#stalker vibes

[draculasfavoritewife]

First Snowfall

Summary: It's anyone's guess whether you will be the eventual victor or end up just another casualty, but you've never been one to back down from a good game, especially not when faced with such an intriguing player.

Pairing: Peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow x fem!District12!Reader

Warnings: Sensuality and sexual tension, references to alcohol, Snow kind of gives off stalker vibes towards reader hehe.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is no joke one of my favorite films of all time. I am obsessed with the story and addicted to the emotional highs and lows that following young Coriolanus's tragic arc brings me. I fully recognize he's a bit of a psycho, but did that fact stop me from falling deeply in love with him and all of his problems? Not one bit. I make no excuses for this maladjusted man or his choices. I'm just here to kiss his pretty face and validate his feelings.

*Takes place sometime during Snow's posting in District 12, kind of an AU where he likely didn't find Lucy Gray again

"You're an enigma to me," he tells you out of the blue one night, as you're clearing away empty dishes and refilling his drink.

You pause only briefly to glance down at him, sitting sprawled there in his usual corner seat, long legs kicked out, body slouched back. Relaxed, but his focus is trained on you like a magnet, crystal blue eyes narrowed and surgically sharp.

He's a fascinating one, this young Peacekeeper with the haunted face and palest blond hair. He's been coming here to the tavern whenever he has leave time for months now, and unlike his compatriots, who either think themselves entirely above your people or simply pounce upon the local women like unwelcome birds of prey, he actually talks sometimes.

You huff a small laugh, looking right back into those deep, cold eyes. "So? What is it to you if I am?"

He leans into the wall at his back, accepting the cup from your hands and raising it to his lips. "It makes me wonder if you're trying to be on purpose. I pride myself on figuring people out."

That sounds like a challenge of some sort, so you prop your tray of dirty dishes against your hip with a playful smirk. "What exactly confuses you about me, Mr. Snow?"

"You don't hate me." The words slide from between his teeth like satin, unhurried and carefully indifferent.  "Not like the rest of these people."

"I do know how to make small talk with anyone, Sir. Comes with customer service." Despite your tart response, the grin pulling your lips up on one side is genuine. "You have no idea how I talk about you in the kitchen after I've clocked out for the day."

That finally brings him forward, gaze piercing you even more intensely, his own lips now curving into a sly smile, the kind you see on the merchants' faces right as they're about to close on a particularly lucrative deal.

"Now see, I don't believe that one bit." He almost chuckles at the idea, but not quite. "What I have figured out by now is that you always wear your feelings out in the open, like a bright red coat. If you truly hated me, I would have known it from the first night I drank here."

You're slightly unsettled by that, aware of your heart racing and face growing warm, but it's not from discomfort.

You can't name what it is, exactly, but it's not an unpleasant feeling.

"Maybe I try to see people as people, no matter what they are," you respond with a shrug. "Some Peacekeepers only join up because they thrive on violence, of course. I just don't think that's your story."

His face is so mercurial, its self-satisfied amusement swiftly morphing into a dark scowl. "You know nothing of my story."

"Maybe not." Undeterred, you swipe down his table with the damp cloth from your apron pocket, forcing him to move his elbow or let his uniform get wet. "But I do know what those men look like, Mr. Snow. I've seen them my whole life. You look like a man who does what he must to survive, instead. And I can understand that, if nothing else."

He looks away, takes a long drink, apparently declining to say anything in answer to that.

But as you turn to move on to your next table, he reaches out, brushes the backs of his fingers across your forearm, making you look back.

"Will I see you again next time?" he queries softly.

"I have this shift most days of the week," you reply lightly. "And on my days off I stay here for the music anyway."

He nods shortly, sits back against the wall again. "Good."

You finally step away, distancing yourself from his orbit that always seems so difficult to leave.

"Take care. I'll see you again, Mr. Snow."

You spot him in his usual seat a second before he sees you -- the crowd is thick tonight, making the air warm and the shadows in the corners of the tavern practically breathe as they ripple with movement. He looks oddly put out as you approach his table.

