#And part of him is just relishing in the feeling of that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyhoon · 3 days ago

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i see you (always, forever). - l.hs

synopsis. following your ex boyfriend’s sudden disappearance, lee heeseung seemingly enters your life at the perfect time.

pairing. stalker bf!heeseung x fem reader

genre. dark romance, smut, light humor.

word count. 6.1k+

warnings. swearing, obsessive behavior, stalking, brief mention of drink spiking (doesn’t actually happen), mention of alcohol consumption, person held in captivity, mention of past infidelity, extremely brief mention of childbirth, smut [ consensual somno, oral (fem receiving), p in v, sex toy usage ]. this fic contains dark content and is not at all how i view these idols. minors and ageless blogs dni. 18+ content read at your own discretion.

featuring. hwang yeji & shin ryujin (itzy)

a/n. happy valentine’s day babies!! wanted to do something cute and light but i fear it just wasn’t working out … so this right here is for my dark romance girlies hehe enjoy! drew inspo from the television show “you”! shoutout to bae @yangkkomi for beta reading

Lee Heeseung has the worst case of separation anxiety when it comes to you.

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts.

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you.

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

As if the answer was obvious, Heeseung raises a brow as he responds, “I’m giving her privacy, pervert.”

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #heeseung imagine #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop smut #sleepyhoon

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artemisiasmuse · 2 days ago

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rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

#Spotify #rafe cameron #artemisiasmuse #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron hard thoughts #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe

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muqingslover · 2 days ago

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[ i might not be the biggest Sylus stan out there but the amount of times I've seen him being portrayed as some dark novel alpha daddy is actually outrageous. So, I'm here to give y'all Sylus fans what I believe would be more accurate. ]

What it means to be loved by Sylus

This man would never raise his hand towards his partner. He waited centuries to have you by his side, the very person who taught him how to love, how to live and not just survive. How could he even consider intentionally hurting you?

Sylus is someone who takes care of everything he considers his.

If your feet are aching then he will happily carry you in one arm while the other hand holds your high heels. In fact, if he could, he'd carry you everywhere if it meant always having you in his arms.

Being Sylus' partner means being treated like royalty. If you want something then it's yours. And not only that, it's always the best of the best.

He genuinely enjoys being able to provide for you and watching you live comfortably gives him the best feeling in the world.

Although he is a tease, he wouldn't use hurtful words on purpose and if he noticed something he said upset you he'd always apologize. He's a prideful man, but he will always choose you over everything else, including himself.

Even in his playful remarks about how 'you love him too much to leave', he silently hopes you will reassure him that that's true. He prays, to whoever will listen to an old dragon's pleas, that you keep wanting and needing him by your side as much as he needs you by his.

Being loved by Sylus means being cared for as if you're made out of glass when no one is looking, most of the times not even you. How his knuckles will gently brush the skin of your bare back before moving towards your cheek, his fingers caressing your face while he silent relishes the feeling of you sound asleep next to him. Those small, simple moments are to him the most precious ones.

His sweet heart is so incredibly worried every time you feel under the weather. His large hands would hold your face as if you'd shatter if he wasn't careful as he softly asked you to talk to him. The sight of your tears is enough to make him feel as if he's being ripped apart and he truly hopes you know he's there for you, forever and always.

Learning about what you enjoy so he can be a part of it even if it doesn't fit him at all is all worth it as long as you keep smiling for him. At him.

Sylus is a romantic and gentle partner. He is for those who want to be pampered and reassured that they'll always be the only one for him regardless of eventual fights or time without contact.

#Sylus is a lover boy #and i stand by that #i seriously post too much damn #lads x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lads #lads fluff #sylus x reader

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cameronsbabydoll · 2 days ago

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VALENTINE’S DAY WITH STEP-BRO RAFE CAMERON

WARNINGS — stepcest, nipple sucking, fingering, rafe sorta takes advantage of readers emotional statebut she does consent, p in v without any protection. MDNI 18+

Rafe paced up and down the aisle of the store, his piercing blue eyes darting from one cheesy heart-shaped chocolate box to another.

He knew his stepsister had just gotten dumped by her shitty ex-boyfriend. The vision of his stepsister moping around Tannyhill with tear-filled eyes, clutching onto some stuffed animal their ex got them, made him grit his teeth and a little turned on.

They love cute little girly things, right? I should probably get her something pink or whatever, Rafe thought as he searched through the Valentine’s Day gifts.

Rafe walked down the aisle and to the checkout with a cart filled with abnormally large stuffed animals, loads of sour candy and chocolate, and some random face masks that looked cute.

As Rafe approached the front door, he took a sharp, deep breath before opening it and walking into a weirdly quiet house. Rafe stood in the entrance before he finally heard soft sniffles coming from the couch; he dropped the bag of candy and chocolate on the coffee table before meeting her teary eyes and flushed pink cheeks. God, they look so cute when they’re sad and shit, Rafe thought with a light chuckle before changing his expression back to the concerned older brother look.

“Hey, uhh… uhm, what are you doing?” Rafe stopped his question, realizing the stupidity of it. “Right, uhm, I got you something; it's sort of stupid, but...” Rafe handed the bag of sour candies, chocolate, and last but certainly not least, the large teddy bear.

Rafe felt his eyes widen as he noticed the way his little stepsister was looking at him; maybe he was in his head, but he couldn’t help himself.

Rafe found himself moving closer, looking directly in her eyes. “Fuck, I’m not leaving, alright? Not going to leave you to be all sad today.”

Something felt out of control, and it felt so wrong, but that didn’t stop Rafe from reaching his hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her lower lip, and then with a low groan, he pressed a long, rough kiss on their lips. He kissed her like a starved man, almost as if he was trying to consume them and make them part of himself.

Rafe’s heart raced as he felt her melt into his kiss, their soft curves fitting quite perfectly against the hard planes of his body. He nipped their bottom lip, tugging on it gently, “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you? Tempting me constantly like this?” He groaned as he punctured each of his words with deep, hungry kisses, swallowing their gasps of pleasure, relishing the way it felt against him.

He squeezed the soft flesh of her body, reaching down to feel the damp heat at their core. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me?” Rafe purred in their ear.

“C-Can’t help it… I swear.” You whimpered in Rafe’s face. Rafe chuckled at your desperation, “I know… you just can’t help yourself? Can’t help the fact that you want your big brother to fuck you?”

Rafe rocked himself forward, making you feel his entire length. “I’m going to ruin you, ruin you for anyone else, and all you're going to want is your big brother's cock.“

“I-I want.. want you badly.. please” You plea desperately running your hands on his chest.

Rafe groaned hearing your words, his finger rubbing your clothed clit and his other hand reaching to pull the flimsy tank top you have on. Rafe felt the way your nipples hardened at the cool air; he leaned down, capturing one of the rosy buds in his mouth. “Fuck, your tits are perfect, angel.”

Rafe felt the heat radiating off of you, the sense of desperation and pleasure. “Tell me how badly you want your big brother’s fingers inside your tight little cunt.”

“B-Badly… I want it so badly, please. You tell him in a slight, hushed whisper, slightly grinding his thigh.

Rafe felt his heart race as he pumped two fingers into their slick cunt. “That’s it, baby,” Rafe dragged out slowly with a wicked grin on his face, “Taking your big brother’s finger like a good little sister.”

As Rafe felt the way his little stepsister was clenching his fingers, the way she was shaking, he wrapped his slender hand around her throat; he didn’t give it a tight squeeze, just enough to give her a silent threat, “I want to feel you cum; you can do it, baby.”

Rafe felt her walls squeezing his fingers, slowly curling them; he saw the way her face turned with pleasure, letting out a soft whimper. He brought his now-soaked fingers into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste. “You taste so sweet; I can’t wait to lick and fuck your sweet cunt until your mind is only filled with thoughts of your big brother.” He sealed his words with a long lick up the center of her pussy.

Rafe gripped her hips tightly, pulling their flesh closer to them, pressing his hard cock against their pulsing cunt. “P-Please, Rafe, I—I need it,” you whimpered, your voice breaking at each word.

Rafe felt a huge surge of masculinity and an ego boost at the way he reduced you to this state. Rafe rolled his hips forward, the thick head of his cock caught onto her entrance; without a warning, Rafe thrust into you, burying himself into your heat.

“God, you're squeezing me so tight; it seems like my cock is the only thing you're made for, like you were born to take this.” Rafe groaned darkly, hooking your legs over his shoulder. He reached down as his fingers found her clit, rubbing furiously in circles; his heart raced feeling her body stiffen beneath him; he slammed a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt of his orgasm; he could feel the warmth of their spend leaking out around his now semi-hard cock.

“You took me so well,” Rafe whispered as he rolled to his side, pulling her against him so they were spooned together. He nuzzled in to the back of their neck, breathing in their scent.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rafey.” You mumbled softly, your eyelashes fluttering against his chest. Rafe couldn’t help but let out a satisfied smirk, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, my little stepsister.”

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 day ago

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a long drag of a cigarette.

smoke floods his lungs, in sticky streams, glides into his throat and burns the back of it with a scorpion's sting. nicotine kisses his gums. he exhales, watches as the toxins form a cloud of gray, polluting the air. keeps the cigarette poised between his fingers as the bottom end crumbles to ash. the orange spark left by his lighter has all but faded, he can’t taste anything but slow, sweet decay — tender rot in his lungs.

suguru watches you, out of the corner of his eye.

it’s rare for him to have company, at this time of day. with such awful weather, to boot. that’s why his eyes can’t help but wander, to your figure, your vacant expression. the sight of it makes his bones twitch. you’ve been sitting there since he arrived, barely moving. you look young, scrawny, clothes too big for your body. there’s mud on your shoes and the cuffs of your jeans; their edges frayed and damaged, like you’ve been walking down concrete and puddles all day. your skin glistens with leftover dewdrops.

the air smells of rain. he likes it, despite his frizzy black locks, likes the contrast between the sting of the smoke and the life in the air, a summer soon to pass him by. he tastes it when he parts his lips and allows himself a tender inhale, earth and leaves and ripened clusters of honeydew being split into halves. when he looks down at the ground, he finds his own reflection; a silhouette in the puddle at his feet, ripples tearing his face in half. he looks weary. lilac smudges underneath his eyes, hair raised into an unkempt bun, the silver sliver of piercings on his bottom lip and helix catching the dim light of the lamp overhead. they gleam, in the humid air.

(he got them on a whim. a tattoo would be the next step, but he has no idea what design to choose.

mostly, he just wants to feel the sting.)

a choked out sound. it snaps him back into reality, plants roots and vines around his feet. suguru watches you, with eyes of burning cedar, tastes the visage of your image on his teeth and on his tongue.

for a moment, your gaze overlaps with his own. fickle eyes. you’re covering your mouth, staring at the cigarette only centimeters from their mark —

and he understands the issue. can see your eyes water from the smoke. it’s only you and him here, no one else who can complain or chew him out, just you and him outside the tiny konbini, by an alley littered with trash bags and hungry strays; cats, ravens.

you.

”… sorry,” he hums, vocal cords roughed up, lacking their usual luster. he doesn’t like the way it sounds. ”i’ll put it out.”

he crushes the cigarette under his boot. it falls on the concrete without making any noise, pliant as he makes it crumble apart, dissolve into black soot. dirty rainwater swallows what remains.

he should really quit, soon.

with a rustle of fabric, he digs through the plastic bag hanging off his arm — searching for a bottle of water to moisten his dry throat, uncapping the lid and relishing as it flows against tender flesh. it feels nice, to have this routine. to come here every day, and have himself a silent smoke. suguru enjoys the structure. enjoys what little semblance of control he can get, after leaving his old life behind.

