#[ x || what's wrong with a little chaos | desires ]

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Picture of a Cat.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After months of emailing back and forth, you finally meet the person you've been chatting with every day. Then you realize that Spencer is not just a girl's name.

Words: 2,7k.

TW: forensic!reader. with spencer of the early seasons very much in love in mind. the reader has a cat and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and maybe lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is pretty chaotic and not particularly serious😭 It might be best not to try to make sense of it. They're just two idiots in love, really.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

To say that Spencer was dying of nervousness was not enough to describe his true feelings.

From the moment he woke up this morning without any mail from you in his inbox, he began to feel that his day was going wrong and that it was becoming an endless nightmare. He had lost count of all the times he had checked his mail at work, hoping to see even a one-line message from you to calm his anxiety.

As someone who had received your good morning every day without fail for the last four months that you had been talking to each other daily, he was completely taken aback and couldn't quite put his finger on why. Perhaps he had said something to offend you, or maybe you were just not feeling the spark anymore. But astonishingly, none of your numerous emails that he had taken the time to reread on the jet indicated any cause for concern.

Everything had been so positive with you recently, and he was grateful to have someone to talk to, even if it was through a computer, every time he finished a challenging case and his mind just wanted to focus on something else. He found great comfort in reading about your day and your thoughts every morning, as if it were his newspaper. Even the pictures you always sent him of your cat sleeping in cute poses, eating, or doing anything else made him smile and gave him the idea of adopting a pet, even when he had never thought about the possibility of it before. You always helped him realize some desires he hadn't previously considered.

But suddenly he didn't have any of it. Nothing at all.

Reid's gaze fell once upon the computer on his desk, and his face was illuminated by its light as he reopened his email page for what might have been the thousandth time that day. His fingers tapped over and over on his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves as the page loaded at a slow pace. He took the opportunity to look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. It was ten o'clock at night, and yet, once again, there was no trace of you among his messages.

His heart stopped for a second when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to close the page he had opened on his computer at full speed before he could even realize who it was.

“Hey, take it easy, kid.” Derek said gently, removing his hand from his shoulder and stepping back a step. His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he was intrigued. “What were you watching?” He asked, with a playful smile.

“N-nothing.” Spencer's voice trembled beyond his control, and he quickly rose from his chair, trying to shield the computer with his body.

You had been his best-kept secret for quite some time, and he was content with that. He enjoyed the idea of maintaining a certain level of privacy in that aspect of his life, as something just between you two. It was more special and romantic that way.

“Nothing? Is that what they call those things now?” Derek inquired, his tone teasing but not unkind. The boy blushed a little, unsure why. “I must admit I'm surprised.”

Reid had to think for a few seconds to figure out what his colleague was talking about, but even before he could understand, Morgan had started speaking again.

“Anyway, turn that off.” He said, pointing to the computer and settling his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. “Someone's waiting for you in the boardroom.”

Almost automatically, Spencer frowned and watched him, waiting for him to provide more information or at least laugh if he was making a joke. However, that didn't occur. Derek didn't laugh at him or anything of that nature.

“Go, Reid. It might be best not to keep the girl waiting.” He gave his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before heading off on the way to the elevator.

A girl? Waiting for him? How?

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to grasp the meaning behind Derek's words and the circumstances surrounding the supposed visitor. With a measured pace, he stepped away from his desk and proceeded down the hallway, heading for the boardroom with a contemplative demeanor.

As he opened the door and cautiously stepped inside, he was met with the most glorious sight of his life, the one he had waited so long for, the one that now quickened his pulse and seemed to bring him back to life after feeling dead all day.

You.

Standing at the table, looking intently at the various maps and data scattered around the round table in the center of the room. So deep in thought that you were not even aware of his presence. As pretty as in the pictures of you that he had seen.

He couldn't help but let out a little "oh my" at the sight of you. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he could hear it from across the room, or maybe his ears were just ringing from the blood rushing to his head. Reid stood still, looking at you, amazed. He could see how the light touched your hair and how you bit your lip as you concentrated on organizing the papers and a folder in your hand. It was real. It had to be real.

“Hi.” His voice suddenly startled you, making you realize that you were no longer alone and that the door was now open.

You look up from the documents you are examining and see him by chance. It takes you a moment to realize that he works there, and only by the FBI badge in his pants pocket.

“Hi.” You responded after giving him a very obvious visual scan.

Your voice.

It was the first time he'd heard you speak, and it was just as he'd imagined it would be.

“I’m-” You extended your hand in a cordial manner to introduce yourself, but he interrupted.

“I know who you are.” He spoke quickly, smiling at you. “I...I...you are...” Reid cursed himself for stuttering the sentence as his tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Okay…I'm waiting for someone.” You said it politely, but your tone showed your anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know it was him.

Spencer let out a laugh to relieve the growing tension, but it came out sounding like a cough. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he acting like a child? He was an agent, for God's sake. His job was to talk to complete strangers every day and do entire profiles without getting nervous. He found it hard to understand how that was changing so much now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak more clearly.

“Yes, I know.” He replied, sounding a bit nervous. His voice was a little shaky, as if he was straining to get the words out.

���Do you know if this person is coming?” You were standing there with your arms crossed, trying to see if anyone else was coming after him.

At that moment, a look of confusion came over his face. It had not even crossed your mind that it might be him. And although it was to be expected and totally understandable since you had never seen a picture of him, Spencer still felt a twinge of pain and insecurity inside. Perhaps you expected him to look different, or at least not look like a kid playing federal agent.

Maybe it would have been helpful if he had sent you a picture of himself when you sent yours. That way, you might have had a better idea of what to expect. But you were very understanding of his insecurities and lack of comfort with the photos at the time. So he thought everything would be fine anyway…he was so wrong.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking up. “Actually, it's me.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to hide how nervous he was, with little success.

As soon as he said it, you looked surprised, your mouth slightly open, and then you laughed.

“That's pretty funny.” You said it with a slightly uncomfortable smile. When you realized he wasn't laughing, you added, “Good joke.”

Seeing your reaction, Spencer felt the urge to shrink back and disappear, as if that action could erase the last few seconds of your memory and also erase the feeling he suddenly had of having screwed up in an unfamiliar way. He felt his chest tighten as you asked him again if the person you were waiting for was coming. Was it so hard to believe that he was the person you were talking to? The one who earned your trust and affection?

“I spent several hours on a plane, so please let me know if your colleague is coming.” You spoke again, your tone conveying a hint of disappointment and fatigue. “If I'm a nuisance and Spencer doesn't want to see me, I'd appreciate knowing that.”

Hearing you say his first name gave him an unexpected shiver. It sounded so pleasant and intimate. He took another deep breath and forced herself to speak clearly.

“Wait, he does want to see you.” He paused for a moment, realizing he sounded a bit ridiculous. “I mean, I do. I'm Spencer.”

You're momentarily taken aback, unsure if the guy in front of you is joking. His nervous expression suggests otherwise, and you even entertain the possibility that he might be crazy.

Oh my goodness, you were all alone on a practically empty floor of the FBI offices with an insane agent.

“Just let me know if she's coming or not, please.” You said, taking a few steps back to be at a safe distance from him.

His mouth was so dry he could only manage a soft, hoarse whisper. “She? Did you think I was a girl?”

“You?” You furrowed your brow, feeling more confused and uneasy.

At last, he had a suggestion and reached into his pocket to retrieve his badge, holding it out to you in a gesture that seemed to convey innocence.

“I’m Spencer Reid.” He said, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he was caught off guard by the peculiar turn of events.

You looked at the badge, confused, and slowly looked up, looking into his eyes closely for the first time. You studied his face intently, not really believing it.

“Are you Spencer? My Spencer?” You asked.

When you said “my,” he felt a flutter in his chest. His brain was trying to tell him not to get too invested in the moment, but the vulnerable part of him was moved by the way you said it, like he was all yours. There was a special air of affection there that he liked.

“Yes.” He replied, almost in a whisper. “I am.”

You had to take a moment to process the information, eyes glued to his as you tried to make sense of it. Little by little, you come to understand. This was the person you had been talking to every day for months—the person with whom you had shared your fears, stories, and dreams. Yet you hadn't even asked him for a picture or a call—anything that would have made you realize that he wasn't a woman. It seems almost unreal to you to have fallen into such a confusion.

“I sent pictures of my cat to a man?!” Was the first thing you thought, and it managed to come out of your mouth clearly, in an indignant tone. “I said you were my soulmate!”

Now you were the one who sounded insane.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at you and seeing the different emotions on your face. When he finally spoke, his voice had a hint of insecurity in it.

“Yes…but your cat is cute, and you take good pictures.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit nervous. “Did you know that the evocative power of images is widely studied? They can help us verbalize and even rescue forgotten memories and stories from our collective memory and-” He silences himself. “Sorry.”

When he fell silent, your brain couldn't do the same, and thousands of hard-to-filter words began to appear. You had a strange feeling in your chest, a mixture of familiarity with the way his ramblings sounded to you, just like the emails you loved so much, and confusion about the whole situation.

“This is so strange.” You said to yourself, pacing around the room a couple of times. “I was so stupid-”

He observed you with great interest, trying to discern the thoughts and feelings that were likely swirling in your mind. He could empathize with your confusion, as he was also uncertain about the circumstances. He couldn't blame you for feeling bewildered. You had embarked on your journey with the expectation of meeting a girl named Spencer, but instead, you encountered him. You had envisioned a lovely girl, and you found him—a simple individual, a nerd who had been told on numerous occasions that nerds lacked charm.

“No. You're not.” He said, attempting to manage his desire to bridge the gap and offer solace. “It was a misunderstanding. I should have provided you with more information.”

“How would you even start a conversation by saying you were a man?” You let out a laugh to yourself. “I would have stopped talking to you instantly.”

The sentence hit him right in the heart.

The two of you had the opportunity to communicate by mail when your boss asked you to send reports on several of the autopsies with similarities you had done to the BAU. It was then that a picture of your cat was sent in the middle of the files. Spencer was the one who received it and made an attempt at a joke after your long apology. And then another, and another, until you ended up talking for four months until now.

But if you had known from the beginning that he wasn't a woman, you wouldn't have bothered to get to know him at all.

“I...I don't know what to tell you..” He admitted, sounding a little more vulnerable. “But why did you think I was a woman?”

After a moment's thought, you said. “Your name made me think of a girl I knew in college. And you...you were so nice and sweet in your emails that I found it hard to believe that a man could be like that through a screen.”

When you shared how you perceived him through his emails, it seemed that a certain vulnerability came to light. The situation had turned the tables, and now he was the one standing there trying to process the information.

“I thought I finally had a friend. You know what my job is like...and yours is just as all-consuming.” You spoke again, having to sit for a moment in one of the chairs in the place, trying to calm down. “It would've been great to have someone who understood me as a friend.”

He felt a pang in his heart at your words and was instantly reminded of the times you'd confided in him about how isolated you felt in your lab, surrounded by dead people and computers.

“You can still do that.” He replied without thinking. “I’m still the same person as before, just different packaging.”

For you, it was much more than that. First of all, you trusted him in the beginning because you thought he was a girl; that's why he understood you so much and you had that special connection.

Hell, you'd even told him how bad your period was, and he'd understood so well. He'd given you tips and facts that you didn't know that were beyond your expectations of what the average man knew.

“I mean, I'm still someone you can talk to.” He continued, his hands moving nervously in his pockets. “Unless you...unless you don't feel that way anymore.”

When you finally spoke, your voice sounded almost whispery and gentle. He couldn’t help but lift his gaze from the floor to you, feeling how his body relaxed just a bit with the soft sound of your voice.

“No, no. I still want to talk to you…if you’re my Spencer.”

“I am, all yours.” He replied with a smile.

[rafesfavbimbo]

Perfect Where Her Rival Fails.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Sofia’s Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Rafe thought Sofia would be the one to fix him.. that was until he met her best friend and became so much worse

A/n: Rafe and reader are NOT GOOD PEOPLE! But it was so hot to write. I find Sofia’s “I can fix him” vibe kinda lame. This is kinda long too ngl.. Descriptions of Sofia and Reader are for plot purpose only and to build differences

TW: CHEATING!!! Not on reader, Rafe cheats with reader. SMUT!!! Descriptions of immoral thinking

-

Rafe should feel ashamed. He should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire.

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. “Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. from the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned.

-

Sofia was nice. Sweet actually. She was all soft smiles and modest clothes. Sparkling eyes hiding behind wispy bangs. Voice of reason, the angel on his right shoulder. Mousy beauty, enticing in a plain jane way that is nice to admire and look at. She doesn’t stand out but she had caught his eye and he liked it. Different from snooty Kook girls and prettier than typical Pogue girls. She kept him calm, and pushed him to be better. She could change him; that was until he met her though.

Sofia’s best friend was everything she wasn’t. She was sweet as well, don’t get him wrong. But she had a fire in her eyes, a darkness waiting to be unleashed that he couldn’t help but feel would match perfectly with his. The devil on his left shoulder. She was stunning, the kind of stunning that turns heads and captivates. She was all flirty smiles and batting wispy lashes. Skimpy clothes, excessive jewelry and high heels always accessorizing her perfectly. Makeup always accentuating her enticing features.

Rafe still remembers when they met. He’d thrown a grand party, Kooks on every inch of his property buzzed and high. Some crossed and stumbling. An environment of chaos, fun chaos. He was sitting in his ‘VIP’ section with Barry. Doing lines and rolling a fat blunt to be passed between the two. Waiting for Sofia to arrive, remembering his earlier phone call with her. ‘Can I bring my best friend, she just moved in with me and it’ll be her first time on the island.’ To which Rafe replied mumbled a ‘sure, whatever.” The more the merrier right?

Oh and the more the merrier indeed. Because when Rafe laid his eyes on her for the first time he felt like he was starting the beginning of the rest of his life. Like a missing puzzle piece fit in perfectly that he didn’t even know was missing.

“Y/n this is Rafe,” smiles Sofia, putting a name to the beauty standing before him, “Rafe, this is y/n, my best friend,” boasted Sofia with a bashful smile and proud eyes. A manicured hand reaches out to him, “it’s so nice to meet you. Sofia’s always talking about you.” Pretty lips spread, exposing pearly whites and when he looks into her eyes he can see the same lust swirling around them that is most definitely sitting in his. Rafe extends his hand, immediately engulfing hers as their eyes lock and his lips spread in a small side smile with a “likewise.” Holding onto the moment till a soft voice breaks the tension, “y/n do you want anything to drink?”

They both dropped each other’s hands quickly. The tension building between them snuffing out as they turn to Sofia as she looks at them with an unassuming smile. “Oh…yes! sure! What is there?” replies y/n, turning her attention to her best friend and giving Rafe the opportunity to slyly run his gaze down her figure. Taking in the skimpy clothing accentuating it perfectly and pretty pedicured feet in heels. A stark difference to the dress Sofia was wearing that landed right above her knees, the V on the chest only exposing her collar bones. Feet sat in white sneakers. “I’m not sure…Rafe?” Sofia broke his trance, turning to him as he immediately locked eyes with hers. “What happened?” he replies, having not paid attention to anything they were taking about. Way too entranced by the beauty on display in front of him.

“Y/n asked what do you have to drink” said Sofia with a small smile. And it almost made him feel guilty at having checked out his girlfriend’s best friend right in front of her. Almost. “Uh yeah.. anything really. I’m sure I have it, what’s your poison?” he spoke to y/n, giving her a warm smile as he prepared to make a mental note of what she likes. “Vodka.” she replies back, returning his warm smile with one of her own. Rafe goes to reply when a familiar accent chimes in.

“How about I show you where it’s at doll? Give these two lovebirds a chance to be alone.” drawls Barry. Rafe snaps his head toward him, eyes darkening and lips pursing in an unamused scowl. The drug dealer making eye contact with the beauty in front of them, small smirk on his lips as lust swirls around his eyes. Rafe couldn’t blame him but he sure as hell wanted to pop him right in the face. “M’Barry,” he reaches his hand out to her, Rafe’s eyes following her pretty hand slide into Barry’s calloused grip. “I’m a business associate of Rafe’s” he says slyly, “guess you could say we’re friends too.” He finished with a smile, gold tooth glistening.

“Nice to meet you,” y/n replies offering him a small smile. “Um, yeah sure. That sounds good.” she replied to Barry’s earlier question. Shyly glancing once at Rafe, then at Sofia. Barry getting up and taking the hand in his to guide her along with him. Turning his head back to Rafe with a knowing smirk as Sofia takes her position next to Rafe, nuzzling into his side with a pleased smile. It would normally be welcomed by him, thick arm wrapped around her shoulder. But now he does it reluctantly, tips of his ears burning with heat and chest tightening. Jealousy swirling in his stomach, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes burn holes into the pair walking away. Watching as y/n follows Barry’s lead, head turning back to look over at the couple. Her eyes landing on Sofia who’s nuzzling his cheek and kissing it with soft pecks. He can see them darken as she moves her eyes to his and catches them already on hers. The pair staring into each other before she turns around and lets Barry lead her away. Rafe’s gaze can’t help but fall to her cute butt popping out enticingly from the mini skirt she was wearing. The clack of her heels furthering with each step.

“I think Barry likes her,” giggles Sofia. The statement making his body burn and the hand not wrapped around her shoulder clench. A small hum coming from his mouth and all he’s thinking is that he’ll be damned if he lets Barry sweep away something he’s already planning on making his.

-

After that eventful night. Rafe makes it a point to be around y/n as much as possible. Whether from suggesting he and Sofia ��stay in’ at her small place with a ‘let’s invite y/n to watch a movie’ or ‘don’t feel like being around Figure 8, mind if I hang here?’ Each and every time, making up one excuse after the other to reside in the habitat where his prey lies in. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim his catch.

If he thought style-wise they were different. It’s only confirmed by the undeniable difference in their shared home. Elements placed by both of them in the space contrasting starkly. Sofia’s bedroom was nice. Clean and always well kept. Neutral, earthy tones and the definition of minimalistic. Clothes organized neatly and folded perfectly in her dresser, and hung up in her small closet. A few pairs of shoes lined up neatly under the hanging clothes. Her room smelled like clean laundry and the ocean breeze. Her bed with a basic black duvet and primped white, cotton sheets always fresh. Smelling of her whenever they’re rolling around, tangled together.

Whereas, y/n’s space was the epitome of girly-girl. Clean but an organized clutter of cute trinkets and decorations. Clothes and lingerie on a rack next to her vanity because the small closet couldn’t fit all her clothes. Heels lined up against the wall, white and black leopard print bedding with satin pink sheets, full of fluffy pillows. Her vanity is orgqnized but full of makeup, and products that she rummages through on her day to day. Jewelry sprawled all over her night stand. All things maximalism. Which he was only able to see after sneaking out of Sofia’s bedroom one night while she slept soundly and stalking over to the other beauty’s bedroom to satiate his need to know more about her. Pressing the door open lightly and watching as she sleeps with pouted lips in her array of pillows and satin sheets. The sweet aroma of Vanilla filling his senses. And lulling him to sleep after he gets back into bed with Sofia, dreaming of the girl down the hall.

Even in their shared bathroom, the pink loofah and sparkly decorations contrasting to Sofia’s white loofah and minimal decorating. And sometimes when Rafe is desperate he pops open her expensive Vanilla-scented shampoo and inhales deeply to consume just a piece of her, so different from the fresh-soap smell of Sofia’s. God and don’t get him started on the loungewear.

Sofia preferred comfort and modesty. She had a cute body that hid under baggy sweats, yoga pants, gym shorts and oversized sweaters or shirts. Maybe even some of his shirts here and there. Rafe liked it don’t get him wrong, it’s cute and she feels comfortable. But when he saw y/n’s loungewear, he didn’t know how he could ever accept anything less. Micro sleep shorts in an array of different pinks, black, grey, whites. Low-rise and always risen up, stuck inbetween her cute butt, giving him a good view of those pretty legs and that gorgeous tummy. Tiny tank tops, shirts that exposed her pretty midriff and so tight on the chest he could always see her nipples poking through. Fluffy pink slippers or cute leg-warmers and fluffy socks on her feet. Thought he prefers when she’s barefoot because then he can see her pretty pedicured toes that he imagines pressing kisses onto.

Rafe wasn’t delusional. Well, he was. But not about this, no way. When he’d first started infiltrating their space, making himself a consistent figure he’d made sure he was extra observant and helpful. In guise of being a good boyfriend to Sofia ‘it’s so sweet that you’re being so nice to her, I know she really appreciates it. The move was hard.’ To which Rafe replied with ‘do it all for you baby.’ A bold-faced lie. He does it because he wants to, he wants to know everything about her. Take care of her. He knows that her and Sofia aren’t rolling in dough the way he is. Especially with her struggling to get a job after he made sure to put in a word not to hire her at the country club with Sofia. Coming up with some excuse that she’s got no work ethic; in reality it’s just him not wanting her to work around other men. Or work in general, she’s far too precious for that. He knows she’s a girl who deserves nice things and gestures. A girl he wants to provide for. And he also knows that the more he provides, he can basically Pavlov her. Make her depend on him and keep a smile on that pretty face he wants to press kisses all over.

So it started with simple things. Foods and snacks she likes; asking Sofia what she prefers to nosh on. To which she happily replied giving him a good list, and he made sure to get Sofia something too. Not to raise suspicion. It made his chest warm when they’d have a movie night, another insistent ‘let’s invite y/n.’ Paying more attention to how she happily snacked on the food he provided, giving him thanks and a shy hug. Offering him some every few minutes while he replied with soft, “m’okay, enjoy it. It’s all for you.” Neither her and Sofia realizing how deep that sentiment actually was.

But then it began escalating… they started hanging out more. Sofia giving Rafe a spare key to let himself into their home since he was there so often, and he took full advantage. Letting himself in when he knew Sofia wasn’t there; insisting on inserting himself into y/n’s life and heart. They spent so much time together; getting to know each other. Rafe becoming a consistent figure in her life; making himself her whole world. Slowly but surely infiltrating and separating her away from Sofia as he reeled her closer to him. Even going as far to find solace in her company when he and Sofia fought; not letting her know he began each and every one to slowly but surely push her away. Making sure Sofia was never there as he forced himself into her best friend’s life.

Sofia had picked up more shifts at the Country Club; making her presence more sparse as she noticed distance from her best friend and her boyfriend. Losing herself in work to not think about the dread building in her chest and the suspicions building in her mind. As for Rafe, it was another normal day of pushing himself into y/n’s life and going to her shared home with Sofia. Which has been almost every day of the week when he wasn’t busy doing business with Barry or making time for Sofia as to not raise suspicion. And today he brought breakfast, setting it out on their small kitchen island. One thing on his mind that today was the day. He was in the middle of setting up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen from the small hallway.

“Rafe?” questioned a meek voice; gritty with sleep and sounding oh-so precious. He immediately turns around with a warm smile, running his eyes over her scantily clad figure and down to her pretty toes on display. “Good morning,” he said in a slow drawl, taking in the way her thighs clenched together subtly at that. His warm smile slipping into that familiar smirk. “I brought breakfast, thought we could spend some time together and go to the mainland today to show you around.” He continued, keeping his eyes on her as her gaze moved to the food set out on the island. Shuffling over and rubbing the sleep out of her pretty eyes.

“You got all this .. for me?” she spoke softly, gazing up at his towering figure with soft doe-eyes. Lips frowning in a slight pout that he wanted to kiss away. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He raised a strong hand to grip her chin and run the tip of his thumb slightly over the bottom of her lower lip. Moving his gaze from her eyes to her lips, back to her eyes, “just for you,” he whispered lowly. Watching as she kept staring into his eyes and leaning her body into him slowly. He very much liked that, giving her chin a quick pinch before he pulled away. Turning to grab a glass of orange juice and setting it down in front of the plate he set out for her. Watching as she moved to sit in front of it; eyes dashing between the arranged food. “Eat whatever you want, need that tummy full for today.” He spread his hands on the island, holding his body up as he leaned over and watched as she began adding pieces of her desired choice of food all over the plate. A satisfied hum coming from her as her eyes closed at the taste.

“What do you mean we’re going to the mainland? Why? Without Sofia too?” she questioned after she finished chewing; taking a sip of the orange juice he set out for her while keeping eye contact. “Thought I could show you around, I had nothing to do today and thought it would be nice to take you out so you’re not cooped up in here all day while Sofia’s working.” He said with his usual charm; popping a grape into his mouth and biting into it with a harsh crunch. Watching as she nodded her head in understanding. “After you eat, go get ready and put on something pretty. It’ll be hot today so be sure to dress for it. But make sure it’s something nice, taking you out for a nice lunch.” He continued. Praying she put on one of those cute, short sundresses or mini skirts she’s so known for wearing. He continued to munch on small pieces of fruit while she finished her breakfast. Taking her plate when she finished and giving her a dismissive wave; signaling to her to begin getting ready.

