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peachypinkygloss · 1 year

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wicked obsession — pjm

You don't like Jimin; you two are nothing alike. He's the campus' infamous fuck boy while you're studious, never stepping foot into parties. It's certainly not a good thing when he grows an obsession over you.

★ pairing: fuck boy!jimin x sub/fem!reader

☆ genre: university au, friends with benefits, smut

★ word count: 8.2k

☆ warnings: dub-con, non-con to a certain extent, take of pictures and videos without consent, threats toward the reader, hard dom jimin <3 (he's pretty soft in this one but still), he's evil and hot, reader's kind of a pervert too if we think about it long enough, pillow humping (f), masturbation (m), unprotected sex, no penetration because it's not a necessity 😌👍🏻, praising & brief degradation, dry humping, grinding, facial, cum eating, cunnilingus & fingering, squirting, jimin's a munch.

a.n.: this is a gift for myself since i crave jimin really, really badly. again, be mature and read the warnings! it's your job to avoid the content you don't like, not mine! 😉

playing: Filme moi

Please reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic get more visibility :)

He's looking at you like a predator, narrowing his eyes and passing his index finger over his plump bottom lip. The only thing you can do is pretend to not see him staring intently at you and work harder on your assignment. If only you could do those things without anxiously glaring up at him and immediately breaking eye contact when he's already looking at you.

He doesn't even engage in the conversation with your group of friends and for some reason nobody has noticed how Jimin is ogling at you.

Why is he suddenly interested in you? Why!?

He knows how much you disapprove of his lifestyle. He doesn't care about his studies, he submits assignments days after the due date because why should he bother about the date when he'll get an A anyway. He puts no effort while you spend days on your homework and it angers you a lot.

Jimin is infamously known for his never ending libido, fucking everything that has two legs, two arms and a pussy. Infamously known to be a fuck boy simply because he breaks every women's heart without a care in the world. He may flash a smile while telling them they were a good hook up and that's it.

And that's why you're in big trouble because Park Jimin can't be obsessed with you.

As you finish typing your sentence on your keyboard, pressing on enter to change paragraphs, you look up. Mainly because you want to distract yourself a little bit from your work, but also because you can still feel his eyes boring into your skull.

Then, you see his black orbs looking straight in front of him where you're sitting while he's leaning against the chair's back, spreading his legs apart. You're surprisingly brave enough to hold eye contact this time, shivers running down your spine when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

What did you do for him to stare at you like you're a piece of meat?

It's like he's trying to send you a message, one that would offend you, make you raise your eyebrows in total astonishment and probably stop your heart from beating. Even though you can't decipher his message, you can understand it. Something nasty, so filthy that the devil himself wouldn't approve of.

He tilts his head downward and looks at you through hooded eyes. You have to swallow to not choke on your spit as his gaze destabilizes you so much you can't even process what's happening around you.

Jimin seems to like that, enjoying how weak you are, how you crumble apart just from holding eye contact with him. He smirks, following each one of your movements with his devious eyes.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your computer's screen, but you can't. He's distracting you and it really annoys you. Why can't he mind his own business?

"Class at ten, gonna go to my locker," one of your friends announces, Taehyung, while getting up from his seat.

Priya, also one of your friends, copies Taehyung's actions, standing up on her feet as well. "Oh, yes! I forgot my lip balm in my locker, I'm coming with you," she smiles at him, putting the straps of her tote bag over her right shoulder.

It's how the table you were hanging at slowly empties, and you let out the breath you were holding when Jimin decides to follow Seokjin and Jungkook to the cafeteria to buy some snacks before class. You're left alone at your request, telling Priya and the other girls that you're going to work extra minutes on your essay before joining them.

You wrote four pages already, only ten more and you'll be done. It's a lot and you're totally discouraged, but that's how university is. You quickly check the time on your phone and start packing your things in your backpack to attend your afternoon class that you share with some of your friends.

You take a seat in the middle beside Priya and you don't miss the glance Jimin sends you when he passes by, going to the back of the class with Jungkook. You're relieved he doesn't sit with you, even though it would have been unusual of him, but his sudden interest in you is unusual so you don't know what to expect anymore.

The professor explains the next project, which is a work that you'll have to do in a team of two people. The instructions are pretty simple, something you can do in less than two weeks. You expect to team up with Priya, after all you're the only girls of your group in this class and you two are close friends.

When the teacher is done with the instructions, he lets everyone form their teams. You do the work with Priya, but that is until Jimin makes his appearance.

"Hey, Pri'. You don't mind working with Kookie, right?" He asks your friend and she looks at him curiously, her eyebrows raising up on her face. You, on the other hand, are very confused, opening your mouth to protest until Priya responds with a joyful smile.

"Oh! No, not at all! You two are doing it together? How nice," she giggles, turning her head to look at you. She takes her books in her arms and walks to Jungkook without thinking twice about it.

Jimin steps aside to let her go, watching her sitting beside Jungkook with an undying smile plastered on her face. Your heart starts beating extremely fast as he takes place next to you, acting as if he just didn't decide to work with you without your consent.

"What are you doing! I never said I'd team up with you!" You whisper-shout at him, not wanting anyone to hear you complaining.

He checks the papers the teacher gave you earlier about the project's instructions with the evaluation grid, still pretending the situation is completely normal. "Well, I wanted to and you'll work better with me than with Priya, don't you think?" He turns his head in your direction and his expression is serious. He's genuinely asking you this question.

You shrug, frowning even more. "This wasn't for you to decide," you clench your fists on the table, so frustrated that Jimin thinks it's okay to make decisions for you. You're not even close friends, it doesn't make sense. "I prefer working alone if it's like that," you say, rising up from your seat, but the murderous glare he sends you petrifies you on the spot.

"Sit down," he commands severely and you do as he says, fearing him. He eyes you for a few seconds, making sure you won't try to leave him again. When you stay silent, he reports his attention on the project.

You don't say anything else, listening to Jimin's words distractedly, still baffled by what just happened. Students exit the class, others stay, and he offers to go work at the library.

There, you engage in the project with Jimin. You're pleasantly surprised to see that he's really focusing, sharing his ideas and opinions. You suppose he's only hardworking because the result doesn't solely rely on him. You know he's smart, but he prefers to spend his energy on partying instead of on his studies.

An hour passes and you're now working on your own, asking each other's opinion on things you wrote. You eventually forget how he typically forced you to work with him, but you still have this reluctance toward him, this feeling of repugnance.

Jimin isn't disgusting by any means, he's super hot and he knows he is. You might even be attracted to him, no need to deny it when he's so sexy he makes every girl's pussy mewl. But you know better than to act on your sexual desires, especially when they concern a guy as perverted as Jimin.

"Mmh," he seems to be thinking, but you feel like he already knows what he's going to say. "I forgot something at my dorm," he adds, not levelling his gaze from his sheet of paper.

You look at him, confused on why he doesn't explain further, as if it isn't important. "What is it?" You question him and that's when he raises his head, his gaze meeting yours.

His expression is painfully serious, and by now, you can easily recognize that it's a façade. You don't know what he's hiding, but you're sure of one thing; behind those beautiful almond shaped eyes, kindness doesn't reside there.

His eyes pierce through you, watching - observing your person. Jimin does this often, not answering until you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. You have no clue on what he's trying to do, maybe see how vulnerable you are, how quickly you can break under the mischievous glint of his eyes.

"My charger."

You wouldn't know if Jimin is a liar because everything he says seems believable, the confidence he radiates just tells everyone how trustworthy this man is. But you look over the table where his phone lays down and the screen lights up as he just received a text. His battery is half full.

He takes his iPhone back into his hand, shoving it in his jeans' front pocket as he stands up from his chair. He tidies his stuff back into his pencil case then into his JanSport backpack, but he stops to look at you when you don't do the same thing. "Aren't you coming with me?" Again, his question is asked with a serious tone, as if following him to his dorm is the normal thing to do.

"I thought we'll just leave it there for today," you confess in a small voice, looking up at him from your seat. Your grip on your pencil tightens when his gaze flicks between your face and your breasts. You despise how he doesn't even hide it.

"No," he breathes out calmly, tilting his head to the side. "We'll continue it at my place, we can't stop now, we're doing so well," he smiles and like the unbothered person that he is, he pulls on your pen. It slips out of your hold and Jimin drops it off in your pencil case. "I really want to do this right this time."

And like that, the conversation is closed. You have no choice but to follow him somewhere you've never been before, somewhere you know he won't hold himself back.

Jimin is guiding you with his soft voice, his hand placed on the small of your back, brushing his fingers adorned with rings across your naked body. You are sobbing out, feeling dirty, but the tingle between your legs is so good.

His lips are close to your ear, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a devilish smile. "Look at you, sweet thing... enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He whispers into your ear, doing slow circular motions with his hand on your back to soothe you.

You are humping his white pillow, rubbing your pussy frantically against the soft cotton material. Jimin is watching you closely, his smirk never leaving his plush lips. If someone is enjoying it the most, it's him. He likes seeing you losing your dignity bit by bit, and that, only because he asked you to.

The hair on the nape of your neck is wet and you have to tuck his pillow upwards regularly, this one falling down from your weak grip. Jimin doesn't bother to give you a hand, liking the way you are struggling to rut your hips against the soiled pillow, so eager to finally have your release.

For him, it's okay. Making you submit, ripping the last bit of confidence you had in you, forcing you to do things you find wrong. 'It's natural, after all', he said. 'Your body needs it, you can't keep denying your sexual desires for the rest of your life'. He is right about one point; your body needs it, but not you. It's where he fails to understand.

"See, I knew you would like it... I knew you'd like to rub that little pussy on a pillow," he purrs into your ear, smiling even more when a whine confirms his words. "Don't forget to look at the camera, sweetie," he pats your hair and you raise your head, frowning when you see yourself on his phone's screen.

It's placed on his desk chair in front of his bed, levelled on his chemistry books. When you think about it, the chair was already there, facing the bed, as you entered his room earlier. He had set up everything in advance and the thought itself makes you shudder so deeply that your members shake beside you.

"Jimin-!" You gasp out, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening. You grind your hips harder and faster on the pillow, the same he's sleeping on each night, and feel yourself trembling in anticipation of your orgasm.

At the small call of his name, his face softens, his lips in an exaggerated pout. He takes pity on you, nothing more, just pity because you're so pathetic and weak trying to make yourself cum by humping his pillow.

"I know, baby," he coos, caressing your back, the cool silver of his rings brushing against your burning skin. His other hand gropes your breasts, strong veins pulsing out along his arm. He fumbles the flesh of your boobs, teasing your perky nipples with his palm. "Just let it go..."

You rub your clit against Jimin's pillow, twisting the fabric between your fingers, moving your hips frantically until your orgasm hits you. Jimin looks at you in awe, he has a wicked curiosity to watch you shake in pleasure - a pleasure you didn't ask for. He loves the tears that run down your chubby cheeks, loves that despite everything, you still like this.

You whine as you drive off your high, soiling the pillow with your juices and cum. Jimin lets out a groan, pulling the cushion away from your drenched cunt. "You did such a good job, baby," he praises you and passes an arm around your waist, bringing you against him. "What a sweet girl, so obedient, and just for me."

His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip, making you fall underneath him on the mattress. You moan softly, feeling your pussy quivering, asking more than just a clitoral orgasm.

Jimin settles between your legs, pampering your neck in sloppy kisses, discovering your body with his pillowy and plump pink lips. He hesitates to mark you, to leave love bites all over your skin, but he refrains himself from it. Not yet.

Your hair is spread all over his bed, your beautiful tits displayed for him. He places a hand above your shoulder on the mattress to support his weight, the other holding your thigh that is locked behind his back. He lowers his head toward your breasts and positions himself better, bending his elbow beside your arm instead of leaving his hand next to your head.

His hot breath hits your nipples, making them even harder. He wraps his plushy lips around one, suckling on it avidly, leaving you panting heavily. Your face is hot, the entire room feels hot, and you think you might melt down under Jimin.

He licks your supple flesh, feeling the lines of your stretch marks under his pink muscle. He plays with the other that is left out by his mouth, pinching and pulling on your little bud. Quickly, your boobs are glistening in his spit, a beautiful sight he wants to reproduce every time he's with you.

"Jiminie..." You moan his name, arching your back as he bites gently on your nipple, flattening his tongue over it after as if to apologize for the pain. You're like a little doll for Jimin to play with, to love and care for.

He's acting awfully sweet as he rips the pureness out of you, sucking fervently on your nipples that you feel your stomach clench. It's a mix of discomfort and pleasure, making you feel weird, but also giving your core tingles you've never experienced before.

His crotch presses against your wet pussy and he slowly grinds his hips, making you aware of his hard cock trapped in his jeans. He detaches his lips from around your nipple and your breast bounces down to the side after. Jimin finds his spot in the crook of your neck again, still grinding his hips against yours.

He lets out a guttural moan from his throat and your pussy clenches around nothing but air. You have to admit that you don't really know what's happening, too drunk on the hormones both of your bodies are releasing. The rutting of Jimin's hips is pleasuring you, stimulating your clit perfectly, but that's not what you wanted, is it?

"Mmh, fuck," he curses, nuzzling your neck and giving you little kisses that want to be reassuring. "I'm so fucking horny, I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea," he presses his bulge harder on you, wanting to feel more friction, but his clothes are restraining him too much.

He looks you in the eye, catching every little moan that escapes your lips, accompanying his grunts and the noise of his bed creaking. He breathes onto your face as he painfully grinds his hips against yours. Maybe you would like him to penetrate you and fuck you until you can't feel any of your limbs, or until he ejaculates deep into you, stuffing you full of his seeds.

Maybe you would like it, maybe you would consider it.

He breaks eye contact as he sits back on his knees, glancing at your messy cunt, quivering helplessly. He grips the back of his white t-shirt with his two hands, pulling on the collar to pass it over his head. He throws it away on the floor where your clothes are as well, revealing to you his beautiful chest.

He has a tattoo on his rib cage, the word nevermind spelled in uppercase inked on his pale skin. His abs are well defined and his nipples are in a shade of dark pink. You can see the muscles of his biceps and he has a trail of hair under his belly button, going to his pelvis. Jimin looks dreamy, it's a shame that he has such a nasty reputation.

He unbuckles his belt, the clanking sound making your stomach flutter, pussy impatiently waiting for him and what he has to deliver. He doesn't stop looking at you as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them while your eyes immediately lower to his crotch. Under these boxers, there's a huge bulge, and you imagine a thick cock, average length but unreal girth.

"Do you want to see my cock, sweetie?" He asks you in a gentle voice, a smile on his lips, but there is no mockery behind it. Though he's asking, he's not really waiting for your consent. He doesn't need it, not at the point where you are. "Aren't you a little bit curious?" His right hand comes to caress his hard on over his boxers, veiny hand gripping it and palming it.

You don't respond, mostly because you don't know what to say. You glimpse in the direction of the chair where his phone is settled down, seeing Jimin's body hovering over yours. He looks so imposing, dominating, and for some reason this sends a wave of heat between your legs.

You look back at him and you swallow, wondering if all of this talk is to make a show for the camera. You know he knows how much it disturbs you, but it seems like it doesn't bother him. It spurs him on even more, watching your face contort in discomfort and fear, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground.

But he also knows that despite those negative feelings, you like this situation very, very much. Your body betrays your emotions; pussy leaking down your ass, wetness sticking to your inner thighs, nipples hard and pupils dilated.

He bites down on his bottom lip, passing his thumbs under the band of his briefs. Your heart accelerates, mind going crazy at the fact of seeing Jimin's dick just in front of you, centimetres away from your crotch.

"So excited to see me... You're going to like it, baby, believe me," he chuckles, lingering his eyes over your naked body, noticing the goosebumps running along your skin and making your hair stand up on your arms.

You almost whimper when he tucks the band of his boxers down, setting his cock free from its confines. It twitches twice before standing up proud against his pale stomach, pink tip glistening from pre-cum under the light of his bedroom.

You were right; Jimin is girthy, not super long and unshaved, but his head reaches a few inches under his belly button. He's really thick, and with what you've already seen in your life, you know his dick can't enter without forcing the entry a little bit. And this is not good, really not good. Not to mention the size of his balls that will surely leave bruises on your ass.

You're not sure if you like it.

You back away on the bed, trying to escape Jimin, but he's fast at gripping your thighs and pushing you back over to him. A laugh doesn't miss to leave his mouth, finding you silly for trying to run away from him when really, there's no way of getting away.

"It's okay, little thing. No need to fight..." His gaze lowers down to his dick where he takes it in his hand, angling it toward your pussy. "It's going to happen whether you want it or not," his last words end up in a whisper, too focused on swiping his tip through your folds to speak louder.

Your walls clench around nothing and you curse yourself for it, knowing that Jimin probably saw it. You whine when you feel him rubbing his mushroom head against your clit, his cock now covered in your wetness. He teases your hole, circling it slowly, collecting more of your arousal on his length.

Then, he pushes his head in slightly, testing how your pussy adjusts itself to the size of his thick cock. You wince as he pushes in over and over again, never putting more than the tip.

"Please, stop- Jimin, it's too much," you shake under him and throw your arms over his shoulders, this simple action making him actually reconsider what he's doing. "I can't take it..."

His eyes shift up to your face, not saying anything yet, observing if you're bluffing or not. If he's a good liar, then you're a bad one. He sighs, replacing his hands on each side of your head. "Don't worry," he promises, his lips brushing the side of your face, his breath tickling your burning cheek.

He glides his cock over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips apart and covering his erection in your juices. His girth stimulates your bud of nerves just the way you need it to feel the knot in your tummy tightening again. You're still sensitive, but it feels good. It's dirty, having your cum dripping down your hole, having Jimin's dick sliding up and down your drenched pussy, mixing his pre-cum to your own arousal.

Dirty, but great, oh, so great.

The zippers of his jeans sting the skin of your thighs as he grinds his cock over your clit non-stop, making you whine and moan, in pleasure or in pain, whatever it is you don't care anymore. It's slow and somehow sensual at first, Jimin moaning himself while driving his erection through your folds.

He gives you small kisses all over your face and while he does so, you can't believe that this is the same man that you used to say you hated so much. Each kiss is warm and soft, on your cheekbones, on your forehead or on the corner of your mouth, you love them all. You could forget about his phone filming your intercourse, you could forget about how he forced you to team up with you, you could forget about everything just by the delicate touch of his plump lips on your skin.

Each roll of his hips seems painful with the way he hisses and twists the bedsheets between his fists, very weak strings holding him back from fucking his cock into your pussy. You don't understand why he respects your boundaries now, but you won't complain.

"Mmh, a-ah, fuck..." You can't get over the fact how his voice sounds so angelic, so pure, and yet, he's doing that to you. Even his deepest moans are honeyed, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly as he growls into your ear.

He fastens the cadence of his hips before stopping, as if he'd have broken down to his real urges if he had continued.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'll have to cum on your face," he informs you, his wet cock leaving your pussy. "And I want some souvenirs..." He smiles deviously, getting up on his knees to stand over your chest.

You watch him pump himself lazily, his cock hovering over your face, mouth hanging open to catch your breath. He frowns and lets out a guttural moan, looking at your poor figure laying helplessly under him. He wets his lips and directs the tip of his cock to your mouth. You close it and he takes the opportunity to pass his head over your lips, smearing your own cum on them.

He tilts his head to the side, smiling as he glances at you with such a sick curiosity. "Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, baby? Hmm?" His eyes glint in mischievousness, so turned on to use you how he pleases, how he always wanted it. "Tastes good, doesn't it? Couldn't get enough even if you wanted to..." It doesn't have much of a flavour, you think, but Jimin seems to really like it.

He decides to jerk himself off just above your face and you clench your thighs, watching in awe how his hand grips tightly his erect penis and how his palm runs up and down smoothly around it. There's something about not being able to move, trapped under Jimin, that has your clit throbbing furiously.

Maybe it's something about him pleasuring himself shamelessly, spurts of your arousal splashing around as he fucks his fist, or something about his soft but deep moans he lets out from time to time, staring at you intently as you're the one making him so horny right now.

He passes a hand through his black hair, his bangs wet from his sweat. He twists his wrist, focusing on his swollen tip before stroking his whole length. "Ah, shit," he sounds really sensitive, sucking air through his teeth. "Gonna cum," he announces rapidly, fastening the pace of his palm.

The veins on his arm are producing, and you're amazed at how many there are. His rings shine as the light makes them glint each time he comes up to his mushroom head.

You open your mouth by instinct, flattening your tongue on your chin, which makes Jimin groans angrily. "Aah, what a good fucking slut," he angles his dick toward your face, long strands of white cum landing on your face as he moans out loudly. "Oh, God..." He mutters under his breath, spilling his creamy cum across your face.

It doesn't go as planned, his seeds leak down on your nose and forehead in a long trail rather than on your tongue and lips. You close one eye because some of his cum drips down on it, keeping the other open. He fucks himself dry, little white beads spilling out of his tip to fall on your cheeks.

"Mmh, fuck, so pretty..." Jimin's eyes linger on your face, stroking himself distractedly as his cock softens in his hand. You retract your tongue back in your mouth, watching him pick up his phone from the chair.

He stops the recording and goes to take a photo vertically, cupping your chin to make you face the camera correctly. He smiles behind his phone, thumb hovering over the button. You hear the capturing sound two times before he's starting another recording.

He lets go of your chin to collect his cum on his fingers that was dripping down to your eye, bringing his digits to your lips. You can then open your eyelid, parting your lips slightly for him to insert his index and middle finger in. You lick them clean, tasting him on your tongue. It's salty, but nothing really repulsive as you thought it would be.