(after crushing his potential under the heel of his boot. his ears still ring with gunshots at night, but the silent death has strayed its course.

buddha, he thinks, lips twitching with a withheld smile. look at what a spectacle i’ve become.)

no words from you grace his ears. you duck your head, as if scared of the sudden attention, of his voice. he belatedly regrets his lack of consideration — wishes he had twisted it into a softer shape for the fickle creature to his left. but you aren’t coughing anymore, only sitting there with your legs dangling off the edge of the bench. with those lifeless eyes, a fish about to be gutted, just as weary as his.

like you’re about to fade into slumber. fade out of existence.

even after all these years, even without sorcery — suguru can sense death. his instincts are forever honed. what he smells on you is decay, the same as the ache in his rotting lungs. you look famished, trembling fingers finding purchase in your lap, picking at a piece of lint on your jeans.

the sight makes his heart ache. breaks it apart, like an unripened fruit, splits and tears down the middle. you look so small, so weak. so very, very vulnerable.

a moment’s hesitation.

suguru’s hand slips back into the bag, ghosts against a styrofoam cup and pack of wakaba cigarettes, before his fingers finally settle and curl around a soft, triangular object. wrapped up in neat sheets of plastic, still slightly warm to the touch. perfect.

he gives you a glance, and finds you’re already looking at him. eyes droopy with fatigue, but moving down his fingers, almost curiously. watching him pull out the cheap onigiri and cradle it in his palm.

ah, now you’re looking away. skittish — he tastes the word on his tongue, allows his eyes to run from the bridge of your nose to the tips of your fingers. you’re coiled in on yourself, almost as if waiting for a blow. and oh, it hurts him, even though he isn’t sure why. even though he can’t recall the last time his heart felt this wet with pity. he feeds the cats around here, sometimes, but they never look so sad.

”are you hungry?”

the words have left his mouth long before he can regret them. and suguru is pleased, to notice his voice has peeled itself of the rasp, invited smooth, silky vowels. he sounds kind, he thinks. hopes.

but you still look uncomfortable. he must appear intimidating, to you. tall, pierced, long hair and sleepless eyes. a handsome face does no good when you don’t even have the courage to look at it properly. you shift in your seat, not meeting his eyes.

no response.

that’s just fine.

”here.” he takes a seat on the bench, at the very edge, careful not to come too close. you jolt, but stay, as he unfurls his palm. ”you can have it.”

cautious eyes meet his own. still just for a moment, a flicker of light when you tip your head a certain way. then it’s gone, and your eyes are just lifeless again. he’s seen it before, in mirrors. he’s all too familiar with the act of drowning on land.

”go on.”

he tries his hand at a smile. voice a low lull, coaxing you forward, still patiently holding out the onigiri.

a growl of your stomach. it’s barely audible, but he picks up on it, watches the way you clutch at your abdomen as if to muffle the noise. ducking your head, again, a bit of colour blooming in your cheeks.

finally, a feeble hand reaches for his own.

so you do have it in you.

”… thank you,” comes a murmur, a little scratchy. but soft, just rusty. how polite. he watches as your shaky fingers curl around the plastic, bring it to your lap.

suguru takes notice of your body language. still skittish, your shoe tapping at the concrete as if restless, eager to get away. but you’re more relaxed than when he first spoke to you. it feels good.

feels right.

(feels like something he’d forgotten.)

”how old are you?” he asks, uncapping the lid of his water bottle, just to place it next to you. hand reaching into his pocket, to pull out his lighter, her lighter, worn with age. ”if you don’t mind me asking.”

no response. you fumble with the plastic wrapping, having difficulty getting it off. the nori tears, he can tell from the way you mouth a wince. without thinking, he’s taking it from off your hands — practiced, as he unfurls it, peels the plastic and fishes out the rice ball. while he does, you finally speak, in a voice just barely raised above a whisper.

”… ’m in college.”

a quirk of his brow. ”… are you?”

you nod. suguru gives back the snack, watches as you take a bite, listens to the crunch of seaweed and the quiet hum you let out as you chew. softly, slowly, as if savouring the taste. he isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. you’re younger than him, that much he’s certain of. ”… sure you’re not a runaway?”

it’s half a joke, half a question. he’s smiling, but your brows furrow together, face set into tense lines.

”… i just don’t have anywhere to go, right now.”

another bite. crunch, chew, swallow. he watches your throat bob, waits for the quiet gulp.

”that’s all.”

…

”i see.” he taps his fingers against the hood of the lighter, snaps it open and shut, a gaping mousetrap. ”that’s unfortunate. and your college can’t help?”

this time, he gets no response. you must already feel uncomfortable, sharing your troubles with a stranger. he understands, but an itch still gnaws at his bones.

trust is a fickle thing.

suguru watches you eat, and tries to calm the rising desire in his chest. warmth spreads throughout his stomach, at the sight, creeps into his veins. a coo on the tip of his tongue that he has to swallow down. he feels no need to have anything of his own, no real desire to fill his empty stomach. he only wants to watch, watch, watch, as you feast on what he brings you. he wants to watch you eat forever. it’s a sudden thought; his stomach twists with ill-content.

a deep, aching pit.

sometimes, he can still feel them. wriggling around in his womb, fighting for space as they crawl up his esophagus. all the curses they had him vomit up.

he thinks he must have lost something, back then. thrown up more than he should have. a lung, maybe. his heart, his human heart.

no running soothes the longing. it’s a losing battle, to struggle against it, to not be swallowed underwater when he keeps his eyes shut for too long and finds he no longer remembers how to suffocate the urge. when he realizes life still feels like dragging mud into whatever house will keep him. there is a burning hole inside him, something left it there, a hollow space that only ever deepens, sinks a blade into his chest.

what could fill it?

who could fill it?

(you, you, you, his gut supplies.

you, and your fragile bones.)

a shiver travels down his spine. it’s gone as soon as it came, because now you’re licking the grains of rice from off your fingers, like a cat lapping at the white bones of a grilled fish. he thinks it’s cute, thinks you look perfect after a little meal. eating so well for him, out of his hand. you look less fatigued, less droopy, and suguru feels more alive than he can remember.

for a moment, ill-chosen, he pictures you in his home. seated at his kitchen table, legs dangling underneath it, your fingers guiding warm stew and freshly made bread into your waiting mouth. pictures you soaking in his bathtub, napping on the couch while the tv flickers on and off, wrapped up in blankets and resting on silken sheets, waiting for him… he plays with the idea, for a while. isn’t sure where it came from, just knows he wants it.

and god, how long has it been since he felt desire?

”was it good?” he asks, suddenly, a smile playing at his lips, branches blooming with wisteria. ”tasty?”

a nod. he takes what he can get; dares not be greedy, when you’re already letting him so close. he wants you to trust him more than anything, right now, in this moment, more than he wants to breathe. more than he wants to ruin himself. you’re small, unsteady on your feet, all alone in the world. and you just happened to end up at the konbini he frequents.

suguru geto does not believe in fate.

he does believe in meaning.

(the word sears a burning gap into his tongue.)

”i’m glad,” he says, the hum of a buzzing dragonfly, slipping the lighter back into his pocket. he stands up, to his full height, breathes in the humid summer air and lets it stifle his lungs. he ponders, ponders, ponders. figures he can let himself be a little selfish, after all the years he spent eating himself alive. the gift of a bleeding heart left on the counter to cool.

just this once, suguru doesn’t look to the rotting innards in his stomach for guidance — he takes.

and the rainy day surrenders to the longing in his lungs.

”i know this is sudden, but would you like to come with me?”

his voice is silky, clusters of jasmine buds and honey, deep and warm and rumbling through his chest. you look up at him with big eyes. surprise, he wonders, or just caution? it’s good to be on edge, either way.

just not with him.

”i’m a social worker, of sorts,” a little white lie, just to get your guard down, just to soften the lining. ”if you have nowhere to go, you could come with me. just until you get back on your feet. of course, i don’t expect you to trust a man you just met, but…”

he eyes your clothes, your face, the decay sticking itself to your soul.

(it seems to me like you’re out of safe choices.)

”i’d like to help you, if possible.”

suguru tilts his head. you meet his low-lidded eyes — a look of bewilderment crossing your features. eyeing him, warily, as if expecting him to pull the rug from under your feet, pull a dagger out of his coat. his bangs sway like dying ravens hung out to dry.

trust is a fickle thing. he doesn’t mind. it’ll take you some time to adjust to his presence, he’s well aware.

”… what do you get out of it?”

your voice cuts into the air, the sharp edge of a blade. something like a hiss, but not quite; he senses the fear there, the trepidation. you’re guarded, that’s all.

it’s a good question.

company. duty. something to fill the pit in his chest.

meaning, meaning, meaning.

”… like i said,” he exhales, wearing a smile, eyes narrowed into slits. ”i just want to help. that’s all.”

and it’s true. he does want to help. wants to water your roots, watch you flourish before him. how long has it been since he felt responsible for anything other than himself? he remembers satoru and shoko and a myriad of dying plants. he wants to keep you tucked under his wing, safe and secure, where he can make sure no more harm befalls you. the world has already run you ragged — he knows, he can tell, you’re one and the same. the world has soiled you too. he knows, he knows, but you’re safe now.

ask a dying man what he wants, and you will get only one answer. but suguru has always been greedy.

he wants to make breakfast for two, and sleep with his chest to your back. but can’t tell you that. has to coax you into it, slowly, treat you with the caution you’d use to bandage a fawn’s broken leg. he thinks you’d feel right at home, with him. his apartment is on the smaller side, but he could adjust to your needs. he has more blood money than he knows what to do with. as long as you feel welcomed.

”i don’t need anything in return.”

tobacco lingers in the air, melts into the heavy scent of wet asphalt and rain, hugs his skin. suguru watches you, watches you, watches you. from the twitch of your pinkie to the tap of your shoe against concrete to the flicker in your eyes when you realize he’s being serious, when you fall into the half-truth.

trust is a fickle thing. it sweeps you in when your guard is down. leaves just as quickly.

(but a human being at their lowest will always want a hand to guide them.)

”… where do you work?”

suguru eyes ripen. a smile tugs his lips into a crescent moon, a silent victory.

”i’ll tell you.” he reaches his hand out, hungry for contact, lets his open palm hang in the air. ”but first… what would you say to a warm dinner?”

he watches your pupils waver. ripples along water, a dirty puddle in the street. he can almost see his own silhouette, a looming figure, gazing down at you with piercing golden eyes. he could fit you in his pocket, he thinks. you’d feel right at home in his lap.

ugly, ugly thoughts. the phantom curses in his stomach twist with glee, and suguru ignores their taunting. he thinks of neither god nor buddha.

(free of rot, but just as filthy.)

a smaller hand approaches his.