He watched as she happily skipped away, his eyes lowering to her cute butt as if jiggled with her movements. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it; too caught up in his dirty thoughts when he heard a, “can I wear heels?” He immediately popped his eyes back to her face, which is turned around to look at him. Back still facing him. “If they’re comfortable enough, absolutely.” He smiled, watching as she nodded with a smile and continued back to her room as Rafe finished cleaning up and sat onto the small couch. Head leaning back onto it and staring onto the ceiling with a devious grin of all the things he planned to do today. Dozing off slightly as he waited for her to get ready.

“Rafe,” a slight nudge to his shoulder. “Raaaaafe,” drawled out the prettiest voice; a soft hand coming to cup his cheek lightly and caress it as that sweet voice whispered another soft “wake up Rafe, m’ready to go.” She said delicately with excitement in her voice. Rafe’s eyes opening up from dreamland to look at the absolute goddess in front of him. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she stepped back in front of him. When his vision came back into focus he couldn’t help but run his gaze over her figure. His heart beating in his chest and his pants feeling tighter by the second as her took in the little number on her gorgeous body. Down to the heels on her feet showing off those pretty toes. Her hair done up a a messy up-do with wisp framing her face perfectly. Makeup dewy and fresh, making her look so ethereal and pretty lips slathered in a gloss he wants to kiss away. Silver hoops sitting in her pretty ears.

“You like it?” she asked, giving him twirl. The expanse of her pretty back showing. The sheen material giving him a view of the pink thong nestled inbetween the cute butt he’s been dreaming of marking with his teeth. Watching as her front view came into view, his eyes immediately drawn to the low V and the way her pretty tits looked so erotic hidden between a thin layer of sheen material. Her nipples poking through and her cleavage sitting so nicely.

He let out a low, soft whistle; his gaze which was leaving no inch of her body undiscovered looks back up to her beautiful face. Her eyes already on him through wispy lashes that made them looks so flirty and alluring. An amused smile on her face as he stated, “you look like you should be on the cover of a magazine. Beautiful. You look beautiful. You are so beautiful.” With full sincerity, his eyes holding onto hers to convey all the emotions and want he’s been holding back. He rose up slightly, hand holding out for hers as she placed hers into his. His large grip immediately engulfing her pretty hand as he began dragging her to the front door. “We’re gonna have a ball, believe that.” He looked back at her with a smirk; her head tilting back to meet his gaze and a small giggle falling from her lips as she let him lead her away.

-

Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone so badly in his life, not even Sofia. After they left the girls’ small house, taking his truck to which he boldly put his hand on her thigh while she sat in his passenger seat; feeling it tense. Testing the waters and feeling satisfied as she relaxed into his touch; thighs slightly spreading to which he gave a small squeeze in approval. His hand caressing her smooth skin the whole way to there. He his head to the side to look at her through his peripheral vision to see her looking out the window, biting those pretty lips and closing her eyes when he would dare to raise his hand a bit higher. Bringing it back to its original spot in a way to tease her every-time, having expected her to push him away. Tell him he’s crossing a boundary, but she never did. Not even when her helped her off the truck, his hand pulling her into his side with it running down her smooth back to sit right above her butt. Not even when he stood behind her on the ferry; his body pressed into hers and arms spread out onto the railing to cage her in as she watched the water with a lip bite and excitement in her eyes. Leaning her head back a bit to expose her neck to him, his immediate response to ghost his lips up her neck and take in her Vanilla scent that’s been driving him crazy. Wanting to lick her smooth skin but refraining, just hovering his face over where he wants to mark her up.

They spent the whole day wrapped up in each other. Rafe had planned on taking her shopping, wanting to spoil her then quickly realizing he didn’t have his truck to hold the influx of items he’s sure she would love to have. Settling for taking her to a jewelry shop, buying her an 18k white gold-diamond necklace that had her eyes widening and a smile spreading on her pretty face. Words of “no Rafe I couldn’t it’s too much,” to, “what about Sofia, wouldn’t you want to get this for her?” Which he quickly shut down with a firm, “Sofia isn’t the kind of girl you buy such pretty, expensive things for, beautiful. You know this isn’t her thing.” His words having two meanings. Watching as she bit her lip in consideration at them, knowing how non-flashy her best friend was and how intimate this gesture was. Ultimately accepting the expensive gift he paid a pretty penny for and letting him clip it onto her neck with a “only girls like you deserve such nice things.” Admiring how it glistened beautifully against her flawless skin-tone. Hoping by tonight that it’s all she’s got on besides the heels on her pretty feet.

After that he took her to his promised lunch, watching as she admired herself in any reflection they walked past to see the diamonds glistening against her. Giddy with happiness and wondering how she could re-pay his kindness. Envy building in her stomach that someone as non-materialistic and plain as her best friend ended up with such a pretty boyfriend whose pockets were loaded. They both sat and chatted over expensive lobster and glasses of Dom Périgon; him feeding her pieces of her food and watching as her lips wrapped around the fork. Praying that he would get to feel them wrapped around his solid cock. His restraint for her slowly dwindling the more they got drunk off champagne.

And fuck -was he glad he splurged on good drinking. Watching as she became more loose, more touchy. Pretty eyes hazing over from the bubbly running through her. Those wispy lashes batting at him as she bit her lip; eyeing him with pure lust. It’s when he felt her right foot begin to slide up the inner-side of his right leg did he know; he had her. Leaning back in his chair slightly and widening his legs to give her more access. The two staring into each other eye’s, lust and intense want swirling around as she slid her foot higher. Eventually reaching his thigh and then the prominent bulge in his dark grey slacks. Rafe clenching his fist and huffing from his nostrils when she begin pressing her toes into it sensually. Massaging him with them as she bit her lip seductively and kept eye contact. Rafe let her tease him till he couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting up from his chair abruptly and tossing down a few hundred dollar bills onto the table before grabbing her by her upper arm. Giving her a chance to put her heel back onto her foot before dragging her out of the restaurant and pinning her against the wall of the alley right next to it. Breathing deeply and watching as she stared into his eyes with that doe-eyed expression that makes him want to ruin her. Pressing his body against hers, his hands spread out on both sides of her head and pushing his face till they were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingling as their breathing became harsher, the restraint between both of them breaking as their need for each other began to win.

“You’ve been driving me crazy. From the moment I saw you; I knew I needed you.” Rafe said lowly, his voice thick with desire as he broke the silence. Watching as she pondered his words, then continuing, “I’m gonna take you home, back to Tannyhill.” He whispered lowly, pushing his head closer to her and brushing his lips against hers as he spoke of everything he planned to do. “M’gonna slip this sexy little dress off and leave you in nothing but those sexy heels and that necklace I bought you.” He drawled, feeling her press closer into him. Her hands that were pressed by her side now sliding up his lower back and up to his shoulders as she held onto him; listening to his every word. “Then m’gonna take what I’ve been waiting too all damn day. Ever since I met you actually. I’m marking my claim on you tonight, and you’re gonna let me because I know you want me as bad as I want you. Know you need me baby, because I need you too.” With that he pressed his lips onto hers. The pair making out harshly with moans and whines falling from her pretty lips into his mouth; harsh groans and breathes falling from his into hers. Their teeth clacking and tongues fighting for dominance as they consumed each other. Any thought of how this might hurt Sofia quickly slipping from their minds. It felt right, right in a way that he didn’t feel with Sofia. Right in a way that she knew any friendship with Sofia wasn’t worth the feelings he gave her.

The pair made out harshly, hands running all over each other as they took each other in. Weeks of tension build up, exploding passionately between them. The sun casting an orange haze over the environment as it slowly went down. Her makeup now ruined and pouty lips swollen. Rafe’s right hand snaking into her pretty up-do and gripping her hair, tugging harshly to expose her neck. Pressing kisses and marking her as she spoke a soft inquiring, “What about Sofia?” Making Rafe’s incessant kissing come to a halt, his head lifting away from her neck as he moved his left hand to cup her cheek; not bothering to remove the hand tangled in her messed up hair. His eyes caught her own, watching as guilt built up in them. Ready to reassure and squash away those feelings because no way was he gonna let Sofia get in between them now. Not anymore than she already has.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said slowly. Watching as she opened her lips to retaliate and immediately shushing her. “Hey -no. Listen..” he continued, rubbing his thumb soothingly on her cheek. “What she means to me is nothing compared to the feelings I’ve developed for you. I need you y/n; it’s driving me insane. I know deep inside me that this feeling I have for you isn’t anything simple.” He spoke seriously, spilling his thoughts to her. Her eyes tearing with emotion as he continued, “and I won’t try to figure it out or stop it. Some things are meant to happen; we’re one of those things. You and me. What we can have together is way too good to give it up for a girl I know I don’t want a future with, but you? We can build a life together. I want to build a life with you. You deserve to be taken care of, provided for. Treated and loved like the goddamn goddess you are. And I wanna give all of that to you baby, wanna give you everything. All of me; I wanna be yours. It’s been weeks of holding myself back to finally make this moment happen and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. Especially not her.” he spoke. Soft tears running down her smooth cheeks that he kissed away; cradling her to him. “It’s me and you baby; no one else. Not even Sofia.” He finished, watching the hesitation and guilt wash away in her eyes as she submitted herself to him. Removing her arms from being wrapped up his back to wrap them around his neck. Pushing her lips onto his and kissing him passionately as Rafe immediately welcomed it. Wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body tightly against his.

“Take me home Rafe,” she whispered when she pulled back. “Take me home and make me yours, wanna be all yours too.” She said against his lips, causing him to groan deeply and recapture her lips with his passionately before pulling her away. Scooping her in his arms and dragging her to the ferry bridal style as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. The two knowing this was the beginning of a passionate, twisted love story. Sofia be damned.

-

When they made it back to Tannyhill, it’s like a veil lifted over them. Encasing them in their own little world of passion and burning desire. Giggling into each other’s mouths as her heels clacked against the floors of Tannyhill, Rafe consuming her. He took the sheen material sitting over her left shoulder and slipped it off; watching as it fell off her shoulder erotically. The smooth skin of her shoulder, arm and now her left breast being exposed to his eyes without a layer in between. He immediately swiped the right sleeve, the flowy material sliding off with ease. The entire dress dropping as she was left standing in her matching pink thong that came with the dress. Plump tits and gorgeous body on full display for his eyes only. The faux-diamonds on her heels glistening and the real diamonds on her neck shining even brighter. Her flawless skin-tone glowing from the lotion she slathered all over it while getting ready and sparkling from the body glitter she applied to add to her appeal.

Rafe’s gaze ran over the entirety of her body. His eyes full of burning want and need for her. Wanting to ravage and defile her; looking at her with the same hunger a predator looks at its prey. He was gonna make sure she never wanted anyone other than him. He was gonna make sure she belonged to him in her entirety from body to heart and soul. He was gonna make her the queen of his mansion and Kildare. Ruling alongside him in a way Sofia never could. A placeholder and stepping stone for him to find the one he truly wanted. He almost felt bad about Sofia’s role in this situation; feeling like he only met her to be able to meet the love of his life. But his desire for the beauty standing in from of him squashed any feelings that weren’t the ones he had for her.

Rafe immediately grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as her shocked gasp turned into realizing giggles. Stomping his way upstairs and smacking her butt; turning his head to bite into it making her squeal as he smirked in satisfaction. Finally reaching his room -their room. Shoving the door open and walking to his bed, tossing her on it roughly as she bounced with delirious girly giggles. Immediately spreading her legs and bringing her pretty manicured hands to massage her beautiful tits. Her eyes full of want and need as she watched him hastily pull his clothing off his body. His belt buckle hitting the floor with a thunk as he pulled every last piece of clothing off.

Once Rafe was fully bare, his hard cock up-right and bobbing with his movements as he moved onto the bed on his knees. Slotting himself between her open legs, his big hands on both sides of her head and pressing his body to hers till they were skin to skin. Her tits pressed tightly to his chest; feeling as she began to whine her hips under him after feeling his hard cock rest itself on her covered pussy. Her hands immediately ran up the huge expanse of his back; feeling his smooth skin under her them as he kissed her roughly. Dominating her mouth immediately, strings of spit exchanging between their messy movements. Rafe beginning to grind his hips to match the rhythm of hers. His cock rubbing on her thong-covered pussy as they made out.

“Needed this so bad. Needed you,” he pressed another fervid kiss to her swollen lips covered in their shared spit. Rafe leaned his weight onto his left hand next to her head, pushing his upper body up as his knees bent to stabilize himself. Her thighs draped over his as he spread them wide with his position. Right hand reaching in between them and moving her soaked through thong to the side. Exposing her perfect cunt to him as he groaned deep in his chest at the sight. “So fucking wet for me huh, princess?” He inquired, clearly already knowing the answer. Rubbing his fingers through the silky folds of perfect pussy. Her legs immediately spreading wider as she whispered, “have been since the moment I met you.” Admitting that she’s needed him just as badly he needed her. Her words sexual but the emotion in her eyes sentimental.

Rafe smiled warmly at her, his eyes portraying the same emotion as he leaned down to get her a quick peck. Using his right hand to bring his leaking tip to her entrance dripping with her arousal. Sliding his tip against her hole before he slid it up to her clit, circling the swollen bud a couple times before guiding his tip back to her entrance. He popped it in, an airy gasp falling from her lips as a deep moan fell from his. He pushed slowly, breaking her cunt in around his thick cock, her legs beginning to tremble. Rafe pushed in till he was he was kissing her cervix, pressing soothing kisses all over her face as she whimpered and whine at the stretch. His big body pinning hers to the bed; chest pressed together while his thighs spread hers open. He brought his right hand back next to her head, beginning to grind slowly to get her use to the feeling of him breaking her open. Ruining her for everyone else but him.

“Mhmmm… s’fucking tight baby fuuuuck,” he emphasized the last word with a drawn out groan. Pushing his head into her neck that was exposed to him as she turned her head to the side to whimper about his deep grinding. Pressing kisses all over it and licking up her neck before sinking his teeth in harshly. Grinning into her skin when she cried out, hips beginning to match the rhythm of his as he stretched her to the brim. Rafe marking her neck with love bites as a declaration of his ownership over her. He brought his lips to her left ear, licking her lobe before giving it a light bite and then whispering, “can’t fucking wait anymore, m’taking what I fucking want, alright?” Beginning to snap his hips into her at a brutalizing pace. Her whimpers quickly turning into loud whines and cries, tears building up her in her pretty eyes and ruining her makeup.

“Yeah…that’s it,” Rafe groaned deeply before continuing, “cry for me baby, get use to the rest of your life. M’gonna fuck this sloppy little hole till my dick is imprinted into you.” He finished, grabbing her arms that were now flailing around to grasp onto something from his harsh pounding. Holding her wrist in his large left hand, using it as leverage to pound into her harder. A wicked smile on his face as he took what he wanted. “Never gonna leave you alone, keeping you next to me for the rest of my damn life. Fuck Sofia, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for right here -ah fuck!” He spoke harshly, voice gritty with desire and affected by his efforts at destroying her for any other man besides him. He meant it when he said he was going to fuck his print into her. “It’s me and you baby, remember that.” He reminded her, “just me n’you.”

-

They’d been going at it for hours; taking each other apart in the most primal way. Rafe fucked her stupid till she passed out. Her heels long gone and thong ripped as he bent her into every position impossible; stretching her open and abusing her sopping hole with his fingers, tongue and cock. Whispering phrases of “that’s my good little cumslut. Doesn’t even care that she’s fucking over her best friend. As long as she gets daddy’s dick breaking her open, huh?” He spoke menacingly, his thick bicep wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her from behind. Face buried in her hair as she dug her manicured nails into his forearm. Her left arm bent back and held against her lower back with rafe’s left hand. Choked gasp of “yes daddy” and “just for you” falling from her swollen pout. Leaving Rafe satisfied as he replied a hushed “that’s right baby, ain’t gotta worry bout a damn thing aside from taking this dick.” Or “Got the sheets fucking soaked, maybe I should fuck Sofia one last time and press her face into the mattress so she can taste what real top-tier pussy tastes like.” His back against the pillows, her back pressed to his firm chest. Large hands hooked under her thighs and spreading her out while he bucked up with non-stop harsh strokes into her already filled and leaking pussy. Their mixed arousal dripping all over his balls as she had her arms laid next to his head; letting him take whatever he wanted. Crying out “no! mine!” when he dared even teased her with the thought of fucking Sofia again after this. Making Rafe chuckle as he spoke out a “that’s right baby, m’all yours. Just yours.”

After so many hours of fucking her stupid, she passed out immediately after the last round. Rafe holding her shaking body to his, her face pressed into his neck. His right arm under her head as his left caressed her hair; keeping her safe in dreamland while they lay on their sides. Kissing her hair every so often the hour she was passed out. He was about ready to get up and go to the restroom; attempting to slowly remove her right arm wrapped around his waist when he heard her whine. Her eyes blinking open, wispy lashes clumped together from the tears of passion he caused. “Don’t leave me,” she pouted, regaining strength to pull him back into her. The action causing a warm feeling to spread through his body like wildfire. He adored that she wanted him just as bad.

“Gotta clean you up m’love.” He whispered against her lips after pressing a soft kiss to them to soothe her. Watching her look at him with sleepy eyes; lust beginning to swirl in them again. “Nuh-uh,” she replied, pressing her right hand to his chest to press him into the mattress flat on his back. Straddling his body immediately, her hands on both sides of his head as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her leaking pussy settled over his cock, pressing down against it. Rafe immediately relaxing into the mattress and shuffling slightly to get into a more comfortable position in middle of the bed. When they pulled back he brought his right hand to cup her left cheek, running his thumb over it soothingly as they held the silence, staring into each other’s eyes. “What do you want, hm?” He questioned, though he already knew the answer. “If you want something, take it. I know I did.” Smiling as he watched her lift herself up on her knees slightly, hand reaching between them. She gripped his already hard cock in her soft hand, teasing his tip against her clit making them both lightly moan. She didn’t do it for too long, already way too built up after weeks of tension between them. Needing him again even after the hours of sex he put her through already. She brought him to her soaked entrance, popping his tip in as she watched his face. His brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her cute cunt swallow him.

Rafe immediately put his hands on her hips and positions his legs. Ready to immediately begin giving it to her and giving her a couple harsh thrust before her dainty hands smacked onto his chest and pushed him back into the sheets, shaking her head side to side to say no. Rafe’s brows furrowed with confusion his lips opening to say something before she interrupted his questioning with, “wanna take care of you daddy. Wanna be good for you.” Rafe’s body immediately relaxing as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Well alright,” he smacked her left ass cheek with his right hand; then removing both his hands from her hips and laying them crossed behind his head. Ready to let her do all the work. “Get to it princess; daddy’s got a fat load waiting for you.”

Her hips began grinding back and forth, rubbing her overstimulated clit across the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Hands pressed into his chest and whines falling from her lips as she worked herself into it. Rafe biting his lip while darting his eyes between her body grinding against him and to her pretty face contorting in pleasure. When she finally felt ready she removed her hands from his chest; reaching her hands behind her to stabilize herself on his strong thighs. Wet plops of their arousal and skin smacking as she began bouncing herself up and down. Working herself on his dick as she cried out his name; Rafe entranced by the goddess on top of him. He didn’t know where to look, from his dick breaking in her pussy to her beautiful body moving sensually to that gorgeous face with messy makeup and swollen lips. He clenched his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and feelings running through him; head turning to the left as she leaned down to start kissing and sucking marks into him the way he did her. When he opens his hazy eyes just a bit that’s when he sees it …

A picture of him and Sofia on his nightstand. Her face smiling brightly as she looked so happy. Half his face hidden in her hair as he gave a soft smile to the camera. A moment in time at the beginning of their relationship when Rafe felt like he could actually see himself building something long term; feeling that Sofia could fix him. A feeling that was now long gone. Rafe should feel ashamed; he should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good. He turns back to the one he truly wants and doesn’t regret his actions in the slightest. This was his woman.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire. Sex was never this good with Sofia, she wasn’t wild. Wasn’t adventurous, as plain in bed as she was outside. She never made his body burn ablaze or his nerves go haywire. She never consumed his heart, body and soul the way the girl on top of him does. Even with Sofia he felt something incomplete inside him. He didn’t know what he was missing to be found it. Till he found her …

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis again. The overwhelming feeling of his tip hitting her cervix becoming too much. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. He’d hurt Sofia again and again if it meant having this sight in front of him and these feelings running through him all the time.

“Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. From the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned. Sofia would be okay, eventually. But he wouldn’t if couldn’t have his girl, he’d rather crush Sofia’s soul then let anything get inbetween them. Any softness he felt for her fading away quickly at the thought of her becoming an obstacle between them.

“Dadddyyy,” she whined into his mouth when his hips began bucking up. He took over control, his need to reassert dominance overtaking him. He was gonna make sure she would never leave him. She was stuck here with him and he was going to ensure it in anyway possible. Little ‘uh uh uh uh’s’ falling from her as he pounded up into her; his legs tense with stabilizing his movements. His right hand came to the back of her head to keep her lips pressed to his. Hips jackhammering into her as she took everything he gave her. Her arms beginning to flail around again to stabilize herself until he grabbed them in his left hand and pinned them to her back with her wrist in his large hand. He pulled his lips back, a string of spit connecting his to hers as she whined and tried to reconnect them. Rafe shook his head and nudged her nose with his as he spoke against her mouth. “Take it m’love, daddy needs you to take it. Need you to know you’re never gonna leave me. We’re in this together. You n’me.” Watching as her eyes looked into his with full sincerity as she nodded and choked out “you n’me. Don’t wanna leave you daddy. Never.” With that Rafe pressed his hips up on more time, groaning out her name repeatedly. His cock all the way inside her and tip kissing her cervix as ropes of cum dribbled out and filled her up for the what feels like the millionth time that night. His orgasm triggering her own as her legs shook in their straddling position; crying out into his mouth as she squirted around him again.

Rafe fell back into the mattress, her collapsing on top of him as they both were breathing harshly to catch their breathes. Rafe’s right hand came up to rub her back soothingly as she came down from the high he gave her; soft little cries leaving her that turned into almost inaudible whimpers. The two so wrapped in each other and the aftermath of their love-making that they didn’t even hear the harsh steps stomping up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom.

When they’d gone out on their date, Rafe put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and ensured she did too. Not wanting any interruptions for their day together. And ever since then it hasn’t come off, the pair never realizing that Sofia was blowing up their phones with incessant text and calls. Questions of where they were, if they were together. Until she couldn’t handle it anymore and drove straight to Rafe’s in the middle of the night; praying the gut feeling she’s had for weeks wasn’t going to be confirmed tonight. Oh how she wishes she was wrong. She’d known for weeks, a gut feeling stabbing in her for so long. She’d been suspicious when Rafe had become so kind, tender to her best friend. Chalking it up to him wanting to make Sofia happy by being so welcoming and be a good boyfriend. When he started coming over everyday she was a little surprised, he usually called her over to Tannyhill. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the cut. When he began insisting on staying in for dates, always asking for y/n to intrude on them. It bothered her but she didn’t say anything, too worried about Rafe’s softness sizzling out and making her best friend feel bad. She was even hesitant to give him a key but did it anyway because she convinced herself she was being paranoid. ‘He’s finally man’ing up,’ she’d told herself. Only not knowing it wasn’t for her but her best friend.

She knew when Rafe became cold, distant. Starting fights over anything and everything; never wanting to talk it out and just leaving her wallowing in her own sadness. She knew when her best friend started acting the same, cold. Her distance deepening by the day. And when she came home one day to find them laughing together and eyes sparkling at each other, not even noticing she walked in. The two chatting away on the couch. It pushed her to pick up more work, needing to numb the nagging feeling and ignore the suspicions growing in her mind. But she knew, a woman always knows. And she most definitely knew when she walked straight into Rafe’s house. The scrape of pink fabric laying at the bottom of the staircase, one she knew belonged to her best friend. Sofia knew yet she needed to see it, needed to finally know that she wasn’t feeling crazy. But nothing could have prepared her for shattering of her heart as she slammed Rafe’s bedroom door open. Two people she loved so much, wrapped around each other as they pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips. In their own world till she screamed out an “I knew it!” and only then did their veil lift.

Y/n and Rafe turned to look at Sofia standing at the entrance of the bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. Rafe was quick to act, turning his body along with y/n’s to shield her. His back turning to Sofia as y/n fell to the other side; her right leg wrapped around his waist as she looked at her best friend over Rafe’s shoulder. A scowl now etched on his face as he looked back at Sofia through a side eye, “yo! what the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed, as if Sofia was a stranger intruding on their intimate moment. As if she was never his girlfriend, as if she was never anything to him. Sofia’s teary eyes darted between Rafe’s scowling face, to her best friend. Oh her best friend, someone she’d know for so many years. Someone who was practically a sister to her, someone she let into her home and around her boyfriend. She trusted her. “How could you?” she spoke to y/n, the pain in her chest almost debilitating. “How-how could you?! I trusted you! I let you into my home! I let you around my boyfriend and this is how you repay me! BY FUCKING MY BOYFRIEND!” She screamed, overwhelming feelings of anger and despair radiating off of her. “You’re a fucking slut! A whore!,” she stepped forward more into the room ignoring the ‘hey!’ from Rafe as she continued, “I should have known. You always begged for attention, just look at the way you dress. You’re a stupid attention seeking whore!” She raged at her best friend whose eyes full of guilt now turned into equal rage.

