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#Buy Professional Hair Products
probeautyproducts · 2 years
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Buy the best hair products for healthy hair from VIP Pro Beauty. You can find a wide range of hair care products under one roof here. The products are manufacturing using natural ingredients with three times the amount of biotin and botanical extracts as other hair care products. They are suitable for all hair types and textures.
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yukinyaminyato · 1 year
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wow i spent 4 hours at the salon & the result is that i still hate my hair 🫠 not the hairdresser's fault & i did get a discount bc the hair didn't turn out like expected but. yeah.
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shopsalonaustralia · 1 year
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Buy Oligo Pro Scalp Protector | Salon Support
The Oligo Scalp Protector Oil reduces irritation and itchiness for sensitive scalps during colour or lightening services.  Mix the Scalp Protector directly into your formula for an added layer of protection for those with chemical sensitivities. Register for trade and shop the Oligo Pro range at Salon Support.
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esskaybeauty12 · 2 years
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honeytonedhottie · 4 months
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masterlist (2024)⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪷
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law of assumption and manifesting
how i write my scripts
a look into my own manifestation
some manifesting exercises
random success story
beginners guide to manifesting
robotic affirming
law of assumption ins and outs
reprogramming subconscious mind
rampaging with manifesting
valentines day prep challenge (day one)
valentines day prep challenge (day two)
valentines day prep challenge (day three)
valentines day prep challenge (day four)
valentines day prep challenge (day five)
valentines day prep challenge (day six)
valentines day prep challenge (day seven)
honeys tea on self concept (improved)
how i make affirmations tapes + affirmation tape
you know how to manifest
ways to apply the law
for when u think u "failed" at manifesting
reprogramming ur mind activity
building a new life and identity (remake)
what to do when the 3d hasn't aligned
how to deal with self doubt when manifesting
i pledge allegiance
how to manifest faster
dealing with the unfavorable
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self care and beauty
for healthier hair
shampoo and conditioner recommendations
long list of self care practices
at home spa day
doll hand-book
maintaining a clean and fresh appearance
"your glowing"
general hygiene secrets and tips
hot girl summer prep
glazed doughnut skin secrets
things that are on my list to buy (beauty binder)
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mental well being and healing
the feel better formula
the tea on self love
disconnect and heal
ways to feel better about ur appearance
sustained satisfaction
how to keep going
embracing being alone
for rest and relaxation
the happy pill
self care assessment
how to unwind
shadow work prompts
how to stop being toxic
how to feel enough
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honeys girlblogging and that girl-ism
starting a video diary
how to deal with mean girls
ur guide to effortless glamor
little habits to adopt
embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic
the wizard liz mindset analysis
hyper girliness
dear diary
starting ur fitness girlie era
dopamine detox challenge
starting a collection
honeys guide to throwing a slumber party
HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - FEBRUARY EDITION
giving urself princess treatment
video dairy entry ideas
cultivating creativity and a deeper sense of self
starting and managing ur blog
how to be rich and luxurious
HONEYS BUSINESS INQUIRIES
a glamorous well being
incorporating luxury
HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - MARCH EDITION
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productivity and self development
focusing on urself
getting seriously organized
honey's resource bundle
getting it together
a fresh start
trusting and betting on urself
becoming ur own project and self upgrading
reset routine
goal ideas
practicing self discipline
things to do while on a dopamine detox
making an effective planner
the art of conversation (from a professional yapper)
restocking and replenishing
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school and studying
school notion tutorial
becoming an academic weapon challenge
studying methods + tips
how to get good grades without excessive studying
academic resources
ways im romanticizing school
pretty and well educated
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notes from honey🎀🍰
places to go vision board
notes from honey - note one
notes from honey - note two
things that make my mornings a million times better
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The Fox & the Hound (Ch. 01)
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Inspired by a tag on @ceilidho's tumblr post reblogged by @garbagecompactor3263827 where Johnny wants to sink his teeth into a newbie porn star.
MDNI/18+ NO EXCEPTIONS
AO3 Link - Comments/Reblogs very appreciated
You watched him prep in the shared bathroom. People were bustling in and out, and a lighting manager was handing him a fresh razor, reaching over him for her films. He trimmed around his fat, flaccid cock with a practiced hand, getting the hairs just right. Part of you wished it was still the 80s when bush was en vogue . The rest of him remained furry, thankfully, and just as you were about to tend to your own garden, he caught you looking. That same glint in his eyes sparkled, like a hound that had spotted the writhing tail of its fox, ready to crack its bones in his huge maw. He’d been looking at you like that all day. He laughed, but he didn’t ride you for gawking. If anything, he looked a little relieved. What had you gotten yourself into?
Nothing had gone according to plan. This was your first real shoot, and the original actor who had set you up with this production company wasn’t even in the film. Film , your internal monologue chided you, it’s a porno, you filthy slut . Okay, a porn film. You’d sent nude photos here and there, and you’d even landed in Playboy as a back-page lube advert girl. It was a start. But, now, here you were about to shoot your first porno , and the only thing you knew about this guy was that he had fought for this part. 
He was beyond famous. You’d heard that Johnny Dangerous was the man of the hour, and that most of the girls who needed to boost their bankrolls called him up to ask him to co-star. You’d never even heard of him until today, and after hanging around the catering cart, you learned that he was the one who had paid actual money to star with you. 
It was probably some power play. Maybe it was your novelty. Banging the brand new porn actress must have been some sort of game. You didn’t care. This one gig was about to pay off your loans and buy you a brand new car all at the same time. You just needed to survive Mr. Dangerous. 
“Honey, are you comin’? We gotta shoot outside before the sun goes down.”
The voice came from the doorway, but you weren’t the honey, for once. They were talking to him. He didn’t answer. He just nodded, dismissing them, throwing his bright green swim shorts back on and rubbing the remainder of the oil into his broad chest. He was staring at you, biting hard at the inside of his cheek like he had a secret. Then, his expression became resolute, and he spoke to you softly, the way you do when you’re trying to coax a cat out from under a car,
“You gonna make it, lass?”
“Yeah,” you swiped on some waterproof mascara as an excuse to stare into the mirror and not at him, “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. That seems normal.”
“It is,” Johnny moved closer to you, fluffing his own eyebrows in the mirror right alongside you, “Very normal. I’ll take care of you, hen. Nothin’ to worry your wee head about.”
You smiled. You didn’t want to thank him, exactly, but you wanted to be nice. Cordial. Professional. 
It wasn’t very professional of you to stare at the way his cock bounced as he adjusted his shorts, though, was it?
Then, to your shock, he leaned down and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips, tasting your sticky, cherry gloss, and saying, 
"See you in a bit, bonnie. Gonna make you feel real good." 
You stopped. He was gone, and for the first time that afternoon, you were alone. He lingered in all of the cracks and crevices of you, though. Now that he had pressed his lips to you, the spell had begun, and you realized you’d be fucking this man for hours. You drank your water from your icy jug, trying to turn it into liquid courage.
“Okay, okay, uhh… cute, yeah. Love it,” the director, Mike, appraised you like he worked on an assembly line, swooshing you over to the diving board with his hand, clutching a venti Starbucks cup in the other, “You look great, babe. Go sit on the diving board and let’s do a little preamble. Feel yourself up, pretend that you’re sunbathing in Malibu and not fuckin’ Santa Clarita, mkay?”
You made your way over to the diving board, walking in a way that you assumed was sexual, making a sexual face, and moving your hands across your tits…sexually. You thought it was a fine job until you heard the cut whistle. 
Mike was behind four people, two cameras, and an iPad when he shouted at you again,
“This isn’t a goddamn church service, babe. C’mon. I get hard when Chuy over here drives too fast, and this is not doin’ it.” 
“Sorry,” you said, moving back to your mark, determined to be positively the sexiest sunbather he had ever seen. 
“Mikey,” you heard Johnny’s voice call out, “Lemme kick it off.”
“Shut up, Johnny. I can’t afford your extra minutes, you skank,” Mike laughed and sipped his triple caramel mochaccino. 
Johnny came out from his shaded tent and cut his eyes at Mike before staring right at you,
“No charge. Just want it to be right.”
“Ugh,” Mike rolled his eyes behind his too-small sunglasses, “You and your…” he used scare quotes, “... art . Fine. Whatever. I just don’t want to shoot in the goddamn dark, so hurry up.”
Johnny walked around the pool, stroking himself across his shorts to stay hard. He was so thick that it looked like he was petting a handle of vodka back and forth. You tried to control your face, but you were getting more and more nervous as he came closer and closer to you.
“C’mere, bonnie,” he pulled you up from the diving board and held you in his arms.
If it wasn’t for the twenty people sweating to death in black tech clothes and eating dried-out hummus from foam plates standing around you, you would have felt like you were at your high school formal, being cradled gently in hands that wanted to do so much more. 
“Eyes on me,” he whispered. 
You obeyed, for some reason. There was nothing else to do but obey him. 
When he bent to kiss you, you knew it was for the cameras, because the angle of his face was open and softly spread so that the way he sucked your lips into his mouth would be seen by A and B-roll film. You kissed him back, trying to turn the sexiness up to eleven, rubbing your hands on his rigid cock to appear wanton and needy. 
He shuddered, and you thought you’d done something wrong. The look in his eyes told a different story. They were feverish, daring, and his pupils were fully blown. You could smell the coconut sunscreen someone had applied to him, and you could feel his breathing quicken in his huge body. 
Mike’s nasally voice came over the speakers,
“Let’s get a boom in there and pick up some of the kissing noise, please. Also, Johnny, some of your famous accent there, baby. You know what the ladies like.”
You were being kissed again, now set up for everyone to hear. He was devouring you, and you tried to keep your footing, grabbing his hulking shoulders and running your hands across his hirsute form. His muscles rippled and stretched beneath your touch, and he spoke his lines,
“Thought you would sneak into my wee pool, did ya, hen?”
You gave your voice a high-pitched lilt,
“Yes, I just wanted to get nice and tan.”
“Aye?” He pulled the tie on your bikini top, “Wouldn’t wanna get any tan lines, huh?”
You shook your head no, kissing his bare chest and feeling the top slither off of you to hang around your waist. 
“Wow,” his voice had changed its timbre, “Look at these pretty tits. Jesus…”
Johnny brought his mouth down to your nipple and sucked on it, licking on your beaded nub until it tightened for him, making sure to allow the camera man a full view of your perky breasts as they filled his hands. 
You moaned, and then you remembered to moan the right way, high and whiny. The higher the pitch, the higher the profit, they’d said. 
Johnny stopped suddenly, looking you in your eyes,
“Go back, lass. The first way. Do it the first way.”
“Johnny!” Mike complained, “Do you wanna come sit in this fuckin’ chair, or are you gonna focus on gettin’ your fat dick wet? Stop directing mid-scene. Cut. Cut. Start over with the tit sucking, and we’ll take it from the top,” Mike changed the tone of his voice and smiled at you, “You’re doing great, babe. Ten outta ten.”
You felt Johnny move his mouth to you again, but this time, his eyes were watching you, looking at you and waiting for you to make a choice. He was eager to make you moan, sucking hard and then soft, letting his long tongue lave over you like an animal, nibbling at your skin and making your blood rush to the surface. 
You moaned for real, testing the waters. Johnny smiled so wide you could see his back teeth, his jaw open and parting to let his tongue come forward to do its work. 
“Tha’s it, hen. Lemme hear you.”
His enormous hand squeezed your other breast, and he moved his mouth between them, stirring up your pleasure like a whisk in cream. Soft peaks. 
You obliged. The more you moaned, the more he fondled. He was yanking at your strings and ripping the bikini from you quicker than you had assumed he would be, especially since you were still in the outdoor scene. Wasn’t this all supposed to be inside?
“Christ,” Mike groaned, “I look at my email for five seconds and you’re almost nose-deep in her asshole? Johnny, this was supposed to be at couch scene three. Can - hey! Can somebody get him a book?”
Someone handed him a book, and he tossed it in the bushes,
“I dinnae care if it’s scene five thousand, Mikey. Just shoot it vérité, mate. Just like old times,” Johnny barked. He was getting more and more ruffled as Mike kept cutting in, almost like he was impatient to be done with it. Done with you?  
Mike turned his head to his assistant and asked,
“How many minutes do we have? Are we good? Okay. Okay!” He threw up his hands, “Okay, Johnny, you prima donna bitch. Let’s take it inside.”
The Someone with the book now passed Johnny his robe and he shouldered it on. He looked around and barked again,
“Aye! Hers? Give it here.”
He then had your robe in his hands and put it over you, cloaking you in its soft terrycloth, making sure you were covered. It was such an abrupt stop to your pleasure, one that you were not used to making, and your body railed you for it. Your pussy throbbed, your nipples ached, and your belly was full of butterflies. He held your hand as you walked inside. Just as you were about to get into position four on couch three, he pulled you back, nodding up at Mike and his team of people.
“Okay, lets get lighting on couch scene three, Billy. Hey! Hotdog! I didn’t say pull the lamp. Put the lamp back. Thanks, my man. Two more clicks on the warm light. Okay, gross, one click. Perfecto.”
Mike’s head popped over his iPad,
“You lovebirds ready for scene three?”
“Hang on,” Johnny grumbled, removing his swim trunks and flip-flops. 
He positioned himself on the couch and spread his legs, jerking himself back to full hardness and staring right at you as he did so. 
“C’mon, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”
You made your way over to the couch and knelt down. You didn’t mean to, but you hissed when your knees hit the cold, hard tiles. 
“Sorry!” You whispered to him.
He took his hands off his cock and pulled you onto the couch with him,
“Here, bonnie girl. Like this instead, yeah?”
Johnny pushed himself out along the length of the couch so that you were both laying on it. You placed your knees on the arm of it, raising your bare ass in the air for B-roll shots, your face perfectly positioned at Johnny’s raging hard-on. It was massive up close. His plump head and thick rod had seemed normal in his huge hands, but now that your small fingers were wrapped around him, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 
“Okay, fuck,” Mike smiled, drinking his coffee and nodding, “That’s hot. Good call, new girl. Smart.”
You smiled back at Mike, grateful for the praise, feeling like you were going to knock it out of the park. Then, Johnny’s cruel hand grabbed your hair and turned your head up to stare into his eyes. He grinned like a demon,
“You don’t have to smile at him, lass. He’s a fuckin’ bawbag.”
“JD! Can we get on with it?” Mike rolled his eyes. 
You got on with it. Something in Johnny’s demeanor had stirred a dark place in your belly. He was possessive, and he didn’t like you smiling at Mike. He did like the way you took each of his balls in your mouth and sucked on them with loose, pouty lips. His moans were cut short, not wanting to over-saturate the reel with male grunting sounds. Apparently, the straight male audience wasn’t a fan of anyone’s grunting but their own. 
He also liked when you tried to take him into your throat, moving your head as far as you could down his shaft, choking on his cock until you felt drool coat the inside of your mouth. You spit it onto him, and he wrenched his eyes shut, unable to watch you fuck your own face with his shaft. 
“Okay, while Johnny’s taking a nap or whatever that face is, let’s get B-roll in here for her mouth. Also, let’s take a minute or so of that gorgeous ass she’s got up there for us. That’s gonna be money, my friend. You are gonna be Miss Popular!”
In the place where you were staring before, Johnny’s face of agony and bliss, now there was a big, black lens. You could see yourself, bobbing up and down hungrily, and you pulled out all the stops. You suckled gently on his glans, lapping up his precome dutifully, enjoying it enough to moan again. 
He jumped, and Johnny’s hand snaked its way under the camera to squeeze the life out of his shaft. 