#i like it when he is a little fucked in the head <3 #enjoy my lovelies #geto x reader #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader

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codnasties · 2 days ago

Note

Just imagine, after a deployment. Poor man, he couldn't hold on until he got to a decent place...

https://x.com/CouplesNotez/status/1868760274788082057?t=UJgkXPAmMVC0snKOIEkZDw&s=19

price coming back 🚬 (🌽 link)

solitude hurts like shit and it's a type of brain worm that can be extremely harmful. especially when your partner is in the military, away for a big part of the time, ofter without communication allowed. that idea that he may not even make it back.

that's why when poor little price, who spends so much time away from home, far away from you, get back home from deployment, he can barely hold himself back. he just needs to show you how much he has missed you and release all the love - and hornyness - accumulated inside of him.

he doesn't even make it home, barely having enough mental strength and time to make it to a somewhat private setting. like a public bathroom. he just needs to have you. basicaly ripping clothes out of your body to fully take you in and getting rid of his own to make sure to feel you all over.

bending you over the sink as taking you from the back after eating your pretty cunt. pushing himself in a deep thrust that pulls both a loud groan out of him and a moan from you. plunigng into your soaking cunt, relishing the feeling of it wrapping around his aching needy cock. making sure that you are looking at the mirror in front of you, seeing the way he's fucking you dumb.

an inocent soldier definitely heard you two - and also saw the way you walked back to the car, dull ache between your legs as well as trying to keep his cum inside

#cod #cod smut #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod x y/n #cod x you #p!link #price smut #cod price #john price #captain price #price #price x y/n #price x you #price x reader #john price smut #cod john price

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luvgam3 · 2 days ago

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day!!! I hope you’re stuffing your face with chocolate and feeling some type of way while reading this. ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

୨୧Nanami, Gojo, Sukuna, Toji, Shoko

cw: mdni (+18) under cut, afab!reader, plus size reader, fluff @ the beginning(s), oral f-receiving, pet names, slight food play, hand j★bs, being tied up with ribbons, body worship, make up s★x (gaslighting?), sensual massages, wax play, true from Sukuna, uncharacteristically sweet Sukuna (because this is my sleepover and I get to pick the movie)

❤︎KentoNanami❤︎

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Nanami loves his beautiful partner every day of the year— Valentines Day just means he gets to lavish you even more. You’re perched on a mountain of pillows, sipping your coffee as he glides through the doorway, resting a tray of your favorite foods on the bedside table.

He’s so handsome in the early morning light, flour covering his pajama bottoms as he sits on the edge of the bed. He holds a fork full of pancakes to your mouth, relishing the way your plush lips shine with syrup. It’s a morning of tender love and care as he feeds you everything he’s prepared. Fresh strawberries, tart blueberries, sweet pastries— everything you could ever ask for. He takes pleasure in wiping the crumbs from the corners of your lips, popping his thumb into his mouth and humming with satisfaction as the sweet taste of syrup and pastries and you touch his tongue.

“Full?” He murmurs, his voice gravely as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand trailing up and down your plush thigh at a lazy gently pace.

He makes you spend the whole morning in bed… of course you can’t complain about that— not when he’s made sure you’re surrounded by fluffy pillows and warm blankets, not when he’d given you a tender massage, and especially not now as he lays on his tummy between your thigh. He presses the flat of his tongue against your dripping hole, the weight of your thighs draped over his shoulder is heaven to him as you recline back, your hand combing through his hair as you enjoy everything he gives you. He moans as he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling as his thumbs trace shapes into the fat of your thighs, trailing up your stomach and back down again.

His warm tongue glides through your drenched folds before he burries it deep inside you, moaning and slurping in such a lewd display as your flavor dances across his tongue like the sweetest thing. Saliva dribbles down his sharp chin as he curls his tongue, pulling it back and punching it back in as your slick gushes around the invading muscle. He doesn’t care about the mess— how could he when your sweet little moans fill his ears like early morning bird songs? When choked little gasps leave your lips and your thighs tremble around his ears he pulls back, his eyes glazed over as he looks up at you through thick blonde lashes. “Come on, Darling.” He purrs, his large palms gently petting your thighs, “cum for me— you can do it, Angel.” He says it in that smooth voice of his, tender and loving as he goes back to eating you out. His nose presses against your clit as his lips latch onto you, practically making out with your pussy as you grind against his face.

And when you cum he gulps down whatever you give him, greedy and starving as he takes in your beautifully flushed face and heaving chest. Nanami rests his cheek against your spread thigh, warm and soft as he just gazes at you, admiring the curve of your face and the way your soft lips part. The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, in the back of his mind he thinks about how he’ll be able to do this for you again next Valentine’s Day and the one after that. A lifetime of gentle mornings and simple pleasurable acts of love— it brings a smile to his lips.

❤︎Satoru Gojo❤︎

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Gojo was more than pleased to get a little heart shaped box of chocolates from you. You played it cool all day long, peppering his face is sickeningly sweet kisses, clinging to his side everywhere you went. You were showering him in affection and love and he did the exact same for you.

It’s such an unbearable sight to every single person you pass. His long arm curled protectively around your waist as he rests his chin against your shoulder, his cheek pressed against yours as you giggle at one of his lame jokes. You spend your morning buying fresh pastries, feeding him shiny glazed goods and kissing frosting off of his lips with a cheeky flush covering your cheeks.

It’s a day of gentle love and caring that’s all so sickeningly sweet. He loves your soft caresses, your doting kisses and your gentle hands. Of course that doesn’t change as the sun sets and he’s sprawled out under you, his hands above his head as your wet hot tongue glides across his abs, licking chocolate sauce from them. You crawl up his torso, smooth and skilled and you grasp his jaw between perfectly manicured fingers with a vice like grip. His lips part, his tongue hanging out as you spit the remanence into his waiting mouth.

The things you say are filthy, your warm sugar scented breath sends chills down his spine as you lean in close to his ear. “You’re so sticky baby.” You tsk, your small hand wrapped around the base of his cock, smearing the little bits of whipped cream you couldn’t lap up completely as your fingers glide slowly up to his angry leaking tip. Your fingers glide over his slit, pearly beads of pre coat your fingers as you hold them up to his glossy spit slicked lips. “Clean up your mess.” It’s such a lewd sight— his large hand eagerly wrapping around your wrist, pulling it closer to his face as his tongue twirls around and between your digits. His azure eyes fluttering closed behind snowy lashes, deep whiny moans bubbling up his throat as your other hand cradles his cheek. He needs it, needs your touch as he deepthroat your pretty little fingers. He needs to hear your voice, your commands, your praise, your depraved fantasies he will make a reality.

He returns the favor, big hands palming at your breast as he sucks rosy marks onto your sweet skin. Your taste like honey and cream and everything he’s ever craved as he works his tongue over you, his cock slotted between your slick folds. Needy whimpers leave each of you, his hips hump desperately against you as he suckles on your breast, both hands kneading at your soft tummy, your skin sweat slicked and sticky with sugar and cum— and it’s the sweetest fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

❤︎Ryōmen Sukuna❤︎

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Sukuna is monstrous— that’s common knowledge. His gigantic frame towers over everyone he meets, his piercing gaze, his brutal words and his violent actions strike fear into the hearts of hundreds— thousands— everyone except you. His presence flower. You’re so sweet to him, small and delicate in his strong arms as you smooth your fingers across his face, your thumb gently dancing over his closed eyelids before you pepper them in gentle kisses, earning a low gravely chuckle from his muscular chest.

A day of love is something he would simply overlook if it weren’t for you. Now he can’t stand the thought of you leaving the house on this day. He’d much rather keep you in his lap, draped in fine silks and smelling of the most expensive perfumes money could buy— and that’s exactly what he did. Two gigantic hands, rough to the touch, slowly rub up and down your naked thighs. He wonders how anyone could be so soft to the touch, how anyone could take pleasure in the way his calloused fingers feel. But he also doesn’t realize just how gentle he is with you. Like a giant holding a feather in his hands.

If it were any other day you’d be the one on top, your tiny body writhing on top of him as you please him. But today he has your delicate little wrists bound in red ribbons, your legs held wide by the soft silky fabric as his finger tips lazily trail up your calfs. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to take you, to abuse your unmarked flesh until you’re crying fat tears he’d happily lick from your cheeks. But instead he’s worshipping you. He loves having you sit on his face, he loves to have you ride his abs and his thighs as he praises you. He’ll say such sweet things to you, things he’d never utter aloud around anyone else.

Sukuna presses his lips against your cheek, the valley between your breasts, your knees and each and every finger before he pressed a feather light kiss to your clit. He growls deep in his throat as you squirm, your body sensitive and needy despite him only covering you in kisses.

What he thinks is him being kind and gentle is just a new form of torture for you. His touches are so light they make your head fuzzy, your ears ringing as you whine, unable to touch him or yourself. He smiles, his teeth bared in a toothy grin as he takes you in. His cocks throb against your stomach, slick and dribbling onto your shiny sweaty skin. The warmth has you clenching around nothing, brows furrowed and teeth clenched as you beg him to touch you harder.

“Such a needy thing.” He tutters, his fingers pinching your chin and tilting your head back. His lips trail up your throat, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth connects with yours— demanding and powerful despite how gently he touches you. “You will lay here and take what I give you.” He murmurs, his voice rumbling. “You will let me worship this little body of yours, and you will thank me for it.” You have no choice but to obey a pout on your lips as he continues his gentle torment. He may love you but he won’t hesitate to punish you, and if stepping back and watching you fight against your restraints is what he has to do he’ll do it.

❤︎Toji Fushiguro❤︎

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Toji forgets most things— Valentine’s Day included. You worked all day, your body aching as you walk through the door to see him on the couch. His black hair tousled, his grey sweats hanging low on his hips as his eyes are glued to the tv.

Sure you pouted about it all day, telling anyone who would listen about how much of a deadbeat your boyfriend is. No sweet good morning kiss, no little box of chocolates, no flowers. Did you need all of those things? No! Would him acknowledging it still be nice? Yeah! He watches you from the corner of his eyes, how you kick off your heels and flop down onto the cushion next to him with a huff. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks. You roll your eyes, unbuttoning your shirt as you rattle off all of your complaints.

“Awe baby don’t be like that.” He purrs, grasping your hips and pulling you into his lap. His body is warm and inviting and despite your simmering anger you allow him to hold you. And holding you leads him with his fingers under your shirt, helping you slip it off your shoulder. And that leads to his greedy hands sliding into your pants.

He keeps mumbling such sweet things into your ear, such sweet sweet degrading things… he has your panties pushed to the side as he presses the head of his cock against your clit, his thumb holding him in place as you lay back against the couch, a pillow wedged under you as you wiggle your hips impatiently.

It’s almost like you want him to ram his cock into you, make your pretty little head forget all about the things he didn’t do. And the second he bottoms out inside of you with one hard thrust— you do. His tip kisses that spongy spot deep inside of you and it makes it so much harder to remember how much of a dick he was. His fingers press hard into your thighs as he pushes them against your chest, leaning his body weight into each and every snap of his hips. Everything he does is bruising, the pain and pleasure melt into one as your head swims and your pussy gushes around him. The slick smack of skin against skin echos around the walls of your living room, along with your cries of pleasure he pushes out of you. A creamy ring forms at the base, a sticky mess between your bodies as he fucks the frustration out of you like the loving devoted boyfriend he says he is.

❤︎Ieiri Shoko❤︎

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Shoko takes Valentine’s Day with you very seriously. Your schedule is laid out for you. Breakfast at an adorable and cozy cafe, a shopping spree where she gets to sit back and watch you try on dresses and twirl in mirrors. Her heart melts when you drag her into a dressing room with you, you push a baby blue dress in her hands, begging her to put it on. And of course she buys it and wears it to the fancy dinner she planned for you. She’s in a permanent state of awe as she watches you over the rim of her glass. Her heart is full and she couldn’t be more in love with you.

She holds your hand as you feed her little bites of chocolate cake, smirking around the fork. You’re so beautiful, wiping crumbs from her lips as she admires you in the dress she picked out. Pink velvet clings to your curves, the dim light of the restaurant makes your eyes twinkle and her heart clenches in her chest.

When you’re home again she’s unzipping your dress for you, pressing a smoke scented kiss to your cheek as she tells you her plans— a relaxing wind down to a relaxing day.

