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kishibei · 2 years

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WHAT A CREEP !

— K!NKTOBER DAY 9: PERVERSION

pervert! suna rintarou x reader | smut, 18+ | 3.8k words

summary: when your hot roommate offers to do laundry in exchange for a favor, you oblige in a heartbeat! your clothes seem to be returned in perfect condition, except there's one big problem: several pairs of panties are missing ...

cw: f reader, perversion, panty thieving, peeping, voyeurism, male masturbation, teasing, man-handling, fingering, mirror sex, dumbification, hate-fuck (?), rough sex.

← K!NKTOBER MLIST

You’ve never had a problem living with Suna; he was the nicest roommate you could’ve asked for.

Rent always came in weeks before it was due, and he stayed out of your way for the most part. What he lacked in social aspects he made up for in general politeness. Suna always greeted you in the mornings before leaving, and when he came back he'd offer you takeout in exchange for watching movies with him.

Though he didn't talk much, you were never uncomfortable with his silence. He was much better company than your mutual friend Atsumu, who just couldn't handle shutting up for five minutes, let alone for a film.

Suna was a calming presence and when he did offer his thoughts on things, he was brutally honest. it was something you both seemed to agree upon, a small unifying factor that helped you grow a bit closer to him. He was clean and organized, and your communal spaces were a calm mix of both your living habits. You could definitely trust him with domestic tasks, he had never given you reason not to. So when he began offering to do your laundry in exchange for a couple of favors, you obliged in a heartbeat.

It couldn’t have been that big of a leap anyway. Suna was a self-sufficient man and had done his own laundry ever since he had moved in. Knowing that eased you, and there really wasn't a seed of doubt in your mind when you handed your hamper over to him before work. It was truly impossible for him to fuck this up. Most of your colors could go in the same wash, so all that was really left for him to do was load up the washer and throw in a softener mid-cycle.

In spite of your confidence in him, you still had lingering doubts about his abilities. He was a guy, of course, one who probably had his mommy back home to wash his jerseys all season long. You knew he was capable of doing his laundry just fine and yet you'd successfully convinced yourself he would fuck up somewhere. Mental preparation, you'd called it. Just in case he did manage to disappoint you. Most men had a way of doing that sort of thing, anyway.

Once you had returned, you were pleasantly surprised to be met with your clothes not only intact but neatly folded and organized on your bed. A quick look over your things proved them to be in order and you’d even caught yourself smiling as you packed everything into their respective drawers. You didn't expect Suna to go so far as folding them, so naturally, you felt as if you owed him something extra for what he'd done. Maybe you should cook him dinner?

Turning to the final pile, you paused.

Heat crawled up your body when your eyes fell on the remaining stack of garments.

"No fucking way..." you trailed off, picking up a neatly folded lace thong. You stood frozen in place, staring at the dark sliver of fabric with wide eyes. You could almost hear the gears turning in your head before the realization dawned on you. You had not only let your hot roommate wash, but fold an entire set of your panties.

The mental image that played behind your skull had you wanting to kill yourself. You could so imagine Suna standing in the middle of your room picking up pair after pair of underwear, snickering at each design choice. The mere thought of it made you want to die and at this rate, dying seemed like a way better option than having to face him after this.

It was times like this that made you wish you weren't so lazy. You had intended on separating your underwear from the rest of the wash the night before, but sleep had taken over and you’d completely forgotten about it in the morning.

Sifting through the pile, you inspected the panties one by one, cringing at the embarrassing pattern that decorated your favorite pair. Suna was an attractive man, even after living with him for this long you’d never changed your mind. From the very beginning and especially after finding out who he was, you were hoping he’d have an embarrassing routine or bad habit that would rid you of your feelings for him. But up until now, he had a clean track record.

if anything, it was rather you who had slipped up. It was you who had just now let him see your character-speckled panties, all for some small favors. Tossing the piece of fabric into the nearest bin, you threw yourself onto the bed. Violently kicking your feet, you buried your face in the pillows, screaming about your little fuck up until your throat went dry.

Quick footsteps and a sharp rapping at your door snapped you out of your tantrum. The sheer embarrassment of it all almost had you forgetting you shared the apartment with someone else. But how could you forget? He was the whole reason you were acting this way to begin with.

“You okay in there? I'm coming in!” the man called out.

Suna fumbled with the doorknob, it was his way of respecting your privacy. Wordlessly, he offered you some time to collect yourself before stepping in. Shit like that made you hate the situation even more, why'd he have to be so gentlemanly even after seeing something so humiliating of yours?

Cursing yourself, you sat up. Not only had he seen your worst pair of underwear but now he had witnessed your screaming fit. If he didn't already think you were weird, he would definitely think you were now. He was probably only checking in to tease you anyway.

“Yea Suna, I'm alright!" you blurted out. "I was actually just gonna thank you for washing my stuff!"

“You really didn't have to fold them too, you know?” the words left your lips so fast, you nearly couldn't catch what you were saying.

Suna’s eyes shifted from you to the now messy pile of underwear you sat next to, then met yours again. He wasn't stupid, it was very clear what you were flustered about.

"Oh,” he trailed off slowly, a hand coming up to comb through the hair framing in his face.

“It wasn't a big deal for me, sorry if you didn't want me to.”

“It’s fine!” you squeak. “I guess I owe you an extra favor for that.”

There’s a pause before Suna speaks again, almost like he’s contemplating the right thing to say. He's unreadable at the moment and you're about to curse him for it. But just when you fix your lips to get a word out, it appears he's decided.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

There's a smirk to his words that don’t quite reach his face, and before you can process it, he’s disappeared down the hall and back into his room.

Huffing you drag a hand over your face, turning your attention back to the stack of underwear in question. Sorting through them again you come to a halt. You're sure you’d included a couple more pairs than this so you recount, and recount, and recount. You're probably overthinking it, and things get lost in the dryer all the time. You can't even begin counting how many pairs of socks you’d orphaned in the wash.

This was Suna Rintarou you were talking about: star middle blocker for EJP. A division one player with a reputation to maintain wouldn’t do anything stupid like what you were thinking. Just because he stuck to himself didn't make him some reclused creep, he was a well-known guy who just happened to choose to enjoy a modest life. You're sure his name gave him plenty of girls to fuck, what business would he have stealing panties anyway?

You brush the thought from your mind. It's definitely a stretch, and beyond unlikely. You're almost ashamed that you even had such an idea, to begin with. Suna’s never given you a reason to doubt his intentions, but what kind of man just does a girl’s laundry for fun?

You need to be sure of your suspicions, if they were real at all. You need to catch Suna Rintarou red-handed.

Tonight, you hardly sleep. Staring up at the ceiling, your throat is dry, and your head is filled with unease, mind swirling with all kinds of theories about Suna. Frustrated, you slip out of bed to get a glass of water. The floor is cold, and a shiver crawls up your spine as your feet meet the chilly wood. It's an eerie feeling and it almost makes you want to crawl back into bed and try to fall asleep again.

Forcing the thought away, you make your way to the kitchen, treading lightly so as not to disturb your roommate. You know he has to travel in the morning, and you’d hate to be the reason he isn't well-rested. But as you pass his room, you realize he’s left his door cracked open and isn't asleep at all, heavy breaths and a soft rhythmic patting are proof of that.

The noises he makes cause you to stop in your tracks, and before you realize it, you find yourself drawn to them, clinging to the wall to secure a better view through the gap in the doorway.

Suna’s eyes are screwed shut. The faint glow of his phone screen just barely illuminates his features and you can see the soft dusting of pink covering his angular face. His lips parted and a shaky inhale followed as your eyes drop from his face to the hand that was gripping his heavy cock. You almost gasp yourself as you note the impressive size of it.

He was huge and girthy, even from afar you could make out the thick veins that decorated the shaft and the aggressive shade of pink that blushed over his leaking tip. You watched as fat beads of pre flowed down his cock, dribbling over his fingers before falling onto his weighty balls. You were so entranced by him you had barely registered what he held in that same hand until he began stroking himself with it.

Your jaw fell laxly as you watched how he worked himself with the lacy black fabric. He was practically choking his cock out with a grip so intense you were sure it was painful. Looking back at his face, you watched attentively as his brows knit together before he opened his eyes again. Zeroing in on his phone, a string of expletives fell from his lips as he picked up the pace.

The loud slapping of his skin and the creaking of his bed rivaled the sound of his voice but still, there it was. Among all the obscenities that came dripping from his tongue, there was your name.

It started as a whisper and you couldn’t even believe it was coming out of his mouth. It grew into a continuous desperate chant as if he was trying to summon you to properly finish him off before he pushed himself over the edge.

Suna came hard. Stupid hard. So hard he had let his phone slip from his grasp, and there you could see it.

You could recognize that photo anywhere, it was one of your best. Even if you had gone blind the next day, you could still point it out in a lineup of other revealing photos. There you were on Suna’s phone screen, on vacation at matira beach in bora bora, playfully bent over in a small bikini top and shorts.

This time you couldn’t hold the gasp you let out. Fully opening the door now, you watched Suna scramble to cover himself. The cum that covered his abs dripped onto his sheets as he sat up. Before he could open his mouth to speak you started.

“Fucking pervert.” you spat out.

Suna physically recoiled, the words had cut deep and bothered him more than he had liked to admit. But you’d instantly noticed how he flinched at them.

“Really, panties? And my Instagram? You're pathetic, Suna.”

He couldn't say a word, he sat staring dumbfounded blinking up at you like an idiot.

“Nothing to say, either? I expected a lot more out of you, guess you're nothing but a little pervert.” you spat contemptuously turning to leave the room. “And keep them. I don't want you going through any more of my stuff, freak.”

Suna sputtered as he watched you stand in the doorframe with your back to him. You were desperately waiting for him to say something, anything.

“That's rich coming from you” he fired back.

You froze as soon as the harsh words had reached you. Clenching your fists, you turn. "Accusing me is really low of you, Suna.”

“You think I didn't see you watching?” Chuckling, he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean watching me jerk off? You're even lower than me. I never crossed that line”

“Shut up.” you spat, turning to him. "I was only here to close your door. You're the one who left it open, you wanted to get caught.”

“Such a tease, youre the one who gave me your panties. it's almost like you wanted me to take them.”

Sputtering, you gave up on responding.

“You're no better than me.” he finished. Turning, you faced him fully now. “And you're right, I did wanna get caught, seeing you there made me cum, came real hard actually."

You cringed at his vulgarity. You’d never seen this side of Suna at all. He was always calm and reserved, the complete antithesis of what he was right now. You hated his sudden confidence and yet it turned you on all the same. Before you could think you began making your way into the room. Stopping before his bed, you lowered yourself to be at eye level with him.

“You know if you had just said something instead, we could’ve fucked.”

Bringing a hand to the nape of your neck Suna pulls you in, resting his lips against the shell of your ear. “So what’s stopping you?” he purred. Wrenching your head back to get a better look at you, his crushing grip on your neck intensified.

“Don't fight me now. If you want it, just tell me. I won't judge.” he simpered. "Besides, you do owe me a favor."

Your head spun at the thought of it, but you had also just caught him jerking off with your panties a few minutes ago. He was a creep, but you had also coveted him from the very moment he hauled his boxes in to stay. You didn't want to say it aloud, so you merely nodded. Admitting it would make it so much more real and you liked the idea of this just being some fever dream you’d wake up from in the morning.

“That won't do, I need you to say it,” he cooed, the smile playing on his lips growing sinister.

"I want it.” you whispered.

"Louder”

“I want it, Suna.” you said with more confidence now.

“Good,” he let go of your neck, deft fingers creeping up to get a good grip on your hair, beckoning you into a burning kiss.

The kiss was rough and nasty, spit escaped the corners of your lips and dribbled down your chin as his tongue explored your mouth. Pulling away with a gasp, you met Suna’s eyes, there was something dark steeping in them, but before you could think too hard about it, his hands gathered your hair again, pushing you down to your knees.

Your hands ran up his muscular thighs as he took the sheet off of him, swinging his legs off the bed to rest on either side of your head. He was much bigger up close and the sheer size of him made you nervous. Swallowing thickly you looked up at him again, and he brought a hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks so your lips puckered up for him.

“Go on,” he said with a nod, his other hand gripping his cock, slowly stroking it before bringing it to your eager lips. You opened your mouth and took him in immediately, already huffing around the thick of his shaft.

He was so big you could barely breathe around him, he was only halfway in and you’d already felt like throwing up. Pulling back with a gasp, you followed the trail of spit still connected to his cock, watching it split before pressing light kisses and kitten licks to the length of it.

The expression that painted Suna’s face almost made you laugh. His eyes were shut hard again and his forehead was creased in frustration at the barely there stimulation you offered him. Getting bored of teasing him, you put him in your mouth again.

You'd done it slowly this time, letting the tip of his member reach the back of your throat before pulling away. What couldn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hands and Suna was truly in heaven once he peered down at you working him skillfully. Grunting at your ministrations, he shifted his hands to cradle your face before plunging your head further down the shaft. You began to gag but he shushed you, gently stroking your head as he aided you closer to the base of his cock.

“See? Not so hard if you breathe through your nose, girl.” Humming around him you let him take control, allowing him to maneuver your head how he pleased, fucking your face with vigor. Tears streamed down your face and drool ran to your chin, the mix of fluid pooling down at the tip before dripping onto the floor.

“Fuck...” he grunted, bucking his hips as you took him down your throat, the harsh movement causing you to gag around him. “So pretty taking me like this…” his words were muttered and punctuated with moans. “So fucking good for me,” he grunted.

His words went straight to your pussy, and you clenched your thighs at the praise. Suna reveled in the sight of you falling apart in front of him, his words had an effect to them and he had clearly begun to make a mess out of you.

Suna was close, so fucking close. Pushing your face closer to him, you breathed heavily once you’d reached the hilt, nose buried in the light dusting of hair smattered over his pubis. A string of expletives left his lips as a warning. He couldn't quite find the words in time before he was cumming down your throat. When he had worn himself out you pulled yourself off with a pop, swallowing hastily to catch a proper breath of air.