“Hey, mate, move to B-roll of her ass, would ya?”
The camera man laughed,
“About to lose it, Johnny? I thought she was the newbie.”
“Shut up, mate.”
You stayed stock still, watching as the camera moved to your rear end, feeling beyond exposed. You played with your pussy, spreading it open, fingering yourself, all of the things you were supposed to do. And, to be honest, it felt great. You needed to come so badly, a warm breeze would have been sexy to you at this point. 
Johnny stared down at you, his dick still in the prison of his fist, panting,
“How are we doin’, lass?”
“Good, you?” You appreciated the check-in. 
“Good. Ready to fuck you. So damn ready.”
His voice and his eyes were predatory. You felt like his prey. Prey had claws, too, though. So, you licked his shaft again, and you fed his own line back to him,
“I’m gonna come so fast. You’re gonna make me feel so good, baby.”
His face changed into a look of shock. Just then, Mike rang the bell,
“Alright, it’s couch doggy and - what does this say?”
“Light,” someone told him.
“Okay, light spanking? You okay with that new girl? It says you signed off on it.”
“Yeah,” you shrugged. 
“Okie dokie, just checking. Sweet. Let’s get there.”
Johnny was standing at the arm of the couch, positioned behind you were you couldn’t see him. You felt his hands rub your cheeks and spread them wide, opening your core up to him. Then, that long tongue was lapping up your wetness, and he was talking with his mouth full,
“Mmf, so wet for me, lassie. That’s my good girl.”
Your pussy clenched and you knew he could see it. You thought he might laugh or make some other comment, but he kept your secret, licking the inside of you with soft, languid strokes, you gave him another clench - this time on purpose - waiting to see if you could rile him up again. 
“Oh, fuck,” Johnny moaned, “You’re so ready for me. Fuck me, wait.”
He stopped eating you out, which was the opposite of what you were going for. This shoot was a disaster, and you really needed this gig.
“I’m sorry!” You said, turning around.
“What?” His brow furrowed, “No, just wait. Mike!”
“What is it now? Johnny - this is why I didn’t call you about Manuel Ferrara’s gangbang.”
“I just need my bag.”
Mike’s sigh was theatrical,
“Everyone take five.”
The bell went off again. You sat on the couch and the same someone brought you your robe and a water. You smiled and thanked them. Johnny had disappeared, but when he came back, he was wearing a thick, black cock ring, tightly secured around his shaft and balls. 
“Okay,” he sighed, sitting by you on the couch, robeless.
“Are you alright?” You asked, offering him some of your water.
He took it, gulping down two huge swallows before responding,
“Aye, lass. Just had to stop myself from ending this show too soon.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise,
“I thought it was for the opposite reason. Must be hard to keep it up for such a long time, especially with all these breaks.”
He laughed,
“Usually, yeah. But, not today.”
His eyes were raking over you, still hungry for you even though he’d seen it all already. It would have been a lie to say you weren’t hungry for him, too. It was intoxicating, the way he stared at you, eager and joyful. You weren’t surprised he was so popular. 
“Annnnnd, we’re back, people! Baby, could you perch up there again, please? Now that Mr. Princess is done preening, we can shoot a fucking porno.”
You repositioned yourself back to where you were, and someone came by to re-oil your ass cheeks. They felt shiny, and you hoped you looked great. Watching the film was going to be humbling, but this was your first time and you were learning so much. 
Johnny took his place behind you, and you felt the familiar, heavy slap of a cockhead on your pussy lips, sticky and exciting. You gasped. He responded, 
“That’s right, hen. It’s time for your reward.”
He began to feed his head into you, and the crown of it popped into your hole with some resistance. Behind you, his thick fingers spread your cheeks apart, and you felt one hand leave just to return in a sharp smack. You cried out louder. He sank in a little deeper, moaning right along with you. He slapped your ass again and growled,
“Fuuuuuuck, that’s too tight, that’s too tight. Oh, Jesus.”
You keened, embarrassed, but unable to stop the noise that came out of your mouth. 
“You like it, lass? Gettin’ this pretty little cunt all stretched out for me. Gonna make you beg for this cock and only this fuckin’ cock, ain’t that right?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, your voice straining, “Only this cock, baby. Fuck me nice and hard.”
You regretted every word because he was pleased to oblige you. He slammed himself down into your aching hole, pressing through your walls, through your wetness and the oil and the lube, and it still wasn’t enough. You felt like you were tearing apart, especially when he pressed you onto his hilt. 
Everything slowed way down. You saw white, for a moment, and you felt tears well up in your eyes, burning on their way down your cheeks. He was trying to ease you though it, but you were coming on him. Your whole body was shaking and trembling, and his girth was forcing an orgasm to rattle through your core. You even felt him fighting to stay inside of you, battling against your tightening walls, desperate to keep his position, nestled at your womb, deep within you. 
“Oh, fuck! Lass! Holy God, that pussy is tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You felt him slap you again, but the sting was gone. Your body had flooded you with orgasmic endorphins and adrenilne, and it was going to take a lot more than a “light spanking” to get your attention away from the cosmic nova exploding in your belly. 
Johnny’s thrusts were that of a hungry beast. He didn’t falter, nor slow, nor stop to check and see if you were even still alive. He was chasing himself down inside of you like a dog with its tail. Over and over and over, you felt the heavy weight of him pushed forward, smacking into you, feeling his hips snap repeatedly spearing your core with his enormous rod. He was grunting with abandon now, just barking out cries along with you, and when you looked at him over your shoulder, his face was bent and twisted in such a rage that it frightened you. He looked inhuman.
Suddenly, you were lifted from the couch, and his hands were around you. He flipped you over and held your thighs pressed down to your chest, creating an even deeper angle. You regained your thoughts quickly enough to hold your legs pinned for him, only half-worried that you’d tumble off the couch. 
You weren’t sure it was possible though, since his grip on your waist was so punishingly tight. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that you were feeling it in your bones. Your hips were taking the brunt of his sex-fueled wrath, and you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow. 
Then, his fingers found your clit, rubbing accurate and pleasure-filled circles around and around, making your lips swell with intensity. You were going to come again, and you told him so,
“Johnny… you’re gonna make me come, baby.”
“Come,” he snarled down at you, his eyes wild and haunted, “Come on me. I wanna feel you fuckin’ squeeze me out. Come. Come. Come, lass. Come for me, pretty girl. Oh! Oh, there it is. Yes, yes, yes, good girl. Good girl. Fuck!”
He rode you through your orgasm and stalled, leaving himself inside of your fluttering walls, basking in the sensation, trying to catch his breath. Johnny sat on the couch and you climbed into his lap, taking his cock in your hands and guiding it back into your dripping hole. 
“Bonnie,” he sighed, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass in both of his hands, “You feel like heaven. God, baby, don’t stop. Just like that, don’t stop.”
You were rocking back and forth on him, and you could feel his swollen head rubbing at the end of your pussy, bullying your cervix, making you feel too full. 
“It’s too much, baby,” you confessed, squishing your breasts together and letting him move his mouth across your nipples once again, “You’re too big. Filling me up… I’m so full.”
“You’re so tight, lass.”
He said it like a prayer. His eyes were glassy as they stared up at you. All of his bravado and flirtatiousness was gone, and it had been replaced by boyish wonder. It was as if it was his first time to feel the inside of a woman, to be hugged, warm and wet, engulfed in her core and playing within her the oldest song known to man. You sang it for him, not for profit anymore. His bewtichment was complete. You were totally and completely ensnared by him. 
Then, he held you to him, clutching you to his chest and screaming out loud, braying and writhing beneath you. He was coming. You felt him pulse, over and over, spilling and foaming and frothing around the edges of your hole, soaking you from the inside. 
You rode him slowly, back down from his high, and he gasped with every roll of your hips, looking at you in some sort of horrible ecstasy. 
Mike’s bell went off in your ear.
“Okay, folks! Thanks so much. Let’s wrap it. I’m sure some of this is salvageable. Johnny, and uh… whatever your name is, you still owe me garden scene six and upstairs… um, is it pool table? It’s pool table. Wanna be back here tomorrow at two?”
Johnny gave an exhausted thumbs up, and so did you, finally sliding yourself off of him with a wet milky sound. 
“Um,” you tried to catch your breath, “Thanks, for helping me today. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
He looked at you quizzically, almost a little hurt. It was a confusing face to see, but you didn’t really know him that well, so you waited for his reply.
“Sure, bonnie.”
You untangled your legs from him and pulled on your robe, leaving him on the couch. You needed a shower and some brand of fast food, as soon as physically possible. 
The bathroom was steaming when you hopped in, and you were covered head to toe in coconut smelling soap when you heard a knock at the door. 
“Uh, come in?” You peeked around the glass partition.
It was Johnny. 
“Got room for one more, lass?”
You looked around behind him, half-expecting a camera to pop out. He noticed your reticence, and he shook his head,
“Nevermind. Forget I asked.”
“Hey, yeah. Sure, if you want. Come on in,” you moved deeper into the shower, letting him step into the billowing steam. 
At first, he was silent, just washing himself, scraping the suds over his body and sharing the water with you. But, then, he asked,
“Wanna get a bite? I’m starvin’ to death.”
“Me, too,” you laughed. 
“Class,” he smiled.
There was another long pause, and then when you turned off the water, he stepped into your space, too close to be friendly, 
“What if I was still hungry for you as well, hen? What would you say to that?”
The water dripped from the head of the shower in a soft tinkling pattern. You breathed each other’s breaths, inching closer and closer until your lips touched his wide chest, the hair smeared flat from the warm water, rivulets rushing down his belly to his crotch, dripping off of him and of you. 
You kissed his chest again, feeling him shudder under you as if he hadn’t just come inside of you minutes ago, packed with anxious excitement. 
Smiling up at him, you took a chance, 
“Your couch or mine?”
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Chapter 02
955 notes · View notes
venus616 · 1 year
Note
Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽
his muse; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked
Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~
(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)
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You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 
It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 
He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.
The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 
Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 
“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.
“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.
Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.
Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.
Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.
His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.
You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 
“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 
No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 
He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 
You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 
Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.
“You weren’t naked before.”
A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”
You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 
A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.
His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 
“Let’s change that.” 
You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 
“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 
His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 
Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.
“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 
You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 
Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 
You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.
Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.
You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  
You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 
The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 
“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 
Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 
When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 
You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 
No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 
When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 
You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 
“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 
You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 
Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 
He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 
His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 
“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  
“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 
You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 
You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 
Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 
Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 
Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 
Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 
You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 
Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.
Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 
You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 
Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.
“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 
“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 
Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 
“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 
Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 
You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.
“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 
“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 
“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 
He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 
“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.
You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 
“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.
“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 
He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 
One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.
“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 
“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 
“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 
He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 
“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.
“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.
You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 
Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 
“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 
“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 
Or that’s what you thought. 
You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 
You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 
You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.
“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 
Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 
“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 
“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 
“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 
A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 
You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 
You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 
He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 
Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 
One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 
Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.
A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 
The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 
Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 
“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 
You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 
“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 
“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 
You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 
“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 
He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 
“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 
“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 
Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 
“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”
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lbxbx · 1 month
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Blackmail 3 | KTH
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Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader
Genre: smut, angst. Five shot
Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.
Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo
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It’s been almost a month, nothing changed really and he was right, during the whole tour you two kept it professional around the rest of the team, but not like all of the time, he would on purpose bite onto your fingers when you’re putting on his makeup, or even graze his elbow against your tits when you two are standing next to each other, but other than that you two kept it professional to avoid the rumors.
 their tour ended a couple days ago and they planned a celebration dinner for the entire staff at a nearby restaurant for barbeque and you wouldn’t say no, they were nice enough to give everyone a raise and a few days off as a reward, so tonight was the last dinner before you get back to work this Monday to film their variety show.
You had woken up early to go and buy yourself the car you were saving for and you finally did, it had to stay at the agency for a couple more days for the license plate and papers, but you were at your best that day. The moment you get into the restaurant you are welcomed by everyone cheering around and raising their shot glasses and welcoming you in, you hug your friends and get seated with them before taking off your cardigan.
That day your mood was top notch, you felt strong and proud of yourself, you finally got your car, you adore your job that introduced you to so many nice people and you were really feeling your best. You got dressed into a white summer dress with spaghetti straps, and you can’t lie, you wanted to bring the attention to your tits.
The staff cheers again when the boys walk into the restaurant and they take their seats. And even when you know that what happened the other time was a one time thing, but fucking god Taehyung looked like a fucking snack. Nothing special really, but his gray sweatpants are going to be the end of you, you try your best to keep your eyes off of him and act occupied.
As the food is served and the atmosphere around the place was incredible, everyone was happy, some were even too drunk and dancing while chewing on their food, everyone was chatting and catching up, it felt like home to you, and you wouldn’t risk losing your job for anything.
On the other hand though, Taehyung is nodding his head to his manager who was telling him about his family nonstop but  Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s not even sure he’s listening at this point.
He was searching for you the entire night, and right when his eyes landed on you the alcohol was already going through his system and he can feel his body heating up. He finds himself having flashbacks of how perfect your cunt wrapped around his cock when he was fucking you that night, he still didn’t get enough and he’s thirsty for more.
You made a great choice wearing the white dress because it did bring his attention to your tits, he clears his own throat at the thought of going down on you and fuck he needs you tonight.
You can easily tell that someone was looking and you know exactly who, so you turn your head away on purpose and gather your hair away from your neck to reveal more of your chest, this ignites him even more and all he knows is that he’s up on his feet excusing himself away from his manager and making his way to you.
“Good evening girls.”  He leans his palm on the table with a toothy smile on his face.  “Are you having fun?” He laughs on the inside and he finds it funny that he fucked every girl that was seated around this table.
“Yes!” Leah pours him some Soju and hands him the shot glass. “Have a drink with us.”
“Some other time, but hey Y/N, can we talk?” He tilts his head, everyone was too drunk to make a big deal out of it so you just nod your head and pull your chair back to get up onto your feet. He puts his hand on your lower back and walks a couple steps away from the table. “You look incredible tonight.”
“Oh yeah? How’d you like the dress?” You ask already knowing the answer, he high key stares down onto your tits and takes a step closer. “Would love to take it off of you tonight.”
You giggle and cross your arms. “I’ll take that as a yes, I got it when we were in the states last week.”
“Mhm, it brings out your tits.” He puts his hands in his pocket, his eyes still locked onto your chest. “Wanna come over tonight? I’m having an after party.”
You were never invited to after parties so you didn’t mind at all. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind, your place?” You ask, and he shakes his head right away. “No, I can’t risk something breaking or the apartment being messed up and getting dirty, I actually rented a B&B for the night.”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” You laugh when you realize that his eyes are not still not moving. “Is it an actual party or is it just us? Cause it sounds suspicious.”
“No, I promise it’s not just us.” He finally looks up at you and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, I’m sending you the location right now.”
“Sure, I’ll see you tonight.”
He walks back to his table, this time pulling the seat next to Jungkook who’s digging into the pork belly. “So? How did it go?”
“She’s coming, you can consider it done.” Taehyung grabs onto the closest pair of chopsticks and grabs a bite. “I’ll leave first and set up the cameras.”
“Cool.”
Jungkook has probably watched your video with Taehyung more than Taehyung himself, and he’s been itching the entire time wanting to spend a night with you, he kept nagging wanting his friend to try and plan out a night or you three, and ever since they walked into the restaurant Jungkook thought it’s the perfect opportunity.
“Look just tell her it’s a fake party or something.”
“She’s not that stupid Jungkook, she’ll figure it out.” Taehyung gritted on his own teeth, he’s had enough and at this point he just wants things to get done with just to stop the nagging from the younger one.