Candles bathe your bedroom in a warm yellow light as her hands work the knots out of your shoulders. Your skin is so smooth beneath her fingers as she straddles your back, listening to your breathy little gasps as she massages you with practices ease. She can barely handle how sweet you look beneath her. Your head rests on your arms, your hair draped over a shoulder as you melt into the mattress. Shoko drizzles warm oil onto your back, watching it pool and listening to you moan before her thumbs massage it into your skin. “Too hot?” She asks, her sultry voice even as she eyes the flickering red candle on the nightstand. You shake your head, mumbling about how it could be a little warmer. You don’t even think about what she could possibly do next, not when her body is pressed against you, her weight against your thighs a comforting feeling as her skilled fingers press against you, working away the stress of been spoiled rotten all day long.

She shifts, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as she carefully takes the candle, the crimson wax sloshing in the pit. Her palm presses up your spine before she tips the candle over, watching as the red wax pours down, watching as it hardens ever so slightly once it meets the small of your back.

Her lips pull into a smile as she hears you gasp, your brows furrows as your eyes stay closed. Shoko’s free hand clings to the back of your neck, a gentle reminder that she’s still there and willing to stop the second you tell her to. “Is this warm enough?” Her question has your hips twitching, your body aching for more— greedy for even more of her attention. She’s more than happy to give you what you crave. She doesn’t stop till you’re trembling, your chest heaving and your body dripping in red white and pink wax.

Her fingers sink into you, her dripping cunt grinding eagerly against your leg as she peppers your face in kisses. “My pretty girl.” She gasps, each rock of her hips aided by the oil coating your body and the mess that drips from between her thighs. Her nails scrape the dried wax from your chest, her lips replacing the warm feeling as you clench around her digits, grinding against her palm as you both chase your high. She decides then and there, as you cum around her, that red is your color. She keeps pumping her fingers in and out as she notes everything red that would look good on you. Lipstick, dresses, panties, and without a doubt— wax. Even as you beg her to keep going, overstimulation turning you into a babbling mess, she notices how your cheeks are flushed that beautiful color. Hot to the touch and stained with tears as your hands grasp her hips, forcing her to grind harder against you as red hot lust consumes you both.

❤︎link for the dividers❤︎

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mama-qwerty · 3 days ago

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Gentle Touches

We were spitballing on the Knuckles discord server about Knux being uncomfortable with touch and physical affection, at least in the beginning when he comes to live with the Wachowskis. We wondered how that first acceptance of physical touch would go.

