Tumgik
#devil's gonna get me one of these days
kinetic-elaboration · 11 months
Text
June 26: Murphy, Devil
Murphy, with some Murphy/Emori, Southern Gothic 'verse, ~800 words
This sounded waaaaay better in my head I don't even know.
*
All his life, John Murphy has been a liar and a thief. He was born with these traits. Some talents are simply transmitted through the blood.
His father was an upstanding gentleman, who did some quite terrible things for the good of his family. He used to sneak pills under the counter from the pharmacy where he worked. Some were for his son, who needed them—a sickly boy he was then. The rest he sold. They needed that money, too. Later, he died in prison, of a disease John didn't know he had. His widow drank herself to death slowly. As John grew, she decayed. He observed it all, that morbid disintegration of living flesh, the sickly stench of booze and rot all through the house.
He's told the story a hundred times by now: for sympathy, as explanation. A sob story, a distraction, a moral tale. An exemplar: what life is like in the ditches of Arkadia, the parts of town the rest of them would like to forget. A shrug of his shoulders, spitting into the dirt. Why he is the way he is.
The truth is he was always the boy who started fires when no one was looking. The boy no one could trust in his quiet or his solitude. He flashed the sun through a magnifying glass, sparked fires in the dirt. Stole his father's lighter. His cigarettes too. A spark of flame he held there beneath his thumb, and smoke in his mouth. He liked to pocket candy and bubble gum from the dollar store and the grocery. He'd practice his lines to himself as he walked through the aisles, in case he got caught: ah hell I didn't mean it. How'd that get there? I meant to pay for it, I swear.
Almost a pity that he never was. He ate the candy brazenly, popped bubbles on the sidewalk—wondered who he would tell if he could.
His father was in prison but not yet dead when Murphy stared high school and met her. Emori, from the back row of Algebra, who drew geometric patterns on her binder all through quadratic equations; he'd watch the hard, persistent scribble of her pen and trace the slick twists and turns of the single, small braid she wore at the side of her head, and he didn't learn a single thing, and he didn't care. She was from a town even smaller than Arkadia, a town not even big enough for a high school. He thought at first she might have been home schooled. She held herself apart in a certain way, hard to pin down, had a steady and unblinking stare that unnerved all of the other kids, and made Murphy's heart beat harder in his chest.
They taught each other how to pickpocket, the exhilaration of a hand slipped into a warm and forbidden space, and how to recognize, from the viewpoint of a mark, the sly, quick movement of it. How to stay attuned to every hair on your arms and on the back of your neck. Got pretty good at it—though she was always better. But more than anything, they excelled at the grift.
She was a born liar, just like him. A woman of talented lips and tongue.
They had an idea they'd drop out of school and take to the road, hitchhikers who specialized in grand theft auto. Somewhere out west, the hills disappear and the roads even out, and even the sky pulls up and stretches wide; somewhere out there was infinity, or maybe even paradise, or God.
Maybe they would have tried it, too, if it weren't for Bellamy Blake.
Murphy thought he was just a church charity case. Another hard luck soul, swept up in the sermons or the need for salvation. An easy mark. Then somehow, Murphy found himself with his back up against the cold brick of the school building, Bellamy's forearm lodged against his throat, and for the rest of his days, he never figured out quite how that son of a bitch did it—even less how he got Emori's knife from her in the same movement. Left her there adrift in the shadows of the high school, more shadows than sun that day, and the wind frigid and biting. For a second, he'd seen real fear on her face. And he'd felt it in himself too, a frisson, an electric shock—perhaps the most thrilling feeling of his life. He'd smiled a sick, bitter smile. He was a liar and a thief and he knew a kindred spirit when he saw one, and he knew that Bellamy was something worse, something more powerful and rarer still.
Something more dangerous still.  
Right away, he was ready to follow him anywhere.
13 notes · View notes
maddy-ferguson · 1 year
Note
Is it just me or do some Bylers reach way too hard to defend Mike for things he was objectively wrong for? Like the rink o mania thing is a perfect example, Will was not being bitchy (onscreen) at all to Mike until the argument where Mike was the one who started it by blaming Will for not telling him about El’s problems. Mike was being a huge asshole there, which even he noticed and said Will didn’t deserve the way Mike treated him. He then apologized and Will accepted it because Will knows that Mike was genuinely remorseful and that he wanted to be best friends again. I hate to say this bc 99% of the time it is deeper than it looks but for this I just don’t get how you can watch and think Will was actually in the wrong.
i do enjoy a good reach and i get not wanting one character to be 100% in the right and one character to be 100% in the wrong in an argument and i don't even think mike was 100% in the wrong at rink o mania but when you back up a bit...what did will do wrong exactly lol.
do we agree with mike that he was a douche for...not telling him that el was being bullied? nonsensical. he didn't even know she was lying to him before the airport.
was he wrong for barely talking and basically sabotaging the whole day? a day el said was supposed to be about the two of them, making will third wheel and feel like shit just like in the beginning of season 3 and for months before that? right...because that makes sense.
was will in the wrong for not calling mike and for making it sound like it was his fault they didn't keep in touch? this one i can get behind but he would have let that go (the painting being a welcome gift doesn't scream resentful) had mike not made it clear that he wasn't interested in anything he had to say by...rejecting his hug, agreeing to the whole day being about him and el, ignoring him save for the vomit green joke, And not calling for months. if the first three hadn't occurred maybe will wouldn't have felt the need to defend himself when mike started a fight because he didn't tell him his gf was being bullied like he's their couples counselor or something
it's like you said mike literally starts the fight and then deflects (twice) and Then he apologizes...idk!