“Just invite her over to your place or something, please.” He’ll shed tears if he needed.
“Alright fine.”
And it’s not until approximately 3 hours later, and people start leaving, you get up and put your cardigan on and grab your purse. “I’ll see you guys on Monday,”
“But hey, we’re going out with the girls to this club a couple blocks away, aren’t you joining us?” One of your girl friends asks, you look at your phone screen to check the time before straight up lying to her. “I can’t, I’m really tired and I have to go home, but hey, have fun.” You wave your hand goodbye and walk out of the restaurant before hearing someone calling out your name from behind and following you outside. “Y/N, wait up.”
You turn to the owner of this voice and it’s Jungkook, holding his car keys and wallet and running outside. “Oh hey, what’s up?”
“You’re going to Taehyung’s place? I can drive you there, I’m going there too.” He points his head towards his car.
“Oh, you don’t have to, he sent me the location I’ll call a cab or something.” You unlock your phone, he laughs and puts his hand behind your back. “Let me drive you there, come on.”
You don’t argue anymore and just follow him to his luxurious car, your ride there was quiet but not awkward at all, only the sound of his radio playing music was in the background along with the sound of the wind through the open windows.
“I guess it’s right here.” He finally parks his car, it wasn’t that far away but you can hear music blasting in the dark alleys, “Do you know who else is invited?”
“I know the rest of the boys couldn’t make it, but it’s mostly people you know.” You two leave the car and get into the building, Jungkook waves hello to the security guard near the gate and the guard smirks. Jungkook and Taehyung are recurrent visitors to this B&B and almost every time they show up with a different girl. “Have a pleasant evening Mr. Park.”
Yeah, he just called him that because the boys used fake names all the time when it came to such activities.
You both take the elevator to the 28th floor, the elevator doors open right into a huge apartment that was nearly empty, only two guys handshaking Taehyung and saying goodbye, before getting into the elevator and leaving. “Hey, where’s everyone?” Jungkook walks further inside, totally knowing that there won’t be anyone else but the three of you.
“They’re on their way.” Taehyung proceeds with the lie, before inviting you inside, again his hand on your lower back guiding you onto the leather couch. “Tequila?” He grabs out the bottle with a couple shot glasses.
“Yeah, sure.” You make yourself comfortable, Jungkook sits right next to you, you find it a little concerning when he’s sitting really close, his leg grazing against yours. “Kook?” Taehyung offers a drink.
“No thanks, I’m driving.” It makes you a little relieved that at least someone will stay sober. “Here you go.” Taehyung hands you the shot glass and clinks his own with yours. “Cheers.”
You gulp down the shot and grab the bottle to examine it. “It doesn’t taste half bad, I like it.”
“Here, let me pour you some more.” He grabs the bottle and pours you down another shot, before refilling his own and clinking it with yours, and the two of you throw your heads back when taking the shots. Gosh, why is it getting hot in here?
Jungkook gets up onto his feet and stands behind the couch, his hands landing onto your shoulders. “Can I help you with your jacket?” He asks, as if he knew you were started to feel overheated, you nod your head and pull your hair to the side as he helps you take off your cardigan, Taehyung who’s sitting next to you runs his fingers down your forearm and whispers. “So how was your vacation?”
Jungkook pours you another shot of tequila and puts the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, before taking back his seat this time even sitting closer to you, your attention was on Taehyung the entire time as you were genuinely telling him about your vacation even when he truly doesn’t care, he’s just using the small talk as a way to distract you from realizing that no one else was going to show up, and he was giving Jungkook the chance to make a move on you.
And it was already planned ahead, as you were talking, you feel Jungkook’s fingers tugging your hair behind your ear and moving down to your neck and back, slowly and gently rubbing small circles to make you relax in your seat and it works in a click of a button, your eyes feel heavier and your body is heating up even when the cardigan is long gone.
You turn your head towards the younger one but Taehyung quickly asks. “Oh and what else did you buy?” Making you turn your head back to him, and Jungkook takes the chance to run his finger right under the straps of your dress and pulls it down, this time he wouldn’t resist the urge to put his lips right onto your shoulder to kiss you there making you flinch in your seat. “Jungkook?”
Taehyung nudges Jungkook from behind your back and laughs as he grabs your shot glass to hand it to you. “Here, have this.”
Jungkook adjusts his seat when he’s warned by the oldest and gets up onto his feet. “Should we put on some music?”
“Oh yeah, totally.” Taehyung walks towards Jungkook as they start flipping through their playlist to start the music, you grab your glass and drink the shot before putting it down, you’re already feeling lightheaded and your fingertips are on fire for some reason. You rarely had tequila unless you were going out with your friends or partying, tonight was neither of the occasions but it’s doing things to your body.
You lean back onto the couch and close your eyes for a second, you flinch again when you feel a set of hands on your shoulders. “Here, let me help you relax.” Jungkook stands behind you and rubs your shoulders, moving down to your neck and rubbing your skin, slowly but surely approaching again to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your body and spine. “Mmm.”
You’re definitely conscious but totally not oriented anymore, your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t really good so you got drunk way too fast. “Let me help you take those off.” Taehyung gets down on his knees, grabbing your foot in his hand and unbuckling your sandals to take them off, gently rubbing your feet that are heating up as well. He presses one kiss onto your ankle with his eyes locked onto yours and moves up to your calves.
“Mmm.” Rings in your ear when Jungkook fondles with the straps of your dress again, this time briefly pulling it down to reveal your shoulders and a little bit of your cleavage, licking there and nibbling small bites all over your skin. “Shit.” Barely escapes your mouth, you can’t keep up with both at the same time, especially when Taehyung has already reached your thigh and he’s biting onto you too. He pulls back and stands up again. “Let’s take her to bed Jungkook.”
And Jungkook doesn’t think twice before yanking his shirt off, Taehyung grabs you by your hands and walks you towards the bedroom that seems to be prepared and it hits you right now that this was planned for. You look around the room to see three tripods set up on the corners of the room which makes you turn to look at Taehyung. And what even possessed you? You shoot a smirk at him and tilt your head. “Are we filming this?” And by the way, the sober you wouldn’t have accepted this at all.
Did they even put something in your drinks? Of course they can’t, you only blame the tequila for this.
“Yeah.” Taehyung throws off his top too and walks behind you to put his hands onto your hips, pulling you close to him, “Do you see Jungkook right there?”
“Mhm.” You stare at the youngest, you’ve seen his body all the time at work but this time it’s making you wet when you see him topless with a boner begging to be released from his sweatpants. “Jungkook has been thinking about you the entire time, wanting to make you feel good just like I did before, and we can’t let him down, can we?”
“What do you say princess?” Jungkook walks closer, rubs his nose against yours and bites onto your lower lip. “I think I can fuck you better than he did.”
Your body is heating up again and your face is bright red when you’re sandwiched between the two, Taehyung’s clothed erection poking your ass and Jungkook’s erection poking your lower stomach. “No blindfolds this time.” Your condition makes Taehyung giggle from behind you before he collects your hair away from your neck and whispers. “No blindfolds this time.”
 Jungkook’s tattooed hand grazes onto the skin of your thighs before it lands right onto your covered cunt, his lips that are hovering over yours curl into a smirk when he feels your cunt pulsating against the moist thin piece of fabric, he presses his hand to locate your clit and proceeds to rub it in circular motion, his lips finally connecting to yours for a single kiss. “That’s it.” Taehyung whispers from behind you, his hands still on your hips and slowly scrunching up your dress in his hands to reveal your little white panty, his hands grope onto the flesh of your ass tightly leaving trails of his fingernails.
You throw your head back against Taehyung’s chest when Jungkook’s fingers move faster. Jungkook knows the female body well too, so with a quick glance to your chest that rises faster he can tell you’re already aroused enough and ready to cum any second now, but he can’t let you cum right now, the night is still young and he’s planning to fuck your soul out of your body.
He pulls back and takes off his sweatpants, Taehyung throws your dress off and takes a seat onto the bed, and just like the first time, he butters up his bread by holding your hand to come closer and sit onto his leg, cupping your face closer to kiss you, your lips parting for his tongue and your hands holding his head slowly making your way to scratch the back of his hair softly. Taehyung’s hands are slowly moving to your back to unclasp your bra and reveal your swollen tits.
Jungkook gets into the bed and leans his head against the headboard. “Come here princess.” Jungkook seems to be a lot softer than Taehyung and you clearly remember hearing the girls from the staff mentioning that he was romantic and sweet in bed.
But you also heard one of the girls mentioning that she couldn’t walk after she spent a night with these two. Well at least tomorrow you have the day off so you can rest.
You obey and climb the bed, crawling on your hands and knees towards Jungkook and he pulls you in for a kiss again, his hands moving down to his own boxers to palm his boner. “I wonder if my dick can fit in that little mouth, do you think we can try?”
And you hook your fingers onto the top of his boxers and pull them down slowly, his hardened cock escaping it and almost hitting you in the face making you giggle. Again, you blame the alcohol.
You grab his cock into your hand while locking your eyes into his, stroking it gently and licking the tip once, you were too distracted with what’s in your hand to not focus on Taehyung, who’s already fully naked and climbing on the bed too, positioning his head between your legs, his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you fully down to land on his face.
It drives Jungkook feral when he sees your eyes slowly closing and your jaw dropping down at the contact of Taehyung’s warm mouth to your clit. He grabs his own cock and the back of your hair, pointing the tip to your lips and slowly pushing your head down to take more of his cock into your mouth. “Mmm.” Your other hand lands onto the bed and you grab the bed sheets into your fists when Taehyung wraps his mouth around your clit. It was so arousing and you almost feel like this is too good to be true.
The tip of Jungkook’s cock hits the back of your throat making him gasp and pull you away. “You look so fucking beautiful with that cock in your mouth. Hyung get the camera.”
You whine when you feel the warmth of Taehyung’s mouth drifting apart from your cunt, he gets up and takes one of the cameras off of the tripod and hands it to Jungkook. The youngest grabs the camera and points it towards you, he doesn’t bother looking at you when he can clearly see your face from the tiny screen on the camera.
His grip gets tighter on your hair and he pulls you down to suck onto his cock again, bobbing your head up and down still not reaching your throat. And in the meanwhile Taehyung gets back in his earlier position and wraps his mouth around your cunt, flicking his tongue against your entrance and even pushing it inside to stretch your pussy with it, your back arches when he sucks onto your clit like there’s no tomorrow, you try and move your hips away from him but he hugs onto your legs making you fully sit on his face.
“Mmm.” Jungkook’s cock is making you choke on words and you can barely make a sound specially when he pushes further inside your mouth, this time the tip poking your uvula and making you gag and try to pull back, his grip onto your hair tightens and he pulls you up, zooming in with the camera to show the strings of your saliva connecting your mouth to his cock that’s already leaking precum. “You’re doing so good princess, do you think you could do it again?”
“Fuck.” Is all you manage to moan off of the top of your lungs when you feel Taehyung’s fingers enter your pussy, slowly curling them against your spot and thrusting them in and out, your wetness already covering his fingers and dripping down his palm. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and swallows the two digits inside which makes Taehyung mumble. “Fuck.” Your pussy was getting greedy for more.
Jungkook pushes his cock back into your mouth and moves his hips up to meet your lips, your eyes shut tightly and your tears stream down your cheeks when you gag again this time audibly, making Taehyung spank you on the ass and dig his fingers into your flesh. “Good fucking girl, Ugh.. that’s it.” Jungkook was pretty vocal in bed.
Your hand lands onto his big thigh and tap it repeatedly, begging for him to pull out so you can catch a breath,  and he pulls back to watch you gasp for a breath, your nails dig into his skin and you look onto his lips, feeling over stimulated from the man that’s sitting between your legs. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” If you’d only see how you looked in the camera, it was phenomenal.
“What do you say Jungkook, should I make her cum?” Taehyung asks, pushing one more digit into your thirsty pussy making you scratch onto Jungkook’s skin, your hips slowly grinding against his fingers. “Please make me cum.” You beg, holding onto Jungkook’s dick into your hand and stroking it. “Please.”
“Don’t make her cum.” Jungkook throws the camera down and gets up to switch positions with Taehyung, sitting behind you with your ass facing him, he spanks you on the ass again and buries his face into your ass, licking your puckered hole and teasing your entrance with his fingers, “Holy fuck.” You reach your hand back to hold onto his long dark hair and push him closer into your ass, in the mean time Taehyung grabs your face into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you once before whispering. “Do you think it’s fair if you blow his dick and don’t blow mine?”
He strokes his cock and points the tip to your mouth and gets a tight grip of your hair, before thrusting his hips up to meet your mouth, repeatedly fucking your mouth and the only sound you can hear is your throat clicking with each thrust, and Jungkook’s hums as he savors your juices that are flooding out of your cunt. He swears he’s never tasted a pussy like yours.
You’re already fucked, your cunt was clenching around Jungkook’s tongue with each gag you release, your fingernails are digging into Taehyung’s thighs and your throat is done for today. Taehyung pulls back just to observe your fucked up face and it scratches the itch inside him to see you like that, all messy and drooling from being fucked in the face by his cock.
“Come here.” He lays down completely on the bed and pulls you away from Jungkook’s grip, his hand reaching down to massage your entrance with the head of his cock and smacking it against your wetness. Jungkook sits up behind you and strokes his dick too before pointing it to your butt hole, your soul escapes your body when they both enter you at the same time and you could swear you see stars.
The magical stretch in your pussy caused by Taehyung sends you to heaven, and it’s more arousing to him when he feels your cunt hogging his dick and clenching around it, slowly pushing more inside you until he’s balls deep, not giving you a second to adjust. His eyes are locked onto your face when your body stiffens, he could easily pound into you all night and he’ll still be hungry for more.
And the cherry on the top was the stretch you feel in your ass, Jungkook whimpers and grips tightly onto your ass when he feels how tight your hole was around his cock, it drives him insane enough that he feels himself seconds away from painting your insides with his seed, he takes a second to breath before pushing in further inside, he grits onto his own teeth and throws his head back. “You’re fucking incredible princess.”
And you, goodness you were doomed, your entire spine stiffens when Jungkook enters you more but your back arches when Taehyung gets balls deep inside you, this is so overwhelming to you and you never tried this, it takes a single twitch from Jungkook’s cock inside you to make you cum, Taehyung being the first one to notice when you clench around him smirks, he grabs your face closer and laughs. “Your princess is creaming on my cock.” He tells Jungkook, and Jungkook is not even listening he’s in his own world.
Both of them start moving in and out of you in sync to fuck you through your orgasm, you can barely balance on your own hands so your entire upper body lands on top of Taehyung, your silent cries in his ears are more than enough evidence that you’re as aroused as they are. “Don’t stop.” Is what you manage to say, one hand barely moving behind you to grab Jungkook’s thigh and dig into his skin too. “Please..”
Both of them pound into you not giving you a break after your orgasm, only minutes after you feel yourself building pressure on the inside and you know you’re about to cum again if they don’t stop. “Shit.” You whine when you feel Jungkook pulling out of you, he taps Taehyung on the thigh once and they switch positions again.
This time Jungkook enters your vagina and Taehyung pushing into your ass making you scream off of the top of your lungs, Taehyung proceeds to fuck you in the ass endless when he knows you’re prepped enough for him to pound into you fearless. But for Jungkook, it takes him a second to appreciate how your cunt wraps around his cock, he grabs your head into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you, pressing his forehead against yours and slowly making his own pace to move inside you.
“Mmm, fuck.” Your fist clinches the bed sheets behind Jungkook and you look him in the eyes. “You’re gonna make me cum again.”