Here's my take.

~~~

Knuckles had always been a good observer of behavior. It was a necessity as he traveled the galaxy. One must observe his surroundings before acting, so all dangers could be recognized and dealt with accordingly.

So after the fight with Robotnik, when the Wachowskis had offered their home to him and the fox, Knuckles had done what he always did.

Observe.

Watch.

Learn.

He watched as the humans seemed to accept the fox into their tribe. He watched as they offered food and shelter, care and safety. They seemed genuine in their kindness, which was a stark contrast to many he’d encountered before.

Safety was not something easily attained. To have such an offer, such a promise, was no small feat. So he appreciated the humans’ generosity. Their compassion.

But that was where the confusion came in.

He watched as the fox and hedgehog initiated soft touches. They would often seek out the humans for hugs and pets and scratches on their muzzles and behind their ears. The fox was hesitant at first, but soon seemed to relish the attention. The hedgehog was less obvious about it, but he also smiled when Maddie spoke softly to him, or ran her thin fingers through his quills. Affection sought and given with hardly a word.

But not for him.

Which was fine. Seeking comfort from physical touch was for others. Things children did. He wasn't a child. He was a warrior. He'd long since overcome his need for such affection.

But still, he watched. And something in his gut churned when the other boys received such physical affection so freely. When Maddie would simply give Tails a little scratch on the head as she passed by. Almost as though she hadn't even thought about it.

Tom wasn't immune to the lure of physical affection. He often received a quick hug by the hedgehog, or his wife—which obviously wasn't so strange—but the man also gave it freely as well. Pinching Sonic's ear, or giving a 'high five'. It was curious how much they all touched each other, seemingly without thinking. For no reason at all.

But no one touched him.

He didn't blame them, he had made it clear that he wasn't comfortable with touch. His life in the arenas had shown him touch was pain. A hand coming near was a fist, not a caress.

And so it went, for weeks. He and the fox settled into a new routine with the Wachowskis, a new life. Tails joined the family with little trouble, welcomed into the fold and the subsequent affection without pause.

But Knuckles still stood outside the circle.

They gave him space. Told him he was safe, and they were there if he needed them. He could come to them when he was ready.

He was never ready.

Because he didn't know how.

How does one ask for affection? He'd never seen Tails or Sonic ask for a hug. Ask for a scratch. Ask for a gentle stroke on their muzzle or the top of their head. Knuckles had no exposed ears, but he supposed there were other areas that were pleasurable to get scratches. Between his shoulder blades, for example. He could never reach that spot and it sometimes itched like mad.

He wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Would they laugh if he asked? If he simply stepped forward and initiated himself? Would they freeze, push him away? Would they pull him closer, wrapping their arms around him?

He didn't know.

He was the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy, and he was terrified of something as simple as a hug.

Time passed, and Knuckles was starting to feel so jealous of the other boys. Of the affection that they so freely gave and accepted.

Why not him? Why were they still 'giving him space'? Did they not see he was just as touch-starved as they? That he needed that connection, that acceptance into the tribe?

Did they not want him to be part of their tribe? They'd welcomed him in, yet treated him differently. They didn't offer Tails 'space'. They didn't keep their affection from the fox, even from the first moments after the battle with Robotnik. He was hugged immediately after. Yet none had reached out to him.

It had been three months since the battle, and he still felt on the outside. Still felt separate from the others.

Knuckles sat tall and still on the cold metal table. Maddie had insisted he come in for a 'check up', even though he was in peak physical form, and didn't need to be examined. She insisted, and the hedgehog had claimed that she needed to do this to set her own mind at ease, so Knuckles had agreed. He was nothing if not a good guest.

She would examine him, see he was in top shape—and one million percent muscle—and she would be satiated.

He sat still as her hands ran across his limbs. She told him everything she was doing, so as not to startle him.

Her hands were gentle, and warm, and soft. He had to keep a shiver from running up his spine every time she touched him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in such a gentle manner. Not since before his tribe had fallen.

It was quiet in the room. Maddie asked questions at first, mostly where his various scars had come from, but she grew silent when his answer was the same for each. “Received in battle, either in the arenas, or in a bid to escape bounty hunters.” He sensed her tense, as though she didn’t like the answer. But it was the truth, and Knuckles didn’t see a reason to hide it. He’d defeated many foes in his life. A few scars well hidden beneath his fur were a small price for his continued freedom and survival.

She was almost done now. She'd left his face to check last. Her hands were on his muzzle and . . .

Oh.

Oh, Gaia.

They reminded him of his mother, before she died. How she'd taken his muzzle into her hands, running her thumbs across the soft fur. How she would gently guide his head forward, bringing their foreheads together.

Her hands had been so soft. So gentle.

Oh Gaia, he hadn't thought of her in so long. So, so long.

He closed his eyes as they burned, and swallowed hard. Warriors didn't cry. Warriors didn't need affection.

Maddie's hands paused, pulling back slightly. His eyes opened, and they were shinier in the bright light of the exam room. He looked up at her, and she stared at him, her eyes wide, a small pinch in her brow.

They sat frozen for a long moment, before Knuckles closed his eyes again. Slowly, shakily, he leaned forward, placing his face back in her hands.

She seemed surprised, but her hands cupped him more firmly, her thumbs moving in small arcs over his fur.

Wetness appeared on his muzzle, trickling from his eyes. The thumbs on his face wiped away the tracks, and he sensed her move closer, her warmth right in front of him. He could smell her, the scent of lavender invading his nose.

He sniffed. A wet sound that seemed so loud in the quiet of the room.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down, offering his forehead in an unconscious gesture to seek comfort. One he hadn’t done in countless years. Not since before his father marched with the rest of the tribe, only to disappear into the forest, never to return.

There's a moment of hesitation, and then her forehead is there, pressing against him.

The feel is nostalgic, making his tears fall faster.

His tribe. His people. All gone.

All gone.

He released a breath he felt he had been holding for years, deflating against her. Her hands moved from his muzzle to curl around his shoulders, holding him gently, but firmly. There were words, she was saying something soft in his ear, but he didn’t hear them. His focus was on this moment.

On the soft arms around him. On the forehead pressed against his own. On the warmth of her body pressed against him. On the sound of her heartbeat, thrumming rhythmically in her chest.

He was trembling, and his arms moved without his consent to reach for her. She moved closer, and he bunched her scrubs into his fists, holding on as though he would fall apart if he let go.

His tears fell silently, and she held him as they did.

After that day, things changed around the Wachowski home.

Maddie included Knuckles in various activities. Grocery shopping, yoga, gardening. When he helped with food preparation, she would stand near him, and let him lean against her. Her hands found him regularly, gently rubbing his back or dragging a knuckle along his muzzle.

Tom’s touches weren’t as gentle as Maddie’s which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He would offer playful punches to Knuckles’ shoulder, or something he referred to as a ‘noogie’, wherein he would grab Knuckles in a loose hold, and rub his knuckles into the boy’s forehead. At first it was confusing and slightly alarming, but once it was explained to be a gesture of affection, he accepted it with pride.

Warriors didn’t need affection. Didn’t need love.

But Knuckles thought it may be okay to not be a warrior. At least as long as the hugs and noogies last.

#knuckles the echidna #sonic fanfiction #my writing #maddie wachowski

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lindsey-laufeyson · 2 days ago

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Distractions- Chapter 19

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

The first time you and Tom spent time together after you told him you wanted to just be friends for a while, it was a bit awkward. It wasn’t like you didn't know what to do with each other when sex wasn’t an option. That part was easy. You did everything you’d always done together, you just didn’t have your hands all over each other while you did it. That was the hard part. You were so used to touching each other all the time, and now you were both trying so hard not to that you hardly knew what to do with your own hands. Your bodies were like magnets to each other, and at first it seemed almost impossible to resist that pull toward one another. But over time, it got a little easier. Relatively anyway.

Meanwhile, Tom was finding that his feelings for you weren’t subsiding in the slightest. In fact, not being able to kiss you or touch you beyond a quick hug only made him realize that he’d taken that freedom for granted, and it made him ache for you even more.

On top of that, you weren’t quite yourself. You were more reserved and guarded. He relished the times he could pull a genuine laugh out of you, because it was an occurrence which was happening fewer and farther between. And yet, you wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. He never pressed you, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. He thought the two of you could tell each other anything, but evidently that was not the case. Granted, he was keeping a rather big secret from you, but that was different. He knew that you were both better off if he didn’t tell you how he felt about you. He just had to get over it. But how the hell was he supposed to do that?

…

It had been a few weeks of focusing on just being friends with Tom, and it wasn’t helping like you thought it would. Every time the two of you hung out, you’d look at his lips and wish they were kissing you, you’d look at his hands and wish they were touching you, you’d look at his arms and wish they were holding you. And the jealousy was getting worse. Every day that you didn’t see him, you wondered who he was with instead. And there were times when you were with him and he’d be texting someone back and forth. Yes, it could be about work or from one of his other friends, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it was someone he was sleeping with, especially when you saw a woman’s name pop up on his phone that you didn’t recognize. To make it worse, every time you had these thoughts, you hated yourself a little more. You never thought you’d be that girl. You used to be this career driven badass who wouldn’t be tied down by anyone, and now you were this pathetic little girl with an unrequited crush and crippling jealousy issues. That’s what you had decided, by the way. It was just a silly crush– an all-consuming, blinding, deafening, mind-numbing, heart-wrenching crush– and the thing about crushes is that they eventually fade. So all you had to do was wait it out. What you were quickly learning, however, is that it was a lot easier said than done.

Now you found yourself getting ready for Kaitlyn’s birthday party, and you were unnecessarily nervous. You knew Kaitlyn would have definitely invited Tom, but you didn’t know if he was going. You hadn’t seen him since she had invited you a week ago. Would he show up with a date? If not, would he go home with one? You don’t know if you’d be able to handle seeing him flirt with someone else, but you couldn’t hold it against him if he did. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t be there and then you wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

Unfortunately, life was not that kind. When you walked into the pub, you were immediately met with Tom’s annoyingly cute smile from across the room. He waved at you before turning back to… of course… a pretty young thing in a tiny black dress. You were suddenly kicking yourself for wearing one of your more modest sundresses as you walked straight to the bar. Once you had a drink in your hand, you went to find Kaitlyn, using all the effort you could muster not to glance back over at Tom.

“You made it!” came Kaitlyn’s voice from behind you.

You turned around and hugged her. “Hi! Happy birthday, darling!” You held her out at arms length to get a good look at her. “It is so good to see you!” It was true. You realized how isolated you’d become and it was nice to see a friend whose presence didn’t make your heart ache. She also reminded you of simpler, happier times.

“It’s great to see you too! How are you?”

Little did she know how complicated of a question that was right now. “I’m doing alright. Focusing on work as usual. How are you?”

“I’m wonderful! Miss working with you though. Did you see that Tom is here? I’m actually a little surprised you guys didn’t come together!” She chuckled.

“Oh he is?” you said in an attempt to be nonchalant. “I wasn’t sure if he was coming, or not.”

Kaitlyn looked confused. “Really? I thought you guys would be living happily ever after by now, after that kiss from the last time I saw you!”

You chuckled as you shook your head. “If you recall, that was a dare. We’re still just friends, Kait.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned dramatically. “Jesus, you two are frustrating.”

You put your hand on her shoulder. “Nevermind that. It’s your birthday, and I’m buying you a birthday shot! What do you want?”

“You really don’t have too–”

“Ah ah! It’s not an option! Let me do this! I’ll be right back.” You left her to mingle while you headed back to the bar.

“Can I get a ‘blowjob,’ please?” you asked the bartender.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of party,” came a voice from behind you. The voice that made you weak in the knees. Well, you couldn’t avoid him all night.

“You know what, make that two,” you added.

“Better make it three,” Tom interjected. He leaned on the bar next to you and placed a hand on the small of your back. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi,” you replied casually, trying to ignore the goosebumps that spread over your whole body from one little touch. “Sorry, I thought I should find Kait and get her a shot before I came and found you.”

“No worries, darling. I’m just glad you’re here.” He smiled warmly at you.

You briefly smiled back before shifting your gaze back to the busy bartender. Don’t ask who he was talking to. Do not ask. “Who was it you were talking to before? Someone you know?” Dammit.

“Just a friend of Kaitlyn’s. A fan, apparently. Nice girl.” He sounded uninterested, which pleased you probably more than it should have. There was a beat of silence between you before he spoke again. “How’ve you been?”

You looked down at your hands. “Erm, busy. You know, with work and stuff.”

“That’s not really what I was asking, Swe–”

“Three blowjobs,” the bartender announced as he placed the shots in front of you.

“Let’s go find the birthday girl!” you said overenthusiastically, handing him a shot before taking the other two and heading into the crowd.

When you found Kaitlyn, she was sitting at a table with a couple of people who were just leaving. She threw her hands in the air when she saw you and Tom and squealed. “Aaaahhh! Name a more iconic duo!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, okay. It’s time for shots.” You placed the glass with the most whipped cream in front of Kaitlyn.

“Ooh! What is it?” she asked excitedly.

“Just drink it, and then I’ll tell you,” you replied with a smirk. She eyed you suspiciously and then shrugged, as if deciding she didn’t care.

The three of you raised your glasses. “Happy birthday, Kaitlyn!” you and Tom cheered before all three of you downed the concoction. Yours was gone before Kaitlyn finished hers, so you thought now was the opportune time to tell her what she was drinking.

“Congrats on your first blowjob, Kait!” you said.

Kaitlyn went wide-eyed and suddenly started coughing, which soon mixed with laughter. “You’re disgusting!”

You and Tom both laughed. “It’s delicious though, right?” you asked. She nodded as she continued to cough and laugh.