Rafe went to open his mouth and defend his woman when y/n spoke up first, “save me the fucking pity party Sofia! You’re just a sad case of another girl getting way to ahead of herself because a cute guy finally gave her attention,” she retaliated. Sitting up now, not caring about her state of undress or the cum leaking down her thighs as she pushed herself up to her knees on the bed. Finger pointing at Sofia as Rafe’s eyes darted between the two girls. “You’ve always made me feel bad! Like i’m someone who needs to be fixed and is full of faults. Always telling me where I went wrong or what I’m not doing good enough. You act so high and fucking mighty all the time like you aren’t trying to compensate for your own inadequacies!” She yelled, rage flowing through her and continuing when Sofia went to open her mouth, “I’m sick of the patronization hidden behind care. I’m sick of you making me feel bad for who I am,” y/n stepped over Rafe’s legs to stand on the floor and face her ex-best friend. Stalking toward her, “you’re always trying to fix people to make up for your lack of personality. Like everyone is in the wrong for being themselves just bc you’re too pathetic to know who you are. I’m done letting you do it to me. And I won’t let you do it to him,” she screamed pointing at Rafe who was on his back and holding himself up on his forearms as he watched the two ex-friends at each other’s throat. Turned on and feeling satisfied that the kitty claws he’s been working so hard to expose are finally out. A sick smirk on his face as he stared at Sofia. “For months, you complained about him to me before I came here. How he was ‘unhinged’ and how you could help him. Make him better. And it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how wrong you were! Maybe he’s not perfect, maybe he’s rough and mean and fucked up! But that’s what makes him, him! And i love it! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I need to put on an act, like I need to be perfect. He loves me for who I am not what he feels he can make into and I feel the same about him. So maybe we’re fucked up! But at least we’re not a miserable cunt who’s hellbent on fixing people because she can’t fix herself.” Finished y/n, her arms crossed against her bare tits as she stared Sofia down whose tears were running down her cheeks, face red with emotion and chest heaving. To add to insult Rafe let out a low whistle at y/n’s words and a small chuckle with an “ouch.” Watching as Sofia’s eyes left her staring contest with her best friend to him, not making any effort to move from her spot.

“You can leave Sofia, we don’t want you here. Ever.” taunted y/n, turning on her heels to walk back to bed and climbing in it while Rafe shuffled over to the other-side. Right arm widening to encase her with it as his left forearm held him up. Immediately wrapping his arm around y/n as she got near, the two smashing their lips together with a passionate kiss to add salt to the wound. Not letting up until they heard footsteps stomping out of the room and down the hallway. Rafe pulling back with that sick smirk on his face as he yelled out for Sofia to hear “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Both of them turned to the doorway and listening as they heard her sobs deepening and steps become quicker. The glass door slamming shut and letting them know she’d left.

They turned to face each other with wicked smiles as they smashed their lips together, Rafe using the arm wrapped around her to push her body onto the mattress and press himself flush to her. “That was so fucking sexy, you mean it? You love me? Flaws and all?” he smiled into her lips, chest feeling warm with love as she giggled and nodded. Kissing him again before saying, “as long as you love mine.” Eyes staring into his for confirmation that he quickly gave her, “baby Imma love all of you for as long as you let me. I don’t want some faux-perfect bitch, I want my girl who’s freak matches mine.” Capturing her lips again and ready to go for another round. Grinding against her till she pulled back with worry in her eyes, “wait! what about my stuff she’s gonna wreck it!” y/n whined and kicked her leg into the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll replace it all and more.” He chucked and went to recapture her lips when she pushed against chest that slipped inbetween them, crying out a, “but Rafey some of that stuff is vintage! Irreplaceable!” Whining and pouting her lips as Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed both her hands in his large one, pinning them to the bed as he dominated her once more.

“Shuddup and let me love you. Such a brat. You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

A/N: Damn I almost feel bad for Sofia ngl. The way i described Sofia was just for plot purposes! I just feel like Rafe needs a bougie baddie idk! and I really think Sofia is boring!

[ghoul-bonez]

~I Love You, I Trust You, I See You~

(Ao’nung x Fem! Deaf! Sully! Reader)

Summary: When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was it’s because you couldn’t hear him.

Word count: 4.4k

Author’s note: This is the longest oneshot I’ve written at 4.4k words and 9 1/2 google docs pages… Sign language will be normal font, and bold & italics will be spoken, although I try my best to show which is going on.

~Masterlist~

I Love You, I Trust You, I See You

When people thought of the Sully family many thought of your siblings. They thought of Lo’ak who was always a troublemaker, causing chaos everywhere he went. They thought of Kiri who seemed so in tune with her surroundings that she might as well be Eywa herself. They thought of Tuk who was the youngest, still enamored by everyday life. They thought of Neteyam, a strong leader who would someday take on the role of Olo’eyktan after your father.

They never thought of you.

You who always seemed to be in your own little world. You who never had any friends. You who never talked. You who always seemed so attentive to the world around you, yet had no desire to join it.

When you were born after your twin Neteyam, a spike of fear had run through everyone in the room when you began to cry, but no sound came out. They feared you may not be breathing right, you may need your airways cleared. They feared something was wrong, and that was true.

When your parents or siblings thought about your family, they thought about you. They thought about how funny you were, always cracking jokes when there was a chance. They thought about how kind you were, taking a moment to check on everyone daily. They thought about how different you were than most.

They thought about you. You who couldn’t hear.

You always seemed to be in your own world, and that drew many away from you, they didn’t want to be friends with someone who they didn’t think was paying attention to them, and to be fair you weren’t paying attention to people most of the time. You preferred to direct your attention to the world around you, always keeping an eye out as you couldn’t hear danger coming.

When you had been caught by Quaritch and his men you had panicked, more than everyone else at least. You didn’t know what was going on, you didn’t know what they were saying, your lip reading was not dependable, and definitely not in english.

When your siblings arms were bound you couldn’t keep yourself calm, now you had no way of communicating, they couldn’t translate for you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes closed as tight as possible to try to calm yourself by blocking out the outside world.

When you felt your captor’s grip on your release your eyes shot open, looking around at the damage around you, multiple avatars dead on the ground. Then you ran, you ran faster than ever before in the first direction you saw.

You ran and ran, eyes trained on everything around you, and when you ran into someone and they grabbed you again it was like a shock. You let out a scream, the first noise anyone had ever heard you make. A noise nobody was aware you could make.

You turned to dead weight in an attempt to get out of their grasp, panic coursing through you again as your eyes couldn’t come into focus. However, the person dropped to the ground with you, pulling your face towards them and holding it still as you tried to thrash. Then they blew air into your face, and you realized you were safe.

When you were younger you would throw temper tantrums, as children do, where you would close your eyes to refuse to listen to your parents. Not being able to see them meant no sign language, which meant no having to listen to them. However your father found one thing always worked, blowing air on your face. Your eyes would shoot open, highly offended with your mouth dropped open, before you would sign at him, “Your breath is gross.” in retaliation.

You had never been more relieved for your dad’s stupid way of getting you to listen. Your eyes finally came into focus and you calmed down seeing his face, but that calm quickly turned into crying, sobbing. You couldn’t help but let out all of the pent up emotion inside of you, but eventually you calmed down and were able to stand back up, staggering your way home with the rest of your family.

Some time later when your parents had been arguing in your family kelku you hadn’t been paying attention as your siblings were, all huddled against the wall. You had been lost in your own world once again, not wanting to know what was being said as you were still processing what had happened earlier. You didn’t need anything on top of that as you feared it would make your careful stack of emotions you had constructed come tumbling down.

They had come tumbling down though as your parents announced you were moving, leaving. Leaving everything you had ever known, your home, your grandmother, the forest you loved so much. You couldn’t help it as you cried again, being held by your mother this time.

However as you thought about it you weren’t that sad. You had always liked the water, everyone not having to hear underwater made you feel more included, more like you belonged, and you had heard the Metkayina used sign language. Maybe this would be a chance to make friends for the first time in your life. Maybe you would be able to talk to people for once, nobody at home taking the time to learn American Sign Language, as your father had called it, like your family had.

One thing you hadn't taken into account was that they used a different version of sign language, but that had become very apparent when you first jumped into the water with Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo. They used signs you had never seen before, ones you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t help but feel a little beaten down at dinner, staying quieter than usual, not signing as much.

Afterwards your dad had asked you to step outside, waving a hand towards you as he exited the marui.

He sat down on the pathway, and you knew he expected you to join him, so you did. You sat next to him with your feet dangling in the water, looking out towards the horizon, refusing to look at him so you didn't have to have a conversation.

That didn’t last long though as he poked you in the arm, causing you to look at him offended, mouth open and eyebrows raised. He took this as his chance to speak, “You okay, kid?” He signed.

You sighed deeply, fidgeting with your hands before signing, “I’m okay, dad.”

You could tell he didn’t believe you, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re less talkative. What’s wrong?” He signed, proving he didn’t think you were telling the truth.

A frown came to your face, feeling like it was permanently there after the past few days or so, but you continued, “I’m disappointed.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise and confusion on his face, “About what?”

You looked away from his face, instead choosing to watch his hands, you didn’t want to see the pity on his face, “We don’t speak the same language. I can’t communicate. Everyone else can at least talk to each other.”

His face softened, but you didn’t see it, “It’ll be okay. You’re a fast learner, so you will learn their language quickly, then you can make friends. If anyone actually wants to be your friend.” He meant it playfully, and you saw him laugh, so jammed your elbow in his ribs.

Then the conversation was over, your mom poking her head out of the doorway and saying something to your dad. He just stood up and gave you a look like he was asking, “You good?” and you nodded, “Yes.” back in return.

After your father’s words of encouragement you decided to work harder, learn faster, determined to be able to communicate with the people around you, and a few weeks later you were excelling whereas your siblings were still struggling. They were caught up on the differences of Metkayina sign language versus ASL but you had grasped that there weren’t differences, or similarities, and you would just be learning from scratch.

Even though you were doing well at it, working your way towards being fluent, you were worried about talking to the people, mostly because of one person in particular, Ao’nung. It was as if Ao'nung was determined to ruin your siblings' lives, and yours, but you didn’t know that.

You had seen Ao’nung’s attempts to cause hell for your siblings, nagging at them, laughing at them, and even trying to start fights, with Lo’ak in particular. Him messing with your siblings made you frustrated, but you weren’t aware of the taunts meant to make you upset, and laughing that was meant to make you feel like a target coming towards you from a distance.

The bullying towards your siblings had become more and more frustrating and you had begun showing your anger at home, being rougher with things than usual, and not wanting to go outside of the shared family marui.

It had been peaceful while you and your mom had been working on dinner, but she noticed you seemed to be far off, handling the food with rougher hands, “Are you okay, (Y/n).” Neytiri signed as you placed another fish over the fire.

You rolled your eyes at her, upset she was even insinuating something was wrong. In reality there was, but you didn’t want to admit that, “Yes mama, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She had asked back, concern on her face as she looked at you closely.

You signed, “Yes.” Trying to end the conversation, but you knew she would just keep pushing.

You saw your mom think for a moment, her face scrunching up in concentration, “Well I am not.”

You frowned more, once again feeling like it had always been there since you left the forest, “Not what?”

She was frowning too now, “I’m not sure you’re fine. I see you isolating yourself. Even from me and your father.” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently to show her love in a little way.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated tears, tears that came because with all the stress recently they were the only way your brain knew how to process, to cope.

You pulled your hands from hers to wipe at them, “I’m sorry.” was all you could say.

She wiped the tears falling down your face before saying, “Why?”

You sniffled, running your hands down your face before signing, “I see Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam being picked on, and there is nothing I can do. I can’t stand up to the bullies. I can’t say anything.”

“Okay, well soon you will be able to say something. You are learning their sign language, yes? I’ve heard from your siblings you are out working them.” She smiled at you and you could really see how proud of you she was.

You couldn’t help but crack a little smile although tears still threatened to fall, “Yes, mama. I’m getting better, but I’m worried it will be too late though.”

“I’m sure you will do your best, my ‘ite.” She thought for a second, “Why don’t you go try to talk to these kids tomorrow?”

You sighed, you didn’t want to, but you knew your mom would nag you until you agreed, “Okay. Love you.”

She smiled lovingly at you, “Love you too.” before pulling you into a hug.

When tomorrow came you didn’t even want to leave your marui, but you found the strength to do so. You did some of the breathing exercises Tsireya had taught you to try to calm your nerves, and they worked for the most part, steadying you and clearing your head.

However as soon as you stepped outside your marui you regretted it, not wanting to do what you had promised to your mother, but you knew you had to eventually. Eventually, which meant you could fool around as long as you wanted beforehand, and so you decided to settle down for a quick nap on the beach.

When you laid down and closed your eyes you quickly and easily fell asleep. You were still tired from last night when you struggled to sleep from your anxious thoughts.

When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was that it's because you couldn’t hear him.

Ao’nung tried to not let anything get to him, especially when it came to people he didn’t like, like the Sullys, but for some reason you, (Y/n) Sully, had peeved him more than anyone or anything else. He had grown tired of you ignoring him when he shouted or laughed at you, like you didn’t even notice he was there, tired of you flat out avoiding him sometimes as you scurried away when he tried to approach you.

Of course he knew why, he had the same intentions to bully you and make you feel unwanted in Awa’atlu as your siblings. Of course you didn’t want this so you spent most of your time avoiding him, but for some reason instead of him not caring about it, it made him want to get under your skin even more.

When the sun rose today he decided today was the day to act. Today he would confront you head on, face to face. He would make you notice him, and he would make you feel awful in the process. So he gathered his friends, his goons, and they set off to find you.

They first checked with Tsireya who was with the rest of your siblings, but you were nowhere to be found, they all insisted they hadn’t seen you. Then they combed the beach, going from one end to the other, and on the far end they found you peacefully asleep on the soft sand.

He couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked asleep and peaceful, but he quickly shook it off, shouting at you, “Wake up, freak!”

He was targeting your extra finger and the hair above your eyebrows, like he had your siblings because he knew that got to them, and hoped it would do the same to you.

When you didn’t stir he tried shouting again, assuming you were awake, but trying to act asleep to avoid him, “What is wrong with you? Do you not care or are you stupid avoiding me?”

His friends laughed at you when you still didn’t move, eyes not cracking open and your breathing staying the same, so he took the next step, trying something physical. He kicked sand up and over you and finally you stirred, sitting straight up and looking around for the source of the sand, and when you saw him your heart dropped, a lump forming in your throat.

“There we go, now you are paying attention.” He snickered.

You tried to read his lips, but he spoke too fast, and you just stayed silent. You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a look of confusion.

You hesitated for a second, but were about to sign something when he spoke again. “Do you not speak? A silent freak, interesting.” You still didn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his friends all laughed at you, and although you couldn’t hear it it made you feel small.

“I’m sorry. I can not hear you.” You signed, using Metkayina sign language this time.

He scoffed, “I do not believe that. I think you just don’t want us to bother you, but here we are.” He laughed in your face.

“Please use your hands.” You tried to communicate, but they just wouldn’t listen to you.

“No.” He sneered, this you understood, one single word.

Your mouth dropped open, offense written all over it. You knew he was disrespectful, didn’t care about others feelings, but you would make him care, “I can not hear. I am deaf.”

He was about to retort against you again, but when he had been searching for you earlier that day Neteyam knew he meant trouble, so when he found you he stayed in the shadows, watching, but now Ao’nung had taken it too far.

He surged forwards, anger consuming him, “Step off bro. She can’t hear you.”

“Yeah that is what she just said.” He rolled his eyes, “I do not care though, it is better if she can not hear me. Means I can make fun of her without her knowing.” He signed the last part so you could understand.

You shrunk back, standing to hide behind Neteyam. You tugged on his arm, “It’s okay.” You signed.

“It’s not okay, (Y/n).” He rubbed a hand down his face, turning to Ao’nung, “You need to leave her alone.”

“Whatever.” Ao’nung scoffed before turning and walking away.

Now he knew why you seemed to ignore him, you just didn’t know he was talking to you. You were probably avoiding him because you didn’t know their sign language yet. He felt bad for some reason. He usually wouldn’t feel bad about his bullying but with you it felt different now knowing this.

He couldn’t show his feelings though, worried about his little group making fun of him, but he slowly started to back off of you, and your siblings some as well. Whenever one of his “friends” would ask why, he would reply something like “We can not make fun of a cripple.” and roll his eyes, still a jab at you, but less so.

At some point you became all that consumed his thoughts, on his mind at all times, and whenever he would see you with his sister, or your siblings, he would feel the need to insert himself into the conversation, but he always refrained. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but he feared judgment from his “friends” who are just as nasty as he was.

Eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore, heading to your marui to ask to talk with you, in the way you would understand. When he knocked on the doorway of the family home Lo’ak was the first to notice him, glaring at him and nudging Neteyam in the side, directing his attention towards Ao’nung.

Neteyam stood before either of his parents even noticed the boy in the doorway, stalking over to him and dragging him down the pathway so they could talk, “What do you want?” He hissed out.

Ao’nung cleared his throat, but the words still came out small, nervous, “I came to apologize to (Y/n)...”

“No.” Was all Neteyam said before turning away and starting to walk back into the Sully family’s home.

Ao’nung grabbed his arm before he got too far away, “Please. Please let me talk to her.” He begged, something he didn’t like to do, but it was necessary.

Neteyam sighed, “Fine, but if you do anything I will chop your head off myself.” He threatened the boy, “I’ll go get her.”

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the marui, a frown on your face and hands he could see shaking, “What do you want?” You signed, hands shaking with nerves.

“I came to say sorry.” He started off, “I’m sorry for bullying you, and your siblings. I promise I won’t do it any more.”

“And?” You asked, knowing there was more.

He looked nervous now, hands shaking as he signed, “I wanted to extend the offer of friendship.”

You looked shocked now, “You want to be friends with me?”

He nodded his head, smiling shyly, “Yes. Absolutely.”

You smiled this time, relieved he would be leaving your siblings alone, and excited to learn more about him, about what he was really like under the bad boy shell, “Okay, friend.”

He just nodded at you, “I have to go now. See you at lessons with Tsireya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” You responded.

When you entered the marui again everyone's eyes were on you, a light blush on your face, “I made a friend.” You smiled.

You could see your parents cheering and clapping for you, but your siblings' faces were unsure, you would have to reassure them later but for now you were all having a family night, playing games and handing out things you had made for each other with the new resources you were getting used to using. They were clunky and awkward, but you would get better, it reminded you of something, of someone.

As days passed into weeks you and Ao’nung had grown closer, him pretty much taking over your lessons, stealing you away from Tsireya who was sad to see you go, but happy for her brother for making a friend, a real friend, not one of his goons that tended to hover around him at all times. You had seemingly broken down his bad boy aesthetic and his goons had since left him, moving onto another leader to follow, still as nasty as ever.

You were grateful for him letting his walls down around you, allowing you to see him, and soon you did. You saw him as more than you ever had before. You couldn’t help but think about courting him, of trading little handmade gifts, and sharing little intimate moments of happiness throughout the day.

It seemed as if he wanted the same as he began bringing you gifts, starting as a little armband he made from you out of hard to find shells he had spent many hours trying to find, then it moved onto necklaces and bracelets. Each was more intricate than the last.

When this started you began to bring him things too, poorly made things because using dried seaweed and palm leaves were different from the materials of the jungle, but you managed. Even though they weren’t the best quality he proudly wore them, gladly accepting every gift you would give.

Everyone had noticed by now, the traded jewelry, the touches that lingered a little too long, and the longing looks when you weren’t together. What baffled people most however was not Ao’nung’s seemingly peaceful side coming out, but the fact that neither of you had officially come out and asked if you were courting.

You were courting, you both knew that, but Ao’nung wanted to put it into words, he wanted to make it official, but he felt the need to fix a couple things first, to get a couple blessings.

So he went to the person he thought would be easiest first, your mom. She had seen you two from afar and already had talked to you about it, encouraging you to pursue him and get what you wanted. She had said she was not Tsahík, but Eywa had shown her signs. So when Ao’nung asked she immediately gave him her blessing, knowing this was something not just he wanted, but something you wanted too.

Then he went to your dad. He was a fierce warrior who commanded respect, and Ao’nung tried his best to be respectful, carefully wording his proposal of courting his daughter. Of course Jake had been hesitant at first, but eventually he caved after Ao’nung had mentioned he already had Neytiri’s blessing.

Finally he went to Neteyam, your twin brother, your best friend since birth. Neteyam was adamantly against it, wanting nothing to do with Ao’nung, and wanting his sister to have nothing to do with him either. He was still on the edge of forgiving Ao’nung, swaying over a cliff where falling meant forgiving Ao’nung for his wrong doings, and when Ao’nung explained his love for you, his intentions to never hurt you and treat you with the respect you deserve Neteyam fell over the cliff, giving the Metkayina boy his blessing.

Once he had gotten their blessings he had invited you to the beach where he had first intentionally seeked you out. You were hesitant to go back there with him, but you gave in, trusting him wholeheartedly.

You love him. You trust him. You see him.

When you got there he pulled you to sit down with him, you both facing each other, and he signed, letting his heart out, letting his feelings show, “I am sorry for any times I have hurt you. I was an ass and a fool, and I wish I had never caused you upset or harm. I am sorry for bullying your siblings too, they did not deserve it, but I was scared by the new people and what they would bring. I now see I should have helped like my sister. I should have been making you feel at home here, not doing the opposite.”

“It’s okay. We’re past that.” You reassured him.

He nodded, continuing, “Now I see how special you are. I see how much you’ve changed me and my views on life. I am grateful for the person you have shaped me into. I am grateful I got the chance to make it up to you. I want to court you. Officially.”

You felt your heart swell, butterflies in your stomach, and you were sure it was showing on your face, “I would love that.”

You moved your hands carefully to cup his face, holding it there as you looked into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for him too, then you pulled him in, lips brushing against each other before they fully made contact. It was magical, unlike anything you had felt before, and you were happy it was him making you feel this way. So happy, so loved.

When you pulled apart he smiled widely at you, grabbing your hands and giving them a gentle but tight squeeze before using them to say, “I see you. I see you.”

You sign your thoughts from earlier, “I love you, I trust you, I see you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles, and pulls you back in for another kiss, and you feel at peace. You know he is yours, and you are his. You know he will never leave you, and you will never leave him. You know he loves you, and you love him. You know he sees you, and you see him.

Word Bank:

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Kelku (Omatikaya homes)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

‘Ite (Daughter)

Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)

[natsaffection]

Ohmygosh this is so funny, I’m the anon that just sent in a wandanat sex pollen fic request, only to immediately remember that you have a sex pollen fic for Natasha! 😂 so if you’re not feeling that request I totally understand, and maybe instead of reader being infected with sex pollen, she gets exposed to or injected with truth serum so she tries to avoid Wanda and Natasha after the mission so she doesn’t accidentally confess her feelings. She eventually does confess and Wanda and Natasha use the serum to their advantage, making reader flustered and making her admit sexual fantasies that she’s had of them, etc.

Truth and Desire. | WandaNat

Natasha x Fem!Reader x Wanda

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Kinda manipulative Wanda and Natasha, Begging, fingering, oral, restraints, multiple orgasm

Word Count: 1,7k

A/N: And with that good night. ✨🫂

The team moved with precision and stealth, each step calculated, each breath measured. You felt a rush of adrenaline, mixed with the familiar camaraderie you experienced with Natasha, Wanda, and the others. Little did you know, this mission would uncover more than just enemy secrets.

The plan was going smoothly until it wasn’t. An unexpected ambush caught you by surprise. In the chaos, you were separated from the team and captured by the enemy. Bound and injected with a serum, you struggled against the restraints, feeling the truth serum course through your veins.

A cold, calculating voice filled the room. “Tell us everything about the Avengers.”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to speak. You knew the consequences of revealing their secrets. But the serum was relentless, and despite your best efforts, you felt the words slipping out.

Hours felt like days, but the team did not give up. They tracked your location and stormed the facility with fury, taking down guards with swift precision.

When they found you, relief washed over them. Wanda freed you from the restraints while the others created a protective barrier against any threats. You felt a mix of gratitude and fear. The effects of the serum were still lingering, and you knew you couldn’t control what you might say next.

Back at the Avengers headquarters, you avoided Natasha and Wanda as much as possible. You feared that a simple conversation would betray your deepest secrets. The truth serum had made you vulnerable, and you couldn’t risk confessing your feelings for them.

Hours passed, and Natasha and Wanda noticed your distant behavior. Concerned, they approached you one evening and found you alone in the training room.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? You seem so distant, do you want to talk about the mission?” Natasha asked gently, her eyes full of concern.

Your heart raced. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I… I can’t..” you stammered, turning away. Wanda stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re here for you.”

You closed your eyes, knowing you couldn’t hold back any longer. “It’s not that simple..” you whispered. “The serum… it makes me say things. Things I can’t control.”