He pulls out of your mouth, giving your cheek a slight slap. You feel the wetness of your saliva on it. Jimin throws his phone away on his bed when he's finished with the video, stuffing himself back into his jeans. He gets up from you and helps you wipe the remains of his cum on your face.

You don't move until he dresses you in one of his t-shirts, your body completely drowned in it. You go pee and when you get out of the bathroom, he envelops you in his strong arms, bringing you back to bed.

He hugs you tightly against his naked chest, laying his head on your chest in a really intimate manner. "You won't tell anyone? Please," you whisper and he elevates his head from you, looking at you with a serious expression.

He answers nothing, instead he lays on his side and pulls you closer. He strokes your hair gently as you listen to his heartbeat, mind empty. You fall asleep eventually, only to wake up the next day, leaving in a hurry to your own dorm to prepare yourself for another day of university.

You are sitting on a bench in the university's baseball field, doing homework once again. Jimin is always glancing at you from where he is on the field, throwing the ball at Taehyung for him to hit with the bat he's holding.

Taehyung and Jungkook are changing places regularly, one or the other being the hitter. Seokjin is monitoring the two youngest, giving them tips or correcting the way they are positioned since he's the most experienced, being the baseball team's captain.

Priya is beside you, glued to her phone, probably texting Namjoon, the guy she's seeing at the moment. A gym addict, you remember her telling you and also apparently Seokjin's good friend from another campus.

Even though you're focused on your work, you still feel Jimin's eyes on you and it scares you to think that he might have told everyone about you two. He didn't because no one has addressed it, but there's a doubt, a little voice in your head telling you that he didn't respect your wish to keep it a secret.

If your friends know it, your parents, even the whole school... you have no idea how you will manage it. It doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but you just don't want this kind of information to follow you for life. Jimin isn't the type of guy you want to be associated with.

Despite the sweet nicknames he calls you, his devilish smile that makes butterflies erupt in your tummy, his insanely pretty face, his soft voice that makes you shiver, his plump pink lips browsing your skin, his beautiful hands gripping your thighs, his hot cum painting your face, how he's so gentle but has the evilest intentions at the same time.

Despite all of those things, you don't want him. You really don't. But he does.

The time passes as the boys' laughters fill the air, the positions changing; Priya talking with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jungkook bickering, Jimin making fun of them and glancing your way when his attention drifts off of his friends.

You sigh when you have to get back to your dorm by yourself, your unfaithful friend too swamped by a boy to realize you're still there. You collect your things, laptop in its cushioned case and notes back into its assigned binder.

You think you can sneak out of the baseball field without anyone noticing, but you're so wrong to even assume he doesn't have his eyes set on you.

Outside the field, you stop walking when a familiar voice calls you. "Where are you going?" You turn around, only to be met with, evidently, Jimin.

You shrug, glimpsing behind you where the university's building is. "To the dorms..." You answer, not too sure why you sound hesitant. It's not like you need his permission to go back to your room. It's late at night anyway, and you don't want to get bit by mosquitoes.

He closes the distance between you two, stepping ever so slowly, as if to tease you, to chase you. No need to go faster, he knows you'll stay there, frozen on the spot.

"You can go back with the others," you say, frowning as you want him to leave you alone. You don't voice this wish, though and you're lucky you don't because he doesn't like being rejected, especially by you.

His gaze darkens as he narrows his eyes at you and you're scared for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk. "No, I'm coming with you," he decides and you know this isn't a proposition, it's a statement.

But you're not okay with this. So you back away slightly, still facing him, breath quickening. He notices your reluctance and he frowns, a scowl on his face. You keep moving back and he keeps moving forward, that is until you have enough and run in the university's direction.

Your sudden move takes Jimin by surprise and you hear him calling your name, clearly annoyed with you. He asks himself if he should run after you because if he does people will see him and that's not something he wants. But he knows you're going to the dorms, so he just has to arrive there before you do.

You soon make your way to the university residence building, relieved Jimin didn't follow you. You thought he would have, but it seems like he didn't want to bother running after you. You nonetheless look behind you from time to time, verifying in case he did in fact follow you, but you don't see him.

A little voice tells you how unfortunate it is that he didn't chase after you. Is it because he doesn't like you anymore? For some twisted reason, this idea disappoints you. Did he realize you weren't as interesting as he thought you would be or does he think you were shitty in bed? That would be quite humiliating and sad.

You liked the attention he gave you.

When you step into the corridor your room is located in, your eyes widen and your heart almost explodes as you see Jimin casually waiting in front of your door. You didn't expect him to be there, how did he even enter without you noticing?

You feel like a poor little bunny who has nowhere to go, damned to be eaten alive by the big, bad wolf slowly approaching its prey. But the difference between you and the bunny is that you're secretly turned on to be tracked down by Jimin.

He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on when he perceives you walking in. His smile doesn't leave his beautiful plump lips, his mischievous eyes scanning your little body from head to toe.

As he reaches you, you finally come out of your torpor. "Jimin," you warn him and he stops, inches away from you. "I'm not... doing this. I don't want to."

He doesn't look convinced at all. Who are you trying to fool now, you or him? It's better not to be him because he's not the kind to give up on something he really wants.

He tilts his head, looking at you curiously, the expression he does when something intrigues him. "Don't act like this now, sweetie," he purrs, closing the gap between you two. Your breath is caught in your throat, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You're trapped between him and the wall. "You wouldn't like to have your pretty body leaked, hm, baby? It wouldn't really be a secret anymore..."

He touches your cheek with his hand, caressing the side of your face with his index finger. You shudder, pressing your books tightly against your chest. "W-What? I thought- I thought..." You stutter out, heart thumping against your rib cage.

"It doesn't matter what you thought, sweet thing." His words come out husky, his hot breath fanning across your face, making goosebumps run all over your skin. "It's okay if you don't want to, but you have to know that there'll be consequences," he almost sings this threat to you as he sounds so angelic and you're more and more scared by him. Scared in a way that makes your clit throb.

He cages you between the wall and him, pressing his body against yours feverishly til it makes him ill. Your two breaths intertwine, mingling together to create a compact atmosphere where it's hard for you to even think straight.

"The videos.... oh, and that pic," he reminds you and the events are quick at coming back into your mind. "Are all saved in my phone, only for me to look at... and believe me, I must have replayed them at least ten times, if not more," he informs you. "And, God, I was so hard just looking at you, baby."

You can't help but clench your thighs, imagining him with his phone in one hand, his cock in the other.

"Jimin," you breathe out quietly, coming out like a whisper, the sound of your voice making him focus on you. He glances down at your face, watching your lips parting to pronounce your next word. "Stop..."

Though he might have been soft before, you rejecting him again when you're clearly turned on makes him mad. He grabs your wrist and you gasp when he pulls you with him, bringing you to his room instead of yours.

You try to free yourself from his grip, but you fail miserably, almost tripping over your feet. Some people look at you weirdly, no one really stops to ask what's going on. He drags you to his door and opens it hurriedly, closing it when you're both inside.

He takes your books and your backpack away from you, putting them on the ground. You observe him in awe, you're completely in shock. He removes his baseball jacket swiftly as well as his shoes and pushes you on his bed. Your body bounces back on the mattress, Jimin crawling up to you like a hungry feline.

Heat floods through your abdomen to your core, setting your whole body on fire while your panties are getting wet as he's about to do whatever he wants to you. You squirm under him, but not because you want to get away - your body is aching to be touched, to be pleasured.

Face to face, he presses his body against yours until there's no gap separating you. He is insistent and you feel like suffocating, but you'll survive, very much so. Jimin is giving you his breath and you're giving him yours.

His t-shirt hangs loosely on him, the ends of the sleeves stopping just over his elbows. Some kisses are placed on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. It tingles sweetly, your stomach doing a flip, butterflies partying in your belly, pussy mewling. You feel everything at once, and intensively.

You don't protest when he removes your crop top, letting your breasts out, nipples hardening from the cold air hitting them. He plays with them for a brief moment, pinching and pulling on the little buds, before lowering down on you. Your mouth hangs open, not expecting him to do that to you.

He pulls your shoes off your feet, letting them fall on the floor beside his bed. He eyes your little white socks, deciding it'd be better if you keep them on. Due to your position and the fact that you're wearing a skirt, Jimin can see your cotton panties from his point of view. He smirks, looking at the wet patch over your cunt.

He passes an arm under your back, pulling the zipper of your skirt down and he rips the material off of you. You gasp at his brutality, but you don't think about it furthermore as he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, sliding it down your legs despite your little whines of embarrassment.

Your femininity is now very exposed to his insatiable eyes, gazing at it like a hungry man. Settled between your legs, he passes them over his shoulders, holding the back of your thighs so they stay open for him.

"Hmm, always so pretty... And it's all for me," he licks his lips, pink tongue peeking through them. He pushes your thighs up against your chest so he has a better access to your cunt, already glistening in your arousal. Only your feet are touching his shoulders, now. You wish for a moment that he was shirtless, and you're too shy to ask him to remove his t-shirt.

Your meaty thighs are squished over your lower stomach and you won't lie that the position is hard to keep. You're not that flexible, and surely not athletic, unlike Jimin. You whimper a little bit, feeling his breath on your wet pussy, making you shiver.

"Hold your legs up for me, sweetie," he softly commands, giving you an appreciative smile when you sneak your hands under your knees. "Good girl," he praises and you can feel your clit pulsating at how badly his words affect you.

He places his arms around your thighs and takes a hold of your hips. The cool metal of his rings brushes against your skin and you notice the chain around his neck dangling, the pendant bumping into the bed covers.

Jimin finally focuses on your cunt and when he blows on it, you can't hold in your moan. He's happy to hear your reactions, loving how you're so sensitive, how your puffy clit begs him to suck on it. But the first thing he does is kiss your inner thighs delicately while caressing your body along your curves with his veiny hands.

Then, his lips get closer to your warmth, impatiently waiting for him. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves and suckles on it, eliciting quiet moans from you. It's gentle and you've never felt better, your fingers are in no comparison to his skillful mouth.

He sucks a bit more and your face contorts in pleasure. You try to glance at Jimin, but your position only allows you to see a fluffy head of black hair buried between your legs. The view is so filthy and you become drunk off his mouth, loving what's happening, barely remembering that he threatened you to leak the videos of you two having sex.

The sucks turn into licks, his wet muscle sliding from your hole up to your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips apart in the process. He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, circling around it, just dipping in slightly enough to make you needy.

Before you can ask for more, he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud, moving his muscle from side to side rapidly. You moan out, feeling delicious tingles in the pit of your stomach. You grip your thighs harder, pussy clenching and begging to be fucked by Jimin's huge dick with such eagerness.

"Oh, my God, Jimin!" Your legs start to shake and his tongue gives you an orgasm, arching your back as he keeps stimulating your clit until you're off your high.

You sense him collecting your cream with his tongue, dipping into your folds. You let go of your thighs, letting them fall by your sides. You try to catch your breath as Jimin is still nuzzled in your pussy as if he's licking the plate after eating his meal, leaving nothing behind.

"Please, s-stop..." You cry out, being overstimulated by him. You attempt to push his head away, but he doesn't nudge a bit. "It's too much."

He looks up at you, leaning on his elbows. "Stop complaining or I'll fuck this pussy with my cock without feeling any pity," he warns you and you give up, but you still whine weakly.

When you think he's finished, he penetrates you with two fingers at once, sliding in so easily with how wet you are. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your own fingers are certainly not as big as Jimin's. They might be small for a man, but in no way that means they're the same size as yours.

"Shh, my sweet baby, it's okay. Relax, you're so tense..." He says, face hovering over your cunt as he slowly pumps his digits into you. He keeps them straight the first few strokes, but he starts to scissor your insides as well. You feel your pussy expanding around his fingers, it's a really unfamiliar sensation, but since it's Jimin, you slowly chill down.

He hooks his fingers perfectly inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. The overstimulation is replaced by this new pleasure, much more intense and significant than the other. He expertly moves his two digits at a regular pace, holding your thigh up with his free hand.

Your juices are dripping down your ass, the feeling kind of uncomfortable, but Jimin fingering you makes you forget about everything around you except for him.

His palm is facing up, colliding with your clit each time he's knuckles deep into your messy cunt. He hums pleasantly when he feels you clench around him, seeing that you're having a good time. He lowers his head again and you immediately grasp his hair in your fist when he nips at your sensitive clit.

He flattens his palm since his chin is in the way and instead pets your spot inside of you with the pads of his fingers. It's sweet and almost magical. You feel like he's munching on your pussy, opening and closing his mouth over your clit, tongue viciously licking the little bud. It's slow, it's perfect, it's everything your body needs. That you need.

You let out soft moans, pulling on his black locks, completely in love with his mouth until it leaves you again. You would have complained, despite his warning of earlier, but he literally finger fucks you and it cuts you off instantly from saying anything.

He doesn't miss a beat, constantly rubbing your magic spot, making you lift your back from the mattress. You twist the bedsheets between your fingers, a fire in your belly, growing more and more with Jimin's ministrations.

"What the-!" You never say the end of your sentence, frowning and closing your eyes as you let the pleasure of another orgasm take over you. Jimin never stops, gaze shifting between your face and your pussy regularly to catch your reactions. "Jimin, wha-what's... Oh, God!" You scream, and everything happens so fast.

He pumps his fingers in and a clear liquid floods out of your cunt, in droplets first, but then bigger. You don't see what's happening, but an intense pleasure rips through you and your body is shaking like a leaf.

"Oh, fuck," you hear Jimin cursing, almost moaning after. His rhythm slows down, more fluid coming out. "You're such a girl good, shit, it's so fucking hot," he growls and stops his movements, hand cupping your cunt, patting it gently.

There's a wet puddle under your ass and you blink several times, coming back to Earth, feeling totally knocked out. "Jiminie..." You whine out, looking down at him.

The front of his t-shirt is soaked and some droplets fall from his chin. Immediately, you feel your cheeks heating up, so embarrassed from what you did. You squirted all over him to the point of wetting his clothes. But he looks nowhere disgusted, rather turned on than anything else.

He laughs, though it's not to mock you at all. He's just so happy, so fucking in love.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize shyly, but Jimin shakes his head, crawling back up to you.

"No, baby, no..." He coos, pampering your cheeks and forehead in feathery kisses. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It felt good, am I right?" He asks and you nod, feeling particularly ashamed. "Of course it was, I should have filmed it... Well, maybe next time," he sighs contentedly, smiling adorably.

He kisses you on the lips and after that intense orgasm, you start to feel guilty. Embarrassed, ashamed. Not because you stained his t-shirt, but because you liked it. A lot.

It makes you want to repeat it solely with Jimin. Forever and ever. But you can't, not again, not after you told yourself you wouldn't.

For Jimin, it was everything he's ever wanted in his life. You and him in the same bed, having sex, enjoying yourselves. It couldn't be better, really. He'll do anything it takes to keep you with him and believe him when he tells you there's going to be a next time.

Nothing will stop him from having what he wants, not even you.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jimin drabble #jimin imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #bts x reader

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acescavern · 3 months

Text

SAN, WHERE ARE YOU? — CHOI SAN X FEM! READER

Paring: San x Fem!Reader

Genre: Pure smut. No plot whatsoever. There is a sprinkling of fluff if you squint?

wc: 4,825

Synopsis: Your boyfriend invites you to the fancy dress party his frat is holding to celebrate the frats birthday. Only, nobody will tell you what he's dressed as. When you spend half of the party searching for him, Jongho gives away his location.. you're in for a night of fun. One question though, Do you like scary movies?

warnings: smut, smut,smut. Ghostface!San, Velma!reader. Rough sex, unprotected sex, Knife play ( WITHOUT cutting reader. The knife isn't sharp enough for skin), praise, degradation, manhandling, sex in a treehouse, reader's hands get tied, Reader has her view restricted, everything is consented, established relationship, light choking from behind?, reader gets carpet burn. I'm not sure if I've missed something.

note: Hey! it's been a long while. oops. anyway. here, enjoy this badly written San fic! please remember that this is all fiction. This is a little darker than what i've written previously but it's more my vibe ;)

Reblogs are kinder than likes, if you can. Likes can shadowban creators. Any feedback is welcome

You didn't know what you were thinking. For starters, your costume was tight and short. You were sure the Velma outfit looked different online, instead, the material was like a tight second skin that stretched across your chest and the skirt was much shorter than the picture. You were surely careful not to bend or move too much. Your long orange socks weren't meant to be thigh-highs at all. Overall, you'd come to the conclusion that the outfit was more on the verge of a more adult theme that would pass for a party.

You still looked good. In fact, your legs looked amazing in the platform heels Mingi's girlfriend persuaded you into. She claimed that if you'd already gone this far, you may as well go all out. What sold you on the whole outfit was her mentioning that San would go insane and you'd had a knack for winding each other up lately.

So, here you were, at the KQ Frat like every other Friday night. Only this time, it was a special party. The KQ Frat as a whole was turning 5 and they'd let their dearest Song Mingi choose the theme. Okay, maybe he was put on the spot and said 'uhhhm' a lot when he was asked but he eventually stumbled out with the theme of fancy dress.

You pushed the fake glasses up your nose, swearing to yourself at the realization that you could have used your own glasses for this instead of messing around for half an hour trying to put contacts in with shaky hands. You opted to just take them off all together, setting them down on a ledge in the hall. If you had your way, you'd be at home.

Honestly, since you moved in with San things have been a lot better for you both, other than his inability to do the laundry. However, tonight you'd gotten ready at a friend's house and with him being so secretive with his costume, you hadn't a clue what to look for.

The first person you came across was your boyfriend's best friend, Wooyoung. You stifled a laugh, raising your eyebrow at him. “A vampire?” Your fingers ruffled his black and red cape, the material cheap and wrinkled. Wooyoung only rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“It was rushed! San took my costume idea!” He snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Woo’s words came out in a slight lisp, the terrible plastic fangs moving around in his mouth so much that he just ripped them out.

What he said piqued your interest though, an overly friendly smile plastering on your face. “And..what were you going to be, Wooyoungie?” The raised eyebrow look the man gave you had you almost ashamed that you were trying to butter him up to tell you San’s costume. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.

“Don’t ‘Wooyoungie’ me!” His voice raised a pitch as he mocked you, his eyelids rapidly moving to fan his lashes in an imitation of you. “I’m not stupid, ____. San would never let me live it down if I ruined the surprise.”

That was true, Woo was already the brunt of most of the group's jokes. Though lately, they’d dwindled down in public. Anything to help save a crumb of his image in attempts to woo the library girl. You rolled your eyes and lightly whacked his arm, pushing past him with a grumbled goodbye.

The next familiar face you came across nearly took you off your feet, if only it weren't for the person behind you steadying your form. Spiderman and..Chucky? Something about the spiderman felt familiar and as your eyes lit up with hope… they soon dullened when the voice spoke. Yunho. Not San.

“Woah, careful there.” He patted the top of your head in a friendly gesture. Yunho was the most big brother friend you’d ever met and he was the one you went to for comfort whenever you and San fought. He offered the best advice sometimes. It wasn't surprising.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Chucky spoke, adjusting his cap. Except it wasn't Chucky really, it was just Hongjoong, shooting you an apologetic grin. “Have you seen my girl? She’s dressed as the bride of Chucky.” The obvious reveal that he succumbed to the couple's costume agenda had a light blush blossoming at the tips of his ears.

You shook your head, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "Sorry, Joong. Have you seen San?" His reply was the same as yours.

So, you kept moving, pushing through the sweaty bodies grinding together in time with the heavy thudding of music. Eventually, you managed to push through to the kitchen. Huffing out a breath, you leant against the counter. Where was San? There were so many people here, it was more packed than last year especially with the frat's growing reputation. You glanced around the space from the doorway of the kitchen once more, spotting Yeosang, dressed as Link from the zelda games, talking very animatedly with Seonghwa, who you weren't sure of his character but he looked striking in a white ruffled blouse and half corset. You suspected he was some kind of vampire, judging by the vibe.

“You’re looking for San, I take it.” A casual voice piped up from behind you, startling you to whirl around. There stood Jongho, his face half covered by a cut off white mask. He wore a suit, without the jacket. Instead, a long cape with hand painted gold swirls on the inside. He had obviously done it himself. It was certainly the best effort of Phantom of The Opera you'd seen.

“You know where he is?” Desperation laced your tone, you just wanted to see your boyfriend at this point. San had been teasing you all day over text, telling you that you’d love his outfit. That you would go crazy. He told you that he chose it with you in mind.

Jongho gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes looking toward the back patio door. “Maybe, try looking out there.” Your shoulders relaxed, a grin overtaking your painted lips. You were about to set off in that direction when he held up a gloved hand. “You didn’t hear it from me, ____. Okay?”

With an endearing eye roll, you brought your fingers across your mouth in a zipping motion that earned you an approving nod. Now, you set off outside carefully, being mindful of the shoes you were wearing. They were practically stilts to you. Your fingers held down the ends of your skirt, worried it might blow up in the breeze. Even though ninety percent of the party goers were indoors out of the cold. Speaking of cold, goosebumps rose against your exposed skin as you squinted through the darkness.

“San?” You called, rounding the pool to the concrete slabs that paved the way to the tree at the bottom of the yard. “Sannie?”

You hated it down here. The frat house was a huge place. You often wondered how on earth the guys managed to score it. But with eighteen people living there, it was much needed. The thing was, with the big house came the big garden. The bottom of the garden, whilst still kept mowed, was mostly unused. Save for a few sheds.. But it was creepy and always sent a chill up your spine. Though that could be the cemetery on the other side of the fence. All in all, with the massive house the guys were sure was haunted and the cemetery backing onto the place.. It was just spooky all around.