“I think you’ve gone and killed the poor girl,” Tom said. You smiled at him, amused with yourself and he suddenly pressed his lips together, holding back another laugh.

“What?” you asked.

He let out a reserved chuckle. “You’ve got some…” He pointed to his top lip.

“Oh!” you quickly wiped the whipped cream off your upper lip, and then you noticed he actually had some on the corner of his mouth and you giggled. “You’re one to talk.”

He wiped his upper lip too, not realizing where the cream was.

You smiled and shook your head. “Here, let me.” Placing a hand on his cheek, you carefully swiped your thumb over the corner of his mouth, locking eyes with him in the process. For a fraction of a second, the sounds and sights of the pub seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you.

The sound of a group of people roaring with laughter somewhere else in the pub snapped you out of your trance. You cleared your throat and looked down at your lap before briefly looking back up at Tom, absentmindedly sucking the cream off of the tip of your thumb. “There. Right as rain.”

“Thanks,” Tom choked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Thanks.” He gave a nervous chuckle and the two of you turned your attention back to Kaitlyn, who had not only stopped coughing, but was actively staring at the two of you with her mouth agape.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, annoyed.

“What?” you and Tom asked in unison. She merely rolled her eyes and let her forehead fall forward into her palm.

After that, you managed to loosen up a bit and just enjoy yourself. You caught up with Kaitlyn and Warren and a few others from the film you’d done together and just generally enjoyed yourself. All the while, you were still hyper aware of Tom’s presence, finding the slightest excuse to touch him in the most innocent ways, and you could have sworn he was doing the same. One of you would briefly put their hand on the other’s arm or back, when you’d sit, it would be close enough that your legs would just barely touch, or sometimes you’d even just barely graze your hand against his when walking by. At first you told yourself it was completely innocuous, ignoring the high it gave you each time. But as the night went on, the more it happened, and the more you had to pretend like you weren’t playing with fire. All you wanted to do was let go and have fun, something you hadn’t done in weeks. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

About half way through the night, during a rather rousing quarters tournament, a petite young red headed woman called Lily arrived at the party. Apparently, she and Kaitlyn went to uni together, but what surprised you was that Tom knew her as well.

“Tommy!” she greeted him excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck as they hugged.

Tom gave her a few strokes on the back before pulling away, looking at her with a large grin on his face. “How are you? I didn’t know you knew Kaitlyn!”

“It’s a small world isn’t it? I’m doing well! What have you been up to?” She hooked her arm under his and dragged him away while they talked. He didn’t even introduce you to her. Your jaw clenched as you did your best to turn your attention back to the game, but you couldn’t help glancing over at them. She was more touchy with him in their one conversation than you’d been with him all night. You were beginning to get an idea of just how well they knew each other. Occasionally you caught him glancing back at you, a look of concern on his face. You assumed it was guilt, or pity, or both. But when Lily also looked at you with the same face, you could no longer pretend that you were okay. You needed some air.

“I’ll be right back, Kait,” you told Kaitlyn, before making a beeline for the alley door.

As the door shut behind you, you leaned back against the brick, looking up at the sky and blinking back tears. You had no time to gather yourself, however, before Tom came to find you.

“Y/n–” As soon as he saw you, his features dropped with concern. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said, wiping your eyes, but there was no hiding the tears that had already escaped down your cheeks.

“No, you’re not.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, knowing you were blatantly lying to him. “What’s wrong?” He stepped in front of you and cupped your face in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” you looked down at your feet, but he gently lifted your face to look at him.

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make me worry any less.” His piercing blue eyes desperately searched yours for the answers you refused to give him, while your own gaze pleaded with him to let it go. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, he sighed and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you closing your eyes for a moment. You brought one hand up to cradle the back of his head while the other rested on his chest. Tilting your head up, you lightly grazed the tip of your nose along the side of his, and he responded in kind. Your breathing became shallow and you could feel his heart racing under your palm. You looked at his lips and he at yours, electricity flowing across the millimeter gap between them until finally, they touched. The kiss made your breath hitch and your heart flutter. For a moment, you felt like you were floating, like you were safe, like you were home, until you realized what was happening. Shit.

You broke the kiss abruptly and stepped away from him. “I can’t do this.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before looking earnestly at you. “Why?”

“Because I can’t, Tom,” you replied, the pain in your voice clear as ever.

“That’s not a reason.” He sounded frustrated.

Your eyes welled up even more as you shook your head. “You’re not being fair.”

“I’m not being fair? Y/n, I can feel you pulling away from me and you won’t tell me why.”

Beginning to feel defensive, you rolled your teary eyes at him. “You’re just sore because you can’t fuck me anymore.”

Tom froze for a moment, raising his eyebrows at you. “Wow,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I am sick of you always making assumptions about me based on your own insecurities.”

Your pain and anger continued to rise. “You’re just not used to someone seeing past the whole Prince Charming façade and calling you out on your bullshit. I hate to break it to you, but not every woman you put your dick into falls for your little act.”

“Fuck you, Y/n,” he snapped back. “You’re so damaged that no one even has a chance at getting close to you.”

Feeling a sharp stab in your chest, your eyes shot back to him in disbelief, then narrowed with rage. “You know what? If that’s the way you feel, then get the fuck out of my life.”

“Gladly,” he hissed as he yanked the alley door open and disappeared into the pub, leaving you standing there alone, your body shaking and tears streaming down your face.

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly , @the-princess-of-loki , @princess-ofthe-pages , @darcylikesloki , @kikster606 , @foxherder , @simone818283 , @newtomofgods @christinebloodwrittings @tom-hlover , @lulubelle814 , @kingliam2019, @leniram1890

#tom hiddleston #original content #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston multichapter series

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bardic-tales · 2 days ago

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Title: Heaven

Pairing: Bianca Moore(f!oc) x Sephiroth

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1384

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Warnings: Eroticism, intimacy, dominant/submissive themes, possessive dynamics, emotional vulnerability, references to past trauma

Summary: In the quiet solitude of their hidden cabin, Bianca and Sephiroth share an intimate bath, a moment of quiet devotion and unspoken understanding.

Author's Note: Sephiroth is a service dom in Fantasy Worlds Collide, even as the One-Winged Angel. His need for control is deeply intertwined with his desire to care for Bianca. This interpretation draws inspiration from the ending scene of the Nibelheim Incident, before Cloud’s infamous counterattack, where Sephiroth, despite his godlike presence, displayed a quiet, almost reverent focus on Jenova. That moment of intense devotion resonated with me, shaping how he approaches his bond with Bianca, not just as a dominant force, but as someone who finds fulfillment in tending to her needs, ensuring her well-being, and reinforcing their unbreakable connection.

💞🌹Happy Valentine’s Day to those who celebrate! Thank you for supporting Bianca and Sephiroth since I decided to share their story on Tumblr. I appreciate every one of you.

The fire crackled softly in the corner of their secluded cabin. Its warmth gently mingled with the faint scent of vanilla and lavender. Bianca leaned back against the edge of the clawed bathtub set before the crackling black marble fireplace and felt the weight of her head settle on the porcelain. Her long, onyx hair cascading in wet waves around her. The tub was deep. Sephiroth had filled it with water infused with a few drops of vanilla, lavender, and milk. Droplets glided over her shoulders, drizzling down her breasts until meeting the surface of the white cloudy water. Rose petals floated on the top, occasionally bumping into her body. Tucked away in a corner of the North Crater, untouched by time, the cabin seemed far from the chaos of their lives. Here, it was just the two of them.

Sephiroth stood at the side of the bath. His imposing figure was a strange contrast to the intimate, peaceful atmosphere. His long silver hair hung loosely, parting in front of his cyan eyes. Those sharp cat-like irises watched her with an intensity that made her shiver—not from fear, but from the deep, possessive care he had for her.

No, Sephiroth never feared her. He was perhaps the only thing in Creation to accept her just as she was: a cosmic entity capable of doing great evil. The absence of his coat, pauldrons, and gloves left him bare from the waist up. His broad, muscular chest glistened as the flickering light of the candles swayed. His pecs were visible under the crisscrossing suspenders that held his large stomach guard in place. How many times had she traced the Shinra logo engraved into the black leather with her fingertips, feeling the groves and indents beneath her skin? His presence was a force in the room, but tonight, there was something softer, something quieter about him: a reverent and almost worshipful side that only Bianca had ever seen.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice smooth, carrying a subtle undercurrent of concern that only she could recognize.

Bianca didn’t answer at first. Instead, she closed her eyes, relishing the gentle pressure of the warm water against her skin. The bath seemed to soothe her, calm the frayed edges of her soul. How long had it been a long time since she had felt this vulnerable, this unguarded? Five years ago? In Nibelheim?

"No," she murmured, her voice low, almost a purr. "I’m fine, Seph." Her indigo eyes flicked up to him, meeting his intense gaze. "Just… stay with me."

A subtle twitch of his lips—the barest hint of a smile—was the only response before his hand reached down. He bent forward and curled his long fingers around her chin beneath the water. His touch, heavy with unspoken vows, pressed into her chest; a silent promise, a reminder of their shared destiny, her heart thrumming in a rhythm of belonging.

With a measured grace, Sephiroth knelt fully beside the tub. The defined muscles in his legs shifted beneath the tight, black fabric of his trousers. He never took his eyes off her as he reached for a soft black washcloth with silver embroidery, dipping it in the warm water, and slowly, almost deliberately, ran it over her bare skin.

The sensation of the cloth gliding over her was almost too much to bear: the warmth, the softness, and the intimacy of his touch, sending a rush of heat to her cheeks. Although his hands were always powerful, a new stillness and gentleness hung over them that night; they felt different. His hands moved with a tenderness that spoke of years spent understanding her soul, each touch acknowledging the unspoken burdens she carried.

His touch was slow and unhurried. Every movement of the washcloth was a caress, every stroke an act of devotion. He moved from her shoulders down her arms, tracing the curve of her collarbone with a tenderness that made her breath catch. His cyan eyes drifted to the swell of her breasts floating on the surface of the water: a heated gaze that told what he wanted in an intensity that words wouldn’t have been able to. The touch was possessive, a branding that marked her as his; the warm water, scented with lavender and vanilla, washed away the grime and the lingering chill of the harsh world.

“Bia,” he whispered, his voice low, the sound of her name falling from his lips like a prayer. It was a tone that he used for her: not Jenova, only her. “You are mine. I am glad you stopped pretending you aren’t.”

The words echoed in the room's silence, but it wasn’t just the words that mattered. The feeling was overwhelming: the weight of his touch, the quiet intensity of his gaze, and the way he made her feel both loved and utterly his. She shuddered, leaning into his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping her lips as she reveled in the warmth of his presence.

She felt him lean over her. His lips brushed against her warm skin, licking up the droplets of water from her neck. His breath warm against her ear, nipping the soft lobe with his teeth.

“Do you feel it, little bird? The bond between us?” His voice was a gentle murmur, but behind it lay a strength as solid as rock, a palpable power that emanated from him. “You are everything to me. When we finally open the path to the Promised Land, you will rule beside me and Mother.”

Bianca’s breath hitched. To her, his words were a sweet melody, filling her heart with commitment and hope. Like a warm embrace, they offered reassurance, unwavering affirmation, and a bond that wove them together, tighter than anything she had ever known; an unbreakable connection. In this moment, she felt the tug of their connection—a powerful force that transcended time and space, a warmth spreading through her chest, like a silent promise.

He dipped the washcloth again. This time, he slid it lower, the whisper-soft fabric gliding over her stomach, arousing her skin. His hands, large and steady, continued their meticulous work, their touch feather-light yet firm. Each motion was more intimate than the last. He washed her slowly and methodically, as if savoring the act of caring for her, taking pleasure in the simple intimacy between them.

Every accidental brush of his fingers or palm against her skin sent shivers of warmth through her, a heat far more intense than the fire’s glow or the hot water. It was him. It was always him. The man beneath the titles ignited in Bianca, a Celestial being, feelings she shouldn’t have known: a burning love, an overwhelming desire, and a wild, intoxicating loss of self.

“Sephiroth,” she whispered, her voice thick with a need that stirred deep inside her. Her hand rose. With a tremor in her fingers, she lightly touched his chest, her fingers brushing against the damp leather of his suspenders. A delicious tremor started deep within her, radiating slowly outward until her whole body was trembling, causing her thighs to clench tightly together. She moaned, then. “I can’t...”

But he didn’t relent to hear more. While washing her, he leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against the crown of her head. His touch was a paradox: simultaneously unyielding in its firmness and gentle in its caress. He didn’t need words to convey his devotion. His actions spoke louder than anything he could ever say.

Time seemed to slow down as each minute stretched into an eternity, each moment unfolding like a breathtaking and seemingly endless dream. As Bianca melted into his gentle care, she felt herself sinking deeper into the tranquil, secluded haven they had built together, a refuge from the outside world. The world outside was far away. Here, in this cabin, there were only the two of them. Without words, their bond was clear, a silent understanding woven into the fabric of their shared moments; it was present in the stillness between them, the intimacy of their touch, and the subtle dance of his movements.

The bath, the quiet, the warmth? These were all hers. They were his. Their fates written not in the stars, but in the fire of their love.

tagging some fellow mutuals. Thank you all for showing interest in my Bianca.

@asirensrage @themaradwrites @whatwedointhecraft @serenofroses @megandaisy9

@watermeezer

@seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap @arrthurpendragon

@inkandimpressions

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thatfragilecapricorn30 · 2 days ago

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rain check?