long-winded answer but how exactly was will being a dick lol. i know he apologizes for being mean to him and for pushing him away in the van scene but when exactly on march 22, 1986 was will mean to mike. i can see the pushing him away because he didn't call but he said he deserved the fight and admitted to being a jerk to el (literally HOW. when) and wouldn't let lucas apologize to him in season 3 so i'm not taking his self-deprecating martyr word for it SORRY
it's especially funny when you remember that mike trying to call will is a THEORY
#i know mike is self-deprecating too. this isn't about him💖#i know even byler being endgame is a theory but#and i GET IT like even if it turns out mike DIDN'T call he's not the devil or anything and i knoww why he acts like he does but when you#look at it from will's pov his behavior makes no fucking sense if he cares about him even a little. like why would he reject that hug lol#you could say him rejecting the hug was because he felt like they weren't friends anymore because will didn't call him and like sure but#then how is will not allowed to feel like they're not friends when mike doesn't call AND rejects his hug AND makes him third wheel all day#you can even say it was because he was like oh will gay can't make it obvious that i'm in love with him but that's just beyond the#realm of possibility to will. do you know what i mean? of course he's gonna think he doesn't care about him and doesn't even wanna hug him#hello after six months of not seeing him because he in fact didn't want to hug him. rejected the hug and made will feel like he was the#only one who wanted to be friends just like before#and really can you blame will for not calling when even without taking the fact that he's in love with mike into consideration the last#time he tried to show this friendship meant a lot to him he got shut down like crazy and was told that he was acting like a kid#i would've wanted mike to make a little bit of an effort too after that tf#and i know why he didn't call if he did in fact not call i know all that will isn't a tumblr byler he knows none of that not calling + not#hugging + agreeing to you not being important to the day + making you third wheel = not caring about you is not a crazy leap#if you wanna do the will isn't a perfect angel who is always 100% in the right thing (which i respect btw) i don't really see how#rink o mania helps your case I'M SORRY#you just will never convince me that it was 50/50#ask
56 notes · View notes
tianhai03 · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
another C’s coloring post! my sparda twins body type headcanons but now in Color
216 notes · View notes
gifti3 · 2 months
Text
happy bday to me! 🎂🥳🎉
for this very special day i wanted to list and compare the presents and interactions i got in the mobile games ive been playing consistently lmao
under cut cause the pics are big
Time Princess A letter with 10 golden tickets, 100 stamina, and 10000 coins
Tumblr media
Obey Me! Nightbringer 1 UR+, UR, and SSR Joker each 3 Demon Vouchers 30 Karma Points 200 AP 30000 Grim 50 Devil Points Along with a bday video, birthday calls from the characters throughout the day and a UR guarantee for a 10 pull There's half-off on Devil Tree unlocks There's also special birthday dialogue in the Surprise Guests: -- the first Surprise Guest I did gave me 30 more Devil Points -- and you can press anywhere on the boys and get max hearts :]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
What in HELL is Bad They haven't implemented bday stuff yet so nothing (´。��。`)
Twisted Wonderland A Happy Birthday from the character you have set as your favorite card and a Tenfold Key Set (for rolls)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
and last but not least.....*drum roll* 🥁🥁🥁 Love and Deepsace! Special Happy Birthdays from each guy which include them singing happy birthday to you :3 Birthday Dialogue on the home screen Presents from each one (items you can use to decorate their desks) 500 Diamonds 5 Empyrean Wishes 1 Bottle of Wishes: SSR 1 Energy Capsule: Powerful And 2 birthday stickers
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#so whb is technically in last place but since its a newer game ill let it pass this year#so time princess is next in line for last place#its a fine gift but since they dont have any characters saying happy birthday it doesnt do much for me#nightbringer kinda surprised me!#i was expecting a call and some devil points#but this is a lot more then i expected :3c#also i go crazy for free UR+ Jokers#i was thinking of adding regular obey me but decided to skip it since i only really just log in for dailies for the most part#(and i dont even do that everyday if im not feeling it)#also theyre practically the same minus the calls (but i have the old ones that i havent listened to yet still)#twst was cute nothing too crazy#(thank you for ur presence lilia)#i liked love and deepspaces happy bdays from the characters a lot because they sang lmao 😭#also i feel very special from them saying all this nice stuff about hoping that i get what i want and that i stay healthy and stuff dwsiiws#it feels like obey me has more in character interactions BUT when i think it about it more#deepspace has the models actually hand you gifts#also the moment you have with the characters feels more personal#but tbf theres more obey me characters and you do get those calls throughout the whole day! (also they give more stuff imo)#so i cant really pick which one i liked more :d#dutp#obey me nightbringer#twisted wonderland#love and deepspace#im now 26....#oh jeez#long post#still doing the same shit i was doing in middle school uashusha (i mean playing dating games)#my personality has refined over the years tho#anyways im gonna celebrate tomorrow with my family :]#this is the end of my post tho ill probably post about the asmo phone call later
6 notes · View notes
bleetusmcyeetus · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
No thoughts, only Beel and Lucifer
19 notes · View notes
stereax · 2 months
Text
woohoo spiraling out of control right now (what else is new really I've been fucked up and spiraling for weeks now) and trying to figure out reasons not to delete my tumblr and discord and myself along the way
but you know. talking about myself on my blog automatically means I'm attention seeking and fishing for pity right? should just shut up and stick to the news eh, it's all I'm good for :D
anyway if you need me I'll be in the corner reliving the past, coming to terms with reality, and trying to convince myself I'm not the problem despite every indication to the contrary ✌︎︎
#sterechats :)#09:58 pm - this is a bad idea but scheduling it anyway#what's the worst that can happen really? everyone leaves again? nobody talks to me again?#probably gonna delete this in the morning so. meh. not like it matters not like I matter :D#10:29 pm - wow it feels like my head is on fire#like my brain is actually burning and I can't do a damn thing about it#I should be happy right now! the devils are winning! my favorite guys are scoring!#but no! I'm barely keeping it together around my family and praying I don't wake up tomorrow <3#11:00 pm - I need to get out of here#I need to get out of here out of here out of here I can't stay here any more this is killing me#everyone hates me and I need to chew my arms open maybe then everything will make sense#why am I even writing these tags what does it matter#I was so much more in control of myself when I was sh-ing#maybe I should get back to that maybe it'll help I don't know anymore#I just want my friends back but they hate me hahahaha#11:24 pm - wonder how many people are gonna block me after this one#how many people will finally be fed up and leave for good#everyone leaves and I should be used to this by now#here's a truck stop instead of saint peter's (yeah yeah yeah yeah)#11:41 pm - it's friday afternoon/there goes antigone to be buried alive#in the next world I want to be something useful/like a staple gun/or in love#I would fall off a cliff for you/a thousand times and call it a good day#maybe I'm just incapable of being human! maybe that's it!#maybe I'm not even human at all... but something worse instead...#1:22 am - moving the posting of this back from 3 to 6 am#not that that matters and not that I matter but I don't think I'll sleep#and I don't want this to post when I'm awake#I know I'm just going to get unfollowed and blocked and left behind as always#because happiness and good things and friendships just aren't things I get to have really#I just wish people would stop lying and telling me they're different and they'll stay when they're not different and won't stay
2 notes · View notes
Text
So um... This song has been playing on loop in my head for who knows how long. I found the song in a Slendytubbies animation that is super good and made on FLIPACLIP!!!! (I can't even do 3 minute long animations yet. And I've been animating since I was 7. Wow . :"< ¬_¬) (Note: the animator of the animation also is making a series called Forbidden and it's really good and i suggest subbing to them.) I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life and animation/blog life right now. On Friday, I cried a little because every bad emotion I've been bottling up kinda hit me like a rock that day. I've been through a lot a physical, mental, and verbal pain throughout my life. Hence my current depressed, fearful state, partly why I have severe anxiety, and trust issues. I'm totally fine.... (Not) Well, at least I have people around that are nice. And ways to cheer me up. But, I'm gonna put that aside for now! Next post will (hopefully) be blog related! Have a good day, night, or morning!!!❤️
6 notes · View notes
saetoru · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
Tumblr media
synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
Tumblr media
length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 
the way the world works. 
the way you and satoru work. 
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
Tumblr media
i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
10K notes · View notes
kinetic-elaboration · 11 months
Text
June 19: Jasper/Monty, 16th Summer
Jasper/Monty in the Southern Gothic AU for @backpacktheory. Thanks for the request Tried my best with this one, though I kind of struggled with it.
~980 words, written in about 40 minutes
*
Their sixteenth summer, Raven teaches them how to drive, using her pickup truck and the flat, pale grassland in front of her house. Monty gets behind the wheel first. Raven rides shotgun, and Jasper stretches out in the bed in back, staring up at the sky sketched over with thin, pearly wisps of clouds across a shimmering blue, feeling the truck describe circles and awkward, bumpy squares as Monty practices shifting gears and making turns. He takes them up and down the rutted dirt driveway and then onto the paved road that leads eventually all the way back into town, and Jasper holds on tight to the edge of the truck bed, only the white grip of his pale fingers visible like a creature crawling itself free, when they take the first wide turn too wide. "What are you doing?" he yells. "Trying to throw me out? It's like I'm riding a bucking bronco here!"
He can make out the sound of Monty laughing through the glass of the back window, and Raven's hard-edged, clipped voice giving another command. The truck dips briefly off the shoulder, and then rights itself again.