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a worried glance before Wanda spoke again. “What are you afraid of saying?” Your resistance crumbled, and you finally faced them. “I’m afraid to tell you that I have feelings for both of you.” Your eyes widened.

The room fell silent as your words hung in the air. Natasha and Wanda were stunned, processing the unexpected confession. You braced yourself for their reactions, fearing the worst.

But then Natasha took a step forward, her expression softening. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ve been through so much together. Your feelings don’t change that.”

Wanda nodded, her eyes reflecting empathy and understanding. “We care about you. We can figure this out together.”

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha and Wanda had been watching you closely for some time. They had noticed the lingering glances and unspoken words. When your confession came, it was less of a surprise and more of a confirmation of what they had already suspected.

The two women exchanged a silent agreement. They had their own desires and plans, which they had kept hidden until the right moment. With your vulnerability laid bare by the serum, they saw an opportunity to explore those desires.

They approached you with seemingly innocent intentions. “Why don’t you come with us to our room? Let’s talk this out.” You agreed, relieved that your long-held secret was finally out. You suspected nothing beyond a friendly conversation.

The atmosphere in the room was calm, almost serene. They offered you a drink, and you sat together, chatting about various topics. The conversation flowed naturally until Natasha’s gaze sharpened and she moved closer.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” Natasha said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. Wanda nodded, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “We know you’ve been holding back. We want to understand everything.”

Before you could react, Natasha and Wanda acted in unison. Natasha grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed, while Wanda used her powers to ensure you couldn’t resist.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, your heart racing.

Natasha leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. “The serum. It makes you tell the truth. And we want to hear everything.”

Your mind raced as the serum’s influence made it impossible to hide your thoughts. You felt a mix of fear and excitement as Natasha and Wanda’s intentions became clear.

Wanda’s voice was soft but commanding. “Tell us, what fantasies have you had about us?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to resist the serum’s pull. “You’re being u-unfair! I… I can’t! It’s too embarrassing, please..!”

Natasha’s grip tightened slightly, her voice a low whisper. “You don’t have a choice. Tell us everything, Y/n. Go on.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the serum compelled you to speak. “I… F-Fuck! I imagine being with both of y-you! Your hands on my body, your lips on my skin. I want to feel everything, to be with you both, completely…”

Natasha’s gaze was intense. “And what else? Tell us every detail.”

Your words tumbled out, each confession more intimate and explicit than the last. “I imagine being tied up, helpless, while you both take control. I dream of you Natasha using your strength to dominate me, and Wanda using your powers to tease and please me..”

Natasha’s eyes darkened with desire. “You like being at our mercy, don’t you?” You nodded, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I do. I want to be completely at your mercy…God, I hate you guys for this…”

Wanda grinned, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “Good girl.” The two exchanged a look, and you felt Wanda stand up and pull out a soft rope. Natasha still held your hands tightly while Wanda tied them completely together. “F-Fuck… you’re not going to…”

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a heated glance, their desire mirrored in each other’s eyes. Natasha’s hands explored your body, discovering every spot with a mix of tenderness and possessiveness. She planted kisses along your neck, biting lightly into your skin and eliciting soft moans.

Wanda used her powers to create sensations that drove you wild. She manipulated your senses, making it feel as if multiple hands and mouths were caressing you simultaneously. The intensity of the sensations made you writhe against your restraints, your body aching for more.

“Do you like this?” Natasha’s voice was a husky whisper. “Y-Yes,” you gasped. “Please, don’t stop…” Natasha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Good girl,” she murmured. “We want to hear everything you feel.”

Wanda’s fingers traced intricate patterns on your skin, her touch electrifying. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she said softly, her breath hot against your ear. “So vulnerable, so honest.”

Natasha moved her hands lower, teasing the edge of your clothes. “I think it’s time to take these off,” she said, her voice a mixture of command and desire. With practiced ease, she undressed you, leaving you completely exposed.

Wanda’s eyes roamed your body appreciatively. “Perfect,” she whispered, her fingers continuing their teasing dance. “Now, tell us what you want, Y/n.”

You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. “I… I want you both,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. “I want to feel you both inside me. Please…”

Natasha smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes. “That’s what we wanted to hear,” she said. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with possessive hunger.

Wanda’s hands continued their magical teasing, her powers enhancing every touch, every caress. “You’re doing so well, Y/n,” she murmured. “Just let go. Let us take care of you.”

Natasha’s lips moved from your mouth to your neck, then down to your breasts, where she took a nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling until you were writhing beneath her. Her hands roamed lower, her fingers slipping between your legs, finding you wet and ready.

“Look how ready she is for us,” Natasha said, her voice thick with desire. She slid a finger inside you, making you gasp. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “More, please…” Wanda leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “Tell us exactly what you want, Y/n,” she whispered. “Don’t hold back.”

Your voice was barely more than a whimper. “I want… I want Natasha to take me… and Wanda, I want to feel your mouth on me… everywhere…”

Wanda’s smile was both kind and wicked. “As you wish,” she said. She moved down your body, her tongue flicking out to taste your skin as she went. When she reached the juncture of your thighs, she looked up, her eyes meeting yours. “Just relax,” she murmured. “We’ll make you feel so good.”

Natasha’s fingers continued their relentless teasing, her thumb circling your clit as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. “You’re so responsive,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “So beautiful.”

Wanda’s mouth descended on you then, her tongue exploring your most sensitive areas with expert skill. The combined sensations of Natasha’s fingers and Wanda’s mouth were almost too much to bear.

You cried out, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you. “Oh god, yes! Please, don’t stop!”

Natasha’s pace quickened, her fingers moving faster, harder. “That’s it, Y/n,” she encouraged. “Let go for us. Come for us.”

Wanda’s tongue never let up, her hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as she drove you closer and closer to the edge.

The pressure built inside you, overwhelming and undeniable. With a final cry, you came apart, your orgasm ripping through you with intense force.

Natasha and Wanda didn’t stop, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling, breathless mess. When they finally let you come down from your high, they both kissed you tenderly, their touches soft and soothing.

“You did so well,” Wanda whispered, her lips brushing against your forehead.

Natasha cradled your face in her hands, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. “We’re not done with you yet,” she said softly. “But for now, rest. We’ll take care of you.”

[edenesth]

Scarlet Requiem

Pairing: emperor!Baekhyun x empress!reader

AU: historical au (Goryeo era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: In his reign, Baekhyun strived to be a virtuous emperor, all for the sake of his kind-hearted empress, steadfastly resisting the temptations of power that had corrupted those before him. He held onto the belief that this was the key to securing her eternal presence by his side. Yet, he learned, to his heartbreak, that this very resolve would lead to the cruellest loss of all.

Genre: heavy angst

Trigger Warnings: major character death, violence, gore, lots of blood

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Capture that demon before she flees!"

Her hands trembled as she gazed at her reflection in the ornate gold mirror. Once healthy skin now bore a sickly pallor, brown eyes turned crimson, tears staining her cheeks red. Even her jet-black hair had transformed to snowy white. Confusion and fear gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the inexplicable transformation.

As guards roughly seized her arms, she pleaded, "No, please! I've done nothing wrong! I don't understand any of this!"

"Of course, you'd deny it, Your Imperial Majesty," sneered the Minister of Rites, one of many who had urged her husband, the emperor, to accept their daughters as concubines. "Little did you know, those potions you received from the royal healer for the past month were meant to reveal your true nature by shedding your human guise."

Horror pierced her heart as realisation dawned. The tonics meant to maintain her health had been a ruse. She had been poisoned, it explained the sudden and alarming changes in her body and health.

"You," she whispered, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon her. "It was all you."

She was not naive; she understood the ministers' discontent with her influence over Baekhyun throughout his reign. Their persistent attempts to sway him, offering their daughters as concubines to bolster their own power and threaten her position, had not escaped her notice. Their frustration must have reached its zenith when her husband adamantly refused their advances, steadfast in his commitment to her as his one and only empress.

"Hm? I'm not sure I understand what you're implying," the man smirked, his deceptive tone belying his words. "We've long suspected there was more to you, Your Imperial Majesty. It appears you're indeed a demon, effortlessly manipulating the emperor. Surely a man of his stature would desire more than one woman by his side?"

Struggling against the guards' grasp, she retorted weakly, "You vile cowards. You'll rue the day my husband learns of this..."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing their sinister plot. They had bided their time, seizing the perfect opportunity amidst the chaos of war. With Baekhyun, the virtuous emperor she had wished him to be, leading the army, they saw their chance to poison her, framing her as a demon to eradicate her while he was away.

"Or perhaps we'll witness the rise of the ambitious emperor we've long awaited. He will finally be able to reach his full potential without you here obstructing his path," he sneered, gesturing towards the approaching healer with another bowl of poison. "Just comply and drink your tonic, Your Imperial Majesty. Your suffering will soon end, and our nation will thrive under the rule of a new emperor, liberated from your naive ideals."

As the sinister men tightened their grip, she sobbed in agony, the relentless headache from the past month resurfacing with a vengeance. Each touch felt like a dagger through her skull, each word a cruel reminder of her plight.

With an apologetic bow of his head, the healer cupped her jaw, his hands trembling as he forced the bowl of poison towards her lips. "Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty," he whispered, his voice trembling with remorse. "This will be the last one, I promise."

She gagged as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, burning with each swallow. Crimson tears streamed down her white face as she choked on the vile concoction, feeling her strength wane with each passing moment. In that desperate moment, all she could do was pray for salvation from the nightmare consuming her.

As the healer finally released his hold, she felt despair engulf her. The bitter poison settled within her damaged insides, coursing through her veins like a silent killer, slowly consuming her from within.

"It is done, my lord. The empress will not survive through the night," the healer declared, his voice carrying a finality that chilled her to the bone.

The minister's grin widened with satisfaction. "Excellent. Arrange for someone to confirm her death by dawn. Let her enjoy her final moments in the comforts of her own chambers. His Imperial Majesty will surely be grateful we've rid him of his treacherous demon of a wife upon his return from war."

Laying limply in the centre of her grand chambers, the very space she had once despised before ascending to empress, memories flooded her mind. She recalled the scepticism that clouded her heart when she first found herself falling for the crown prince of the nation. After all, history had taught her that no happy endings awaited the women who loved emperors. But Baekhyun was different—he was loving, caring, and considerate, going to great lengths to prove his devotion to her.

He swore never to take concubines, to resist the allure of power, and to remain hers, and hers alone. Despite the admiration of the entire nation, he remained committed to prioritising her above all else, even if it meant drawing the ire of his ministers and officials. Their accusations of his partiality towards his empress over his nation only served to strengthen his resolve, his unwavering loyalty to her.

But now, as she lay weakened by poison, she realised the tragic irony of his goodness. It was his very commitment to righteousness that led him to the battlefield, refusing to let his men fight in his stead. And it was this decision that ultimately sealed their fate, leaving her to face the consequences of his noble intentions.

As the darkness closed in around her, she couldn't help but wonder how Baekhyun would react upon returning to find her lifeless form in this state. Would he succumb to the poisonous words of his ministers, believing their accusations that she had been a demon all along? Would he entertain the notion that she had bewitched him, clouding his judgement and leading him astray?

Or would he remain firm in his loyalty, unwavering in his belief that this was nothing more than a cruel ploy to rid him of her for good? In the depths of her fading consciousness, she desperately clung to the hope that he would see through the lies, that his love for her would prevail over doubt.

On the brink of death, she yearned to trust in his endless devotion to her, to believe that he would never doubt the love they shared. It was a fragile hope, but in that moment, it was all she had to cling to as she slipped further into the darkness, awaiting the inevitable arrival of dawn and the fate it would eventually bring.

"Forgive me for not being strong enough, Baek," she whispered into the stillness of the chamber, her voice barely a breath against the heavy silence. "Please don't blame yourself for any of this."

As the darkness threatened to swallow her entirely, she couldn't help but reflect on the warnings of history, the cautionary tales of women who loved emperors, only to meet tragic ends. Once again, it seemed, she had fallen victim to the same fate.

Her vision blurred with crimson tears as memories flooded her mind—moments shared with Baekhyun before he departed for battle, blissfully unaware that they would be their last. Each memory stung with bittersweet intensity, a painful reminder of what could have been, had fate been kinder.

As her life ebbed away, flashes of cherished moments with him flickered through her mind like scattered stars in the night sky.

Wrapped in the warmth of silk sheets, doubts clouded her mind one morning, questioning her husband's resolve to remain faithful amidst the pressures of his position.

"Would you truly refuse to take any concubines, Baek?" she inquired, her voice laced with uncertainty. "You're aware that the ministers and officials desire it, and perhaps even the citizens of our nation. For all we know, the people might have grown weary of this same dull empress who has yet to bear you an heir."

He drew her close, pulling the silk sheets higher to shield her bare form from the chill seeping through the open windows. Pressing a tender kiss upon her head, he smiled reassuringly. "Never, my love. I do not care for their political machinations. I won't forsake my vow to you. You will remain my only wife, that is final. I did not ask to be emperor, the role was thrust upon me. Now that I am here, they should at least be grateful I am fulfilling my general duties."

She chuckled, nestling into the crook of his neck as he added, "Besides, if the ministers and officials are so displeased, they could just dismiss me. That would be even better; we could live in a quiet little village, just as we've always dreamed."

In another memory, standing before her reflection, plagued by insecurities instilled by the scheming ministers, his unwavering admiration melted her fears away.

"You look beautiful, my empress. You always do," he reassured, approaching from behind to envelop her in his arms.

"Not as beautiful as those young maidens, I fear. I am old," she confessed, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness after witnessing the ministers' attempts to seduce the emperor with their daughters.

Baekhyun gently turned her to face him. "If you're old, then I must be ancient," he teased. "I believe it's only fitting that I am with someone my age, and that's you, my empress. I have no interest in marrying children or anyone else for that matter; I am a taken man. Don't you dare compare yourself to anyone else again, you hear me? You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and that's all that matters."

In the final embrace before he departed for war, hearts heavy with the uncertainty of his return, they clung to each other.

"I will be back before you know it, my love. You'll wait for me, won't you?" her husband murmured against her neck, his arms tightening around her.

"Where else would I go, you idiot? Of course, I'll be waiting right here," she retorted, tightening her hold around his shoulders.

Amidst tears and laughter, he leaned in to kiss her deeply, pressing his lips against her soft ones over and over again to imprint the sensation into memory.

"I love you, my empress," Baekhyun whispered against her lips before pulling away, his eyes full of love and determination.

In the quiet of her chamber, she found solace in the fleeting recollections, clinging to them as the darkness threatened to consume her entirely. And as the crimson tears clouded her eyes once more, she resigned herself to the inevitable, silently bidding farewell to the life she once knew.

"I love you too, my emperor."

"I will not ask again, where is she?!" the emperor's voice thundered through the throne room as he stormed back into the palace, abandoning the battle upon learning the shocking revelation. According to the Minister of Rites in his letter, the empress had been discovered to be a demon all along, concealing her true nature under human skin to manipulate him and bend him to her will.

The eunuch panicked and fell to his knees. "Th-the empress is confined to her grand chambers, Your Imperial Majesty!"

Without uttering another word, Baekhyun stormed over immediately, his heart thumping loudly against his chest as fury overtook his being. Betrayal flooded his veins; he was seething with anger.

"You will regret lying to me," he growled under his breath, his vision zeroing in on the path towards her chambers, the place he frequented more than his own. "You will regret deceiving me."

Upon reaching the entrance of her chambers, he turned to the eunuch. "Gather all the ministers and officials who played a part in discovering the empress as what they claimed her to be in the throne room. I wish to speak with them soon."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," the eunuch hurriedly replied before darting off to carry out his orders. Baekhyun steadied his breaths, his hand resting on the door as he prepared to face her once more. Under his breath, he vowed, "I swear, you will all regret it. How dare you accuse my wife of being what you are—demons."

I'm here now, my love.

Stepping into the familiar room, the emperor's heart raced with anxiety as he mulled over a perfect apology. He needed to express his deep remorse for not being there when she needed him the most, for failing to shield her from the treachery of those vultures. Reflecting on his actions, he realised he should have never left her behind. In his rush to leave for war, he had neglected to arrange proper protection for her. In hindsight, he understood that he should have never left her side in the first place.

Determined to make amends, he vowed to do better. He resolved to never again allow those ministers or officials the opportunity to torment her in his absence again. From now on, he would be her shield, her staunch protector, and her unending support.

But it might be too late for any of that.

His steps faltered, his breath caught in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he beheld the sight before his eyes. The sword in his hands slipped, clanging loudly as it hit the ground, and he sank to his knees in disbelief at the last thing he expected to see.

His shock deepened as he took in his wife's unrecognisable appearance. Crawling towards her limp form on the ground, he pulled her into his arms, his voice trembling with anguish. The horror settled within him like a heavy weight as he tried to imagine what atrocities these monsters had dared inflict upon her while he was gone. His mind raced with images of torture and torment, each one more gruesome than the last.

"Oh god, what have they done to you?" he whispered, his heart fracturing into a million shards as he struggled to comprehend her pale skin, her white hair, and the blood-like tears staining her cheeks. With shaking hands, he gently cupped her cold cheek, his fingers tracing the contours of her face as if seeking reassurance that she was still there, still his beloved wife.

"Please wake up, my love. This isn't funny, stop scaring me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You promised to wait for me. You promised..." His words trailed off into a broken sob as he refused to accept anything but the truth, shaking his head in denial even as he searched desperately for a pulse, even when she remained unresponsive.

"No, no, no... this can't be real. It can't be," he murmured, his mind reeling with the unimaginable horror of what he had found.

Despair and regret enveloped him as he sobbed painfully, holding her lifeless body tightly against his chest. The realisation that she was truly gone, that her final moments were spent alone in the very room she despised just to be with him, weighed heavily on his heart. He grappled with the bitter truth that he had failed her, just as she had feared when she hesitated to be with him.

Gradually, his sorrow gave way to seething rage as he recalled the faces of the ministers and officials responsible for this atrocity. They had callously taken her life, foolishly believing he would be deceived by their feeble attempt to frame her. With trembling hands, he picked up a shard of the shattered bowl nearby and brought it to his nose, recognising the metallic scent of mercury.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

They had poisoned her with lethal doses of mercury, causing a myriad of symptoms—tremors, headaches, muscle weakness, kidney damage, and breathing difficulties. And the deliberate administration of such high doses to turn her hair white revealed their sinister intent from the outset.

Just how much had they fed her? It was evident they had intended to kill her from the start. Anguish and fury surged within him as he vowed to make them pay.

Gently caressing her cold cheek, he leaned in to kiss her unmoving lips, his own trembling against hers. He blamed himself for everything that had transpired. Perhaps if she hadn't been with him, she would have lived a better life—a normal life with a normal man. She wouldn't have to endure such a painful and cruel death.

It was all because of him.

Regret hung heavy in his heart, but dwelling on what could have been served no purpose.

"I'm so sorry, my wife," he whispered, his voice thick with grief. "Just hold on a bit longer, alright? I'll join you soon, but first, I'll make those bastards pay. Wait for me—I won't let you face this alone. Not again."

With resolve hardening in his heart, he retrieved his sword and sheathed it once more before lifting her lifeless form into his arms. Like a man burdened by death itself, he trudged towards the throne room where justice awaited. Kicking the doors open with a forceful thrust of his leg, he was met with a sea of horrified expressions from the ministers and officials. Clearly, they hadn't anticipated the emperor's dramatic entrance, cradling his beloved empress in his arms.

Ignoring their shocked gazes, he strode past them, his eyes fixed on the throne at the far end of the room. With careful tenderness, he laid his wife down upon the ornate seat, arranging her robes and ensuring her comfort as though she were merely sleeping. Pressing a solemn kiss upon her cold forehead, he turned to face the assembled council, their unease palpable in the air.

The guilty culprits remained frozen in their places, uncertain of what awaited them.

As the emperor's gaze swept over them, the ministers and officials for the first time felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down their spines. His expression was unreadable, his appearance wild and dishevelled compared to his usual polished demeanour. Specks of blood and dirt stained his robes and skin, his hair a tangled mess, half tied up in a disarray that mirrored the chaos within him.

Gone was the warm smile that often graced his features; instead, a slow, unsettling grin crept across his face.

"My dearest ministers and officials," he began, his voice low and laced with an eerie calmness. "Your message has been received loud and clear. I hope you're satisfied now that you've succeeded in eradicating the empress, as you so desperately desired. I've given it some thought, and perhaps... you were all right."

The Minister of Rites, attempting to feign nonchalance, cleared his throat. "A-about what, Your Imperial Majesty?" he stammered.

Baekhyun's eyes gleamed with a frightening intensity as he smirked, his demeanour bordering on madness. "About what this nation truly needs," he replied, his voice carrying a chilling edge.

"Not a good emperor, but a mad one."

Without giving the men before him time to register his words, all Baekhyun saw was red. In a split second, he unsheathed his sword and transformed into a bloodthirsty animal, cutting down anyone and everyone in his path. The Minister of Rites tried to flee but to no avail. He watched in complete horror as his colleagues dropped dead one by one, their blood splattering over the grand walls of the throne room, their screams echoing.

The emperor went on a rampage, leaving no man behind. The Minister of Rites, who had been behind the idea of poisoning the empress, smearing her name by labelling her a demon, and executing her, was now filled with regret. They had turned him into the mad king his empress had feared. Perhaps they had finally achieved their goal, but it wasn't what they were prepared for.

The minister collapsed to his knees before the emperor, realising that His Imperial Majesty had saved him for last. Trembling, he rubbed his hands together in a desperate plea. "P-please, everything I've done, it's for the betterment of our nation."

Baekhyun's humourless laughter echoed through the hall, sending shivers down the minister's spine. "You truly believe that, don't you? Of course, that includes subjecting my wife to all that torment. Yes, because that is exactly what the nation needs. Unfortunately for you, I am the emperor, and I determine what's best for the nation. And in this case, I think it's better off without traitors like you. See you on the other side," were the last words the minister heard before his head was severed from his neck, rolling off to join the others on the floor.

The emperor finally turned back, his eyes softening as they landed on his beloved's lifeless body. Making his way back towards her, he knelt down beside her, tears streaming down his face as he reached for her hand. Holding it to his cheek, he missed the warmth it once had.

"I'm coming now, my love," he whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. I'll be there with you soon."

"Yes, I understand His Imperial Majesty's orders not to enter, but it's been hours. Surely, any assembly would have concluded by now, wouldn't it?" With apprehension and curiosity, a senior court lady pushed open the doors to the once-bustling throne room, expecting to find His Imperial Majesty and his council of ministers. Instead, she was met with a horrifying sight—a scene of bloodshed and chaos spread across the grand hall.

Her piercing scream echoed through the silent room, jolting nearby palace staff into action. Rushing to the scene, they were met with a scene that chilled them to the bone. At the end of the room, amidst a sea of lifeless bodies, lay the empress on the throne, her appearance shocking all who beheld it. Beside her, her husband remained, his head cradled on her chest, their hands tightly clasped together. A gaping stab wound marred his chest—it seemed he had taken his own life before joining her in death.

Following that, the next prince in line promptly ascended the throne and found himself compelled to appoint an entirely new cabinet of ministers and officials. The entire nation descended into chaos, particularly since it was still embroiled in a war, with endless theories circulating about the events. While some speculated that the emperor succumbed to madness and killed his own council, others whispered of a conspiracy, suggesting that the ministers had orchestrated the demise of both the empress and the emperor.

Amidst this uncertainty, the new prince faced the daunting challenge of restoring order to the kingdom. With a heavy heart, he pledged to uncover the truth behind the tragic occurrences and ensure that justice was served to those responsible.

In the end, the truth of what truly occurred remained shrouded in mystery. All those involved had departed from the realm of the living. As centuries passed, that chapter in history became known as the Scarlet Requiem, a haunting tale that lingered in the collective memory of the kingdom. Despite countless efforts to unravel the enigma, the events surrounding the tragedy remained obscured by the sands of time, leaving future generations to ponder and speculate about the dark secrets of the past.

"What do you think really happened?" a woman asked her boyfriend as they studied a painting depicting the throne room scene in a museum dedicated to the events of the Scarlet Requiem.

He pondered for a moment before responding with a shrug. "It's hard to say. But judging by the way he's holding onto her, it seems he must have truly loved her. Let's hope they've found peace and happiness, whether in the afterlife or their next life."

She nodded in agreement, leaning into his comforting embrace. "Yeah, I hope so too."

He flashed a mischievous grin. "I'm just saying, if I were him, I wouldn't have left her for war in the first place."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful smack, though a smile danced on her lips. "I'm sure you wouldn't. I bet it's because the empress was described as beautiful as a celestial being."

He scoffed. "Doesn't matter to me how pretty she was. I'll stay only if you're my empress."

Unbeknownst to them, the couple had been contemplating their own past lives. Perhaps the emperor and empress had indeed found each other again in another existence.