msr, post-detour romance & humor | 1.6k words | ao3 tagging @today-in-fic & @poangpals

written for the @unremarkablehouse for the secret valentine exchange. my fellow poangpal, i hope you like this & i'm v happy our paths crossed on ye olde discord <3

After a few years of working together, Mulder and Scully started an unofficial tradition of closing a case with a night out at O’Callahan’s, a dive bar not far from the Hoover Building. Mulder liked it because it reminded him of his Oxford days and Scully liked it because her Aunt Olive sometimes brought young Dana and her siblings to the local pub when she was supposed to be babysitting.

O’Callahan’s was a little grungy, but its drink specials and decent nachos drew a pretty large crowd on a Friday night. Luckily, Mulder and Scully arrived early enough to snag a booth in view of the bar but not too far from the bathrooms, the ideal spot in Scully’s mind.

Usually they drank a beer, shared an appetizer, and commiserated about work for a few hours, then went home to their respective apartments. But tonight, Scully was feeling a little tense, so she ordered a tequila soda. Mulder raised his eyebrows, then ordered whiskey neat for himself.

It had been a long week. They were on loan to the BSU; Scully had conducted a few autopsies and the paperwork they generated was another part-time job. When she wasn’t at Quantico, she was sitting in on briefings, where she was distracted by Mulder. For once, he wasn’t actually doing anything distracting, but his mere presence produced feelings of longing that Scully found difficult to suppress. Those feelings had been there for a while, but this week they were simmering even closer to the surface. Mulder and Scully had just gotten back from Florida and Scully thought she was throwing out all kinds of signs. Signs that she wanted him more than a partner or a friend. Signs that she was ready to take the next step. The fact that Mulder ignored them, consciously or unconsciously, was driving Scully crazy.

Hence, the hard liquor.

Scully finished her first drink quickly and relished the way the alcohol warmed her stomach. Mulder followed soon after, then got up to get them another round. She watched as he walked to the bar, enjoying how his pants pulled across his ass. Scully shook her head. The alcohol was supposed to be dulling these thoughts, not enhancing them.

Mulder returned their glasses to the bartender, his rolled-up shirtsleeves exposing toned forearms. Just a little bit of skin and Scully wanted to unbutton the top of her blouse to cool off. She really needed that second drink to tamp down her desire that was beginning to overwhelm her.

While Mulder was waiting for their next round, the pub started filling up with patrons. An attractive, well-dressed man went up to the bar, presumably to order drinks, and he greeted Mulder. The stranger was smiling, talking animatedly, and then gently touched Mulder on the shoulder before heading back to his table. Scully’s eyes bugged out of her head. Who was that? And why was he touching Mulder? Someone hitting on Mulder always annoyed her, but tonight it was especially grating.

Mulder returned with fresh drinks and Scully didn’t waste any time grilling him.

“Mulder, who was that?” she questioned.

“Who was who?” he asked, as he slid back into the booth, pushing her tequila soda across the table.

“That man at the bar.”

Mulder shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. He just asked if I came here often. I said sometimes after work.”

Scully sighed and looked heavenward. No wonder Mulder ran out of his motel room when she brought over wine and cheese. “Mulder, you didn’t realize he was flirting with you?”

“No, he wasn’t,” he scoffed, but then looked a little unsure. She saw him glancing toward where the man was seated.

Things were starting to click in Scully’s mind. It was becoming apparent that she was going to have to make the first move if she wanted their relationship to progress.

“Straight men are so oblivious,” she complained.

“Who says I’m straight?” he asked, leaning back in the booth and looking her in the eye.

Scully couldn’t say she was totally surprised but it was still disconcerting (and, let’s face it, very hot) to hear Mulder divulge something about this sexuality. And the images his proclamation conjured were definitely not helping matters.

Scully took a large gulp of her drink and made a proclamation of her own.

“Well, if I have to compete with both men and women, I’m not going to be happy,” she said, emboldened by the tequila.

Mulder choked a little on his own drink. “Compete?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Mulder looked at her for a second and then grinned. “You know, it’s cute when you’re jealous.”

“Mulder, I’m armed,” she threatened.

Mulder smiled even bigger and took a sip of his drink. “Scully, you have to know that you’re in a league of your own.”

Now it was her turn to smile. She knew that alcohol was the cause of these admissions but at this point she didn’t care.

Then Mulder started crooning terribly off-key, leaning across the table to get close to her, “I only have eyes for youuuuuu,” which cemented the point.

She pushed him away. “Ugh, Mulder you need voice lessons!” And maybe some black coffee to sober up.

He laughed. “Okay, you sing something then.”

“I don’t sing.”

“You sang on the mothman case.”

“That was life or death.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Fine, it wasn’t, but it wasn’t in public.”

“So, I guess you don’t like karaoke?”

“Do I look like someone who does karaoke?”

“Wow, Scully, don’t let anyone tell you that you’re no fun.”

“What! I’m very fun!” she argued.

Mulder clapped his hands together. “Let’s do something fun then.”

“Like what, Mulder?” She hoped his idea of fun was going back to one of their apartments for some adult time.

He grabbed his jacket and pulled her out of the booth by hand. “l have an idea.”

They ended up at an ice cream parlor.

“Really, Mulder?” Scully sighed. So much for the naked pretzel.

“Neither of us have eaten dinner and dessert before dinner is always fun! Plus, it’s winter and ice cream is always more enjoyable when it’s cold out.” He had that look of boyish glee that appeared on his face when talking about cryptids or aliens.

Oh, you precious angel, she thought, then stopped herself. Wow, the tequila was really working tonight!

Scully let him drag her into the ice cream parlor. She was not allowed to order frozen yogurt because that was not “fun.” For some reason, “fun” had a lot of rules. Mulder got a banana split and Scully got a hot fudge sundae.

“Do you want a bite?” he asked, holding out his spoon full of ice cream. He had some whipped cream stuck to his lip, which gave her a better idea.

“Yes,” she said and leaned over to press her lips against his. After a moment, she pulled away and used her napkin to clean up the whipped cream on his face that her lips didn’t get.

Mulder looked shocked, still holding the spoon out to her. She took it from him and cleaned it off with her tongue. Mulder’s eyes widened even more.

“I told you I can be fun,” Scully said with a wink. She placed the spoon back in his bowl.

“Scully!” Mulder hissed. “You can’t do something like that in public!”

Scully noticed him discreetly crossing his legs, even though G-rated Disney movies had more passionate kisses than the one she just gave Mulder.

“Your apartment is closer,” she said, swirling her spoon through melted fudge.

“Let’s go,” he said and pushed their ice cream out of the way so that they could get up from the table.

“What’s the big hurry?” Scully teased.

“A beautiful woman asked to go back to my apartment, that’s the big hurry,” Mulder responded.

She laughed and let him pull her along, out the door. Luckily, there was a taxi idling on the corner and they hopped right in. Mulder told the cabbie his address and then leaned back next to Scully.

He smelled nice, like his cologne at the end of a long day combined with the aroma of fresh waffles from the ice cream parlor, so Scully pushed her nose into his shirt and breathed in. She wanted to do more than that, cab driver be damned, but unfortunately the buzz was starting to wear off and common sense was returning. Mulder put his arm around her and pulled her close.

Scully couldn’t wait to kiss him again, to hopefully do a lot more, but wanted to wait until she could do it properly and not with an audience. When they arrived at Mulder’s apartment, Scully beelined to the bathroom to freshen up. She was excited but also a little nervous and wondered if Mulder felt the same way.

When she came out, Mulder was fast asleep on his couch, snoring in time to the water filter on his fish tank. Scully sighed. Despite his bigger size, she always held her liquor better than him, so she should have expected this outcome. She could wake him – and was sure he wouldn’t mind – but he looked so peaceful. Instead, Scully draped the Aztec blanket over Mulder instead, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and wrote him a quick note before heading home.

---------------------

When Mulder woke up the next day, the sun glaring through his open blinds, he was confused. The last thing he remembered was eating ice cream with Scully and now he was on his couch. He saw a note propped up next to a glass of water. It read: Rain check?

Mulder let out a sigh, the memories returning. Scully kissing him. Them getting in the cab to come back to his apartment. Twice in two weeks he fumbled the best thing that ever happened to him.

Mulder put the note in his pocket and grabbed his wallet and keys. The sun was shining, and it wasn’t going to rain today.

#txf fic #my.txf #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #the x files #txf #poangpals

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msookyspooky · 2 days ago

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♡ Ghostface Yandere HC ♡

Pt 1

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎: 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚂𝚝𝚞, 𝙼𝚒c𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗, Jill, Ethan

TW: Very Dark Themes, Blood, Murder, Noncon/Dubcon, Abuse, 18+ Mature Themes: DLDR

Divider by @strangergraphics

🩸 Happy Valentines Day 🫀

𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤:

♡ Is a secret Yandere that isn't very good at hiding it but tries. He is obsessed yet doesn't show it till he can't handle how much he needs you

♡ Has so many lyrics and written love notes about you stored away

♡ Compares your relationship to Movie Couples and it gets progressively worse. "We're kinda like Chucky and Tiffany." you can take as joke. But soon "I think Jack Torrance had the right idea." or "I wouldn't be mad if you were like Anne Wilkes." starts to become...Unnerving.

♡ Thinks you're so deep and different than the people of Woodsboro. Holds you to an impossible standard and gets enraged / hurt when you accidentally shatter his delusion

♡ Tries to spare you from his Woodsboro Massacre but traumatized you regardless. Calling you and chasing you down in costume near or on that night almost like a sexual tease to himself

♡ He never Sexual Assaults you despite the filthy, proactive, awful fantasies he tells you over the phone through the voice modulator. He has a massive Madonna Whore complex and refuses to look at you as the latter.

♡ He trusts movie logic that pure virgins live; and you're not like those other weak sluts, are you? No, you are the most pure thing to him. His Angel that he can corrupt on his terms.

♡ His Angel to pluck your wings and glue them back on while kissing your tears away. He loves you more than Horror Movies or his Mother or Revenge and he is NEVER letting you go.

♡ In his eyes, it's only you and him in this town. You don't need family, friends, not even pets if they occupy more of your time than him. You don't need anyone else.

𝕊𝕥𝕦 𝕄𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣:

♡ Flirts shamelessly in front of others. Even if you have a partner, he flirts and side eyes them the whole time. In fact, they're gonna come up dead soon anyways

♡ A total yandere through and through that doesn't even hide it; it just gets played off as flirting or jokes. He plays the goofy, laid-back, cool guy but he cannot hide his emotions; especially his obsession for you

♡ He could sniff your hair or steal your jacket and inhale it in private as if it's a lifeline and because he's such a funny cool guy; it gets played off for laughs. He can say, 'I'm totally gonna lock you in my basement.' with a goofy grin and everyone, even you, thinks it's a joke...He's dead serious behind that smile.

♡ Manipulates you with gifts to make you feel bad. Anything you want, he gets. Money's no option for him, babe.

♡ Weeks later those phone calls start

♡ When he comes on too strong and you turned him down; the mask falls. He gets angry and insults you even making threats like 'you'll regret it'

♡ He relishes your fear. It turns him on and he doesn't hide that fact. But his harmless scare pranks are lining up suspiciously with the killers whereabouts...

♡ Once he chases you he teases you seductively with that knife. Loves the way your breath catches and you tremble. Ah, you're just so cute to him like this! All doe eyed and scared.

♡ He gives you an ultimatum; strip for him and do what he says or die. He may have his own complexes but he didn't believe in the horror movie rules like Billy; he just needed an excuse to kill for fun. And you? You looked VERY fun...A different kind of fun than just killing.

♡ He makes the experience orgasmic as it is primal like the real him comes out once the knife is in hand. Sure, maybe you'll cry from being violated, having his gloved fingrrs over every inch of your trembling form. You cry yet he gives you so much pleasure as he devotes his every touch to you. Best part? With that mask you don't even know it's him.

♡ When you're traumatized he comes by later to 'Borrow something' and finds you crying and in turmoil over your body enjoying what your mind didn't

♡ He comforts you and shhes you so tenderly as you cling to him. Promises Ghostface won't come back for you so long as he's around but you probably should let him stay the night just to keep you safe

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚:

♡ He wants no one but you. He'd only kill you if you forced him to and he'd make it the most pleasurable erotic death one could imagine and desecrate your corpse like a work of art; like a shrine.

♡ He could be your dog at your feet or your worst nightmare; your choice.

♡ He knows how to play up the goofy vibe to get what he wants but the second you irk him; his eyes darken and a slight sneer appears...He has to hide it. Can't have you knowing he's a serial killer. Not yet at least.

♡ Another yandere that doesn't hide well

♡ Met you in Film Theory and thinks you playfully debating him was foreplay. You want him so bad you're just being shy; he just knows it

♡ Like Stu but less flashy. Gets you coffee, donuts or roses regularly

♡ He's so good at disarming you. He knows how to be a good guy and friend, knows how to make the flirting disguised as playful banter, and yet...He can't quite hide the way he looks at you like you're a piece of meat he wants to devour.

♡ Records everything about you You're his muse.

♡ Takes you to all the parties and keeps you on his arm all night and the second he has a meltdown over you talking to a 'friend' in his eyes you see a side you don't like and try to get away

♡ It's not long before a Ghostface shows up and drags you to the nearby wooded area near campus

♡ He's too excited to not reveal himself and threatens you; be mine or every friend you have dies

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕣:

♡ Takes Advantage of you in a way that feels like requited love to him. You were shuddering and sniffling back tears from being overwhelmed that's all. Especially while gagging on him slowly while he recorded you thinking you were the most magnificent being in the World.

♡ Holds you while your spacing out at this predicament. Petting your hair with a smile as if you just made love because in his mind, you did. You'll learn to love him as he tells you in detail how he's killed people and how many to let it sink in how you better be good to him

♡ Might even let you watch his 'video projects' including the one you just filmed on your knees crying and gagging on it as he whispers sweet nothings to you. He adores you.

♡ A yandere that hides it well. Charming Director that just thought you'd be a perfect Scream King/Queen for his latest flick and NO ONE is the wiser

♡ Pays extra attention to you. Pays for you to have the best dressing room, fresh fruit and flowers daily best hair and makeup and wardrobe. He treated you like you were an A-Lister.

♡ Little did you know...Roman already knows everything about you and scouted you out on purpose for no other reason but thinking he was attracted to you and deserved you. No one deserves you as much as him