You stood for a moment, a shiver running down your spine as a whisper of wind rushed by your ear. “San, come on.. this isn’t funny..” Silence. “I’m cold..” A rustle sounded to your left, your head snapping in that direction.

You began to tentatively approach, trying to make sure your heels don’t sink into the grass. You bit back a scream at the sudden animal sprinting out from behind the shrubbery, your palm pressed against your heart as it pounded in your chest. Your breath left you as a sharp exhale of relief. You chuckled at yourself, shaking your head as you turned.. Though you didn’t get far.

You turned straight into a broad, hard chest. A small scream left you, the masked man's hands reaching out to grip your hips. The figure was wearing a ghostface mask, something sheathed in his belt glinting in the moonlight. Although, the familiarity in the way his strong hand splayed on your body as he held you, you knew it was him.

San’s Ghostface robe was open, revealing his black jeans and a shirt that stretched across his torso. Your eyes once more caught the glint at his waist. “A real knife? San, are you craz-” He said nothing, only span you around with your back to his chest. One of his hands drifted up your body to cover your mouth, it was then that you noticed the leather gloves as you felt them against your skin.

“You look like a treat, ____.” He hushed in your ear, the plastic of his mask bumping against the side of your face with how close his head was to you. “Now, Velma, you think you can climb that ladder?” he pointed a gloved hand to the tree, the stepped ladder made up of wooden slats fixed together. At least it was sturdy.

You nodded mutedly against his hand, resisting the urge to turn to face him when he let you go completely with a part pat to your behind. “Good girl.” His voice was smooth to the ear, “Off you go.” With a nudge to the small of your back, he urged you on.

It was a slight struggle to climb the ladder with the way you were dressed, but San was close behind you. When you made it to the doorway of the treehouse, you waited for him as you stood on the ladder. San slotted his feet either side of yours on the same ladder rung, his body caging you against it as he produced the keys for the door. The tree house was in regular use by the frat, mostly so the house didn’t smell of weed whenever the landlord decided to randomly drop by for house inspections.

The treehouse itself was very sturdily built, with an old bedroom door that was previously Mingi’s and the hole in the middle fixed over with planks of wood screwed in place. The floor was covered in carpet that used to be in Hongjoong’s room. A few beanbags dotted around the place and for lighting there were battery operated fairy lights strung around the square perimeter. It was a cute little hangout that San had quite literally banished everybody from for tonight.

With the door now open, you were about to climb in when San’s hands landed on your waist again. His strong grip practically hauled you up and into the treehouse. With a noise of surprise, you landed on your stomach, scrambling up on your hands and knees to crawl to one of the beanbags. The door shut behind you, you noted San didn’t bother to lock it.

San was silent. You almost wondered if he even came here with you but when his leather clad fingers curled around your ankle and a low chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “Where are you going, Baby?” His voice was a mocking coo as he pulled you toward him, your body dragging across the carpet causing your skirt to drift up to your waist. “Didn’t you miss me?” His voice sounded close to your ear again now and you felt his presence close to your back but he wasn’t actually touching you.

“Sa-” He interrupted you, his voice completely dropping his act to murmur to you softly. “Do you trust me?” He stayed poised above you, his body weight on his arms so he’s not touching you.

You twisted underneath him, rolling onto your back to stare up at him. Although, you only saw his mask. Your hands reached out, fingers delicately lifting his mask up for you to see his eyes. His lips quirked at the corners when you cupped his cheeks. “I trust you with my life, Sannie.” You arched your neck up your lips pressing the lightest of kisses to his jaw. “You’re doing good. We spoke about this, remember?” Your thumbs grazed small circles on the apples of his cheeks, San’s brown eyes closing as he leaned into your touch.

It was true. You both had spoken about this forever ago, You’d established the limits and words to use if either of you were uncomfortable. The only thing you both hadn’t settled on was when. You both agreed to keep that a surprise and to San, today was perfect. So, with a sure nod, he lightly battered your hands away from his face to pull the mask back down and sink back into character.

You instead began to let your hands wander over his back, the muscles prominent from holding himself up. When they drifted down to his behind, the intent to give him a playful squeeze, your hands froze. San grinned behind the mask, seeing your eyes light up in surprise. He could see the excitement swimming in them and he knew you’d just encountered the feel of the rope tucked into his back pocket beneath the robe. Perfect opportunity. Your boyfriend rose himself to his knees, his right hand disappearing beneath the black material to pull the soft rope from his pocket. It wasn’t too heavy duty. Actually… it was just the craft string that was tied around his christmas present from you.

San was quick and efficient with the way he pinned your hands to the carpet above your head. He paused, his eyes darting around to search for something to fix them to. His gaze landed on the small table next to one of the beanbags, a grin overtaking his features behind the mask once more. Instead of dragging your body across the carpet again, San pulled the table closer threading the twine string around the leg before fastening both of your wrists against it.

You watched him obediently, pretending to struggle at least a little bit. It added to the excitement after all. San let his eyes properly travel over your body and your outfit in the soft glow of the fairy lights. You couldn’t see his facial reactions but it excited you all the more. The adrenaline of the situation had you panting in anticipation. You felt his fingers brush over your ankle once more, ghosting up, up, up… his hand now cupping over your thigh, leathered index finger brushing the edge of your panties. He was taking his sweet time but his other hand was hovering over the handle of the knife at his waistband. Not yet.

The first thing to go was your tight orange shirt. It was roughly pulled over your head just to expose your torso. With your hands tied there was no way to fully remove it but San liked the way it restricted your arms above your head even further.

“Hm,” he made a sound in the back of his throat. “I think we’ll keep this, what do you think?” Even though he had asked you.. his tone suggested there was no room for negotiation, his fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt just once.

You felt him push the material higher to pool at your waist once more. San’s touch was feather light, teasing as he circled it around your navel and down to your waistline. Now was when his free hand curled around the handle of the knife in his belt. Your breathing hitched, body completely still as you felt the cold metal against your collarbone. Your eyes were staring at the ceiling, lips parted. A sound caught in your throat as he dragged it down your body, you could feel that the blade was dull and not sharp enough to actually cut your skin… it was either that or San was pressing very lightly.

“Shh,” He hushed, letting the point of the blade drag across your hardened nipple over the sheer fabric of your bra. “I’ve got you, now.” The point broke through the fabric, San lifting it away from you to slice your bra cup straight through the middle.

His face appeared in your vision and you could only imagine him looking absolutely elated with how glassy your eyes looked. He tutted, “You’ve seen enough, I think.” He set the knife on your sternum as he pulled your shirt down your arms enough to cover the top half of your head, blanking out your vision.

Your body squirmed between his thighs, small sounds of struggle leaving your parted lips. “San, I wanna see you.” You whined, wrists twisting in their binds before you'd remembered they were currently immobile.

“Keep still.” San warned, his tone was far from the soft and loving boyfriend you usually encountered. San was rarely dominant in bed with you, he preferred to lovingly worship your body and praise you with sweet nothings.

This was pleasantly different. His touch was firmer, his grip harsher and his demands had arousal shooting straight through your body. Like the good girlfriend you were, you stilled. San lifted the Ghostface mask up to uncover his mouth, not that you could even see.

Your body flinched in surprise when you felt cool air blow across your exposed nipple. San could only nod to himself in satisfaction. He loved the reactions he could draw from your body without even touching you. He lowered his mouth further, plush lips enveloping the peaked flesh into his warm mouth.

Your hands clenched into fists, longing to dive themselves into his hair. You were totally restricted, completely at San's mercy. The thought alone had a soft moan drifting into the silence. You felt his touch leave you again, the knife's weight leaving your sternum. You felt the material of your bra pull away from you in the middle, the sound of tearing fabric mixing with your breathing.

Your bra was now loose, the cups falling completely to the sides to expose you further. “Hey.” You protested weakly. That bra was expensive.

San could only laugh softly as he dropped a kiss between your breasts. “She finally talks.” He drawled, the feeling of the cold blade starting back at your collarbone once more.

The sharpness of the thin coldness trailed down your middle, a circle made around your belly button before it lifted from your exposed skin only briefly. You felt it again on your waistline, right where your panties sat. San made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat, flattening the blade to firmly tap it against your clothed center.

The feeling had you mewling beneath him, struggling to stay still. The panties were the next thing to go, San pulling the torn fabric from under you after he had successfully cut it away from your body only to drop the arousal coated garment on your chest.

“Please..” Your beg came as a desperate cry, you needed some sort of relief. The wait was killing you.

You were rewarded with San shushing you yet again. “If you're looking for any mercy here, ____, you're out of luck.”

San's left hand pinned your hips down, his other manning the knife. The knife where he had used the flat of the blade to press it to your, now bare, core. You knew you were wet, you could feel it. Hell, you could hear it when the metal was tapped against you again. Your moan raised a pitch, the hand holding your hips moving and allowing your hips to rock dangerously against the flat of the knife.

“I wish you could see yourself, baby.” San's voice deepened, sounding huskier as he watched you. “My girl. So needy to get off, you're rubbing yourself on a kitchen knife.” He tutted. “Pathetic, don't you think?”

You could think of a single coherent thought. Gasps drawing from you as all you could do was nod and cry out when the surface your hips were working against was removed.

You were sure you would remember this night forever… The thrill rushing through your veins. You thought San had gotten up. You thought he left you there for a moment until his fingers dug into your cheeks, palm holding your jaw tight. He squeezed, forcing your mouth to open. “Tongue.”

It was a one-word demand and yet you knew the instruction, your mouth opening wide to poke out your flattened tongue. San's harsh breathing was heard as he very carefully let the knife rest on the pink muscle. More specifically, the side he coated with yourself. You whined once more.

“Clean it.” San encouraged, watching with interest as you followed his every command and collected your own taste. He was so hard it was painful but he wanted to drag this night out… He thought his decision over, curious, lust blown eyes taking in the sight of you.

You, with your skirt bunched at your waist. You, with your orange thigh high socks, your ridiculous shoes, your arms trussed up above your head, your shirt covering half of your face, your ruined bra exposing your chest, your chest where your ripped panties lie. You, with your trust in him to carry out such fantasies. San was done waiting. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

The loud clang of an object being thrown away was harsh to your ears, the object thudding against the carpet. San had thrown the knife far away from you both, his fingers frantically fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper. “I'm done fucking waiting.” He panted sharply, shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to let his cock free.

You wished you could see him, you wished you could see how red the swollen tip of his cock was. You wished you could watch the thick vein along his shaft throb before your eyes… the bead of precum smeared across the head. The image had a zing of pleasure pulsing through your clit.

“San, please.” You begged, “Please. I've been good, right?” You hadn't a clue what you were babbling. Your words tumbled out of your mouth quickly before your brain could filter.

San groaned, “Yes, Baby.” You felt him brush against your entrance. “You have.” In one sharp snap forward of his hips, San sheathed himself into your warm, wet pussy. “F-Fuck..” His grip was back on your body again, maneuvering your legs back by your thighs as he gave you time to adjust to the sheer stretch his cock gave you.

San's big palms spread over the backs of your thighs, opting to just gather your ankles in one hand to push your legs back against your torso. You felt the burn of your thigh muscles at your body being bent this way but your main focus was still trying to relax your tight grip around his cock.

“Relax for me.” San murmured, his free hand settling on your pubic area.. you wondered what the purpose of the hand placement was until his leather-gloved thumb made contact with your clit.

San stayed perfectly still as his thumb moved in slow circles, your body eventually relaxing to the pleasure coursing through you. Your chest rose and fell harshly the faster his thumb moved. San watched you through the mask intently, how your facial features slackened. Small moans of his name bounced off the wooden walls of the treehouse, the fairy lights casting a beautiful glow across your skin that San could look at forever.

San knew you were getting close, he knew your body. He knew that when your teeth sunk into your bottom lip it meant you were on the edge of an orgasm and for a moment he felt bad to rip your peak right away from you by stopping his thumb.

“No, no! San, that's not fair!” Your eyes fluttered harshly to adjust as he lifted the shirt from your eyes. Your legs were let go, dropping each side of his body.

San's fingers skillfully untied the knots of your binds, rubbing at the marks on your wrists for a mere moment. He pulled completely from you, your expression frowning in confusion.

“What are yo–” You were roughly rolled onto your stomach, your body manhandled so you were on your knees and your naked torso was flush to the carpet. “Fuck!” Your curse abruptly escaped you as he entered you once more without warning, San's pelvis flush to your behind.

Your fingers grip on the carpet was torn away when San gathered your arms behind your back, wrists tethered together once more with the twine. “Stay fucking still.” He grunted, a harsh swat of his hand smacking your ass cheek eliciting a long moan from you.

He gave another swat to the other cheek. Matching red hand prints on display. Punishment for trying to lift your head. It didn't matter anymore, San fixed that problem by keeping a hand closed around the back of your neck, the side of your face roughly rubbing against the carpet with each hard thrust of his hips.

San fucked you like a man possessed, not a single break between thrusts. His belt jingled with his rapid movements. “See what you get when you do as you're told for once, hmm?” His voice was broken with his own noises of pleasure.

You weren't much better, your mouth permanently open with screams of his name and the word ‘yes’ repeating on loop. Your brain felt hazy, pleasantly so. You weren't even aware of your volume or even the patch of drool soaking the floor under your mouth. San had never fucked you like this before.

“You're so fucked out you haven't even noticed you're being fucked raw.” The pressure on your neck increased, a garbled noise from you being muffled by the floor.

You barely registered San's free hand fumbling around for something until the light of his phone screen was shoved in front of your face. The camera app. The idea had your thighs trembling. Your face had a far away look to it, one you hardly recognized as yourself. You watched pliantly as San propped the device against the table leg that your hands were previously tied to before hitting the capture a few times.

San could feel you shaking against him, his hips stuttering a moment when you clenched around him. The arm that wasn't holding you down snaked around you, his fingers finding your clit to rub fast, tight circles.

He'd never heard you scream so loud when the orgasm wracked through your body. Toes curling in your heels, nails digging into your palms. The feeling slammed into you abruptly, rippling through your pussy. Anyone outside would think you were being murdered.

San tore the mask off his face, his head tipping back on a long guttural moan. You knew he'd just come inside you, you'd know what that sound meant anywhere. Even if you didn't feel the slow softening of his cock, or the excess come smear on your skin as his thrusts slowed to a stop.

The both of you were panting harshly. San gently patted your waist, letting go of your neck to work on untying your wrists again. “Wow.” You huffed, arms falling limply to the floor with exhaustion. The cool breeze felt nice against your heated, sweat sheened skin.

He hummed in light agreement, his palms coasting up and down your back and sides for a moment before he withdrew from you. San was quick to reach up to the small table for the box of tissues he had brought up here when he prepared the treehouse that morning.

Your boyfriend always prided himself with being gentle with your aftercare. San made sure to clean your abused pussy as best he could in that moment before he gathered your limp body in his arms. “My limbs don't work.” You mumbled, your head resting on his shoulder as San brought you both to one of the big bean bags. His touch was the most gentle it had been all evening, palms trying to rub some warmth and life back into your body.

“Mmh, That was definitely something..” San agreed, draping a blanket over you both.

The two of you sat there in the blissful afterglow for a while. Bodies tangled together, your head against San's shoulder and your fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck and San's own hands lovingly rubbing over your body to soothe you.

After a few minutes, your fingers stopped and San was sure you'd fallen asleep until–

“I have carpet burn on my cheek.”

©️acescavern, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted or translated and reposted. reblogs are accepted.

#Choi San #ateez #acescavern #Ateez smut #ateez fluff #san atz #atz smut #san smut #san x reader #san fanfic #san fluff #san #san ateez #ateez san #choi san smut #choi san x reader #choi san #atz

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kiestrokes · 7 months

Text

astringe | NSFW

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 2516 Genre: smut, porn without plot, friends to lovers. Warnings: artsy undercut Hyunjin from the last month + 2023 VMA's, college, art school, a variety of kissing, handholding, Hyunjin is confident, mentions of a fantasy book featuring a blood mage which is a nod to @chans-room and a lovely fic they are crafting up.

Sexually Explicit Content: consented choking (this is the main focus of this fic DO NOT read if you don't enjoy choking in theory or real life), sexual intercourse (penis in vagina) cowgirl, missionary, some breast play but not really, mutual orgasms. let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: Things get a little tense in the library when your best friend innocently discovers your secret asphyxiation kink. He just wanted a better angle of your neck, but now that he's found it, how could he not toy with you a little?

🗝️ Note: sooo this brain rot had consumed me all of my workday yesterday and was only intensified after that undercut reveal at the VMA's. Hyunjin has been a fucking menace lately and I just needed to yeet this my from my brain. So yea, enjoy 🙏🏼thank you to B for their lovely beta read 🖤

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted in this story.

Read it on Ao3!

You’re tucked away into what is arguably your favorite place on campus- a window alcove nestled between two rows of bookshelves stocked with the full collection of Oxford dictionaries that nobody ever uses anymore. Thanks to the invention of smartphones.

Your best friend, sketching away on the window sill across from you as the sun descends into twilight.

Hyunjin looks every part the troubled artist; a black sweater draped over his broad shoulders, dark hair pulled back nonchalantly, displaying his freshly shaved undercut, silver-rimmed glasses glinting under the fading halogen bulbs, a singular black nail pinching a bit of oil crayon as it glides across the thick paper of his sketchbook and rambling about how he needs to work on specific body parts more.

You’re immersed in your fantasy novel, humming along, without the notion that you are his current subject or what he is saying at this point. The handsome blood mage has captured the warrior princess and is taking her back to his-

Hyunjin’s hands are suddenly around your throat and your brain doesn't have time to stop the strangled moan that leaves your lips. Your book topples to the carpeted floor with a soft thud, announcing the loss of your place. You regain enough awareness to fight off your body's natural response to this type of touch. How you want to close your eyes, to sink into the hand cupping your neck, and relinquish control.

Hyunjin’s observant gaze catches it and a mischievous smirk marks his beautiful lips. Slowly he begins to toy with your neck, turning you at angles with a slight flex of his fingers and jut of his thumb into your jawbone. Pretending to sketch the slopes and hollows of your throat, his interest already elsewhere. He grasps the column suddenly and your spine snaps arching your chest forward with a moan, your own hands clawing helplessly at the denim of your pants.

“Shhh, you don’t want anyone to hear you.” His tongue toys with his top lip as he strokes your throat firmly with his thumb.

“Hyun-”

Hyunjin squeezes again, his gaze cutting to yours, the intensity of his eyes causing a whine to get caught in your chest.

He abandons the sketchbook and slips up next to you, his large thigh pressing into yours. His arm comes to rest between your breasts, rising and falling with your rapid breathing.

“Does this turn you on?”

You nod subtly. Head kicking back as he gifts you with another squeeze for answering his question honestly, biting your lip hard to keep all sounds locked behind your teeth.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” He looks at you from under his brow, smiling almost wickedly.

Your lip slips from your teeth and a whimper escapes, Hyunjin rewards you with a firm press to the sides of your neck. You can feel your pulse thrumming against the tips of his fingers, and your eyes close in an attempt to calm your breathing.

“Do you want me?” Hyunjin’s cool breath fans across your lashes.

“Yes,” You whisper.

Hyunjin’s hand slips up to cup your jaw, his thumb caressing your lip before tugging it down. Your eyes snap open to find his gaze focused on his hand, and your lips. Then he's standing suddenly, like nothing had just occurred between the two of you. Calmly collecting his things, and slipping them into his bag along with your book he retrieves from the floor.

Not a word is spoken until he looks down at you expectantly, “Let's go then.”

You stand up shakily and Hyunjin wraps your hand in his, tucking you into his side and turning the two of you toward the exit. Hyunjin smiles politely at the librarians as they wave goodbye on your way out. His other fingers interlocked with yours as he guides you toward the elevators.

Hyunjin had lucked out in having a solo artist suite above the library, your second favorite place on campus.

Inside the elevator, you watch him in the tin reflection. Hyunjin smirks back at you, slipping your hand into the pocket of his baggy pants, and pressing the tips of your fingers into his erection. You gasp and turn to look at him, but he’s already watching you. An unspoken acknowledgment that he wants you too.

Hyunjin’s eyes only intensified behind the magnification of his circular glasses. With all the metal surrounding you, you’re all too aware of the charged energy behind Hyunjin’s gaze. As if you were to reach out and touch the wall of the rattling lift, you would be electrocuted.

The elevator dings and you tear your eyes away from him. Hyunjin removes your hand from his pocket and pulls you out of the elevator, toward his room. He punches the code in with his free hand and gestures you inside, finally releasing your hand from his firm grasp. Inside, the room is the same as it always is; dimly lit by a single lamp by the bed, bathing everything in a buttery glow that softens the sharp edges of Hyunjin’s drawing desk and stacks of sketchbooks.

You slip your sandals off and pad unsurely over to the bed, toes pinching into the soft checkered rug at the foot of his bed. The heat of Hyunjin’s body alerts you that he has moved on from removing his shoes and hanging up his bag at the door.

You tilt your head to look up at him, just as his eyes meet yours his hand is on your throat again, stroking up before spreading firmly across your larynx.

Hyunjin’s lip's part when you press into his hand, asking for more, consenting to be choked. His lashes flutter in a soft laugh when you moan at the squeeze he bestows. He presses his front to your back, his other hand slipping under your sweater, across the soft skin of your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“What a lovely little secret you kept from your best friend,” His lips ghost yours as he squeezes again, a groan erupting from your throat.

Hyunjin breathes a laugh as he shuffles you over to the bed, the front of his thighs pressing into the backs of yours as if you are a doll, marionetting you exactly where he wants.

Your knees bump into the end of the bed and Hyunjin’s hand slips from your throat, turning you around to face him and tossing you down on your back with a soft push. Your hands fist the soft gray fleece of his bedding, anchoring yourself to something, solidifying yourself in this moment.

He wastes no time ridding himself of his clothing, tugging off the sweater, dropping his pants and boxers to be shamelessly nude before you.

You gulp, gaze bouncing across the chiseled body of your best friend. Hyunjin smiles knowingly, everyone reacts to him this way, he just didn’t expect that switch to be so easily flipped on in you. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging out the tie and allowing his dark locks freedom. While his other hand rises to remove the glasses.

“No-”

He stops and shoots you a quizzical look, one that is punctuated with a paradoxically cute tilt of his head.

“Leave them on.”

He grins, “another kink.”

Hyunjin rolls his tongue between his lips, as he bends to tug you down the bed by your thighs. The squeak that escapes your mouth earns you an affectionate chuckle from him and you relax at the familiar sound.

This is your best friend, he’s not some inexperienced man pretending to be a dominant. Hyunjin smiles at you as he feels your muscles release underneath his hands.

The urgency with how he undressed himself is the polar opposite of how he unclothes you. His slim fingers slowly unbutton your pants, methodologically like he’s molding your body like clay.

Committing each touch to memory to draw later, each feeling, each sound. The snap of your button, the zip of your pants, you watch his eyes observing every subtlety.

He bites his bottom lip at the tilt of your hips, his eyes tracing how the light casts shadows over the mound of your cunt.

The darkened valleys that your hip bones create as he shifts the denim down your thighs. He tosses them off to accompany his discarded clothing, absently tracing the malleolus of your ankle as he nestles himself between your open thighs.

You move to sit up, thinking your shirt is next, but Hyunjin is quick- he pins you to the bed by your throat and the moan that escapes you is raw.

Hyunjin huffs at you, eyes lidding as the sound impacts him. With his hand firm on your throat, his other fingers dip into the band of your panties, middle finger diving into your slit. He moans himself, eyes closing in pleasure at discovering how wet you are.

Hyunjin releases you altogether, bending over to grab a condom from the crystal ashtray on his nightstand. He rolls it over his length, and everything picks up speed.

Suddenly your panties are gone and Hyunjin spears open your lower lips with one hand, slapping the head of his cock on your swollen clit. You writhe, crying out at the sensation as he circles it with his tip.

“Choking you makes you this wet?” Hyunjin’s eyes are on your face and you blink yours open at him, nodding. “Can you come from it?”

“I don’t know, no one has ever tried. Most guys get too lost in-” You break off and he tilts his head, eyebrows rising slyly.

His tip breaks your entrance, “-this pussy?”

You arch off the bed when he thrusts into your bowed body causing you both to moan loudly.

Hyunjin climbs onto the bed, thighs slipping under yours as he presses your pelvis together.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” He heaves out in half moan, half laugh.

“Hyunjin-” you grasp at his arms on your hips and his fierce gaze meets yours as one hand takes its place on your throat, thrusting in and out a few times.

“Squeezing me just like this-shit” his hand on your throat tightens in a way that makes your eyes roll back.

Combined with the sensation of his dick rubbing snuggly into the front wall of your core. He has you panting and whimpering from both.

Hyunjin’s eyes burn into yours as he snaps his hips hard a few times before backing off of you entirely, his chest heaving slightly. You chase after him, legs sprawled open, and tug his mouth to yours with a fistful of his silken hair.

He grins against your mouth, “That's it, show me what you want.”

He slips back onto the bed, guiding you into his lap, and you comply, eagerly. Slowly sinking onto his length, only Hyunjin doesn’t want that, he slams you down by your hips and you both cry out at the stretch and clench of your cunt.

His hands drift up your sides, snatching the hem of your sweater, followed by a one-handed snap of your bra, before both are tossed off into the void of his darkened room.

Hyunjin reclines back against the pillows fluffed up against the headboard, hands trailing down your chest. His right hand, the one that seems to be permanently tinted with oil crayon and kohl smudges your nipples as he grazes them. His pupils spread as he watches you, as you roll your hips forward just a little, to test how he feels in this position.

“It's not too deep for you?” He rolls up into you, bathing in your reaction as you arc forward, breasts thrust towards his face.

He does it again, this time his hand grasping your throat firmly as you shudder against him.

“No,” you moan, rubbing yourself shamelessly into his base.

Hyunjin’s lips part as you continue your gyrations, his hand on your throat constricts in response. You start to pant, your arousal beginning to climb again.

“Fuck” Hyunjin curses.

His pelvis tucking into the bed, away from you as you tighten around him. His other hand rocks your hips encouraging you to keep moving, and you do.

Your eyes lidded as you stare down at your beautiful best friend, his dark hair splayed across the pillows, metal rims of his glasses catching in the light.

Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his own arousal flaming under your heated gaze. He squeezes your throat again, both of you moaning as you tremble around him. You start to rock, and Hyunjin’s head kicks back as you draw him out and your pussy sucks him back in with urgent strokes.

“Harder,” he bites between clenched teeth, and you slam your ass back, your hands grasping the arm linked to your throat for balance.

You’re not sure who is more lost in the sensation, you or Hyunjin. He lets out a suppressed moan, each time you sink fully into his lap. While you moan and pant unabashedly, gasping for breath as his fingertips alternate long squeezes with short tight ones against the column of your throat.

The coil of your climax sends your nipples into tight buds as it slips across your body, sinking into every muscle.

“Hyun-” you start, and he sits up smashing your lips to his, plush lips parting and tongue diving inside to swallow every moan you release.

With a firm hand on your throat, his hips match your pace, drilling up into you and no longer hiding his vocalization.

Hyunjin’s fingers squeeze tight and hold firm, causing you to burst around him. Overwhelmed not just from the asphyxiation but by his tongue tracing figure eights across yours and the swell of his cock stroking along your sensitive walls.

Arousal gushes out of you, wetting Hyunjin’s lap so that each thrust is announced with an undeniably intimate squelch. You cry a strangled version of his name into his mouth, his lips still working yours until you’re bowing away from him, your spine curving you back.

Hyunjin follows right behind you, fisting your throat one last time before his fingers splay open as he comes apart groaning your name. His head tossed back, hips shaking with effort as you continue to seize around him.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whispers as he collapses back against the headboard, “Mmm.”

Hyunjin rubs your thighs affectionately, rolling his hips into you one final time before pulling you down to lay on his chest.

The two of you lay there in near silence, the only sounds are your labored breaths returning to a normal pattern. Hyunjin idly draws lines along your spine, with the tips of his slender fingers as you come down from your high.

“Hyunjin,” you mumble against the valley of his clavicle.

“Hmmm?” He returns sleepily.

“This doesn’t change anything between us, right?” You lift your head to look at his face.

His eyes are closed, and he looks like a Grecian carved work of art. Full lips glistening with your exchanged saliva, cheekbones dewy from sweat.

His hand on your back stills briefly, before flattened palms rub up your rib cage and his eyelashes flutter open to meet your anxious stare.

“A couple of fucks won’t change what's between us, honey.” He says firmly and you smile in relief pressing your forehead to his, he wastes no time in sealing his lips to yours.

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ancuninfiles · 19 days

Text

Comfort

Screenshot by @astarionposting

5.6k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Tav - 18+

Summary: Nym (Tav) had just met the members of their newly formed ragtag crew that day. The idea of being a leader overwhelms Tav, and so she seeks comfort. Her seeking brings her to a certain pale elf's tent. Perhaps they could bring one another comfort.

Tags: Smut and Fluff, Druid Tav, Tav has catgirl vibes, Soft Astarion, P in V sex, Oral (female receiving), Wood elf Tav, Blood drinking, Vampire bites, Choking, Light BDSM, Enthusiastic consent, Soft dom Astarion, Tav is autism-coded, Romantic Comedy, Creampie, Aftercare, Realizations of feelings, Astarion is a dork

I changed Tav's name to Nym (Nim)

Read on AO3 (recommended)

Read part 2

It was a brisk night in Faerün. She had acquired allies that had also been infected with Mind Flayer parasites today. It was day 1 of this bullshit and they already had chosen her to be their leader for some reason. It was too much pressure. She already had a hard enough time deciding what to eat for breakfast, let alone make life-or-death decisions. She started getting a headache just thinking about how overwhelming all this was, and she wasn't sure if it was maybe partially caused by the literal worm in her fucking brain.

"Silvanus, save me." She whispered a quiet prayer to herself in her tent.

Nym started to think of what she usually does when she is stressed out.

- Make tea (Shit, we have no tea, at least not the ones I am willing to drink from the woods in this region.)

- Take a warm bath (Well, there was the cold Chionthar. Getting cold and wet before bed was an idiotic idea.)

- Read a book (We have no books at camp yet, better add it to my Gods forsaken shopping list.)

Nym groaned in frustration. 'What else what else what else!? Come on, think.'

Nym remembered that when she was growing up, Wild Shaping into a cat would often provide her comfort in trying times. She was able to cozy up in tight places like baskets and tree stumps. Nobody would ask anything of her or disturb her.

If she Wild Shaped into a cat right now and hung out a bit outside of camp, she doubts her new-found "friends" would go looking for her. They just met and there is no way they are on that level. If she disappeared right now forever, they probably wouldn't even think about her ever again. Perfect. She just needed to slink away for an hour or so to decompress without the threat of the companions asking her for instruction or expecting her to have a fucking plan.

Nym stepped out about 30 meters into the woods, wearing sandals and trying to avoid getting twigs stuck between her toes. She needs to avoid having a meltdown and ripping her hair out for at least long enough to get into her cat form.

"ERRG" She fumed. Sap managed to get into her sandals and it was sending her teetering over the edge.

She transformed in a rage into a fluffy white cat with green eyes and a pink nose. Suddenly her hearing had improved. One thing she forgot about her cat form was that everything was much louder. Usually, the sounds of nature would help calm her, but right now, everything was setting her off. She could practically feel the sound of the wind bristling through the trees.

Her clothes remained in a pile on the forest floor. She stepped out of them with grace and then started making her way back to camp. Surely none of her companions would find it strange that a cat was hanging out at camp. They would probably just assume she was looking for scraps or hunting for fish down by the river.

She arrived at the tree line and saw that everyone was either at their tents or in their tents. Good. She started walking to the fire, past the pale elf's red fancy tent. She couldn't remember his name. 'Aster? Asherion? Hmm.' She pondered. He was slightly threatening but mostly cute. He seemed to have a handful of sardonic quips in his arsenal. Locked and loaded, ready to fire whenever the tension needed to be broken. She always adored people like that. Those types of people were always good to have around, especially when she found herself often being embarrassed in social situations, falling silent and not knowing what to say. Gods it helps having someone silly with a dark sense of humour to just be idiots with. She hoped that he liked her, too, and maybe they could be buddies. Maybe he would help make the horrors feel less horrible.

She was almost at the fire and heard something from behind her. It was the pale elf, Ass-er-rion or whatever the Hells his name was. Was he? No. No fucking way.

He was holding his hand out, rubbing his thumb to his fingers. "Psspsspsspsspsssss." The pale elf made the one sound that Nym couldn't resist in her cat form.

Hypnotized by his hand and his sounds, Nym's cat pupils blew as wide as can be and she brought her body tight to the ground and stalked towards The white-haired elf's tent.

'Huhuh... Shit. I want - that hand. What - is in hand? I must bite hand.' She thought, against her better judgment. She crawled closer to his hand, and then she sped up. Finally, she pounced on his hand and wrist, nibbling at his wrist and kicking his hand.

"Ah ah, we ask before we bite." He said as he started to rub her soft fluffy tummy. Nym was disarmed and quickly unlatched from The elf's arm. She slumped into a puddle and slowly closed her eyes.

'Mmm, this is so relaxing.' She thought. Nym started purring. This was exactly what she needed.

The grinning elf scooped her up and put her on his lap. "You are a very cuddly kitty." He said quietly in a baby voice. He started scratching her armpits and under her chin. Rubbing her belly when she rolled over, scratching and patting the base of her tail when she rolled back onto her tummy.

'Free massages for kitty Nym. Hmm, this is the best!' She thought. She would occasionally stand up on his lap, stretching her front paws up to his chest and rubbing her head on his chin. It felt so nice. There was not a worry in her mind.

He scratched and petted Nym's cat form thoroughly for 5 minutes before lying back while Nym rested on his chest, curled up in a ball, peacefully trancing and purring. He stroked her languidly across her side, occasionally petting her tail by gently holding it and making his way down to the tip before going back up the base and giving it a little scratch.

Nym started slowly kneading at his chest with her toes and claws. This was the definition of bliss. She lay cozily on his still chest, accepting any and all the pets the gentle pale elf could offer her.

"Oh kitty, I have had a terrible day, you wouldn't believe it." He whispered, "Your snuggles are the highlight of my evening." He said quietly in baby talk as he booped her nose and she twitched her head back but remained comfortable on his chest.

"Do- do you think people will understand if I bite like you do?" He asked in his most hushed tone. "Will people think I'm cute if I bite like you? Gods I'm starving." He says as he throws his unoccupied hand to his face, cupping his nose and then running his hand down his face, pulling his skin with it in frustration.

Nym then stopped kneading. The sound of his hand making contact with his face slightly startled her. Not only that, his words slightly pulled her out of her trance. 'If I bite like you do... okay? Odd. But then 'Gods I'm starving.' Uhmm...' she thought to herself. Still snuggled up on his chest, but now with her paws tucked under her chest and purring a quiet rumble on him.

She started thinking, hard. 'What an odd thing for one to say. Is he a cannibal? Like the Bhallspawn type?' She sniffed. 'He doesn't smell like a Bhallspawn, usually they have an undertone of rot in their scent. What other type of person likes to bite people? Zombie? No. Stupid. Not a fucking zombie. A vampire? No way. He was in the beating sun when we had met. He would have been ash before I even got there if he was a vampire. Although..' she peered up at his face, looking for the tell-tale signs of a vampire. His eyes were closed and his head was back, so she decided to stand on his hard chest and stalk up to his face, sniffing his lips.

He felt a tickle on his mouth that made him open his eyes and smile. "Oh, kitty you are so sweet!" He said in a squishy tone. He picked her up off his chest and sat up in his candlelit tent.

Nym looked him over. She peered into his eyes which were garnet red. 'Oh fuck. Well... if he doesn't have fangs, maybe he is just part drow or something.' But then he flashed her a toothy grin. 'FANGS? OH FUCK. OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK.' She started to panic. Her fur started to stick straight up off her skin... If the pale elf had been looking at her, he would probably be concerned.

"Well kitty, time for me to start getting ready to sleep." He said with a smile as he took off his night-shirt and then began to unlace his trousers.

'SHIT. THIS IS NOT OKAY. I CAN'T BE HERE.' In a panic, she let out a loud and low-pitched yowl before suddenly transforming back into a human in his tent. Naked.

They both screamed and then simultaneously went to cover one another's mouths with their hands. Then, they fell silent as they stared at each other's terrified eyes.

"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Yelled the wizard from his tent.

The pale elf ripped your hand away from his mouth. He was pissed. "Yes! Just practicing for the opera!" He looked back at you with a deep frown and rolled his eyes.

"I see. Well maybe save it for tomorrow instead of waking everyone at camp, thank you."

Nym couldn't help but giggle a bit under his palm. Shit, he was hilarious. Suddenly becoming too aware of the lack of clothes she had on, she pulled away from his palm and scrunched her knees to her chest. "Can I uh, have that blanket for a moment, please."

The pale elf scoffed, "Fine, but only because I am such a gentleman. Godsdamned druids." He gave her the blanket and she draped it over her shoulders and around her knees.

"I, uhm, I'm really sorry." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The handsome elf pinched his brow ridge with his finger and thumb, as he closed his eyes and scrunched his face in a scowl. "Why did you let me go on for so long, believing you were a real cat."

Nym looked down in shame. "I guess it's just that when I wild shape, sometimes the instincts of whatever animal I turn into take over me. Like I'm not in control." She sighs. "You called me over and your massaging felt so good. I was really stressed before, and, well, sometimes I turn into a cat to help calm myself down... I just, uh, didn't realize that we had a major cat-lover in camp."

The pale elf covered his face with both his hands as if trying to hide how embarrassed he was. He whined "Ohoho Gods save me. For once. Please just this once."

"I um - heard, also, what you said about biting and what-not," Nym says, awkwardly. "And your eyes, and teeth... Well... Also, I forget your name. What was it again? Asherton?"

He then ran both his hands through his hair and grabbed at his scalp. His eyebrows raised and his eyes were wide and staring at the floor of the tent. "This isn't happening." He said as his voice cracked. "No, this isn't real. I must be having a nightmare or - something."

Nym stared at him with concern. He looked like he had one foot in the looney bin. "RAHH I said I'm sorry and it's okay that you're toothy and bitey." She snipped. For some reason, Nym felt too comfortable around this creature who could easily rip her throat out. He was just too silly for her to be scared of, for the most part.

He took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale. "Astarion."

"A'staring at what? I'm sorry I'll look away." Said Nym, turning her head sideways to make him feel more comfortable.

"No, you blubbering idiot. That's my name. My name's Astarion." He quipped.

"Oh - uh - haha. So can I look at you or...?" She asked him genuinely.

"If a wall were nearby, I would smash my head against it."

"Why would you do that? There are lots of trees behind your tent. And a big boulder if I remember correctly."

Astarion just stared at her, mouth agape and brows knitted together.

There was an awkward silence and it made Nym quite uncomfortable.

"I should go." She started to get up to walk out of the tent but Astarion grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait!" He realized that he may have sounded a bit too desperate. With an intentionally lower tone, he spoke to her calmly while tilting his head down and looking at her through his black eyelashes. "Look. I just need more details on what you found out about me, please."

Nym turned back around to face him, still wearing his brown blanket like a cloak. "Oh! Well, I might have concluded that you are a vampire. But it confuses me a lot that you can walk in the sun so..." She paused.

Astarion fakely smiled and exhaled "Ah, okay. Glad we've cleared that up. Is there any chance that you could keep those pretty lips of yours shut about this specific topic with the others? You see, I would much rather break the news myself if I can."

Nym looked at him as if he had accused her of doing something she didn't do. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone. I think I realized that you're not dangerous - well, not dangerous to us at least." Her voice calmed with each word in her statement.

"What?" He looked at her, shocked. "I'll have you know I am very dangerous, actually." He enunciated every syllable of the last word pointedly and smiled.

"Hmm, but you wouldn't hurt me! Right?" Nym asked with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Astarion pursed his lips to the side and held his chin with a finger as he thought about this question. "Hmm." He let go of his chin and then looked Nym up and down with a cheeky smirk. "Not unless you want me to," he leaned in close to Nym, almost brushing his lips on her ear, "darling."

Nym's face turned red as a tomato. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," she exclaimed.

"I recall you biting me without asking, dear." He snaked his right hand to the back of her head, fingers gently running through her hair. "Do you remember what I told you?"

Nym gulped and looked at Astarion with a mixture of fear, confusion, and lust. "To ask before I bite."

"Good girl. Now it would only be right of me to follow my own rules, correct?" Astarion asked in a sultry voice. He started rubbing the back of Nym's head, massaging her scalp.

Nym's head lolled back. Her eyes closed and she let out a deep sigh of pleasure. "Mmm yeah." She practically moaned as she leaned more into his hand that was massaging her head both thoroughly and tenderly.

"So, Nym, what do you say? Can I bite you? I only need a taste, I swear."

Nym was entranced by his massaging. "You can do whatever you want, Orion - or whatever your name was."

Astarion then slowly removed his hand from Nym's scalp and rested it on her shoulder. "Whatever I want? Darling, are you sure about this? We might get carried away. We've only just met."

Nym smiled and sighed happily. She looked at Astarion with a restful gaze. "Where I'm from, stuff like that doesn't really matter. I'm a wood elf, I'm sure you've heard about our ways." She reached a hand out from under the blanket that was cloaking her and rested it on his shoulder, mirroring him. "But of course, I would only want to do things if you wanted to as well. I mean, I might still want to if you don't want to but that obviously doesn't mean you have t-" he shushed her with a finger on her mouth and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He asked, trying his best to not sound like a dick without beating around the bush.

She spoke through her fingered lips. "Yeah, people actually usually say that I talk too much, but I think they're jus-" Astarion silenced her with a bruising kiss. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in as he climbed to his knees above her.

He broke the kiss with a pop and then licked his lips as he looked down at her. He smirked.

She was looking back up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

"You know, I rather like you, my dear. A lot." He said to her in a surprisingly genuine tone. "Now how about we make ourselves comfortable." He gestured to his bedroll.

"Oh! Yes!" She answered. She threw the blanket that was covering her back sloppily and then hurried to the bedroll, her breasts swaying as she climbed on all fours towards her destination. She hesitated for a moment. "Wait, do you want me on top or do you want to be on top?"

He felt a rush in his lower abdomen that made his cock twitch. There was something about a woman who felt so comfortable and confident in her skin that stirred something in him. "My sweet, if you wouldn't mind lying beneath me, I would be delighted. It will also help when I'm tasting your life's essence. We wouldn't want you toppling over, would we?"

"Right." She scooted to the bedroll and lay on her back.

Astarion mounted her and nudged her supple thighs open with his knee. He pushed her legs up to expose her core, positioning himself fully between her legs. He sat there on his knees for a moment, taking her in. His eyebrows canted up in a frown. Gods, she was adorable. Her body was perfect. She got on his nerves a lot today but he respected her openness with him. He couldn't help but admit to himself that her silliness was extremely endearing as well. It wasn't often that he would meet someone charming in the way that Nym was. He desperately wanted her blood but he also had an urge to make her feel good, to make her whimper his name.

Nym was blushing a deep red beneath him. She glared up at him and bit her lip. Her arms were to her sides, in cactus pose. She intuitively trusted him so deeply that she exposed her most vulnerable parts to him, willingly.

They had only just met that day and now, in the night when everyone slept, they were about to become one. One of Nym's top 3 activities, to be sure.

Astarion snaked down to Nym's pelvis with his head, squeezing her thighs in his wake. Nym let out a quiet mewl and looked at him desperately.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, darling" he asserted, and hovered his mouth over her pussy, waiting for her response.

"Of course, love." She managed to say despite her eagerness to be ravished.

"Perfect." Astarion cooed. He immediately licked a thick stripe through her folds and kissed her clit, which caused Nym to throw her head back and moan. This encouraged him further to start teasing her clit with his tongue. She arched her back and started wildly bucking herself onto his tongue. He held her down to gain control and she groaned in both pleasure and frustration.

"Careful, dear, I have sharp teeth." He grinned at her for a moment and locked eyes with her. Her face was twisted with pleasure. "Be a good girl and try to hold still."

"Mmhm" she moaned out and clenched around nothing at his teasing.

He continued his ministrations on her cunt and he tasted a gush come from her hole. He groaned into her clit as he sucked on it mercilessly. He inserted a finger as he teased her nub with his tongue and she clenched around his digit.

"Hmm stuff me more, please, baby." She pleaded to him. She was experienced, and so was he. She knew how to tell him what she needed and wanted. The thought made his cock twitch and grow even larger in his unlaced pants.

Not wanting to slow his mouth, he didn't say anything and simply added a second finger to her hole. She choked out a moan and her pelvis started to become more unruly under his grasp.

He curled his fingers and pumped them into her at a consistent pace while playing with her clit with his tongue. The tips of his digits stroked her spongy wall, driving her crazy.

She gritted her teeth and groaned through them, glancing down at Astarion. She gently brushed her fingers in his hair to encourage him and he grunted into her core again.

Her legs tensed and her breath picked up to a runner's pace. "I'm gonna cum! Astarion!" She moaned loud enough for the whole camp to hear. This certainly wasn't something she was shy about, he thought.

He continued fucking her with his hand and licking her clit as she rode out her orgasm.

"Ahh! Too much! No more, please!" She sweetly hissed.

"Good girl, you are so good at following instructions." He crawled his arms to either side of her and came up to kiss her tenderly. "And I'm surprised you remembered my name, darling. I'm impressed." He jested. He pushed down his pants just enough for his large member to spring out and rest on her soaking cunt.

"Hmph" she let out a huff of air. "Well certainly don't have the will to protest you right now." She retorted. Her hands rested at the sides of her head. Her chest heaved with breathlessness.

Astarion admired her form and her face. He would’ve said that he wished he had noticed her beauty sooner, but - well, he had only met her today.

"Mmm you can stare if you want but," she wriggled her hips against his cock which caused his eyebrows to knit and his mouth to form an "O". He choked out a whine.

"Oh, you cheeky little pup." He cooed

"I remember you calling me 'kitty', actually." She teased and smirked at him.

"You're gonna pay for that." He stated as reached for his shaft and aligned himself with her core. He pushed the head of his cock into her tight hole with a grin on his face.

She let out a high-pitched moan and her face twisted into a needy expression.

She was incredibly wet and tight. He slowly entered her and she started twirling her hips sensually. He eased into her with little effort until he was fully buried to the hilt between her legs and his tip kissed her cervix snugly.

She threw her legs up above his arms and her feet dangled in the air above them.

He started thrusting into her slowly while leaning his torso closer into her. They both whined and their lips connected in a passionate and messy kiss. Their tongues danced around each other's mouths, fighting for dominance. He unhooked one of her legs from his arm and grabbed her cheeks gently to pry her mouth open further. Her pussy fluttered around his cock at his actions.

He pulled his mouth from hers. "Does the little druid like it rough?" He teased

"Uhuh," she whined. "Choke me, please!" She begged.

He groaned excitedly at her lewd suggestion. This moment made him realize how good it felt to be in control, even if it was only an illusion. Even when the other person wanted it. Especially when the other person wanted it. It was something he had deeply craved for centuries, but he never had the opportunity to have any control over any aspect of his life. Maybe things were about to get better for him, despite their condition.

He snaked his hand towards her throat. He remembered what it felt like to be strangled. He could certainly understand the appeal, under the right circumstances and if done safely of course.

"Take a deep breath, dear." He smirked as he consistently rutted into her core.

Nym took a deep breath as if she had done this before and she "knew the drill" so to speak. He then grasped the sides of her throat firmly and she tightened violently around his cock.

"What a good little druid, you are." He started thrusting into her faster and harder, using his grip on her throat to push her into his pelvis with unrelenting force. He slightly straightened the arm that was at her throat and lifted his torso from her. He placed his other hand on her clit and started rubbing.

Nym's face started to become a darker red than her typical blush, and she groaned. Her leg muscles were showing the signs of an impending orgasm. Her back arched off the bedroll and he slammed into her throbbing cunt remorselessly.

"I'm coming again, Astarion!" She choked out her cries of pleasure as she came with his hand around her throat. He continued playing with her clit as he removed his hand from her throat and the flush on her skin began to fade ever so slightly. He hooked her right leg over his left shoulder. She was still fluttering around his shaft as he bent over her, tilted her head to the side roughly with a strong grasp on either cheek and sunk his fangs into her flesh. He removed his hand from her cheeks and used it to grab the back of her head.

He groaned needily into her neck as he fucked her, his pace faltering slightly. Her blood was delectable. This was the best gift he had ever gotten, and he was sure to not forget it.

Astarion felt Nym wriggling to free her clit from his abuse, so he removed that hand from her and then propped himself up on his elbow. Nym choked out a moan and she snaked her arm around to caress his soft white curls. He was so gorgeous. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful man she had ever bedded, and that was saying a lot because she had bedded many men before, sometimes at the same time, all of whom were very attractive.

For some reason, letting him sup from her felt wholesome. As if she was helping a dear friend in need.

Astarion was taking languid gulps of her blood, savouring the divine flavour as it coated his tongue and throat. He grasped the back of her head with a strong hand to hold her steady, all while fucking her drenched hole raw.

"Can you cum inside me, baby?" Nym asked, hoping he was still with it enough to hear her request.

Astarion groaned an "Uhuh" into her throat. Wet slapping noises and moans filled the camp until Astarion did one final snap into Nym's core as he drank from her neck. He filled her with his seed to the brim. He did a few more shallow sensual thrusts until he stilled. He had yet to unlatch himself from Nym's throat.

Nym started to feel light-headed and weak, so she knew that it was time to request for him to stop; that is if he could control himself.

"Stary, baby. Please - stop." She cooed gently at him and tugged tenderly at the curls on the nape of his neck.

Astarion took one last gulp and then he found the will to tear himself from her, panting instinctively. He craned his head into her neck and made sure to not waste a drop of her blood. He cleaned her up with his tongue, and he kissed her neck lovingly.

"Mmm," Nym cooed as she rotated her hips around Astarion's still-hard cock which had yet to exit her.

He grunted, lifted his head from her neck, grabbed her hips with both hands and then thrust into her. He placed his hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her into a sloppy, exhausted kiss. Nym moaned at that, and their lips flew apart. They looked one another in the eye affectionately.

"As much as it would be nice to continue, I fear I will be too sore for tomorrow if we plan on doing this again." Nym sighed.

"It seems you are as eager as I, you sweet thing." He finally pulled himself out of Nym and they both sighed. "Now, kitty, shall I grab your blankets and tuck you in to spend the rest of your night entranced next to me? After we clean you up, of course."

Nym blushed and fought back a grin that was growing on her face. "I really fucking like you. You're my favourite." She said with a cheeky smile, beneath him.

"The feeling is quite mutual, darling. If you couldn't tell already." He exclaimed and then placed a peck on her forehead before giving her head a little scratch. "Right, then, I'll be right back."

Astarion tucked himself into his pants and laced them up. He nicked his best handkerchief and set out to find the kettle next to the fire. The water was warm, but not hot. He soaked his handkerchief and rang it out. He brought the damp fabric back to his tent. "Hello, there." He smiled.

"Hi, Astarion. Long time, no see!" She giggled at her own joke.

"You are quite the silly one. I'm becoming very fond of that laugh of yours." Astarion stated, genuinely.

"Hmm well, you make me giggle a lot, too, if you haven't noticed." She winked at him and smirked.

"Oh, I make all sorts of sounds come out of you, apparently." He teased her, "Now let me help you wash up, sweet love."

She laughed again and she let him help her get cleaned up. It was a tender moment between two strangers who had sought comfort in the form of connection. Nym believed that moments like these were just as nature intended. That was how she was raised, and those were the teachings of Silvanus.

Astarion tenderly wiped Nym clean with his soft cloth, making sure to be both thorough and gentle. Nym turned to face her bum to him and he used his free hand to briefly massage her backside. This gesture felt more sensual rather than sexual. Nym hummed into the feeling and pushed into his touch.

Astarion grinned, feeling satisfied with his efforts. He then left the tent again to rinse his cloth in the river and hang it up outside his tent in a somewhat obscured location. He stalked over to Nym's tent to gather her belongings, which there were few of. He managed to snag a couple of blankets, a pillow, and an unopened glass bottle of water.

He strode back to his tent, where Nym resided, and opened the tent flap with his hand that was holding the water bottle. "I have come with all the fixings, love. I hoped that you had had more blankets. It seems as though we will have to add it to our shopping list." He stated.

"We? Oh, it would be so pleasant to have someone's assistance with that. I've been finding this whole "leader" thing quite overwhelming." Nym awkwardly laughed and then frowned.

"Well, apologies. I should have offered to help you sooner. I may be a monster but I'm not a bum. I can't say the same for our other "companions", however." he quipped.

Nym rolled over on her back and smiled at Astarion, brightly. "You're not a monster, you're just a bit toothy. I can be toothy sometimes, and I don't think I'm a monster."

"Hmm well you are only slightly devious so I suppose they would make an exception in the Guide to Monsters." He smirked at her before undressing himself fully.

"Oh, stop. You love me." She jested.

"Maybe a little, I do have a thing for pretty morsels with claws." He attentively and tactfully placed each blanket atop one another. He kneeled beside her head. "Up." He gestured. She lifted her head slightly and he tucked her pillow under it.

He opened the blankets and crawled in next to her. She was lying on her back with her eyes closed and her hands rested on her ribcage lazily. He nudged and caressed her cheek with his knuckle and then ghosted a thumb over her lips. She turned to face him and opened her eyes. Her hand snaked up to his ear and she stroked it softly. He closed his eyes at the affection, and then he sighed.

He couldn't remember how long it had been since someone touched him with so much affection. His closed eyes started watering at the thought, but he quickly pushed the thought aside and regained his composure. Fortunately, he had been able to avoid having Nym see his sudden emotion at her touch. It was better that he have a conversation with her about that once they had become more well-acquainted. For now, he tried to just enjoy this tender moment between him and his newfound friend.

They lay entwined with one another, trancing until the sun came up.

Despite their predicament, they both almost felt it a blessing that they had found one another. The bond that had begun forming between them felt powerful, in a way that could make both of them stronger. This was a good thing.

Comfort can be a good thing.

Read part 2

#astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #bg3 fanfic #astarion x druid tav #astarion x original female character

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thissharktypes · 8 months

Note

Can u do a wolf!Klaus mikaelson x reader. Sex

They are in a relationship.

They have done this before .

Contains- jealous sex, angry sex , in wolf form spanking , hair pulling, choking, bj .

Spanking and bj in human his human form.

Not comfortable,do not do it .

No pressure

NSFW

//as I said in my pinned requesting post, I don’t do any human x creature smut content unless there is a way to consent or communicate. Since Klaus does fully turn into a wolf in the series it's not possible for him to do either so I did the best I could, I hope you like it! :).//

Gender not specified, written as neutral as I could

“Oh my GOD!” you shout, slamming the door open “I can’t keep doing this with you!” your boyfriend glares at the back of your head “Do what darling?” he replies angrily “Allow men to fawn over you in front of me?” you bang your forehead against the wall, trying to keep your calm “He literally just said he liked my nail polish.” you turn to face him “Klaus, you wig out anytime anyone even breathes the same air as me, It’s not healthy.” his jaw tightens and he refuses to make eye contact “Nobody else deserves to look at you let alone speak to you.” your eyes roll back so hard you swear you pull a muscle “I appreciate how much you love me, I really do,” you cup his face and he practically melts into you “But you have to admit, almost stabbing someone with a fork because they liked my nails is a bit too much.” he growls, his hands sliding around your waist “Nothing is too much, You’re mine.” his eyes darken and your breath hitches “Klaus, you can’t just fuck me until I’m not upset.” he smirks “Want to bet, love?”

You blink and your back is pressed to the wall, his lips pressing against every exposed bit of skin he could find. Your back arches as he fists your hair, pulling your head to the side, hardly biting and sucking on your throat, leaving purple and red marks behind “I’ll cover you in marks if I have to, make sure everyone can see who you belong to.” you whimper, nodding “So obedient all the sudden.” Klaus whispers teasingly “I will claim you on every surface in the house until the only thought you have is of me.”. Everything is a blur of lust, your legs wrapped around his waist, one of his hands tightly gripping your throat the other wrapped around your thigh, keeping you firmly in place as he grinds against you.

You yank your shirt over your head, desperate for your boyfriend to mark more of your skin. He doesn’t even bother to unbutton your pants, just ripping them in half, leaving a pile of shredded clothing at your feet. He thumbs open his own button, the zipper sliding down on its own from the presser of his hardened cock behind it “Please,” you beg, rutting your hips against him “Want you inside.” you can barely choke out a full sentence, your head swimming with need. He obliges, his tip brushing against you teasingly “Who do you belong to love?” he growls into your ear “You, Klaus, Only you.” he slams into you, bottoming out in the first thrust, the delicious slice of pain making your back arch. He changes positions, now having you pressed under him on the floor, his hips snapping into yours.

Klaus relishes in the pretty little noises he pulls from you, but he wants more. Again, he shifts your body, moving you to your knees, your ass pressed against his hips “Look at that, so beautiful.” his hand comes down on your cheek sharply, feelinging you tighten around him as you yelp, a red handprint already blossoming on your skin.

He pulls you up, back to his chest, hand clamped firmly around your throat, fucking into you with all the pent up frustration from earlier “Yes! Don’t stop!” another slap against your ass sends you reeling, your nails digging into his thigh “Don’t you dare cum without permission.” you whine at his words, knowing he’ll string you along until you could barely hold on. His hands continue their abuse on your cheeks and throat, surely leaving handprints on both. Klaus continues his bruising pace, your stomach clenching “Please…” you sound downright pathetic “Taking me so well, absolutely perfect,” he nips at your earlobe and you jerk slightly, your legs shaking violently “Cum for me.” you do, going completely limp in his arms as he slowly pulls out “Tsk, not tapping out already are we?” you shake your head, weakly shifting to face him, he grips your jaw “Open.” your lips part and he grins. Klaus takes a handful of your hair and leads you to his cock, your tongue tracing the soft veins.

His grip tightens and he slides into your mouth, watching as your eyes water “You look so beautiful choking on me.” His voice is soft as he swipes his thumb across your cheek, the moment of sweetness quickly passes as he grinds into your mouth, tipping his head back in pleasure. Your scalp stings as he assaults your throat, cheeks flushed with arousal as you look up at your lover, his eyebrows furrowed and his lip taken between his teeth. His hips stutter and his hands yank harder on your hair as his seed fills your mouth. You pull away, both of you panting. “I love you.” he says and presses a kiss to your forehead. He combs through your hair, undoing any tangles he caused before picking you up and carrying you towards your shared bedroom.

#klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #tvd klaus #klaus x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #the originals #mikaelson x reader #tvd x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson smut

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chronicbitchsyndrome · 10 months

Text

the thing is, in my crippled opinion, i think we're missing something when pointing at art that's inaccessible in various (including dangerous) ways and saying there's no reason for it to exist. in that like, yes, nobody needs to play a game that needs such intense motor coordination skills that even fully abled players take years of practice to finish the full game, and nobody needs to look at a webcomic where the colors are so saturated they leave the site with a massive headache, and nobody needs to risk death via latent-seizure-disorder by watching a movie with intense red-blue color flashes.

but some people like those experiences, for whatever reasons. some people enjoy doing things that are uncomfortable, risky, and even harmful, like getting choked by their sex partners, or belay-free mountain climbing, or going to a concert with a ton of flashing lights. so it's incredibly low-hanging fruit for someone to be like "but there is a reason. me. the target demographic. i am the reason this art exists" and like. that's real!

which is why i tend to aim my cripple bitching more towards accurate content warnings and diversity of media. i'm not trying to remove all video games that require extremely fast reflexes from existence; i just think video games that are accessible to people with the worst hand-eye coordination known to man should also be able to get made with equal amounts of funding and structural support (and also i really want IP law to shift enough that mods of existing games that change the skills necessary + entirely retooled spinoff games that focus on entirely different skillsets can exist without constantly being under attack from IP holders like nintendo). i'm not trying to take away the spiderverse movies as they currently exist; i just want all of their advertising plus the movie itself to contain warnings for flashing lights and other seizure triggers.

and this isn't even a compromise, to me; i don't see any reason things that are unpleasant and dangerous to me shouldn't exist for other people. but like, i am extremely kinkbrained and that's probably where this mindset comes from. it's very hard to be like "something that could possibly kill me shouldn't exist even if other people like doing it with fully informed consent!" when i just listened with great interest the other night to my discussion group partner describing an actual crucifixion scene she attended.

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reidlita · 8 months

Text

i say, "you the bestest"

hockey player! miguel x reporter! reader

warnings?: munch miguel 24/7 ikdr💯 degration, daddy kink, petnames (he calls you a slut and puck bunny in the blurb lol), hard sex, angry sex, blowjobs lol, chubby chaser miguel is real, dom! miguel x sub! reader but not cray cray, reader is a brat lol, afab reader, locker / public sex, breeding kink lol, choking

a/n: minors dni or ur universe is collapsing next <3. i’m canadian and hockey players r my everything, and so is miguel!! not edited / proofread

sfw

you didn’t like him at first, bc he was grumpy and you thought he was an asshole!! but then you caught his eye while you were doing an after game report and it was game over.

you officially meet at a bar, because maybe you’re friends with one of the other players. he offers to buy you a drink, and obviously you agree because free alcohol (unless u don’t drink lol)… it ends in sex.

he snatches ur number and eventually you fall into a fwb thing, then eventually a proper relationship.

your relationship gets exposed when you two are out together and it’s all over the news— and you get into an angsty fight over it. because miguel’s worried ab ur safety but you’re just annoyed he’s pushing you away!!

miguel would be the team captain me thinks, and his number would be nine… idk why nine. he just seems like a nine guy. i think he would either be the goalie or defense.

ughh omg so like. another guy at the game is flirting with you, and miguel notices, so he slams off his helmet and bangs on the glass to tell him to fuck off >>> UGH

or another opponent from the other team starts talking about you and he just loses his shit😭because nobody can talk about his bunny without him rocking their shit.

would teach u how to ice skate, and would laugh when you fall but help you up with concern!!

gets jealous so easily it’s funny. he’s super protective and possessive— not in a beating up anyone you talk to way— because he wants u 2 be safe!!!

nsfw

he goes HARD. and by hard i mean like, will having you cumming four times and sobbing. in a good way!!! ofc if you want he’ll be gentle, or sappy sex is also something he adores.

i think in this consent would be super big for him. because he’s exposed to things and photographed etc without his consent 24/7, and he hates it. he just wants privacy! so he’s always asking if you’re okay, how you are, if you want or need anything.

he’d definitely call you bunny. because like— puck bunnies. he’d think it was funny. would also call you baby, sweetheart, and angel!!! on the receiving end i think this version would like daddy! usually he’d enjoy just his name or something sweet like babe, miggy, migs, etc; but if you’re into it then go ahead!

fave position?… i think he’d like doggy style, 69, and cowgirl. if you’re 69ing with him, trust he will ravaging ur pussy like ur quivering and shaking around his dick ma😭😭.

LOVES recieving and giving!! give him a blowjob and he’s crazy. he just loves seeing you on his knees for him, your eyes tearing up and drool spilling down your pretty little lips :( would prefer cumming down your throat but again… glasses. he’d cum on ur face with no complaint <3

this man would fuck you on the phone. like, your a busy woman, and if someone calls you while he’s fucking you? don’t be shy, pick it up. if you weren’t into that he wouldn’t make you, comfort and consent is his top priority.

aftercare king? like? always makes sure you have a water bottle in cause you need water, always makes sure you have what you need!! loves cuddling you. he’s the big spoon!

he’d have a warm body but cold hands. oftentimes you’ll wake up with his hands creeping up your shirt or in between your thighs!! sometimes you just wake up with him nibbling at your tits lol

ASS MAN!!! he loves your ass. like he’s your asses #1 fan. sometimes he’ll just talk to it. will corner you when you’re in the kitchen, grabbing onto ur ass and is like “missed you s’much, baby.” your about to reply until he pinches your ass and you realize he’s not talking to you 😭.

into degration and praise, but he likes degration the most i think. (with consent) would call you a slut and make fun of you for being cock hungry. would call you a puck bunny lol, all to see you roll your eyes. loves to just use you as a toy, fucking you until your limp and crying :((

brat tamer!! brat tamer!!!!!!!!

once again, miguel’s a chubby chaser. love him. like he wants u to choke him with your thighs 🤍

would fuck you in the locker room after a game.

blurb

“m-fuck— miguel!” you cry out, fingers grasping at the silver coaking of the locker. he grunts in reply, his fingers digging marks into your pretty little ass.