Believe it or not, this has been on my mind for months ever since seeing those AI-generated photos of Baekhyun. I had an epiphany while looking at them again yesterday and just had to write this. It's my first EXO fic, and I hope it's decent hehe~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Master Tag list:

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @green-agent @vantediary @tinyteezer |

@hollxe1 @pandabur666 @lilactangerine @oddracha @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[aresdoll]

˚✧ ₊˚ʚ 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓼 — 𝓳𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓻 𝓪.𝓲

♡┊𝓣𝓦: 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮

❥ Sugar Daddy || Nanami Kento — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He wanted a traditional romance, but finding you in a night of sexual frustration... Maybe he had found what he was looking for.

❥ Carlos Oliveira — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 After the worldwide contamination, Carlos was the only one left to contain the city's zombies - however, you had also survived and now, he needed to convince you to stay with him at the base.

❥ Kratos || God of War — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Maybe he started to feel something more for you... And it was strange for him to feel emotions other than anger and hate.

❥ Freak || Joe Mayhem — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 A government experiment gone wrong when they tried to create a perfect war soldier – giving rise to Joe, a man who was pure chaos. Yet you seemed to attract him somehow... And now you had a "scary dog" to guard you.

❥ Scorpion || Kuai Liang — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Oh no... It's his wedding...

❥ Mafia Stepdad || Klaus Morgan — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He married your mother to cover up the crimes, but at the same time he saw something that interested him a lot in this marriage by adhesion... You.

❥ Nanami Kento — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You had a promising future as a sorcerer, but you gave it all up to go to Geto's side — and now your former tutor needed to stop you.

❥ Detective coworker || Hermes Charles [FTM BOT] — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your coworker was a tired and hot dilf, in dire need of getting fucked... And you seemed great for that role and especially for fucking his pussy until he forgot about his problems – However he found himself with more intense feelings for you.

❥ Enemy || Félix Ludwig — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 His hatred was a thick shell that covered an unresolved love; and now he had the opportunity to have you in his hands... Or rather, on his feet.

❥ Alpha cellmate || Reiji Kaito — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You were the only omega in prison, and luckily, you ended up in the cell of an Alpha who would protect you during your heat.

❥ Femdom || Roxie Katherine — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 She loved turning men like you into beautiful princesses...

❥ Rich Husband || Alex Ludwig — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Everyone thought you only married him because of his money — but he knew you really loved him.

❥ Bestfriend || Hari Raj — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your boyfriend dumped you and now your best friend wants to show the jerk what he's been missing...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He didn't expect the surprise when he lowered his clothes, but it was a pleasant surprise...

❥ Husband || Miguel O'Hara — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your kind husband had a baby fever and urgently needed to get you pregnant...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 night company...

❥ Ghost || Simon Riley — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 you were curious and he let you touch him...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 His brother didn't want you, but he did.

❥ Radioactive || Simon Ghost — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Was he still the same?

❥ Scorpion || Kuai Liang — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Temptations

❥ Hades || Simon Ghost — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 The god of the underworld fell in love with you, and with that, the best way for him to keep you was to kidnap you for himself — Persephone {{user}} x Hades Simon.

❥ Dom. Caregiver || Eric Blair — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 It was supposed to be a platonic contract, until he started to feel something more for you...

❥ Sadistic Guardian Angel || Ciel Melchior — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 After you became very ill after a near-death experience, you received mystical protection from a guardian angel — however little did you know that he only liked to see you suffer.

❥ Stepdad || Nanami Kento — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Nanami had always noticed your attempts to be more than his stepson, and now, after that fateful accident – he needed to put an end to your illusory desires.

❥ Noob Saibot — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Together in khaos

❥ ALT Stepdad || Simon Ghost' — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You end up having sex with your stepdad as a birthday present || alt version ||

[obriengf]

My Beloved || Thomas x Reader

Summary: Thomas is filled with emotion as you both seek out a way to show just how much love you truly hold for one another. Words: 7.5k Warnings: SMUT18+!!!, loss of virginity, masturbation, p in v, this is honestly very fluffy and sweet okay  Notes: okay so... this started off good then towards the end i got desperate to finish it and it turns rushed i think?????? a little bad??????? anyway, these guys would have NO idea about sex ed tbh just what they’ve learnt from each other... because i feel like WCKD had better things to do, like brainwashing everyone, instead of teaching kids about the birds and the bees. long story short just go with it and no judging on my smut please i dont write it often!!!

There’s a boy, and he’s so beautiful it hurts. 

Among the fiery glow of the bonfire flames, his eyes luminate with golden specks - so bright, so mesmerising, that you cannot stop staring from beyond the heated curtain. You catch his gaze and the way his smile quirks upward, bashfulness flushing his cheeks and provoking his teeth to sink sinfully into the plusness of his lip. It brings a warmth to your chest - a sensation of adoration, burning hotter than the flames separating you both. It travels to your fingers with an itch that wants you to jump to the boy, embrace him, kiss him, love him. He had been everyone’s saviour, but to you, he saved more than just your life; he brought colour back to your dull days, allowing you to see the vibrancy that radiated with pure intentions from your daily sunlight. He returned hope to your anxious mind and settled the prior need to look over your shoulder for danger every spare second. He made you feel so incredibly loved to the point where you stopped breathing and your heart would swell with anticipating warmth. There’s a boy, and he’s so perfect it hurts, in the most breathtaking way. 

Thomas could feel you staring. He revelled in the way that your eyes sparkled, and how you looked at him as if he put the stars in the sky. He was still getting used to others viewing him as their paladin, but you were different - it was much simpler, housing purity and sincere devotion, seeing the boy as your ending. You fell in love in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by chaos and imminent peril, but the clawing need to stay by the other’s side brought you both to your much-deserved salvation; and better yet, into the forever hold of each other’s arms.

The boy couldn’t understand his emotions as they intensified, but he knew that it was longing. He knew that they yearned for you. He didn’t have the time or space to stop and consider how his body was growing and reacting to being around your own, the desperation to run and hide and fight had eventually become all that he could think about - until it was all over, and you were all safe. Now, those feelings returned and his thoughts drifted to how your kiss has started to ignite something in his gut, and how it spread through his veins to the point where he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and never let go. 

It was a topic of conversation that he had previously brought up through loose lips and in between inebriated breaths; Minho on the receiving end with a bit more sobriety, but he was still dazed as he listened with widened eyes and unsplit attention. It was near comic how Thomas had him on the edge of his seat - he couldn’t put into words just how he was feeling, but his friend could see the depth behind the amazed look that glassed over whisky hues and how a curt smile perked at his lips. Minho very much understood that desiring need, the way complete and utter endearment could make a person feel like they were floating effortlessly on cloud nine. Thomas was the first person he went to when he was ready to take that step further with the sweet girl from the kitchens - and now it had turned full circle, and Minho had never been happier that love had struck his closest friends. 

The flames began to die, juxtaposed to the rising moon that now bathed the Safe Haven in beautiful luminescence. Thomas could see you much clearer now, and it made your stomach flutter at how fervently he appeared. You found yourself growing more heated the further you allowed yourself to fall for the brunette boy; your eyes lingering that little bit longer, the need to nestle into the side of his body growing stronger, and your heart rapidly reverberating in your chest just that much harder. It was as if every nerve was ablaze with want, and it was such an unfamiliar sensation that you were starting to feel nauseous. And you didn’t want it to end.

It wasn’t long before Thomas stood, dusting at his covered thighs to rid the ash that sprinkled from the rising smoke. He moved slowly, almost with hesitance, but it was the bashful and budding thump from his heart that drew him toward you. Through the curtain of your lashes, you peered up at him as he stopped only a mere foot or so in front of you, his hand extended, and a chest filled with held breath that he hoped you wouldn’t notice. He was bathed in a fiery afterglow, his figure enveloped by golden flickers. You sighed dreamily. 

“Want me to walk you back to your hut?” His voice was quiet, a gentle hum as it held the possibility of diffidence. He always held a sort of shyness when it came to you, especially when it allowed him to hold your hand and selfishly receive all of your undivided attention. 

A rosy hue climbed your neck, speckling your cheeks with a blush that exceeded even the dancing flames of heat before you. It felt so incredibly right as your palm confidently slid over his own, granting Thomas permission to lightly grasp at your wrist and provide some strength in pulling you up. He always escorted you, these days. Part of him dreaded that if he didn’t, then something would happen to you. Whilst other parts craved the company you gave and the adoration you unforgivingly showered him in. Maybe, it was just his way of showing the supplemental gladers that surround you both that you would always leave with him, because you’re simply his. 

Regardless - your hands were quick to wrap around his arm, tugging the boy close to you as you clasped your fingers with his. Bidding farewell to your friends and fellow survivors hardly took any time before Thomas was guiding you away, the path he followed so well-known by now that he swore he could travel it in his sleep. The lanterns that usually adorned your way had already died down, softened by the late night, yet complemented beautifully with the rising blanket of radiant moonlight. It would be hard for you to form words around just how contented you felt in this moment; calmed by the gentle breeze wafting from the ocean shores of the Safe Haven, and lulled when it rustled nearby palm trees in harmony with the now distant joyousness abandoned back at the bonfire. 

Thomas’ thumb absentmindedly rubbed at your hand as your head dropped to his shoulder, the faint smell of burnt wood tickling your nostrils after becoming woven into the cotton of his shirt. You managed a small hum, surprising yourself when you inner thoughts left your lips with quiet notes, “Do you think it’ll stay like this forever?” 

“What will stay?” He replied, his eyes briefly glancing down to you, lips curling into a slight smirk at how in thought you seemed to be.

You paused, lips pursing as you racked your brain for the right words. Everything, is what you truly wanted to say, but even then you wished that some things were different. You wished for Newt to be there with you all, and Chuck, and Winston. You had also often thought about Teresa and just how much she would have contributed to this new society. You really didn’t want everything to say the same, but some things were just simply perfect in your eyes.

“The tranquility.” You ended up with, squeezing Thomas’ forearm with your spare grasp, “The calm after the storm. Being able to take a deep breath because you know you aren’t always looking over your shoulder. Nights like this… so beautiful, merciful. Seeing our friends smile in what felt like forever. Us.” 

“Us?” He questioned, peering to you again before focusing on the upcoming silhouette of your hut. Thomas laughed lightly, “We aren’t changing, not anymore. I have you and I’m keeping you forever. No take-backs, sorry sweetheart.” 

A tender giggle echoed lightly in the air as it fell from your lips, prompting you to nestle even closer into Thomas’ side. He always made you feel protected, and you know from the bottom of your heart that he will also continue to until his dying breath.

You pressed your lips just under his ear, breath igniting his skin, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was a force that managed to shake the walls; such harshness in comparison to the soft velvety feeling of his lips sliding against yours. Thomas’ brows furrowed slightly after forcefully kicking the door to your hut closed behind him, but it was the sweetness of your amused laughter that drew him so effortlessly back to you.

“A little eager?” The warmth of your breath fanned over his still rosy cheeks, reminding Thomas that you were so close. You watched as his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones - delicate, yet sharp - framing the doe-like brown eyes that you’ve grown to love, and beyond, and it made the boy appear so incredibly pure. He was a snowflake shining against the sun, a flower’s petals fresh as they begin to bloom, the dancing flames of a picturesque fire that you were only just admiring him through. 

Thomas managed a smile through a breathless exhale, as if you were there taking his breath away with your bare hands, grabbing and keeping it as your own lifeline. He lent in, this time with closed eyes, the tip of his nose nudging against yours, and it was your turn to hitch at his whispered words, “You have no idea.” 

His hands were rough. Callouses adorned them from the past year or so, memories and scars that captured how he survived and that those hands were the reason you were safe. They often trembled when he slept due to the nightmares that haunted him - the monsters that made him bleed, and the people that he watched perish before his tear-glazed eyes. Those hands carried the lives of legions of people at one point, and sometimes Thomas thinks that they are under pressure to still do so. Those hands were strong and could hold so much from so many people.

Yet, as one grasped your hip and the other cupped your cheek, they had never felt more tender. Oh - and how you desired the benign fingertips to soothe over your skin and touch you in places that have gone undiscovered by most. And if Thomas wanted to tread in those uncharted waters, there was no way that you would decline, not when you dreamt of his touch for so long.

You breathed him in once more, intoxicated by the most mundane of scents that built up who this boy came to be. The smoke was strong as it continued to linger, but the salt water that had dried on his skin and the subtle waft of dirt from his earlier exploration this morning was a concoction that on the best of days, drove you crazy, but right now you wanted nothing but to bathe yourself in it. With a small swallow of the lump in your throat, fingers grasped at the unbuttoned opening of Thomas’ henley, and you pulled him even closer than before until chests were flush and hearts beat in thumping unison. 

His lips found yours again with ease, wrapping around your own and taking you as if he were a starved man. It drew a small moan to elicit from your throat and he knew that he would do anything to hear that sound again, over and over, a broken record that could both lull him to a lustful sleep and keep him awake at all hours with a curled fist and an overworked forearm. It wasn’t until his tongue slipped; dragging with deliciousness over your bottom lip, and taking refuge against your own as he licked so casually into your mouth. That’s the moment you blacked out and allowed your stance to lose all sense of muscle, becoming jelly-legged and at the mercy of Thomas’ arms wrapping further around your submissive frame.

Thomas slowly walked you both backward until your knees collided with the frame of your makeshift bed. You released a small gasp, enough to wake you from your short absence from reality, as the boy took it as his cue to lift you carefully until you were laying down against the thin sheet that you deemed as a blanket. This was the first time that he was ever situated above you - usually pulling you into his arms as you stood with friends, or tugging you down onto his lap so that he could cuddle against your back. Kisses would be shared, but they were never this hot, nor this needy, and Thomas’ breaths stopped momentarily as he took in how stupidly beautiful you looked underneath his heaving body. 

He wasn’t sure what changed between you both so quickly with this new angle, but he had a sudden overwhelming sensation to kiss you with every ounce of passion he could muster, and meld himself with you until a single unit was left in your wake. He was throbbing in his head at the salacious thoughts that drowned his mind with images of you in positions seemingly compromisable. Throbbing in his heart at how emotion could so easily play such an intense role in how he never wanted to be a part from you for as long as he lived. And throbbing a little lower at how it all seemed to come together as one want, an impulse, a craving for your touch and taste and sounds that could drive a man mad in the absolute best way possible. Thomas was already halfway there. 

You could feel it too in the way he was gazing over your frame - the heat that loved to submerged your body was now between your legs, and you had the itch to squirm from the slight discomfort it gave you. It was formidable once before, during a night where sleep was off the schedule, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you yearned for being between Thomas’ arms and held to his chest. The heat was like a heartbeat as it pulsated, and under the curtain of nightfall, you had eased the pain with your fingers and a hasty soothing rub. You remember seeing Thomas flash behind your fluttering eyelids before they settled closed, and it made you press harder, chasing after a feeling that was odd at first… but so quickly became pleasureful until you squealed his name and your chest sank from a high that pulled you up from your bed. It was euphoric, and you were quick to understand what some of the others meant when they talked about making themselves feel so good. All you wanted now was that feeling again, and Thomas to be the one to grant you such elation.

With vulnerable movements, you reached up to cup the boy’s cheek, your thumb dragging from his nose to the softened skin under his eye, teasing his lower lash line. You bit your lip at how stunning he truly was and how the subtleness of moonlight played shadows across his face. He nuzzled into your hold and placed a small kiss to the skin, the tip of his nose dragging with fragility over your palm until his lips pursed once more. You needed him closer until all you could feel was him, all you could taste and hear, too. You were aching to settle the feeling that had now reached your lower abdomen as it screamed to be soothed, to be taken care of. 

“Kiss me.” You slipped, a softened whisper that Thomas almost missed until you said it again, “Kiss me, Tommy. I need you.”

You didn’t know what the words truly entailed except for how right it felt to say them - Thomas, clearly on a wavelength that matched yours with perfection, as he dropped to your lips with a smile and groan that you happily swallowed whole. Arms and legs clung to him for dear life as he slotted between your thighs, lips smacking and tongues dragging and suddenly that alluring cool night air became thick and humid. He covered your frame and slowly sank his body weight onto yours - a puzzle piece that was cut perfectly for you, embedded so sublimely against your curves and dips. 

Hips clashed with harmonising force, a kind of friction that was heavily sought as it was chased. It drew a throaty groan to echo past Thomas’ lips, his brows furrowed as he tried to overcome the near pained feeling of pressure against his crotch as you absentmindedly pushed up against him. It was bittersweet torture - the kind where he knew how to relieve it, but was riddled with nervousness about sharing it with you. He sat a curled fist beside your head as his other held your hip, hoping that you wouldn’t notice how frisky your touch and taste were making the boy. Thomas was holding back every instinct to lose control over a sensation that had only ever met his right hand.

You were lost hopelessly in his lips. They held slight chappedness from the salty air, but an ever-forgiving softness that so easily held you captive and vulnerable. Whenever he kissed you, it was as if you were nothing but his - simply a figure that had fallen victim to his tender touch and enrapturing words, you wouldn’t dare move in case it burst the bubble that separated you from the outside world. It was simply an addiction and you craved it always, a constant need for Thomas, a constant need to share your love. 

Absentmindedly, your ankles pulled his lower back further into you, and it was the meeting of his hardness against your heated core that ripped a sudden moan from you both as synchronised calls filled the space of your hut. You clung even further to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck among the thin sheen of sweat. It was the type of stimulation that you needed again, or else you’d stop breathing. Tentatively, your hips rose again before you gently rubbed over the pulsating hardness through the thick denim of his jeans, and you swore that stars exploded behind your eyes as you whined against his neck.

Thomas breathed out heavily, his throat thick, “Shit - shit, that feels good.” 

You nodded weakly, desperation clawing at you as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat, remembering the patches of skin that made him shudder with fragility. Thomas was melting against your frame - a puddle of a boy between your limbs as he began to rock over you, slow drags until a comfortable pace was met and he could feel your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

His senses were enamoured by you - completely and utterly taken, infatuated to no end. You were all that he could feel and it made the air thicker than he thought possible as he swallowed your panting breaths. The need came rather quickly as Thomas grasped at the back collar of his shirt, his ears perking at the small whine you let escape as he sat back on his knees to remove the obstructive piece of cotton. Your lips were still pursed and they chased him with weak effort from your sobered drunken haze, much to the boy’s admiring amusement.

With a chuckle, Thomas lent down to you, his lips ghosting over the rosy hue of your cheek before pressing gently against it. He allowed the tip of his nose to nuzzle against the soft skin before he spoke in a whispered tone, “Who’s the eager one now, hm?” A shudder travelled down your spine as warm breath danced below your ear; a sensation that was enough to rip another moan from your thumping chest, a sound so melodious that Thomas found it a hasty necessity to imprint it permanently in his mind. 

You replied breathlessly, “I can’t help that you’re hot, Tommy.” 

He gripped your waist after his fingers slid over the exposed skin from your hiked-up shirt with desperation to run his touch over every inch of your body. He didn’t want to push you to follow suit with the removal of your own shirt, but it didn’t stop the clench of his jaw and sudden strong grip as he held himself back from pursuing the hunger that was slowly developing within him.

You knew him, more than yourself, and how his demeanour would change, and how every emotion or action was a chapter in his book that you’ve read too many times to count. It promoted your hand to lift and squeeze at his bicep, Thomas’ eyes drifting to your widened gaze and the glint that sparkled among your coloured hues, “Take it off, it’s okay. I trust you.” 

He nodded, his chest fluttering at the faith you so easily had in him. You always did - have faith in Thomas - after all, he saved your life and in turn, you saved him by providing the limitless unconditional love that he deserved. His encouragement allowed you to find yourself after being lost within such a cruel world, and he never stopped believing in you. He never would. Thomas’ fingers flexed below your ribs, the toughed skin of his fingertips dragging with savour as he pushed your shirt further up your body. As it bunched under your chest, you managed to sit up slightly, quickly tugging the shirt until it let your skin breathe free, and it was tossed somewhere presently unknown across the room. The boy’s breath suddenly hitched as eyes raked shamelessly over your now vulnerable frame. His mouth felt dry, yet he was in complete awe. 

“You’ve seen me like this before.” You noted though the silence, your voice barely loud enough to break the intimate atmosphere. Your chest flushed slightly, only growing more vibrant as it reached your cheeks. You grew bashful under his doting stare, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip adoringly.

“Yeah, but…” Thomas thought back to the times where you all would swim at the beach, enough clothes to cover you, but to which still left little to the imagination. He shook his head once more, still in complete wonderment at you laying beneath him, “This is different. What I-I feel… it’s so much more than I can handle, you’re just so beautiful.” 

Your hand cupped his cheek and history repeated itself with such endearment; thumb rubbing under his eye to which he turned and kissed against your palm. It was quickly becoming your thing, your couple thing, something so small but so symbolic that ran the same path as screaming from the treetops that you’re in love. It was your silent communication of forever, and always, and until the end of our dying breaths to a world if there is one beyond ours. It was a promise and a reminder - that you both were there, and you weren’t ever going to leave. You were telling him through a simple touch of your hand that you were real, and his kiss was a reply of sincere gratitude.

Thomas lent down to peck the tip of your nose, smiling widely as your face scrunched with joy. His lips were quick to attach themselves to your neck next, wanting you to feel the ecstasy that you supplied him. They trailed with a wet path - his tongue darting out against pressure points and sucking at the spots that drew groans of satisfaction from you. Your head lulled back against his bed when teeth tickled your collarbone, and it didn’t take long for you to surrender yourself completely to him. Thomas’s tongue dragged heavily down your sternum before tracing along the cups that prevented you from bareness, eyes peering through thick lashes to silently ask for permission to go further. You couldn’t dare say no… not when every ounce of sunlight and warmth sang to you through such a simple look. 

You snuck a hand behind your back to unclasp the bra, suddenly releasing an unknown-held breath when the cool night air mixed with the heated moans that Thomas fanned against your chest. He swiftly reattached his lips as he relished in the new canvas for his kisses, his moistened trail continuing. You squeaked as he passed over your sensitive nipple, promoting your hand to grasp the back of his head and hold him closer to you. Thomas continued by sucking lightly before his tongue swirled in time with his hand squeezing your opposite side. He kneaded and squished the flesh tenderly, feeling his trousers tighten at the mewling sounds you made. 

He swapped sides and continued whatever sweet assault he could muster to prolong your symphony of sounds. It was building inside you - the desire for more. You felt like you were ignited, but wanting to be more than a spark… you needed to be an explosion, and you needed Thomas to be the one to set you off. You wiggled as you huffed out his name, your fingers fiddling with the button of your shorts when the boy pulled aware with a raised brow. 

“More… I need more. Please.” You begged, lifting your hips as Thomas helped pull the material away. He stood back by a step or two, whisky-glassed eyes absorbing your writhing body in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and a wet patch that matched the erotic stain over his crotch. He was robotic as movements forced him to remove his own pants, the playing field even, and his cheeks redder than the Safe Haven’s sunset when you immediately ogled at the tent that was pitched under his boxer briefs.

This sort of intimacy was alike a perilous expedition - unsteady footing at first, unsure how to press forward, but leading to a bewitching and alluring adventure with such rapturous salaciousness. It continued when Thomas’ hands were placed on your thighs, rubbing cautiously against your skin before dipping in between your legs. Just knowing that he was so damn close made you whine under your breath, quiet, yet pitched enough to catch Thomas’ attention. 

Your fingers moved absentmindedly as they circled the moistened patch that you created, chest swelling with a held breath. You shuddered, trying to compose yourself, voice humming with please, “I-It feels good when you rub right there…”

“Is that what you do?” He questioned, eyes wide as he took in the information, and fingers dancing hesitantly close to your core. All you could do was nod and whine, hips squirming just from the thought of the pleasure that you’ve previously made yourself feel. It was an instant snap - the build of a rubber band being held back by Thomas’ fiery imprints, before the pressure was released, and the bounce back hit you hard when he pressed into the place that throbbed with wet need. 

Your body trembled with a softened sigh, the attention you were receiving easily turning your mind to mush, and he had barely dipped below the surface. Thomas’ eyes widened as his movements traced in the same tempo as his heavy breaths, chest thumping and skin igniting with warmth - he was in wonderment at the sounds that he drew from you, the squirming and the delicate fluttering of your lashes. It was a side of you that he was seeing for the first time, that anybody was seeing for the first time, and he felt so damn privileged.

The boy stopped quickly as you grasped at his wrist, big brown orbs looking to you in worry; but it quickly dissipated when he saw your loving ghost of a smile as it perked at your lips, and how you gently pushed him away to be able to remove the final piece of clothing that separated you from him. The cool breeze over your exposed slick provoked a shudder up your spine, a second one eliciting when you realised that Thomas’ flushed face was staring at your most private area.

He didn’t hesitate when his finger dragged back over you, collecting moisture that made your body tick when slathered across your sensitive nub. The pressure increased and you were sinking, melting, dissolving into the sheet beneath you. Your body was heavy, yet you felt weightless, allowing Thomas to take every ounce of control to drive you into ecstatic oblivion. His touch drew slightly down and circled the sensitive hole that was swimming in your pleasure, your breath hitching as his fingertip breached until his first knuckle. The boy’s hair was tugged with a needy grasp, the sheets below him shifting as they were too curled within your other hand. 