♡ He becomes extremely demanding of your time even when everyone else is going home and definitely puts the moves on you in a subtle way while being able to apologize and reel it in just enough for you to feel silly for thinking he was anything but professional

♡ He wanted a nude/semi nude scene with you in it you weren't sure about but after a lot of convincing; you concede

♡ Has nothing but possessive, dark lust in his eyes while watching you perform; fires, yells at, kills anyone for looking at you or touching you too long even if it's in their job description

♡ You try to talk to him after he went on a firing / yelling rampage and he gave a chuckle of barely suppressed rage that, 'You're my muse; NO ONE elses.'

♡ You started realizing this was beyond unprofessional when it was too late and you were deep in this screening and contracts

♡ If you try to quit? You see a heartbroken Roman that is nothing more than the tip of the iceberg

♡ You soon get visited by Ghostface that roughens you up with bruises, cuts, manhandling, groping. You had a bloody lip he'll kiss better later and was getting choked and fondled at the same time and unable to get away. C'mon even if you were fighting it was all acting baby! He just knew you secretly liked it in his mind. Just like all those secret videos of you he recorded of your private life. He just knew you had to have seen the camera and played coy with him in his deranged mind.

♡ He reveals himself after having some 'fun' and shows you a contract you signed that if you wanted to work in Hollywood again and didn't want to die you'd be in many of his films working close with eachother...He owns you.

𝕁𝕚𝕝𝕝 ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕤:

♡ She's a Yandere that teeters between being inconspicuous and obvious all depending on how much or how little she gets her way with you as her possession

♡ You had been friends with her for a while and you always thought she was extremely sweet and understanding but very, very jealous. You couldn't be friends with others without her making an issue of it

♡ Has whole collages, collections, heartshaped photos of you two as 'best friends'

♡ She always strings you along and the second you've had enough of her drama she'll cry softly or beg and lure you back in. It's almost a game she finds endearing in her fucked up mind.

♡ She never cared about Trevor, only you. You would never betray her like Trevor, would you? Of course not. She KNOWS you. She knows you better than you know yourself. You're just such a cute naive idiot she has to look out for in the world.

♡ She leaves you out of the plan to get fame by killing. She doesn't even want you in the limelight together because it takes attention away from her AND...Why should anyone get to look at what's hers?

♡ You see the cracks in her facade when you do something that 'wasn't part of her plans' and she has a complete meltdown in a way that leaves you reeling. Not even recognizing her as she rages, throws things, breaks shit and demands you stop doing whatever it is your doing

♡ If you call off your 'friendship'? She'll kill you first. You belong to her. You're property at this point and If she can't have you? No one can.

♡ Dresses as Ghostface, something she usually lets her lacky do but considers it good roleplaying foreplay as she hunts you down, beats the shit out of you from hurling you into things to almost killing you multiple times. After all, you're her's to do whatever to.

♡ Takes off the mask glaring down at you while your on the ground. You made her do this. It didn't have to be this but you forced her!

♡ Straddles you and strips your shirt off with her knife while kissing and biting all over you talking about having her way with you one last time before she hacks you up because a dead you that belongs to her is better than you moving on without her

♡ If you convince her to let you live? You're hers entirely. From what you wear to who you hang out with...Oh, it's not so bad. Just think; once she gets away with it you and her can never do this Ghostface crap again and live happily ever after with her and only her

𝔼𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕪:

♡ Yandere disguised as a Golden Retriever that people would argue with you he's just 'clingy' or 'sensitive'. It's very effective.

♡ Is devoted to you and no one but you. Makes you gifts, buys you things that remind him of you, offers you anything of his, frets over you constantly, tries to please you in anyway he can

♡ His yandere side doesn't come out till he sees you talking to another guy like Chad too long...And you look over to see such a dark menacing stare. It didn't look like the Ethan you knew

♡ Any arguments have him spiraling and screaming at you and breaking something that makes you jerk back in shock before he'll crumble in front of you to your feet crying and apologizing. Begging you to overlook his red flags. It was a mistake! That's all.

♡ He keeps you attached to him for a lot longer than most because he's so incredibly good at guilt tripping

♡ He needs you. He cannot live without you. His whole life is consumed in revenge and malice and you're the light in the tunnel for him. A day without you is like a day without sunshine

♡ Calls or text you constantly and if you don’t answer? His text don’t get meaner, oh no, he just becomes Ghostface and stalks you

♡ God help you if he sees you even with a friend or family member (hopefully a stranger or acquaintance) ignoring his text to talk to them

♡ He's emotionally driven and cannot help when he attacks. Kills them and stalks towards you covered in blood. Once the mask is off you see just how deranged he really is. Going from threatening and lecturing you to smiling and saying how you both can be together and just DON'T shut him out ever again and everything will be okay

♡ He becomes extremely tied to you. You cannot go anywhere or do anything without him involved. He loves you, don't you see it? Now, say it back or else; maybe you have too many other people near you taking up the love you should be giving to him? He can fix that.

#scream #stu macher #billy loomis #scream hc #scream imagines #scream imagine #mickey alteri #roman bridger #jill roberts #nancy loomis

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her-devils-advocate · 2 days ago

Text

Avise’davathe’din

pairings: Female Lavellan x Solas

summary: The Inquisitor has fallen ill. Luckily for her, Cole and Solas are there to look after her.

Currently ill in bed and have been for the whole week, so I wrote this to make myself feel better.

word count: 1,481

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63088276

She slowly opened her eyes, finding herself buried under a dozen thick furs that had been protectively pulled up to her chin. The room was almost pitch black, the fire having died during her unexpected sleep. A light sound caught her weary attention, and just rolling her neck drew a muffled groan from her chapped lips. She watched with bleary eyes as the curtains fluttered with the gentle winter breeze. It is then that Lavellan realised with a sinking horror that she must have fallen asleep with the balcony doors open, the crisp air continued to seep into the dark room and infiltrate her fluffy cocoon.

She mumbled incoherently as she weakly pulled at the blankets, trying to release herself from their weight. The small battle had sapped what little energy she had left despite her rest, yet she continued to crawl out of bed and shuffled towards the doors.

The tiles beneath her bare feet were ice cold, cold enough to make her regret ever leaving the plush confines of the bed.

As if sensing her weakened state, the wind picked up. What was a gentle breeze quickly morphed into a strong gust, almost succeeding in sending her toppling backwards. The wind caught at her loose nightgown, soaked with sweat, and tugged at her messy hair. Relana almost recoiled when her hand grasped at the door handle, the cold metal violently stung her sensitive skin, feeling like little needles piercing into her flesh. She bit her lip to hold back her whimper before nudging it shut with her shoulder, using the solid frame to support her body while she sagged down to the ground.

With great effort, she pulled her knees to her chest as shivers continued to take over her body. She mournfully stared at her bed, yet the thought of moving caused her muscles to ache in protest. The back of her head dropped against the door in defeat as she mentally prepared to spend the night on the floor.

Her eyes felt heavy, fighting against gravity as they fluttered shut before a voice caused them to open once more, “Vhenan?”

Solas quietly ascended the stairs and made his way towards her, but not before grabbing one of the blankets she had thrown to the ground in her struggle. He knelt in front of her and carefully draped it around her shoulders, her tired eyes not once breaking away from his concerned stare.

He placed the back of his hand against her forehead and sighed, “You still have a fever. What are you doing out of bed?”

She slowly nuzzled against his hand, relishing his kind touch with a small smile before she recoiled out of fear of inflicting him with such an illness as well.

“Cold,” Lavellan muttered as she gestured to the doors behind her with her left hand, the anchor lightly pulsing, a sickly green light highlighting her miserable expression. Despite her reluctance, Solas was quick to take hold of her hand. His magic weaved around the anchor to stifle its attempts to cause more pain.

He glanced at the doors. Frost had since begun to climb up the glass and through the murky haze of night, he could spot snowflakes beginning to fall. His eyes then drifted down to the small elf curled against the white backdrop. He pinched the bridge of his nose and did his best to hold back the sigh that danced on his tongue, “Why were they open, Vhenan? I ensured they were properly closed after I left to fill your glass.”

She parted her lips to reply, but instead of words falling from her lips, a harsh cough broke through in their place. She winced as it tore past her already sore throat, leaving it raw.

“Hot. Too hot. The flesh prickles and stings, covers sticking, becoming a new skin. She can’t think, the thoughts sink to the bottom, slipping under. She tosses and turns in a daze, aware and unaware. It merges into one. Confusion and pain.” Cole appears beside Solas, crouching down and hesitantly reaching toward Lavellan. Solas gently caught his hand before it could make contact. “She woke up after you left.”

At that, Solas finally let out the sigh he tried to restrain. Despite his fondness for the spirit, his frustration was present in his words. “I understand, Cole. But it is a cold night, I’m afraid leaving her to the elements would only worsen her illness.”

“I’m sorry,” Cole murmured to the pair, his hat casting a shadow across his face as he lowered his head.

“It’s alright, I appreciate your help.” Relana did her best to give him her best reassuring smile. If the concerned faces she got from Cole and Solas were any indication, it came out as more of a grimace.

Without warning, a strong arm hooked itself under her knees while the other carefully supported her back as Solas lifted her into his arms. Lavellan let out a small, surprised wheeze before wiggling in protest. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry about me, vhenan. Focus on your own recovery.” He affectionately chided, wincing slightly when her elbow collided into his ribs while she fidgeted.

He quickly moved her towards the bed, Cole silently following on his heels like a shadow. He was careful when he lowered her onto the mattress, bringing her into a sitting position while he fluffed her pillows. He fussed around with the bedding until it was up to his standard, only then did he tap her shoulders to signal her to lean back. Once she had settled down, he reunited the furs with her chin, unable to hold back the small smile that graced his lips.

“You find this amusing?” She pouted up at him from her halo of pillows.

Solas’ lips parted, but Cole’s voice cut through before he could, “worry cuts through him like the ice outside. Cold and chilling. He doesn’t know. This is new, love and illness. Both grip and tug, worse when they mix.”

Solas’ eyebrows instantly fell into a small frown, a dusty pink settled across the tips of his ears as he watched the spirit. Cole hopped onto the bed by Lavellan’s legs, carefully maneuvering to cross his legs under him as he sat vigilant.

“Cole…” Solas warned as Cole tiptoed deeper into Solas’ mind, despite his voice lacking any real annoyance.

“You think you can’t breathe. But you can.” He supplied, ignoring Solas and focusing on her instead.

She nodded thoughtfully, as much as she could from under the blankets, at least. “I’m trying, Cole. Trust me, I’m really trying, but I feel closer to the dead roaming The Fallow Mire at the moment.”

Solas chuckled and walked around the bed to sit on his side, carefully running his hand through her long hair. “You exaggerate, my love.”

She turned her head to gaze up at him, watching as he relaxed against the headboard of the bed. The bedside table next to him was coated in various herbs and medical flasks. Too many, in her opinion.

“I can’t imagine I look any better, at least?” She amended, doing her best to keep the self conscious tone out of her voice. Her skin felt clammy and she couldn’t remember the last time she managed to sleep through the night, let alone having the energy to drag a brush through her hair. Though she found his fingers met very little resistance as he combed them through it.

He hummed and playfully tugged the end of the inky lock he was playing with, “you are always beautiful to me.”

She felt her face burn, she hoped that enough of her fever remained so she could have something to blame for her splotchy complexion.

“Months of longing, yearning, needing. Months and months. She should be used to it. She laments, her body blazes, and continues to burn with each touch, every soft spoken word. She finds it hard to believe, but she tries.” Cole’s voice caused her to jump as he peered at her from across the bed, his eyes seeming to shine in the dark.

“Thank you, Cole… You could have kept that one to yourself.” She drawled, sinking deeper into the sheets as if they could shield her from the eyes now locked onto her. Solas gently pulled back the furs and cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding to and fro over her cheekbone.

“I know,” he whispers and bends down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now get some rest, it is still early. We will keep an eye on you in case you grow worse. Josephine has cleared your schedule for the rest of the week so you can recover.”

“Okay, thank you.” She said as she felt her eyelids grow impossibly heavy, hellbent on dragging her into the fade. “Ar lath ma, ma’sa.”

#♥. writing #solavellan #solas dragon age #dragon age solas #solasmance #lavellan #female lavellan #solas x female lavellan #solas x inquisitor #cole dragon age

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3416 · 9 months ago

Note

I'm here in your inbox. Mitch Marner is arrogant. Can't wait for him to be gone offt hockey team. Berube will make sure of it.

omg thanks for coming. LKFJDSKLFKLS, i actually laughed out loud seeing the ask notif BUT ANYWAY... berube is legit gonna love him though................... even mike babcock didn't hate the guy despite deciding to psychologically torture him a bit as a rookie and even THAT wasn't enough to run him off..... i'm not gonna argue mitch doesn't have an ego, as every talented pro player does, but i do think it's incredibly funny that you (and everyone that shares those opinions) think mitch isn't one of the hardest working or maybe THE most versatile player the leafs have. accountability isn't something mitch marner lacks, as much as that's the tone deaf narrative in leafs-uncle-land.

#easks #i feel like anyone who shit talks mitch actually has never seen an ounce of mitch marner content in their life tbh FJLKJDSX #like im not gonna say oh hes sooo chill taking critique in public bc hes NOT #but thats not bc he NEVER receives it lol #he is very chill abt his teammates coming at him like i... did we not see that happen just last month #or this month idek what day it is #he relishes in the fact that he and auston can rip into each other and has said it #naturally he does not love when ppl who dont know hockey or arent in the room are part of that #bc the hate piles on easier w less logic or to a less productive end.#liek... please

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hayatoseyepatch · 28 days ago

Text

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

ＣｏｎｔｅｎｔＷａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓＮｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ－Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ－ＤｏｇｇｙＳｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ－ＭａｔｉｎｇＰｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ－Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ－Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

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