"I've had a different server so far tonight," he mutters, lips pursing in accusation as if that fact is somehow your fault.

You laugh. "It's my day off, Snow. I came here for the dancing, not to be your serving girl for once."

A spark of realization flickers across his face, turning it ever so slightly less severe. "Well, you can't blame me for missing your superior pour, can you?" He knocks back the rest of his drink and flashes you a glittering smile that showcases his perfect teeth for all of a half-second.

"You flatter me." A tempting beat is starting up from the main stage now, and impulsively you hold out a hand.

"Come dance. It's a good time."

He calculates -- you, the distance he would have to cross to take your hand, the way the music is already starting to intoxicate your body. "Maybe. Ask me again in a few songs and after another drink."

You send him an exaggerated pout and run away to join the center of the main room, where your people are starting to clap, stomp, and spin, and you slip right into the beautiful chaos, searching for partners and singing along with the well-loved song.

Snow appears among the ring of spectators after only the first dance, having quickly realized that you were in some high demand as a dance partner and that he doesn't want to completely miss his chance to talk to you more. As the next tune starts up at the talented hands of the live musicians, he abruptly cuts in front of a district boy and closes his long fingers around your wrist, pulling you to him.

"Ready for that dance now?" he asks, dripping with the kind of confidence that tells you he knows you won't refuse him.

You breathlessly nod as the two of you test your rhythms together, a few exploratory steps before the music gets going in earnest.

Then you're squarely in the midst of all the noise and motion, and even though he's not from 12 his steps are certain and the pressure of his hands as he moves you around him is steady, and you wonder if that's his keen observation at work again, if he's watched the dancing here closely enough on other nights that he picked it up so well.

"A true mystery," he breathes into your hair as he brings you in close to his body again. "When a deer is given the opportunity to escape the hound, they don't usually go running right back to it."

"You're weren't hunting me, last time I checked."

You don't miss the way he raises a dark eyebrow and neither confirms nor denies your statement.

"And besides, I'm not afraid of you. We've been over this before."

"Hmm." He lifts you in time with the other dancers, his hands grasping your waist so slender but terribly strong. "You like this, don't you."

You're not at all sure if he means the banter, or the way he's holding you right now, and to tell the truth deep down, you think the answer might be the same either way. So you only smile -- not a clear answer -- as he sweeps you around and back to the safety of the floor, stepping away lightly and then turning you back in to press against his tall, lean body for a moment.

"What do you want?" he asks curiously.

From tonight?

From him?

From your strange metaphorical dance that parallels this dance of flesh and blood?

He seems to enjoy when you've been coy with him so far, so you simply push away from him again, a gentle press of your fingertips against his firm chest.

"Maybe I can show you sometime, Mr. Snow?"

He reels you right back in, your back now flush against his chest and abdomen, feeling the lean muscles of his harsh Peacekeeper training as they flex into your soft flesh through the useless barrier of your clothes. A demanding arm traps you there, his other hand drifting upwards to brush your hair away from your neck, skirting ever so weightlessly over your collarbone and shoulder and leaving little flashes of warmth in its wake.

"Coriolanus," he murmurs in your ear, lips barely skimming your skin. "You can use it, if you like."

His first name?

Heat blossoms across your body, surprising you with its hunger.

Then you're suddenly plunged into the sharp chill of his absence as the music fades and he releases you like you burned him, staring down at you with his damned arrogant smirk.

"I believe you will show me what pleases you, eventually," he remarks as he starts to back away from the throng once more, still not breaking that blazing eye contact.

"But only because I will keep watching, and I will figure you out, just as I always do."

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 9

Obsession - Broken Window - Bruises - "Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble" (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible.)

Whumpee slightly opened their bedroom door and listened for any movements.

"I don't hear anything", Whumpee whispered to themself before opening the door farther and quietly stepping out into the hall.

They inched ever so cautiously down the hall until they stood in front of the door. The door that led to their freedom. Their exit from this maniac.

They took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.

They screamed as an electric current coursed through their body.

Their stiffened body fell to the floor once the current was turned off.

"Yhmm, hmm, hm", Whumpee heard the deranged maniac hum.

They peeped an eye up. Their body shaking from the after shocks.

"Tsk, tsk", the person knelt down beside Whumpee, "whatever should I do with you. You're supposed to be asleep."

"You.... you... elec... electrified... th.. the... hmm", Whumpee fought for every breath.

"Of course I did", they reached down and pet Whumpee's head, "I allowed you a bit of freedom, but I didn't fully trust you. I guess my hunch was right when I decided to do this", they pulled Whumpee's head up to look at their face, "I suppose you ruined my trust. We have to go back to the shackles."

"Whumper please..."

"What did you call me?", Whumper threatened to slap Whumpee across the cheek.

"Ma-Master", Whumpee looked down, "I-I'm sorry, I was just wanting to smell the flowers outside. I didn't want to bother you for such a measly request."

"Right. So what is rule number five? I don't believe you, but what rule would have broken had you truly been going outside?", Whumper rubbed circles along Whumpee's cheek, "hmm."

"I'm not to go outside", Whumpee whispered, "without you."

"Yes. Plus we just picked flowers. They're in the vase on the table. I would have been very happy to catch you smelling the flowers. Though you should be asleep", Whumper scolded lightly, "shall we go smell them."

Whumpee weakly nodded, they hated the flowers. The only time they were allowed outside was when Whumper wanted to look over the garden or work in the garden. Whumpee had to be attached to a chain connected to the house when they were out like that.

Whumpee followed Whumper's lead and leaned into the flowers on the table.

They did smell good, Whumpee did have to admit, but not as good as freedom would smell.

"Let's get you back to bed" Whumper looked up at them after a few minutes.

"I'm not really tired", Whumpee looked down at the floor.

"Well, unfortunately, you have a bedtime that can not be ignored. You get cranky when you don't get enough sleep", Whumper sighed, "I'm not dealing with a cranky Whumpee."

"Master, you just sent an electrical current through my body, and you want me to sleep after that? My body is still shaking from that charge", Whumpee hissed.

"Watch your attitude, and I didn't send anything through your body. That wouldn't have happened had you been asleep like you were supposed to be. Or at least not trying to leave", Whumper sighed, "I suppose you won't fall asleep now. At least not without a little help."

Whumpee turned and tried to run, but Whumper already had a death grip on their wrist and was pulling them in for a hug.

"Stop fighting me", Whumper warned, "just give in. It's a lot less painful for you."

"Please. I was out for three days from the last time you drugged me", Whumpee pleaded, "I don't want to be unconscious around you for that long."

"I will take care of you, don't worry about that", Whumper spoke in a creepy voice, "you're my sweet toy."

"Let me go, you creep", Whumpee yelled as they fought.

"Oh stop it.... STOP IT", Whumper let go and let Whumpee fall to the floor.

Whumpee gasped for the air that was knocked out of them.

"You know better than to fight me", Whumper reached down and grabbed Whumpee's ankles and started to drag them toward their bedroom.

"No", Whumpee huffed, "please."

"You know I love you, and I know what's best for you", Whumper grunted.

"No you don't", Whumpee cried out, "you kidnapped me. You are holding me captive."

Whumper continued to drag Whumpee, "you'll spend the night shackled to the wall. Just to keep you out of trouble."

Whumpee was restrained in a set of shackles that Whumper had welded into the brick wall of their bedroom.

Whumper came in carrying a cup, "here, drink this."

"I don't want to. Please let me have some sort of dignity", Whumpee looked at the cup.

"It's not laced. I know you get thirsty when you're upset", Whumper held the cup closer, "I'll give you the sleep medicine in a few minutes to help you relax. I didn't mean to make you so upset."

Whumpee nodded before leaning forward to the cup.

Whumper held a napkin under Whumpee's chin to catch any stray water.

"I do love you", Whumper repeated as they stood, "I know you don't like that fact, but you are mine. You can hate me all you want, that's fine, but I'm obsessed with you. That will never change."

"I just... I just wish you would give me a little bit more freedom. I know I messed up tonight, but I just don't want to be inside all of the time", Whumpee sighed.

"You go outside with me all of the time", Whumper frowned.

"Only to the limit of my chain. I want to go out out. Like shopping or just for a drive", Whumpee looked down at the floor.

"You'll draw attention to us. I don't trust you like that. Not yet, at least", Whumper sighed.

Whumper came back with the medicine.

"I don't want that. Please. I'll try hard to go to sleep", Whumpee looked up at Whumper with soulful eyes.

Whumper made a judgemental glare, "and you're expecting me to trust you."

"Please.. I-I don't won't the medicine", Whumpee whispered.

"To bad, I don't want you to be awake anymore", Whumper knelt down, "you can take the medicine nicely, or I'll pry your mouth open."

Whumpee set their lips tightly and looked up at Whumper defiantly.

"You're a real piece of work tonight", Whumper got up and left the room.

Whumpee already knew they wouldn't win. Whumper would get the medicine in them one way or another. They were not about to make Whumper's life any easier though.

Whumper came in carrying an o-ring gag.

Whumpee lowered their head, and became as rigid as they could.

"You're being ridiculous", Whumper knelt down and again. The gag in one hand. The other hand now empty, "I'm giving you a stronger dose because of your behavior. You could have just had a benadryl, but no."

Whumpee still kept themself as tight as possible.

Whumper reached up and pinched Whumpee's nose closed. Their fingers squeezed tightly to close the nostrils.

After a few moments, Whumpee began to shake their head and body to get Whumper to let go of them. They kicked and struggled against Whumper.

Whumper only watched. A bored expression lined their face.

"All of this because you couldn't stay in bed. You literally could be in your warm bed right now", Whumper pointed out.

Whumpee gasped loudly.

Whumper quickly held Whumpee's mouth open and forced the ring in between Whumpee's teeth. Whumpee was then forcibly pulled down, so Whumper could buckle it.

"Ow", Whumpee complained.

"Could have been avoided had you behaved", Whumper sighed.

Whumper left again and this time came back with the medicine.

Whumpee continued to fight against the restraints.

"You're acting like a rabid animal", Whumper looked down at them with a sad expression, "let's have you settle down."

Whumpee's head was pulled back, and Whumpers dropped one pill into the back of Whumpee's throat, then a small bit of water.

Whumpee head was lowered slightly so they would swallow.

Whumpee struggled for a moment before the medicine went down.

They fought their head out of Whumper's hand and leaned forward to choke.

"You can take the second one like a normal person if you want. You know, since you were talking about dignity earlier", Whumper held up the pill.

Whumpee stared angrily up at Whumper. A stream of drool pooled down their opened mouth.

"Yuck", Whumper reached for a tissue and wiped Whumpee's face, "I suppose you're choosing the hard way."

Whumper sighed as they pulled Whumpee's head back, "always the difficult one", they followed the same method: pill, water.

Whumpee leaned up and choked again.

"Annoying", Whumper unbuckled the gag and started to remove the it,"always have to choose the difficult way."

"I hate you.... I HATE YOU", Whumpee yelled.

"That's fine, but I will always love you", Whumper chuckled.

Whumper came in and checked on Whumpee.

Whumpee was still somewhat awake, but their eyes were glossed over. Drool dripped from their lips. Tears stained their cheeks.

Whumpee looked up when they saw Whumper come in front of them.

"Hu", Whumpee whined, "huuuu... gg... peas-hmmm?"

"Yes, you can have a hug", Whumper reached for the keys and unshackled Whumpee's arms.

They picked Whumpee up and carried them to bed.

Whumper held Whumpee close in a hug until their heavy eyed finally closed.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, maybe one day you will get use to this. Then I won't have to drug you", Whumper sighed as they brushed some hair out of Whumpee's face, "until then we will deal with your tantrums, and I will give you all of the hugs you want. That's my dream at least."

Whumper laid Whumpee in their bed and covered them up.

"You'll be unconscious for a few days again, so I'll have to remember keep a close eye on you to make sure you are okay", Whumper leaned in to move away some hair from Whumpee's face again, "you are my sweet Whumpee. You think I like hurting you?"

Whumper watched for a few more minutes before deciding to go to bed themself.

Nothing else to do since Whumpee was unconscious now. They were less fun to play with like this.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

[romantacysblog]

Joe Goldberg | Imagine

Imagine waking up in a dimly lit room, the faint smell of coffee filling the air. You try to move, but you’re not alone.

Joe is there, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching you. His eyes are soft but intense, as though he’s memorizing every detail of your face. He doesn’t speak at first—just watches you, like he’s waiting for something. A sign. A reaction.

You stir, blinking the sleep from your eyes, and his gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and hypnotic. “I just had to wait for you to see it too.”

He reaches out, his hand brushing the hair away from your face in a way that feels oddly tender, but you can sense the weight behind it. The control. The need.

“You belong here,” he says, the words heavy with possessiveness. “I knew it the moment I saw you. Everything I’ve done… it was all for this. For you.”

His thumb traces your jawline as he speaks, and you can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. It feels familiar, safe, but there’s a cold edge to it. Like you’re trapped in a story that’s been written for you long before you even knew you were a part of it.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “That connection. It’s not just in my head. We were meant to find each other.”

You want to pull away. To escape, to remind yourself that this isn’t normal, that he’s dangerous. But you can’t—his presence is suffocating in a way that feels almost… necessary. Like you need him to breathe.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispers, almost like a promise, as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Not now. Not ever.”

Joe watches you closely, his gaze never wavering, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s shrinking to just the two of you. It’s not just the way his eyes trace the curves of your body, but the way he seems to take everything in — every subtle shift, every breath you inhale, every nervous flutter of your lashes.

He’s waiting for you to react. Waiting for that tiny crack in your armor, the moment when you let yourself acknowledge what you’ve been avoiding.

The air between you thickens, and you feel the tension—the pull—growing stronger, unbearable. It’s not the same feeling you’ve had with anyone else. It’s not desire. It’s something darker. Something that feels like need.

“Don’t act like you don’t feel it,” Joe says, his voice low, a quiet command that’s both a question and an accusation. “I know you do.”

You try to look away, but his eyes follow every movement, reading you like an open book. His hand moves to rest on your thigh, just a touch at first—light, barely there, but you can feel the weight of it, like it’s the start of something inevitable.

“Stop pretending you don’t want this,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. The way your body reacts when I’m close.”

He leans in, just enough so that his breath is warm against your ear, and it makes your pulse quicken, even though you know you shouldn’t want this. Not like this. Not with him.

“Why fight it?” he breathes. “I’m all you need. I’m the only one who truly sees you.”

His lips brush against the curve of your jaw, soft, tentative, but you can feel the heat rising in him. And even though everything inside you tells you to pull away, to run, you don’t.

His fingers move just slightly, a ghost of a touch that burns through the thin fabric of your clothes, grazing the skin of your thigh like he’s claiming it. And you know it’s not a question of if he’ll push further—it’s a matter of when. When he’ll cross that line, and you won’t be able to stop it. You won’t want to.

“Tell me you want this,” Joe says, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “Tell me you want me the way I want you.”

The room feels suffocating, and yet, it’s all you’ve ever wanted in this twisted, suffocating way. He’s not the man you should crave, not the one you should let this close—but here you are, trembling under his gaze, drowning in the darkness of your desire.

And for a second, you wonder if you’re already lost.

[thewrongtape]

Text from unknown number: “I can see you sleeping.” I live alone.

[pythoness94]

Chat, am I paranoid or what?

because there is this person on ao3 called the_wrath right? And basically they've been commenting on all my works and shit, and that is so tight, right? I thought that shit was sweet and was straight vibing until today I decided to check their bookmarks and saw this.

(excuse the blurry image) at first I was like "oh cool, I'm their only bookmark." Than i paused, because I'm their only bookmark. You see, I write this story with another person @purple-racoon-80 . right? And this person, wrath, has commented on their fics too. So I was like "cool, we have a superfan, bit weird but whatever." until I slowly realized that I've never seen Wrath comment on another fic, never kudos another fic, I was so fucking confused. But I was like, oh its a new account, right?

FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE FIC WAS CREATED AND ONE WEEK AFTER I JOINED THE FIC TO WRITE WITH HAWKINS, WTF? Its not like, too weird but I still got a chill and a weird vibe. So am I crashing out reasonably or what? Let me know.

[yeetus-feetus]

Quick give me all the songs you know with stalker vibes! I'm making an unhinged TimBerKon playlist!

[savamava]

Creep | Sebastian SDV x OC

Sebastian is 100% a pervert stalker in this. I personally hate writing y/n so I made an OC. This is my first post on here so idrk what I'm doing. I'm probably gonna do a part 2 or make this into a little story. Idk we'll see.

Warnings: stalking, pervert behavior, masturbating, mentions of smoking, maybe that's it??

Word count: 1.5k

Sebastian is a creep. He understands that what he's doing is wrong, but he just can't help it. He can't help himself, especially when the new farmer is so young and pretty.

~•~•~•~•~

When Sebastian found out that a new farmer was moving to Stardew Valley, he wasn't expecting much. He thought it would be another old man. But when a pretty brunette walked up to introduce herself one Friday night at the saloon, he was taken aback. She was shorter than him by almost a foot, with freckles adorning her adorable face. She introduced herself as Bee. She was definitely not what he was expecting.

That wasn't a bad thing, though! But Sebastian knew he had to keep his distance. He knew that if he got close to the new farmer he'd want her, in more ways than one. So he ignored her.

This didn't go over well... Bee stopped him anytime she saw him. Every single time, he couldn't stop himself from raking his eyes over her body, taking in her curves and the soft details of her face. He wouldn't even listen to what she was saying half the time, he'd be too distracted by the way her lips moved when she spoke, the way she stepped closer to him when she became too enthusiastic about her new farm, how delicious she smelt when the wind wafted her scent towards him...

God, he needs to stop. Even thinking about her now, in the comfort of his room, has him reeling. He wants to see her, to talk to her. His programming can wait.

It's late, almost midnight according to the clock displayed at the bottom of his computer screen. Despite this, he gets up and throws on a hoodie. He tiptoes up the stairs, scared that his mom or Demetrius might catch him. Or even worse, Maru.

Perfect little Maru has become friends with her. Of course she has, she has to please everyone. Sebastian scoffs at the idea of them hanging out, jealousy fueling his urges to see Bee. He wants to be friends with her, he really does. He's just so scared that his creepy intentions will come to light and she'd be scared off. This thought obviously doesn't occur now, as he's walking through the mountain trail and down towards her house.

He takes in his surroundings, he hasn't been to this farm since she's moved in. There's a chicken coop and a silo at the far side of the farm, and a small area is sectioned off for her crops. He admires all the hard work that she's put into this farm. He remembers how overgrown it was before, thinking about the times that him, Abigail and Sam would roam the abandoned field and have smoke seshes in the empty house.

Sebastian can't believe he's doing this. Reality sets in and he quietly laughs at himself. He almost turns around to go home. Almost.

He quietly walked up the steps of the farm house, cringing at the creaks from the old floorboards. He almost went for the door, hand hovering above the doorknob, but he hesitated. She might wake up if he wriggles the knob. He pulls his hand back and steps towards her window. It was cracked open.

Sebastian smirked to himself, slightly pushing the window up. It surprisingly didn't make a noise, sliding up with ease. He glanced up through his eyelashes, pushing his hair out of his face. She's still asleep. He carefully climbed through the window, holding his breath as he kept his eyes on you. He was half expecting her to open her eyes, but she didn't.

He noticed an orange cat sleeping at the end of the bed and smiled, refraining himself from petting it. The cat was quickly forgotten when Bee made a noise, turning over and facing him. Her eyes didn't open, it seemed like she was still fast asleep.

Sebastian noticed the very, very thin slip dress she was wearing and sucked in a sharp breath. He eyed the way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took, noticing how her nipples were perked up from the slight chill in the spring air. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, to fondle her tits and pinch her nipples, to put them in his mouth and suck on them until she begged him to stop, to give her more.

Sebastian is a creep. He understands that what he's doing is wrong, but he just can't help it. He can't help himself, especially when the new farmer is so young and pretty.

Sebastian let out a quiet, barely audible moan. His eyes wandered lower, to her stomach, then down to her thighs. They looked so soft. He brought his hand down to his crotch and palmed his hardening cock over his jeans. His knees almost buckled at the sensation. He closed his eyes, imagining it was Bee that was touching his there. His breathing became shallow as he imagined what she tasted like. What her mouth tasted like, her skin, her sweet pussy.

He froze when she moved again, opening his eyes to see her turning around. Her back faced him now, the blanket that was covering her fell onto the ground. Sebastian eyed her ass, the slip rode up, showing her bare ass cheeks and pink lace panties. He almost came in his pants from the sight alone.

He knew he was being a pervert. He knew that he'd be too embarrassed to ever face Bee again. But he couldn't help himself in the moment.

Sebastian quietly unbutton and unzipped his jeans and pulled his aching cock out. He groaned as he began stroking it, keeping his eyes on Bee's ass and imagining what it would look like if he was fucking her from behind. God, he wished he was right now. Maybe if he actually talked to her then he could convince her to have sex with him.

He bucked his hips into his hand and brought his free hand up to brush his hair out of his face. He wished that she was facing him so he could get a good look at her tits. He wished that she didn't have anything clothes on at all. He wished that he could rip that little piece of clothing off her body so he could see every inch of her, every curve, every scar, every beauty mark.

He thought about her sucking him off. He thought about fucking her mouth as he fisted his cock, whimpering at the thought of her trying to take his entire length down her throat. he imagined her pretty face as tears ran down her cheeks as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft. God, he would kill to have her pretty mouth on his dick.

Sebastian felt his stomach drop when she groaned. He shot his eyes open and stared at her, expecting to be caught. He waited for what felt like ages, but she didn't move or make any other sounds. He debated leaving, he didn't want to get caught being in her house. But he also didn't want to leave with blue balls.

He continued stroking his cock, hurrying up his pace to cum as quickly as possible and get out of there. Despite his anxieties, the idea of being caught by her turned him on even more. He imagined what she would do if she caught him. Would she be weirded out and yell at him, or does she have the same feelings that he has for her? Does she want him to fuck her as much as he wants to?

Sebastian imagined how you would look riding his dick. How your tits would bounce with every movement. The way your pretty face would look trying to adjust to his size. He felt himself getting closer to his release as he imagined how your pussy would feel squeezing his cock. He let out a low moan as he suddenly came in his hands, imagining it was Bee's pussy he was cumming in. He let out shuddering breaths as he continued stroking his cock, bringing himself down from his high.

When his euphoria finally wore off, Sebastian became embarrassed by his actions. He stared at his cum covered hands and sighed, putting his now soft cock back into his jeans and wiping his cum on them. He definitely won't be able to talk to Bee the next day, or maybe the rest of the week, and he's going to have a hard time when she tries to talk to him. He won't be able to think of anything but how perverted he is.

Sebastian made his way to her window, climbing back through it and shuffling away from the farm house. He wanted to get as far away as possible. He didn't want to think about what he did, he had to go home and go to sleep. Maybe that would fix his jumbled brain, sleeping it off.

When he finally made it back to his room, he immediately took his jeans and hoodie off, throwing the stained clothing into his dirty clothes bin and flopping onto his bed. He closed his eyes, only seeing images of Bee when he did. He groaned, he felt like there was no escape from her.

It was going to be difficult with her around...

[greedandenby]

Typical and totally normal Lestat behaviour.

(would've loved him to say this to Louis, but unfortunately this is from the unbearably Louis-lacking Blackwood Farm).