“Cum for me princess.” He wraps his fingers around your neck and finally starts moving inside you, the friction from both dicks hitting your spots over and over makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head and again you lose your balance and land on Jungkook, he wraps his arms tightly around your body to get a better grip and pounds into you again, Taehyung on the other hand is seconds away from busting a nut and he’s debating in his head whether he should cum inside you or not, Jungkook’s penetration is making your ass tighten around Taehyung’s cock and it feels fucking insane inside you. And to make you cum faster he reaches his hand down to your clit to rub it in a circular motion.
“Fuck, fuck…” This was your end, your back arches one last time and you squirt against Jungkook’s dick hard enough to push him out, Taehyung still rubbing your clit and fucking your ass through your orgasm, your body shudders and you suffer to catch a breath again.
Jungkook is milliseconds away from reaching his end as well, he gets up onto his feet and grabs you by your wrist to pull you down onto the floor onto your knees. Both of them stand right by your face and stroke their dicks a couple last times before releasing their load onto your face and neck, and you don’t know what is it but you can’t like the taste of it whatsoever, this time luckily you didn’t gag like the time before, you were able to control yourself.
Taehyung as usual, gets into the bathroom and you hear the shower water running, but Jungkook… He stayed.
Even when there’s another bathroom and he could easily go shower, but he decided to stay, he grabs a nearby towel and a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and wetting the towel to clean your face gently, he goes down onto his knees still breathless and whispers. “I think you deserve to be taken care of after giving me one of my best fucks ever.”
You barely laugh and hug your arms closer to your body to cover it, he hands you the water bottle and helps you take a couple of sips. “Are you feeling okay?” He can see your hands shaking.
“Mhm, I’m just sore, that’s all.” You look around the room trying to locate your dress, Jungkook follows your eyesight and stands up. “I’ll go grab your dress.”
Of course you were thankful that he’s here but still, he doesn’t owe you anything and you could easily clean yourself up and just go home, but he grabs your clothes and helps you put them back on, “Thanks.” You grab the bed for support but Jungkook helps you up. “Jungkook call her a cab.” You hear Taehyung from the bathroom, but Jungkook rolls his eyes and leaves the bedroom to put his clothes back on. “Come, I’ll drive you.”
“You know you don’t have to.”
“Come on Y/N, let’s go.”
-
Monday comes in a blink of an eye, you were feeling a lot better and this time you didn’t need the painkillers, it seems like you’re slowly getting used to it and honestly you don’t like the fact that you are.
Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you remember the fact that you were filmed that night, but hey come on, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ll just end up on his phone like any other content. You can’t deny you’re a little embarrassed, not only you were filmed, but you had your first threesome ever that night, it felt good and all but it was with the guys you work with and you have to see this morning.
You promised yourself sincerely that this cannot happen again no matter what, you know it can cause trouble for the two of you, well right now it’s for the three of you, but it can’t happen again and you have to keep your promise to yourself.
“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer shouts for everyone, and you finish your last touches on Taehyung with the sitting spray. “You’re all good.”
“Thank you.” He leans forward towards the mirror to check out his face. “What do you think about that night?”
“Not bad, but it can’t happen again.” You carefully whisper low enough so you can’t be heard.
“I know right? I don’t think I liked the attention stolen away from me—“
“No Taehyung. The whole thing in general, it can’t happen again.”
“Let me help you change your mind, come here.” He leaves his chair and grabs your wrist to pull you out of the makeup room into another room in the studio. “Remember the first time we slept together? Back in London.”
“Yeah.” How could you forget?
“Don’t be mad, but I filmed us having sex.” He looks at you, waiting for your face to change, and you giggle in disbelief. “Of course you didn’t, I didn’t see any cameras.”
“Well practically, you were blindfolded in the first half.” He shrugs and opens the movie on his phone, thinking he did something he’s going to be credited for, or thinking he did you a favor and you’re going to thank him any second now.
But cold sweat washed through your entire body, your limbs feel numb gradually all the way from your fingers to your shoulders, your ears are buzzing and you’re practically dizzy at the view you see. “You can’t be serious.”
The look of disbelief in your face was genuine. A couple days ago you were filmed with your consent, but that time you were filmed behind your back?
“Just  watch it before you say anything, you’re gonna love it.”
“Why would you do that?” 15 minutes into the video you ask him, your hands barely able to hold onto his phone, at the point the amount of sweat your body released was enough to make you dehydrated, you kept swallowing repeatedly but your throat was dry.
“Well… you agreed to be filmed the other day didn’t you?”
“Oh so that makes it okay to do it?” You argue. “Is this why you blindfolded me? So I wouldn’t see you filming?”
“Y/N you’re being delusional.” The audacity on this man to gaslight you.
“Delusional? How exactly am I delusional?” You push him. “Taehyung you literally filmed me without my consent, this isn’t delusional this is a fucking crime.”
He breaks into laughter, totally unbothered to look back at you. “Relax, I’ve already showed you content on my phone and yours will be like any of them, it just stays on my phone for reference, whether it was the one from London or the other night.”
“Yeah, it means you’re showing it to your next victim.” You shut your eyes tightly still wishing this is a nightmare of some sort. “Okay, let’s just calm down and choose the easy way out, delete them both.”
He scoffs at you as it you just told him a joke. “Of course I won’t, in fact next time we’re filming it again.”
“Let’s be clear, there will be no next time. And I’m in this video, don’t you think I have a say in it? Please delete it.”
“Well, I filmed, produced, and was in the video, I get a say in it too.” He finally gets up. “And honey, there will be a next time, and you will be filmed, otherwise, you’re not going to be happy with I might do.”
“You can’t force me Taehyung.” You take a step back, “Oh no, I’m not going to force you god forbid, you’re going to willingly come to me and ask to be filmed Y/N, and it’s for your own good.”
You watch him unlock his phone and replay the video again, this time your face is on full reveal right after you took your blindfold off. “I don’t think your family would be happy when they see their daughter being fucked till she can’t walk, and most importantly, I don’t think your superiors are going to be happy when they see you fool around with an idol.”
Oh my god, how did you not see this coming?
Of course someone who begs girls to get into bed and films them doesn’t just film them for his own pleasure. He films them all just to blackmail them into sleeping with him again, and obviously it worked on anyone.
But it can’t work on you, you’re smart and you will probably figure your way out of this at some point.
“I’m blindfolded and cuffed in the video you dumb fuck, it’s very clear I was the one forced into this.” Except you weren’t forced into this and that’s where the major problem is. You willingly went to his room and you agreed to sleep with him, and oral consent legally counts. And the other night the camera was right onto your face and you were totally okay with it. It’s partially your fault too for agreeing to go into this.
He turns the volume up with a smug smirk on his face as he proves to you that you weren’t forced into this.
“I need to cum. Taehyung please, don’t stop.”
“Again, please, do it again”
“Do you wanna be fucked or not?”
“Yes please.”
“But isn’t this you begging to be fucked?” He takes a step closer and you quickly snatch his phone and throw it across the studio which makes him get a grip of your wrist and forcefully push you to face the wall. “Listen sweetheart, we both know how much of a slut you are, you agreed on going through this willingly but we’re finishing this my way, so be a good girl and act smart for once.”
“Taehyung let go.” The tight grip on your forearm hurts, you tried to fight and push him away but you couldn’t when his body is fully pushed against you. “Please let go.” Your voice has already gone shaky, worried he’d do something to you or even hurt you more than he already did.
He could easily kill you and no one will find out considering everyone else was occupied on the set.
“Tomorrow night, I’m texting you the location, be there at 8, otherwise, it’s going to be a serious problem and you don’t want your life to be destroyed don’t you? I could just post that video and no one would look at you the same ever again, you’d lose your job and no one is going to hire you.” He feigns kindness and tugs your hair behind your ear before caressing the side of your face and pressing a kiss onto your cheek. “And I know you’re smart enough to not let that happen.”
You look at him over your shoulders as your tears roll down your cheek. “Save your tears, any attempts of messing around, I want you to keep in mind that I have several copies of that video.”
“What did I ever do to you?” You question him, wondering if you actually did anything to him before that he needs to take his revenge this way but no, you two always kept it professional but the way this man was built was unlike any other man.
A toxic grown up who uses his position, if it’s considered one, to blackmail women and manipulating them into fulfilling his weird kinks willingly. It sucks that you too fell into his trap.
He collects his phone and tilts his head while laughing psychotically. “My god, you actually look scared right now, you realize you don’t have to be, right? Don’t you trust me?”
Clearly not.
“Oh I get it, since this clip clearly contains you showing up to my room back in London, hmm.. a staff member showing up to an idol’s room, this obviously means that you were trying to persuade me into something, or worse, it could look like you’re actually seducing me.” He looks around pretending to think. “If that were the case I guess people should probably know, they might just go ahead and fire you and you’ll be labeled for the rest of your life as the staff member who actually harassed the idol.”
“What are you? And how are you hiding all of this?” Your chest heaves, the man has already planned anything ahead of time and he clearly knows how to set you up if you don’t show up to your sex appointment, but it wasn’t only you who’s threatened. These exact same words were told to everyone, hence they all slept with him again and again.
“I don’t want this video out either, but it’s all up to you right now baby.” He puts on his shirt and collects his stuff. “See you tomorrow.” He presses another kiss to your cheek and leaves  the workout room leaving you standing against the wall helpless.
You don’t know what’s next, but you surely know that you can’t have sex with him ever again and you need to earn yourself time before tomorrow to be able to figure out a plan.
How come girls are treating him well even when he blackmailed them? They all slept with him but they never warned each other, gosh you’re starting to think that maybe you should talk to someone about this maybe they could help.
Help? How exactly when they fell into this trap before you and they surrendered to it and chose to agree and sleep with him again. You collect your stuff and head back home, you need to think or probably sleep on it before figuring an actual solution that will get you out of this.
Yeah, sleep on it, you scoff when it’s already past 3 in the morning and you’re still flipping in your mattress. It’s killing you that you’re totally clueless and nothings comes to your mind other than just give up and sleep with him again to save your career and your reputation.
You take your phone out and fully decide on texting him.
3:27 | You.
What do you want from me?
You’re crossing your fingers hoping that he’s awake, you see the read receipts within a minute before he calls you and  you answer right away, you can’t waste anymore time.
“Why are you still up?”
“What do you want from me Taehyung?” You sit up adjusting the pillows behind your back. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You’re making a big deal out of it.” He sounds like he’s half asleep. “You should be grateful that I’m just asking for sex nothing more.”
“You’re blackmailing me just for sex? Taehyung you literally slept with a countless amount of women, you can go sleep with any of them and just forget what we had.”
“Listen, I don’t have much time to argue about this, just do as I say and be there tomorrow—“
“I’m not gonna be there.” You argue right  away, shrugging your shoulders as if he can see you.
“Oh  really?” He scoffs. “Listen sweetheart, I’m sending the location right now, be there at 8, otherwise you know what’s going to happen.”
“You know what? You’re an obsessive piece of shit and you need to get help.” You hang up and throw your phone away.
Okay think, Y/N. Think.
He could easily post the video and you will easily lose your job and your reputation,  but at the same time, what has he got to lose? There must be a way to stop this but you’re still not thinking well.
You were never an over thinker but tonight you are, imagining what would actually happen if he ended up posting the video, what would your agency think? What would his fans think?
Exactly.
He’s in the video too he can’t post it otherwise it would harm him too, you’re in the video cuffed and blindfolded, but he’s in the video spanking you with an actual belt and even slapping you and that’s considered assault. And the video from a couple nights ago, you’re a helpless woman sandwiched between two grown up men, it’s pretty clear that you were talked into it.
But you also need to set him up somehow, you’re thinking that you may have to go tomorrow night just to convince him that you’re okay with what he wants. You need to plan this carefully in order to take him down.
-
You have something, or an idea on how you’re going to set him up, but it’s going to cost you an extra night with him and you just have to force yourself in order to protect your career and what’s left of self worth.
“Good morning.” He enters the room and takes his top off, they’re filming another episode of their variety show before heading out to film something overseas next week. The rest of the staff get to work and you do too, putting the headband on to pull his hair back. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”
He  looks at your reflection for a second, your call ended last night with you calling him ill so he wasn’t sure if you were talking to him. “Oh yeah?” He sounds suspicious.
“Mhm.” You look around and lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I was watching this movie, and it made me want to try some things out with you.”
He was quickly lured into the subject and he low key thinks you’re being for real, he may be smart and shit, but he’s still a man, and men are so easy to seduce. He smirks and turns his head to face you. “What is it?”
“Remember when we discussed slapping before? You told me that I could ride your uhm.. you know.” You’re truly disgusted with yourself, are you really doing this?
Jungkook is watching your reflection through the mirror and he can see you inching forward to whisper into his ear which makes Taehyung bite onto his lip and close his eyes. “Yeah, we could totally do that, but hey what made you change your mind?”
Not only Jungkook is watching, but the rest of the girls on the staff are now sure that you two or onto something, and they pity you thinking you don’t already know who the real Taehyung is.
You print a kiss onto his ear and pull back, he looks up onto your lips and bites his own before whispering. “I could  fuck you raw right here on this chair and I don’t care what people might say.”
You fake a giggle and continue doing your job, secretly wishing you could just stab him in the eye with a makeup brush or probably suffocate him with the band around his head. You feel your eyes filling up with tears. You can’t do this, it can’t happen again.
-
Taehyung hasn’t had enough time to produce the second movie of your night with Jungkook, his fogged up drunk brain from the other night recalls picking up the cameras and throwing them into his handbag and just going home, too tired to even transfer the files to his iPad or even think about editing them.
Luckily it’s all saved on the memory card so he kept procrastinating until he had enough time after finishing his schedule in the afternoon, he had to rent another B&B or a hotel room since he’ll never invite you to his own place, so he grabs his stuff and drives there to prepare anything and kill some time with editing.
He collects the three memory cards and starts digging through the files, but for some reason he can’t find them. He pouts in confusion and puts the memory cards back into the camera and opens it, searching through the filmed media, and weirdly enough, he can’t find a single video from that night.
Same thing goes for the other two memory cards, and nothing. Were the cameras never filming? Did they forget to press record?
There’s a reason why he has to be sober on nights like these, he needs to be conscious enough to be careful with what he does and how to handle his equipment.
He did in fact forget to press record, even the camera Jungkook had in his hand, there was nothing on it, none of the cameras were recording and you got lucky with that. There’s nothing to prove that you agreed to any of this.
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WIBTA if I left a bad review on a book I haven’t purchased?
(📚📖 to find later)
I’m an audiobook narrator professionally. I do most of my work via independent contracting with a production company. NOTE: they are NOT a publishing house. They do not provide editors/betas/etc for the text, they focus on turning (usually self published) books into audiobooks and marketing those audiobooks.
Most of the books I record with them are great, and I have a lot of fun reading good books! But…some of the books I’ve read for them have been. REALLY. REALLY. bad. Like I personally would have stopped reading within the first few pages bad if it wasn’t literally my job to read the words out loud.
I’m currently reading a book for them that makes me want to tear my hair out. The writing is boring, badly paced, and repetitive. None of the characters are likeable, and the relationships are shallow, the combat is boring, there are no stakes, etc etc. To give you an idea, the main character is the type of kid who on the playground would insist he had a mega super invincibility shield so you couldn’t touch him, but he also had a mega super invincibility shield breaking sword if you decided you wanted a shield too. And the narrative REWARDS HIM for acting that way.
I’ve never left a review on any of the books I’ve narrated before, but this one…i am seriously considering writing a review to try and warn people away from this book.
A few things to consider, though:
1: i am not being paid royalty share from the book, i get a flat rate based on the number of hours in the final audiobook. But as far as I know, the author only starts making money from producing this audiobook once the production company makes back the money they paid me for making it.
2: i would review anonymously/under a fake name and only on the book product page, not the product page for the audiobook version.
3: if an audiobook does not sell, then it is most likely I will not be obligated to continue recording the rest of the series (and it IS a series. At least three books are out as of now. I am currently slated to record them all, provided the audiobook sells decently)
4: the book currently has ~250 reviews already, and a 4.7/5 rating (how???? get some fucking standards), so it’s not like I’m leaving a 1 star review on something that only has 6 reviews.
I don’t think that one bad review would tank the whole series, but I do feel like leaving bad reviews on a product I didn’t even buy might be a dick move, especially if the author’s pay for this book relies on it selling well. But on the other hand, his book sucks and people should know that.
I wouldn’t be leaving a “0 stars: this sucks” review, I’d want to make it comprehensive and detailed. But I’d also feel bad about that because I’m sure the author reads his reviews, and even though his book sucks shit, i don’t want to like…make someone lose their passion to write? But ALSO if you’re making people pay $16 for the book and/or $40 for the audiobook, maybe the book should be fucking good? Idk.
So, tumblr, WIBTA?
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probeautyproducts · 2 years
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nonbinaryeggrolls · 4 months
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When Someone Tries to Touch Your Hair
JJK men x gn black!reader
I had this idea for a little while and I absolutely love it. As someone who has to literally fight off ppl with a stick to keep them from basically "petting" me, I thought it would be so cute to write about the JJK men sticking up for you
Warnings: Fluff!, no nsfw but MINORS ARE STILL NOT ALLOWED GO AWAY, angst in Gojo's, specified braids/locs/twists in Toji's, unwanted physical touch, I think that's it!
Starring: Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru
MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
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Nanami Kento
Of course he remains calm, he's always calm. but trust, inside he is BOILING with anger
Kento adores your hair, it sounds weird but he loves watching you on wash day care and tend to your hair with such detail and precision. Apart of it is so he can learn to do it himself one day so you won't have to spend so much time doing it yourself
He's always buying the best products for you no matter how expensive he knows black hair care products can be.
Design Essentials, Creme of Nature, Mielle, jojoba oil, tea tree oil, hair masks, curling cream-- you name it (or even glance at it in the store) he's already bought it for you
So seeing someone disrespect you by even attempting to touch you makes him absolutely livid
Kento: "I don't know I didn't think it was all that great, the plot didn't really make a lot of sense." Kento said as you two walked out the doors of the movie theater.
Y/N: "What?! I thought it was good, you're always hating on superhero movies you're like an old person. Oh! the boba place closes at 9:30 did you still wanna--
"Oh my gosh I just have to ask who does your hair? It's so pretty!" A young woman around your age popped up from behind you guys, her intensity kind of startling you a little bit
Y/N: "Oh, thank you that's so sweet! I actually do it myself" you smiled and she looked at you in astonishment
"Really? Wow it looks like it was done by a professional, I bet it takes you so long!"
Kento's eyebrow raise and body stiffen in an almost defensive way, he was already anticipating what was coming next
Y/N: "Yeah, sometimes it can. It kind of just depends on how tired I am that d--
Your body leaned back as she reached out to grab the top of your head. Kento wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back by your shoulders, shooting daggers at the woman as if she had just committed an unforgivable act
Kento: "Please step back. You don't need to touch them to compliment them." he reprimanded and held a firmer grip on your shoulder. He wasn't going to yell at a woman he didn't know but he sure as hell was going to get his point across
"O-oh Im sorry I didn't mean anything by it. I just think it looks really ni--
Kento: "Then you can think it's nice from a distance, they're not a dog. Have a good night." Kento intwined your hand in his and led you away to the car. You looked up at him and a small grin grew across your face
Kento: "Don't look at me like that."
Y/N: "You're like a guard dog. Like a snappy little golden retriever." you giggled before planting a kiss on his jaw which he returned with one on the top of your head
Kento: "Cmon lets go get boba."
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Toji Fushiguro
Rage, Rage, and more RAGE
The anger that fills this mans body when someone tries to touch you is immeasurable, ESPECIALLY if its a man
Sometimes you have to calm Toji down when someone tries but its no use, he's already out of his seat and practically ready to kill
Toji is definitely someone who values his personal space, so he completely understood your frustration when you talked about how crazy it is that some people think its okay to try and touch you without permission
He's only seen it happen a few times, thankfully most people had common sense. But there was always that one asshole that crosses the line
You and Toji were out on a late night supply run getting items for Megumis science fair project. You roamed through the aisles of the arts and craft store filling your basket with acrylic paint, styrofoam blocks, construction paper and glue sticks
Toji: "What kind of fifth grader does a science project on soil erosion? Can't we just do something normal like a volcano or something?"
Y/N: "Are you gonna keep complaining all night or are you gonna actually help find everything on the list?" You turned around mad dogging him, both of you were tired and a little bit cranky and snappy at one another. Most of it was playful but some of it intended
Toji: "You look like a pig when you scrunch your knows like that." He chuckled attempting to pull you in for a kiss
Y/N: "You bitch-- Go get someone to open the spraypaints for us!" You said shoving your hand in his face and pushing his head back. Toji sauntered away to find the nearest employee to assist you guys
You stood alone in the aisle for a few minutes scrolling through instagram to pass the time until Toji came back, until a tap on your shoulder caught your attention. A random man, had approached you attempting to spark a conversation. Your eyes jotted back and forth around the area wondering where tf could Toji be and why was he taking so long to get back
"You got a really pretty smile you know that? Pretty hair too, you do this all by yourself?" He asked and took one of your (protective style)'s in his hands
Toji: "Now you..." Toji came up behind the man and planted a firm grip on his shoulder, "...are way too ugly and way too short to think they'd ever want someone like you to touch them. Don't you think?"
The man trembled in place at the vast size difference between the two
"I--"
He couldn't get a whole sentence in before Toji pulled him back by his hair then slammed him head first into the shelves next to him, making the man scream in pain. The star captured the attention of multiple employees and needless to say it wasn't long until you were being led out of the building by security.
Toji: "Did I do too much again?" He asked from the passenger seat, knowing full well he didn't regret his actions
Y/N: "We just got banned from the store, what do you think Toji?"
Toji: "Are you mad at me?"
Y/N: "Yes I'm mad!"
Toji: "Mm. The blush on your face doesn't look like someone who'd be mad at me." He grinned and you tried to hide the smile that started to form
Y/N: "Shut the fuck up."
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Gojo Satoru
Gojo unfortunately was very ignorant to the topic at first
Maybe it was a cultural difference but when you told him people would ask to touch your hair he thought it wasn’t that big of a deal
“If someone admired your hair so much that they want to get close to it shouldn’t that be a compliment to you? It’s like they’re complimenting an artist for their artwork right? I don’t really see the harm in that, I touch Getos hair all the time and he's fine with it.” He said once before
Nonetheless it led to a very heated argument
He didn’t understand all the fuss around it, that was until he saw it actually happen
Seeing how physically uncomfortable you get when someone you don’t know tries to “pet” you put it all in perspective for him
Y/N: “Gojo, hurry we’re gonna miss the train!” You shouted as you ran through the subway station
Gojo: “I’m coming slow down! I don’t wanna drop anything.” He followed closely behind carrying the other bags of groceries you guys got from the farmers market
You both managed to slip through the train doors in time before it departed. You two managed to find two seats by the window, it was a preferred spot that way you both could gaze upon the countryside greenery as you passed on your way back to the city. Gojo leaned against the window and you leaned against his shoulder, the both of you trying to get some rest after a full day of walking.
The train stopped at its next spot to let on a few more passengers and a tap on your shoulder shook you out of your rest.
“Can i touch your hair?” a young woman behind you asked, but she had already reached out her hand before you could even answer. You pulled back before her hand could touch you
“Oh, um no please don’t do that…” you awkwardly said and turned back around. You looked over at Gojo who you know heard everything but was undermining the situation yet again
Gojo: “Calm down she didn’t mean anything by it, go back to sleep.” He dismissed you, not even bothering to open his eyes as he still laid against the window. You let out a low scoff and laid back against your seat instead of Gojos shoulder like you were before
The next few minutes we’re quiet as you dozed back off until you heard a loud camera click and could hear the girl frantically trying to turn the volume down
Y/N: “Did you just take a picture of me?”
“Oh it wasn't a bad one I was just sending your hairstyle to my friend I think it’s cute.”
Y/N: “I don’t care. Don’t take a fucking picture of me if—
“I didn’t even touch you so calm the fuck down…this is why no body likes to compliment you people anyways. You take everything too goddamn seriously.” she muttered the last bit under her breath but still loud enough to pick up. This sentence being the one that finally caught Gojos attention
Gojo: “What was that?” He stood up towering over the young woman
“I-I didn’t say anyth— I’m s-sor—
Gojo: “Shut up. Delete it. Now.” His eyes pierced through her and she scrambled to reopen her camera and delete the photos. She flipped the phone towards his face to show that they were no longer in her folder
Gojo: “Now go to a different seat. And if you touch them against i’ll smash that stupid fucking phone into the fucking concrete.” The young woman ran from her seat to the other side of the train as quickly as possible and Gojo sat back down. He attempted to put his arm around you but you wanted no part in it, for the next 30 minutes you ignored every attempt he made to get a word out of you. Even on the walk home you were cold
Gojo: “Y/N if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t fix it!” he said as you entered your apartment
Y/N: “IVE TOLD YOU WHATS WRONG BEFORE. YOU DONT LISTEN!” you yelled, something he rarely heard you do, “I told you countless times before that people trying to touch me is a reoccurring problem for me and what did you do? You belittled me and made it seem like no big deal. Why did it take someone being blatantly racist towards me for you to actually start caring? Why did I have to prove the problem to you?” He looked back at you with no words just a stunned expression as he struggled to find the right thing to say
Gojo: “I…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” you rolled your eyes at his lackluster reply and turned away to the bedroom
Y/N: “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
Gojo: “Y/N, wait I—
you slammed the door in his face before he could finish his sentence
story belongs to @nonbinaryeggrolls
do not steal
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shopsalonaustralia · 1 year
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lawrites · 5 months
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Rubens Can Suck It!!
Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader
You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.
This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.
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It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.
As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.
You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.
And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.
And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.
Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.
While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.
So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.
After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.
You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.
What is always found on the ground
But never gets dirty?
You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...
"Shadow!" You blurt out.
He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"
You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"
He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."
You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."
He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."
Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."
You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."
Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"
You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."
Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"
Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.
You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."
And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.
He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.
Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.
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Rubens
Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.
A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-
Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.
There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-
Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.
Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.
Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.
And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.
Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.
He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.
-------------------------------------
And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.
Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.
You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.
You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.
Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?
There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.
Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.
You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.
Tap tap tap
You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."
But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.
"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."
You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.
But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.
"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.
Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.
You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."
This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.
"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."
He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."
You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.
When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"
You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."
You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."
You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.
Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.
"While you are not seen by others as a beauty
I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.
Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,
I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."
Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.
Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"
You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"
Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."
Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"
You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."
Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.
Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.
After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.
He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"
You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."
He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"
You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.
One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."
You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"
He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."
You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."
And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.
You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."
You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."
He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"
You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.
"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."
He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"
You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."
You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.
"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."
Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."
He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.
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esskaybeauty12 · 2 years
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femmefatalevibe · 11 months
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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Save (or Saving On)
Fashion:
Socks (I love the HUE ones that come out to around $3 per pair)
Tights (another vote for HUE – around $10-13 dollars a pair and should last at least a season or two with proper care)
Layering tanks & tees
Underwear (buy them on a bulk deal – I love Skims' 3/$36 [on the pricier end here] – or getting luxury items on sale, especially pair from Natori or Hanky Panky [usually come up to around $10-$15 a pair]; Parade also has $6 underwear that's great quality for the price)
Trendy items
Costume jewelry (Mejuri, Aurate, and Justine Clenquet are great for the price; Catbird is the best in the game for a moderate-priced alternative to luxury jewelry in my opinion)
Beauty:
Cleanser
Facial Toner
Makeup Wipes
Acne Spot Treatment
Mascara
Brow Gel
Setting Powder/Spray
Shampoo & Conditioner
Body Wash
Body Scrubs
Hand/Body Lotion
Hand Soap
Vaseline (use it as a lip treatment, cuticles, dry skin patches, or as a hydrating eye cream)
Lip Balm (Palmers SPF 15 is my HG)
Makeup Sponges/Spoolies
Hair Ties
Home:
Lighting
Home Decor
Artwork (I have mostly Black & White photography from iCanvas and get so many compliments on them!)
Coffee Maker (a Black & Decker coffee maker or a French Press is all most people need)
Everyday Dishes & Glassware (I love Sweese, Smilatte, and Luigi Bormioli on Amazon)
Dishwasher-Safe Reusable Food Storage Bags/Snack Bags
Produce Saving Containers
Health & Wellness:
Deva Vitamins/Supplements
Fitness Youtube Workouts
Bulk-buying Oats, Beans, and Other Staple Foods
Frozen Fruits & Vegetables (when not in season, especially)
Listening to Podcasts via Youtube
TED Talks
Services:
Facials
Blowout
Dermaplaning
Teeth-Whitening
Mani-Pedi
Professional/Social:
Owning your full name social handles across platforms
Simple Investment Planning (Roth IRA, HSA, 401K - anything involving index funds)
Get a great headshot (many colleges and universities offer their students/alumni headshots for free)
Cash-back & Travel-miles $0 Fee Credit Cards
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doormatty3 · 7 months
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Dirty Little Nun (Patrick Wilson x Reader)
Masterlist AO3
Summary:
[Patrick Wilson x Female Reader] [Patrick Wilson x You] Interviewing people is your job, you’ve done it for years now - and successfully so, if you may add. What’s not part of your job description, however, is dressing up to conduct said interviews. So when you find yourself wearing a nun costume and enough makeup on your face that no one will recognize you, you are beyond pissed. But the demonic facade may have been a blessing in disguise when you meet Patrick Wilson who keeps flirting shamelessly with you when you are supposed to be asking him questions. All your professionalism is cast aside as soon as he calls you a “dirty little nun” and when he’s leaning against the doorframe of your dressing room after you’ve wrapped up the interview you know that you'll not be leaving the studio anytime soon. OR: Patrick gets on his knees and makes you worship a different type of god.
Wordcount: 11,068
Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, masturbation, semi-public sex, breeding, desk sex, blasphemy, improper use of religious symbols, dirty thoughts
A/N: This is based on that Valak interview.
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You know that this is probably a stupid idea, dressing up in a The Nun costume for the Conjuring 2 interview you were hosting. 
When you said it jokingly in a meeting the production team was all for it, praising you for the good idea that would surely increase the views of the video when it was uploaded on YouTube and entertain your guests. Their support of your stupid idea had caught you completely off guard but you were stuck with it now. At least, they had the decency to buy you a proper costume and facepaint. You would have put up a fight if they had forced you to spend your own hard-earned money on that. 
So now you are stuck in your dressing room, painting your face with the makeup you were given. You had put on the costume beforehand, to avoid any smudging of the makeup that would have happened when you would have eventually pulled it over your head. 
Fuck , you actually wanted to conduct these interviews when you first heard of it. The guests, James Wan and Patrick Wilson are people you find interesting workwise. It would have been fun to chat with them and get some insights on the movie. Maybe secure a photo.
Guess that’s not happening now. 
You sigh, blowing the air out of your lungs as you paint the depth of your eyesockets black.
“10 minutes!” The loud voice of your production manager outside of your dressing room and his knocking on the door pulls you out of your thoughts.
10 minutes until you had to be outside.
10 minutes until you had to face your coworkers and your interview guests.
10 minutes until you were going to make a fool of yourself.
You look into the mirror and staring back at you is the nun: The white face paint with the black accents around your eyes and mouth is spot on, while the yellow contact lenses make your eyes look demonic. You had actually done a good job. 
I still look ridiculous… but at least they will not be able to recognize me outside, you think to yourself.
With a groan, you grab the upside-down cross necklace and the headpiece and put both on, making sure that it covers your up-done hair.
A last look in the mirror confirms that you are good to go and you make your way to the door, ready to face your first guest of today - James Wan, the movie’s director.
—---------------------------
“You’re terrifying! Dear lord”, James screams out upon first seeing you step into view in the interview booth. 
The small man shies away from your hand that is stretched out in an attempt to greet him. You would be lying if you claimed that you weren't pleased with that reaction - you are absolutely delighted. He didn't laugh at you as you had feared at first but is rather genuinely caught off guard and finds it scary. 
You smooth out your costume before taking a seat opposite of him. He is still eyeing you warily, taking in your form -  you have made a lasting impression so far. 
Well, that is a surprise. Let’s see how far we can take this.
You feel rather proud and decide then that you would definitely continue playing that role and try to scare him. 
“Hello, nice to meet you”, you officially greet him while speaking with a lower voice than you normally would, the grin permanently etched on your face. You are trying to make it sound a bit demonic to play into the role you are currently portraying. 
“Nice to meet you as well”, James sits back again looking skeptically at you, “I think…”
You nod, you are still making him uncomfortable and you like it. Against what you had originally believed this is fun. 
“How are you doing?” 
“I am okay… Madam, mister…mister madam”, he is flustered and shy, unsure of what to call you. You haven't given him a name and seeing his reaction you decide that this will stay this way. So you just laugh, making him gulp.
“I am having a hard time looking at you and giving a straight answer”, he confesses. 
Well, the interview will certainly be fun if you are able to throw him off that badly. It is ironic, you think, that the guy who directs spine-chilling horror movies is such a scaredy cat. 
You vow to use that to your advantage and prepare yourself to really kick off the interview now and ask proper questions. While further leaning into your role.
Your conversation is over in what feels like minutes, you are becoming more comfortable with your role as the nun and are enjoying it immensely. You were able to fluster him throughout the interview, utilizing his fear against him. 
But apart from that he was a pleasant interview guest, happy to answer questions if you didn't throw him off his game while having genuine fun talking about his work. He made talking to him easy.
“Thank you very much, it was awesome”, you say to him beaming in your normal voice again as you get up. Your work here is done. 
“No thank you! And take care”, James replies, more at ease now that the interview is over and you don't try to intimidate him anymore.
With a wave you leave the room, making your way down the corridor towards the bathroom. 
That went unexpectedly well.
Against your initial fear and hesitation, this whole nun costume thing seems to pay off. At least it is different from what people normally encounter in interviews.
You have a good few minutes between talks and you want to check on your costume to see if everything is still in place. After stepping into the small room you go straight to the toilet and after finishing up you look yourself over in the mirror - yellow eyes and white face with black details. 
Everything is still fine and nun-like looking. So you just wash your hands and leave the bathroom again in a hurry to return to the interview booth. 
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You hear laughter when you enter the room. 
Patrick Wilson is already sitting in the chair with his back towards you, talking adamantly with the crew in the room. 
That gives you the chance to look him over quickly:  He has short, thick brown hair with the sides shorter than the top of his head. An olive green bomber jacket accentuates his broad physique with strong shoulders and big arms. He is nice to look at from behind you are sure that he looks even better from the front.
You nod at your coworker. It is the signal that you want to start the interview and get the camera officially rolling and the sound captured. After your talk with James, you want to have the first interaction filmed.
The change in atmosphere and sudden movement in the room sets off Patrick, who seems to not have noticed anyone entering. He leans forward a bit, in an attempt to get a better angle to look behind him to see who had just entered the room. 
“Ladies and gentlemen please welcome to the room…”, he starts speaking with a teasing, announcer-like tone of voice. The only thing missing to complete the picture is a drumroll. 
You are walking over to your chair to sit down but you stop in the middle room as he looks at you. 
“Oh wow. This is an entrance. You stole my outfit.” He is joking and kidding in a light-hearted tone, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. 
You are full of confidence after your successful interview with James and you will not let him take that from you. Even if he had already caught you off guard and seized control of the interview and you weren't even talking 5 minutes. You know that you need to do something, this is your interview after all.
You are determined to scare him too, make him lose his composure. Set on your mission, you finally take the last few steps toward your chair that’s opposite him. 
When you move past him, you catch a whiff of his scent. Crisp, invigorating notes of something fresh and woody surround you. It was fucking intoxicating. 
As you sit down you see him clearly from the front for the first time.
His blue eyes, pierce into yours, holding eye contact as you take him in. You notice that he has a fairly straight nose, nice lips, and a subtle beard. He has sideburns which is something that you don’t like under normal circumstances.  But dear god, even those are hot on him. Under his bomber jacket, he is wearing a white t-shirt that is just the right amount of tight on his broad frame. 
He is the complete opposite of James, who is small, scrawny, and more scared than confident. 
You swallow and clear your throat subtly, keen on regaining your confidence.
“Mister Warren. Edward Warren...”, you start, trying to somehow get your interview back under control. And as you set to continue speaking he interrupts you.
“Yes, lovely to see you. You've got a little something right there..” 
Patrick touches his face, and brings his hand to his upper cheek, to show you where you have something in your face. Your eyes follow the movement of his long fingers and you notice the way his arms flex whenever he is moving.
You had checked your makeup in the bathroom not even 10 minutes prior, you know that you are fine yet you still instinctively touch your cheek where he motioned. It is like he knows that he makes you nervous. That he knows that he can throw you off your game. And so far, you are powerless to do anything against it, completely caught off guard.
As he sees that you are doing what he told you, he smiles cheekily, baring his teeth: “I'm kidding…”
He leans back in his chair. His eyes are still focused on yours as if nothing else in the room was of importance.
Is he.. Flirting with me? 
His demeanor is still completely overwhelming you and you feel like a little schoolgirl talking to her crush unable to form any coherent sentence. So you clear your throat again before making another attempt to speak and steer the conversion to a different topic.
“You are a funny man, Edward… ”
You touch your headwear and tuck on it just like you would with your hair - a nervous tick you never could quite get rid of, “Or should I just call you Ed?” 
You lean a bit forward and try to distance yourself from the feeling that you have when you look at the ridiculously attractive man sitting opposite you. Your form is tense as you are watching him, while Patrick is the equivalent of calm and composed.
“You can call me whatever you like”, he smiles at you and looks down at your feet, “in your pointy shoes. You’re like an elf…”, 
That… is not an answer you were expecting and once again you just stare at him for a few seconds, unable to form any sentence on the fly. You are thinking of an answer but any funny retort that you may have thought of just vanishes from your mind when he lifts his head again and his eyes zero in on yours.
“Like a very beautiful elf”. 
You can feel yourself blushing underneath your makeup and never had you been so grateful for the thick layer of face paint that you applied. 
All the control that you may have thought you had is gone. He plays you like a piano and he is fucking  Mozard. You cannot do anything against the magnetic pull you feel towards him. Goddammit you are a professional journalist, you should be able to just get a grip.
You wet your lips nervously, you know that you just have to follow whatever game he is playing even if you don’t like it. Something just tells you that he won't stop teasing and probing you.
When you open your mouth to ask the next question he leans forward a bit, tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrow. A subtle way of telling you to speak up and letting you know that he is impressed that you are trying so hard to regain control you obviously don’t have.
“I”, your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence, so you start again: “I’ve heard that you were a spirit hunter?” 
“I'm not really a hunter more often an aficionado of spirits”, he looks directly into your eyes again “I welcome them…”.
Patrick pauses before you can ask any follow-up question but rather continues speaking:  “I'm glad you're here”. 
Oh God, he IS flirting with me.
A strangled “Thank you” falls from your lips. You aren’t able to say anything more articulate or smarter when the realization hits you. You know that your behavior, well more your reaction to him is unprofessional at best but he is definitely enabling it.
He doesn’t let you off the hook and goes even a tad further: “Yes, you look beautiful.” 
That is a lie - you look strange at most in your costume, maybe scary if you count James’ reaction to you. But it still catches you off guard, your face is still hot, and feel your palms get sweaty.
He is the one who looks beautiful, not you. 
Only when Patrick thanks you with a pleased smile and you realize that you said that out loud and not thought of it in your head, silently. It isn’t even a lie, he does look insanely good but you did definitely not want to let him know that way.
The next few questions go over smoothly. You are flustered to no end, you don’t know what to make of the man in front of you. Is he like that all the time? Or does he just enjoy flustering you? 
Every interaction is pushing you towards your limit, like a drop of water that is continuously filling up a glass. But there is nothing you can do against that. You could call him out of course but… that would create a weird situation.
You hate yourself a bit for the strong reaction you are having to him. Even though you interviewed many good-looking guys a situation like that never occurred. And you never reacted so strongly to someone you were interviewing. 
“Do you believe in spirits?”, you ask, “I am a woman from God after all.” 
Just a normal interview question for a horror movie about demons and such. 
Patrick looks at you smirking, the left corner of his lip curling into a smile: “That you are… and a very beautiful one at that.” 
That has been the second time that he called you beautiful in the short span of your talk. You are flattered but you also wonder, why he cannot answer your question normally with a yes or a no.
“Thank you I only accept it professionally though… ” 
He laughs at your response and you feel your stomach flip at the sound. It is not your best comeback but it may be enough to give him the hint that it was too much for you. That you would like to keep it professional. You are pretty sure that you feel the eyes of your coworkers on you, judging you. But you don’t know if you're only imagining that.
“Yeah no we're not crossing that…” he pauses for a short moment as if he is contemplating what to say next. And as his blue eyes meet yours again, he has a mischievous look about him. 
That is not a good sign, you think to yourself.
“Could you imagine what our kids would look like though?” 
That question hits you like a lightning strike, rendering you motionless for a second. You swallow dryly suddenly your mouth inhabits the bare lands of the Sahara - void of every bit of moisture. 
Once again he manages to catch you off guard and in a moment of every logical or coherent thought being gone from your brain you mumble: “Well, maybe I can”. 
As soon as those words leave your mouth you know that you made a mistake. 
First of all, you did not mean to blurt that out, it was a sudden thought that crossed your mind when he asked you the question. 
Secondly, you are fighting your obvious attraction, and up until now, you thought you made a good effort to not give in and not to show him what he is doing to you. 
You freeze as the weight of the words really hits you and you cannot do anything else than stare at Patrick. 
He is looking at you smiling, the crowfeet around his eyes are prominent from how big he is grinning as he subtly crosses his legs. 
“You dirty little nun”, he speaks deeper than he did before, with a raspy tone of voice while he emphasizes every word, his tongue caressing every syllable as his eyes hold yours. 
An almost inaudible whimper escapes your lips upon his words before you are able to compose yourself. 
By the way, he is still looking at you he definitely heard it. 
You feel wetness pooling between your legs as warmth spreads over you. One part of you wishes that he would say that in a more intimate setting, something that involves much less clothing. You want him, desperately. 
But the other part wishes that the interview and teasing would just stop.
You clear your throat and from your lips spill an incoherent stream of words, you are not able to form one proper sentence again. 
You eventually regain your composure at least a little bit and you ask your next question: “Do you believe in spirits?“ 
It is a harmless one and you can cool down since he can just answer with a longer sentence without flirting with you. 
“No“, Patrick pauses and looks at you. He seems more content after that previous question and your slip-up. 
“But if they are mean I’m gonna fight them and I will be victorious”.
He looks at you challengingly, an eyebrow arched. After all, you are a spirit fighting him you guess? Not him directly but rather the attraction and the pull that you feel. And you are dressed as the spirit that haunts him in the movie.
“But you don’t believe in them? So they are not there?” You want a more shaped answer because it just got interesting.
“Well…sometimes they are there, sometimes they are not.” His eyes drill into yours again, as he speaks his next words.
“If something is in front of me that is challenging me - mocking me - then you may see a different side of me”. 
By the way, he is looking at you, completely focused and somewhat stern it doesn’t feel like a conversation about his belief in spirits anymore - not that it ever was. To you, it sounds like he will do something if you don’t stop challenging him. You would like to see that different side that he is talking about nonetheless and you cannot help but wonder how he’d react if you were bratty while fucking. If he’d be gentle in correcting you or harsh and dominant. 
Reaching for the notepad under your chair you try to ground yourself and get rid of the inappropriate thoughts you have about Patrick. You’re here to interview him, not to fantasize about ripping his clothes off. 
For the next few questions you take down notes to keep yourself centered and your thoughts from running havoc - and it actually does work. Even if you are writing down nonsense and sometimes just scribbling something down. 
But at least you can physically hold onto the pen and break the intense eye contact with Patrick from time to time. 
“Can I see your notes?”, Patrick asks as he becomes aware of the distraction. 
Your eyes snap up from your notepad and you notice that he sits very straight, looking at you down his nose. His stance reminds you of a teacher, stalking through a classroom, looking over students’ shoulders to see what they are writing. 
You feel hot and flushed - embarrassed that he caught you. 
Instead of answering him you just keep quiet, thinking of a way to steer the conversation away from that. 
When he notices that you have no intentions of answering him he wets his lips: “What language do you write in?”
“In…”, you start but the way his arms flex when he runs a hand over his leg distracts you momentarily, causing you to lose focus. Only when he raises a damn eyebrow again, you continue speaking: “...old Latin.”
You just panic blurted out something that seemed fitting to the situation - you don’t write or speak Latin. Judging from the sceptical but amused look on his face he knows that too.
How is he able to throw you off so badly? It is like your mouth is quicker than your brain today, letting every stupid thought slip. 
“Really?”, he sounds condescending with his head tilted a bit to the side, eyebrow arched, “Show me, I don’t believe you”.  
He pauses, before looking at you intensely and leans back against the chair, crossing his arms and legs: “I think you’re a liar.”
You feel your nipples harden under his judging and waiting glance of his sparkling blue eyes and you squirm on your chair when you finally press out a whiny: “Why?”
Patrick tries to coax you into giving in, with his voice soft and gentle: “Just let me see… Speak some Latin to me.” 
God, the way he pronounces every word and syllable makes you think that he wants you to speak something else apart from Latin, that he wants to know the filthy thoughts in your brain. Because by now you are sure that he knows what you are thinking about and he enjoys it. 
Briefly, you wonder, if he would demand you to cum so softly too while he is buried inside you.
“Vade retro satana…”, he starts citing Latin exorcism literature and looks down at you, breaking you out of your thoughts, “How does that do you?”
“What?” You swallow dryly, this is turning you on a lot more than it should, like some really weird foreplay.
Patrick’s eyes sparkle mischievously, as he tilts his head again and his lips slowly curve into a smirk and he lifts his eyebrows. Only a low hm? leaves his lips. 
The situation overwhelms you and you begin to stutter a stream of what? and erm leaving your mouth as he leans forward and nods every time you try to speak something.
If you were doubting that he knows what he is doing to you, you don’t doubt anymore. He knows and he likes it. The grin is full on his face, his teeth exposed as he watches you squirm on the chair under his scrutinizing gaze, struggling to form words and sentences that make sense.
You notice him readjust subtly. It’s only a quick movement over the top of his pants with his hand and as soon as the moment is over you’re not sure, if you imagined the fleeting gesture. By now you contemplate just slipping him your number, to give you an opportunity to properly flirt back without the looming threat of your coworkers and workplace. 
“Do you…”, you start clearing your throat softly, before starting again, “Do you believe spirits and humans can be friends ?”
You underline your question with a clumsy hand movement, intertwining your fingers to show the connection while looking at him. You hope that he gets the hint with what exactly you mean.
Patrick’s mood changes without warning when he hears your question, the air in the room shifting, as he sits up straighter and breaks eye contact. He takes in a deep breath, the flirtiness that persisted the whole time you were talking is suddenly gone, replaced by annoyance. 
“This is the third time you are coming onto me. And it scares me.”
Shit, did you misread the situation? Did you just make the whole flirting up, had your mind been playing tricks on you? 
If you weren’t wearing white face paint already you are sure that your face would have been white. All the color had drained upon his reaction, almost immediately. You feel your heart beating fast and all-consuming anxiety building up in your stomach from the whiplash that you just experienced.
Heartbeat is loud in your ears and your voice is shaky and unsteady as you ask: “So, that’s a no?”
“No, that’s a yes”, that mischievous look is back in his eyes and his lips are curved into a smile as he watches you.
It takes a few seconds before your anxiety disappears into thin air upon his response and is replaced by that warm, fluttering in your stomach as well as the blush creeping back on your face. 
Patrick loves flustering you, you are sure of that as he chuckles and smirks at your feeble attempt to form a coherent sentence. At least, you know that you have definitely not misread the situation you think, as you look at him.
You watch him as he reaches for his glass of coffee that’s standing under his chair. His large hand closes around it delicately and you wish that it was you that he was softly encircling with his fingers. 
“I don’t usually take a sip of coffee during an interview”, he bows his head down a bit to reach for the straw with his lips, “But this is a different interview.”
And then he sucks. You watch mesmerized as he slurps the coffee from the glass and stare at his lips that are pursed around the straw. His eyes are trailed on yours as he drinks. 
Would he keep his eyes locked on yours while he ate you out or fucked you just as he does now? Or would he whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Both are plausible you think as you unconsciously, wet your lips, while you watch him drink.
Patrick swallows loudly, making you watch his Adam’s apple as it bobs. Oh god how you wanted to sink your teeth there, how you wanted to taste his skin until you had memorized what he tasted like.
“Well, now I have a little gift for you”, you tell him after he puts the glass away.
You pull out a cross from a pocket in your robe, holding it upside down and extending your hand toward him. The cross is as big as your hand and made from metal, with rounded edges and a chain eyelet so it could be worn on a necklace without irritating the skin. It is still rather pretentious and you couldn’t imagine someone wearing that around their neck. But it is still a funny present - or so the production team thought. 
The hand in which you hold the cross is shaking slightly and you try to will your arm into being still and suppress the tremor.
“Turn it upside down”, he says and motions his hand in the according fashion to underline how you should be turning it. 
You just shake your head as a no, and he repeats his plea. At this point you just want him to say okay and take the stupid thing off you, so you further extend your arm.
“Your hands are shaking”
Of course, he notices your trembling hand, shit. You had hoped that he would not observe it or at least not call you out in front of the whole crew and on camera for that matter.
You look pleadingly at him, nodding at the trinket.
Finally, he takes pity on you and takes the cross out of your shaking hand. You let out a relieved breath as you pull back your hand and nervously laugh: “Thank you very much”. 
That concludes your interview with Patrick and you are so glad to leave this room. You stand up and he copies your motion. For a short second, you both stand there before you extend your hand, as a handshake.
Patrick just chuckles, as he takes your hand: “No, thank you ”.
A chill races down your spine as you feel his bare skin on yours.
The contact feels like electricity is passing through you. You hold your breath as you lock eyes again. His hand is big and warm, dwarfing yours.
The handshake is borderline long now, lingering on the edge of unprofessional. As he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand softly, your breath hitches. His eyes are trailed on yours as he takes in your reaction. 
You wish that he would keep touching you, but you have to break the contact - and so you do. You pull back your hand, missing the warmth of his. 
With a final smile, you say goodbye and make your way out of the room without looking back.
You can sense his eyes following you and burning into you. It almost feels like they are lingering on your ass a little bit too long as you leave. 
—----------------------
The way back to your dressing room is blurry and happens in a trance. If anyone asked you, you would neither be able to recall it properly nor in detail. The current goal is just to get home and blow off some steam. The whole ordeal was a lot and your thoughts are racing.
As you remove the heavy facepaint and take off the costume you wonder what Patrick’s game was. Because as much as you enjoyed his attention and the flirting, it feels like humiliation. You take a deep breath to calm your overactive thoughts.
Grabbing a bag, you stuff the costume inside and place it in a corner. Someone will take care of it, you think. It will probably be you on your next workday but at least by then you will have processed the day and be calmer again. 
Tears well in your eyes and you run a hand over your face. You are not sad just overwhelmed and confused. Blinking the wetness in your eyes away you look at the ceiling and wonder how you will be able to face your colleagues again. Maybe you can just convince them that you played along with Patrick’s thing and embraced the whole costume matter, just as you were told. 
In your head that does sound like a good plan - a believable plan. But future-you will tackle that, you decide, There is no use in panicking now, the crew will already have packed up their things and left. You look around the dressing room, wondering where the hell you put your sweater when you arrived earlier that day.  Your whole mind is just too scrambled to remember right now.
A gentle knock on the door derails your train of thought. 
Who can that be?You furrow your brow. Normally everyone is too busy with finishing up their work and getting out of here to check on you.
You open the door and blink in surprise, rendered speechless.
Patrick Wilson is standing outside your dressing room. He is leaning against the doorframe with a gentle smile on his face, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans and his long legs crossed.
As your eyes rake over his form, you notice that he shed the jacket he had been wearing for the interview. 
You take a breath: “What are you doing here -” 
“You’re even more beautiful than before”, you don’t even get to finish your sentence before he interrupts you.
For a moment you feel like a deer in headlights, standing wide-eyed and unable to answer straight away. You don’t know what you - or who - you expected but it wasn’t this. In your mind, you had made peace with the thought that you’d never see him again - as sad as that was. 
Unexpectedly, he gives to time to recover and doesn’t say anything else to throw you off. He only watches you with soft eyes.
“Oh stop”, you say, suddenly the whole situation annoys you. You like whatever this is but you’d much rather like getting home and calling it a day. “The cameras are off, Patrick. You can turn it down”.
You fancy his charm, he makes you feel good and pretty.
You enjoy his attention, the tingling of your skin whenever he lays his blue eyes on you a clear giveaway.
But you are weary of his intention. 
Maybe he is like that in every interview. Actually, you’d bet on it - he’s a good-looking, nice guy. It’s probably just fun for him.
What you don’t understand is why he is on your doorstep right now. 
“Stop what?”
Patrick chuckles as he straightens up from the doorframe. The situation feels strangely personal and different than before. His eyes are locked on yours as he reaches out slowly to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, before resting his hand on the side of your face. The intimate gesture causes you to flush, red creeping onto your cheeks as your breath hitches, 
He wets his lips, the tip of his tongue darting out and you cannot help but let your gaze flicker down and follow the movement. He takes a step forward into the room, his eyes on yours, looking for any signs that you object. When you take a few steps back, wordlessly inviting him in, he complies immediately. 
With a chuckle, he closes the door behind him. This gives you a moment to consider your current situation: you are alone in a room with the man you have been eyefucking since you first saw him. And while you know, that you want him to have his way with you, you still don’t know what his plan is. 
He closes the distance between you and looks down at you, a serious look on his face. Up close you notice the different shades of blue in his eyes. Bright, unwavering and so deep, like the sea. Fucking beautiful. 
You feel the heat his body is emanating surrounding you. 
 “‘m going to kiss you now…”, Patrick’s voice is soft and quiet, he waits for you to object, his eyes looking at you searching. He closes the distance when you don’t say anything and guides his lips to yours. 
He kisses you. It is a soft and light one, barely brushing his mouth to yours. You feel the stubble that dusts his face on yours. The scratching sensation is most welcome. 
When you part he looks at you, smiling: “I wanted to do that since you stepped into that room”. 
You blush and he grins at it, stroking your cheek. Your cheek feels incredibly hot under his soft touch. You reach out, and touch him, giving in to the sensation. Your left hand warps around the curve of his right bicep, feeling his hard muscular arms.
Your right hand comes up to his face, mimicking his motion on your cheek on his. You feel his soft skin and rough stubble on the pad of your thumb as you drink him in. His smile is impossibly wide and you cannot help but return the smile. Your thumb follows the curve of his lips and comes to rest in the dip of his cheek. 
He tilts your head upwards again with the hand on your cheek, kissing you again, deeper this time, his lips parting yours. 
Patrick tastes off the coffee he had been drinking and something sweet that he had been eating. His lips are incredibly soft and yet firm under yours as you return the kiss.  His other hand roams your body, coming to rest at your back to pull you flush against his thick frame. You moan into the kiss and move closer to him. 
You feel his open hand on your back, applying soft pressure to keep you close. The sprawled-out fingers lay still and only his thumb softly stroking you. You can feel the warmth of his hand even through the fabric.
You are desperate for more contact and let your hand wander through his hair that feels soft beneath your fingers and your fingers coming to rest on the nape of his neck. Your other hand moves from his arm to his shoulder, keeping him firmly against you. 
As you break away, breathless you look up towards him. His eyes are significantly darker, the soft blue hue shifted into a darker one, his pupils blown wide. He looks into your eyes from beneath his eyelashes. Patrick dips his head down to kiss the soft spot beneath your ear. You feel his breath fanning over your ear shell as he nibs that spot again you hiss at the sensation.
Encouraged by your reaction he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses down to your neck causing you to shiver at the feeling. A tingling starts at the base of your spine and runs up. 
When he bites down slightly on the soft skin of your throat you cannot help but let a strangled, quiet moan escape your lips as you arch into him. You feel his dick against your belly, hard and thick. 
“You taste as sweet as you look, darling”, he murmurs. His voice is still soft but deeper, lined by lust. “I cannot wait to savor all of you”.
You tighten your hold on his shoulder upon his words, your fingers digging into the hard muscle. Fuck you remember the way he sucked on his straw and your thoughts of how he would look buried between your thighs and now you may get that. 
“Fuck, Patrick ”, was all that you managed to say.
He lowers the hand on your back, brushing it at the hem of your shirt, tracing across the strip of bare skin before letting his hand slide under it and properly feeling the skin of your back. With his open palm, he pulls you closer to him and grinds his erection into you. You tug his head back to yours, kissing him again as his hands travel to your hips.
Patrick lifts you like you weigh nothing and you instinctively wrap your hand around his waist. You moan at the sensation of his fingers digging into your skin and the stretch of his broad abdomen against your open legs. 
He takes a few steps back, sitting you down on the dresser when he kisses you again, cradling your face between his hands. 
You break the kiss and tug on his shirt, a signal for him to take it off. You want to feel his skin on yours and you want to see him. Patrick obliges your wish and pulls it over his head before letting it fall to the floor.
Patrick is solid in front of you as you take him in.
Broad, wide shoulders with a light dusting of hair on his chest that leads into a trail originating just under his belly button, leading further down into the waistband of his jeans. On his defined arms, which you spend a good deal of the interview staring at, you notice a vein leading up his bicep and your fingers itch to trace it and then follow it with your tongue. You want to see and hear his reaction to that.
His hands come to rest on your thighs again, drawing lazy symbols on them making you throb with need. He braces his weight on his arms as he leans in again, locking eyes with you. 
With a wink, he kisses the sensitive spot under your ear again. When he nibbles, sinking his teeth in, you feel a sting of pain turning into electricity, racing up your spine, making you mewl and grab his arms. His skin is hot and smooth under your fingers. Your legs close around his waist again, as he peppers your neck with open-mouthed kisses, pulling him closer. You buck your hips and grind against his hard cock, making him groan softly. 
“You wear too much, sweetheart”
He retreats a bit to stand up again much to your dismay and just as you want to start objecting, he slips his hands under your top, making you shudder. His hands roam the skin softly before he pulls it over your head and lets it fall to the floor, joining his discarded shirt. 
With a strangled fuck he is back on you, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly close as he kisses you. Your hands move to grab his arms, to hold onto something as he parts your lips and slips his tongue into your mouth. As you kiss, you feel his fast heartbeat against your chest which is flush with his.
When parts from your mouth he loosens his hold on you and licks, kisses and nibs his way down to your chest. As soon as he reaches your bare tits, he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and index, making you moan and your head fall back. He repeats the motion and flicks it for good measure, before doing the same thing to your other breast. Patrick then kisses your nipple, giving it a tap with his tongue before blowing onto it. The sudden contrast of cold air on your overheated skin makes you shiver.
“Gorgeous”, he mumbles as he moves his hand over your belly and traces the outline of your cunt through your leggings, skipping lightly over your clit. Want pools in your belly, as you feel the warmth of his palm against you.
You are desperate for more and reach out, cupping his hard cock through his jeans. He groans and his bright eyes find yours are he dips his head to kiss you. 
Involuntarily you buck your hips as his hand traces over your pussy again and he strokes over your clit. You feel the slip of your underwear on your cunt, as he applies light pressure. You in turn follow the outline of his hard dick again. 
With a deep growl-like sound he separates himself from you, lifting his eyebrow: “That’s how you wanna play it? What did I say about mocking ?” 
His long fingers tuck at the waistband of your leggings, pulling it down together with your underwear. It falls and joins your clothing on the floor. 
“I am gonna make you squirm ”, he says when his eyes trail down your body, and end at your cunt.
Patrick puts his hand on your belly, spreading it and pushing you down to lay back. He drops on his knees, his head on eye level with your pussy. When he puts your legs over his shoulders and settles himself between them he lets his fingers trace a soft pattern on your inner thighs, making you moan softly. 
He presses an open-mouthed kiss on the soft flesh of your inner thigh and you revel at the scratch of his stubble, electricity prickling from the spot, before he looks up at you, catching your eyes, and asking: “Are you comfortable?” 
Patrick looks like pure sin between your legs as he looks up at you with dark eyes, asking if you’re fine with what he’s doing. You reach out and press your left hand against his cheek, letting it sit there: “Yeah”
He smiles a toothy smile and kisses the inside of your hand before you pull it back. As you feel his hot breath against your cunt, you let your hand come to rest on the crown of his head, combing his hair back a bit.
You jolt, as when presses a kiss against your clit, before pulling back. That was unexpected. 
With one hand he ghosts over your clit, before tracing it through your slit. You moan at the feeling of his hot fingers parting your cunt. Patrick wraps an arm around your waist, before drawing slow circles and lazy patterns around your clit. You squirm beneath his touch, fuck, the pressure is too light to bring you closer to an orgasm. 
“Patrick, please ”, you whine, desperate for him to give you more as you tuck slightly on his hair.
He lifts his gaze that was focused on your cunt before and meets your eyes, with a slow smile he says: “I like it when you beg, sweetheart”
Patrick guides one long finger into your cunt, keeping his eyes locked on you, to see your reaction. The motion is oh so slow and you feel every ridge of his knuckles as he nudges inside you. You let out another breathy please when he twists it to drag it along the walls of your pussy. You are bucking your hips when he adds a second one, curling and twisting slowly inside you, not bothering to quicken his pace. 
He swipes his thumb over your clit with a lazy movement, making you moan and you tighten your grip on his hair, tugging lightly at the strands. You are desperate for him to do something quicker. You feel like you are slowly going insane as he continues to thrust his fingers slowly into your pussy, dragging and turning them, while softly massaging your clit. 
You whine when he pulls back and sit up a bit as you hear rustling.
“You remember that?”, his eyes sparkle and his smile is wide as he holds up the cross you had gifted him at the end of the interview. 
Your eyes go wide, surely he’d not fuck you with the cheap metal crucifix? But if you're completely honest, you don't particularly care what he does as long as he does something. The thought is lost as quickly as it was there when you feel Patrick drag his cheek over the soft skin of your inner thigh, making you perceive the rough scratch of his beard. You shiver and moan against him as you feel puffs of his hot breath against your cunt, making you forget again.
And then finally his mouth is on you. Thinking in any way becomes impossible, as you fall down flat onto the dresser, unable to keep yourself up in any way.
“Oh god”, you groan as he closes his lips around your clit, suckling lightly and then flicking his tongue over the bud in a single, gentle circle. 
His arm around your waist is keeping you steady and in place, as you arch your back and tense your thighs. He lets out a low moan and you feel it vibrate through your body, adding to the sensation. With a slow and dexterous tongue and fingers, he builds you slowly. Gently learning what makes you squirm, buck, arch, and shiver. You hear the wet sounds of his tongue against your cunt as you wither beneath him. 
He sinks the thick end of the cross inside you unexpectedly. You curse out a hoarse fuck as you feel the cold metal inside your hot pussy. Upon your reaction, he smirks and likes a broad stripe over your clit, before sucking on it.
The combination of his hot tongue circling the bundle of nerves and the cool, stiff crucifix dragging against your walls makes you buck your hips. He thrusts it inside you a few times, making you hear the squelch sound of your cunt as he fills you up with the religious symbol. 
When he pulls it out he lets it fall to the group, where it lands with a clank. You whine again at the loss of contact, you feel empty. 
But he shushes you and sinks two of his thick fingers inside you again and puts the flat of his tongue on your clit before twirling it around the nub. You spasm against him as he curls them against your walls, thrusting deliberately. 
Patrick alternates between sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it while twisting and turning his fingers inside you.
You frantically bury one of your hands in his hair again, keeping him in place, afraid that he may stop. Your other hand finds his shoulder and grips down hard. You mumble and moan as he brings you to the edge of your climax. He applies more pressure while sucking lightly and with the heavy drag of his fingers you feel the cord inside you snap.
As he makes you cum you clench around his fingers while letting out a stream of words consisting of oh fuck, oh god and oh Patrick, your voice strained and thick with desire. 
Patrick doesn't let up but rather keeps you high through it. He still pumps his fingers lazily into your pussy, the wet noise obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, as he licks and kisses every erogenous zone in his reach. Only when your thighs begin shaking and you let out a whine, he stops and withdraws his fingers, pressing one last kiss on your cunt. You come down from your orgasm, slowly drifting back into reality as you sit up a bit and look at the man who just gave you a mind-shattering orgasm.
Patrick looks filthy. His hair is ruffled and in disarray, strands poking in every direction from you continuously raking your fingers through it. His chin and neck are glistening, drenched in your wetness. His pupils are blown wide with lust and look almost black. 
He smiles proudly and wide, as you lie bonelessly before him and pulls you up to kiss you. Patrick wraps his arms around you, embracing you, while he devours you. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. 
He breaks the kiss, and leans forward so his hot breath fans over your ear as he speaks in a low voice: “I was right, you taste divine ”
As the words register in your brain you whimper against him. You feel the sticky wetness between your thighs and the fatigue that settles in your stomach. And yet, you want more. You want that charming, soft man to dismantle you, so the only coherent thing you remember is his name and, how he feels around you, how he feels inside you.
So as his breath tickles over your ear, you lick a broad stripe over his thick neck up to his jawline. He groans into your ear, a deep guttural sound that has a surprised undertone. Patrick kisses your earlobe as you pepper hot kisses on his jaw, feeling the brush of his stubble against your lips. 
He turns his head, rubbing his nose against your cheek before pulling back. His breath comes on heavy puffs, making his broad chest rise and fall rhythmically. The veins on his muscular arms are even more defined now. You notice the obvious bulge he is sporting, his hard cock straining against his jeans.
Patrick meets your eyes, a cheeky smile on his lips as he looks at you. His hand comes up to scratch the back of his head and your eyes follow the movement of his arm, marveling at the way his bicep flexes.  
"I'd love to take this further, but I don't have a condom…" He trails off, apologetically.
You feel a pang of disappointment upon his statement - you want him to fuck you, everything else be damned. You don’t typically have sex with people you just met - especially not without proper protection. But fuck you don’t care right now.  
“I don’t either…”, you pause and you notice the shine of disappointment in his eyes that mirrors your feelings, “But I’m clean and on the pill”.
His blue eyes snap to yours, dark and full of lust. 
“You sure?”, he asks you sincerely, with a rough voice. He's hesitant, not sure if he should give in. You can see the battle behind his eyes, barely restrained desire shining bright in them.
“Yes, I’m sure. Fuck me, Patrick, please ” 
Of course, you’re sure, there is nothing you want more than him at this moment. To underline your words you let your hand brush over the bulge in his jeans, feeling his hard dick twitch.
The last piece of his resolve crumbles as he lunges forward, connecting your lips in a crushing kiss, ravaging you. You cannot help but moan into the kiss as you return it with the same fervor, the fire within you sparked by his reaction. 
His strong hands fly over your back, touching as much skin as he can with his fingers spread out. In turn, you bury your hands in the flesh of his upper arms while you continue making out. He grinds his clothed cock into your bare cunt. You moan when you feel the scrape of his jeans, the sound is swallowed by your kiss.
Patrick’s lips curve into a smirk as he repeats the motion, with more force this time. The burn against your pussy feels delicious and you tighten your hold on his arms, knuckles turning white. 
“Are you going to soak my pants?”, he rasps against your lips. His words are accompanied by a particularly strong and rough push of his bulge against your cunt.
You clench down on nothing, and as you feel the fabric against your clit you grow more and more desperate and tired of the teasing. As much as you like that he takes his time figuring out what you like and how to push your buttons - you want more and you want it now. 
When you separate, you are both breathing heavily. Patrick turns his head to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses against your jaw and throat before nipping slightly at the soft skin there. By now you are sure that he marked your skin good and well.
While he continues you loosen the grip of your right hand on his arm. With slight pressure, you use your nails to slightly graze over his chest and abdominal muscles on your way to the waistband of his jeans making Patrick groan. 
You tug at the leather belt, trying to manipulate the prongs of the buckle in hopes of releasing the tension that holds it in place. He watches you intently, eyes fixed on your shaking hand as you finally manage to pull the strap through the frame. 
Before you can reach for the button of his jeans he beats you to it, undoing it swiftly with a motion of his hand, clearly also desperate to get it off now. Patrick shoves his pants and underwear over his hips. They pool at his feet and he steps out of them before kicking them off to join your other discarded clothes. 
You watch as his cock springs free, and hits his stomach, hard and leaking precum. He wraps a hand around the base, giving himself one pump. 
He is absolutely gorgeous as he stands before you with a hand on his dick, his skin shining and dewy with sweat, chest heaving, and a look of fierce determination on his face. 
You dip your head towards his upper arm.
Finally, you indulge in the mindless impulse to run your tongue over the prominent, protruding vein on his bicep. Tasting salt and sweat as you leave a wet trail before you pull back. 
“I’ve wanted to do that since you took off your jacket”
A rumbling, deep groan leaves Patrick’s mouth before he rushes forward, cradling your face between his hands and bringing his mouth to yours. He kisses you hungrily, pressing his hot body against yours. Instinctively your hands snake around his back, holding him in place as you return the kiss. You feel his hard, hot cock twitch against your pussy and you mewl into his mouth, fuck you want him.
He untangles himself from you with one last soft peck against your lips and lets his eyes wander towards your cunt. With his dick in one hand, he goes on to trace the outline of your pussy with the blunt head of his dick, just barely nudging the entrance as you whimper beneath him. He uses his other hand on your hips to keep you steady.
Patrick presses your swollen, aroused labia against his cock, as if trying to create another slit to fuck, as he bucks against your wriggling form, coating his dick in your juices.
When he finally pushes his dick into you, you moan loudly at the stretch against your swollen cunt. Patrick’s head falls against your shoulder, groaning as he gives you a moment to adjust to him, his fingers tracing your hipbones. Your pussy throbs around him.
He pulls back just as slowly, leaving only the tip in.  Before pushing back in, grinding against your clit when he’s buried deep enough, making you feel every inch of him. Each and every one of his deep but slow thrusts is agony. 
You arch your back and close your legs around him in an attempt to get him to move. 
When a weak pleasure falls from your lips, he retaliates and finally starts thrusting inside you hard. You moan when you feel the drag of his dick inside you, filling your cunt. His right hand pulls you up into a kiss, while the other one is still gripping your hip. Patrick breaks the kiss and looks down at your pussy to watch his cock disappear inside you. 
“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart”, he grinds out while his eyes are trailed on your cunt as he trusts, a raw and primal look in them. 
You follow his gaze to watch his cock disappearing inside of your cunt over and over, slick with your fluids. 
The grip on your hips tightens when he looks up again, giving you a wink before he starts fucking you in earnest, ramming into you and you’re sure that you are ruined. Your hands dig into his shoulders, trying to hold on as he continues to drive into you, the sharp slap of his hips echoes in the room. Your mouth parts and moans spill from your lips. 
“Will you soak me, like you’ve soaked my fingers, darling? Like you’ve soaked the cross?”, he mutters lowly as he pounds into you in sharp thrusts, his blue eyes burning into yours. You hear the wet noises of his cock every time he bottoms out inside your cunt and you don’t doubt that it drips down his balls, staining the desk he’s fucking you on.
You meet him thrust for thrust, pushing your hips back into him and trying to match his rhythm. He twists his hips, changing the angle at which his cock drags against the walls of your cunt, making you yelp as he hits the spot that makes your back arch against him. 
You know that he’s observing your reaction since he does it again, and again. Digging deep into your pussy, as you moan and whimper. It feels like he is sparking a flint inside you. Every drag, every pull, every thrust sparks the fire inside you, bringing you closer to actually explode or go up in flames.
His breath is hot against your ear, voice low and rough, underlining how much of an effect you’re having on him: “You’re gonna cum for me?”
A drop of sweat travels down his broad chest until it is caught by the sparse hair on his abs, you see the shake in his muscles as he drags his hips against you, keeping up his fast pace.
“If you make me”, a slow smile crosses your face as you watch Patrick’s eyebrows draw together in determination. Apparently, that had been the correct thing to say.
He lets his hand fall to your clit, rubbing it with his palm. You buck and grind against him, please falling from your lips, as he continues to thrust into you while matching the rhythm with his hand, rubbing circles. You moan into his mouth again, caught in a heated kiss when he softly bites down on your bottom lip.
He pounds into you in deep and long strokes, the rattle of the desk a clear giveaway to anyone who might be walking by the room. 
You bury your head against his shoulder. As you bite into it, he hisses. A deep sound that makes you clench around him, pressure growing in your stomach. 
Your brain feels blissfully empty, only the sensation of being filled by his dick again and again at the forefront of your mind as he bottoms out inside you with every thrust, grazing that sweet spot in your cunt that makes you see stars when he hits it. You watch the way his knuckles turn white from the strain and the edge in his bicep when he slams into you hardly, fingers still toying with your clit. 
Suddenly, everything is too much, and you feel your muscles tighten up inside you, internal pressure growing and spreading. For a moment you feel suspended in pure ecstatic pleasure, burning with fire when your walls tighten around him and you cum in a spine-curling orgasm, calling out his name. 
You feel his hips stutter, a brief break in his unrelenting rhythm that he continues to hold to fuck you through your high.
“Where?”, he asks you, half groaning as he slams inside you, still hitting that spot and still rubbing circles around your clit.
It takes you a few seconds to comprehend his words and understand their meaning but through shaking breaths, you manage to grind out “Inside me”
His cock twitches inside you as he increases his pace again, not letting up. You know that he’s close, chasing his orgasm and slamming balls deep into you, brow furrowed and breathing heavy.
“Fill me up”, your hushed words are almost inaudible against the rattling of the desk and the wet slap of his skin against yours. But by the way, his eyes darken again and his mouth goes slack he heard you. 
You smile and reach out to cup his cheek to pull him closer and kiss him hungrily.
His fingers tighten against your hip in a way that you’re sure that you will have bruises from that, visible only the next day, a reminder of what he did to you. 
When he cumes, he kisses you deeply, groaning into your mouth, a mixture of your name and a curse. He pulls you even closer, as he fucks through his own orgasm, getting slower and slower in pace. He stills when he comes down, keeping his hips flush with yours.
You take the solemn moments to watch him come down from his high, eyes closed and utterly at peace as he takes deep breaths.
Patrick’s cock softens slowly. And when it eventually slips out, you feel his cum dropping from your cunt.
“Fuck”, he says breathlessly, opening his eyes and smiling a wide, toothy smile. His broad frame glistens with a layer of sweat in the light of your room and sweat beads on his forehead, a sign of the exertion, “I knew you were a dirty girl”
You snort, and a laugh escapes your mouth as you look into his blue eyes, which sparkle with humor. You reach out, to lay your hand against his cheek, feeling the stubble and the dip of his smile.  
He covers your hand on his face with his large one, keeping it in place as he turns his head and places a kiss on your palm. Patrick’s lips linger for a few moments before he pulls his hand back and leans his forehead against yours. Your breath mingles as you stay like that, just looking at each other and breathing deeply.
Patrick untangles himself from you after a few minutes and leaves a soft kiss on your head. 
A deep ache and tiredness settles in your limbs as you watch him bow down and reach for his clothing. You cannot help but marvel at his nice ass and strong tights as you sit on the desk. You don’t trust your legs to work right now. When he stands up again, catching you staring and he just raises an eyebrow as he pulls up his boxer shorts and tucks his now soft cock away.
“In my defense, you’re very nice to look at”, you smile and hold up your hands in mock surrender.
He scoffs and shakes his head, softly laughing as he balls his shirt in his hands. You watch him come over to you, using it to clean you wordlessly. You hiss when he scrapes your clit and he mumbles a quiet sorry as he shoots you a sweet smile. 
Your heart swells at the gesture, you like that he continues to take care of you and that he thought of that. Of course, he was nothing but respectful during everything but still, you did not expect that level of care.
“Done”, Patrick smiles at you and shoots you a wink as he holds out his hand to help you down from the desk. Gladly, you take it, still not trusting your shaky legs, 
He engulfs you in a hug when you stand, his broad arms holding you close as you return the gesture, leaning your cheek against his chest. With serious eyes, he looks down at you: “I’d like to take you out to dinner or coffee sometime if you’re up for it”.
A smile spreads over your face upon his question and you answer with a soft yes, kissing him. He gladly returns it, before letting you go to get dressed. 
You watch him from the corner of your eye as he puts on his pants with a quick jump while you slip into your leggings and top. You don’t bother looking into the mirror, you know that you definitely look thoroughly fucked and so does he. If anyone were to see you two they’d know what happened. So your goal is to just get to your car and drive home.
When your eyes meet again, you nod your head to the door: “Let’s go”
You notice a wet spot on his shirt from when he cleaned you up and cannot help blushing. He arches an eyebrow at you and smirks: “I don’t mind, I’d do it again”. Laughing you shake your head, he really does drive you crazy.
You walk out of the room together and through the studio that is mercifully deserted with your hands intertwined.
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