Thomas cursed under his breath as he rutted slowly against the side of the bed, his finger beginning to pump as he relished in how you squeezed him. He sighed loudly with a teeth-bitten bottom lip, “You like that?” It was rhetorical by what he saw before him, but he needed the affirmation, to know that you were going to unravel in bliss. And that he was why you were floating in a euphoric daze. You managed a whine in reply, head nodding as words were stuck among your hitching and heavy breaths. The tip of Thomas’ middle finger slightly curled as he shifted his position, and you released a sudden cry after he unknowingly rubbed against your spongey roof. He stopped immediately; scared that you were hurt, his chest tightening with worry until he noticed the cry settling into a moan, and your hips instinctively chased his touch for more attention. 

Thomas was known for being brave - diving in head first, running on pure instinct and spontaneity. He wasn’t one to back down, and now he knew what provoked those sweet wanton sounds of a symphony to escape you, he would do whatever possible to keep it going. He pumped his finger harder, his cock twitching against the bedsheet whenever you clenched around him, that one special spot being harassed over and over again until he swore you stopped breathing. His bravery shone when he inserted his pointer finger, his own throat now paying homage as it growled out a groan of desperation at how you both stretched and tightened. His mind travelled to thoughts of how you’d feel wrapped around his throbbing member, and if he didn’t get himself sorted soon, then he’d be leaving behind a spray of stickiness in his pants.

“T-Thomas…” You panted, hips rising and chest heaving as you felt fire bubble in your abdomen. Your voice cracked at the overwhelming sensation, “More… I need more…” 

He was careful to remove his fingers, but hasty when he rose up your body. Lips found yours instantly, as if by a magnetised force, two pairs that were destined to be slotted together with a taste that you could so easily get drunk off of. He licked between your lips until you granted him access to explore you properly, sliding with juxtaposed delicate hunger, and swallowing your breath and moans until they settled as his own. Thomas was slightly started as your nails dragged down his naked chest, goosebumps trailing in their wake before the elastic waist of his final piece of cotton was being attended to. The need was growing substantially as he pulled back - much to the disappointment of both himself and you, your lips pursed and eyes growing wide as you stared to him with such childlike doeness. 

It was becoming too real now as his hands began to shake, but any doubt was wiped clean when Thomas saw the adoring expression that flushed your face and prompted such a beautiful glint in your eye. You were his, and he was yours. That’s how it was and it’s how it would remain. Thomas was ready to give everything and more to you, as you were to him. Always.

The boy drew a deep breath before his boxers were dropped and he toed them to the side, his body bare in front of you. Thomas was pure - the epitome of a dream, a handsome man with arms that could protect you for the rest of your days. It wasn’t until you looked closer that you properly noticed the scars that showed his true story; both small and large imprints that represented sacrifice, and loss, and success. You lent forward with tentative movements until your fingers danced over the marks, and for a moment Thomas flinched, but easily settled as you traced each one with care. With pursed lips, you pressed against one near his navel; a recent wound that would forever remind you of his escape from death, where a bullet pierced his skin and left him unconscious for days. It was a time when you waited by his bedside without reposition, watching the steady rise of his chest as day turned to night, until he awoke in what would be your rightful Safe Haven.

The thought alone provoked wet tears to coat his lower stomach, and Thomas gently slid his hand into your hair as his thumb soothed you with consistent rubbing motions. Thomas was here with you, he was alive, he was real, he was safe and he was so utterly and completely loved.

It was as if he could read your mind as he cooed against the crown of your head, “I’m here, babygirl. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You showed your understanding with more kisses over more of his scars, until every one had been offered endearment. You sat up further on your knees until you could gaze into his caramel eyes and the shade of burnt honey was easily your favourite; they gleamed especially under the afternoon sun, mesmerising swirls that could drag you to the deepest of depths, and you’d let them. They showed kindness and amusement, but right now, they darkened within the thickness of the room and you could’ve sworn that if given the chance… he would eat you alive, right there and then. Oh, how you wish he would.

But this moment was tentative - shared among inexperience, but budding romance and the strongest desires to be held and cherished. You needed to be closer which is why you kissed Thomas slowly, your lashes brushing against his pink cheeks, and your hands tightly squeezing his shoulders as his hardened cock twitched over your stomach. Flames were still burning brightly in your core and they needed to explode before they could be pleasantly extinguished. 

Your mind was too hazy to recall how your hold shifted to arms sliding around his neck, pulling him further in until teeth clashed and silenced groans were exchanged, and Thomas took it in stride to poke his tongue at every crevice he could before sliding it deliciously over your own. He lowered you to the bed before placing himself between your thighs, your ankles returning behind his back, and two hearts reverberating with slight anxiety against the other’s chest. 

Thomas pulled back slightly as his nose nuzzled with yours, a deep breath taken, “We don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready.” He offered quietly, trying to convince himself that his words were purely directed toward you. 

You smiled; the feeling of his wet and puffy lips brushing against your own as you did. You rubbed your nose back against his, “I’m ready if you’re ready… I love you, I’ll do anything for you, Tommy.” 

The boy chuckled in near disbelief. He knew a long time ago that he'd love you - that you’d take up every thought, every dream. That you’d so seamlessly enter into his life like the need for oxygen, and without you, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. You weren’t just needed or wanted, you were necessary to Thomas, and the love he had for you was unchallenged and indescribable. And now, it was also so incredibly mutual. Not that he had any doubts.

“I love you too, so much.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “So, so much.” 

Thomas’ hips rocked against yours and the desperation was building fast. He thrust once, twice, three times until he was coating himself in your wet slick and it pulled a guttural noise from his throat. There was a time when he felt embarrassed listening to how his friends would recount their sexual experiences, and what they did to their partners, and how good it really felt. Neither of you had gotten to that stage until now, but he was thankful that he listened otherwise he wouldn’t be able to truly experience you.

The boy’s large hands tugged at himself a few times to properly lather himself in your wetness and you couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the package he held, your bottom lip quickly being held captive. You exhaled deeply, eyes widening, voice softening, “A-are you sure that’s gonna fit?” 

He laughed, a sound so sweet, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But…it might hurt, okay?” He huffed into your ear, face buried in the crook of your neck as you pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to his flushed skin, “So you need to tell me when to stop if it gets too much.” You whined, nodding in acknowledgement as Thomas began to line himself up, the head of his sensitive girth meeting your lower lips. But he didn’t push further, taking another deep breath, “You need to say it, please, baby. I need to hear you say it.” 

Instinctively, you ground up against him and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the anticipation grew, “I will, I promise.”

He didn’t need much more convincing as Thomas pushed into you, so incredibly slowly as he savoured how tight you clung to him. Your warmth forced his eyes to roll back and knowing that he was stretching you brought on utter determination. His cock was burying deeper, and deeper, and even he was starting to question now whether he’d fit inside you. Thomas opened his eyes after realising that they were closed, not remembering when he squeezed them shut, and he looked over your scrunched face with a gentle coo. He lifted a hand to your face before his thumb was gentle in pushing out the wrinkle between your eyes, his touch dragging down the curve of your face to cup your cheek. He whispered to you - affirmations and encouragements, reminders of love and pride. 

The lack of reception was a worry that nearly made him stop until you covered his hand with your own, face tilting until you could kiss over Thomas’ palm. You huffed as you were being filled, swearing that you could feel him in your stomach, but the pain would surely dissipate. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” Your mantra repeated like a broken record, getting lost in the heavy panting of your breath, until your back suddenly arched and Thomas had reached the hilt. 

He was already spent as hands braced themselves beside your head, caging you in until all you could see was his kiss-swollen lips and lustful dark eyes checking you for any kind of discomfort. The pressure sucking him into you was a sensation that he could never grow tired of, yet he waited for your face to soften and for the curl of your lips before he was granted permission to finally move. 

It was harmonious when you both sang out in pleasure; the four walls of your hut hopefully thick enough to not draw in any unwanted attention, but at this stage, you could care less about anybody or anything outside of the bubble you and Thomas found yourselves within. His rocking turned to a fastened pace, driven by just how close you both already were to reaching your highs. Hips clashed and lustful sounds echoed as your arms curled under his own and grasped at his shoulders, pulling the boy closer until an inch couldn’t be spared between your sweat-sheened skin. Curses fell from your lips with ease and Thomas relished in the way that he was making you feel, your bodies moving as a single unit as you were pushed and pulled across the bed. 

He nosed your cheek before brushing his lips against yours - not quite a kiss, but a flash of want that was sure to leave behind a burn, and you hoped that the feeling would stay with you forever. He nuzzled into you as he moaned out, “I love you”, his words so sweet in contrast to the near-pornographic moan that followed when you clenched around his cock. It made you rut back against him and meeting his hips halfway was nearly your tipping point. You were chasing after the feeling of ecstasy as it continued to build and continued to run, your arm held out and it was within reaching distance. So close. So close.

You knew you had crossed the finish line when your vision turned to stars; a white light coinciding with delicate heat, your body trembling as you droned against Thomas. You were weightless again - floating in euphoria, your bones melting as you collapsed completely into Thomas and he made sure to hold you against his naked chest with a protective arm across your back. It was the first time you truly felt pleasure and it was perfect.

“You did so well…” Thomas cooed, trying to withstand his own release as he kissed over your temple, his fingers massaging into your spine when he felt a quiet sob escape you. His lips pressed once more, “Just so you know” He started again, his thrusts slowing before he went too far, “You look so beautiful right now.” 

“I’m crying.” You scoffed, eyes scrunching when you pulled back as his cock throbbed from inside you, dragging over the spongey spot that had the potential to drive you to insanity if probed enough. But the feeling was too strong and you were becoming too sensitive. 

Thomas noticed before he pulled out with haste, his tortured girth being fisted roughly within his hand. He took a deep breath, the urge to cum growing nearer as his head threw back and his eyes screwed shut. “You’re beautiful even when you cry.” It wasn’t until he looked at you, the feeling of soft skin cupping his cheeks and your lips slotting against his own, that Thomas finally let go. You swallowed his moans as the boy shook under your grasp; strings of white stick painting his fist and reaching your chest. 

He was the first to break away, the need for air nearly forgotten as he was getting lost in your touch and taste. Thomas’ forehead pressed to yours and his shoulders sagged in absolute content. Your relationship consummated on an entirely different level, and you both had never felt closer to one another. Thomas hummed, his heart rate slowly coming down, yet he couldn’t help but express excitement, “That, fuck… that was amazing. Absolutely amazing.” He grinned as you giggled under your breath, arms wrapping back around his neck, “And you, babygirl.. that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I survived a week in the Scorch.” 

He flinched slightly as you slapped at his shoulder, embarrassment flourishing and your face was hidden as it nuzzled against one of his pecs. The boy continued to rub your back through his tamed chuckles, admiring what he deemed as adorable behaviour, and you acknowledged him with a series of kisses over the damp skin of his chest and an amused tone, “You’re such a dork, Tommy.” 

“I’m your dork.” 

You murmured something incomprehensible against him, followed by a yawn and a satisfied smile. You were worn, in the best way possible, through a moment that would stay with you for as long as life allowed you to keep it. Thomas has saved you in more than one way - allowing you a new lease on life, full of different experiences and emotions, with a promise held in the cusps of forever love. It was a struggle to get to where you are now but you’re glad, no, you’re gratified that it eventually led you to a life with Thomas.

The boy pulled you back to his chest as he squeezed a final hug, his brows furrowing at the feeling of cooling slick between your bodies, a bittersweet end to where love was made, “First things first, I’m gonna have to clean us up.”

[changetyre]

This may be way out there but could we get some Logan smut? TIA!

Need a hand? || Logan Sargeant x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Trying to relieve some stress doesn’t go as planned but you’re not complaining ;)

WARNINGS: **18+**

A/N: First time I write for Logan but somehow got this written in like 30 minutes so let’s see how this goes :)

Being young surrounded by incredibly intelligent people in what could easily be considered one of the fastest paced environments was far more stressful than you’d anticipated

It was a dream, truly. Being able to achieve that goal of working for an F1 team was still hard to believe yet you still couldn’t deny the stress from it all.

Despite this being a smaller team it almost seemed like stress levels were higher or maybe you still simply didn’t know how to handle the chaos of it all but now a days it seemed finding even a moment to breathe was hard enough.

You needed to relieve some stress, it used to work during your stressful school days so why should’t it work now. After hours of work you’d finally been able to get a few hours of somewhat a break that you knew how you wanted to spend.

Finding an empty room in the back of the Williams hospitality you tucked yourself into a hidden corner taking out your trusted little but powerful device.

Lifting your skirt up you raised your knees up to your chest opening yourself up nicely. You tucked your panties to the side taking a deep breath before running your finger down your fold a few times lubricating yourself with your own wetness.

It was embarrassing to admit how wet you’d gotten from the simple idea of pleasuring yourself but it’d been so long since you’d had some time for yourself you were desperate.

After only a few seconds of circling your fingers around your pussy you were prepared enough to press that blue bullet vibrator to your core.

You had to remind yourself to keep quiet as you let out a sigh of relief at that pleasure you so greatly missed feeling.

“Mmm” you quietly moaned as you pressed the device deeper into you. “Uh fuck.” You took a peak past the shelves checking no one was there and you were in fact still alone before you lost yourself in your own pleasure.

Only mere minutes had passed of you running that device around your clit, occasionally pressing a few fingers inside yourself that you’d found yourself in a daze, focused solely on reaching that high you knew would relieve so much stress.

You were so lost in yourself you’d failed completely to notice as the man you worked so closely to walked into the room, curious as to the sounds he heard in his preferred hiding spot Logan was quick to investigate the source of the noise.

A small gasp escaped his lips as he found you sat atop a cupboard legs spread, panties to the side as you pressed something to your clearly wet core, your head fell back onto the wall while your chest arched in pleasure.

Logan knew this was wrong, it was completely wrong for him to simply be staring at you…and further more enjoying it. He knew he should’ve said something already, probably stopped you but quite frankly he didn’t want to.

Aside from these thoughts all he could think about was replacing your fingers with his own and that device with his own mouth.

“Need a hand?” He’d no idea where this new found confidence came from but perhaps the desire for you was enough to make him ask.

You gasped in surprise before your face turned redder than the Ferrari from embarrassment at what you’d just been caught doing. You shut your legs although Logan didn’t fail to miss how the device remained tucked between them, still audibly buzzing.

“Shit I was- I didn’t-“ you had no idea what to say.

“I don’t care…let me help you.” Logan took a few step forwards and was prepared to step away if you showed any sign of hesitancy.

But instead he noticed how with each step he took your legs seemed to open a little wider. “We probably shouldn’t” you spoke but it was such a weak attempt at stopping this that you didn’t even believe it yourself.

“We don’t have to but I’m sure it’ll help us both.” Logan suggested and you could feel his breath tickle your upper lip as he looked down at you.

“I was almost there-“ your voice was barely above a whisper but it didn’t need to be louder with Logans proximity.

“I’ll get you there don’t worry.” Logan smirked before he joined his lips with yours. You could feel as his hand trailed between your legs pressing your own fingers holding the device harder onto your core.

You moaned louder this time but thankfully it was muffled by longs mouth on yours.

"You're so wet." Logan commented as his fingers slid up and down your slit a few times before inserting two fingers inside of you.

"Agh yes-" you moaned a little louder forcing Logan to connect his lips to yours once more.

Logan could feel you were close as you clenched around his fingers and he could feel your wetness running down his fingers and onto his palm every time he curled his fingers in you.

The noises in the room were pornographic, the heavy breaths between you both, the sloppy kisses, and the squelching of your pussy every-time Logan moved his fingers inside you.

This was far better than the relief you thought you'd be getting merely a few minutes ago.

"ah ah Log- Logan I'm cumming." you cried as you felt your high wash over you, harder than it had ever before.

Your body slammed onto the wall behind you causing the shelves around you to shudder slightly as you momentarily lost control of your bodies movements.

Logan moved his fingers slower and slower as you came down from your high, your body shuddering every few seconds with the remainder of pleasure.

"That was fucking hot." Logan smirked as he placed a quick kiss to your lips before sucking his fingers clean as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Thank you." you weren't sure why or if you needed to thank him but it just felt like the right thing to say.

"Pleasure." he winked. "Let me know when you need a hand again" he waved the hand that was just inside you around. "or anything else." he said subtly before walking out the room.

You might just have to take him up on his offer in the future.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Guess We B.A.S

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Top!Cheater!Sunghoon x Bttm!Idol!Cheater!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst (near the end)

Summary: Known as the "Visual Couple," Sunghoon and Wonyoung wow the audience with their connection. Heeseung and Y/n are also in a relationship. Sunghoon calls Y/n for an urgent practice session, and they haves sex in a storage room, as Sunghoon records them.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I wanted to take a break from writing requests and I have been obsessed with B.A.S for so long.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Sunghoon and Wonyoung were MCing an award show together, the "Visual Couple" lighting up the stage with their flawless smiles and palpable chemistry. The audience was captivated, their hearts fluttering with every glance and touch shared between the two. They were the epitome of young love in the K-pop industry, and fans couldn't get enough. Little did they know, the real fireworks were happening backstage.

Y/n and Heeseung were waiting in the dressing room, holding hands and sharing a quiet moment of their own. Their relationship was more of a secret garden, a place of solace amidst the chaos of their celebrity lives. Heeseung leaned in, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, making her blush and giggle.

Y/n gets a message from Sunghoon to meet up in a storage room for a secret practice session for their upcoming collaboration. He says it's urgent and that no one should know. She agrees, and tells Heeseung she's gonna talk to some fellow idols and will be back in a bit. She slips away from the dressing room, heart racing. She opens the door to the storage room and sees Sunghoon standing there, his gaze intense.

"Hey, Sunghoon, what's so urgent?" Y/n asked as she stepped into the dimly lit storage room, her eyes adjusting to the lack of glamour from the outside world. The shelves lined with props and costumes cast eerie shadows on the floor, a stark contrast to the passionate embrace she was about to engage in.

Sunghoon's eyes darkened with desire as he closed the door behind her. "Just something I've been dying to work on," he murmured, stepping closer. Before she could react, his arms were around her waist, pulling her into a fierce kiss that sent sparks flying through her body. She melted into him, her hands fisting in his hair as their tongues danced together. The air was thick with tension, the secret they were about to indulge in only heightening the intensity.

They both knew this was wrong, but the attraction was too strong to resist. They had been playing this dangerous game for weeks now, each stolen moment becoming more addictive than the last. Sunghoon's hand traveled down to cup her ass, squeezing gently as he backed her against a shelf. Y/n gasped into the kiss, her body responding to his touch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

With the door securely locked, they quickly shed their clothes, the sound of fabric rustling in the otherwise silent room. Sunghoon's hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He kissed down her neck, making her shiver, before his mouth found her nipple. She arched her back, pushing herself into his warm embrace, a soft moan escaping her lips. Y/n knew she should feel guilty for cheating on Heeseung, but the pleasure was too overwhelming to think straight.

Sunghoon pulled away for a moment, looking into her eyes with a mix of lust and determination. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He slammed her against the shelf again, pressing his hard length against her thigh. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, and he took it as all the permission he needed. He lifted her onto the shelf, the cold metal sending a jolt through her body, only to be replaced by the heat of Sunghoon's as he positioned himself between her legs.

Their movements were frantic and urgent, driven by the fear of being caught and the thrill of the forbidden. Sunghoon's hands slid down her smooth skin, teasing her wetness before plunging two fingers inside her. Y/n bit her lip to stifle a scream, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. He watched her intently, his own arousal growing as she squirmed and gasped beneath his touch. The sound of their panting and the occasional clang of the shelf echoed in the small space.

"I can't wait anymore," Sunghoon growled, his own need overpowering any lingering sense of propriety. He pulled his fingers out of her, and she felt a moment of emptiness before he replaced them with the tip of his erection. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch, watching her face contort with pleasure. Y/n's nails dug into his shoulders as he filled her completely, and she threw her head back, moaning his name.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm that seemed choreographed, despite the raw, unrehearsed passion behind it. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her, and she could feel her climax building. Sunghoon's eyes never left hers, the intensity of their connection threatening to shatter the walls around them.

Sunghoon got his phone out of his pocket, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. "Let's make this moment even more special," he said, holding it up to record. Y/n's eyes widened with a mix of excitement and trepidation, but she nodded eagerly, knowing the risk was part of the thrill.

He started filming as he began to fuck her with renewed vigor, his phone capturing every intimate detail. The camera caught the sweat glistening on their bodies, their hickeys standing out like a map of their illicit encounters. "You like that?" he asked, his voice gruff and demanding. "Tell me, who fucks you better?"

Y/n could barely breathe, let alone speak, but she managed to choke out a whispered, "Y-ou do~."

"F-Fuck…You're s' much better than Wony," Sunghoon whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. He picked up the pace, the shelf beneath her shaking with the force of their passion. Y/n's eyes squeezed shut, her voice a whimper as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

The camera rolled on, capturing every gasp and moan, every bead of sweat and twitch of their bodies. Sunghoon's hand reached up to pinch her nipple, and she threw her head back, crying out. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the small room, a symphony of lust that only they could hear. Y/n's hand snaked down to stroke herself, her fingertips gliding over her clit as Sunghoon's cock filled her over and over again.

The tension grew, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, and their bodies moving in a frantic dance of passion. Y/n felt the orgasm building, a storm of pleasure that threatened to consume her. She clung to Sunghoon, her nails digging into his skin, her legs tightening around his waist. "Cum for me," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers, and she felt the command resonate through her body.

With a final, powerful thrust, she shattered, her body convulsing around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Sunghoon groaned, his own release following shortly after, his warmth filling her as he record her face contorted in pleasure. They stayed there for a moment, chests heaving, bodies trembling from the intensity of their climax. The room was silent except for their harsh breaths, the only evidence of their passion the soft creaks of the shelf beneath them.

Sunghoon pulled out recording the mixture of both their climax, a smug smile on his face as he watched the video, replaying their secret tryst. "This is going to be our little secret," he said, tucking the phone away. Y/n nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement and a hint of fear. They both knew the consequences if anyone found out, but the thrill was intoxicating.

They quickly dressed, trying to regain some semblance of composure before returning to the bustling backstage area. As they readjusted their clothes, Sunghoon leaned in for one last kiss, his hand lingering on her thigh. "We'll do this again," he whispered, his voice filled with promise. Y/n nodded, unable to resist the allure of their forbidden love.

As they left the storage room, they couldn't help but glance at each other with a mix of guilt and excitement. The secret between them was a heavy burden, but it only served to strengthen their bond. They parted ways, returning to their respective groups with smiles plastered on their faces, hoping no one would suspect their scandalous rendezvous.

Back in the dressing room, Heeseung looked up as Y/n entered, his eyes filled with love and concern. "Everything okay?" he asked, noticing her flustered state. She nodded, playing it off as nerves for the upcoming performance. He pulled her into a gentle embrace, and she melted into his arms, feeling a pang of guilt for the betrayal. But the lie rolled off her tongue effortlessly. "Just needed some air," she murmured, her heart racing.

The days passed, and the secret grew heavier. The tension between the four grew palpable, like a storm cloud on the horizon. Sunghoon and Y/n couldn't help but steal glances at each other during group interactions, their eyes speaking volumes that only they could understand. Meanwhile, Wonyoung remained blissfully unaware, her trust in Sunghoon unshaken.

One evening, after a long day of promotions, Sunghoon decided to send Heesueng a funny vid he had found online. He unlocked his phone, quickly tapped the screen to record a message for his friend, and was about to attach the meme when his finger had slipped. Instead of the intended message, he had unknowingly sent the explicit video of him with Y/n.

Heeseung's phone buzzed in his pocket, a notification lighting up the screen. He pulled it out to find a message from Sunghoon, expecting a meme or a funny joke to lighten the mood. But as he tapped the play button, his eyes widened in horror. The video was unmistakable: Sunghoon's face, twisted in pleasure, and Y/n's body writhing beneath him. The storage room's harsh lighting revealed every intimate detail, every whispered word of betrayal. Heeseung's heart plummeted, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

He watched the entire video, unable to look away, feeling as though he was watching his world crumble before his very eyes. The love and trust he had for Y/n shattered like glass, replaced by a searing anger and a deep, gut-wrenching pain. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, his mind racing with questions and accusations.

Sunghoon's heart stopped when he saw the message notification. He had sent the wrong video. Panic set in as he frantically tried to call Heeseung, but the line went straight to voicemail. He knew he had to fix this, had to explain before the situation spiraled out of control. He rushed to find Heeseung, his mind racing with explanations and apologies.

Heeseung sent this video to Wonyoung and Y/n, his mind a tumult of emotions. The shock of the revelation was like a punch to the gut. How could they do this to him? To each other? He could feel the walls of his world closing in as the reality of their betrayal sank in.

Wonyoung's phone buzzed with the incoming message, and she opened it with a smile, expecting to see the adorable meme Sunghoon had promised. Instead, she was met with the most shocking and heartbreaking sight of her life: her boyfriend and her best friend in a passionate embrace, their bodies entwined in a way she never thought she'd see. Her hand trembled as she watched, tears streaming down her face. She felt as though she'd been stabbed, the pain radiating through her chest.