The next day, they switch positions, and Jasper fumbles with the clutch as Monty sits in the back, yelling alternating jokes and encouragement, clapping and whooping when the old truck finally bumps forward. Its wheels crunch over the dead and flattened grass.
The seasons stretches still long and dry ahead of them, threatening fire in the underbrush.
Some days they spend right up through the late guttering of the evening at Raven's place, helping tend to her lawn, cooking dinner with her, for her, in the kitchen in the back of her house, the first of the slow-rising old mountains looking over them through the window above the sink. Bits of colored glass hanging there catch the hot and shimmering light. The air grows warmer and heavier still with the heat from the oven and the stove.
They get their licenses just in time for one summer road trip: a ritual to end the season, a pushing at the boundaries of things. Monty drives because he likes it more. Jasper sits next to him in the passenger's seat, cranks the window down and sings along to the radio, lets his hand ride along the waves of the cool breeze they create. Oh it's still devilish hot in late August, and barely any rain still for weeks. The stillness that everyone is trying to break, with their sprinklers, the hiss and click of them, and their standing fans whirring, and music through the open windows of their houses, the stillness comes with a sort of language of its own. Monty isn't bothered. When Jasper can't stand it, he comes over and lies on Monty's floor and picks up every quiet sound he can discern, bug noises in the garden, the creaking wooden frame of the old house.
They drive out to the next town over, which is bigger than Arkadia, and noisier, dusty gray sidewalks and sizzling pavement beneath their feet, wander into record stores and book shops and spend an hour in an antique store with a host of strange and byzantine, crowded rooms. In the narrow aisle between some creepy porcelain dolls and half-complete sets of old dishware, Jasper crowds against him, and Monty wraps an arm around him, and he thinks about the dishes they'll put in their kitchen when they're older and how far away and how close older seems, all at once.
On their way home, they pick up sandwiches, and picnic on the side of the road, just outside of town. The twin billboards loom large over them. Monty tips his head all the way back to stare at the closer one, how it intones to him The Devil Is Real in faded old text. A distant warning echoing through time. Jasper's hand is holding his, half-hidden in the grass.
Almost no breeze and almost no rain, but sometimes the air seems to ripple and breathe around them, and the grass bends lazily over itself, and the long highway stretches without a curve in sight. Only one car has passed them, this whole time. The sun shines unclouded and bright, skimming over the tops of the tallest trees, and the heat presses in, and he breathes deep and feels it heavy in his lungs.
The Devil.
He'd give everything to know what is real.
"It feels like you can see forever," Jasper says, all of a sudden, and Monty follow his gaze and sees that he is staring down the long road home. His eyes flicker then to the trees, and to the rounded mountain peaks, and then into the tall grass that whispers and rustle at the highway's edge. He can't see the billboards, because his back is to them. But Monty can feel, as if it were in his own chest, every hitch in Jasper's breath.
Sometimes they just feel it, like a pressure or another sense. The sense that they are not alone. If it's the Earth itself or another presence, if it's just the growing pains of learning and understanding, of feeling out the edges of this knowledge that, sometimes, it feels like only they in the whole history of the world have ever found, he doesn't know. It's a whisper on the skin. It's a dread feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sickness, a craving.
He holds on tighter to Jasper's hand.
Where Will You Be When He Comes Again? the other billboard asks, a warning, a taunt; the edge of it is ripped, where half a cross still stands, and through a hole in the corner, Monty can see straight through to the blazing hint of sunset on the other side. Where Will You Be?
Where is he now?
They pack up their stuff and head on home.
16 notes · View notes
lilgynt · 9 months
Text
my brothers leaving town and jesus whole event had me stressed out. it was good and nothing bad happened but i ran through a 500 mg weed pen within maybe. 2 to 3 days at least 85 percent and im still stressed.
#personal#just me on my break smoking and pacing#my mom was especially like. over my brother in my face but also it was fine and she checked in with me#brother and i talked but also i just feel like we’re stuck in a weird liminal space#i didn’t watch the flash with them#bc i just didn’t want to and no one was mad and i came by randomly to talk or whatever but also oh my god am i ruining the rare time i have#with my family by not watching the flash am i. the devil#and now i’m at work and i just feel#off kilter#i’m glad i’m only working three days but also i just want to go home and curl up for while#like there’s a weird animal awareness hes in the house#and at one point while getting sad to a hannibal edit while not boxing my car i was like huh.#i really get stressed during his visits cause i have no idea if something really bad is gonna happen or not#like i’m always excited to see him it’s nice and i miss him#but it does stress me out.#i think everything is stressing me out lately i think i need a new job djdjxjkdkdkdkxkdmdmdm#but i think it might be easier to shut off and relax#but he did hang out while i cleaned so got some progress there *sisyphus*#i’m just gonna get high even tho i KNOW i need a t break hopefully wrangle myself up to clean some more#and someone hold me down i’m gonna watch tv or read a book#i will not get stuck on random tasks or getting distracted and will spend 17 hours on tik tok. you will hold me to this#i will sit down and watch Hannibal rising. or ninoma. or die#something. i will find something to watch#or impractical jokers. or another tv show i should watch continue or start#and if that stresses me out too much im going to read. my bed side desk has so many books not to mention my book case#or i could even buy that kindle extreme horror book and read that#shaking myself violently screaming i’m not gonna watch tik toks and read trashy fan fics before i go to bed tonight for work
0 notes
tianhai03 · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
GUYS ASJHGDHJKASJDK LOOK C COLORED ONE OF MY DUMB DOODLES FROM TWITTER AGAIN WHERE I FORCED DANTE TO HAVE A SHOWER I LOVE THIS SO MUCH
(again, the line art is done by me while C colored over my art!)
154 notes · View notes
smallest-moon · 10 months
Text
re watched wendigoons video explaining the whole fnaf story and now im burdened with feelings :(
1 note · View note
gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
Note
Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
Tumblr media
Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
5K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 3 months
Text
a rose and her thorns | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader
summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.
a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao
wc: 3.3k
warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.
Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 
“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 
You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 
Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 
“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 
“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 
He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 
“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 
You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 
It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 
“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 
“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 
“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 
“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 
“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 
“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 
“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 
You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 
“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 
“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 
“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 
You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 
“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 
You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  
“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”
“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 
“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 
“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 
Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 
“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 
You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 
“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 
“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 
“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 
Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 
“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 
Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 
“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 
“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 
“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 
“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”
You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 
“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 
“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 
“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 
A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 
It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 
“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 
You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 
“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 
“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 
“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 
“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 
Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 
Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 
She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 
“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 
“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 
He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 
You frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 
You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 
“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 
“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 
“Be my Valentine.” 
“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 
“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 
“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 
“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 
“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 
Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 
“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 
“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 
“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 
“Really?” he asked. 
“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 
“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 
“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 
You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 
“Did I stutter?” 
“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 
Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 
You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 
“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 
“How’s your schedule?” 
“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 
Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 
“That depends what it is,” you said. 
“It’s a secret,” he said. 
You stared at him. “A secret?” 
He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 
You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”
“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 
You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 
“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 
“You read my mind,” you mused. 
“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 
“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 
-
Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 
You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 
(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 
Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 
“Nice touch.” 
Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 
“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 
He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 
“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 
“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 
“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 
“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 
“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 
“He takes that as a compliment?” 
“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 
“And he protects you?” she asked. 
You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 
“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 
You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 
“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 
You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 
“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 
Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 
Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 
You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 
He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 
“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 
Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 
“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 
“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 
Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 
“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 
“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 
“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 
He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 
You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 
“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 
“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 
His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 
“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 
Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 
He was surely blessed by your mother. 
“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 
“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 
“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 
“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 
“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 
You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 
“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 
You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 
“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 
“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 
2K notes · View notes
yzashaven · 3 months
Text
𝐁𝐄𝐓 !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3
Tumblr media
he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.
you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.
"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"
☆★
"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"
a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?
★☆
"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.
your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.
"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?
...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.
your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.
a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.
his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.
not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.
Tumblr media
986 notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 1 year
Text
wicked obsession — pjm
Tumblr media
You don't like Jimin; you two are nothing alike. He's the campus' infamous fuck boy while you're studious, never stepping foot into parties. It's certainly not a good thing when he grows an obsession over you.
★ pairing: fuck boy!jimin x sub/fem!reader
☆ genre: university au, friends with benefits, smut
★ word count: 8.2k
☆ warnings: dub-con, non-con to a certain extent, take of pictures and videos without consent, threats toward the reader, hard dom jimin <3 (he's pretty soft in this one but still), he's evil and hot, reader's kind of a pervert too if we think about it long enough, pillow humping (f), masturbation (m), unprotected sex, no penetration because it's not a necessity 😌👍🏻, praising & brief degradation, dry humping, grinding, facial, cum eating, cunnilingus & fingering, squirting, jimin's a munch.
a.n.: this is a gift for myself since i crave jimin really, really badly. again, be mature and read the warnings! it's your job to avoid the content you don't like, not mine! 😉
playing: Filme moi
Please reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic get more visibility :)
Tumblr media
He's looking at you like a predator, narrowing his eyes and passing his index finger over his plump bottom lip. The only thing you can do is pretend to not see him staring intently at you and work harder on your assignment. If only you could do those things without anxiously glaring up at him and immediately breaking eye contact when he's already looking at you.
He doesn't even engage in the conversation with your group of friends and for some reason nobody has noticed how Jimin is ogling at you.
Why is he suddenly interested in you? Why!?
He knows how much you disapprove of his lifestyle. He doesn't care about his studies, he submits assignments days after the due date because why should he bother about the date when he'll get an A anyway. He puts no effort while you spend days on your homework and it angers you a lot.
Jimin is infamously known for his never ending libido, fucking everything that has two legs, two arms and a pussy. Infamously known to be a fuck boy simply because he breaks every women's heart without a care in the world. He may flash a smile while telling them they were a good hook up and that's it.
And that's why you're in big trouble because Park Jimin can't be obsessed with you.
As you finish typing your sentence on your keyboard, pressing on enter to change paragraphs, you look up. Mainly because you want to distract yourself a little bit from your work, but also because you can still feel his eyes boring into your skull.
Then, you see his black orbs looking straight in front of him where you're sitting while he's leaning against the chair's back, spreading his legs apart. You're surprisingly brave enough to hold eye contact this time, shivers running down your spine when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips.
What did you do for him to stare at you like you're a piece of meat?
It's like he's trying to send you a message, one that would offend you, make you raise your eyebrows in total astonishment and probably stop your heart from beating. Even though you can't decipher his message, you can understand it. Something nasty, so filthy that the devil himself wouldn't approve of.
He tilts his head downward and looks at you through hooded eyes. You have to swallow to not choke on your spit as his gaze destabilizes you so much you can't even process what's happening around you.
Jimin seems to like that, enjoying how weak you are, how you crumble apart just from holding eye contact with him. He smirks, following each one of your movements with his devious eyes.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your computer's screen, but you can't. He's distracting you and it really annoys you. Why can't he mind his own business?
"Class at ten, gonna go to my locker," one of your friends announces, Taehyung, while getting up from his seat.
Priya, also one of your friends, copies Taehyung's actions, standing up on her feet as well. "Oh, yes! I forgot my lip balm in my locker, I'm coming with you," she smiles at him, putting the straps of her tote bag over her right shoulder.
It's how the table you were hanging at slowly empties, and you let out the breath you were holding when Jimin decides to follow Seokjin and Jungkook to the cafeteria to buy some snacks before class. You're left alone at your request, telling Priya and the other girls that you're going to work extra minutes on your essay before joining them.
You wrote four pages already, only ten more and you'll be done. It's a lot and you're totally discouraged, but that's how university is. You quickly check the time on your phone and start packing your things in your backpack to attend your afternoon class that you share with some of your friends.
You take a seat in the middle beside Priya and you don't miss the glance Jimin sends you when he passes by, going to the back of the class with Jungkook. You're relieved he doesn't sit with you, even though it would have been unusual of him, but his sudden interest in you is unusual so you don't know what to expect anymore.
The professor explains the next project, which is a work that you'll have to do in a team of two people. The instructions are pretty simple, something you can do in less than two weeks. You expect to team up with Priya, after all you're the only girls of your group in this class and you two are close friends.
When the teacher is done with the instructions, he lets everyone form their teams. You do the work with Priya, but that is until Jimin makes his appearance.
"Hey, Pri'. You don't mind working with Kookie, right?" He asks your friend and she looks at him curiously, her eyebrows raising up on her face. You, on the other hand, are very confused, opening your mouth to protest until Priya responds with a joyful smile.
"Oh! No, not at all! You two are doing it together? How nice," she giggles, turning her head to look at you. She takes her books in her arms and walks to Jungkook without thinking twice about it.
Jimin steps aside to let her go, watching her sitting beside Jungkook with an undying smile plastered on her face. Your heart starts beating extremely fast as he takes place next to you, acting as if he just didn't decide to work with you without your consent.
"What are you doing! I never said I'd team up with you!" You whisper-shout at him, not wanting anyone to hear you complaining.
He checks the papers the teacher gave you earlier about the project's instructions with the evaluation grid, still pretending the situation is completely normal. "Well, I wanted to and you'll work better with me than with Priya, don't you think?" He turns his head in your direction and his expression is serious. He's genuinely asking you this question.
You shrug, frowning even more. "This wasn't for you to decide," you clench your fists on the table, so frustrated that Jimin thinks it's okay to make decisions for you. You're not even close friends, it doesn't make sense. "I prefer working alone if it's like that," you say, rising up from your seat, but the murderous glare he sends you petrifies you on the spot.
"Sit down," he commands severely and you do as he says, fearing him. He eyes you for a few seconds, making sure you won't try to leave him again. When you stay silent, he reports his attention on the project.
You don't say anything else, listening to Jimin's words distractedly, still baffled by what just happened. Students exit the class, others stay, and he offers to go work at the library.
There, you engage in the project with Jimin. You're pleasantly surprised to see that he's really focusing, sharing his ideas and opinions. You suppose he's only hardworking because the result doesn't solely rely on him. You know he's smart, but he prefers to spend his energy on partying instead of on his studies.
An hour passes and you're now working on your own, asking each other's opinion on things you wrote. You eventually forget how he typically forced you to work with him, but you still have this reluctance toward him, this feeling of repugnance.
Jimin isn't disgusting by any means, he's super hot and he knows he is. You might even be attracted to him, no need to deny it when he's so sexy he makes every girl's pussy mewl. But you know better than to act on your sexual desires, especially when they concern a guy as perverted as Jimin.
"Mmh," he seems to be thinking, but you feel like he already knows what he's going to say. "I forgot something at my dorm," he adds, not levelling his gaze from his sheet of paper.
You look at him, confused on why he doesn't explain further, as if it isn't important. "What is it?" You question him and that's when he raises his head, his gaze meeting yours.
His expression is painfully serious, and by now, you can easily recognize that it's a façade. You don't know what he's hiding, but you're sure of one thing; behind those beautiful almond shaped eyes, kindness doesn't reside there.
His eyes pierce through you, watching - observing your person. Jimin does this often, not answering until you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. You have no clue on what he's trying to do, maybe see how vulnerable you are, how quickly you can break under the mischievous glint of his eyes.
"My charger."
You wouldn't know if Jimin is a liar because everything he says seems believable, the confidence he radiates just tells everyone how trustworthy this man is. But you look over the table where his phone lays down and the screen lights up as he just received a text. His battery is half full.
He takes his iPhone back into his hand, shoving it in his jeans' front pocket as he stands up from his chair. He tidies his stuff back into his pencil case then into his JanSport backpack, but he stops to look at you when you don't do the same thing. "Aren't you coming with me?" Again, his question is asked with a serious tone, as if following him to his dorm is the normal thing to do.
"I thought we'll just leave it there for today," you confess in a small voice, looking up at him from your seat. Your grip on your pencil tightens when his gaze flicks between your face and your breasts. You despise how he doesn't even hide it.
"No," he breathes out calmly, tilting his head to the side. "We'll continue it at my place, we can't stop now, we're doing so well," he smiles and like the unbothered person that he is, he pulls on your pen. It slips out of your hold and Jimin drops it off in your pencil case. "I really want to do this right this time."
And like that, the conversation is closed. You have no choice but to follow him somewhere you've never been before, somewhere you know he won't hold himself back.
Tumblr media
Jimin is guiding you with his soft voice, his hand placed on the small of your back, brushing his fingers adorned with rings across your naked body. You are sobbing out, feeling dirty, but the tingle between your legs is so good.
His lips are close to your ear, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a devilish smile. "Look at you, sweet thing... enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He whispers into your ear, doing slow circular motions with his hand on your back to soothe you.
You are humping his white pillow, rubbing your pussy frantically against the soft cotton material. Jimin is watching you closely, his smirk never leaving his plush lips. If someone is enjoying it the most, it's him. He likes seeing you losing your dignity bit by bit, and that, only because he asked you to.
The hair on the nape of your neck is wet and you have to tuck his pillow upwards regularly, this one falling down from your weak grip. Jimin doesn't bother to give you a hand, liking the way you are struggling to rut your hips against the soiled pillow, so eager to finally have your release.
For him, it's okay. Making you submit, ripping the last bit of confidence you had in you, forcing you to do things you find wrong. 'It's natural, after all', he said. 'Your body needs it, you can't keep denying your sexual desires for the rest of your life'. He is right about one point; your body needs it, but not you. It's where he fails to understand.
"See, I knew you would like it... I knew you'd like to rub that little pussy on a pillow," he purrs into your ear, smiling even more when a whine confirms his words. "Don't forget to look at the camera, sweetie," he pats your hair and you raise your head, frowning when you see yourself on his phone's screen.
It's placed on his desk chair in front of his bed, levelled on his chemistry books. When you think about it, the chair was already there, facing the bed, as you entered his room earlier. He had set up everything in advance and the thought itself makes you shudder so deeply that your members shake beside you.
"Jimin-!" You gasp out, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening. You grind your hips harder and faster on the pillow, the same he's sleeping on each night, and feel yourself trembling in anticipation of your orgasm.
At the small call of his name, his face softens, his lips in an exaggerated pout. He takes pity on you, nothing more, just pity because you're so pathetic and weak trying to make yourself cum by humping his pillow.
"I know, baby," he coos, caressing your back, the cool silver of his rings brushing against your burning skin. His other hand gropes your breasts, strong veins pulsing out along his arm. He fumbles the flesh of your boobs, teasing your perky nipples with his palm. "Just let it go..."
You rub your clit against Jimin's pillow, twisting the fabric between your fingers, moving your hips frantically until your orgasm hits you. Jimin looks at you in awe, he has a wicked curiosity to watch you shake in pleasure - a pleasure you didn't ask for. He loves the tears that run down your chubby cheeks, loves that despite everything, you still like this.
You whine as you drive off your high, soiling the pillow with your juices and cum. Jimin lets out a groan, pulling the cushion away from your drenched cunt. "You did such a good job, baby," he praises you and passes an arm around your waist, bringing you against him. "What a sweet girl, so obedient, and just for me."
His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip, making you fall underneath him on the mattress. You moan softly, feeling your pussy quivering, asking more than just a clitoral orgasm.
Jimin settles between your legs, pampering your neck in sloppy kisses, discovering your body with his pillowy and plump pink lips. He hesitates to mark you, to leave love bites all over your skin, but he refrains himself from it. Not yet.
Your hair is spread all over his bed, your beautiful tits displayed for him. He places a hand above your shoulder on the mattress to support his weight, the other holding your thigh that is locked behind his back. He lowers his head toward your breasts and positions himself better, bending his elbow beside your arm instead of leaving his hand next to your head.
His hot breath hits your nipples, making them even harder. He wraps his plushy lips around one, suckling on it avidly, leaving you panting heavily. Your face is hot, the entire room feels hot, and you think you might melt down under Jimin.
He licks your supple flesh, feeling the lines of your stretch marks under his pink muscle. He plays with the other that is left out by his mouth, pinching and pulling on your little bud. Quickly, your boobs are glistening in his spit, a beautiful sight he wants to reproduce every time he's with you.
"Jiminie..." You moan his name, arching your back as he bites gently on your nipple, flattening his tongue over it after as if to apologize for the pain. You're like a little doll for Jimin to play with, to love and care for.
He's acting awfully sweet as he rips the pureness out of you, sucking fervently on your nipples that you feel your stomach clench. It's a mix of discomfort and pleasure, making you feel weird, but also giving your core tingles you've never experienced before.
His crotch presses against your wet pussy and he slowly grinds his hips, making you aware of his hard cock trapped in his jeans. He detaches his lips from around your nipple and your breast bounces down to the side after. Jimin finds his spot in the crook of your neck again, still grinding his hips against yours.
He lets out a guttural moan from his throat and your pussy clenches around nothing but air. You have to admit that you don't really know what's happening, too drunk on the hormones both of your bodies are releasing. The rutting of Jimin's hips is pleasuring you, stimulating your clit perfectly, but that's not what you wanted, is it?
"Mmh, fuck," he curses, nuzzling your neck and giving you little kisses that want to be reassuring. "I'm so fucking horny, I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea," he presses his bulge harder on you, wanting to feel more friction, but his clothes are restraining him too much.
He looks you in the eye, catching every little moan that escapes your lips, accompanying his grunts and the noise of his bed creaking. He breathes onto your face as he painfully grinds his hips against yours. Maybe you would like him to penetrate you and fuck you until you can't feel any of your limbs, or until he ejaculates deep into you, stuffing you full of his seeds.
Maybe you would like it, maybe you would consider it.
He breaks eye contact as he sits back on his knees, glancing at your messy cunt, quivering helplessly. He grips the back of his white t-shirt with his two hands, pulling on the collar to pass it over his head. He throws it away on the floor where your clothes are as well, revealing to you his beautiful chest.
He has a tattoo on his rib cage, the word nevermind spelled in uppercase inked on his pale skin. His abs are well defined and his nipples are in a shade of dark pink. You can see the muscles of his biceps and he has a trail of hair under his belly button, going to his pelvis. Jimin looks dreamy, it's a shame that he has such a nasty reputation.
He unbuckles his belt, the clanking sound making your stomach flutter, pussy impatiently waiting for him and what he has to deliver. He doesn't stop looking at you as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them while your eyes immediately lower to his crotch. Under these boxers, there's a huge bulge, and you imagine a thick cock, average length but unreal girth.
"Do you want to see my cock, sweetie?" He asks you in a gentle voice, a smile on his lips, but there is no mockery behind it. Though he's asking, he's not really waiting for your consent. He doesn't need it, not at the point where you are. "Aren't you a little bit curious?" His right hand comes to caress his hard on over his boxers, veiny hand gripping it and palming it.
You don't respond, mostly because you don't know what to say. You glimpse in the direction of the chair where his phone is settled down, seeing Jimin's body hovering over yours. He looks so imposing, dominating, and for some reason this sends a wave of heat between your legs.
You look back at him and you swallow, wondering if all of this talk is to make a show for the camera. You know he knows how much it disturbs you, but it seems like it doesn't bother him. It spurs him on even more, watching your face contort in discomfort and fear, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground.
But he also knows that despite those negative feelings, you like this situation very, very much. Your body betrays your emotions; pussy leaking down your ass, wetness sticking to your inner thighs, nipples hard and pupils dilated.
He bites down on his bottom lip, passing his thumbs under the band of his briefs. Your heart accelerates, mind going crazy at the fact of seeing Jimin's dick just in front of you, centimetres away from your crotch.
"So excited to see me... You're going to like it, baby, believe me," he chuckles, lingering his eyes over your naked body, noticing the goosebumps running along your skin and making your hair stand up on your arms.
You almost whimper when he tucks the band of his boxers down, setting his cock free from its confines. It twitches twice before standing up proud against his pale stomach, pink tip glistening from pre-cum under the light of his bedroom.
You were right; Jimin is girthy, not super long and unshaved, but his head reaches a few inches under his belly button. He's really thick, and with what you've already seen in your life, you know his dick can't enter without forcing the entry a little bit. And this is not good, really not good. Not to mention the size of his balls that will surely leave bruises on your ass.
You're not sure if you like it.
You back away on the bed, trying to escape Jimin, but he's fast at gripping your thighs and pushing you back over to him. A laugh doesn't miss to leave his mouth, finding you silly for trying to run away from him when really, there's no way of getting away.
"It's okay, little thing. No need to fight..." His gaze lowers down to his dick where he takes it in his hand, angling it toward your pussy. "It's going to happen whether you want it or not," his last words end up in a whisper, too focused on swiping his tip through your folds to speak louder.
Your walls clench around nothing and you curse yourself for it, knowing that Jimin probably saw it. You whine when you feel him rubbing his mushroom head against your clit, his cock now covered in your wetness. He teases your hole, circling it slowly, collecting more of your arousal on his length.
Then, he pushes his head in slightly, testing how your pussy adjusts itself to the size of his thick cock. You wince as he pushes in over and over again, never putting more than the tip.
"Please, stop- Jimin, it's too much," you shake under him and throw your arms over his shoulders, this simple action making him actually reconsider what he's doing. "I can't take it..."
His eyes shift up to your face, not saying anything yet, observing if you're bluffing or not. If he's a good liar, then you're a bad one. He sighs, replacing his hands on each side of your head. "Don't worry," he promises, his lips brushing the side of your face, his breath tickling your burning cheek.
He glides his cock over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips apart and covering his erection in your juices. His girth stimulates your bud of nerves just the way you need it to feel the knot in your tummy tightening again. You're still sensitive, but it feels good. It's dirty, having your cum dripping down your hole, having Jimin's dick sliding up and down your drenched pussy, mixing his pre-cum to your own arousal.
Dirty, but great, oh, so great.
The zippers of his jeans sting the skin of your thighs as he grinds his cock over your clit non-stop, making you whine and moan, in pleasure or in pain, whatever it is you don't care anymore. It's slow and somehow sensual at first, Jimin moaning himself while driving his erection through your folds.
He gives you small kisses all over your face and while he does so, you can't believe that this is the same man that you used to say you hated so much. Each kiss is warm and soft, on your cheekbones, on your forehead or on the corner of your mouth, you love them all. You could forget about his phone filming your intercourse, you could forget about how he forced you to team up with you, you could forget about everything just by the delicate touch of his plump lips on your skin.
Each roll of his hips seems painful with the way he hisses and twists the bedsheets between his fists, very weak strings holding him back from fucking his cock into your pussy. You don't understand why he respects your boundaries now, but you won't complain.
"Mmh, a-ah, fuck..." You can't get over the fact how his voice sounds so angelic, so pure, and yet, he's doing that to you. Even his deepest moans are honeyed, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly as he growls into your ear.
He fastens the cadence of his hips before stopping, as if he'd have broken down to his real urges if he had continued.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'll have to cum on your face," he informs you, his wet cock leaving your pussy. "And I want some souvenirs..." He smiles deviously, getting up on his knees to stand over your chest.
You watch him pump himself lazily, his cock hovering over your face, mouth hanging open to catch your breath. He frowns and lets out a guttural moan, looking at your poor figure laying helplessly under him. He wets his lips and directs the tip of his cock to your mouth. You close it and he takes the opportunity to pass his head over your lips, smearing your own cum on them.
He tilts his head to the side, smiling as he glances at you with such a sick curiosity. "Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, baby? Hmm?" His eyes glint in mischievousness, so turned on to use you how he pleases, how he always wanted it. "Tastes good, doesn't it? Couldn't get enough even if you wanted to..." It doesn't have much of a flavour, you think, but Jimin seems to really like it.
He decides to jerk himself off just above your face and you clench your thighs, watching in awe how his hand grips tightly his erect penis and how his palm runs up and down smoothly around it. There's something about not being able to move, trapped under Jimin, that has your clit throbbing furiously.
Maybe it's something about him pleasuring himself shamelessly, spurts of your arousal splashing around as he fucks his fist, or something about his soft but deep moans he lets out from time to time, staring at you intently as you're the one making him so horny right now.
He passes a hand through his black hair, his bangs wet from his sweat. He twists his wrist, focusing on his swollen tip before stroking his whole length. "Ah, shit," he sounds really sensitive, sucking air through his teeth. "Gonna cum," he announces rapidly, fastening the pace of his palm.
The veins on his arm are producing, and you're amazed at how many there are. His rings shine as the light makes them glint each time he comes up to his mushroom head.
You open your mouth by instinct, flattening your tongue on your chin, which makes Jimin groans angrily. "Aah, what a good fucking slut," he angles his dick toward your face, long strands of white cum landing on your face as he moans out loudly. "Oh, God..." He mutters under his breath, spilling his creamy cum across your face.
It doesn't go as planned, his seeds leak down on your nose and forehead in a long trail rather than on your tongue and lips. You close one eye because some of his cum drips down on it, keeping the other open. He fucks himself dry, little white beads spilling out of his tip to fall on your cheeks.
"Mmh, fuck, so pretty..." Jimin's eyes linger on your face, stroking himself distractedly as his cock softens in his hand. You retract your tongue back in your mouth, watching him pick up his phone from the chair.
He stops the recording and goes to take a photo vertically, cupping your chin to make you face the camera correctly. He smiles behind his phone, thumb hovering over the button. You hear the capturing sound two times before he's starting another recording.
He lets go of your chin to collect his cum on his fingers that was dripping down to your eye, bringing his digits to your lips. You can then open your eyelid, parting your lips slightly for him to insert his index and middle finger in. You lick them clean, tasting him on your tongue. It's salty, but nothing really repulsive as you thought it would be.
He pulls out of your mouth, giving your cheek a slight slap. You feel the wetness of your saliva on it. Jimin throws his phone away on his bed when he's finished with the video, stuffing himself back into his jeans. He gets up from you and helps you wipe the remains of his cum on your face.
You don't move until he dresses you in one of his t-shirts, your body completely drowned in it. You go pee and when you get out of the bathroom, he envelops you in his strong arms, bringing you back to bed.
He hugs you tightly against his naked chest, laying his head on your chest in a really intimate manner. "You won't tell anyone? Please," you whisper and he elevates his head from you, looking at you with a serious expression.
He answers nothing, instead he lays on his side and pulls you closer. He strokes your hair gently as you listen to his heartbeat, mind empty. You fall asleep eventually, only to wake up the next day, leaving in a hurry to your own dorm to prepare yourself for another day of university.
Tumblr media
You are sitting on a bench in the university's baseball field, doing homework once again. Jimin is always glancing at you from where he is on the field, throwing the ball at Taehyung for him to hit with the bat he's holding.
Taehyung and Jungkook are changing places regularly, one or the other being the hitter. Seokjin is monitoring the two youngest, giving them tips or correcting the way they are positioned since he's the most experienced, being the baseball team's captain.
Priya is beside you, glued to her phone, probably texting Namjoon, the guy she's seeing at the moment. A gym addict, you remember her telling you and also apparently Seokjin's good friend from another campus.
Even though you're focused on your work, you still feel Jimin's eyes on you and it scares you to think that he might have told everyone about you two. He didn't because no one has addressed it, but there's a doubt, a little voice in your head telling you that he didn't respect your wish to keep it a secret.
If your friends know it, your parents, even the whole school... you have no idea how you will manage it. It doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but you just don't want this kind of information to follow you for life. Jimin isn't the type of guy you want to be associated with.
Despite the sweet nicknames he calls you, his devilish smile that makes butterflies erupt in your tummy, his insanely pretty face, his soft voice that makes you shiver, his plump pink lips browsing your skin, his beautiful hands gripping your thighs, his hot cum painting your face, how he's so gentle but has the evilest intentions at the same time.
Despite all of those things, you don't want him. You really don't. But he does.
The time passes as the boys' laughters fill the air, the positions changing; Priya talking with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jungkook bickering, Jimin making fun of them and glancing your way when his attention drifts off of his friends.
You sigh when you have to get back to your dorm by yourself, your unfaithful friend too swamped by a boy to realize you're still there. You collect your things, laptop in its cushioned case and notes back into its assigned binder.
You think you can sneak out of the baseball field without anyone noticing, but you're so wrong to even assume he doesn't have his eyes set on you.
Outside the field, you stop walking when a familiar voice calls you. "Where are you going?" You turn around, only to be met with, evidently, Jimin.
You shrug, glimpsing behind you where the university's building is. "To the dorms..." You answer, not too sure why you sound hesitant. It's not like you need his permission to go back to your room. It's late at night anyway, and you don't want to get bit by mosquitoes.
He closes the distance between you two, stepping ever so slowly, as if to tease you, to chase you. No need to go faster, he knows you'll stay there, frozen on the spot.
"You can go back with the others," you say, frowning as you want him to leave you alone. You don't voice this wish, though and you're lucky you don't because he doesn't like being rejected, especially by you.
His gaze darkens as he narrows his eyes at you and you're scared for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk. "No, I'm coming with you," he decides and you know this isn't a proposition, it's a statement.
But you're not okay with this. So you back away slightly, still facing him, breath quickening. He notices your reluctance and he frowns, a scowl on his face. You keep moving back and he keeps moving forward, that is until you have enough and run in the university's direction.
Your sudden move takes Jimin by surprise and you hear him calling your name, clearly annoyed with you. He asks himself if he should run after you because if he does people will see him and that's not something he wants. But he knows you're going to the dorms, so he just has to arrive there before you do.
You soon make your way to the university residence building, relieved Jimin didn't follow you. You thought he would have, but it seems like he didn't want to bother running after you. You nonetheless look behind you from time to time, verifying in case he did in fact follow you, but you don't see him.
A little voice tells you how unfortunate it is that he didn't chase after you. Is it because he doesn't like you anymore? For some twisted reason, this idea disappoints you. Did he realize you weren't as interesting as he thought you would be or does he think you were shitty in bed? That would be quite humiliating and sad.
You liked the attention he gave you.
When you step into the corridor your room is located in, your eyes widen and your heart almost explodes as you see Jimin casually waiting in front of your door. You didn't expect him to be there, how did he even enter without you noticing?
You feel like a poor little bunny who has nowhere to go, damned to be eaten alive by the big, bad wolf slowly approaching its prey. But the difference between you and the bunny is that you're secretly turned on to be tracked down by Jimin.
He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on when he perceives you walking in. His smile doesn't leave his beautiful plump lips, his mischievous eyes scanning your little body from head to toe.
As he reaches you, you finally come out of your torpor. "Jimin," you warn him and he stops, inches away from you. "I'm not... doing this. I don't want to."
He doesn't look convinced at all. Who are you trying to fool now, you or him? It's better not to be him because he's not the kind to give up on something he really wants.
He tilts his head, looking at you curiously, the expression he does when something intrigues him. "Don't act like this now, sweetie," he purrs, closing the gap between you two. Your breath is caught in your throat, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You're trapped between him and the wall. "You wouldn't like to have your pretty body leaked, hm, baby? It wouldn't really be a secret anymore..."
He touches your cheek with his hand, caressing the side of your face with his index finger. You shudder, pressing your books tightly against your chest. "W-What? I thought- I thought..." You stutter out, heart thumping against your rib cage.
"It doesn't matter what you thought, sweet thing." His words come out husky, his hot breath fanning across your face, making goosebumps run all over your skin. "It's okay if you don't want to, but you have to know that there'll be consequences," he almost sings this threat to you as he sounds so angelic and you're more and more scared by him. Scared in a way that makes your clit throb.
He cages you between the wall and him, pressing his body against yours feverishly til it makes him ill. Your two breaths intertwine, mingling together to create a compact atmosphere where it's hard for you to even think straight.
"The videos.... oh, and that pic," he reminds you and the events are quick at coming back into your mind. "Are all saved in my phone, only for me to look at... and believe me, I must have replayed them at least ten times, if not more," he informs you. "And, God, I was so hard just looking at you, baby."
You can't help but clench your thighs, imagining him with his phone in one hand, his cock in the other.
"Jimin," you breathe out quietly, coming out like a whisper, the sound of your voice making him focus on you. He glances down at your face, watching your lips parting to pronounce your next word. "Stop..."
Though he might have been soft before, you rejecting him again when you're clearly turned on makes him mad. He grabs your wrist and you gasp when he pulls you with him, bringing you to his room instead of yours.
You try to free yourself from his grip, but you fail miserably, almost tripping over your feet. Some people look at you weirdly, no one really stops to ask what's going on. He drags you to his door and opens it hurriedly, closing it when you're both inside.
He takes your books and your backpack away from you, putting them on the ground. You observe him in awe, you're completely in shock. He removes his baseball jacket swiftly as well as his shoes and pushes you on his bed. Your body bounces back on the mattress, Jimin crawling up to you like a hungry feline.
Heat floods through your abdomen to your core, setting your whole body on fire while your panties are getting wet as he's about to do whatever he wants to you. You squirm under him, but not because you want to get away - your body is aching to be touched, to be pleasured.
Face to face, he presses his body against yours until there's no gap separating you. He is insistent and you feel like suffocating, but you'll survive, very much so. Jimin is giving you his breath and you're giving him yours.