You gasped violently, chest heaving as you huffed waiting for your breath to steady. Suna returned a hand to your face again, raising your chin to examine it. He brought his thumb to the corner of your lips, smearing around some of the fluids that escaped before pushing his thumb past your lips for you to suck. Capturing them obediently you met his eyes again, they were lidded and danced around your face and body, unable to focus on one thing.

“I didn't know pervert girls sucked cock so well,” he jested, sharply pulling back at the feeling of your teeth clamping down on his thumb. “I was joking!” he shook his hand for added effect.

“Let me take care of you now…”

Pulling you up to your feet, Suna helped you undress. He worked slowly and his touch lingered in the places he ran his hands over. Coaxing you over to him, he situated you in his lap with your back to him, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, he spread your legs.

“Look,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses and the occasional nibble to your clavicle. Glancing up, you had finally taken notice of the mirror that sat across from you. Seeing yourself spread open with him behind you made you shiver, your skin prickled with goosebumps when his hands traveled south, holding your thighs apart.

"Aren't you pretty?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. You were already babbling about him stroking your thighs and he hadn't even touched you where it meant anything. Pushing your panties to the side, Suna ran a finger down your slit, pulling it back to admire the thread of wetness that was still connected to your cunt.

“So fucking wet for me,” he began, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them loudly. Your flesh burned in embarrassment as you watched him lick your slick off his digits.

“And all that just from sucking dick? You really are a slut.”

You writhed in his arms, wishing he would get done with the teasing and actually touch you seriously. You were so turned on it almost hurt, the steady thump of your pussy irritated you, and you were practically on the verge of tears.

“Suna,” you whined, circling your hips desperately. “Please, just touch me already…”

You watched his head lift from its position at your neck, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Without warning, he brought two fingers to your cunt, harshly plunging them into your dripping hole. You cried out, bucking wildly in his lap as he drew them out before pushing them in again, curling them to skim the spongy area hidden at the back of your cunt. His digits were long and skinny and he had no problems reaching deep where you needed him. Tears streamed down your face as he worked you to hysterics, hiccupping and gripping his wrists when you were close to your peak.

“S-suna!” you yelped, shutting your eyes hard at the incoming wave of pleasure. Suna grabbed your face, turning it back to the mirror.

“Open your eyes.” he cooed, roughly scissoring his fingers in your pussy. “I want you to see how you look cumming all over my fingers.”

Prying your eyes open, you focused on the mirror. Training your sights on Suna’s nimble fingers knuckles deep in you, you clamped down on him hard, gushing over his hands and thighs with a scream.

Before you had even fully come to, Suna was already busying himself with your spent pussy. Peeling your panties off, he slotted himself between your folds, coating his cock with your fluids before sinking you down on it.

Mutually, you gasped. Your hole fluttered around his length as the stretch of him entering burned you. Letting out a shaky exhale, Suna took his time, slowly lowering you down with small strokes until he had fully bottomed out. When you had finally adjusted, he hooked his arms around your legs, folding you in on yourself as he dragged his cock out of you.

You trembled at the feeling of his length being drawn out before slipping back in. You could practically feel every vein stroke your insides and the angle of his cock had you jabbering incoherencies when he abused the spot that had you falling apart. Suna’s pace was unrelenting, he bounced you on his lap, letting gravity take over before he lifted you up again.

“Fuck,” He grunted, angling his body to sink himself deeper. “Keep clamping down on me like that and I'm gonna cum.” His words had the opposite effect on you, and your cunt was swallowing him up, squeezing his cock with a vice-like grip.

Groaning, Suna tightened his grip on your legs. Standing up from the bed, he bullied his cock into you, lifting and dropping you down on him with vigor. Moaning in pure ecstasy, you hollered at his pace grabbing onto whatever you could to steady yourself.

You’d gone dumb at this point. Sobbing uncontrollably, you were unable to moan or form any sounds other than the string of slurred syllables that made up his name.

“Suna! Su- su-…”

“I know,” he hushed you, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek down to your neck and shoulders.

“Fuck!” he grunted. “Gonna… gonna cum!”

Gripping his wrists you tried to find the words. “Don- don’t pull out..” you slurred, teetering over the edge of bliss.

Your words shot straight to his pulsing cock and he emptied himself inside you with a strangled cry. The feeling of him filling you up with his warm seed pushed you over the edge. Crying, you gushed around him, pushing his cock out as he tried to fuck you through your orgasm. Coming down from his high, Suna pulled out of you, the mix of fluids dripping out of your worn cunt and onto the hardwood floor.

Relaxing in his arms, your eyes fluttered closed. Leaning your head back, you looked up at him. Sweat lined his brow and his face was a violent shade of pink as he huffed, meeting your gaze.

“So,” you rasped. “Wanna go again, pervert?”

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rustytrident · 1 year

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the brothers in bed hcs (18+)

spoiler none of them are doms

ch: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

cw: 18+ mdni!! mentions of praise, degradation, hard kinks, pet play, overstimulation, edging, toys, feminisation, pain, objectification, mirror sex, filming, pegging, sensory deprivation, mutual masturbation, punshiments, mind break, somnophilia

a/n: is this gonna be biased cause i like sub men? probably. am i still right? definitely.

lucifer:

a sub. but like what were you expecting.

really likes praise, to the point where you can see his eyes shine whenever you praise him

one of the most obedient of the bunch, he just really likes being told he's being good for you :((

i can see him being into really hard kinks cause he just wants to plummet into sub space and forget he exists for a bit

can honestly be very teasing and sarcastic with you at times, but only when he has the energy for it.

likes: hard kinks, praise, restraints

dislikes: degradation, spit, quickies

mammon:

switch but mostly subs

he teases the fuck out of u as a dom. like will not give you what you want until you beg and beg and beg

wants to get absolutely destroyed when subbing though. like sometimes he'll just be mean to u so u can use him

puppyboy. i think he'd like a pretty collar but u didn't hear that from me

not too big on being degraded, but it can really turn him on if u mostly praise him and throw a bit of degrading in

likes: free use, pet play, overstimulation

dislikes: monotony, company, blindfolds

levi:

also a switch but the dom side comes out once in a blue moon

likes praise and degradation equally, but be careful not to favor one over the other

toys toys toys!! he has sooo many and loves to have them used on himself, especially likes ones that vibrate

really likes feminisation!! put him in little skirts and lacy underwear and he's already gone like :((((

not the biggest fan of pain (he hates it)

likes: humiliation, feminisation, toys

dislikes: pain, imbalance, mirrors

satan:

100% switch. likes to keep it fresh

the sweetest dom ever. he has read too much erotica to know exactly what to say

catboy!! cliche but come on. don't tell me that he secretly hasn't been crafting the perfect fursona design for centuries

hates being degraded the most. only be nice to him, he can't handle it

i can see him being into pain tbh, but only some times (he'll tell u dw)

likes: petplay, praise, dacryphilia

dislikes: restraints, degradation, objectification

asmo:

is he a switch? naturally. does he enjoy being a sub the most? absolutely.

has a thing about ruining your or his makeup. just. smear his lipstick, make him smudge his eyeliner, yknow how it is

mirrors!! and filming!! he's the biggest star he wants the world to see!!

very open to people joining, but mostly he enjoys the intimacy of being with you

edge him. i think it does things to him idk.

likes: being filmed, mirror sex, edging

dislikes: :/

beel:

subsubsubsubsubsubsub

he's just there to please. use him however u like, he really doesn't mind

auralism?? in this household?? more likely than u think.

wants to touch u at all times. so so soft in how he handles u god i need him :(((

likes being pegged. there's something about feeling full that does it for him yknow?

likes: pegging, slow sex, your voice

dislikes: hard kinks, sensory deprivation, mutual masturbation

belphie:

look me in the eyes and tell me. tell me what u think (he's a switch but who likes domming when u can just let. go.)

very much into mind break. like make him black out make him forget where what who and when

somno. predictable, yes, but like. he was made for this, no one can change my mind

pillow prince!! doesn't care what u call him, just make him feel all important and giddy

a brat.

likes: somno, edging and overstim, being bratty

dislikes: being on top, gentle doms, company (unless it's beel)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me smut #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #mammon obey me #mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #satan obey me #satan x reader #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub x reader #belphegor obey me #belphegor x reader #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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totalswag · 15 days

Note

what if Drew invites Reader to Italy, like to accompany him to the shooting of his movie QUEER and have a good time visiting, meet the film crew, watch him working, ect... at the same time, Drew and Reader express their feelings towards each other, not directly a confirmation being a couple but a kind of dating for the moment, softly romantic and fun 💯🌹🇮🇹

italy trip — DREW STARKEY

authors note i made one very similar with baby tatum involved when she was a a few months old (dad!drew content btw) however, thank you anon for this beautiful request, i had a fun time writing it. i hope this is what you were looking for!! i spent a lot of time on this request going back an forth making sure it was just right.

summary drew inviting you to accompany him in Italy while he films his new movie, queer, for a month. little down the road feelings towards each other unfold.

requests open

warnings traveling, filming, mentions of drinking, confessing feelings,

Drew flew to Italy last month to film his new movie, Queer. This is an important role for him, and you could not be more proud of him. You recall him being ecstatic when his manager called to inform him that he had been offered the position.

Drew bought you a plane ticket to Italy a week ago, and you spent a month with him. It threw you off surprise, but you couldn't wait to spend a month in Italy with him. He wanted you to come out and see what Italy was like, see him work, wander about, and so on.

You've been close friends for a long time. You met through mutual friends and have remained close ever since. Those closest to you are waiting for you to get together. There’s been little moments between you that show the attraction you have towards each other.

Reaching Italy was like entering a dream. There was beauty to be found everywhere they turned, and the air was fragrant with the aroma of fresh pasta and blossoming flowers.

You have spent the last three days in Italy so far. First two days consisted of you relaxing because jet lag really got to you – you aren’t used to traveling across the world.

You were gushing about the gorgeous country the entire time. It was spectacular in every way. The number of times you thanked Drew for inviting him on this vacation was too many for him to count on his fingers.

Drew gave you a tour of the set, introduced you to the actors, and allowed you to watch him film a few scenes on your third day in Italy. It was impossible to look away from Drew as he was filming a scene. It was too good to pass up the chance to be at his side as he developed his art and saw the magic of filmmaking come to life.

He introduced you to the cast, all very sweet. Had good conversations with them too.

“The way he goes into character instantly, Y/N, is so amazing,” Drew’s manager whispered, “He loves what he does and it shows.” you respond still keeping your eyes on him film a scene.

Having the chance to speak with Dainel Greg was a dream come true. You spent your childhood watching his movies whenever you could with your father. He maintained the conversation and was quite kind. You told him about his movies as James Bond and watching them with your dad.

“We should go out tonight, what do you think?” Drew asked, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as you walked off set.

"Are you taking me around like a tour guide?" Jokingly hip-checking him and giggling, "It seems like a plan to me."

Your comment made him laugh, "You are such a dork, you know that right," as he looked down at you and a small smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll go out to the bars, grab food, and explore” shrugging his shoulders.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” smiling.

Drew and you found time to relax and enjoy one other's company. Your chats were effortless, full of laughter, common interests, and unconscious connection. There was a faint undercurrent of something deeper between you, a subtle but obvious spark that lasted whenever you were together.

When you and Drew stepped outside as the sun started to set, the music was playing softly in the background and a gentle breeze caressed your skin. It was just breathtaking. Drew couldn't help but notice how you were living in the moment.

Drew ushered you in front of him as he entered the bar and showed you where the drinks were. Leaning forward against the counter, you crossed your arms and looked over the menu. Drew was standing close to you, examining the menu.

He lifted his beer with his right hand and took a long sip, saying, "See, I told you this bar is good."

Pushing your finished plate to the side and lifting your beer in your palm, "I'm just glad you brought me here. I think I might need to take some home," sarcastically completing your statement, Drew grins.

For the next thirty minutes, you two stayed at the bar sipping more beer and discussing your garden you started at home. You've always enjoyed gardening, especially when it comes to adding color to your house with flowers.

Drew chuckles, "It's been going great and you should come by and take a look. I've been waking up early in the morning to get it all done before the sun comes out, and I'm looking like a sweaty pig the entire time." He nods.

"What's the reason behind your laughter? It's true that when I initially started working in the garden in the afternoon, it appeared as though I had just gotten out of the shower. You sigh, slumping your shoulder, and then giggle when you give it some more thought.

"I'm glad to hear it's almost finished; I know how much you wanted to grow your own garden when you bought your house," he said softly, looking at you with piercing blue eyes.

His response made you feel warm and fuzzy. Your cheeks reddened and you buried your face in your shoulder. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way all sudden.

It's almost the end of your trip, sad. Three more days till you leave the beautiful country, Italy.

The last few weeks have been a dream come true for your book. Being alongside Drew made the experience a lot more fun. When he wasn't filming, you two spent your days and nights in Italy. You two had lots of flirtatious encounters that left you both flustered.

Earlier today, Drew and you went down to a museum. Drew brought his digital camera to take pictures of art you looked at.

There was something Drew said that stuck with you for the rest of the day,

“C'mon you look beautiful, Y/N, please.”

He had complimented you before, but this time felt different. He's been more loving during the trip, making tiny comments that make the butterflies in your stomach run crazy.

Now you're sitting on the balcony couch, a blanket wrapped over your body, watching the sun set fully. A chilly air struck your face. It felt great. Music can be heard in houses or around town.

Drew's footsteps approach the balcony, and he holds two glasses of wine in his hands. You peek over your shoulder, a smile spreading across your face. He places them on the coasters in front of you and takes a seat next to you.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say before taking a sip of the wine you bought earlier today.

"Anytime, let me know what you think" he says casually, his gaze fixed on you the entire time.

You go on to tell him how excellent the wine is and that he should bring the entire bottle back here because you might as well drink it all.