Heeseung's voice was cold steel when he called Wonyoung, the anger barely contained. "Is this true?" she demanded, her voice shaking."What… what did you send me?"

Wonyoung was crying uncontrollably, the video playing on a loop in her mind. "How could you?" she choked out, her heart breaking into a million pieces. She could feel the walls closing in around her, the air thick with the scent of deceit.

Heeseung's voice was strained, filled with pain and anger. "You need to watch it," he insisted, his own voice shaking. "You need to know what's been happening behind your back."

Heeseung got a message from Y/n, her words pleading and frantic. "Please don't watch it, Heeseung, it's not what it looks like." But it was too late. The damage was done, the video playing over and over in his mind. His hand clenched around his phone, the screen now a window to the most personal and hurtful betrayal he'd ever experienced.

Sunghoon found him first, his eyes wide with panic. "Heeseung, I'm so sorry, it was an accident. Please, let me explain," he stuttered, but Heeseung was beyond words. He just handed his phone over, the video still playing, their secret laid bare.

Wonyoung arrived moments later, her face a mask of devastation. She took one look at Sunghoon and slapped him. "How could you, Sunghoon?" she screamed, her voice echoing through the corridor.

Sunghoon stepped back, his hand on his cheek, the sting of the slap a stark reminder of the pain he'd caused. "Wony, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "It's complicated."

Wonyoung's eyes were pools of hurt, her voice trembling as she spat out, "Complicated? You cheated on me with my best friend!"

Y/n, who had just caught up, looked from Wonyoung's tear-stained face to Heeseung's cold glare, and then to Sunghoon's pleading eyes. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of their combined pain. "It's not what you think," she began, but Wonyoung cut her off.

"Don't lie to me, Y/n. I trusted you," Wonyoung's voice was laced with accusation, her hand shaking as she held up her phone, the damning video still playing. "We all trusted you."

Y/n felt the tears welling up in her eyes, the weight of the situation crushing her. "I'm sorry," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "It just…happened."

Heeseung's gaze was like ice, his eyes narrowed in betrayal. "Don't," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Don't try to justify this."

The air was thick with anger and heartache, the tension palpable as the three of them stood there, their worlds colliding in the worst possible way. Sunghoon looked from Heeseung to Wonyoung, desperation etched on his face. "Please, let me explain," he begged.

But the damage was done. Heeseung's eyes were cold, his jaw clenched tight. "What's there to explain? You've been fucking my girlfriend behind my back," he spat out, his voice laced with venom. "How could you do this to me?"

Sunghoon's eyes darted between Heeseung and Wonyoung, desperation in his gaze. "It's not just about me," he protested, his voice cracking. "Y/n and I—"

Wonyoung's voice was like a whip, cutting him off. "Don't you dare say her name," she spat, her eyes burning with rage. "You're the one who made a commitment to me, not her!"

Y/n's eyes darted between the two, feeling the weight of their pain and anger. She knew she had to say something, to try and fix this mess. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, her voice barely audible. "It's my fault. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Heeseung's gaze never left Sunghoon's face, his anger simmering just below the surface. "You're both to blame," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Wonyoung's sobs grew louder, her body trembling with the force of her emotions. She looked at Y/n, her best friend, the girl she had shared so much with, and all she saw was the person who had shattered her heart. "How could you?" she choked out, the words filled with pain.

Y/n's eyes were brimming with tears as she searched for the right words, but nothing seemed to fit. She knew she had crossed a line, a line that could never be uncrossed. "I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice cracking.

Sunghoon stepped forward, reaching out to Wonyoung, but she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me," she sobbed, her voice filled with anger and hurt. "You're a cheater."

"You two should leave," Heeseung said through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving Sunghoon's. The room was a maelstrom of emotions—betrayal, anger, and pain swirling around them like a tornado. "Now."

Sunghoon looked at Y/n, his eyes pleading, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. She knew she had hurt him too, but she was lost in the tsunami of guilt and fear. They had all been so careful, hiding their secret so well, but now it was out in the open, a festering wound that wouldn't heal.

"Wony," Sunghoon tried again, his voice shaking, "I love you, but I…I can't help how I feel about Y/n."

Wonyoung's eyes flashed with anger, "You had a choice, Sunghoon! You chose to hurt me!" She took a step back, her hand shaking as she pointed at the door. "Get out. Both of you."

Sunghoon and Y/n exchanged a look of despair before turning to leave, their hearts heavy with the weight of their actions. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Heeseung and Wonyoung in the silent room, surrounded by the echoes of their shattered relationships.

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆˙⟡ Enamored ⟡˙⋆

*ੈ Summary: You find yourself awakening next to a familiar Devil, and he has one last contact to offer you.

ੈ Pairing: Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

ੈ Content: Slight NSFW - Fingering - Possessive Raphael - Tender Moment

ੈ Notes: I was inspired to write for Raphael thanks to my dear @octarinecat ♡ ♡ ♡ so here’s a little something something for her!!! And all your other lovely Raphael lovers!!!!

Awakening from your slumber, you slowly stir, your eyes meeting with a much larger body next to you. He looked so at peace while he slept, his mouth partially opened, his hair no longer nice and neat, his usual lines smooth and flat as opposed to the deep ones he wore on his face during the day. Raphael’s face was so close to your own, you could feel his warm breath against your skin. As the memories of last night came back to you, a small smile grew on your lips, your inner thighs twinging with a slight ache from the strenuous activity they went through hours ago…

The first time, the second time, the third... You and your devil- your lover, had tangled your bodies together countless times, your fingers digging into his red satin sheets as your bodies joined in blissful passion and adoration for one another. You had thought he’d be reckless, careless, selfish even…

But you were so very wrong. The way Raphael moved against you, inside you, was the complete opposite of how you had imagined it. His thrusts were so strong, yet so gentle. As if afraid to break you- his little mouse, his newest treasure. His kisses were sloppy, yet so sweet and soft, filled with passion and desire that only you could quench. It was almost like he was trying to make up for lost time… And perhaps, he was. Perhaps this was the first time he had felt true affection from someone else. Your hand a tender touch against his red devilish skin.

Or maybe this was your reward for handing him the crown of Karsus. Maybe, this was what he meant when he said he would grant you a gift. Either way, you did not mind. This was the happiest you had ever felt in such a long time.

Moving slightly closer to him, you lean in next to Raphael, your bare skin grazing his much warmer body.

Raphael, a creature that tournaments and uses others as his pawn, ensnaring souls with his fancy words and contracts. A creature that could care less about the well-being of others, or their emotions. Yet, he showed you nothing but kindness, his words always speaking the truth, his actions always speaking louder than his voice he seemed to love so much. He was a puzzle, one that you wished to solve, piece by piece.

Your fingers trace over Raphael’s features while he continues to slumber, your eyes softening when you watch his arm swing around your waist to hold you. His head nestling into you and you can’t help but to hold his head gently as you caress the crown of horns atop his head.

You were no fool, you knew he was a creature of sin and chaos. But somehow, he managed to draw you in-

“Has my little mouse found herself enamored with a devil?”

Raphael suddenly spoke, a grin spreading across his lips, his eyes still closed.

Your eyes widen as he pulls you closer, your face now flushed a deep red, much like the hue of his skin. You could feel how his tail coiled around your ankle, the tip of it tickling your skin.

You try to form a coherent sentence, but your words caught in your throat not knowing if you should say yes or no.

Raphael chuckled at your silence, his eyes finally opening to look at you.

He was breathtaking.

His eyes, his skin, his voice- his everything was beautiful.

As if reading your mind, Raphael hums, his clawed fingers tracing down your body, making you shiver in delight.

Yes.

You were indeed enamored with him, and he knew.

Raphael’s grin never faltered, leaning forward he placed a scorching kiss upon your lips, his claws slipping from your back to tug the bed sheets that covered your bare form.

And as the sheets fell, his mouth trailed down the valley between your breasts.

And soon enough, his fingers found themselves inside you, curling and massaging your plush walls, his nails slightly scraping against you but not enough to cause harm. The way he pumps his fingers within you bringing you to a state of ecstasy that makes your toes curl.

“Such a sweet little mouse~ Shall I reword her once more?”

His voice was a purr, his mouth hot against your skin.

“Or perhaps... shall I make her mine, forevermore...”

Slowly, he dragged his fingers out from inside you, your slickness covering his thick digits. Gliding his fingers up to his face -his fiendish eyes never leaving yours- he brings them to his lips, his tongue curling around each digit licking them clean before snapping them in the air.

A contract appeared.

A binding contract. One that would allow you to live out the rest of your life with him.

“Do not be mistaken, dear mouse, for once the contract is signed, you shall belong solely to me. You will not wander astray, for your soul shall be bound to mine. No other shall lay a hand upon you nor claim you as their own.”

You could hear the hunger in his voice, his eyes darkening with lust, with greed. You truly would only belong to him. Your soul his to do as he pleases.

Yet, you were not afraid. No, you welcomed him, welcomed the word he had spoken.

Your hands cupped Raphael's face, your body leaning up to place a loving kiss upon his lips, “I do not wish for anyone else... Besides, what’s better than a devil you don’t know?”

Raphael smirks, his hand brushing away the strands of hair from your face, his forehead resting against yours, “A devil you do.”

[lisenberry]

The Mountain Is You

Ch. 1:  I've become a figment of my imagination

Dom!Ghost and Dom!Price x Sub!Reader

I'm making this one official. (Chapter 2!)

CW: Dom/sub, bondage/discipline, pain play, spanking.

Explicit/NSFW/MDNI

Ghost had been the perfect introductory level Dom.  You’d started visiting the office of Life Connect 141 after a referral from a friend, and he’d had many of the qualities you’d been looking for in a partner. 

He was anonymous and discreet.  With his mask on, you never had to worry about bumping into him in the grocery store or bringing your car into the shop and finding out the man operating the nut driver had whipped your ass raw and called you his perfect little dove as you gargled incoherent sounds around his fingers. 

He was quiet, too, and had a way of making you feel comfortable.  His commands were issued in crisp, clipped tones that were easy to follow and get right.  Yes.  No.  That’s it.  Again?   You even heard his voice in your dreams and used it to ground yourself when you needed motivation or a tether to the present.

You replayed your most effective scenes in your mind in the same way you imagined some people pictured the ocean or listened to bird songs.

The pulsing heat of your backside tucked tightly in a pencil skirt, combined with his languid ‘good girl’ echoing through your mind, was enough to make your panties wet in the middle of a board meeting or standing on the platform at the train station.

And his aftercare was more than sufficient.  Although, to be honest, it bordered a bit on the cold side.  Rehearsed in a way that felt like he was only going through the motions.  Counting the minutes before whispering, “That’s my time, hon,” in your ear as he helped you to your feet.

He was there for you, but he didn’t need you.  It was you who sought out his services.  He’d done his job when you left feeling refreshed and confident to tackle whatever chaos awaited you in the world outside his office.  He was a professional, and you were a client. 

He wasn’t cheap, either.  Your self-care budget had taken a backseat to more pressing responsibilities, and it had become more and more difficult to make an appointment.  He’d become quite popular and needed to be booked further and further in advance.  You didn’t always know if you’d be in the right headspace when he was available, but you didn’t want to give up your place in the rotation. 

But it wasn’t for any of those reasons that you called to cancel your future sessions and take your name off the last-minute openings list.  He didn’t do anything wrong.  It was all you.

You’d trusted Ghost, worked up a relationship where he knew what you wanted and gave it to you exactly how you liked it, with a sniper’s precision.  At least until your latest session, when you desired something a bit...more. 

Work, and life in general, had been especially stressful.  A guy you’d started seeing from the gym had turned out to be a complete creep who stood you up on your second date, and spammed your phone for three days when you didn’t accept his apology or his offer to reschedule.  And your assistant had left for an unexpected medical leave and her temporary replacement didn’t know how to answer the phone. 

You were patient.  You were kind.  You were tired.  And now, on top of everything else, you needed to find a new gym.

It’d been a few months since you’d been in to see him, and you were severely overdue.  It was a recipe for disaster that, had you been a more experienced Sub, you may have been able to avoid.  Never go to bed angry?  Never visit your Dom when you were on the edge of spiraling out of control.

You were in your usual position, bottomless with your hands bound with his silk tie behind your back, ass presented to him on the faux leather sofa and your black lace panties in your mouth.  The mirror in front of you gave a view of the mirror behind you.  A 360 degree look at the crimson blood flowing hot under your fevered skin, the Hitachi vibrator strapped between your thighs and the dark figure at your back orchestrating it all. 

Everything was perfect.  Except that with each crack of the leather crop against your tender surface, you didn’t get any closer to the relief you sought.  You’d hit a wall, right on the cusp of that rapture you chased like a fiend.  Like a starving animal running down a faster prey with the last of its strength.

Pain had always been a curious thing for you.  Walking barefoot on the beach, the sharp rocks and shells against the arches of your feet were tactile and exhilarating.  The punishing ache of a deep tissue massage was more satisfying than the gentle glide of hands on your skin. 

There were times your whole body felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch.  That it needed to be flayed off or burned away, grown anew like antler velvet or snakeskin.

When he counted his twentieth whack, and you weren’t there yet, you whimpered with frustration.  The slickness at your core dried up, and the precipice of your orgasm disappeared from reach.  Just as you teetered at the top of the mountain, you slid back down to the bottom with a hopeless crash.

“Color, pet?”  At the unfamiliar sound of your distress, he stiffened behind you and moved quickly to pull the fabric from your mouth. 

“Green,” you pleaded, tears flooding your eyes unbidden. “Please.  Give me a few more.  I was close.”

“We already did three rounds of twenty.  I can’t go any further today.”  He kept his voice hard and controlled.  “Don’t want to scar this sweet, perfect ass.”

He slipped a glove off one hand and reverently grazed his knuckles over your welting hide.

“I’m renegotiating.  Please!”  You weren’t above begging.  Not like this.  Not when your blood ran hot enough to burn and sweat dripped between your breasts in desperation.

“No.”

“You think I’m weak, is that it?  That I can’t take it?”  Your ire sprung from your helplessness.  Not the physical surrender that you’d craved, but the impotent kind that left you empty and unfulfilled.

“Careful, dove.  Talking back to me like that.”  He slid his gloved hand along your cheek to cup your chin, turning you up to look at him.  Deceptively gentle as he gritted through clenched teeth, “You know better, don’t you?”

“What are you going to do about it?”  A fresh flare of anticipation fluttered through your belly, and settled low, where your bare cunt cradled the head of the vibrator.  

Fathomless eyes narrowed back at you with calculation from the openings of his mask.  The skull painted in place of his face sized you up in a fraction of a second before he let his hand fall away.

You squirmed under his scrutiny, clutching the smooth, hard plastic tighter between your thighs, rutting against the only point of contact you had left.  Willing it to be more and feel better than it did.

He sat silent, watching you struggle for what seemed like hours as your shoulders cramped and your knees shook from the constraints of your position.

“Help me?”  You begged again, running your tongue along your pouty lips.  Hungrily eyeing the zipper of his black dress pants.  “I’ll do anything you want.” 

Finally, he fisted a handful of your hair, pulling tight and sharp.  The sting both too brief and too late.

“You know the rules.”  The sympathetic slant of his head and the soft honesty in his tone pulled you out of the scene once and for all. 

You did know.  For all of its merits, Life Connect 141 also had its limits.  It was a business, and it came with strict guidelines.  No sex and no blood.  No exceptions.  Safe, sane, and consensual.  Sanitized and structured. 

Except none of those things were going to get you where you needed to be at that moment.  So, you did something you never thought you’d do.

You tapped out, muttering your safe word and pulling the plug.  He’d never given up on you before, but the clock had run out, and any further discussion was just a waste of his precious time.

The only indication he’d even heard you was a curt nod of acceptance and a clipped, “Alright,” as he untied your hands and rubbed some life back into your arms.

“Dove?”  He was concerned, and probably looking for his own reassurance.

Too humiliated to melt into his thick, tattooed arms, or to accept his offered ice pack for your battered backside, you simply dressed silently and shook him off with a faked smile.

“I’m fine.  Really.  See you next time.”  With not an ounce of truth.

You didn’t know the etiquette for breaking up your Dom, so you were surprised when you got a call barely an hour after you’d canceled.  Thinking it was a last ditch sales pitch to keep you as a customer, you let it go to voicemail.

But instead of a generic, “What can we do to keep your business,” you were greeted with Ghost’s voice instead.

“It’s me.  I’m just sorry that things ended the way they did.”

Why was he apologizing?  You’re the one who'd made a fool of yourself.  Pushing him for things he couldn’t give you.  As if you were more than just a transaction to him.

“I’d like to take you out for a drink.  There’s someone I’d like you to meet.  He can do more for you than I can.  I think you’ll like him.  I wouldn’t trust my best girl with just anyone.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that, even as it curled your toes.  He probably said that to all his Subs.

“Call me back.  Please?  His name’s John.”

[sidechrevans]

shower

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!),smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink (he calls us whores, like three times??) shower sex, wall sex (?), age gap, and more..

important: English is not my first language so there will probably be a lot of mistakes but there is nothing to be done, and it is my first time writing smur so don't attack me!!!

characters: dbf!steve rogers x fem!reader

I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! kisses

Steve Rogers was never as obsessed with a person as he was with you. He vividly remembers the first time he saw you, in that red dress begging to be fuckedYou were like a hurricane, bringing chaos and desire to every breath he took. He knew it was wrong, that you were taking him down a dangerous path, because you were his best friend's daughter, but he couldn't resist. With a penetrating gaze and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. You involved him in your games, in your dark fantasies that scared and excited him at the same time.And that's how you ended up in this current situation, being fucked in the shower by your father's best friend.

Your parents had gone on a trip to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage, and even though you were 20 and completely capable of taking care of yourself, your father asked Steve to keep an eye on you.

“I've been dying to fuck you ever since I saw you in that tiny red dress, you were practically begging, weren't you whore? That's it, isn't it? You just needed a big fat dick in that cherry.”

His hands tried to hold onto the stall in a failed attempt as Steve frantically thrust into you, you could feel his balls hitting yours against your clit as he pushed harder and harder into you…

your breasts jiggled as you were thrust into you. Steve moaned hoarsely, you felt every vein, every tiny vein inside you, the complete sense, his hands held your waist while the hot water ran between the two of you, giving him more access to fuck you hard... you look over your shoulder with some difficulty and then you see him, his hair was messy, some strands stuck together, his mouth was being pressed because he was biting his lips heavily and at the same time making a face.

“FUCK” he moans loudly, starting to move quickly and forcefully, not giving you time to breathe properly... the butterflies were playing with you, his trembling hand even went towards your clitoris when he started to rub it quickly, giving you spasmsHis mouth opened in a wordless moan. The glans hit the depths of his intimacy, making his lower belly burn. You had no idea how many times you had cumHer body shook violently and Steve watched her cum on his dick.

“Tell me, whose little whore are you?” His hoarse voice echoed through the bathroom along with a loud slap, you just swallowed soundlessly when he started moving again.“Stevee” you moaned when he hit that spot, you were already sore“So it’s here? Hmm?" he asked and you moaned in response.

He growled in his ear before pushing his body onto the bed and starting to thrust making you scream in pleasure “Whaaat? Do not handle it? Weren’t you the one thirsty for cock?” laughed while you whimperedYou moaned in a sob when the older man pushed everything in, squeezing your neck with one hand and making you orgasm again in such a short time.Steve withdraws his member and you let out a sly moan.

He soon bends down watching the abused entrance dripping all his cum.Her swollen clitoris pulsed, her breathing was heavy, her legs were wobbly. When you thought it was finally over, he smiles and then goes back into the hot grip in a brutal way, hearing your surprised scream.

[misswynters]

Urban Ties

Aemond Targaryen x reader (modern au)

[WARNING: dark romance, obsession, yandere behavior, kissing, possessive, misspellings?

[synopsis: You are an artist and he is a sailor. He found a new adventure within you, becoming utterly obsessed and devoted to you.

[note l it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

Part of the Dragonblood: Southside Series

song inspiration: The Hills by The Weeknd

The bustling city of Chicago was a world away from the serene coastal towns often romanticized in stories. Its skyline was a jagged silhouette against the horizon, and the waves of Lake Michigan crashed against the shore with relentless force. Amidst the city's chaos, your life as an artist thrived. Your small studio, tucked away in a corner of Wicker Park, was a sanctuary of creativity, filled with canvases depicting the urban landscape's raw beauty.

You first met Aemond Targaryen at a gallery opening downtown. The event was a significant one for you, as you were showcasing your latest series of paintings. The gallery buzzed with conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the murmured appreciation of art enthusiasts.

He stood out even in the eclectic crowd, his tall, lean frame and striking silver hair catching the light. His intense blue eye seemed to pierce through the air, while his eyepatch added a layer of mystery and danger. He was a sailor, or so he claimed, drawn to the city's shores by the call of adventure and the need to escape his past.

You were talking to a potential buyer when you felt his gaze on you. It was a sensation like no other, as if someone had reached into your very soul and grasped it tightly. You turned, and your eyes locked with his. The intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. He made his way towards you with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

"Your work is mesmerizing," he said, his voice deep and smooth, sending shivers down your spine. "It captures the chaos and beauty of this city perfectly."

"Thank you," you replied, trying to maintain your composure. There was something about him that intrigued you, a magnetic pull that you couldn't ignore.

As the weeks went by, Aemond became a fixture in your life. He would visit your studio, watching you paint with an intensity that made you both nervous and excited. His presence was overwhelming, like the pressure of a storm building on the horizon. He was always there, his eyes following your every move, his touch lingering a little too long.

On a gloomy day, as you were finishing a painting, he stood close behind you, his breath warm against your neck. "I can't stop thinking about you," he confessed, his voice a mix of desire and obsession.

"You're all I see, all I want."

His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement through you. You knew there was a darkness to him, a possessiveness that bordered on dangerous, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt toward him.

"You don't even know me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You began to think how in the hell he got into your studio, then you remembered that you always left the door open.

"I know enough," he replied pulling you out of your thoughts as his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I know that you're mine."

Aemond's obsession grew with each passing day. He would call you multiple times, wanting to know where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing. His jealousy was fierce, and his temper even fiercer. Yet, there was a part of you that found his possessiveness intoxicating.

You knew it was wrong, but the intensity of his desire made you feel wanted in a way you had never experienced before. His touch was both gentle and commanding, his kisses both tender and demanding.

The next evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourself alone with him in your studio. The city lights filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Aemond stood close, his gaze fixed on you as he spoke in a low, commanding tone.

"I can't stand the thought of you with anyone else," he said, his voice a growl.

"You belong to me."

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was demanding, almost desperate, as if he were trying to claim you as his own. You responded with equal fervor, your body arching into him, craving his touch.

He pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive hunger. Your breath hitched as he pressed you against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. There was an intensity to his touch, a darkness that both thrilled and terrified you.

"You're mine," he whispered against your skin, his voice a growl. "No one else can have you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the weight of his obsession settling over you like a heavy cloak. You knew this was more than just desire; it was a need, a compulsion that drove him to the edge. As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in his embrace, the world outside your studio fading away.

Aemond's touch was everywhere, his lips, his hands, his body pressing against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

In the quiet moments between the waves of passion, you saw glimpses of the man beneath the obsession. There was a vulnerability to him, a depth of emotion that drew you in even further. You realized that, despite the darkness, there was a connection between you that couldn't be denied.

As dawn broke over the city, you lay tangled in Aemond's arms, your bodies entwined in a sensual embrace. The intensity of the night lingered in the air, a promise of more to come. You knew that being with Aemond was like riding a storm-dangerous and unpredictable—but you were willing to take the risk.

For better or worse, you were his, and he was yours. And in the heart of the city, amidst the chaos and noise, you found a love that was as dark and consuming as the urban tides.

Days turned into weeks, and the intensity of your relationship with Aemond only grew. His obsession with you became more apparent. He would show up at your studio unannounced, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the dark edge to his affection.

"You've been painting a lot of male figures lately," he remarked one afternoon, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

"They're just studies," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Nothing more."

"I don't like it," he said bluntly. "I don't like other men looking at you, even in your art."

You felt a pang of frustration. "Aemond, you can't control what I paint."

He moved closer, his gaze unwavering.

"I can, and I will. You belong to me, and I won't share you with anyone."

His words were a declaration, a vow that sent a shiver down your spine. You knew his possessiveness was unhealthy, but the intensity of his love made you feel alive in a way nothing else could.

The tipping point came one night when you decided to attend an art show alone. Aemond had been away on a trip, and you needed the space to clear your mind. The event was a chance to network and showcase your work, but it was also a temporary escape from his overwhelming presence.

The evening was going well until you felt a familiar gaze burning into your back. You turned to see Aemond standing in the doorway, his expression a storm of emotions. He crossed the room in long strides, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"I needed some space," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm. "It's just an art show."