“what?” he hisses, leaning forward to whisper into your ear, “you like getting fucked like a— hah, slut? in my locker room?”

you shake your head, drool pilling at your lips as your cheek presses against the locker. the cold of the metal flutters against your skin, a welcoming feeling to the warmth beneath.

“n…ah… no,” you whimper, arching your back when he brutually thrusts into you. a rhythm of one two three that makes you moan out hoarsely.

“no?” he coo’s, voice sickly sweet, sending sharp shivers down your spine, “almost like y-you’re not letting yourself get banged into my l—mf— locker.”

you moan obscenely, clenching around him when his hips stutter. “‘s too much, mig—uel!”

“what? my little puck bunny can’t handle it?” miguel scoffs, head dipping to nip at your neck. “well, that’s just too bad, ain’t it?”

you babble, voice cracking as you sniffle. his hand crawls to your throat, pulling you into a chokehold. your eyes widen, a sob racking through your throat and his grin is shakey.

“fuckin’— shit, look at me, bunny.” he groans, eyes peering into your wide and blown out ones, “little cunt gripping my c…cock. you enjoy being fucked like a toy?”

you nod your head, eyes shutting close as your fingernails claw at his arms. the muscles of them ripple against your grasp, and when you drag your nails down his arms his thrusts hiccup.

“yesyesyes,” you cry, tongue lolling out into the curved side of your lips.

“ohh, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” miguel whispers, and chokes out a muffled moan when you clench around him. “yeah? y-ah, you want me to cum inside y’baby?”

your head twists to the side, panting as you bob your head. “yes, pl—oh, my god. please, daddy,”

his hips falter, and his head presses against the crook of your neck when he spills inside you. his groan vibrates against your neck, and you spasm around him as your cum again.

… he has to release that tension somehow, yeah?

#miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel is my boy crush #i love miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel my beloved #spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #smut

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 || percy dolarhyde x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || the world's oldest profession attracts some of the West's oddest characters, and Percy is a strange bedfellow as much as he is a reliable regular. being a no-good, half-witted son-of-a-bitch, you really have no excuse for developing a bit of a crush on him while on the clock.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || smut (slightly dubious consent, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sex in the bath, and a clothed footjob lol), mild foot/stockings fetish, prostitution (reader works in a bathhouse), dom/sub dynamics (featuring switchy percy), angst, unrequited love (kinda?), percy is a dick (also known as: canon) but also he's just kinda emotionally constipated

A choked groan caught in Percy’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you intently. “Sweetpea, c’mon— lemme touch ya, I’ll make you feel so good…”

You simply shook your head, continuing to rub the bulge in his trousers with your stocking-covered foot. “I bet you could get off like this,” you challenged with a smirk.

“No, baby, please,” he panted, “not like this— I can make a mess in my pants at home, let me get inside ya while I’m here, please—”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” you purred. “You’re pretty worked up and you’re still dressed— I’m still dressed. Should I take these stockings off?”

“N-no,” he choked, “those are nice… you can keep ‘em on, if you wan’...”

You smiled proudly, not surprised by that response at all; he clearly had a thing for the silk, and you kept catching his eyes wandering to where the socks ended at your upper thighs with a lacy hem. Your thin dress, fallen off your shoulder on one side to give him a good view of your tits, was perfect for the warm weather— even if it was so revealing that you’d be arrested for leaving the bathhouse without covering up more.

Percy was a regular, coming in three or four times a week to get his fix. It being a bathhouse and all, you figured these last few months since he started seeing you were the cleanest he’d ever been in his life. He still managed to dirty himself up quite a bit in between his visits, giving you plenty to do when you were scrubbing him down, washing his hair, rubbing his back and shoulders as he sighed and sank into the hot water.

Today was different. Before you even got him stripped down for his bath, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him. He was just so fun to pick on, watching that cocky attitude falter was terribly satisfying. You’d just gotten sick of his mocking, taunting demeanor and self-aggrandizing comments that never seemed to stop once you’d gotten him clean and he’d gotten you on all fours. “Who’s got you screamin’ so loud, baby? That’s right— nobody else fucks you this deep, I bet. I’m your favorite customer, huh? Always make this whore pussy come?” That sort of thing. It was hot, in its own way, but it could get annoying too. You just wanted to make sure he knew that you still had all the control, even if he liked to play the big tough cowboy who takes what he wants; you knew that under that ego, he was just a sweet little boy looking for attention. And he seemed to need your attention most.

“Baby,” he croaked when you pressed your heel up against his balls, making him shift in the chair. “Are we even gonna get in the bath before you make me come?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you replied honestly. “I think if you ask me real nice, I’ll run it for you soon.”

“Fuck, dunno if I can wait that long,” he breathed, hips moving up to rub his cock against your foot— the curve of your sole seemed to fit with the shape of his cock, and he let his head fall back in a gasp. “Can’t I just fuck you now, and we can take a bath after? I’m gonna get you dirty anyways.”

You chuckled at that, because it was true— he liked to come inside, as deep as he could, and watch it slowly seep out of you over the course of the next half hour before you eventually kicked him out.

That goal was getting more and more distant as you kept stroking him with your foot— a little faster now. He was panting by this point, and you smiled at the sight of his suppressed desperation. He was getting close, and he could hardly stand it. "Wait," he pleaded, "sweetpea— stop, not like this…"

His words resisted, but his hips moved of their own accord and rubbed up against you. You could see the conflict on his face, his eyes shut tightly as his lack of self-control struggled against his greed for more. Percy was never one for delayed gratification…

"Please, please," he croaked, "just stop and we can get in the bath— baby, can't take much more'a this…"

"I know," you hummed.

"Don't you wanna feel good too?" he bargained. "I know you like how I fuck ya— ah, shit, m'so close, shit!"

"It's okay, baby, just come," you cooed encouragingly. He hissed in a breath through his teeth, whimpering slightly, and you grinned as you felt his cock pulse against the arch of your foot. "Mm, just like that…"

You could feel the wetness starting to soak through his pants and seep into your stocking, and you tickled his balls with your toes to make his moans get all high-pitched and whiny.

"Keep goin', honey," you purred.

Obviously, that was a bit redundant since he had no way to stop it; he bucked up against nothing as the stain on his pants grew and the bulge just under it flexed uncontrollably. His eyes were shut and his head tossed back, so thankfully he didn't see you bite your lip at the sight. The other girls didn't like Percy much, for his looks or attitude, so they always acted like you were a saint (or maybe a sinner being punished) for taking him on as a regular— but you thought he was pretty cute, especially like this, blushing and groaning and whimpering your name.

Finally, he seemed to finish up as he relaxed down into the chair with a long sigh. "Good boy," you winked, and he shivered slightly before blinking his eyes open and looking at you again.

"Fuck was that for?" he asked hoarsely, catching his breath.

"I think you are getting a little too proud of how easy you make me come," you explained. "Wanted to remind you that I'm still better at making you lose your cool."

"Well, no kidding," he hissed, "you sure know how to make your living, sweetpea. I never said otherwise. S'no reason to stop me from getting my money's worth outta you."

"Don't worry, baby, you're still gonna get your bath," you smiled, standing up. "I'll wash your clothes for you while the water's getting warm— just so you don't have to put back on your pants with jism in them."

"Hm, figure you should," he agreed, standing up and taking off his vest before he started unbuttoning his shirt, "since it's your fault anyways."

"Oh, please," you rolled your eyes, getting the big basin-stove turned on to heat up the bathwater, "with how excitable you are, bet it happens to ya all the time."

"Does not!" he defended, petulant as ever. "I never even did that to myself when I was a boy! I always had the foresight to find a rag or something to spill into."

“You can’t even spell ‘foresight’,” you rolled your eyes.

“F-O-R-S-I-T,” he announced confidently.

“I stand corrected,” you sighed, dipping your fingers in the water and feeling it was just about where you wanted it. “You’re so strong, Percy, would you lift this for me?”

“Sure thing, sweetpea,” he announced proudly, flexing his arms a bit before he picked up the bucket of hot water and poured it into the copper bathtub. He took his boots and pants off next, rather eagerly; the second he was naked, he was slipping into the water with a sigh and you were gathering his clothes to toss into the wicker hamper for washing.

“I’ll be back when these are washed and hung out to dry, alright?” you explained as he sank lower under the water’s surface.

“Don’t take too long,” he breathed, leaning back and relaxing in the warmth. Smiling to yourself, you carried the basket on your hip as you walked past the bed and slipped out the door back into the hallway.

It was louder out here, when you could hear other girls and clients, even the music downstairs was audible through the floor. This was a pretty classy place, all things considered— there wasn’t nearly the ruckus you’d find in a normal whorehouse or saloon, those places were dirty in every sense of the word. Not the bathhouse, though, this little oasis in the desert was about peace, cleanliness… and, of course, shameless prostitution, but it was still better than some other spots. It certainly wasn’t the cheapest, either, and for a higher price you and your fellow good-time girls were held to a much higher standard. You figured that was why a man like Percy, with more time and money than he knew what to do with, came out here: for a better product and a more luxurious experience.

Turning the corner in the hall, you stepped into one of the ‘backstage’ areas as they were often called— the places only employees of the bathhouse could go— where you found several women relaxing and talking with each other in between appointments, in various states of undress. The room was steamy and lit with just one window, old silk curtains draped along the walls, and you glanced longingly at a bottle of gin; you didn’t like to drink on the job, but you made a mental note to come back for a finger or two later.

“Whose clothes are those?” another girl— a friend of yours, Sadie— asked as you walked by, but someone else answered before you.

“Don’t you know?” Margaret (or “Marge,” depending on your familiarity) interjected. “She’s always got her regular at this time.”

“Oh,” Sadie rolled her eyes, knowing who your regular was, “poor thing— those clothes must be filthy.”

You dumped the contents of the hamper into a running sink, grimacing slightly as an immediate cloud of dirt and dust filled the water.

“Good Lord,” Sadie winced, “you’re sure that Dolarhyde boy isn’t a pig farmer?”

“No wonder he asked you to wash his clothes,” a newer girl called Belle, even though her real name was Phoebe, noticed.

“Oh, he didn’t ask me to,” you explained, “they just needed a wash after he made a mess in ‘em.”

A few of the girls in earshot giggled, and Marge scoffed. “He seems the type,” she mumbled.

You snatched a bar of soap off of the counter and rubbed it between the clothes, dirty water turning a cloudy-white color from the suds and the scent of lavender filling the air. “He won’t be mad when his clothes smell like flowers?” Belle wondered.

“Beats smelling like a fuckin’ stable,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Marge cooed condescendingly at Belle, “you don’t know much about Percy yet. He doesn’t get mad at her— doesn’t stay that way, at least. She’s got him wrapped around her finger.”

“Really?” Belle smiled, wistful as if she aspired to have a client like yours someday. You wished you could warn her— it’s all fun and games when a client has an affection for you, until you start getting affections of your own— but you kept washing silently and just listened.

“Mm, he’s comin’ by here more and more just to see her, won’t settle for anyone else,” Marge explained. “Well, maybe for a pretty young thing like you…”

You hated the twist in your heart when Marge said that, even though you didn’t really believe her. Percy wouldn’t go for a girl like Belle, he needed someone with your experience— yes, she was pretty, but you and Percy had built such a rapport and you knew just what he liked, he said so himself all the time. That couldn’t be replaced with just anything.

“More than half her salary is coming out of his pocket,” Marge continued as she nodded in your direction. “That’s the thing— Madam will tell you it’s all about getting as many customers as you can, but really, if you can get one or two real loyal regulars, you’re set.”

“Wow,” Belle sighed, taking in all of Marge’s sage advice; you started to wring out Percy’s clothes, relieved that the water was finally running clear. “So,” the young woman turned her attention to you, “how do you do it? How do you get a client to fall in love with you?”

“Woah there,” you stammered out, “he’s not in love with me. He’s just… comfortable with me, doesn’t wanna have to teach somebody new what he likes. He can be particular.”

“Is he the bossy type?” she asked.

The image of Percy just a few minutes ago, succumbing to the pleasure you forced upon him, begging for relief and release, flashed in your mind. “Uh,” you choked, “usually.”

“So what do I do, just try to be charming?” she pressed.

“Well, I suppose,” you shrugged, “and maybe ask them a lot about their lives and such— be a good listener. Pretend it’s all very interesting.”

“Anything else?”

Stroke his hair while he falls asleep in your lap. Avoid his personal questions because no one’s ever asked about you before and you don’t know what to say. Listen to him ramble about his dreams and fears and all the places he wants to take you. Let him kiss you sometimes because he asks so sweetly and you just can’t help yourself, even though you’re not supposed to.

“Don’t let them kiss you,” you heard yourself say, “ever. If you don’t follow the rules, they won’t either.”

“Good idea,” Belle agreed.

“Sadie, if you hang these out to dry for me, I’ll make your bed after your next session,” you offered as you held the wet clothes out to her.

“That’s a done deal,” she smirked as she took them from you and started to walk away.

“Somewhere nice and sunny, want ‘em dry by the time he’s done,” you explained, calling out after her. She nodded at you and left through the door to the outside, letting in a bright orange stream of sunlight on her way out.

Not one to leave Percy waiting too long, you returned to the hallway and passed by each door until you found your own— you had it painted with flowers, to help it stand out from all the others. You were already smiling as you turned the handle and stepped inside, seeing Percy in the tub across the room, who opened his eyes and gave you a relaxed smile.

“Hurry up,” he complained playfully, “I’m gettin’ lonely in here.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, but bent down anyways to lift your skirt and start rolling your stockings down your legs. You heard him hum quietly and knew he was watching you, so you made sure to let your thin dress slide off your shoulders nice and slow. Most of the customers here wanted to see the ladies in finer wear— maybe to know that their money was going to good use— but Percy always liked you in underwear, thin cotton slips and loose corsets, stuff that fit right in with the bathhouse aesthetic. It was a little ironic, but dressing this way for him made everything feel more intimate; yes, it’s silly, because how much more intimate can it get when you’re having sex with someone? But this was different. It made you feel like… well, you didn’t like to admit it, but it made you feel like a wife. It was a state of undress that only a husband would see his wife in, while she was getting ready or maybe after she’d come home on a hot day and just needed to breathe. You’d be in your slip and he’d lay in bed beside you, and sometimes you thought about what it would be like if he didn’t just call you “sweetpea,” but also “darling” and “honey” and “dear wife.” A man like Percy wasn’t looking for a wife, though, and you weren’t sure what use he would have for one… but every once in a while you let yourself play pretend in your head for a while.

“Don’t tease me,” he pleaded as you lowered your dress more and more, and finally you let it drop to the floor as he groaned a little. Bare to him and his hungry stare, you scampered across the room to hop in the tub with him; he didn’t make much room for you, happy to force you to entangle yourself with him so you could sink into the water.

“Lean back,” you cooed, watching him smile and lay his head back until the water soaked his hair just up to his face. He relaxed while you combed your fingers through his dusty-blonde locks, finding some soap nearby to lather into it.

“Oh, your fingers are so good,” he purred when you started to massage his scalp.

“Yeah? I get that a lot,” you joked. “Let’s let that soak for a while and I’ll wash your body, okay?”

“Alright,” he smirked, “my shoulders are real sore— make sure you get real deep, sweetpea…”

He groaned as you massaged more soap into his skin, digging your fingers into the muscle; you took a bit of your frustration out on him with how hard you rubbed, but he seemed to enjoy it if anything.

“Yeah, just like that,” he sighed, relaxing further into your arms. “You’re so good to me…”

You smiled a little to yourself, moving your soapy hands down to his chest to lather up some suds there. “You like this?” you asked softly.

He simply hummed to himself, and breathed through his teeth as you started to massage his arms. He was actually pretty muscular, lean and taut, tanned from the relentless frontier sun…

As your eyes trailed down his body, his toned abdomen and hips, they settled on his cock— still hard, which it tended to be for a while after he came, even if he was down for the count until his next session. You weren’t sure why, but you kept having all these great ideas to tease him today, and you couldn’t resist.

“You look real good, Percy,” you said, and he smiled wider.

“Yeah?”

That cocky look dropped right off of his face when your fingers slid down his body and wrapped around his cock— soapy and slick, he shuddered as your grip slid smoothly over his shaft and the ridge of his sensitive head. He looked up at you with a conflicted sort of stare as you smiled coyly down at him. “I’m good with my fingers, huh?” you recalled.

“B-baby, wait,” he whimpered.

“Wait for what?” you sighed, lifting yourself up and suddenly straddling him— he looked equal parts hopeful and terrified as he looked up at you. “I’ve been waitin’ for you for days, Percy, I need ya so bad— didn’t you say you were gonna make me feel good? Nobody’s as good as you, baby, you know that.”

He bit his lip at the praise, but even all those compliments couldn’t fully soothe his hesitation when you began to guide him to press right up to your opening. "Oh, fuck— sweetpea, hold on," he groaned, "I'm not quite recovered yet—"

"You're hard as a rock, that's good enough for me," you winked, sliding down onto his length as he gripped the sides of the tub hard enough to make you worry he'd dent the copper. You bit your lip, insides clenching involuntarily— he always filled you so well, but you tried not to show how much it affected you.

"Ah, shit!" he yelped, grabbing your hips as you started to bounce up and down, sloshing the water around you both. "Baby, what are you tryin' to do, kill me?"

"I'm just giving you what you were begging for before, you can take it," you dismissed, struggling slightly to keep track of what you were saying as you adjusted to the stretch. "You always act so proud, talk about how you can fuck me for hours… what happened to that?"

"What happened is you made me come in my pants," he hissed, "and hopped on my dick a few minutes later while I'm still sore! Fuck, sweetpea, it hurts…"

"Yeah? I think you like it though," you grinned, sighing as your own pleasure started to build. "It's not too much for you, is it?"

"Yes it is!" he whined, but you felt him starting to move his hips with yours— poor Percy, he just couldn't help himself. "Ahh, sweetie, you're gonna be the death of me, I swear…"

"Just tell me to stop, and I'll stop," you promised. "Just tell me to stop, honey— you're payin' after all, I'll do whatever you like. Do you want me to stop?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes trained on your tits as you rode him fast and recklessly— and finally, he shook his head. "N-no, fuck, don't stop," he groaned.

You laughed proudly, rocking your hips faster as he groaned. "Didn't think so," you cooed. "You like it too much, huh?"

He nodded and you giggled proudly, leaning down to grab the edge of the tub behind his head as you rode him faster.

Of course, that put your tits right in front of his face and, gasping and whining a bit, he slid his wet hands up your stomach to grope your chest. You moaned softly as he kneaded your flesh with calloused fingers, moving your hips slower and with more precision until he let his head fall back with a groan.

“S-sweetpea,” he choked, “fuck, I missed this…”

You smiled to yourself; it had been almost a week since his last session, and for him that was like a month without water. He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down into him, rutting his hips up into you until you were forced to just go limp and take it. After all that bitching about not being able to go again so soon, he sure had gotten over it quickly…

Moaning louder, you pressed your face up to the side of his to keep yourself from slipping down into the water, and he held you even tighter until you worried he’d leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips. Just to make you whimper, he gave you one particularly rough thrust, as deep as he could go, before he turned to whisper in your ear.

“You better get your ass up and get in that damn bed, woman,” he growled— though you felt him smiling, too.

You sat up and carefully slid off of him, climbing out of the tub and starting to reach for a towel before he tutted disapprovingly and gave you a correctional slap on the bottom.

“Don’t you want me to dry you off first?” you said.

“You know what I want— get in that bed,” he insisted, but he didn’t give you a chance, grabbing you and pushing you down onto the mattress instantly; both of you were dripping wet still, and he purred as your bodies slid together while he got on top of you.

He smiled down at you, that proud glimmer in his eye, as he placed your legs up on his shoulders and leaned down over you; when he slipped inside again, the angle forced his cock so deep that your back had to arch and your mouth fell open into a low moan— he watched your face carefully as he pushed himself to the very end of you.

“That’s my girl,” he purred, “takin’ it so good— still tight as ever, sweetpea…”

Each rock of his hips made you moan louder than the last— all the other girls thought you put on a show for him, but right now, it was all real. He knew how to hit your spot just right, and he loved watching you fall apart under him.

“Y’like that, huh?” he taunted, and you nodded with a gasp. “Your favorite customer’s gonna make you come real hard, baby…”

Sure, he was mostly just being cocky, but he wasn’t wrong— about being your favorite customer or about making you come. You were closer than you should’ve been by now, but watching him make a mess of himself had you all worked up and then he got so aggressive… it was all very overwhelming. Thankfully, from the sound of his hissing breaths in through his teeth, he was pretty close, too. And he had even less of an excuse than you, having just come so recently! But then again, it had been almost a week since you’d last seen him… and neither of you had come since then.

He chuckled when he shifted his hips and you whimpered loudly. “Oh, is that the way you need it? C’mon and say so, then.”

“I— I need it,” you choked, “I need you to fuck me just like that.”

“Yeah?” he egged you on, your fists gripped the sheets beneath you as he moved faster and rougher. The pressure building inside you was sharp and tingly, almost too much to take, but it felt better and better as you gave into it.

“M’so close,” you gasped, “please don’t stop— ah!”

"Tell me whose you are," he grunted.

"Yours, Percy, all yours," you whined, digging your nails into the sheets so hard now that they were at risk of tearing.

"One more time," he groaned, "I'm gonna finish inside— say it one more time, baby—"

"I'm yours," you sobbed, finally feeling him push his hips against you as deep as possible and start to come. He tossed his head back with a whine, the flex of his cock against your walls in time with his heavy pant; as he reached the end of it (it seemed to go on for a while), he sighed and dropped his head down, wet hair hanging loosely around his face. You were about to ask if he enjoyed himself, but he suddenly kissed you— intense, yet relaxed, as he was still catching his breath. You hummed against his lips and kissed him back, lifting your hands to hold his face gently.

Feeling him smile, you laughed quietly when he pulled back and blinked down at you. Something about the way his cheeks were flushed— maybe from just the hot water, maybe from a little more— made his green eyes look even brighter, and you bit your lip.

“You know somethin’, sweetpea?” he breathed. “You look prettiest just after I filled you up.”

He pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed beside you, staring up at the ceiling with that dazed, joyfully-exhausted look on his face. “You’ve told me that before,” you remembered.

“Well, I was right,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Damn, you wear me out… I didn’t think I could go again after you played footsie with my family jewels—”

You snorted at the euphemism, feeling him snuggle up to you and bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“Anybody else gonna see you today?" he asked in a mumble, smirking against your skin. "You better wash all a'me out, or you're gonna have customers complaining about their favorite whore bein' all used up…"

It wasn’t until he said that that you realized you’d been in your little fantasy again, pretending you were Mrs. Dolarhyde and not another soiled dove with bills on the dresser. You sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed, grabbing your robe from where it was draped over a lamp so you could slip it over your shoulders.

“Hey, my time’s not up yet, is it?” he pouted, reaching over to tickle your thigh with his fingertips. “You don’t have to wash up until I leave, right? Just lay here for a while, sweetpea—”

"Do you call me that to try to make me feel bad?" you interrupted, wishing instantly you could’ve just bit your tongue.

“Call you what, ‘sweetpea’?”

“No,” you sighed, turning to face him again as he propped himself up on one elbow. “You always say things like that after— call me a whore and all. You shouldn't be judging me, I might be a whore but you're still quite the loyal fuckin' customer—"

"Woah, hey now," he soothed, raising his hands defensively. "I'm not here to judge, I don't think bein' a whore is anything bad— I mean, shit, far as I see it you ladies are the heroes of the West. Where would good-for-nothing bastards like me be without you?"

"Then what do you say it like that for?" you frowned. "You get sweet on me, then you say something rude— and don't tell me you mean it as a compliment, because I can tell when you mean something as a compliment and when you're just trying to get me all confused…"

"Sweetpea," he breathed, reaching out and pulling you back down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you. "It's not to confuse you. It's me that's confused. Sometimes…"

He sighed and started over, looking away as you blinked up at him expectantly.

"Sometimes, I forget what this is," he admitted with a little shrug, still not looking back at you.

"What is this?" you asked him earnestly, softly.

"It's… a business transaction," he decided. "It's a professional and her client. It's your job."

He looked at you, resting a hand on your waist, and your eyes stared up into his— a strange feeling swirled in your chest, something you remembered distantly as hope. "What else could it be?" you whispered.

He sighed heavily, lifting one hand to your face to brush your damp hair out of the way. "Nothin'," he answered, stroking your cheek with his thumb lightly. "You know that as good as I do. It couldn't be nothin' else but the way you make your money, and the way I spend mine."

You looked down with a little sigh, nodding. “Yeah,” you agreed, “I do know.”

He planted a kiss on your forehead, and you settled into his arms as he held you close. “Can I stay longer today? I think I might fall asleep if you just let me hold you.”

“I have another appointment,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I’ll pay double,” he promised— it wasn’t an offer, he was telling you that he would stay and pay double afterwards, you knew because he was already sighing deeply and sinking into the pillow, moments from drifting off.

“Sleep tight, Percy,” you whispered as you laid your face on his shoulder— you wouldn’t fall asleep, but you could rest your eyes for a while… yeah, that’d be alright.

#percy dolarhyde x reader #percy dolarhyde #paul dano x reader #percy dolarhyde smut

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veras1ne · 8 months

Text

“Malevolent.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Hi My Stars! Sorry I took a short break, as I stated in my previous posts I just haven’t been doing well mentally and started to focus my energy on different things but I believe I have reached a balance and feel ready to take on writing again.

˗ˏˋWith that being said this post is dedicated to THIS ask! I hope I did. your request justice Nonnie because this was truly a fun experience to write!!´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS🪷: This is your warning for the following NSFW content: PIV Sex, not explicitly stated consent, ❗️CONSENTUAL, I do not write non-con, it’s just not what I’m comfortable with. ❗️Slapping, Cum Stuffing, Squirting, Choking, Degrading, Rough Sex.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳🫧Pairing: Luke Skywalker x AFAB!Reader

*ೃ༄ I am NOT responsible for the content you consume or view! Read responsibly!! 🫶🏻

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Summary🕊️: Just pure smut, quite literally nothing else, no plot, nothing, just.. disgusting sex with Luke Skywalker.

"Look at me when I speak to you. His hot breath fanned against your cheek; his voice was callous and angry. "You hear me? Look at me.” Your eyes met with his towering over your frail body; the once gentle touches he provided your body with were replaced with harsh grabs that formed bruises on your cold skin.Hot tears began to form and fall against your cheeks.

Your sobs echoed in the room as he grabbed a handful of your hair. You bit back a scream, but it was only a whisper instead of a yell. He pulled you closer until your faces were barely inches apart from his own.

Your nose grazed his lips as you looked up at him with watery eyes; your lips were pink and swollen from his violent kisses, and the purple hues on your neck matched the angry scratch you had left on his back due to his hours of torture as he tore apart your pussy, licking and nipping at your clit.

It was the first time he had done such things to you; however, after this, you were sure that it wouldn’t be the last. His rough hands grabbed your wrists as Luke took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and scraping his teeth across your sensitive nerves.

You writhed on the bed, screaming incoherently as your mind became consumed by images of his dick entering your pussy while he rutted against the sheets, seeking pleasure while providing you with pain mixed with indulgence and elation. The image burned like fire, making you feel as if you would die. It made your stomach churn, and his hand clasped against your throat, constricting the airflow and making you gasp for air. Your newly released hands grasped Luke’s face, pulling his lips to meet yours, swallowing each other's pleasure and the sounds of nirvana.

The feeling of his lips caressing your mouth caused you to whimper as your hips bucked beneath him, begging him to give you what you so desperately wanted. His cock was the one thing you could no longer go without; you needed it, and you needed it terribly. But the feeling didn’t last long.

His tongue swiped against yours, forcing your parted lips open as his fat cock began to stretch your walls, his length providing a simply stinging sensation that you only craved more and more as he thrust up, rutting into your pussy. The smell of sex filled the room, causing your head to spin and your eyes to roll back.His scent intoxicated your senses, and you felt your inner walls tighten around his dick as his thick cock throbbed in an almost desperate need to come out of your cunt.

You moaned, grabbing a handful of his sandy hair and pulling his strands harshly.

His hands dropped from your hips to the headboard, his right coming down and opening your sore mouth with his fingers. "You’re such a disgusting slut, letting me torture your pussy and choke you out? This is all you’ve ever wanted, huh?" His voice sounded gruff and low; it sent shivers down your spine. "You're such a fucking whore; I bet you've never even been touched like this before. Nobody could ever fuck a disgusting whore like you like I could." His hand slipped from your mouth, cupping your mouth to keep it open and spitting down your throat. "You better swallow that. You should be grateful I would ever give my spit to a slut such as yourself." He squeezed your breast roughly, earning another painful cry from your lips. "That got you to look at me, didn’t it? Good job, you did one thing right."He shoved your face against the mattress, forcing your head downward as he forced himself further inside of you. You felt your body quiver with every movement he made. “Luke, please. Please make me cum, please." Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued his actions, using you as a sick dumpster for his cum and a doll for him to play with when he needs relief.

You cried out, your eyes closed, as his hand came across your cheek, slapping you and sending shocks through your bruised body as he fucked you harder and harder, his hard cock pulsating inside of you, filling you with pure ecstasy as you felt the orgasm building. “You want to cum? Fine. Cum, bitch." His words seemed to burn in your head.The pressure increased inside of you; his cock was pounding faster and harder, pressing against your cervix and causing you to tremble violently.

You screamed as you climaxed, your body trembling uncontrollably as you tried to control your breathing. Your squirt sprayed his thighs and chest as you convulsed against his body, writhing under his hands and turning your head to watch him with eyes full of ecstasy as they rolled back, your cream mixing with your squirt to create a disgusting mixture. He removed himself from your throbbing hole, fetching the pants he had stored in his pockets earlier.

He lined himself up with the center of your worn underwear that was wet with your slick, jerking his cock as he came on your undergarments, tainting it with thick ropes of his own release, sweat dripping down his chest, and coating his hair with salt.

"There we go. That wasn’t too bad, was it?“ His words were soft as he ran a hand through your messy hair, his tone now tender as he pulled you up and onto your knees, pulling your body to rest against his. He wiped the remnants of your cum off your body as you looked up at him in exhaustion but with a smile, his hands holding your body as he put on your cum-stained panties back onto your cunt, shoving his fingers through the sheer fabric and stuffing his cum inside the shallow end of your pussy.

"You’re such a dick baby." You rested your hand on his thigh, listening to his fast heartbeat.

"Oh, but who was the one begging for mine?"

#veras1ne #star wars #star wars x reader #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker headcanon #luke skywalker x y/n

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clitorises · 2 months

Note

Comparing spicy food to domestic violence...bad take lol. Why is a man beating you so he can orgasm better than beating you in general? It's worse. If a man slits your wrists because you asked, is that OK? You people are mentally ill.

A radfem in my inbox? Who didn’t bother to read my blog before messaging me? On anon, no less? What a surprise. Alright, let’s dance: I’ll point out your small mistakes before we move on to the big one 🖤

1. I’m a dominant. Nobody is beating me, unless, of course, I order them to.

2. I’m a lesbian. No man is coming near me, let alone COMING near me. Gross.

Alright, now that that’s out of the way: your concept of what BDSM is appears to be sadly informed only by Fifty Shades (Powerful Man Hits Helpless Woman!!!) which is… not reflective of the realities of this lifestyle. “Negotiation,” or talking to a potential partner about what you both want, is a bedrock of these relationships. You can find plenty example of yes-no-maybe checklists on the internet or in books—it’s quite common for partners to fill out a checklist of this type and compare them. Anything that anyone has marked “no” on is off the table-

“But wait!” you say, as I mention consent, “Men don’t care about consent! Men watch violent porn and reenact it on women! Men prey on women who are seeking BDSM relationships in order to abuse them!”

Well. Yeah. You’re right. This is not because of some innate evil in BDSM. This is because our patriarchal culture is built on male entitlement. Like… come on. I will point you to one of your own philosophies, the rules of misogyny, and I will speak to you in your own language:

I, a dyke, who is fascinated by the intersection of pleasure and pain and have been incorporating it into my sex life since it began, have nothing to do with men abusing women in any context. Period. What I do with other lesbians does not perpetuate male violence. Males perpetuate male violence. I KNOW you know this. Do not waltz into my inbox pretending ignorance. I will not pretend ignorance either: BDSM is risky on its own, and that risk increases exponentially for women who seek male partners in the scene. I love those women and do what I can to protect them. I will not, however, change my approach to sex or my general hedonistic philosophies just because men use BDSM to hurt women. If I never engaged with anything a man has used to hurt a woman, I would spend my life doing a whole lot of nothing.

Alright, that’s quite enough of that. Back to negotiation and consent: As a dominant, I’ve found that much more of my time is spent being told a submissive’s dangerous fantasies, and figuring out how to take them as close as I can get them to their desires without actually hurting them. Choking (or, more accurately, strangulation) is a great example of this. Many submissives actively desire that helpless feeling, that light-headed euphoria. I, however, do not want to kill any of my beloved’s precious braincells. So we negotiate, experiment, and find ways to achieve what they want without doing anything that I mark as too dangerous. But that’s just one example: any potential act is discussed in detail before a scene begins. Either partner gets to say no to anything during these discussions, and during sex as well, just like in vanilla sex.

My spicy food metaphor was silly, but it has a grain of truth to it—things that hurt can feel good, too. Contact sports, roller coasters, skydiving or BASE jumping, bouldering or ice climbing, even running marathons, are all things that are scary, painful, dangerous, or carry risk. Humans do them anyway. We love doing them. I love doing them. And you are not going to change my mind by strawmanning in my inbox. See you around.

#asked and answered

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sammyboyimagines · 1 year

Note

Hey baby, so here I am submitting my lil application for a Billy x plus size reader NSFW headcanons as promised <3

Ly *forehead kisses*

//hey darling!! so sorry this took so long, I really hope you like it. It was very fun to write. tysm for the request, ily! *mwah*

warnings: 18+, minors leave right now or so help me. choking, rough, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, etc.

let's start off stong! Billy is slightly loud in bed. Not moaning though, he growls, grunts- manly noises. Definitely not as loud as you, but he doesn't hesitate to hold back his little grunts and panting.

Hate sex. Angry sex. Billy gets home from a rough day and the only cure is to bend you over the dining room table as he takes you from behind.

Furthermore, he likes to spank you, not always as a punishment. He likes seeing your ass jiggle underneath his palm when he smacks it. He'd smack your thick thighs if you got impatient from his merciless teasing of your overused pussy. overstim king,

He likes to be in control. He likes to tell you exactly what he wants you to do. He absolutely adores seeing you a mess underneath him, you're fucked out face following his every order.

That being said, Billy does have moments when he's very gentle. When he's tired or feeling especially lovey. In moments like this, he'll pull you into bed with him, and spoon you for a little while, his dick pressed against your ass, big hands resting on your hip, and occasionally running his hands up and down your thighs. This would be the only time he'd use a spooning sex position when he craves close intimacy.

"look at me while I'm fucking you" ahdhbehbkhf-

Definitely likes to degrade you a little, BIG on manhandling you.

calls you "slut" and "whore" in the bedroom and then "sweetheart" or "doll" outside of the bedroom.

He likes to pretend that you don't have a huge effect on him, but it's glaringly obvious when he's rock-hard during movie night after you laid your head in his lap.

He ties you up and that's when he takes his time worshipping your body. He fucking loves your body, it's all he can think about as soon as he gets home. Hell, he can hardly focus on anything because the thought of you fills his senses. He loves it.

Also lives for ripping your clothes off, bra, shirt, anything. Expensive or not, he's gonna rip it right off.

Probably ties you up as a punishment. Definitely keeps a pair of handcuffs in his nightstand drawer along with his condoms

The dude probably keeps a vibrator in there to use on you, he uses it to tease you to near tears.

Billy makes sure you're comfortable with everything he does, he frequently asks if you're okay, whether you're tied up or in missionary.

Speaking of positions, Billy likes anything where he can see your face. He loves seeing the look on your face as you cum, it drives him crazy.

He is probably a little bit of a masochist. His grip is so tight that it leaves bruises, but he always has your consent before doing so.

Billy overstimulates you. "c'mon, give me one more"

"be a good slut for me, give me one more." he never lets himself cum without you going first.

He loves your moans, and any noises you make. It drives him insane to hear the effect his fingers or his cock have on you. He could probably come from just hearing your pretty sounds.

Billy is an ass man, nobody can convince me he isn't.

He slaps your ass any chance he gets, whether it be at school, in public, or sitting at home.

Furthermore, you can hardly sit next to him without him pulling you into his lap. He knows it's perverted but he loves the feeling of your ass on his dick at any moment.

Humiliation!! BIG on humiliation. "you made such a mess", "clean it up for me, slut". omgfhfhfhhf-

King of edging. He could edge you for an hour, praising you every time he denied you of your pleasure. He teases you until you cry sometimes. dacryphilia maybe...

Loves your stomach, curves, everything. On days when he's craving intimacy, he'd leave wet messy kisses down your neck all the way to your pussy before eating you out, making sure to give extra attention to your stomach, breasts, and thighs.

Loves fucking you fast, hearing and feeling his hips hit your thighs and ass.

Janitor's closet sex, he can't wait, and he skips class with you to have some fun.

Loves blowjobs. He grabs your hair, almost always leading to him practically face fucking you, drool coming out of your mouth as you gag on his cock. it drives him crazy every time.

He's very much attached at the hip, and very clingy once he figures out his feelings.

Public sex. He'll sit in the back of the class with a hand on your thigh, slowly inching it up to your pussy.

"be a good little whore and be quiet for me, doll". wow, i-

Rough, hard, angry sex when he has any inconvenience.

Grabs your jaw to kiss you. And if you're comfortable with it, he'll hold your neck gently as he fucks you.

Sex everywhere, shower, kitchen counter, dining room table, car, bedroom, etc. Wherever he can.

He likes to mark you up and prove to everyone that you're his.

//i'm sorry this was so short, but I really hope you like it! xoxo

#billy hargove imagine #billy x reader #billy hargove x reader #stranger things netflix #stranger things #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x plus size

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acescavern · 8 months

Text

M.LIST

『WELCOME TO ACE'S CAVERN』

a (angst), f (fluff), s (smut), m (mature), c (crack/humor), v (violence)

『NCT DREAM』

↳ SCENARIO 1 - Mark Lee x gn!reader

(S)

wc; 1,073

Anon said 'imagine giving mark head when he's playing games tho' and i ran with it

↳ (NEW!) HOW YOU LOVE HIM - Mark Lee x Reader

based on an ask.

(F,S)

wc; 1,734

ask: 'thinking about taking care of mark after his schedules with warm bath and massages…started all soft until mark gets hard and it turns into a steamy bathroom sex'

↳ QUIET - Lee Jeno x Fem!Reader - College au (ft. nct dream)

(S,C)

wc; 2,329

When the night gets cold whilst camping with your friends, Jeno knows a great way to warm up or It's fucking in-tents

↳ GAME OVER - Lee Jeno x Fem!reader - College au - Add on to 'Quiet', (ft. nct dream, mentions of ten, hendery, xiaojun, johnny, jaehyun.)

(S, F, C, light A)

wc; 2,698

When your boyfriend invites you over to his place only to ignore you to play games with his friends all evening, you decide to go out and celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday instead. Jeno never minds when you go out to clubs and bars… only when a specific Loverboy doesn’t tend to leave your side all evening.

↳ SET ME FREE (TEASER) - Intern!Mark Lee x Mermaid!Reader - Set in the College au universe. (ft. brief mentions of nct dream, Minho from shinee is a professor) CANCELLED

(F,A,M)

wc; tbc

After managing to score an internship with a local science program, Mark soon discovers that the company he chose to work for does more harm than good. Especially, when he stumbles across the tank where you're held captive by your makers whilst trying to find the canteen. Mark sneaks in to sit with you every lunch break after that whilst he tries to devise a plan to set you free.

↳ OPERATION RIZZ - Na Jaemin x Fem!Reader - Set in the college au universe. (Ft. Yangyang, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno, and mentions of other nct members, nct dream are the friend group, the Jeno and his girlfriend mentioned are the same pairings from Quiet and Game over!)

(F,A,C)

wc; 7.8k

In an attempt to teach Donghyuck how to get a girlfriend, Jaemin helps him make a list only... that list seems awfully familiar.

『NCT 127』

(NEW!) ↳ END TO START - Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader ( focus). ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

(A,F,M)

wc; 4.9k

Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

『ATEEZ』

↳ (NEW!) Where are you, San? - San x fem! reader

(f, s, m)

wc; 4,825

Genre: Pure smut. No plot whatsoever. There is a sprinkling of fluff if you squint?

Synopsis: Your boyfriend invites you to the fancy dress party his frat are holding to celebrate the frats birthday. Only, nobody will tell you what he's dressed as. When you spend half of the party searching for him, Jongho gives away his location.. you're in for a night of fun. One question though, Do you like scary movies?

↳ BLURB 1 - Song Mingi x gn!reader

( F )

wc; n/a

↳ PRAYER FOR HALATIA - OT8! x Fem!reader - Apocalyptic au, survival.

( A,M,V ) PT 1

multiple parts - on hold

Halatia, incorporates an appreciation for people, a love of music and the arts, and a high regard for nature, its mysteries and beauties.

#Acescavern masterlist #nct #nct dream #ateez #atz #NCT 127 #NCT U

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taekeofyourclothes · 1 year

Text

you keep me open. (for)

pairing v x reader conspectus "you're the only one who's holding me down..." a true blue tale between two beautiful hearts that wanted the best for the other word count 0.6k words notes inspired by szas' open arms :")) extremely pessimistic and negative beginning - SLIGHT ANGST ... be warned! this is a work of fiction but feel free to relish in the delusion lmao, look out for grammatical errors and possibly confusing structuring of sentences - my english is still fair so please go easy on me lol. please don't distribute my writings without my consent dearests!! feedback and criticisms are welcome and read well <3

at the back of your mind, there'll always be that voice repeatedly reminding you of how worthless and pathetic you come across. thoughts that'd revoke the smile on your face and dissolve your passionate outlook on the world, it was a conundrum - having plentiful ambition yet lacking the capacity to obtain even a miniscule taste of your dreams. you could even say it was paradoxical for it truly was - however, all of these insecurities and uneasiness.. they all seem to dissipate each time taehyung was around, he'd ease all your worries somehow as if they never were there every damn time.

and the more he continued to be next to you had you in a world of no more worrying about how you came across, it had you living in heaven on earth and you couldn't be more grateful. and it's so wonderful to look back on how back then you'd be choking on all these impossible ideas of yourself - ones that forced to put you in a high above everything else pedestal that nobody asked of you but yourself, ones that said you had to look a certain way that your hair had to look like this and your body should look like that when in truth the only people who'd give a single care about that was nobody. and god, it took you so long to realize that - but thank god, for helping you see it finally just with a little help from a loving friend like taehyung.

it was funny now but it warms your heart in pride how you went from that dark place in your life to getting back on your feet and freeing yourself of the chains that held you back from your truest self and you were glad alright to have him help you out with this journey, who would've thought it to go this way? it went from him talking to a brick wall to slowly hearing your silent voice hoping to be heard and him encouraging you to speak up to the brick wall with time breaking and being brought down to being together. you were worth it, he'd say - the man always had a way with his words. he scared off all your fears and proudly helped you carry all of your emotional baggage, he eased your heart to let you let yourself be open - it all came from a safe place, he loved you from the start and you loved him more. infact, you loved taehyung so so much - you had to open up yourself to the reality that he deserved better.

the idea baffled him, you were already the best. you were the one for him, you were the love of his life, and you were y/n - his forever ride. and you were so heartbroken to see that but you had to let him go, "don't push me away y/n... please." he begged on his knees teary-eyed, you tried to stand him up but taehyung wouldn't budge and so you had to kneel with him and hold his face to assure him.. "i'm not.. tae, you? i.. come on, i could never push you away.." you shake your head in full honestly looking deeply into his eyes where you could read how he'd lost you but he didn't.. he could never lose you.. "i'll always be here.. but you deserve more." he shook his head at that his eyes now spilling out tears so dissapointed in himself seeing you feel this way about your love, but he understood - this was who you are, he always did even if it didn't want it, because this wasn't about him. though it didn't hurt him to try say "you're more than e-enough, y/nie" he did his best not to stutter and smile knowing there'd be nothing to change your mind.. and nothing would, you love taehyung so much and it'll destroy you to see him get the love that he deserves but that was fine, you could say that's the greatest love of all... letting go.

this was for the best.

#taekeofyourclothes #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #kim taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung fanfic #bts #bts taehyung #v #thv

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wellthebardsdead · 1 year

Text

Final follow up from the last post ~bambi

———

Kaidan: *readying his gear to go save Marigold* They’ll be expecting us, but there’s a tunnel out the back of the building, Marigolds already killed the frost troll in there, if we sneak through fast enough we can find him surely.

Inigo: what if the guards have blocked it off?

Kaidan: I’ll cut them down. I’m not letting anybody get in my way-

*KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!*

Lucien: *answers the door to see Legate Rikke standing there, and beside her Marigold, flanked by a few imperial guardsmen*

Marigold: *visibly shaking, only dressed in a sheet and a blanket one of the guards gave him* Lucy…

Legate: Forgive me for the late hour but we found the dragonborn at the edge of the city, undressed, disoriented and… violated… he directed us to this building as his estate.

Lucien: Y-yes commander this is his home! Thank you- *gently leads marigold inside* thank you.

Legate: He, mentioned the dominion were the ones responsible.

Lucien: Yes. One named Ancano took him without reason stating they’d both been engaged to one another but Marie didn’t consent.

Legate: Thank you, I knew the dragonborn wouldn’t be in such a state without reason. I’ll inform the General. Goodnight citizen. *bows her head and steps away*

Lucien: *closes the door and hugs the high elf tight* MARIGOLD!!

Marigold: *starts crying, dropping to his knees* I- he- Kaidan I- I’m so sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry-

Kaidan: *lifts him up kissing his cheek and holding him tight* shhh, it’s okay, it’s alright love. Don’t cry, I’m here, I’m here darling…

Taliesin: *limps over, whole body sore and back covered in deep scars from several whip marks* Marie…

Marigold: *sobbing* T-tally! *cries hugging onto him*

Taliesin: *pulls him close, nuzzling him as the other elf nuzzles back being mindful of his antlers* it’s okay, you’re safe now petal, I’m here, big brothers here…

Marigold: *sobs* are you okay?

Taliesin: I am… Are you okay?

Marigold: no… but I will be… I just need time…

Taliesin: okay… *suddenly flicks the other elf’s ear* What were you thinking?! Handing yourself over like that?! You could have died!

Marigold: YOU COULD HAVE DIED! If I didn’t come to save you I- I’d never forgive myself!

Taliesin: Who cares if I die?! I’m nobody now! Everyone who loved me thinks I’m dead! Now I’m just Taliesin! You’re the dragonborn! Everyone will be sad if you die!

Marigold: ID CARE IF YOU DIED!!! *chokes back a sob* YOURE MY FRIEND YOU BIG IDIOT! YOURE OUR FRIEND!

Taliesin: *looks at him, then the rest of the group as they gather around* oh… *starts tearing up again* m-my friends… my… my family…

*meanwhile*

Ancano: *pulls himself out of the burning rubble of the thalmor embassy* That’s it Marigold… *clenches his jaw, lightning crackling in his hands* Youre coming back home. Whether you like it, or not.

#skyrim #ancano skyrim #skyrim taliesin #Kaidan skyrim #lucien flavius #marigold dragonborn #altmer dragonborn

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punemy-spotted · 2 years

Text

A Worthy Grave - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Everybody Dies Alone

Pairing: Federal Agent!Ari Levinson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS A HORROR FIC, True Crime Elements, Police Procedural Elements, Possibly a little Twin Peaks, Violence, Murder, Death, Flayed Bodies, Ghosts, Ghouls, Violence Against Women, Violence Against Random Hikers, The Woods are Dangerous, Serial Killers, Choking, Gutting, Witchcraft, Blood, Appalachian Gothic Horror, Eventual Smut, Plot with Porn

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts. And sometimes they call your name.

O Mother It is that fear that moves both heart and tongue To draw tight curtains so that we might let the darker hours pass unseen. We hear you call in the deepest night. We hear you call to us in voices that belong to our dead and gone And we know better, but we follow you into The darkened woods all the same.

— Old Gods of Appalachia Episode 31: Season 3 Prologue

Notes: I’M BACK, BITCHES. This fic is a sort of direct sequel to Glory, Amen, so keep that in mind as you read it, except I decided to include MORE CE babes into this fic and may also include other CE babes in the future. This is gonna be more Twin Peaks inspired than anything else, and I hope you enjoy it! I crave feedback, so tell me what you think!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts, and these mountains in particular — being the oldest mountains in the world — have the type of ghosts that predate the very humanity the spine of this land is afflicted with. The type of ghosts that — if you’re good and careful, if you find the right gaps ‘tween then and now t’slip between, say the right words to invite ‘em into your space — might just come pay you a visit.

Other times, you don’t gotta say shit.

These woods’ll keep you safe, if you keep ‘em safe, your momma would warn you with all the gravity of a stormcloud, wrist-deep in the rich black earth of her garden, digging out root vegetables and other sorts of magic from that treasure trove of life she’d spent more years cultivating than you’d actually been alive, This mountain will sustain you proper, if you sustain it.

These woods are deep and dark an’ full of the type of demons even your daddy’s Bible would have been scared to name, but you are the blood of both an’ your momma feared no man, woman, or haint in these or any mountains.

Which is why, when the specter shows up on your front porch, screamin’ for blood an’ justice, all you do is give her a name and offer her a plate of cornbread she’d never actually be able to eat.

Stops the screaming though.

Trouble with small towns — especially small towns in mountains like yours — is that sometimes, people go missing. People take walks out in the woods, fall into some mineshaft the State forgot to tag or get got by some apex predator lookin’ to prove just how wild God’s own country really is. People get lost, people just plain die. Nine times outta ten, nobody finds the body but the beasts an’ eventually nobody looks, all chalkin’ the loss up to some mountain sacrifice.

Blood for blood, what you make, I will take.

You’re no stranger to death — Hell, Cocke County coroner, you might almost call it your life’s work — but some parts of the job you could do without.

Parts which occasionally — and currently — include a sobbing woman sittin’ translucent an’ bloody in your kitchen.

You call her Janey, on account of the Jane Doe #117 title stamped on the manila folder sittin’ in your office, the one with the photos of a body that probably once belonged to the unsettled soul you’d invited inside and offered a sacrifice of fresh-baked bread. It ain’t her real name, but that’s what the boys over at Park Services are still trynna find out.

Ain’t nothin’ I can do about your body, honey, you tell her, sitting across from the glum-faced woman and trying to decipher the words she means to say between the static that just can’t stop pouring from that hollowed-out mouth.

Your daddy tried teachin’ you the language of the other side, all deep snarls an’ buzzin’ shadows, but sometimes it’s the words that manage to spill out that tell the truth, those last vestiges of humanity bubbling bloody an’ baleful from a tongueless mouth before death takes its last due.

You know her secrets.

You know she wore heels more than hiking shoes. You know she’s not from these mountains, not anywhere near these small towns. You scraped the dirt from under her fingernails and know she fought to survive with everything she had and you know, gut-sinkin’ and stomach churning, that she was not the first body her killer left behind.

You know you could write her name out on your paperwork and give her family some peace, tell ‘em she didn’t run away, tell ‘em she loved ‘em more than anything in the world.

You know you could tell her boyfriend she wasn’t cheating on him, that the man who picked her up and left her here for the beasts to find was someone she thought she could trust. You could tell her momma she was comin’ home from a good job, that she stopped drinkin’ four months ago, that therapy was goin’ well and she was gettin’ better. You could give her daddy a body to bury long before its time, an’ if this were the Holler you grew up in, you know that would be that.

But it ain’t, so nothin’s ever over, and now you’ve gotta figure out how to prove this shit.

You pour yourself a fourth cup of coffee, watching your cornbread offering slowly begin to mold, decay following death as it must always do. You gotta give me something to go off of for the Feds, honey.

You get static in return.

Well. That and the shrill ring of your landline, that old rotary thing you bought from a thrift shop on the other side of the state, kept connected just in case the towers don’t reach you through the early morning mist.

There’s only one goddamn asshole who’d call you on it at six in the goddamn morning.

You ever sleep, Levinson?

Could ask you the same thing, Doc, how long you been up?

Clockwork. The same conversation you’ve had every morning since Ari Levinson transferred from some national park you didn’t give a damn about up north, his drawl about as much a part of your morning routine as coffee and keeping Goatrude out of your vegetable garden.

You want something, Levinson, or you just callin’ to ask about my sleepin’ habits?

What, can’t check in on you, Doc? You can almost hear the casual smugness in his voice, imagining the way he might speak around the cigarette he’s probably smoking at too-early-in-the-morning, I got an update on Jane Doe. You need to get out here.

The grind of gravel tells you just how much choice you have in the matter, your houseguest disappearing the moment she realizes you are not about to be alone for much longer, Jesus, Levinson, you gotta give a lady some warning, you slam down the receiver with a satisfying sound, grabbing the thoroughly-molded cornbread and throwing the plate wholesale into the bin and dumping the rest of your coffee pot into a thermos, listening for the sound of his engine roaring to a stop as you rush through the rest of your morning.

You grab your bag as you leave, stalking your way down the gravel walk and flashing Ari Levinson — parked halfway up the driveway and mercifully blocked further by Goatrude doin’ her best guard dog impression — a hard glare in response to his lazy grin, One day I’m gonna have you arrested for trespassin’, you threaten as you get into the too-fancy-for-a-city-slicker truck he drives.

He doesn’t say a word as you get in, just turns the key in the ignition and with a wink and backs away from Goatrude threatening to headbutt his front bumper.

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the scene, where your crew and work truck are already waiting, jumpsuit and booties prepared for you to pull on before you’re allowed past that yellow tape and allowed to face the scene before you.

And just what the Hell m’I supposed to do here?

Well, Doc, I’m pretty sure you’d say the next step’s the autopsy, Agent Ari Levinson, Park Services Investigation Division — or whatever the hell that formal title is that he handed off to the poor rookie trying to keep curious hikers away from the yellow tape — saunters up behind you, his cigarette put out so as not to contaminate the crime scene, taking it in with you.

Helluva scene too, with its most pertinent part — for you, right now — currently including a body layin’ pretty as a picture on a flat slab of rock, eyes closed and lips blue, naked as the day it was born.

Which all would’ve been fine, save for the lungs, kidneys, liver and contents of a final meal neatly poured from a stomach into a tupperware container and placed around the meatsack-that-had-once-been-a-human-being like an offering to some great and terrible mortician God.

If you got all the answers, Agent Obvious, you wanna explain to me just how the hell I’m supposed to autopsy a body that’s already been done?

Oh, we got a whole lot better than that. You contemplate turning him into a crime scene with your own gloved hands as he turns, gesturing towards the far side of the slab, just past the edge of a cluster of trees, where two of your staff stand with two large black dogs seated patiently in wait.

Surrounding a lump hidden by a big white sheet.

You can guess what’s underneath that sheet even before they remove it, like every shitty horror film you’ve seen. A chunk of meat vaguely shaped like a human, wearing none of its features, nothing identifiable ‘cept raw. meat.

We’ve been callin’ it Jekyll and Hyde all morning, Ari Levinson tells you, Deputy coroner’s fifty yards back dry heaving, so we—

Y’all brought in the big guns. Don’t tell me — that’s the same body.

Got it in one.

You close your eyes for a moment and take several breaths before looking at the scene once again, trying not to curse yourself or your momma for the way your day’s turned.

You got any more bad news for me, or am I allowed to start gettin’ in there and doing my job?

You try to ignore the way Ari Levinson’s gaze holds yours… and the way Jane Doe #117 shows up from over his shoulder, her hollow-mouthed scream silenced the moment the Agent starts to speak again, We got an ID on last week’s vic.

The thing about names is how much power they hold. Your daddy took his name, stole it off the corpse of a man too broken with hunger to protest. Your momma abandoned hers, becoming more of a title than a name, markin’ herself as matriarch an’ Queen of the verdant kingdom she clawed out from the hands of the ungrateful and the undeserving. Both of ‘em agonized over yours, planting seeds of bloom and prosperity in every theoretical letter before they finally settled on somethin’ proper.

Only for you to change it the moment you were old enough to move outta the family home, disappear to the big city an’ make a name for yourself, choosin’ to hide any connection you had to that Holler you called home, not outta shame but outta knowing.

And now it’s back. Starin’ at you from the ID card of a once-unidentified murder victim who’d spent your morning destroying a plate of your favorite cornbread recipe while her physical form remained in stasis in your morgue.

Rogers.

Bein’ the daughter of the town pastor and the town witch came easy for you, just like it did all your sisters. But outside the boundaries of the Holler where everybody knew to respect Ma an’ Pastor Rogers, you knew your family’s ghosts would be all too happy to eat you right up.

Ari Levinson brings you a cup of coffee as you step outside the cold storage of your morgue, looking a bit like you’d seen a ghost and like you’d suddenly regressed to being afraid of them. Alright, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers, but you have the good sense to nod your head and busy your mouth with scalding itself on fresh-brewed water somebody whispered about coffee to. Somebody contact her next of kin? You haven’t gotten used to saying her real name, your real name, so instead you just gesture vaguely at the morgue behind you, hoping the agent will have enough sense to use context clues and get to the point.

Thankfully, he does. Family’s coming down tomorrow. Folks live in North Dakota — got no idea how their girl ended up down here. Dad kept askin’.

You tell ‘em we got no idea?

You really think my bedside manner’s that bad, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers.

You continue to have the good sense to not respond, leaving Ari Levinson looking slightly more than insulted as you pretend to have heard your office phone ringing and walk right back into the icebox.

That night, the spirit formerly known as Jane Doe #117 comes with a friend. John Doe #43 is… less pleasant lookin’ than the girl whose ID he had hidden inside his flayed jaw, eyeless face staring at you from your kitchen window and tapping on the glass to be let in.

You don’t. Victims of violence like that come with haints attached to ‘em and you’re not about to invite that into your home. The offering of cornbread is left on your back porch instead, with a light left on so he wouldn’t get lost on his way to a meal that didn’t consist of Cliff bars and spinach tortellini. It doesn’t stop his knocking though, insistin’ that your presence alone is enough reason to get in here. That the door is only a few steps away.

As if you’ll risk getting hurt by this ghost who probably won’t even remember attacking you.

Maybe he’s the one that attacked her, maybe he never even saw her, maybe he just wants the same comfort she must’ve craved during her final minutes on this Earth, or maybe he’s just a figment of your imagination as you ruminate on why the idea of a dead girl sharin’ your old last name — not an uncommon last name either, owned by more than a hundred thousand people in the country alone — bothers you so goddamn much.

Whatever the case, you won’t open the door for him, not now. Not ever. You just keep your charms on you when you step outside and feed the goat before lockin’ up the house and going upstairs to go to bed, biddin’ them both goodnight and, We’ll do our best.

The knock on your front door comes not long after midnight, loud enough it echoes all the way to your bedroom, persistent and steady as a drum.

And when you don’t respond at first, it keeps right on banging on the damn thing until you’re convinced you’ll soon see a fist makin’ a dent through that thin wood as the sound becomes a steady pounding.

Doc! Doc, it’s Ari, you gotta let me in.

You’ve heard of haints makin’ mimics of voices, memories, an’ hell, even whole faces of both the living and the dead, so you know better than to fling that door wide open and let him in to see you in your nightclothes before he’s ever even bought you a damn dinner, but that tone of voice he bears chills you to the bone somehow.

Doc, I know you’re in there, you gotta—

Prove it’s you.

What?

You heard me. Tell me somethin’ only Ari Levinson would know I know about him.

Oh c’mon, Doc. I don’t fuckin’ know. Do you even know my birthday?

Okay, so he’s got a point. You don’t admit that.

Fine, fine. What’s the hurry, couldn’t this have waited ‘til tomorrow?

Ari Levinson looks half-wild as you let him in, glancing outside briefly to see the flayed figure of your most recent unwanted visitor still seated mutely on the porch, cornbread rotted to dust and Goatrude holding him at bay. The Agent either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, eyes fixed on you instead, You got a gun?

Got a gu— the hell sorta shit are you up to, Levinson?!

His lips curl back from his teeth in a sort of grimace before he turns, glancing out your front windows and then back at you, You know you have a skinless corpse on your porch?

Oh, so he noticed.

I’ve been trynna ignore it. That’s besides the point, the fuck are you doing out here and why do I need a gun?!

Personal protection, why else? There’s two dead bodies less than ten miles out from your property, Doc, or did you not notice?

The point. You need him to get to the point, and you might actually kill him if he doesn’t, arms crossed over your chest and trying not to let your scowl get too deep. Please don’t tell me you came all the way over to my house just to tell me to use protection.

No, it’s cuz I figured out how to measure distances, he retorts, before… drawing himself up to his full height and letting his jaw set properly, Fine. You gotta promise not to say I’m crazy first though.

Not crazy, says the crazy motherfucker bangin’ on my front door at one in the goddamn morning. You take in the seriousness of his glare for a moment, processing how many times you’ve actually seen him be serious before, Fine. Fine, I got a skinless guy on my porch anyway. Nothin’s gonna beat that.

Famous last words, you know, as you head to your kitchen to start up coffee. There’s no sleep to be had for you tonight.

So you’re tellin’ me you’re the one who found this morning’s corpse?

You watch him, stirring about three tablespoons worth of honey into your coffee in a vain attempt to use the added sugar in your caffeine to stay awake, watch the way his eyes glance askance like he could hide the gears turning in his head, coming up with an excuse for his confession that doesn’t sound as insane as he feels.

You got no idea, you almost tell him, but it’s almost funnier to watch him sweat.

I was investigating a hunch on… the girl, he’s as used to calling her Jane Doe as you are, the name slipping from his mind.

You don’t tell him you appreciate it it.

A hunch. What, you got an informant I don’t know about?

He looks sheepish, which is new for a man you didn’t know had any concept of shame, I told you not to call me crazy, Doc.

So you did. Fine. Just go over this again for me — you went out lookin’ for clues on the Jane Doe cuz you just… thought you missed somethin’, four miles away from where they found her body?

I said I went to the crime scene, Doc. And then I walked for four miles… on a hunch.

You’re going to need more coffee.

Well. Gotta hand it to you, Levinson, you weren’t wrong on that one.

See? Told you. Found the body, but knew I wasn’t gonna be able to justify why the fuck I was out at the ass-crack of dawn, four miles away from the scene and following a hunch so…

So you just got lucky with the hikers comin’ up the way?

He nods, dragging his tongue along the inside of his cheek while he chews over what to say next, looking both thoughtful and displeased, Figured I’d be investigating the scene anyway, any bootprints I had could be explained later.

You have to hand it to him, he did think it out. You sit back, listening to him continue, go on about calling you to the scene — helps to call your partner out, you suppose — and then going back to both scenes to figure out the connection between the dead girl and the skinless meatsack.

Figured that if it worked once, it’d work for Flayed Doe over there, so I just… walked. Followed the hunch, and ended up here—

The Flayed fucker’s been here since sundown — it happens.

You eye him, watching the way he doesn’t react to your casual explanation of why there’s a skinless corpse on your front porch, measuring his words, letting coffee scald your tongue and pretending it doesn’t bother you none as you consider how much you should believe him.

Or how much of his own grave you should let him dig.

You’re pretty calm about the dead guy, Ari’s voice is halfway to an accusation, watching you right back as he processes, measures you up, weighs the way you glance past his shoulder to the thing still knocking at your window and the girl still hiding from the agent in your kitchen.

You don’t answer, not right away, grabbing the biscuit jar and half-slamming it down on the table between the two of you instead, figuring you’ll both need something to fill your bellies on top of the coffee while you so something close to talkin’ about… this place, an’ whatever the hell it’s doin’.

You’re not the only one telling lies, Levinson.

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