Drew couldn't help but giggle at your choice of words, but he was also careful because he knew how you got drunk on wine.

He feels the same way, so if you both get drunk on wine, you'll win.

"What's been your favorite experience this trip?" Drew asks, sliding his right arm around your shoulder, and you respond by leaning into his warm touch.

"Everything," you say as you wander off into the distance, "and being here with you." You lean your head back and jab your pointer finger at his cheek. flirtatiously but playfully.

You can notice a change in Drew's physical sensation. You would rather hear what he has to say in return than say anything more. It's clear that he didn't anticipate your final statement.

"I've had a lot of fun with you too, and I was hoping we would do more stuff like this with me and you when our schedules aren't so busy?" His voice sounds unsteady and nervous but he maintains it steady.

“Like a couple?” you question.

“Mhm yes, like a couple” his cheeks are getting red, can’t tell if it's the wine or his cheeks.

He turns his body to face you and places both hands on your lap. "Look, Y/N." I brought you on the trip to confirm my feelings for you, which proved to be genuine.What I am trying to get across is that I view you as more than a friend, Y/N. When I'm around you, you bring me so much joy and happiness that I could go on and on about how I feel.

Your brain is going in circles as you hear the words come out Drew’s mouth. Paying attention by the way he expresses how he feels, genuine and honest. You can’t help but smile when he brings up how you make him feel. All you can do is wrap your arms around him.

"I feel the same way, Drew. I was too terrified to tell you; I had no idea how you felt," you say, moving away from him and peering into those blue eyes that make you feel like you're on cloud nine.

You saw Drew's repeated stares at your eyes and lips. He leans in to give you a short kiss, then pulls away to watch how you react. You grin. He smiles before crashing his lips back against yours, lips moving in unison.

For the next few days, you two took it slow. Not making it formal right away, but rather enjoying the process of dating while remaining casual.

The next three days passed quickly. The second to last day consisted of you taking a day trip to the beach, walking through market after market, stopping for ice cream, taking lots of pictures, grabbing pizza to go to the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore with the sky looking beautiful, music playing in the background, and sharing a few kisses.

This trip was definitely something to remember.

my taglist!

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#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x bestfriend!reader #drew fic #drew starkey fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks blurb #outer banks imagines #drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

Text

little miss pressure • armin artlert

armin was notorious for his wild ways and sexscapades but ends up meeting his match in the form of a girl he’d never expect. And it leaves the notorious playboy stuck on his new fixation.

plus size black reader, (y/n) works in the adult entertainment industry, alcohol and weed use, armin and reader are some FREAKS, reader is very hyper sexual and tbh a bad bitch 😝 (this is nasty, I apologize in advance!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════

producer!armin has always been a man synonymous with a less than savory lifestyle. Sex, drugs, fame and glory..it was all he ever desired. To live each day as if it were his last and let the consequences happen as they may. His vices were those every other music industry maestro that got into it for all the wrong..and selfish reasons. Especially when it came to women, which may have been his greatest weakness.

Switching them out like his latest pair of Amiris or his brand new Audemars. Picking them up at every illustrious strip club or his infamous house parties..working his way through a ten mile long roster of girls. Comprised of every bachelorette (and sometimes others wives) this side of South Beach. He didn’t care about what followed or if he hurt their feelings. All he wanted was his one night and a good nut. After that, what they did was none of his concern. And hell, with his good looks, he could get away with just about anything. Until you came along…until (y/n) showed up at one of his little soirées. Invited by a friend of a friend, who had spoken all about the engineer and all his antics. About the hits he’s produced, his track record and extremely high body count. Something that didn’t particularly off put you, seeing as how promiscuity was your entire profession. You were an upcoming adult film star, taking the internet and nsfw spaces by storm. A brick house of a woman who didn’t mind flaunting that beautiful body and working it in ways that many wish they could. Sex with you had been described a ‘spiritual experience’ by many. From the incredible head game to the pussy that had gotten many of your bills paid. A month after working with a couple of creators and collaborating with a few porn production companies, it all took off. Your OnlyFans was jumping and everyone wanted a taste of the newest BBW on the scene. And tonight, you were out prowling for some trouble to get into. You had your fair share of good hookups but you needed the man that was going to give you the type of dick that would change your life. It came not a moment too soon when you got some alone time with Mr. Artlert. Trust, he was more than well aware of your reputation and he wanted to see if it preceded you. And the feeling was mutual..

seeing as how you had only ever spotted him with skinny model types and BBL bodies..not that anything was wrong with it but you were a bit skeptical. Not questioning if you could pull him or anything but if he could truly handle you! Would he truly be worth the hype. But after downing a few daiquiris; making subtle eye contact from the room, he’d approach you with that signature smug look on his face, flashing you a toothy grin and boldly greeting you with a hug. “Yeah, (friend name) told me all about you..it’s very, very nice to meet you, miss (y/n). So glad you made it out.” Sealing it with a classic peck to the back of your hand..by the look on his face, he was more than likely assuming that you’d be easy pickings. Insecure and lacking self esteem as a bigger woman. That you’d be happy that someone like him was even looking in your direction. But was he sorely mistaken! Especially when hours later, after chatting you up the whole night and once the rest of his guests had gone home..he got you up to his bedroom and out of that designer on your body. “Are the rumors true, sweetheart?” “Find out for yourself if you’re man enough.” All it took was a shared spliff and a little more liquor before you had him spread across his own bed, toes curling midair as he released loud screams. “Ohhhhh fuck! (Y/N)…goddamn.” Howling from the head he received..engulfing all eight and a half inches of that veiny girth as if you lacked a gag reflex of any sort. “Yeah, fuck this throat. Don’t play with me.” Emitting strings of spit and covering that cock in it. Flicking your tongue around his sack and momentarily over his asshole. All while jerking him off. Never in his life had he had a bitch so nasty and he loved it! God, he loved how you abandoned every bit of your morals in the bedroom. Making his nut from sucking his dick when no one woman had ever done so before. “They weren’t lying, huh?” “Told you..”

but he was no minute man himself. See, after getting slurped up like that, he had to a little something to prove..and he’d do so by devouring your pussy while he ushered you atop his mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, sit the fuck down, baby. I can take it.” Assured in his abilities and absolutely infatuated with your flavor…moaning as he inhaled your scent and flicked his tongue all over your clit. Kneading his hands into that thick ass and hips, even prompting you to bounce up and down on his face. Causing a collision with those heavy cheeks. “Yes! Right there…oh God..” drawing out high pitched wails from your sore throat and sweet juices from that tightness. Coating his entire chest in your squirt. And from there, he couldn’t let up off of you. At least not until he pinned those legs back and put that dick stomach deep. “Wet this dick up then since it’s like that.” With those substances coursing your systems, it brought forth an even nastier side for both of you..if that were even possible! “Ion think you’ll leave me alone if I do.” Your feet plastered to the headboard as he pounded you relentlessly. “This pussy so fucking good!…” cracking only a few minutes and strokes in because he had never felt it this wet and gushy before. It was like being encompassed and coddled in a warm blanket that nestled his dick as if were made especially for him. Folding you into a mating press and having to bare all of his body weight just to reign you in. His one hundred seventy pounds in comparison to your nearly three hundred. He had piped many women in his young life but you were the true definition of pressure. Making loud smacking noises from the slick dribbling from that plump cunt. The fatter the pussy, the wetter and he was learning first hand. Burrowed over your face and feeding you slow, sloppy kisses, along with tons of slaps and spit..another first for the philandering bachelor. He didn’t want to leave it if he were being frank.

“Yeah, beat that motherfucker up, daddy. Keep going!” Reaching down to massage your bud with those coffin shaped claws as you glared into his eyes and done something that would truly drive him insane. “F—fuck! Squeezing me like that..gonna make me nut all in your shit.” Throbbing and fully swollen inside of you. Posing the statement like a threat but that was exactly what you were hoping for! And when he couldn’t control himself another moment, you found yourself filled to the brim and with a heavy slap to your ass, he’d command you all fours where he all but shoved his face between your cheeks, eating you out once more because he loved drinking it in. Shortly after, stuffing your other hole with a thumb and your pussy full of his still erect cock. Placing a foot on your head, beating your shit in and making you arch your back. That ass moving like water nearly drove him insane. The best backshots he’s ever given. And after rounds and rounds of fucking each other senseless..all for footage for your page, the producer was all but unconsciousness from exhaustion. Housing his entire load into your womb without so much as a second thought. He was sure to be sleeping peacefully, even telling you that you could spend the night. Words he had never uttered prior. Knowing that you had gotten him hooked and it surely wouldn’t be the last you’d be seeing of Armin Artlert. But for now..you’d gotten what you came for..

and you’d be gone before the sun could rise.

@lusts1ck 🫶🏾

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luveline · 2 years

Note

hi! i loved you’re bodyguard james au sm! could i request something super fluffy with bodyguard james, maybe reader getting ready for bed and james doting on her <3

omg yes of course, thank you for your request! some mutual pining with bodyguard!james x fem!reader

"Do you think it's silly, sometimes, that you have to wait outside my door?" you ask James, hip popped against the doorframe, tired and lagging and wanting his attention.

He's thankfully deigned to turn to you, though his position is ramrod straight. "Not really."

"I understand when I'm out of bounds, but... you know, my door locks."

"You know as well as I do a lock won't stop some people."

"How about two locks?"

"Enough," he says. There's so much fondness there that you step forward. James gives you a stern look, which might be intimidating because of his general tall, lean shape if he were anyone else but himself. "Go get ready for bed."

"You can't boss me around," you say, and then turn into your room to get ready for bed anyhow. His laugh follows you.

You leave the door open and James doesn't move to close it. It's nice to have his company, to hear the lightest echo of his breathing. You live in such a quiet house, you'd almost think it was you and James alone.

But you're never alone.

"Jamie?" you ask, shrugging out of your soft cardigan.

He hums rather than answer.

"Do you get tired?" you ask, ducking down to look in the vanity's mirror.

You start to pull the jewellery from your hair one glimmering gem at a time, and then pull off the heavy, elegant chain of your necklace. Both easy enough. It's the bracelet you struggle with; the catch isn't manoeuvrable with only one hand.

"Sometimes. You know somebody swaps with me at one though? I don't stand here all night."

You approach him with a little more shyness than before and offer your wrist. "Can you help?"

His fingers slide over your skin obligingly.

"You work such long shifts. One to one. That's twelve whole hours. Don't you think that's excessive?"

"I'm head of your team. It's my job."

The bracelet unclips. James lowers it into your open palm, where it pools. A snake of tiny gems. You close your fingers around it.

"You don't think it's hurting you, all this working?"

"Pajamas."

You huff and head back into your room, dropping your bracelet into the mirrored tray you keep on your vanity. You'll put it away properly tomorrow in the safe jewellery box, but for tonight it'll live with your clips and chains.

"It doesn't hurt me," James says.

"Do you get all the sleep you need?"

"Eight solid hours."

You know he eats enough. He swaps out sometimes with other people to eat lunch, but usually he just eats it with you when you ask, and you always do. It doesn't exactly fit any professional boundaries.

James is your friend.

Maybe.

You grab some clean underwear and pyjamas and change right there in the middle of your room. James won't peek. If he did you wouldn't care. "You have enough time to yourself?" you ask.

"Interested in my private life?" he asks. You can hear his smile, his suggestive eyebrow raise.

"It's more hours than anyone should work, is all. Maybe you could change to eight."

"Ah, trying to get rid of me," he corrects himself.

You push your arms through the sleeves of a dainty nightgown and laugh. "Absolutely I am."

"Have to try harder than this."

You neaten the skirt and frown at your legs, wondering if they look a little dry, and decide some body lotion won't hurt. "Mandarin or lavender?" you call.

"You said the mandarin one made you itchy, last time."

"But it smells really good."

"That's the lotion eating at your skin."

You wrinkle your nose and bend at the waist to moisturise your legs. You wish you could brag and say it was an erotic, film worthy affair. It's mostly a scrabbling of your palms up and down. You sigh and work it up your thighs until you're soft to touch all over.

"If I weigh it up," he says suddenly, seriously, more serious than you're expecting, "it's less work to take longer shifts with you. I'd rather spend the hours watching you than orchestrating other people to watch you... I quite like looking after you."

He clears his throat. "Not that I look after you," he says.

You pad out into the hallway. James has turned his back to you. His arm tenses almost imperceptibly under your hand as you reach for his elbow.

"You definitely look after me." His skin is smooth. It's so hot under your touch that you can feel it moving up into the heels of your palms.

"It's my job," he says.

You'd thought about kissing his arm. Thought about it. His comment snaps you into reality. A goodnight kiss in any form at all would be inappropriate. He might like his job, but it's still a job.

"Where would you be, if you didn't have to work?" you ask.

"Come and stand in front of me," he says gently.

You do as he says. His eyes follow over your outfit. You let yourself believe his expression softens, though your logical head knows it's not the truth. James might be sweet on you, and he may even know how you feel about him, but that's where it all ends. He doesn't like you. He's paid to be here.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That my socks aren't doing their job. Is it cold in here?"

"What are you really thinking?"

He's very patient with you when it comes to stuff like this. It's confusing, because James has about as much patience as you have subtlety.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm okay."

"Well, you look lovely. What an incredibly short nightgown," he praises amorously.

You flush with heat but decide you'll feed into his dramatics rather than tell him what's really wrong with you, stepping back to do a clumsy spin. "Picked it with you in mind, handsome."

"Yeah? Anything else?"

You gasp. "You overstep your station, good sir."

"I can't be blamed. You always look your softest before bed."

Your breath catches. You stop your flaunting and flouncing abruptly to look into his warm face. He looks to you, letting his arms fall from their crossed position to either side of his defined chest. Your eyes flit between his beauty mark. One to the left of his hawk-shaped nose, one below his lashes, three down his left cheek.

It's weird to want someone and have them this close, and know you will probably never, ever have them.

"If I didn't have to work," James says, face as impassive as his stance, a closed book. "I'll show you."

He holds out his hand. You don't take it. He thrusts it forward again.

When you finally give James your own, he spends a moment rubbing the back of it with his thumb like he's never felt it before.

He leads you into your room. He's been in here before, of course, but still, it's a lot to be led. You don't have a clue what he's doing, you think Oh, he's taking me to bed. But he skirts around it and brings you to the first window, pulling the curtains to one side.

He points. "See there?"

You follow his finger. "The gates?"

"The gates."

"James, I don't understand."

"That's where I'd be, if I didn't have to work. They probably wouldn't let me in, but I'd wait right there by the gates for you."

"That's not funny," you murmur.

"I'm not joking."

You grow very still. James drops his hand into the curve of your neck and follows it over the slope of your shoulder. It's affectionate, sweet, and very, very soothing.

His lips touch the side of your head, though it might be accidental. You're tired enough to imagine he's kissed you. "Brush your teeth, shortcake. And then bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, don't remind me," you mumble.

"Okay, I won't."

He squeezes your shoulder one last time, clears his throat, and returns to his post. You brush your teeth and try not to sneak glances at the back of his head through the gap of the ensuite door.

#james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #marauders era #marauders #bodyguard!james potter #bodyguard!au

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yeonjuns-beanie · 9 months

Text

Licentious Affairs

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, definitely dub-con, a little non-con, use of restraints, having sex with a demon, some animalistic behaviors, descriptions of blood, biting, degrading, hair pulling and i think that's everything

summary: you and dalton grew closer over the course of the fall semester. you sense a mutual feeling but still, a crush feels forbidden. on the night that dalton decides he needs to unlock all his memories for good, something possesses his earthly form and you’re left at its mercy.

a/n: when i saw the new installment of this franchise, something about him being possessed had me kicking my feet and giggling. this is 100% self indulgent bc I feel like this is so niche lol. it strays from the events in the film(obvi) but I hope whoever comes across enjoys and i'll get back to my kpop postings shortly :3 ~nero

possessed!Dalton Lambert x female reader

word count: 4.4k

pt.2

The breeze was crisp and the trees were warm bouquets of orange, yellow, and sun-bleached green. As you walked across campus, the leaves crunching under your feet you appreciated the change in season. Wrapping yourself a little tighter in your knitted cardigan, you pulled out your phone checking your notifications. Swiping out of your social media a message from Dalton popped up on your screen.

van gogh: r u out of class yet

y/n: walking to the dorm rn

van gogh: okay, i’ve got something to show you

Turning the volume up on your music and stuffing your phone back into your stubby front pocket, you continued your walk to the dorm. Your mind was scattering all the different possibilities of what Dalton could’ve found out. Since the beginning of the semester, his art professor had been unleashing techniques on him to tap into a deeper artistic space. Through this theory of unlocking, he opened up memories that were tucked away so tightly that he forgot they were his own. Throughout the semester, you’ve been forced to be around his revelations as you were his dorm mate, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy his company.

At first, you thought it was just you being good-natured and wanting to extend a hand to him in a time of need. But as his walls crumbled down you wormed your way in and slowly you found you guys becoming quite close. Opening the main doors to your dorm building the way the air felt never failed to bother you. The brick walls made it constantly humid and it was borderline suffocating with how many bodies passed through the day. Dragging your feet across the floor, you began to feel the day place its weight on your body. You felt another vibration in your pocket but ignored it, deciding to look at the notification once you got settled in.

Opening the door to your room, you were met with Dalton hunched over the canvas of his current piece. He was so focused on the painting that he didn’t hear you come in until the door clicked shut. You dropped your bag on the floor and he finally looked up.

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, you looked pretty focused on that freaky ass painting.”

“If not for this freaky ass painting, I’d still be “boring.”’

Flopping onto your bed, you chuckled remembering the first interaction you guys had with each other. You so desperately were trying to break the ice with your roommate and least to say it was the smallest bit painful getting some info out of him. As Dalton added the last few strokes of creativity, he put down his brush and wiped his hands off with a rag. Meanwhile, you were getting lost in his every move. You were tracing him, the way he moved, really just the way he existed. Losing yourself in your thoughts you didn’t hear him calling your name.

“Y/n…y/n? Are you even here right now?” “Huh?- Sorry was spacing out, long day.”

You were praying that somehow he wouldn’t think too much of it and just pass it off as you disassociating and not internally doting on him. You sat up as he walked over to your bed, the mattress shifting as he sat.

“So you know how we learned I can astral project right?”

You nodded and raised your eyebrows urging him to go on.

“Well, I think, whatever I’m remembering–if I finish that painting I’ll remember everything.”

You looked at him, brows furrowing and your eyes showing an incredulous type of fear. Memories from the last time he projected flooded your mind. Whatever was stalking that other plane had it out not only for Dalton but for anyone in his vicinity. It left you stricken, but subconsciously you knew you couldn’t leave Dalton to deal with it alone.

“You wanna…go back again?”

“I think it’s my only option y/n.”

You sighed knowing there was really nothing you could do to get him to think otherwise. You stared off toward the cryptic painting searching your brain for a solution that didn’t involve him going back to that other world. Nodding, more towards yourself, you looked back at Dalton.

“Okay. When are we doing this?”

There was a small flash of a ‘thank you’ that graced his features. The relationship you shared was beyond the parameters of normal but it was exactly that that allowed you guys to grow so close with one another so quickly. He let out a sigh a dour expression taking over.

“Tonight.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line forcing yourself to become comfortable with the reality of the situation. Slightly nodding, you stood up grabbing your bag from the floor.

“Alright. I’ll be right back. Just gonna run and grab some fairy lights so I can have some source of light in here while you play Sherlock Holmes in the upside down.”

Dalton cracked a smile, a small chuckle escaping him. It was something that softened the heaviness of the situation, lifting the tension not only between you two but for your anxieties. It also made something flutter in your stomach, something you’ve desperately been trying to swallow scared of what would happen if he were to find out. You were about to open the door but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Your phone.”

A gentle smile stretched across his face and there was something softer about him in this particular moment. Maybe it was the knowledge of the impending doom that would ensue in a few hours or maybe it was just two people being vulnerable. You weren’t sure what came over you but the urge to hug him was impossible to pass over and your body moved faster than your mind could react. Your arms wrapped around him finding relief and comfort in him returning the gesture so quickly.

Pulling away from him you found a certain softness swimming in his eyes that you never noticed before. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and bashful you fiddled with your fingertips attempting to wash away the anxiety that was running through you.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.”

Dalton nodded and you slipped out of the doorway. As you walked down the hallway to leave the building you were fighting a more than enthusiastic grin as you felt those same pesky feelings flutter through your being. If only you had a similar gift to Dalton’s you’d be able to see that he was feeling the exact same way. As soon as you left the dorm he sat back on his bed, his hands trying to wipe away the elation he felt from the hug you shared. He was fighting a similar demon as your own, the fabrication of feelings–a crush.

As he laid back on his bed he was running through all his favorite parts of you, something that he didn’t think he could say out loud. His mind was in too many places at once, going back and forth between the budding feelings he felt for you and the unfortunate calamity that he was going to have to face not long after you came back.

Coming out of the corner store, you were surprised by how fast the sun began to tuck behind the mountains. You had an interesting relationship with the fall season, loving how the weather changed and the natural warmness that fall carried. By the same token though, you wished daylight lasted a bit longer, especially tonight. You wished the sun would never set so neither one of you would have to experience the ire that attaches itself to Dalton when the night approaches.

When you got back into the dorm building, there was a formidable sense of dread that you felt settle in your stomach. You tried to brush it off as anxiety now that the navy blanket of night was cast over the sky, but as you approached your dorm the feeling only worsened. Taking a deep breath as you turned the handle of the door, you exhaled as you entered the room, dropping your bag by the door and tossing the bag of lights on your bed.

You were about to announce your arrival to Dalton but were surprised to find him asleep on his bed. You were gone for maybe half an hour so you didn’t think he’d be too deep in sleep. Admiring his form you quelled your thoughts by grabbing the box of lights out of the grocery bag and began to unravel them while calling out to Dalton.

“Dalton…Dalton.”

Plugging the lights in the wall, you called for him one more time before deciding to walk over and shake him up. But when you turned around, he was already sitting up on his bed. It spooked you because you didn’t hear him move.

“Jesus! Make a noise or you know, yawn or something. Scared the shit outta me.” You nervously giggled. That sickly feeling found its way back in your stomach again and you couldn’t quite figure out why. Moving the string of lights around your bed, you found Dalton being more quiet than usual and you ruled that to be the reason why your stomach was turning in knots.

“You alright man? You’re being more weird than usual.”

Silence. Crippling silence.

Chills ran up your body and you tried desperately to feel some sense of normality about the situation. Dalton got up from his bed and walked over to his canvas, running his fingers over the freshly dried paint. He forced some extra air out of his nose somewhat resembling something of a laugh. You kept yourself on high alert as you walked over to your bag to grab your phone. As you got your phone and turned around your eyes met Dalton’s frame huddled in the corner of the room closest to your bed.

The way the string of lights illuminated him caused that sinking feeling to turn into something more dire. You started to go beyond the safety of things just being “weird” and recognized it was fear settling into your bones. Dalton’s shoulders were quivering almost resembling what a laugh would look like but no noise was coming out.

“Dalton, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

Ignoring your intuition, you slowly walked over to him, hoping that the lights would let you see something that you were missing from your distance away from him. You left a couple feet in between you two and you called out to him again, only this time he turned his head slowly in your direction. Any rumination of worry about your friend was quickly replaced with terror once his head turned enough for you to see his eyes. They weren’t his own. They were yellow and held malicious intent.

You wanted to stand your ground but the gasp that left you made a sound before you could stop it. You watched a smirk grow on Dalton’s face and as you broke your chains of frozen fear, you turned around in an attempt to reach the door. Before you could take your second step towards your escape, your feet left the safety of the ground and your body was flung through the air.

Hitting the art wall adjacent to Dalton’s bed your body flopped onto his bed, a shield of sheets as your protection. In a poor attempt to quickly figure out an escape you instead were met with the evil incarnate of Dalton. Your heart was pounding, fear and a dread of the unknown at the forefront of your mind. His frame was looming, staring you down like fresh prey. You gripped the bed sheets staring him down trying to convince yourself you weren’t fearful. Your plan was successful, but the longer you looked at him the easier it became for something more sinister to eclipse your emotions.

Lust.

A salacious intent swapping out the fear of him for the fear of yourself and your own emotions. Why were you feeling this? Could whatever was using Dalton as a vessel hear your thoughts? How could you look at him the same way after this? All of your questions were pushed to the back of your mind as the door to your dorm slowly opened and Dalton turned towards it. You saw nothing in the doorway but almost like a warning, a low timbre shriek echoed from his throat as a bloody goop tumbled out of his mouth.

Whatever was entering the door from the other side left, the door clicking shut and his attention was unfortunately back on you. With a feeble bid, you hoped that calling to Dalton would release him of whatever had a hold on him. As Dalton turned around to grab the cord of lights from the wall, the way he stalked back over to you sent a familiar feeling to pool in your stomach.

“Dalton…I know you’re in there. Dal-”

“-To be face to face with what was keeping me from him recently was not what I expected to see. Nor did I expect it to be so filthy.”

It felt like someone was trying to steal your heart from its chest. There was a certain grit to his tone that was not Dalton’s and you weren’t quite sure if it frightened you or excited you. As he wrapped the cord around his hand he stalked closer to you on the bed.

“Most would be terrified in a situation like this, but you? I can smell you. It’s hard to ignore really.”

You backed further to the wall suddenly facing the reality of your situation. Your heart sped up but not out of fear. The closer he got the more aroused you became but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself just yet. Before you had an understanding of what was going on in front of you, your wrists were taken and tied to the bedpost with the cord Dalton was winding up.

“No!”

A sudden urge to fight back, you weren’t sure if this was something you wanted under the given circumstances. As you tried to push back against the cord, an unseen force was pinning your body to the bed. Your vision was obstructed by the fabric of Dalton’s baggy long sleeve but the overwhelming feeling of arousal was something you couldn’t ignore when he moved to face you and you looked directly into his yellowed eyes.

His hand snaked down the front of your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It was a twisted feeling, you dreamt of a moment like this but with the given situation you were struggling if it was right. As his hand toyed with the button of your jeans any doubt about the situation was pushed to the back of your mind and a gritty tone echoed in the silence of the room.

“It’s funny. Hearing you think you have enough strength to deny yourself pleasure.”

You arched your eyebrow confused by his admission. He took heed of this and answered before you had a chance to vocalize your thoughts. He leaned forward stalking over your body before he placed himself next to the shell of your ear.

“Your thoughts are so loud. Louder than his–if only…he could be the one to see you like this. He’s wished for it.” He pulled away grinning at you in a way that made your walls flutter around nothing. You wondered if the confession of your Dalton “wishing for it” was real or just something the entity used to get under your skin.

You didn’t have much time to think on the matter as your heart rate picked up again at the unfortunate realization that you, were enjoying this. The smirk that rested on Dalton’s face let you in on the sadistic pleasure of whatever was taking control of him was feeling. Before Dalton moved away from the shell of your ear, he took a deep inhale of the scent of your neck.

Humming in relish, he nipped at your earlobe gingerly pulling at the skin as he snaked down your body once more. You wish you had more control but the whimper that left your throat was something instinctive. As this primal version of Dalton reached your hips, your zipper was quickly unfastened and your pants were tossed to the other side of the room

Dalton moved his legs so that he was no longer straddling your own and situated himself in between them. Sliding toward the edge of the bed, he slid down enough to be face first with your messy cunt. Your desire soaking through the fabric leaving no room for doubt in your feelings. Shoving his nose into your drenched panties, he huffed the scent of you a second time causing you to squirm away from the action.

Closing your eyes and rolling your lips around your teeth, you tried to silence your whines to collect yourself. Once again trying to convince yourself that you had more power over your bodily wants and needs.

“Stop, please.”

Your plea was met with a sardonic giggle and as you looked down and was met with the sick glow of his yellow eyes. Dalton stalked back up your body, hovering over your face and clicking his tongue at you mockingly. As you were entranced by the figure above you, you failed to realize that he unbound your wrists from the cord. The sudden freedom surprised you but was swallowed by the feeling of his hand slithering in your panties and rubbing his finger across your slick folds.

Your body shuddered in hedonism, rolling your hips up into the feeling. As one finger slipped its way into your slick cavern your hands found solace in fisting the sheets. As he entered a second finger you couldn’t contain your sounds.

“Ah~! I can’t believe this is happening. I can’tbelievethisishappening.”

In your stupor of sexual panic, a low chuckle brought you back down to your body. His fingers curled inside of you repeatedly hitting the special spongey spot you cherished so much. As your moans became more frequent and less controlled, he removed his fingers from your pulsating hole and ripped your panties off of your sensitive frame. You whined out not only at the loss of contact but at the sudden cool air that breezed over your skin. Settling into your body you were panting heavily as you stared down Dalton.

His yellowed eyes still igniting fear but simultaneously leaving you wanton and in a state of ache. That conflicting feeling flooded your brain again and soon felt guilt peering over the horizon. Before you were given the chance to wrestle with your thoughts, Dalton straddled himself over your body. One hand grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks to pry your mouth open just enough to shove his fingers into your mouth. He looked down at you, a small smirk adorning his face.

“Suck.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden roughness you complied immediately not wanting to make the situation even more escalated. Your eyebrows furrow, your face plagued with anxiety as you watch Dalton come closer to your face. The leftover stain of blood that was on his chin smeared across your lower cheek as his breath fanned over your skin leaving your body wanting more. As he removed his fingers from your mouth, he licks from your chip up to the tip of your nose. Dalton pulls away slightly so he can get a better look at your face as a venomous smile pulls at his.

He takes the hand that was holding your face and drags it down the side of your cheek as he exhales a phrase that would chill your bones.

“Everything I’m going to do to you…he wishes he could do himself.”

The anxiety you felt prior was beginning to trickle back in as you realized the tank top you were wearing underneath the cardigan provided you little safety from the one above. Dalton’s hands slid up your torso underneath your tank top, his hands massaging over the soft flesh of your breast. Undoing the front clasp, your tits pancaked out of the fabric only for one to be caught by Dalton’s rough hand and the other encased by his lips.

You tried to keep a coherent thought, to push back against him but you lacked the mental will due to the rapture spidering through your body. As his mouth left your nipple, the cold air sent shivers through your chest and rippled down your back as his lips savagely placed open mouth kisses along your jawline, nipping at your skin with each release.

Caught up in the feeling you almost blocked out the sound of his belt becoming undone. But as soon as you were aware, the time to react had come to pass. His cock, hard and heavy was pulled out from the layers of fabric and you felt it tap against your inner thigh. You were suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you were and the understanding of what was about to happen next rushed through you.

“W-wait! I don’t, I can’t I~ah! Fuck!”

Before you had the chance to form a coherent thought, his cock entered your seraphic walls and his teeth bit at the skin on your neck. A mark that would surely leave a stain in the aftermath. Having already been overstimulated by the situation itself, the stretch of his cock was horrifically sinful. You couldn’t help the fluttering of your walls as he rocked his length in and out of you at a harrowing pace.

As he finally let go of your neck he huffed out in the intersection of your neck and shoulder. His exhales made your skin humid and left you with another layer of unwanted pleasure. Trying to bring yourself back down to your body, your hand released the binding grip it had on the bedsheets and sought refuge in Dalton’s sweatshirt, something proving to be a mistake.

A low growl erupted from Dalton’s throat and before you could register what was happening, he had pulled himself out of you and manhandled you to get on your hands and knees.

“What made you think that you could touch me, hmm?”

Like a viper his hand webbed itself in your hair, gripping it at the base and pulling your body up. Adrenaline pumping, you were searching for a viable response but came up with nothing but babbles.

“I-I don’t, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

He controlled the movements of your head, forcing you to crane your neck and stare at him in his amber orbs one last time. Mocking your apology, he cooed at you.

“Aww, you’re sorry? Why don’t you show me how sorry you are?”

Punctuating his statement by rushing his cock back into your ruined cunt, you cried out at the feeling. He shoved your face back into the bed, his pace now unrelenting and no longer a derivative of pleasure but rather of power. With every thrust you felt the tip of his cock assault your cervix, causing tears to well up in your eyes and dry into the sheets beneath you. It was overwhelming, feeling like all decision was stolen from you.

The only thing that filled the room now were the occasional groans from the figure above you and muffled sobs from yourself. You hated that you could feel the approaching feelings of ecstasy building in your lower stomach. The heat was building and the suffocating squeezes from your gummy walls around his cock were more than enough to alert him to your demise.

“You gonna cum around me, you filthy slut? Enjoyed every second of this didn’t you?”

The guilt you were warding off finally made its way to the forefront of your emotions but you couldn’t find it within yourself to admit that you did, in fact, enjoy all of this. You settled for denial. Denial would save you from the inevitable self reflection you’d have to face.

“No, no no I didn’t! I didn’t enjoy it. I didn-!”

Your body cut you off, your orgasm washing over you reluctantly but comedically in timing. As your body shuddered around him, you heard that same derisive chuckle leave his throat mocking you yet again.

“Keep telling yourself th~aht.”

He pulled himself out of you, spraying his seed across the exposed portion of your back. The warmth felt overt, wicked, and it was something you didn’t want on you. You didn’t have the gall to face the being behind you. Instead, you let your body fall limp against the bed as the being fronting as Dalton stood up and fixed himself back into his clothes. From behind you heard him.

“Say hi to him for me.”

Not expecting a response from you, he left Dalton’s body. His earthly form collapsing on your dorm floor. You didn’t have the strength to turn and help him up as he came to, too busy wrestling with your emotions as tears pooled out of your eyes. You heard your Dalton groan and stand up reaching to turn on the lamp light on his art desk. As the warm light illuminated the room, he turned around silence and shock devastating him as he took in the sight of you.

You tried to quell your sobs, but your body kept shaking them out. Dalton slowly walked over to you trying to survey your body without touching you. When his eyes landed on the alabaster stains that painted your lower back a terrifying realization overcame him.

“Y/n…? Y/n, talk to me.”

The gentle tone was something you missed dearly despite only being gone for such a short amount of time. It comforted you knowing that the worst was over for at least right now. Dalton kneeled on the floor resting his upper body on the side of the bed. You turned your head slowly, still somewhat expecting to meet those hideous yellow eyes but when you saw the gentle and disconcerted brown pupils you were swamped with relief. Tears still were falling across your face, their frequency diminishing.

You gave him a weak smile, a small “hey” leaving your lips. Like cracked porcelain, he wouldn’t dare touch you. He couldn’t break you more than he already had. His tone weak and regretful, he scanned over your fragile body trying to understand how this happened. He let his head fall next to yours, burying his head in sheets.

“What did I do to you?”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fanfic #insidious #insidious the red door #horror smut #dalton lambert smut #insidious fanfic #horror fanfiction #horror imagines #ty simpkins #dalton lambert imagines

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bayleymania · 2 months

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You girl has her diploma!! I officially can say I have a film degree. I feel so happy! The fact that I chose this career because wrestling and its storylines inspired me so much and the only thing I wanted was to write for a wrestling company... And thank you to all of you, thank you to all my mutuals that supported me during the entire career, gave me strength to continue and never give up.

WE DID IT!

Now, Triple H, hire me.

#personal #lexie speaks

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chaplinfortheages · 1 year

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A glass slide for Mutual film "Easy Street", 1917.

#charlie chaplin #“easy street”#1917 #mutual film company

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bkenber · 1 year

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Eric Bana on Portraying Such a Charming Villain in 'Deadfall'

WRITER’S NOTE: This article was originally written in 2012. Watching Eric Bana as Addison in Stefan Ruzowitzky’s “Deadfall” will remind many of his breakthrough performance as Chopper Read in “Chopper.” Both films have him playing characters who are charming yet fearsome, and his unpredictability as an actor had us on the edge of our seats throughout. But hearing Bana talk about how he prepared…

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nicolesainz · 8 months

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Timeless (CS55)

Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Warnings: much much fluff, bits of heattbreak, flashbacks

Summary: Carlos has had many supporters, even during his first years in racing. Deep down he knows that only one of them stands truly out and will be by his side until the end of the line.

A/N: The story is from Carlos’s POV :)

Two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house.

“Will you make me wait any longer? I’m bored, let’s go!” Y/N hand’s we’re grabbing my legs, pulling me off of my bed. It was Saturday afternoon and exactly a week after I’d fly to England for two whole months.

Two entire months without being near Y/N. Hearing her voice. Feeling her touch. Being hugged by her and kissed on the forehead. Being encouraged by her praising words. Feeling the butterflies in my stomach every time she is around.

“Okay, fine, fine. You win! Let’s go. We will take my car this time. Yours is always squeaking and I’m afraid we will be stranded.” I gave in on her suggestion of going to see a new romantic movie that had just been released. All our mutual friends had invited her with them, but she always refused to. Two were the main reasons why.

First, they all went as couples and she didn’t want to be third wheeling. And secondly, I wasn’t here. I was in Barcelona for testing. Now it was finally her time to see the movie in the comfort she chose.

I was never planning on going to see that movie. Like Lando has told me, romance movies are not my cup of tea. But I’d sit and admire her passion about those films all day and night.

“I’m so sorry miss, but we are sold out. Maybe come tomorrow morning to check for new tickets?” The cashier tried to sound a little bit hopeful for Y/N’s sake, but that didn’t quite work.

“Oh yeah, sure. Thank you very much!” Y/N put on a fake smile and took my hand in hers, leading us back to my car. Disappointment was drawn all over her face. I couldn’t bare looking at her like this. I felt so bad that I couldn’t do anything.

“I should’ve gone with the guys. Why did I think there would still be availability for tickets? It’s the highest selling movie and has such a big demand.” She was scratching her head, trying to hold back the frustration.

“I’m so sorry amorcito. I would’ve booked you tickets if I knew earlier. We can try again tomorrow. I’m up for it.” Truth be told, I would have fallen asleep on the cinema seat if we went to the next day’s screening, since my father had taken me to practice.

“No worries Carlos. Let’s just go home and we can order something. My parents are out so we can find an old dvd or play a board game.” She wouldn’t even look at me. She was staring at her phone, typing to her girlfriends how in the end we didn’t find any tickets.

What took me by surprise was some of the messages I peeked as I was trying to catch her attention, clearly failing.

“Will Carlos take you anywhere romantic?”

“I bet if you asked him to go to the fun fair he’d speed there”

“TELL HIM THE TRUTH GIRL”

What truth? Did she want to go to the fun fair? Where should I take care? What was she hiding from me?

I turned on the car and took the opposite direction from her house, which lead to one of Madrid’s biggest fun fairs ever. Especially this time of the year, it was really enjoyable and nice.

I wanted Y/N to enjoy her time. Have fun. Live freely. See her happy. I was driving as fast as I could, so she wouldn’t notice where I was taking her.

Comfortable silence had take over the car ride, but after a few moments I heard slight snoring. I looked next to me during the red light to see that she had fallen asleep.

I don’t even know how many hours of sleep she’s lost due to talking with me on the phone, keeping me company, from the other side of the world. While I was warming up her voice was calming me down. It was like a ritual. But I didn’t understand that I was affecting her negatively this much. I had to make it up to her.

I decided not to wake her up until we reached our destination. I turned off the radio so the music wouldn’t bother her and focused on the road.

I would’ve read your love letters every single night.

“Mi guapa, do you mind waking up for a second?” I softly whispered in her ear, not wanting to startle the peace she was in. Slowly, she was rubbing her eyes and only the bright lights of the fair hit her eyes, her mouth fell open in surprise.

"Wha-Carlos what is this?"

"A way of trying to bring your smile back"

Y/N took my hand in hers and squeezed it very tightly, as if I was going to disappear. The sparkles in her eyes gave me hope and her cheeks, even though light was limited, were as maroon as ever.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's go have some fun." I opened her door and she quickly grabbed my bicep and guided us inside the funfair. She was swirling and shouting at all the games she wanted to play or the rides she wanted us to go in.

I am not a funfair guy. Even as a kid, when my sisters brought me here, I would sit out most of the rides with an ice cream on my hand, enjoying the view. I feel like with Y/N being so excited and thrilled, my inner child found what it was looking for.

What excites me is racing and speed. That day, I had found an even better reason to be excited and happy. I didn't mind the noise, the screams, the swearing, or the chilly air. I was purely happy just being alongside Y/N and seeing her with a massive smile plastered on her face.

When we entered the haunted house, we had been warned that actors pop up every now and then. She wouldn't let go of my hand, scared that in the darkness of the room I would run away. But no. I had to stop running away from her. From my feelings towards her.

I was holding her waist firmly, wanting to balance her and prevent any possible accidents. As we were close to the end of the 'tour', a witch actress scared the both of us for the last time with skeletons surrounding us.

Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs. But what she did say, almost made me fall on the ground.

"I do not want to die without having kissed you"

She wanted to kiss me? My Y/N wanted to get a taste of my lips? And as it seemed as badly as I did?

I wasted no time and in utter dark, I held her face against mine, smashing my lips onto hers, bringing the heat of her body closer to mine, wanting to secure her.

The taste of her lips was as I had imagined. The feeling I had in my stomach was levels superior to the thrill Formula One had ever given me. From race win to podiums, I had never felt like this before. It was everything I wanted. Everything I desired.

When I broke the kiss, we walked outside of the haunted house and being confronted with a visible shock on her face, but it being painted wine red. Her fingers were touching her lips, unaware of what had just happened. The other hand was on her chest.

"Is it possible to die from butterflies or being in love?" she whispered softly, coming closer to me and eyeing me directly. My own heart warmed at the sight of her being so shy and innocent. Jesus we were 20 but at that moment I felt like a 15 year old boy again, falling in love with my best friend, with whom I would share irrelevant information about my mechanics on my home's front porch.

"Don't die on me cariño. I haven't even said 'I love you' yet."

#carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

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baekhyunsbambii · 3 months

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Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

#yeosang #yeosang x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #yeosang x you #yeosang smut #kpop smut #ateez smut #yeosang imagines #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang smut

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especiallythewomenandthechildren · 5 months

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As If Destiny (part two)🌹

Part One🌹

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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The rest of the day went by quick, with you avoiding Coriolanus as much as possible.

You attempted to be subtle and it probably would have worked on anyone else (besides Sejanus) but Snow was far too intelligent and analytical to not take notice. It was lunch hour and you had made it this far through the day and internally begged that he had long forgotten, but of course, he didn't.

You and Sejanus were in deep conversation about the new renovations occurring in the Capital park and how you were planning on going down there one day and help with the planting and such. Well you were -untill the smack of a lunch tray was heard next to you. You and Sejanus both look up to see a slight smile on Coryo's lips.

"Seat taken?"

Sejanus quickly gestured for him to take his seat with a bright smile while you moved your chair to make more space for you both as he sat next to you while Sejanus was across you both.

"No. Nope. You both are going to be bickering all of lunch and I would like to enjoy my meal in the PEACEFUL company of my friends."

"That was dramatic, even for you, Snow." You playfully chided with a grin.

You baited him and he readily took it, refuting that he has never been or is dramatic. You open your both to refute him when your mutual friend cut you both off

You both shut up at that, you with a slight pout that made Coryo laugh. You were ready to roast the man alive when you got a painful kick to the shin by Sejanus as a warning. With a quick glare, you went back to your meal that consisted of a hearty sandwich and a few fruits on the side along with a cookie for desert. Both boys had a similar portion, Coriolanus with a little more.

It was indeed peaceful as the three of you ate your meal and stared out the vast windows to the beautiful capital. In a quite whisper, Coryo turns to you and asks "How's your wrist?"

You turn to him a bit surprised and embarrassed. You looked into his clear blue eyes and assured him you were completely fine and thanked him for pointing it out. He nodded along but was clearly waiting for you to elaborate. It makes sense why he was waiting. Why did you have so much blood and how did you not feel it?

You were thinking about telling him that it was your mother's. Your peers knew that she was ill and they, along with their parents, sent their well wishes.

But they didn't know how bad it was. No one besides you, father, house staff, and the Plinths, who have become a second family to you.

You always wondered if the wishes were truly sincere. Your mother, Cloria, was an absolute darling of the Capital and everyone loved her so it wouldn't be surprising if they were but then again, they mostly sent them towards the way of your father. He wasn't a cruel or hateful man and a rather good father and person but he was one of the most powerful people in the Capital, thus Panem, and people would be willing to do anything to get on his good side in hopes of sharing that power.

"Are you not hungry, Y/N?" Coriolanus asks you.

You spaced out again. great. You shake your head and offer your lunch to him, seeing as he already finished his and heard his stomach grumble.

"Oh, no that's okay, thank you!"

He flashes you his charming smile that might have caught you off guard but right now, you frankly didn't care. You simply just pushed the tray in his direction until it nearly pushed off his prior tray off the table while you entered the conversation he and Sejanus were having when you were in your head.

The rest of lunch and school day went fine, no more mysterious blotches of blood or the curious stare of those beautiful blue eyes. You made your routine walk home and checked in with your mother, who looked somehow even worse than this morning. She was fast asleep but looked in so much pain and her slight jerks proved your assumption right.

He, like you, never stopped thinking about her and always stayed by her side the second he made it home.

You were questioning whether or not to wake her when the sound of your father's footsteps interrupted. You turned around and gave him a quick hug while he placed a quick kiss on your hairline.

He gave the usual small talk on how school is and how Sejanus is doing. He asked those questions and gave replies to all of your responses but he never once took his eyes off his wife.

You let him know you were going to freshen up and head over to the Plinths and with one last hug, you were on your way.

As soon as your turned, you heard him enter your mother's makeshift hospital room within your penthouse. You sighed thinking about Sejanus's comment on how you were suffering. As you changed and cleaned off, you pondered.

You knew he didnt mean you were suffering like your mother, in physical pain. But were you like your father? You would argue you weren't, you weren't losing the love of your life, the mother of your child. And could you be suffering if you tried to spend as much time away from her as possible?

You weren't suffering, you were a coward. When news of your mother spread, you know some of your peers were slightly pleased, even if with no mal intention, as it was expected that your grades and performance would slip. But it actually turned out to be the exact opposite. You threw yourself in your assignments, the only peace you found besides the warm home of the Plinths. The home, at this point, you have already began the walk to along the paved walkways of the city.

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"That was absolutely delicious, thank you Mrs. Plinth" you try to be as cheery as possible. The meal, some sort of opulent wheat mixture with savory fish, was truly one of the best you've ever had and that's saying something in the Plinth house. But you knew you didn't need to have to amplify your reactions in front of them but it felt rude with any other reaction. She opened her mouth "Why thank you darling but please call me m-" her request was cut off by her son clearing his throat.

The table went silent. You all knew that she was going to request you to call her "Ma", as Mrs. Plinth was far too formal for your relationship with her. She already considered you a daughter but she knew the issue calling her ma might cause you. You were at their dinner table to avoid the constant coughes and screams of your actual mother after all.

You send a reassuring smile and she attempts to bring back the causal mood. "So y/n, Sejanus tells me that you both have an enormous paper for Rhaen." You and Sejanus laugh, knowing how much you both complained about your professor to her. You nod in agreement, informing her that you were probably going to head to the libary after dinner to start on it.

Your confession was received with a groan by Sejanus (which was quickly chided by his ma).

"We just got it today y/n. You can wait a few days, you've been doing so much work lately".

You knew he was trying to make sure you don't get too burnt out, especially before graduation, final exams, and the awarding of the Plinth Prize. But you simply shook your head and reiterated that you are going to start the oh so dreaded assignment.

And that's exactly what you did. That night. The night after. And the night after. It was on your fourth night of extreme working conditions that you were interrupted. You were on your conclusion, tens of pages in, when someone cleared their throat above you. You didn't know what time it was as you always worked untill you were kicked out by the librarian.

"Please, I just have a few more sentences and I'll be completely done. And I mean it this time I swear!"

You didn't even bother to look up, trying to finish up as quickly as possible.

"Wait you already finished Rhaens paper?"

That was indeed not the voice of the ancient looking librarian. You look up, eyes in pain from staring down at your paper for so long, and see once again, those deep blue eyes of Coriolanus Snow.

"What are you doing here?"

You ask, extremely curious why he is here so late at night. wait it was night right? You quickly scan the windows in fear of seeing the breaks of dawn. When you were met with pitch black darkness, you breathed a sigh of relief. Relief so deep that you completely forgot the charming blonde was right in front of you.

"I think I should be asking why you are here. And frankly how long have you been here."

He replies to your current state, which you assumed was quite disheveled. You just shrugged and spread your arms to gesture to your piles of books and papers. He nods in uncertainty while analyzing your face, taking in every detail, seemingly to figure out some sort of mystery you didn't understand.

You just stared back waiting for him to ask the clear questions in his mind. But he just kept on analyzing. Your perception of time was completely warped but even you could understand he was taking too long.

"Hey so since you've been staring for so long, how is my skin care routine looking?"

You said in a slightly irritated tone. He was interrupting your precious moments of focus so he could do whatever he was doing.

Seemingly slightly startled, as if he forgot you were there, he shook his head in apology.

"Is this why you don't sleep at night y/n?"He asks.

Now it was your turn to stare at him. More like a weird mixture of gawking, squinting, and glaring. You were going to open your mouth to question him and why in the world Sejanus told him (as he was the only one who knew), but he put his hands up in defense.

"Sejanus didn't tell me if that's what you were thinking. It's clear on your face. You have bags, you look pale, and you are never focused in class. I never wished to ask as I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or attacked."

He confessed the last part a little quieter, seeming to remember your reaction when he pointed out the blood on your sleeve.

You ducked your head, a habit nowadays, and tried to recollect yourself. Figure out some sort of response. If you told him yes, you were days without proper sleep because of your writing, it wouldn't technically be lying. But it didn't feel right. Coriolanus would understand, you were sure of it. You knew he lost his mother and he would sympathize.

You also wanted to assure him you weren't trying to be cutthroat about the Plinth Prize. In fact, you wished he wins it rather than you, he worked harder than you and most definitely than any of your other classmates.

But any response was cut by the voice of the actual ancient looking librarian.

"You said you were just going to get your book and leave young man. We closed ten minutes ago and yet you both, especially you miss, have overstayed. Go home. It's far too late and your families must be worrying. You are academy students are you not?"

Her stern words echoed into the empty libary that you just noticed. You both nodded to her question and she responded with a heavy sigh, shaking her wrinkly head while muttering something about teenagers nowadays. You were going to ponder that if she is upset with you two being good students and dedicated to your work was bad, how were teens back in her days? And you most likley would have ended up down a rabbit hole of thoughts if you didn't notice Coryo picking up your books and putting then in your bag.

"Oh you don't need to do that, I got it!"

You got up, far too fast and nearly fell over. He quickly grabbed you by your arm and pulled you back, steadying you. You stare up at him surprised and still a bit shook as he flashes you "yeah sure you are" kind of look. He finishes up clearing your table before giving you his arm to lead you out the libary, speed walking past the harsh glare of the old woman, a few giggles coming out of you due to your situation.

You and him walked in silence for a few minutes and you took it all in. It was late at night and you were on the arm Coriolanus Snow as he carried your bag and took you home. Once the thought hit you, you were sure that you were blushing, hoping the lights of the Capital didn't illuminate it too much. But it wasn't a bad thought. No, not in the slightest.

You found it endearing, even a slight desire. you are definitely in a hazy state, your voice of reason mentioned at your attempts to delude the intentions of his actions.

"Would it be okay if I took you upstairs? I want to make sure you make it there safely" He wonders as you reach the base of your complex. Aww, he wants to make sure you made it home safely.

His concern was a quick reminder however of your weak state and inability to move nor act (or think, that little voice chimed in) normally. In reality, he probably didn't want to be arrested for your murder because he was simply the last person seen with you before you fell down the stairs because you can't even count the number on your fingers properly.

You nodded and he led the way, opening up the door for you. You weren't really conscious as he clicked the button for the elevator (something you forgot existed in your imagination of how the night would have gone if the boy was not with you) or when you both got to your front door. But your consciousness came in full force and all of your sleepy haze went away as you heard the absolutely horrific screams of your mother.

how did you forget. how did you forget. Somehow, on your entire walk with Coriolanus and when asked if he could take you up, you completely forgot what would be awaiting you. And the absolute horror it must be for him. You quickly turn to him, as he looked like he was going to kick down the door and come to her rescue. You rushed to pull him back, attempting to assure him.

"It's okay Coryo! She just gets like this sometimes. My father is with her and so are nurses. I promise, it's okay. Thank you truly for taking me home, go get some rest".

You try to assure him with a smile, but he wasn't looking at you. He was staring straight ahead at your door, his chest rising up and down in deep pants and breaths. You try to get his attention but it wasn't working, so you put a few finger on his chin and make him look at you.

Looking deep in his eyes, you evenly say "It's okay. Please, just go home Coryo, I'm sure your family is worried where you are."

He says nothing for a moment, simply gazing deep into your sympathetic eyes. In a whisper, his question comes out more as a statement.

"This why you haven't been sleeping?"

You sigh, knowing there is no need to deflect now. You nod and take a breath, ready to turn around and head into your home, knowing you will be up for hours. Then another round of your mother's shrieks hit your ears and you cringed back tears and shuddered at the sound.

You were still close enough to Coryo that you backed up into him in reaction. He quickly wrapped an arm around you protectively, as if he could shield you from her pain. You didn't know what to do, so you just stood there, wrapped by his arm just listening untill it intensified for a quick second as the door opened.

Rhayes, your long-time family chauffeur but who is more of uncle as he has been serving your family since your mother was your age, came out. He seemed stunned and alarmed, you assumed from the scene inside but the way he stared at Coriolanus arm around your torso made you question.

"Apologies, miss y/n, I thought I heard voices".

His eyes flicked over you both once again as he spoke.

You wondered how to explain your situation and were going to move Coryo's arm off you before he interrupted with "No need, we simply came by to let someone know y/n will be staying with my family, if that is alright."

It seemed both you and Rhayes were shocked into stillness. He however recovered much faster.

"Is that so?" He asked skeptically, looking at you for confirmation.

You were thinking about brushing Coriolanus statement off and letting him peacefully rest for the night, not wishing to be a burden to him or his family. But he seemed concerned, was he not? You couldn't trust yourself at this point, but you could trust the slight squeeze he gave with his hand to let you know it was okay.

You nodded your head in agreement and that seemed to worry Rhayes even more, a look of guilt in his eyes.

"Would you please tell my father that I stayed with a friend and will be back tomorrow. I still have work to get done."

Your loyal driver takes in the situation once more and nods his head in obedience, wishing you a good night and well wishes with your ever growing work.

He opened the door into the now silent home as your mother has seemed to have calmed and looked back at you with those deep brown eyes of his, searching for something, as he closed the door. You didn't realize the quick glare however, he sent deep into the eyes of the Snow heir. Once the door was closed, Coryo moved his arm from snaking around your waist and around your front, to holding your hand and leading you towards the elevator once more.

He dragged you a few feet when you stopped, making him turn around fast and landing quite close to your face. You were looking up into his eyes, which seemed to sparkle under the dim warm lights of your penthouse hallways. He looked back into your eyes, something that seems to be happening quite often lately.

"Are you sure?"

You were nervous to ask, not wishing to offend him (and in all honesty, dreading returning back to your situation). He seemed to somehow deepen your shared stare and leaned in a little bit closer.

He whispered "Let's go home darling".

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A/N: AHHHHHH! Two chapters back to back! Don't expect this pace to keep up however, especially with school returning back (only for a few more weeks but still). I know it was LONG and maybe unnecessarily so. You guys are warriors for reading through all that! I know I said that characters may be ooc but Snow may be the most. I know he seems pretty fluffy rn but I am trying my best not too change him too much as I find him interesting with his flaws. Also, in later chapters, you will see that he is now the only one with a flawed character and outlook (cough reader cough). But hey, maybe this time, he will use one of those chances to reform. or not. Guess you just have to wait and see! Thank you again and much love❤️

@notyourwildestdream 🌹

#coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #sejanus x reader #sejanus deserved better #snow lands on top #sejanus plinth #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #reader insert #x reader

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neverinadream · 6 months

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What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Summary: What's a better way to watch horror movies than placing a bet on who will jump first?

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: for @thoseboysinblue

Song Inspo: Black Butterflies and Déjà Vu - The Maine

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, moments of fluff, best friends to lovers, mentions of the reader needing to wear glasses, soft dom!christian but also hints of sub!christian, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise kink, body appreciation, nipple play, grinding, oral (female & male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, spoilers for paranormal activity and talk to me, not edited

Notes: happy halloween whores 🫶🏻 this is a very long one that has taken way too long to write and i apologise that it is being posted later than i normally would post a fic. this idea has changed so much since it was first shared by my lovely mutual/friend. i hope you like it. feedback is always appreciated, especially for a fic as long as this

"Gossip Girl? Again?"

"Stop judging my watch list," Christian huffs, resting his arm on the back of his sofa.

There's a pattern of rom-coms and TV series he had already watched in their entirety, with a sprinkle of recommendations from yourself in there. You fought back a smile knowing he took your recommendations seriously. "Give me your right hand," you request, setting the remote on your lap. He raises his eyebrow but doesn't question it. "Just as I thought," you mumble, nodding your head as you gaze down at his hand, inspecting his palm and scanning the long length of his fingers, "you need to stop abusing this hand and get yourself a girlfriend."

"Oh-" He rips his hand back with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "My dry spell isn't as bad as yours," he makes a good point, welcoming the vanilla and sweet citrus scent that hangs around you as you shuffle closer. Your leg brushes against his and a small smile pinches on the corners of his lips, little butterflies fluttering their wings in the deepest part of his stomach. "When was the last you got laid?"

"Hopefully, this week." You go back to scanning his Netflix account, missing the bridge of his nose turning pink. "Italy is full of gorgeous men," you hum, wrapping your arm around your tummy, caging it underneath as you lean forward.

"Just put your glasses on," he sighs, watching you squint your eyes, "you're making your eyes worse doing that."

You glance over your shoulder. "When did you suddenly change your career?"

He doesn't appreciate your smart mouth, getting up off the sofa in search of them. "It's called being a caring friend," he mumbles, taking one last look at you bent over and leaning forward, before slipping out of his living room.

He hears you call out to him, something about them being in his guest room, but he's already one step ahead of you, opening the bedroom door and taking a step inside. "Don't you mean your room?" He calls back, treading over a pair of heels you had complained about wearing.

Another smile, an even bigger smile, appears as he thinks about last night. Blood stirred and heated his cheeks as he thought about the simple yet beautiful way your dress hugged your body. His skin tingled remember the smell of vanilla and how it clung to every inch of your skin, so much that it made him dizzy. And he swallows a hard breath as he recalls being at the foot of the bed, his thumbs stroking over your soft skin, before unfastening the straps and helping you out of your heels.

"Ha! Nice one!" Your voice cuts him out of the memory.

"It can still be yours!"

You were a freelance animator, recently coming off the success of a short film for some company in London that Christian couldn't remember the name of. It was a dark piece, playing heavily on the tropes of loneliness and trying to find a sense of belonging, told through the POV of a colourless character in a world full of bright colours. Definitely not for children, Christian realised the first time he watched it, wiping away a tear as the credits rolled, a beaming smile on his face as your name flashed on the screen.

It won the company an award, and added a little more attention to your name, making it easier to do the whole "freelance" part of your job description.

It was that part of your job description that Christian used in favour of you moving in with him. Back in London, you were living four streets away from him, and there wasn't a day he didn't go without seeing you. He missed that. Italy was lonely without you.

Everywhere was lonely without you.

Your glasses are sitting on top of your open sketchbook, partially lost under covers, and Christian clears away a cushion, neatly placing it against the pillows. A hedgehog wearing a mask of sorts has been sketched onto the page, with an owl wearing clown makeup sketched on another area of the page, a knife dripping with blood held in its beak. Cute little woodland animals made to look like something from a horror movie. He didn't know if he should be impressed by your talent or shudder from his own dislike of horror movies.

Both, he had decided, grabbing your glasses and leaving the room.

"No."

"What?" Your arm hovers in the air, your hand wrapped around the TV remote, with the 'Horror' section of his Netflix up on the screen. "What's the matter?" You ask, with a coy smile, knowing exactly what his grievance was. If there was one rule for any impromptu movie night, it was no horror movies allowed.

Christian's rule, of course.

You, on the other hand, loved horror movies. The blood. The gore. The old classic slashers. Movies with a budget so low they either become cult classics or a painful ninety minutes. You loved it all. You loved the suspense and the anticipation of waiting for the next jumpscare. The adrenaline that pumped through your veins every time that it happened. It left you feeling more alive than ever.

"We are not, and I can't stress this enough, watching a horror movie."

"I'm not wearing them," you distract him enough to keep flicking through the catalogue. Saw. Don't Breathe. Last Night In Soho. Halloween. You flicked over each one of them, hoping at least one of them would spike your interest. "I hate them," you mumble, ducking and turning your head away from him. He grumbles something about you being stubborn under his breath, his body partially leaning over you as he places his knee on the edge of his sofa. "I don't- Ow!" You gasp, mouth hanging open and head turned up to look at him. "You just poked me in the eye-"

"Because you wouldn't stop moving!"

You readjust your glasses, your head still turned upwards, eyes squinting up at him. "God, is that what you really look like?" He doesn't appreciate your joke, rolling his eyes as you lower your glasses. "Seriously? I should've worn these things the night we met," you continue, adding a second act, "might have thought twice about falling into bed with you."

A deep blush sets on his cheeks, reaching his ears as partial moments of that night come to the forefront of his mind. Hands tracing soft skin. Mouths coming together in feverish exchanges. Him stumbling over his words the next morning, unable to bring himself to ask you if you wanted to get breakfast, settling on remaining as "just friends."

His teammates had even joked that he had fucked his way into the friend zone.

"Give me the remote," he stretches out his hand. You pull your hand into your body, restricting his access to the remote. "You know we have one rule for a movie night: no horror movies."

"Oh, come on," you tease, biting the tip of your tongue, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smile, "it's not my fault you're a big scaredy cat."

He rolls his eyes, despite liking the mischievous glint you got in your eyes every time you saw an opportunity to tease him.

"I think I might have to start telling people your tiger tattoo is just a botched job of a sweet, little Tabby, because a real tiger definitely wouldn't shit themselves at the likes of Scary Movie." You point the remote back at the TV, flicking through a subsection of the horror genre until one of them seemed the right fit for tonight's festivities. "It's not even a horror movie. It's a parody!"

"First of all," he reaches back, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn, "I didn't shit myself." He tosses the pieces of popcorn in your direction, the sweet pieces of confection bouncing off your shoulder and your cheek. You pick it up, the tips of your fingers feeling sticky from just one touch, and throw it back at him. He bats it away from him, and you stick your tongue out at him. "It was you who kept purposely making me jump by jabbing your finger into my side."

"I always find it funny how you and I recall events so differently," you mumble, clicking the down button and flicking onto the paranormal section.

"Okay," he talks over you, reaching forward for one of the two beers sitting on his coffee table, "just stick a movie on." He pops the cap off the bottle with a low grunt, flipping it onto the coffee table. It bounces twice, hits the edge of the centrepiece, a decorative glass bowl his parents gave him as a moving away/house warming present, and flips onto the floor. "And just don't pick a super scary one," he mumbles, taking a sip, "I actually want to sleep tonight."

"Scared you're gonna get nightmares?"

"I don't get nightmares."

"No, of course you don't," you shake your head, "you're Mr Captain America! How could you let yourself get scared over something that's not even real?" He rolls his eyes, giving you a soft shove to the side with his elbow. You pluck the brown stained bottle from his hand, noticing the not so subtle way he was watching your lips as you take a sip. "Do I have something on my face?" You ask, the bridge of his nose blushing red. He turns his head away from you, mumbling something under his breath but you didn't catch it. "Sorry?" It was like poking a sleeping bear. "What did you say?"

"Come on," he mumbles, motioning his hand in the direction of his TV.

"Don't rush me," you hiss, catching your tongue between your teeth, the tip poking out from between your lips. It amused him greatly how serious you took picking the movies for movie night, but it was just one of those 'little things' that he loved about you. "You wouldn't want to be rushed whilst taking a penalty, or something."

He pulls a face. "I don't see how those two equate to being the same thing."

"I-Shut up."

You settle on an old favourite: Paranormal Activity.

It was scary enough that you knew Christian would jump a few times, but not scary enough to have him crawling into your bed in the middle of the night. A single creak could be a footstep. Pipes cooling down could be a ghost groaning. Silly tricks of his mind and all enough to scare him into your bed, with his tail tucked between his legs like a scared puppy. If you wanted that, maybe you would've picked something like The Ring or The Blair Witch Project.

"Shouldn't be too scary for you," you tease him, grinning over your shoulder.

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"You don't use-" Christian lifts his head from the cushion, his mouth turned down into a frown, his focus turned away from his television and now on you. You had moved to the end of his sofa, moving to give him space to stretch out, with your knees pulled up to your chest, toes wiggling as they sat over the edge. "Are you going to sit there the whole time?" He quizzes, meeting your eyes as you turned to look at him.

"Yes?" You pan down to his body stretched out on the sofa. One knee was pointed to the ceiling, his other leg stretching the length, with his foot tapping against you. It wasn't deliberate, almost like he was still checking to see if you were still there. "Where else am I meant to sit?" You fire back your own question. "For a little guy, you sure know how to take up a lot of room."

"We both know I'm not little," he replies nonchalantly.

"I don't know," you shrug, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling, "it didn't really leave a lasting impression." You giggle, his foot tapping against you deliberately this time. "But, seriously, where else am I meant to sit? On the floor?" You motion in front of you. "On you?"

He grins, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back his thoughts, but you roll your eyes like you had read his mind. "Just lie with me," he mumbles, patting his hand against his chest.

"What, and crush you?"

It was now his turn to roll his eyes. "You're not going to crush me."

"I might."

"Do you see me?" He pans his hand down his body. "Do you see this? I can take my shirt off so you can better look-"

"Please don't."

He taps your leg again. "We both know you like me better when I have my shirt off," you avoid his eyes as he teases you like your eyes might deceive you and tell him he was right, "But, c'mon, I'm getting cold over here." He pouts, eyes looking rounder as he tries his best at 'puppy dog eyes.' He grabs at the air. "Please?!"

"You're actually the worst," you mumble, giving in to him, "the worst of the worst." Your bodies become a tangled mess, legs wedged between each other, his thigh half-straddled as you rest your head on his chest. His hand travels down your back, his fingers skimming along the band of skin exposed above your jeans. "Also, I call total bullshit on 'getting cold'," you add, unconsciously tucking your hand under his shirt. Your touch makes his skin tingle.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, looking down his nose. "Why's that?"

"Because you're perpetually warm."

Christian's attention flickers back and forth between you and the movie, pressing his fingers harder into your skin whenever Katie screams Micah's name, which you didn't mind, even though it would happen a lot. When he wasn't subtly trying to hide the jumping, he was glancing down at you, focusing on the steady and relaxed movement of your breathing. He would half-smile at the way you mumble your reactions under your breath, humming a simple "yes" or "okay" to acknowledge them.

He takes in a deep pull of your scent, closing his eyes as he lets the smell of honey and vanilla wash over him. Everything about you could make him dizzy. From your laugh to your smile. To the way you would always cut your sandwiches into four small squares because it made you think of the nostalgia of the school lunches your mum would make you. But nothing was like that honey and vanilla aroma that managed to stick to you like a second layer of skin.

"You better not be falling asleep, mister!" He grunts as you pinch his hip, his eyes snapping open at the sound of your voice. "I didn't lie down with you just so you could take a nap," you prop your chin against his chest.

"Then why did you?"

"Like I already said, you're always warm, and your apartment is freezing!"

Our apartment, he thinks to himself, knowing he'll bring the question up once more before you have to leave. "It's not cold," he says instead, tucking his free arm underneath his head, "and I wasn't falling asleep."

You raise your brows. "Yeah? Then what just happened?"

"He's just shown her the quija board and you just commented on them being stupid for using one." Your eyesbrows drop and the corners of his mouth twitch. "See," he gloats, giving the small of your back a soft pinch, "I wasn't falling asleep."

You chew your bottom lip. "I am right though, you should never use a quija board."

"No?"

"No!" You shake your head. "You don't know who you could be communicating with, or what you could be inviting in!" He smiles, making you squint your eyes and frown up at him. "What's that smile for?"

"You've thought about this before, haven't you?"

You turn your head down, mumbling your answer into his chest, using it to hide the embarrassment in your voice. Yes, you had thought about it. You had thought about it multiple times and every time you watched a movie where one would be used to contact the vengeful spirit haunting the unsuspecting couple, but it's the last thing you would admit it to Christian. It would just be another thing for him to tease you with.

"Sorry," he laughs, his whole chest shaking, "what was that?"

"I said I'm putting another movie on," you lie. He bites his tongue to stop the soft groan that nearly slips out when you straddle his waist, silently praying that his body can stay calm for all of two seconds. "This is getting boring," you stretch across and grab the remote, "I want something proper on."

He lets his hands travel down from your hips and onto your thighs, drumming his fingers against the dark denim. "This is something proper."

"Babe, this is two tropes away from being a parody!"

Babe. It makes his heart beat twice as fast. He clears his throat, doing his best attempt at dislodging the feeling from his chest. "There's not much left," he mumbles, lifting one hand away and following yours until it's out of his reach. He chuckles, the soft sound growing a little louder as you beam down at him with a triumphant smile. "Just leave this one on."

"Or," you press pause, silencing the screams, "we could have some fun."

"Fun?" His throat bops. "You and I have very definitions of what fun is." Your lips twitch. "And I don't like that smile."

"You shouldn't," you giggle, letting your weight sink further onto him, your core pressed firmly against his crotch. The not-so-subtle way his mouth parts on a slight groan makes your stomach flutter. For a second, you slip back into the memory of his hands grabbing at your hips and guiding them, as he threw his head back into his pillow, groaning your name which back then was foreign to his tongue. "Let's make a bet," you snap back to reality, "the first person to jump has to go down on the other person."

He mules it over for a second, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and spreading to his ears. "But what if neither of us jumps?" He asks, keeping his focus on something that isn't the movement of your hips as you shift above him.

"Then no gets to come today."

"You mean: you don't get to come today," he fires back, "you don't know what I was doing this morning."

"So, that's why I heard my name coming from your bathroom?" You throw him a wink. "Don't worry, I've basically nicknamed my vibrator CP." He rolls his eyes and mumbles a soft 'ha, ha' under his breath. If your current position wasn't already bad enough for him, then hearing about you using a vibrator on yourself was nearly tipping him over the edge. "So, do we have a deal?" You raise your eyesbrows.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Why not?" His tongue darts across his bottom lip, looking at you like you might be his last meal. "I've been looking for an excuse to eat your pussy again."

———————

Christian frowns. "I don't get it." You lift your head from the comfort of his shoulder, unable to hide a half-smile when you catch sight of the crease in his brow and the slight way his bottom lip would pout. Flashes of confusion fill his eyes. "She was the one sucking on his toes?"

"Yep."

"But she thought it was that...other thing?"

"Yep."

He sighs, running his hand down his face. "This is so confusing."

You prop your hand under your chin, using your free hand to poke his cheek. He bats your finger away, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "You're very pretty," you mumble, bringing your finger back against his cheek, touching the constellation of freckles that reside on his face. They were his prettiest features, after his eyes of course. "How are you single?"

"Me?" He slides his hand down your back, bunching up the fabric as he reaches the small of your back. His touch is warm and it makes you shiver. "What about you?" He counters, tucking his head down. His nose brushed against your temple, and you could smell the faint smell of beer and toothpaste on his breath. "You're a lot prettier than me."

"I go on dates," you shrug, finger drifting down to his bottom lip. It was soft and light shade of pink. And very, very kissable.

"You do?" His body tenses and the jealousy he feels churns in the pit of his stomach. "Oh..."

You wish you could say that your dating life was a story of success and one that involved you finding true love but, unfortunately, that just wasn't the case. The apps were full of guys looking for a night of easy sex or carrying bouquets of red flags. And the dates you were set up with either talked only about themselves, were hung up on their exes, or talked about their mothers at an alarming rate.

Oh, and none of them were Christian.

"But clearly none of them have worked out for me," you sigh, removing your hand and settling your head back down on his shoulder. His body relaxes, pulling you firmly against him. "It doesn't matter though, I don't need them," you mumble, breathing in the smell of the cologne that stuck to his skin. After being apart from him, you had come to realise that it smelt like home. "I've got you."

"For now and always."

For now and always.

It was your thing, you could say, a promise that neither would be alone.

You first said after Christian suffered one of his first injuries whilst at Chelsea. His stubborn ass had ignored your messages after the injury occurred, a part of him, he supposed, didn't want you to see him like that, but your ass was just as equally stubborn as his and you didn't take his silence as a final answer. You were there for his recovery every step of the way, and for every disruption that came afterwards, repeating the words: 'for now and always.'

You sit up on your elbow. "Christian?" He hums but doesn't look at you. "Chris..."

"What's u-" You silence him, pressing your lips against his, moaning softly into his mouth when you feel him kiss back. "Uh," he pulls back, touching his hand to your face, his fingers softly stroking your jaw, "hi-uh, what?" He nervously laughs, the tips of his ears turning red. "W-W-What was that for?"

"I don't know." You shrug, touching your hand to your mouth. "I'm sorry."

His eyes widen. "What? No! Don't apologise for kissing me. I liked it."

"You did?"

"Should that even be a question?" He scoffs, smiling at you. His thumb brushes gently across your cheek, the softness of your skin shooting goosebumps up his arm. "Of course, I liked it. Why wouldn't I have liked it?" His gaze lingers on your mouth. "Come closer and kiss me again, please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

It's with a smile on both of your lips that you lean in and press your mouth to his. His lips are soft and willing, parting to welcome you as you run your tongue against his bottom lip. At every groan he made, you would whimper, and Christian would swallow each of the sweet little sounds. They were his to keep. They were his to remember when you left at the end of the week.

His hand grabs your thigh and pulls you to straddle him, rutting his hips up as you settle on him. "Feel that?" He grabs your ass, squeezing firmly as he pushes you down onto his bulge. You grind your hips against him, your movements slow and torturous. "That's it, baby," he bites his bottom lip, groaning your praise and grabbing your ass in both hands, "keep grinding like that for me - make us both feel good."

Your lips roam his jaw and neck, imprinting your whimpers into his skin. "I guess the bets off then?" Your laugh is sultry and yet still sweet.

"Bet or no bet, I would still love to eat your pussy," he purrs, flipping you onto your back, "can I take this off?" He fingers toy with the hem of your shirt.

"Only if you're taking yours off."

You prop yourself up onto your elbows, watching him sit back on his knees. He grabs the back of his collar and removes his T-shirt with one sharp tug. "Beautiful," you whisper, letting your hands roam freely over his chest. They start at the waistband of his jeans, your fingers stroking over the soft trail of hair, before travelling over his naval and feeling every muscle.

Christian was right; you did like him better with no shirt on.

Your eyes pan back down to the bulge in his jeans. "Can I taste you?" You ask, looking back up at him as his hand nestles firmly on the base of your skull.

"Go ahead," he nods, with excitement in his voice, "take it out."

Your eyes shimmer with anticipation as you take a better look at the tent in his boxers, his jeans pulled low enough down. Peeling back the waistband, his cock springs free, slapping hard and heavy against his stomach. He was big, bigger than you had remembered, and your face grows hotter as you try to think of a way to fit him all into your mouth.

"It'll fit," Christian says like he could read your mind, "trust me." He wraps his hand around the base, pushing the tip gently against your mouth. "Give it a kiss." You pucker your lips and lay a soft one against the crown of his cock, tasting the pre-cum as you pull away and lick your lips. "Now open your mouth," he instructs, gliding it against your wet tongue, "already being such a good girl for me."

You swirl your tongue over the head, smacking your lips as you pull off him. "Definitely the prettiest dick I've ever had the pleasure of sucking," you tell him, replacing his hand around the base.

"Sucked many dicks?" His face quickly drops. "Don't answer that."

You run your tongue against the underside of his shaft. "Not in a long time," you answer anyway, giggling as he scowls.

You wrap your lips once more around his cock, focusing on the tip, sucking it lazily in and out of your mouth, as your hand worked the base. "Fuck, that feels good," he pants, hanging his head back, exposing the column of his neck and the beard that scattered the underside of his jaw to you. "But I'm gonna have to make you stop."

"What?" You pull off him, a string of spit still connecting you. "Why?"

"Because it's been way too long, longer than I would like to admit since I was last with someone, and if you keep sucking me off like that, this is going to end quicker than it started."

You wipe your mouth. "Oh."

"Yeah," he blushes, tucking himself back into his boxers. He tugs his jeans up but leaves them unbuttoned. "Now," he clears his throat, "wanna help me take your clothes off?"

———————

"Fucking gorgeous!" Christian touch sears your skin, burning his prints into you as he grips your thighs. You pinned to his mattress, with nowhere to go, looking down at a pair of hungry eyes. His tongue splits your folds and draws a line between your entrance and your clit. "This pussy has been a part of my dreams for years," he confesses, turning his head, kissing the inside of your thigh, "god, I think about it-think about you when I'm touching myself."

Your lips part on a silent breath. "You do?"

"Every time, baby." He blows hot hair against your clit, grinning as your squirm. "Every. Single. Damn. Time."

"Good," you giggle, cupping your breast and tweaking your nipple, "because I wasn't lying about nicknaming my vibrator CP."

His cock strains in his jeans at your words. "Don't say that," he growls, rutting his hips into the mattress, "not unless you want to be cleaning the cum off my cock."

You prop yourself up, looking down at him between your thighs. "Sounds tasty," you throw back, licking your lips.

His lips twitch. "Speaking of tasty..." He drags his tongue back and forth along your slit, groaning as your wetness pools in his mouth. You were intoxicating. A drug for him to get high off. "Tastiest thing I've ever eaten, baby," his praise has you throwing your head back into the pillow, "and the prettiest, too."

"Oh, my..."

He pushes the air out of your lungs, stretching you out as he slowly works two fingers into your pussy. They twist and curl up to stroke your g-spot, and you feel him grin against your clit when he wrangles out a pornographic moan. No one had made you feel this good. Not in a very long time.

"Christian," you pant his name, pushing your hips up. He groans, flicking his tongue faster over your clit.

He was playing like an instrument and eating you like were his last meal.

"So fucking tight," he licks his lips, tasting you on him. He twists and scissors his fingers, stretching you some more. "And wet, baby," he purrs, rotating his thumb in circles over your clit. His honey-dipped eyes look up at you, roaming every part of your naked figured. "If you could see the mess you're making - just dripping everywhere."

"I want you to look at me like that all the time," you stare down at him.

"I do." He kneels between your legs, dipping to kiss over the tops of your breasts, the dip at the base of your neck and then your lips. "I look at you like this all the time, baby," he presses his thumb harder to your clit, making you squirm, "I've just gotten good at hiding it." He crashes his mouth against yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste your arousal off his tongue. "I'm gonna grab a condom."

You stop him as he reaches into his bedside cabinet. "I'm on the pill."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you answer, kissing over his stubbled jaw, nipping playfully at his ear, "now lose those jeans, pretty boy." He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his lips curving up with amusement. You give a sharp tug on his belt loop. "I said lose the jeans."

He chuckles, pushing to stand up. "What is this?" He pulls his jeans down, kicking them off as they reach his feet. You bite your lip, eyes zoning in on his cock bulging in his underwear. They were removed next, a smirk gracing his lips. He wraps his hand around his shaft, jerking his wrist a few times, wincing a little when he squeezes the tip. "Think you're in charge here?"

"Maybe."

He shakes his head, brushing his lips against your temple. "That's very cute." He kneels between your legs, tapping his tip against your clit, chuckling as you whimper. There was nothing worse than being teased. "But that's not happening, baby."

He slips the first few inches inside, watching your pussy swallow and clench around him. He waits, giving himself a second to adjust. "Just remember it's been a while, okay?" His cheeks blush, spreading down his neck onto his chest. "Don't be teasing me if I end up coming too quickly."

"Hey, look at me." You reach out to touch his face, your fingers brushing over his jaw. He leans into your touch. "We're in the same boat, remember?"

"But what about all those dates you've been on?"

You shake your head. "The last guy I had sex with was Kal." Sliding your hand between your bodies, you sink the last few inches inside. The feeling of fullness has you losing your breath, but you find it again when Christian leans over to kiss you. "Forget about the timestamp on your last time, and stop worrying about blowing your load too quickly," you talk against his mouth, soothing your hands over his chest, "just be here with me, okay?"

He nods, biting his bottom lip. "I can do that." His head dips and kisses the centre of your chest, hands exploring your thighs and the globes of your ass as he ruts into you. "Fuck," his voice is strained, "you feel...you feel perfect, like you just for me."

"Yes," you whimper, your heart aching as the words hit your ears, "just for you."

He nuzzles his stubble into your cheek. "Say it again."

"Just for you," you repeat, now grinding your hips up to meet each thrust, "just for you." You pull his head up and crash your lips together, exchanging a kiss like it could been your last. Never had you imagined this is where you would be when you got on the plane four days ago. "You," you managed to make out through a moan, breaking apart, nuzzling your face against his cheek.

He chokes your name on a sob, "I'm not gonna last must longer."

"Let go, Christian," you wrap your legs around his waist, and run your nails down his back, scratching lightly at the muscles that strained, "come for me, baby."

"Inside you?" His rhythm is sloppy and you have to keep grinding against him. "Can I come inside you?" He grabs your hips and clamps them against him, moaning into your shoulder as his whole body shakes above you. "Oh, god," he whines, his cock twitching and pulsing, "I'm coming-I'm..."

Silence.

For the next few seconds, Christian is silently mouthing your name against his skin.

You soothe your hands through his hair as he finishes inside you, letting your hands roam over his shoulders and down his back. "You okay?" You whisper, tucking your head to brush a kiss to the side of his head. "Christian?"

"I think I just had an out-of-body experience," he answers, audibly groaning as he pulls out. You giggle, tiredly rolling onto your front, moving with him as he collapses next to you. His arm comes up over his face, hiding his eyes, before ripping away to look at you. He looked worried like he was realising he had done something wrong. "You didn't come?"

You shrug, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's fine." Which it was.

"No, it's not." He tries to sit up but crashes back onto the mattress. "When I have recovered, you are coming," he declares, pulling the pillow over his face. His voice is muffled as he adds, "we are not leaving this bed until I've made you come."

———————

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