His t-shirt hangs loosely on him, the ends of the sleeves stopping just over his elbows. Some kisses are placed on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. It tingles sweetly, your stomach doing a flip, butterflies partying in your belly, pussy mewling. You feel everything at once, and intensively.
You don't protest when he removes your crop top, letting your breasts out, nipples hardening from the cold air hitting them. He plays with them for a brief moment, pinching and pulling on the little buds, before lowering down on you. Your mouth hangs open, not expecting him to do that to you.
He pulls your shoes off your feet, letting them fall on the floor beside his bed. He eyes your little white socks, deciding it'd be better if you keep them on. Due to your position and the fact that you're wearing a skirt, Jimin can see your cotton panties from his point of view. He smirks, looking at the wet patch over your cunt.
He passes an arm under your back, pulling the zipper of your skirt down and he rips the material off of you. You gasp at his brutality, but you don't think about it furthermore as he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, sliding it down your legs despite your little whines of embarrassment.
Your femininity is now very exposed to his insatiable eyes, gazing at it like a hungry man. Settled between your legs, he passes them over his shoulders, holding the back of your thighs so they stay open for him.
"Hmm, always so pretty... And it's all for me," he licks his lips, pink tongue peeking through them. He pushes your thighs up against your chest so he has a better access to your cunt, already glistening in your arousal. Only your feet are touching his shoulders, now. You wish for a moment that he was shirtless, and you're too shy to ask him to remove his t-shirt.
Your meaty thighs are squished over your lower stomach and you won't lie that the position is hard to keep. You're not that flexible, and surely not athletic, unlike Jimin. You whimper a little bit, feeling his breath on your wet pussy, making you shiver.
"Hold your legs up for me, sweetie," he softly commands, giving you an appreciative smile when you sneak your hands under your knees. "Good girl," he praises and you can feel your clit pulsating at how badly his words affect you.
He places his arms around your thighs and takes a hold of your hips. The cool metal of his rings brushes against your skin and you notice the chain around his neck dangling, the pendant bumping into the bed covers.
Jimin finally focuses on your cunt and when he blows on it, you can't hold in your moan. He's happy to hear your reactions, loving how you're so sensitive, how your puffy clit begs him to suck on it. But the first thing he does is kiss your inner thighs delicately while caressing your body along your curves with his veiny hands.
Then, his lips get closer to your warmth, impatiently waiting for him. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves and suckles on it, eliciting quiet moans from you. It's gentle and you've never felt better, your fingers are in no comparison to his skillful mouth.
He sucks a bit more and your face contorts in pleasure. You try to glance at Jimin, but your position only allows you to see a fluffy head of black hair buried between your legs. The view is so filthy and you become drunk off his mouth, loving what's happening, barely remembering that he threatened you to leak the videos of you two having sex.
The sucks turn into licks, his wet muscle sliding from your hole up to your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips apart in the process. He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, circling around it, just dipping in slightly enough to make you needy.
Before you can ask for more, he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud, moving his muscle from side to side rapidly. You moan out, feeling delicious tingles in the pit of your stomach. You grip your thighs harder, pussy clenching and begging to be fucked by Jimin's huge dick with such eagerness.
"Oh, my God, Jimin!" Your legs start to shake and his tongue gives you an orgasm, arching your back as he keeps stimulating your clit until you're off your high.
You sense him collecting your cream with his tongue, dipping into your folds. You let go of your thighs, letting them fall by your sides. You try to catch your breath as Jimin is still nuzzled in your pussy as if he's licking the plate after eating his meal, leaving nothing behind.
"Please, s-stop..." You cry out, being overstimulated by him. You attempt to push his head away, but he doesn't nudge a bit. "It's too much."
He looks up at you, leaning on his elbows. "Stop complaining or I'll fuck this pussy with my cock without feeling any pity," he warns you and you give up, but you still whine weakly.
When you think he's finished, he penetrates you with two fingers at once, sliding in so easily with how wet you are. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your own fingers are certainly not as big as Jimin's. They might be small for a man, but in no way that means they're the same size as yours.
"Shh, my sweet baby, it's okay. Relax, you're so tense..." He says, face hovering over your cunt as he slowly pumps his digits into you. He keeps them straight the first few strokes, but he starts to scissor your insides as well. You feel your pussy expanding around his fingers, it's a really unfamiliar sensation, but since it's Jimin, you slowly chill down.
He hooks his fingers perfectly inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. The overstimulation is replaced by this new pleasure, much more intense and significant than the other. He expertly moves his two digits at a regular pace, holding your thigh up with his free hand.
Your juices are dripping down your ass, the feeling kind of uncomfortable, but Jimin fingering you makes you forget about everything around you except for him.
His palm is facing up, colliding with your clit each time he's knuckles deep into your messy cunt. He hums pleasantly when he feels you clench around him, seeing that you're having a good time. He lowers his head again and you immediately grasp his hair in your fist when he nips at your sensitive clit.
He flattens his palm since his chin is in the way and instead pets your spot inside of you with the pads of his fingers. It's sweet and almost magical. You feel like he's munching on your pussy, opening and closing his mouth over your clit, tongue viciously licking the little bud. It's slow, it's perfect, it's everything your body needs. That you need.
You let out soft moans, pulling on his black locks, completely in love with his mouth until it leaves you again. You would have complained, despite his warning of earlier, but he literally finger fucks you and it cuts you off instantly from saying anything.
He doesn't miss a beat, constantly rubbing your magic spot, making you lift your back from the mattress. You twist the bedsheets between your fingers, a fire in your belly, growing more and more with Jimin's ministrations.
"What the-!" You never say the end of your sentence, frowning and closing your eyes as you let the pleasure of another orgasm take over you. Jimin never stops, gaze shifting between your face and your pussy regularly to catch your reactions. "Jimin, wha-what's... Oh, God!" You scream, and everything happens so fast.
He pumps his fingers in and a clear liquid floods out of your cunt, in droplets first, but then bigger. You don't see what's happening, but an intense pleasure rips through you and your body is shaking like a leaf.
"Oh, fuck," you hear Jimin cursing, almost moaning after. His rhythm slows down, more fluid coming out. "You're such a girl good, shit, it's so fucking hot," he growls and stops his movements, hand cupping your cunt, patting it gently.
There's a wet puddle under your ass and you blink several times, coming back to Earth, feeling totally knocked out. "Jiminie..." You whine out, looking down at him.
The front of his t-shirt is soaked and some droplets fall from his chin. Immediately, you feel your cheeks heating up, so embarrassed from what you did. You squirted all over him to the point of wetting his clothes. But he looks nowhere disgusted, rather turned on than anything else.
He laughs, though it's not to mock you at all. He's just so happy, so fucking in love.
"I'm sorry..." You apologize shyly, but Jimin shakes his head, crawling back up to you.
"No, baby, no..." He coos, pampering your cheeks and forehead in feathery kisses. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It felt good, am I right?" He asks and you nod, feeling particularly ashamed. "Of course it was, I should have filmed it... Well, maybe next time," he sighs contentedly, smiling adorably.
He kisses you on the lips and after that intense orgasm, you start to feel guilty. Embarrassed, ashamed. Not because you stained his t-shirt, but because you liked it. A lot.
It makes you want to repeat it solely with Jimin. Forever and ever. But you can't, not again, not after you told yourself you wouldn't.
For Jimin, it was everything he's ever wanted in his life. You and him in the same bed, having sex, enjoying yourselves. It couldn't be better, really. He'll do anything it takes to keep you with him and believe him when he tells you there's going to be a next time.
Nothing will stop him from having what he wants, not even you.
4K notes · View notes