"It's never 'just' anything with you," he said, his hand gripping your arm. "You think you can hide from me? You think you can escape?"

His words were a mixture of accusation and desperation, his grip on your arm tightening. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a tense standoff.

"I'm not trying to escape," you said, your voice shaking. "I just needed some time alone."

"You don't get to decide that," he said, pulling you closer. "You're mine, and you'll always be mine."

That night, back at your apartment, the tension between you reached a boiling point. The argument was fierce, emotions running high as you both tried to assert control over a relationship that had become a battleground.

"I can't live like this," you said, tears streaming down your face. "I can't be with someone who tries to control every aspect of my life."

Aemond's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior.

"I don't want to lose you," he said quietly. "I can't lose you."

"Then you need to trust me," you replied, your voice trembling. "You need to let me have my own life, my own space."

He looked at you for a long moment, the intensity of his gaze softening. "I don't know if I can do that," he admitted.

"Then we'll never work," you said, feeling a pang of sorrow. "Love isn't about possession, Aemond. It's about trust and respect."

For a moment, it seemed like he might relent, like he might understand. But then his expression hardened again, and you knew that the darkness within him was too strong to overcome.

Despite the arguments and the possessiveness, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward Aemond. There was a part of you that craved his intensity, his dark, obsessive love. It was a dangerous dance, but one that you couldn’t seem to step away from.

One night, as you lay in his arms, you felt a sense of acceptance wash over you. This was your life now, for better or worse. Aemond’s love was fierce and consuming, and you knew that it would never change.

“Do you ever think about the future?” you asked softly, your head resting on his chest.

He was silent for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I think about you,” he said finally. “You’re my future.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and desire. You knew that being with Aemond was like riding a storm—dangerous and unpredictable—but you were willing to take the risk.

For better or worse, you were his, and he was yours. And in the heart of the city, amidst the chaos and noise, you found a love that was as dark and consuming as the urban tides.

[a/n: I didn’t want to make every fic of mine with smut so here is one that is more on the less detailed sensual and intimate side

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @spn-obession @beebeechaos @lastofherkind00 @diannnnsss @thebenjiblackwoodexpress @maryldrsstuff

banner: @cafekitsune

[a-roguish-gambit]

The Mini Mutants could be the scenario for either a Mojoworld episode/storyline (The outerspace TV executive Mojo traps the X-Men in a TV show with mischiefous pocket versions of themselves) or an Arcade episode/storyline (The villain Arcade creades a videogame staring mischiefous pocket versions of the X-Men... and the catch is that they jump from the game to real life and now our heros have to deal with them).

Oooooo both are great ideas! However I had a separate idea for their origins.

An experiment for Mr. Sinister to isolate mutant essence for himself so he could use dna from other, in his opinion “less desirable” mutant specimines (ick) went wrong. For him. These little cuties are the result. And after some….mishaps….they have escaped from him and are now the X-men‘s problem.

Stay tuned to see what chaos they create!

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Twenty)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

TW: Description of blood and injury (not in a sexual context)

Content: Both Miguels are rutting (literally), Readers in heat, Dry Humping, Involuntary Orgasm, Rough PinV sex, Breeding kink, Biting, Voyeurism.

Notes: Alright you horndogs here's the most isosceles triangle you're gonna get outta me

Word count: 3,800

Miguel fell through the portal right as Mig dove in at his back. In the chaos he failed to calculate his exit and hit the floor hard, with the impact sending him flying into your limp body and skidding to a halt by his desk.

Mig hit the floor and rolled until his body slammed into the far wall, temporarily rendering him too stunned to move.

For a minute or so all you could do was breath. The office was filled with the echoes of panting, of whining, of sad, desperate little moans. It was unbearably tense. The urge to descend into primal chaos was dangling on a tether of momentary exhaustion, but that rope could snap at any moment.

A little will, a little tip of desire, and it would break.

You were the first to move. You managed to haul yourself up onto your elbows, and there you were met with the sight of Miguel doubled over in pain.

You were disgusted by your body’s instinctive curiosity. You hated the way your eyes fixated on those familiar traits; the dark hair, that sharp face, those sloped shoulders. You could see him erection straining painfully beneath the suit.

You looked away. You refused to give in, not while your right mind still knew, deep down, that something about this whole scenario was horribly wrong. You swallowed hard, and with those trembling wet little lips, you spoke.

‘How did you know?’ you croaked.

Miguel groaned at just the sound of your voice. ‘Uhn…. Ah—’

‘How… how did you, know—’

‘I was watching’ Miguel blurted in confession. He was bent like a man in prayer. ‘I- I knew, it would go wrong, or—I was waiting for it to go wrong, but not—not this wrong, I swear, I—f-fuck it hurts— por favor, haz que pare—’

‘Why… why, why?’ you pleaded. ‘What the, fuck—Why?!’

‘I’m sorry!’ Miguel blurted. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—’

He turned as he spoke and caught your eye, noting the way you were trembling on the floor. His pink eyes glowered. For just a moment, his breath came a little faster. All he could see was that night, the night he watched you strapped down to the floor as you were mercilessly fucked by a monster that looked like him.

That tight web, squeezing fat into perfect little mounds, those noises, that release.

It was torturous. His mind kept merging his memory and fantasy, using it to spur him onward. It wanted to see you on the end of his shaft.

In a desperate bid to rid those thoughts he bit his hand, sinking his teeth beneath the skin. You startled at the pained groan he released.

‘Wh… what are you—ah—!’ You doubled over again as your insides throbbed and clenched.

When Miguel released his hand, he looked defeated. The moment the pain was gone his mind went back; back to you, back to that memory, back to his own unsatisfied body.

‘I…. I didn’t, I didn’t… I didn’t, want…’ That potent aphrodisiac in his brain continued to swell, filling his mind and body was a physically painful urge. He involuntarily hissed. ‘I can’t, stop…’

He could feel his mind was slipping. He saw you physically dragging yourself away from him, crawling on your belly. The denial was too much for him to handle.

‘Get away’ you whimpered.

‘I- I won’t, hurt you’ he said. His whole body throbbed and he nearly doubled over. ‘I swear, I just- it hurts, but I won’t, I won’t—I don’t, want to hurt you— I don’t want HIM to hurt you—’

‘Why should I believe that?’ you cried back. Miguel was silent for a moment.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’ he whispered, the last few words he could speak on the verge of disappearing. ‘I don’t. I swear. But I do. I keep… hurting people. And I don’t know—why—he wouldn’t, do, the same—’

‘Enough.’

A dangerously low hiss was reverberating through the empty office. You watched as Miguel slowly dragged his eyes away from your body, and over to the cause of the noise.

Mig was crouched against the floor, his legs spread and his claws out. His eyes were glowering a dangerous pink from the pollen.

‘You… You set us up?’ Mig hissed. Miguel didn’t respond.

The pollen was infecting them down to the bone, drawing out the ugliest and most primal parts of their biology. Their spider brains would not be satisfied with just sexual relief. They were filled with the desire to fight.

‘You’re me’ Miguel spat. His hackles raised as he shifted towards his counterpart. ‘And I’m not… good.’

‘Oh, you were right.’ Mig slowly rose up and tapped his paws, an obvious territorial display. You could hear his claws tapping on the hard metal, his body shaking with a disdain you'd never seen in him before.

It seems your quiet, comforting support was no longer enough to keep his anger suppressed. 

‘I’m not good. Not all the way, not anymore. Because of you. Because you, have taught me, how to hate something.’

Mig continued to slowly creep towards you as well. You were right between the two of them, your body ethereally lit by the one beam of pale blue light shining down from above.

‘All I wanted, all I did, was try to exist, and you have made my life hell for it. And still, still, I tried to be nice to you. I tried to talk to you, and all you did, was PUSH me, and then act like I was the monster for reacting. I am, done. I do not care, anymore, about your internal problems, your—suppressed, inadequacy. I do not care, even, that you eyed up my mate because of your own lack of moral standards. I can look past that. But you, put them, in DANGER! You—’

In the middle of Mig’s speech, in the middle of you crawling, you were brought to an abrupt halt. Something had gripped you by the ankle. When you turned, you were horrified to see Miguel’s hand wrapped around it. His face was contorted with pain.

‘You…. Put them in danger too’ he panted, hard, his breath condensing in the air. ‘Neither of us, deserves this. Deserves them. Deserves—to be here— I see that now—’

 Mig visibly growled with rage, his maw widening as his eyes turned black and pink. His next words were spoken in a horrifyingly gravelly tone.

‘I am not, you. I am NOT, YOU! And that, is the end of my fucking line, cabrón. They are mine, they chose me, and YOU, are the one not fit to be here!’ Mig seethed.

You squeaked as Mig’s clawed hand came down on your back. He tugged at your suit, dragging you beneath the rustling cage of his spider legs, but Miguel didn’t entirely lose grip on your ankle. You moaned outload as his claws sank down, squishing your flesh between his fingers.

‘Well then you better stop me’ Miguel spat back.

It was a double-edged statement, one carrying multiple meanings. It was a threat, yes, but a pathetic plea as well. Miguel knew that he would lose control of himself, and before that happened part of him wanted to be stopped.

He wanted it to be over. He just couldn’t admit that out loud.

Mig drew back his lips and spat venom to the floor. They both dropped their hold on you. ‘Oh, I will’ he seethed.

You shrunk down a little as the two began to circle, pacing like sparring cats on the brink of a fight. You could hear the low clicking in Mig’s throat, the rhythmic tapping of his paws. He began to rustle his abdomen.

‘You…. Clearly… didn’t get the point, the first time, that I made it’ Mig panted.

Miguel lowered himself down to match Mig’s stance. He was on all fours, his claws extended and tensed. Mig bared his teeth.

‘So I will make it… again… for the last time.’

The two launched at each other right over your shaking head.

There was an immediate clash of teeth and claws, one that was horrifying to hear. The smashing of fangs, the cracks, the clacking, the scraping of talons, it was overwhelmingly loud.

It was obvious that they were not fairly matched. Despite claiming that they were the same, Miguel was weak compared to his giant doppelganger. He was no match for his size, his raw power, his muscled arms bursting with veins.

Miguel tried to make up for his smaller stature by clawing at the vulnerable parts of Mig’s belly, but the thick fur was impossible to penetrate with just one swipe. For every one hit Miguel gained Mig would get one of his wrists with the claws on his forelegs, temporarily forcing him back.

Chunks of thick blue fluff covered the floor as Miguel tried to rip deeper, and in turn his blood began to splatter against the tiles.

You winced as Mig threw Miguel into his desk, physically smashing his monitors to pieces until they sparked and exploded. You watched Miguel swipe at him with his elbow blades only to have Mig grab them in his jaw and fling Miguel into a distant wall.

With Miguel out of the way Mig paused to breath, his chest heaving with each pant. The respite allowed the red mist to part, yes, but it also allowed the pink mist to take its place, and as his eyes re-focused they zoned in on you.

He felt the pollen intoxicating his blood, overtaking his mind. Soft little aranita. Handsomely made, perfectly sculpted, his flesh and blood love. His mate. His prime breeding material.

Like a panicked animal he ran to your side.

‘M-Mig—’

You reached out and were pinned to the floor in seconds. His lips crashed into yours with such force that they bruised, ravenously smearing you in venom and saliva as his tongue went down your throat. You welcomed the release with all the passion your body could muster.

‘Uhn—mm— Need to—breed you, now—’

You clawed at each other, just as he’d clawed at Miguel. His forelegs grabbed your waist and your nails went into his back. You dragged them until he was raw.

Unable to contain himself any longer Mig allowed his erect phallus to slip out, and with your hands and his working in messy unison you tried to tear your suit apart.

Anything to make the ache stop. Anything for relief.

‘Please’ you whined, ‘please- please, mm—’

But Miguel wasn’t done.

In the middle of you desperately grinding at each other, Miguel launched himself at Mig’s side. The fight was the only relief he could get.

As they collided they began to snap at each other, butting heads and tearing skin, but they couldn’t be parted from you either. Their bodies demanded too much.

You were nearly crushed between the two as Mig continued furiously, impulsively grinding his enormous shaft down against your inner thighs while trying to keep Miguel at bay, who himself was trying desperately to get any stimulation.

‘Please—’ Miguel rasped, his eyes burning pink, ‘give—me—’

They rolled and suddenly met with your body sandwiched between them, their heads pressed together around your neck, and there they continued their furious fight.

Your senses were bombarded. You smelled the sweat, the metallic hit of blood, the stench of musk and pheromones and damp fur. Their teeth clashed barely a cm away from your cheek, as clawed hands brushed your body before gripping at the other.

The weight was suffocation, almost claustrophobic. You felt flesh crushing you from your chest to your thighs, compounding you until it was hard to breath.

You should have been afraid. Instead, you were soaking. Despite your fear, your confusion, you were unbearably horny. Your torn suit was embarrassingly dripping with slick, and in the haze you were barely coherent.

‘Mig—ah—’

Between the crushing weight of both men, with Mig’s bulbous member frantically grinding on your painfully swollen clit and Miguel at your rear, your body reacted against your will and shuddered into the most potent climax.

Your screams drew the two to a temporary pause.

It was a fatal mistake for Miguel, to freeze and indulge in those sweet sounds, in the feel of you shaking against him, as it gave Mig the chance to push him back.

The larger spider got a handful of his hair and threw him back across the slippery floor before pinning you down.

‘MINE!’ Mig seethed.

Miguel caught himself with his claws and panted. He couldn’t win, but he also couldn’t stop. Waves of shame and relief washed over his body.

With a violent scream he dug his claws into the ground and furiously ran on all fours at his enormous opponent.

He tried to slide beneath Mig’s body, hoping to claw his soft belly, but he underestimated how fast Mig was.

As his body slid across the smooth floor he was punched in the gut by one of Mig’s legs. He wheezed, his body thrown off by the impact, and as he rolled into Mig’s other legs the giant spider wrapped them tight around his body. He rolled himself with Mig gripped to his belly, and easily pinned him down to the floor with such force that it cracked.

The force knocked the air from the bruised man’s lungs. For a moment, he faltered.

There was blood and spit all over the floor, coating the darkness like an abstract painting, a cascade of glittering rubies and pearls. In the corner you were shaking.

‘Mig’ you panted. Miguel slowly raised his shaking hands, and while he managed to dig his claws into Mig’s arms, he wasn’t strong enough anymore to push him away.

‘You are not, me’ Mig murmured. ‘Not, me.’

Miguel continued to fight as his larger counterpart held him to the floor. Mig strained his arms, pushing against him, and with shaking extremities he managed to fire a web at Miguel’s hand. He stuck one against the floor and grabbed him by the throat.

‘This… is… it’ Mig hissed, his spittle hitting Miguel on the cheek. ‘They are mine. I have been pushed—far—ENOUGH!’

Mig opened his mouth, revealing his fangs now dripping with venom. Miguel’s eyes widened.

Oh no. The spider was going to bite.

Instinctively Miguel began to squirm. He fought, he kicked, he scraped. He used everything he had.

But as he fought, and squirmed, and scraped for freedom, he caught a momentarily glimpse of something behind Mig’s head. He looked up and saw the reflective ceiling above.

For just a moment, the red and pink mist parted. He saw himself.

He saw his bloodshot eyes and his violent expression, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a violent sneer. In that distorted reflection Mig’s body looked like his own. It looked like everything he was afraid of. The inside on the outside. The monster. The creature more spider than man. The body he inhabited against his will, which he fought against every day to be what he wished he could be. To be good.

And Mig? He looked like what he thought he was. The bare back and head of a bruised, exhausted man, defending all that he had.

It was slow, but Miguel began to relax his limbs. His body wanted to fight. It wanted to sink its claws and teeth into his opponent, it wanted to tear him limb from limb, but in his right mind he saw himself. He knew he had to be stopped.

He stopped fighting, and in that moment of stillness, Mig bit him. He sank his fangs into Miguel’s neck and let the venom pool into his blood.

The sound Miguel made was like a strangled animal, a low rattle of a moan that echoed through the office and beyond. He spasmed a little as it took hold, his hands clawing at Mig’s back. He felt his hot breath steaming from his nose as he sank his teeth deeper.

The venom took hold quickly, and Miguel felt his hands beginning to lose their grip. His hands slid down before dropping meekly to the floor, and with a final whine, Miguel gave up.

With Miguel’s body now paralyzed Mig withdrew. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared down at his counterpart. Miguel had closed his eyes, but his chest was slowly rising and falling. He was alive.

Mig rose to his feet and abandoned his other half to the cold, hard floor. The venom would wear off around when the pollen did.

He made his way to you instead.

You were cowering by yourself, shamelessly rubbing your thighs together for any kind of relief. Even now it was all you could think of. As Mig approached your felt your body’s instinctive craving for him.

‘Mig I’m sorry—I couldn’t, control it, it—it hurts—’

‘I know. I know, aranita. It’s okay.’

He knew he should leave, but the urge to take you right then are there was too overwhelming. He was pumping with blood, with adrenaline and pheromones. He couldn’t make it back to your nest, not like this, and neither could you.

He grabbed the nape of your suit with his fangs and lifted you into the air.

‘Mm... Mm.’

With a grunt he swiped everything on Miguel’s desk aside before dropping you onto the smooth metal surface. In seconds he was on you. He thrust you down and began spinning web to keep you in place, tying your burning body down with that thick, sinewy silk.

You welcomed him as he grabbed your suit and ripped it in twain with his claws.

‘M-Mig, please—’

‘Come here.’

He grabbed the loose suit around your crotch and tore, leaving you bare. He pushed his rustling abdomen between your legs.

‘Come here’ he repeated. His mouth was dribbling venom at an alarming rate. ‘Come here, come here—’

You felt his fur brushing and sticking to your sweaty skin, utterly consuming your naked flesh as he mounted the desk and you with it. His breath hit your forehead.

‘Ah—I will, mate you now, okay? A-And then, we will go home. But… I need you… now—’

With a rough grunt he pushed as much of his cock inside you as he could, the smooth red flesh squishing in before expanding and utterly stuffing your cunt. It was plush, thick and hard but squishy in texture, allowing it to utterly invade every inch of your insides.

You both let out the same gasp for air, the same moan of utter and overwhelming relief. It was like emerging from the sea on the brink of drowning. Your lungs ached, your body was hot and shaking, but he had you. He was inside you. Each little pulsing vein was a lifeline.

‘There’ Miguel whined. ‘There, there—shh, I’ve got you. You’re mine now. You’re mine—’

He couldn’t bring himself to pause; the moment he felt that creamy cunt clench him, he started thrusting. Every black vein on his shaft was pulsing violently as it pumped and slipped, your combined slick quickly creating a messy puddle on the desks smooth surface.

Your frantic, jumbled, screaming filled the room, as did his abrupt move into grunting.

‘Uhn—uhn- uhn—’

His claws sank into the metal beside your head with terrifying ferocity. He peeled it back like butter, tugging on it until he was physically slamming you against his cock. You took it all.

Your eyes rolled back as you were used, as you were relieved from your own burning agony by that sweet, sweet, dripping wet cock, by your sweet and equally terrifying mate.

‘Uhn—uhn—uhn—!’

You squeaked as Mig’s forehead hit yours. You could feel it moving as he continued to pump.

‘Ah… mine’ he panted. ‘Mine, mine, MINE—’

‘Y-Yours—’

The desk began to creak and groan under the stress of his enormous body. He bent it further.

‘Mine—Mine!’

His forelegs dug into your waist with a sharp pinch, holding you taut so he could pump in harder.

You could hear what sounded like the wet, lurid motion of sucking as he moved inside you, mixed with the violent muffled clapping of skin on fur as he rutted between your legs.

You looked down, your neck shaking, and you caught a glimpse. He’d spread your hole nearly twice the size it should be spread. You were gaping, clenching to take him as it moved in and out. That fat, plush, red and black shaft was glimmering with copious strings of sticky fluid. You watched the bulge moving in your belly and fell back with a whine.

You were utterly broken by him. He was practically punching his cock at your cervix with each thrust, bending your spine until it ached. You clawed your little nails into his back and screamed.

You lost yourself in that sea of sensation.

Grunting. Pulsing. Slamming. Squeezing. Clenching. Pleading.

Smacking skin, panting and mewling, covered in spit and slick and cum, covered in blood and sweat and seed.

Oozing. Squelching. Screaming. Filling.

‘Let me breed you’ Mig pleaded, his mind utterly consumed by his own basic rutting needs. ‘Let me breed you, let me—fill you—NOW—’

Mig sped up one final time and unloaded hard inside you. You squirmed as you were stuffed, as your cunt expanded beyond its limits to fulfil his needs only to start oozing the excess down your trembling thighs. Your nails left permanent marks on his rippling back as he thrust load after load after load.

On the floor, just a meter or so away from this debaucherous display, Miguel lay in the dark, and he listened. What else could he do?

He knew, truly, that this was rock bottom. This was it. He’d been humbled, at last, in a way that never should have happened.

All he could see now, in his minds eye, was the reflection of his blood-stained face in the ceiling. Was that what you saw? Was that what, everyone saw?

He closed his eyes and silently relished the noise of what he craved so bad. He knew it would be the last time he allowed himself to do it.

He lay in silence as Mig reluctantly pulled out and sealed you up on the desk. The rut, the heat, it wasn’t over yet, but he’d satisfied it enough to get you home. He would mate you in his own nest, safe, away from this chaos.

Mig grabbed you by the nape again, clutching your limp body in his maw, and after pulling up a portal back to his own universe he walked over Miguel to reach it.

The man lay in the sudden silence, lying in the physical mess he’d made, the audio-visual manifestation of consequence. He let out a low whine.

He was never coming back from this.

Link to next part

[slytherinshua]

TROUBLEMAKING

genre. fluff. warnings. ryo and his endless pranks. pairing. ryo x fem!reader. wc. 684. request. requested by @blue-jisungs, here. a/n. ryo being a little shit 24/7 was actually such a plot twist (by tws) for me when watching more nct wish content lmao but he's so cute for it he drives the older members crazy 😭😭

“Where’d the light pink go? I swear I had it next to the eraser…” 

Ryo had to fight back a mischievous grin at your confusion. The pink coloured pencil was tucked safely in his back pocket, but you didn’t need to know that. He had felt a bit bored today, and the desire to pull a small prank on you had developed in almost an instant.

Sure, drawing with you was relaxing and all. Ryo loved to see what you would create. He always got giggly when you decided to draw him. You were quite good at drawing, often leaving your boyfriend in admiration, falling even more in love with you just from the sight of your doodles. But he was in the mood for a little chaos. Peacefully drawing with his girlfriend seemed insipid.

“Maybe it’s still in the case?” Ryo suggested innocently, humming along to the music you had put on. He was awfully good at looking like an angel who could absolutely do nothing wrong, but in reality, he fit the description of a little troublemaking demon. You didn’t think anything of it, picking up a slightly darker shade of pink for now.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick.” You told your boyfriend after another 10 minutes. He nodded at you, his brain scheming something new as he watched you drop your sketchbook on the floor and walk out of the room. Without a second wasted, he grabbed the paper and a red coloured pencil. 

By the time you were walking back into the room, you could immediately feel that something was off. One glance at your drawing made your head snap over to your boyfriend’s figure, innocently erasing some pencil marks on his paper. 

“What happened to my drawing, Ryo?”  

The boy shrugged, blinking up at you with wide eyes. You caught the slight smirk he was holding back, though. Picking up the drawing, now adorned with red devil horns and a ferocious dragon in the corner terrorising your peaceful countryside landscape, you glared at your boyfriend. Ryo couldn’t help but giggle a bit at your look, knowing that he couldn’t deny his involvement.

“I just made it a bit more interesting!” Ryo declared.

You stared at him then back at the paper. The drawing had been going so well. The trees and flowers you had added were some of the best you had ever done, and your perspective on the little farmhouse had finally looked accurate. You usually struggled the most with perspective and angles, and you were devastated at seeing the messy red pencil marks all over your perfect drawing. A frown started to form on your face and your lip jutted out in a pout.

“It was one of my best drawings…” You sunk to the floor, shoulders sagging in defeat. You wouldn’t cry over it, but the disappointment and frustration you felt was overwhelming. Ryo held almost all of your admiration, but times like these made you wonder why he was doing this to you.

“I’m sorry- I should’ve asked before ruining it.” Ryo said softly, scooting closer to you on the floor. “Do you want to ruin mine in return?”

You looked up at Ryo’s drawing that he offered you, a small smile slowly replacing your pout. He had drawn a portrait of you. It wasn’t the best ever, but it was adorable. He had added a bunch of hearts around you and text on your shirt that said ‘best girlfriend in the world’. 

“No, I’m not mean like you.” You teased, now showing him a bright smile. 

Ryo pouted, “I won’t do it again. I promise!” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, “You would without even thinking twice.”

He grinned, “Guilty.” 

Though you had already forgiven him for ruining your drawing, that didn’t stop you from reminding him about it throughout the day in order to get free kisses. He knew exactly what you were doing— using his guilt for your own benefit— but he obliged in your want for kisses without complaining. Kissing you was always a win in his book.

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyujs,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy