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#I don’t know how much I like the hair yet
Note
[🍩] soft!dom!rafe x breeding kink x corruption kink😜😜 with hella dirty talk😫
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warnings: bambi!reader, innocent!reader, established relationship, making out, heavy petting, pussy slapping, oral (f. receiving), rafe is messyyyyy lol, unprotected sex, rough sex, crying, blood (very little, it’s from a bite lol), breeding, multiple orgasms, rafe slaps you just once, corruption kink, lots of dirty talk, first time, loss of virginity, fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, slapping, soft aftercare, brief mentions of having kids
a/n: i think i got really carried away with this but breeding kink with bambi was something i wanted to write but was unsure of how to start it lol so thank you so much for this request 🤍
rafe was in heaven right now and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. he kissed you gently, the feeling of your fingers stroking his face while he caged you between his arms was everything he didn’t know he needed. “you show up in this pretty little dress of yours, did you have this planned?” you gasped when you felt his hand snake under the soft material of your dress, his touch skimming over the waistband of your underwear. “no. ‘just wanted to look pretty for you..” you whispered, those doe eyes of yours beaming up at the man on top of you. “you do. you look perfect.” rafe sighed.
slipping his tongue in your mouth, your eyebrows drew together as you couldn’t help but move your hips against the thigh he had between your legs. rafe looked down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you rut against him. “does that feel good?” he hiked your dress up, wanting a better view of your clothed cunt. you hummed, your skin flushing as rafe concentrated on the way you moved underneath him. hands roaming your body, there wasn’t an inch of you that went untouched. slipping your dress off, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest.
despite you two being together for a while, the furthest you two had ever gotten was making out and a little groping here and there, but that was it. rafe had no problem waiting until you were ready to go there. you shivered, the chilly air of rafe’s room making your nipples harden right before his eyes. “fuck, bambi..” he cupped one of your tits, a whimper leaving your lips when he leaned down and took the other in his mouth. “are you okay if i do this?” you glanced down at his hand moving your underwear to the side. meeting his eyes, you nodded. “please.”
rafe watched your face morph into one of full blown pleasure when he gathered the wetness at your entrance and glided the tips of his fingers to your clit. “you’re soaked.” he laughed, making you turn your head away from him out of shyness. grabbing your chin, rafe squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to look at him as his fingers started working your sensitive bundle of nerves. you were instantly trying to draw away from his digits, the motions being far too much for you at once. “shhh, don’t run from it,” he licked a stripe up the column of your throat, “let me watch you.” he smiled teasingly.
you smiled back, only for it to be wiped from your face when he slapped your folds, the sensation making you jolt. despite it stinging for a quick second, you started chasing his hand for more. “you want another one?” he slapped you again, this time making your thighs shake, “my little whore likes that, huh?” you were surprised at the name calling, but even more suprised when you found out you liked it. “talk to me, baby. tell me what you want..” his lips ghosted over yours. rafe had gotten you so wet, you could hear your slick with each stroke of his fingers. “wanna go all the way with you, ray..”
rafe swore he could hear the angels singing. he’s been waiting, anticipating for this day to come. “yeah?” he kissed you, slotting himself between your thighs before pulling away from your cunt. “yes. ‘want you so bad!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, sucking the remnants of you off of his digits. oh, god. pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. taking your underwears off in one swift movement, you palmed rafe in his shorts, your eyes widening when you felt how large he was in your hand.
“you’ll be fine, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you..” in rafe’s mind, you had already did this before, but the look on your face was starting to make him think otherwise. his suspicions were confirmed when you looked up at him with watery eyes. “is it going to hurt?” you whimpered, his erection resting heavily on your tummy. rafe studied you for a moment. “you’ve never had sex before?” you shook your head, biting your lip nervously. rafe felt so wrong for being so turned on at the revelation. “have you ever touched yourself?” rafe was on the brink of losing his mind. “no..”
that was it. this man was going to ruin you. “i’m sorry, it’s embarrassing.” you pouted, looking away from him. embarrassing? rafe felt like he could cum right then and there. “that’s not embarrassing at all, baby.” he reassured you, moving away any stray hairs you might’ve had in your face. “you know what that means? that means i get to turn you into my own personal little slut.” his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach. rafe unbuckled his belt, his shorts and boxers now long forgotten. despite being horny out of his mind, rafe still checked to make sure you were okay.
“are you sure about this, bambi?” you watched as he snaked down your body, hooking your thighs to his shoulders. a shaky breath left your lips, your hands intertwining with his as he pressed kisses to your flesh. “yes, i want you-” you were cut off by rafe’s tongue delving into your sweetness. your back arched off of his mattress, your thighs threatening to snap around his head. the only word you could use to describe the noises in rafe’s room was lewd. the slurping, grunting, moaning, it was all hitting you at once that this was actually happening.
rafe was so hard already, his own fist wrapped around his cock as he sloppily lapped at your soaked pussy. he couldn’t get enough. instinctively, you couldn’t help your hips from grinding against his face, your boyfriend doing everything to make you tremble and shake in pure bliss. you freed one of your hands from his grip and trailed it up your chest, squeezing your tit while rafe groaned at the sight. “i haven’t even put any fingers in you, baby, you’re going to be a mess by the time i actually fuck you.” you cried out when he sucked your clit, his middle finger prodding at your entrance.
gasping at the intrusion, rafe shushed you as you whimpered at the unfamiliar stretch. “how are we doing, sweetheart?” he looked up at you, cursing under his breath. you were so fucking tight, he could only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. “..hurts a little.” you took a breath, moaning when he curled his digit. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise baby. ‘gonna make you cum so fucking much.” he continued working on your clit, the added stimulation making your eyes screw shut. rafe waited until you were gasping his name before entering a second finger.
you practically screamed, your hands shooting down to dig your nails into his skin. “rafe, i think i’m!-” you froze, your eyes rolling back as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. suddenly you couldn’t breathe, your mouth falling open in a silent moan before your legs started to shake. rafe knew you were cumming and it only made him go rougher on you, wanting your first orgasm to be unforgettable. inserting a third finger, your eyes shot open as you thrashed against his sheets, your body trying to retract from him.
“r-rafe, s’too much! i can’t!” your words came out choppy with each breath you tried to take, your boyfriend eventually bringing you down from your high. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, your entire body feeling like jelly as rafe came up from between your thighs. the lower half of his face, and even the tip of his nose, was glistening with your slick. rafe had given you a taste of something you soon felt like you couldn’t get enough of. rafe grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down where he lined his cock up with your entrance.
you met each other’s eyes, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before he slammed into you, both of you having two different reactions. while rafe doubled over, absolutely enthralled by how tight you were, you were crying, your nails leaving crescents in rafe’s side. you were only able to take half of his length, but rafe was determined to give you the whole thing by the time he was done. while the feeling wasn’t exactly painful, you just felt so full. rafe took your lips in a searing kiss, pulling out before thrusting into you again. “you feel so fucking good, you know that?” he praised you.
rafe started thrusting into you until any sense of discomfort melted away. “oh my god, look at you taking me so fucking well..” rafe whispered against your skin, littering your neck and chest with kisses. wrapping your arms around his neck, you didn’t hold back from moaning underneath him. “rafe go faster, please!” your boyfriend smiled, pulling away momentarily to see that dark look in your eyes. “whatever you want, baby.” you cried out when his hips slammed into your own, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “oh, rafe..” you shuddered, now that you were filled to the brim.
“you’re so perfect, you want this dick everyday?” you nodded frantically, not seeing how you could go without it now. “yeah? i bet you do..” he laughed, “‘been wanting to corrupt you since i got you, baby. your sweet little innocent eyes looking up at me when i would rub you through your panties, you have no idea how bad i wanted to get you naked and fuck you until you were crying for me to stop.” he slapped your cheek, a gasp leaving your lips at the action. “look at you now, you’re gonna be begging for this all the time.. ‘might just fuck a baby into you, huh?” you whimpered at his words.
“i want that.” you panted, his pubic bone slamming down on your clit with each thrust. “yeah? you want me to fill you up? get you all pretty and pregnant?” god, what was happening to you? “yes, ray! i want it so bad, ‘want your babies!” now it was rafe’s turn to get hysterical, the idea of you growing round with his seed turned him on beyond belief. “fuck!” he grunted, “oh, i wanna see that so bad, ‘want you walking around tanneyhill with your tummy full. everyone will know what we did.. what you let me do to you.” rafe didn’t care if it was the heat of the moment making you two talk like this, he just knew that you were it for him.
“how about i breed you right now, bambi? you want that?” he hoped you’d say yes, considering he wasn’t going to last very long. when he felt you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in, he nearly lost it by how turned on he was that you wanted the same thing. “please give it to me!” you cried, your boyfriend pulling you into his chest where he embraced you, making you unable to move away from him. you buried your face in his neck, biting down on his flesh as his hips stuttered, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside of you. you relished in the feeling, your walls milking him for all that he had.
“son of a- fuck! you’re squeezing me so fucking hard.” he shivered, the feeling of you gripping him from the base was undeniably the best thing he’s ever felt. reaching down, rafe rubbed hard circles on your clit until you came around him, only making you spasm even more. after you had raked your nails down his torso, and drew blood from biting him so hard, rafe had pulled out of you with a hiss, not a single drop of cum dribbling out. you had taken it all. “holy shit, are you okay, babe?” you looked spent. droopy eyes, swollen lips, tear stained cheeks, rafe thought you couldn’t get any more prettier than this.
you spotted the bite mark on his neck. “ray, you’re bleeding..” you attempted to sit up but failed pathetically when your arms gave out from under you. “s’okay.. stay right here, i’ll be right back.” you were dazed, your vision hazy as rafe went to grab a cold towel. when he came back, the blood from the curve of his neck was gone and he wrapped you in his sheets. dabbing the towel on your forhead, you suppressed a giggle at his ministrations. “i’m okay, rafe.” you pecked his cheek, grabbing his arm so he could spoon you. pressing a kiss to your temple, he massaged soothing circles into your side.
“you were so good for me, baby..” he whispered, his words making your heart flutter in your chest. “you promise i wasn’t some amateur?” rafe shushed you, a laugh tumbling from his mouth. “no way, you were great. i don’t know how we’re gonna get through a day without ravaging each other.” you hummed, already daydreaming about the next time. “did you mean what you said earlier? about wanting a baby?” rafe turned you around so you were face to face. you trailed a finger down his jaw. “well, i’ve always wanted kids..” you smiled. “with me though?” rafe’s eyes softened when you nodded.
“with only you..”
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days
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Frat president || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: Unlike Rafe, you managed to balance your responsibilities as Sorority President with your personal life and relationships, something he just couldn’t seem to get right.
Warnings: angst!!!
Word count: 1,973
A/n: first time writing frat boy!rafe lmk if you wanna see more
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
The room was dimly lit, the golden glow from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the bed. You and Rafe lay tangled together under the sheets, the air thick with the heat of the moment. His hand slid across your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth wherever he touched. His lips found yours again, hungry and urgent, as though he had been waiting for this all day—between the calls, the meetings, the endless chaos that came with being the frat president.
"Missed you," he muttered against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy, his body pressing into yours. You smiled into the kiss, knowing he meant it. Rafe was always busy, always handling something, but when he was with you, it was like the world faded away. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.
You arched your body against his, feeling that familiar warmth between you, the kind of intimacy that only you two shared. But just as things were getting more intense, the worst sound shattered the mood—the loud buzzing of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. Rafe paused, pulling away just enough to glance at the screen. His eyes flickered with annoyance but also duty, and you knew what was coming.
"Don't," you whispered, your voice soft but pleading, fingers on his jaw to keep him focused on you. "Just a second," Rafe muttered, "it’s the guys." You groaned and sat up, wrapping the sheet around your body. "Of course it is." Rafe pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring your frustration as he answered, his tone switching from soft and intimate to authoritative. "Yeah, what's up?" His voice was commanding, the kind of tone that always came out when he dealt with frat business.
You leaned back against the pillows, pulling the sheets over your chest, watching as he got up from the bed, pacing the room like he was in some kind of frat office rather than your bedroom. You watched Rafe’s broad back as he paced across the floor, the low murmur of his voice carrying on a conversation that had nothing to do with you. Every word, every command he gave over the phone to one of his frat brothers only added to the frustration bubbling inside you.
His hand ran through his messy hair as he listened to whoever was on the other end, barking orders and sounding like a leader—like the Rafe everyone else knew. But that wasn’t the Rafe you wanted right now. "Seriously?" Rafe’s voice cut through the air, frustration dripping from his words as he dealt with yet another frat-related crisis. "No, tell him if he doesn't fix it, I'm pulling him from the party this weekend."
You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tugged the blanket tighter around you. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. You knew he had responsibilities, but this was supposed to be your time. His phone calls could’ve waited, just this once. But no, everything else always seemed to come first—the frat boys, the parties, the constant drama. It was like you were sharing him with the entire fraternity.
"I said, handle it. No—no, Jacob. I was clear about what you needed to do. Get it fixed, or both of you are looking at probation." Rafe’s voice was cold, sharp as a blade. He paused for a second, then scoffed bitterly. "I don’t care if he was drunk. I don’t give a damn about excuses—just get it done." Rafe snapped into the phone, his voice hard and distant, like he wasn’t the same guy who had just whispered how much he missed you.
You had felt so close to him just minutes ago, tangled in the sheets, his hands on your skin, making you forget everything. You thought tonight would be different, that for once, you could have him all to yourself. The warmth of his touch and the closeness you’d shared felt like a cruel joke now, as you sat alone on the bed, waiting while he dealt with something that wasn’t you.
You stated at the ceiling as his voice grated on your nerves. The anger was bubbling up faster now, impossible to ignore. The thought of being second to his frat boys made your heart ache, but it was more than that. It was the growing realisation that maybe, you’d always be second. Always waiting for him to put you first.
After a few more minutes of listening to Rafe handle the situation, you had enough. "Rafe," you said, your voice sharp as you interrupted him mid-sentence. He glanced over at you, his expression apologetic but still distracted. "Hang on, babe." That set you off. "No, you hang on. You’ve been on that phone for ten minutes. This was supposed to be our time. Remember?" Rafe sighed, covering the phone's speaker with his hand as he turned toward you. "I know, I’m sorry. This is important."
"And I’m not?" you shot back, feeling the sting of his divided attention. Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard by your words. "That’s not what I’m saying." "Sure feels like it," you muttered, turning away from him as you pulled the blanket over your shoulders. You felt the weight of your words settle between you both, a heavy tension replacing the heat from earlier.
Rafe exhaled loudly, covering the phone with his hand. "Babe, I’m handling it. Just give me a second." "That’s the problem, Rafe," you snapped, the anger flaring as you sat up, the blanket falling away from you. "It’s always 'just a second' with you. Always something more important than me. I thought this time would be different."
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated now. "It’s not like I want to deal with this shit right now, alright? But I’m the president. If I don’t fix these fucking problems, who will?" You shook your head, hurt and anger swirling in your chest. “I get it, Rafe. I know how much responsibility comes with being a president. Believe me, I have my own duties as sorority president. But I’ve learned to separate those responsibilities from my personal life, from us. Something you clearly can’t seem to get a grip on.”
Rafe’s face flushed with frustration. “You think I don’t care about us? You think I’m choosing the frat over you?” Rafe turned fully toward you now, his phone still in his hand but on mute, his voice was a strained mix of anger and desperation. "Of course I care about you. But this is my responsibility. You knew what you were getting into when we got together." "Did I?" you shot back, your voice shaking. "Because I don’t remember signing up to be treated like an afterthought every time someone screws up at a party!"
He rolled his eyes, frustration mounting. "Okay, now you're just overreacting." "Overreacting?" you repeated, the word hanging between you like an accusation. "No, Rafe. I’m tired. Tired of always competing with your frat, tired of feeling like I’m just here when it’s convenient for you. What kind of shitty relationship is this?" He looked at you, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Guilt, maybe.
But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with the same stone-cold exterior he always put up when things got too real. "What the fuck do you want me to do then?" he asked, his voice strained. "I can’t just drop everything for you every time you feel insecure about this." His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you felt the sting behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see you cry.
"Insecure?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. "That’s what you think this is? That I’m just… insecure?" "That’s not what I meant," Rafe said quickly, but the damage was done. You stared at him, your heart aching in a way that felt all too familiar now. It was always the same with him. Every time you tried to open up, to let him know how much this was hurting you, he brushed it off, made it seem like you were the problem.
You stood from the bed, grabbing your clothes from the floor and quickly pulling them on. Rafe’s eyes widened in confusion as you started dressing. "What are you doing?" he asked, stepping closer. "I’m leaving," you replied coldly, buttoning up your shirt. "I'm not doing this tonight." Rafe stood by the bed, his expression torn between irritation and confusion as he watched you. “Are you seriously leaving because of one phone call?” he asked, his voice low and almost pleading.
“Of course not, Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling with everything you’d held back for so long. “I’m leaving because I can’t keep feeling like I don’t matter to you. Not anymore.” Rafe's jaw tightened as he crossed the room, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know how this is, you’re a sorority president. You of all people should know how much responsibility comes with it. You can’t just walk away every time something comes up."
You paused at the door, turning to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. “Yeah, I do know. I know exactly what it’s like to balance responsibilities, Rafe. But I also know how to separate my personal life from it, something you can't ever seem to learn." Rafe stared at you, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to find the right words. “That’s not fair,” he muttered. “You’re acting like I’m choosing this over you.”
“Aren’t you?” you shot back, your voice cold. “Every time we’re together, it’s like you’re half here, half thinking about what the guys are doing, what crisis you have to fix next. I get it, you have responsibilities, but that shouldn’t mean I have to come second all the time." His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. He looked at you, the guilt flickering in his eyes, but still, no words that would make a difference.
The air between you both felt thick, heavy with all the things left unsaid for far too long. "Do you even realise how many times I’ve put everything on hold for you?" Your voice cracked, the hurt finally breaking through. “How many times I’ve chosen us over my responsibilities, over everything else? I’ve never made you feel like you were second, Rafe. Not once.”
“I’m trying,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was pleading with you to understand. “You know I am.” “Trying isn’t enough anymore.” Your heart ached as you said it, but you knew it was true. “I shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to feel like I matter to you.” Rafe’s face hardened, the guilt shifting into frustration. “So what, you just give up? Because I can’t drop everything for you in a second?”
Your laugh was bitter as you shook your head. “No, Rafe. I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to care enough to make me feel like I’m part of your life, not just something you fit in when it’s convenient. But I guess that’s too much for you.” You turned toward the door again, your hand on the knob. This was it—the breaking point.
The moment where everything you’d been holding onto finally slipped through your fingers. “Wait.” His voice was softer now, almost desperate. You paused, just for a moment, waiting to see if he’d finally say what you needed to hear. But all you heard was the faint buzz of his phone vibrating again on in his hand. And just like that, the hope faded. Without another word, you walked out the door, not looking back.
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the-palelady · 3 days
Text
listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.
especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.
normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.
one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.
simon’s angel.
and oh he is on his knees for you.
he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.
he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.
simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.
“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.
god you loved him so much.
and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.
“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.
“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.
his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.
your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.
he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.
“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”
you whine and beg for him.
yes. please, simon. inside, please.
“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”
and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.
and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.
simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.
“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”
he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.
“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.
“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.
“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”
your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.
you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.
when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.
and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.
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desperate-gay · 1 day
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Actions Have Consequences
Ingrid Engen x fem!reader
SMUT +18 (kinda)
a/n: honestly i was too lazy to write full smut and i don’t really like this but i wanted to finally update soo
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“Ingrid, please, I didn’t know he was flirting with me.” You plead as you both walk through the front door of your apartment.
“Right, like you didn’t giggle or bat your eyelashes at the scumbag either.” The girl scoffs, slamming her purse onto the counter before making her way over and onto the couch.
You watch as your girlfriend rests her hands over her face with a loud sigh, showing her displeasure with your so-called actions. You truly didn’t flirt with the man. He was a sweet guy just wanting a good conversation to unwind after his job. Besides, it was only a quick chat. It’s not like you were fully engaging, he was just by the bar while you grabbed the drinks for you and Ingrid, so you began to have a bit of small talk with eventually caught the eye of your girlfriend.
The norwegian hasn’t bothered changing, instead, she remains on the couch with her black jumpsuit, an outfit you really admire on her. You nervously pick at your nails while slowly making your way over to your girlfriend.
“Please look at me.”
Her green eyes remain glaring at the black television in front of her, directly behind you. You decide to take a seat next to her and repeat your request. When she continues staring away, your soft hand gently touches the skin of her cheek and turns her attention towards you.
“It’s not at all what you think.” You say gently, trying to be careful with your words.
“Yeah right.” She scoffs, moving her head out of your hand to look the opposite way.
Sighing, you stand up but instead of leaving, you straddle her lap and place your arms on her shoulders. Although that still doesn’t get her attention, you begin to place soft kisses on the pale skin of her neck.
“I can make it up to you.” You suggest, continuing your trail of kisses on top of letting your right hand drift down between her thighs.
Ingrid’s hand quickly snatches your wrist from moving any further while her gaze is finally on you. You move out of her neck, stopping your previous actions, and lock eyes with her fiery gaze.
“If you want to make it up to me so bad, let me treat you and show you how much of a filthy slut you really are.” The brunette rasps, yanking your wrist toward her which makes your whole body follow suit.
Her free hand latches behind your neck, forcing your lips to crash into hers in a demanding kiss. You gasp against her mouth in surprise but quickly melt at her rough demeanor. The norwegian pulls back, moving her hand onto your throat, gripping it with a certain tightness you like.
“Lay down.”
Although you heard her, you sit there like a deer in headlights, causing her to stand up with you wrapped around her and toss you onto the couch.
“When I tell you to do something, you listen. Got it?” Ingrid asks in a stern yet warning tone.
When you nod your head, Ingrid hovers over you with her knee between your legs, just barely touching where you need her most. Her hair curtains around your face while she stares at you, running through ideas of what to do to you. Feeling her breath fan across your face makes you lean up to try to kiss the brunette, but the girl pulls back, preventing your lips from touching.
“I’m going to teach you that you are mine and only mine.” Ingrid trails the tips of her fingers from your hair, down to your cheek, and onto your lips. Her middle and index fingers begin to dig in between your lips, signaling you to do what she wants you to.
You obediently open your mouth wide, allowing her two digits to sink deep into your throat while your tongue swirls them and your head bobs up and down. Your eyes remain on the green ones above you as you continue your sensual movements, hallowing your cheeks to tighten around her digits.
After a few minutes, Ingrid softly removes her fingers from between your lips and without warning, dips into your pants and underwear to start making soft circles around your clit.
You roll your hips against her hand and let out a soft moan. When she notices you grinding into her, she stops her movements, making you whine in annoyance.
“You stay still. I get to go at my pace and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Although you want to object, you decide to stay silent in hopes of not making her more frustrated than she already is. She removes her hand from between your legs to grab the waistband of your pants. With a small tug, you take the hint and lift your hips to make it easier for them to slip off.
Ingrid discards your pants to the side but ultimately decides to keep everything else you’re wearing on, which is just a cropped tank top and panties.
“I can see how wet you are just from these.”
Her hand rubs over your clothed core, causing you to shudder in anticipation.
The brunette returns to her spot hovering over you and reaches her hand under the elastic of your underwear. She sucks along your neck while she reaches lower to gather all your wetness and spread it as much as she can.
Your breath picks up and small moans break out from your mouth when she touches certain spots. Ingrid kisses all the way up to your ear lobe, tugging it between her teeth.
“If only you were good today.” The two fingers that were beginning to push into you are gone in the blink of an eye, causing your eyes to snap open in shock.
Ingrid stands up, sucking your mess off her fingers, and walks away towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. You lay there in disbelief with an uncomfortable wetness remaining between your legs as you watch your girlfriend sip from the bottled water.
“Maybe if you’re lucky, we can fix that problem of yours tomorrow. I’m quite tired all of a sudden.”
Without another word, she walks into the bedroom to change and get ready for bed, leaving you in your sticky situation alone.
290 notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 7 hours
Text
Azul: I'm sure you already know why you're here.
MC: *has been summoned to Octavinelle*
Azul: If a third party intentionally causes one party to breach their legally binding contract, they could be sued for tortious interference.
Azul: That's what you've been doing for some time now.
MC: ...
MC: I'm afraid I lack knowledge when it comes to business matters. Surely, you won’t hold that against me.
Azul: That's unfortunate. However, I can use other methods to ensure you fully understand what you've done.
MC: *smiles* Oh, would you?
Azul: *confused frown* You seem quite confident for someone who just came from another world.
MC: Yes, considering I've never been from this world, I certainly know how to put you at a disadvantage.
Azul: I don’t have time for bluff— *his eyes widened*
Azul: How—WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!
MC: The only place you can find this photo is at the Atlantica Memorial Museum.
MC: I just happened to go there with my dorm leader and then I saw this photo.
MC: Something in the back of my mind urged me to get it.
Azul: You’re intending to use that as a blackmail material.
MC: Yes.
Azul: ...
Azul: *forces a smile* It takes more than that to intimidate me.
MC: ...
MC: I see. You're right.
MC: If others were to see it, it wouldn’t bother you.
Azul: Y-Yes. Now hand it to me.
MC: ...
MC: *stood up from their seat* No. This photo represents a cherished memory. If you won't value it, I may as well keep it.
Azul: ...
MC: *makes their way to the door*
Azul: Wait! We can still discuss—
*The door shuts.*
Azul: ...
Jade: *who didn't bother to interrupt throughout their conversation*
Jade: That was quite clever. *chuckles*
Jade: It's been a while since someone outsmarted you, Azul.
Azul: Quiet!
Azul: I need to steal that photo back.
Jade: Leave it to me.
Floyd: Eh~ Was the photo even legit?
Jade: Yes. We saw it with our own two eyes.
Floyd: *sigh* Alright. Who is it?
Jade: It's the person who single-handedly defeated a group of Savanaclaw students.
Floyd: ...
Floyd: *flashes an exciting yet terrifying smile*
Floyd: Why didn't you say earlier~?
Malleus: *sad pouty face* Aren't you heading back to the dorm with Dada?
MC: *smiles apologetically* There's something I need to do.
Malleus: ...
Malleus: *sigh* Alright.
MC: By the way, Dada, please try not to eat too much ice cream today.
Malleus: *pouts*
MC: *chuckles*
Malleus: *smiles* Well, just call me if you run into any trouble.
MC: *nods*
Malleus: *kisses their forehead then disappears*
MC: ...
Floyd: Eh~ How sweet~ Is Sea Slug your boyfriend~? *appears from the place where he's hiding*
MC: No.
Floyd: Are you sure~? Hehee~
MC: You're not here to be curious about that.
Floyd: Wow, straight to the point~. I like that.
Floyd: I've been wanting to give you a squeeze since the tournament~.
*A student rushes to report to Crowley.*
Scarabia student: Sir! MC and Floyd are fighting on Main Street!
Crowley: What?!
*Crowley, along with Professor Trein and Professor Crewel, hurried to Main Street to break up the fight between MC and Floyd.*
Crowley: Stop right this instant!
Professor Trein: Leech! You ought to know better than to harm students who are weaker than you—
Floyd: *turns his head* Huh?!
Professor Trein: ...
*MC's uniform is crooked, and their hair is messy from the fight, while Floyd, on the other hand, has light bruises on his cheek and traces of blood on his nose.*
Professor Crewel: ...
Professor Crewel: *looks at MC* Did you win, pup?
Floyd: I didn't lose yet, Beakfish!
MC: ...
Crowley: That's enough!
*In the faculty office, MC and Floyd are being asked why they fought in the first place.*
MC: ...
Floyd: ...
Professor Crewel: Aren't you both going to speak up?
MC and Floyd: ...
Crowley: Since you refused to provide a statement, I’m afraid both of you will have to face punishment.
Crowley: You will be helping the ghosts in the cafeteria for the next two weeks.
Floyd: *frowns* Why~?
MC: I'll do it.
Floyd: ...
Floyd: *smiles* Seashell-chan~ Let's continue our fight when no one's looking~.
Professor Trein: No. That was the end of it.
Floyd: Tch.
MC: ...
Azul: You lost to MC and failed to retrieve the photo.
Floyd: Eh~ Was I supposed to get it~?
Azul: JADE TOLD YOU!
Jade: It seems Floyd forgot due to his excitement.
Azul: ...
Azul: *breathes in* I'm going to handle this myself from now on.
247 notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 2 days
Text
Thousands Of Miles Apart : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo
summary: you and daniel aren't getting any younger, and yet you seem to find yourselves further and further apart on either sides of the world
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There was no response from you as you heard the key finally go into the door to your apartment, hearing the sound of Daniel singing to himself. You remained where you were sat, staring down at the floor as his footsteps echoed throughout the place, a clear spring in his step, the complete opposite to how you were feeling beside him. 
However, as Daniel walked in and noticed you sat on the sofa, a few candles lit around you, his heart dropped. The singing came to a stop, his footsteps became heavier as he slowly walked closely towards where you were. 
There was no acknowledgement from you that he was there as Daniel sat in the seat opposite you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look across at him as you tried to stop the anger in the pit of your stomach from exploding. 
“Babe,” Daniel whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get home so late, we were just testing and time just ran away from me.” 
“Shut up, please, just shut up,” you asked of him, the harshness in your voice taking Daniel by surprise. “I don’t even want to hear your excuses anymore; I’m fed up of you treating me like I’m stupid with all of these reasons.” 
It took a moment for Daniel to comprehend what you were saying, the anger in your voice leaving him dejected. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you by not coming home earlier, I should’ve let you know that I was going to be a while.” 
“I don’t care about work Daniel; I care about the fact it’s another night away from each other.” 
“I know, but we’re both so busy it’s hard to find time together.” 
Your eyes rolled at how careless his voice was, shrugging his shoulders. With time so tricky to find, you were trying to find those pockets of time, however Daniel didn’t seem to be. 
“We spend the majority of our days thousands of miles apart, but when we’re both at home we’re still apart too. What’s the point of doing this to ourselves when we’re just constantly away from each other?” 
Daniel’s body tensed up as you finally looked across at him, your expression was emotionless, sending a shiver down his spine. “It’s not going to last forever, we’re trying our best, aren’t we? But sometimes things get in the way.” 
“You’re really telling me this is you trying your best for me?” 
Daniel’s head nodded, only to feel your eyes narrow in on him, questioning how honest he was being with you. “I’ve always put our relationship first; do you know how hard it is for me too when we’re so far away? It’s not like I want to live like this.” 
At times it felt like you barely recognised the man in front of you anymore. The Daniel you knew at the start of your relationship would race halfway around the world if it meant getting to spend time with you, but now it felt he couldn’t even be bothered to walk half a yard for you, instead deciding to prioritise work instead. 
Your eyes dropped as you struggled to hold back your emotion. “I can’t keep doing this Daniel, I don’t even feel like I’m in a relationship sometimes these days.” 
“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered, “I hate that you feel that way. You know how much I love you sweetheart; I couldn’t imagine doing life without you by my side.” 
“I love you as well,” you assured him, “but the fact we love each other can’t be the reason why we stay together. We have two very different, hectic lives, and although we always promised that wouldn’t get in the way, I can’t help but feel like now it is.” 
You quickly wiped a tear away, hoping that Daniel wouldn’t see. However, as he stood up and moved himself to where you sat, placing his arms gently around your back, you knew that he had seen just how much you were struggling. 
“Why does this feel like you’re breaking up with me?” Daniel stuttered. “I don’t ever want to make you feel like I’m not trying, or that I don’t care. I wish more than anything that you didn’t have to wait for me constantly, that I could be here whenever I want and spend my evenings cuddled up to you and not letting you go.” 
“I don’t think I am,” you whispered, leaning a little closer into Daniel. “But I just don’t think I can carry on like this, it’s not healthy for either of us Daniel, this shouldn’t be the normal.” 
Daniel pulled you even closer towards him, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, refusing to let you go. “I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise that I’m going to make some changes and make sure that I’m here for you, for us, more.” 
Your head slowly nodded, you could hear the fear in Daniel’s voice, desperate to make sure that you knew just how serious he was about fixing you up and not losing what you had. 
“I’ll do whatever to prove to you how much I want to make this work, even when we’re thousands of miles apart,” Daniel whispered. “I hate the fact that I ever made you doubt how I feel about you or made you feel like I didn’t care either.” 
“Are you really serious about making this work again?” 
Daniel’s head nodded without even having to think, he had never been so sure of anything in his life. “I can’t lose you, even if I made it seem like it’s not the case recently, I cannot stress enough that you really are everything to me.” 
“It’s a relief to hear you say that, Daniel.” 
He pressed a kiss against the side of his head, bringing his lips to your ear. “I love you, more than you could ever imagine, you’re the best.” 
Your smile slowly turned up, resting your hands on Daniel’s arm that was around you. “I love you, that will never change.” 
“You know, I miss us too, I always wish that we could go back sometimes and pause time.” 
Despite seeming as if he didn’t care, Daniel did, more than anything. He hated whenever work told him to stay, or when his management called and told him they had plans for a deal which meant he had to be away from home for even longer. 
���How about tomorrow we plan some time and organise some dates, we can do whatever you want and I promise that I’ll definitely show up for them too.” 
Your head nodded at Daniel’s suggestion, relaxing into his hold as he leaned his head down to rest on top of yours. 
“You can make me do whatever, it’s the least I can do for what I’ve put you through,” Daniel added, bringing a chuckle out of you. 
“You might regret saying that you know with some of my ideas.” 
Truthfully, he didn’t care, as long as it meant time with you then he was happy doing absolutely anything. “All I want is to be able to start creating memories with you again, no matter how stupid they end up being.” 
“Making you look stupid is my speciality,” you teased in reply to him. 
“Hm, I’m pretty good at doing it all by myself.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
244 notes · View notes
Note
Heyyyy ! Could you do Drew and reader first time … after being a couple for like two months?
ofc!! tysm for your request anon!! 💋
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worth the wait
warnings: smut, cussing
words: 869
drew starkey x reader
It had been two blissful months since Y/N and Drew had started dating, but from the beginning, they had taken things slow. Their relationship had grown from deep conversations and laughter-filled moments into something beautiful and meaningful. Y/N had made it clear early on that she wasn’t ready to rush into anything physical, and Drew had been nothing but understanding, patient, and respectful of her boundaries.
It wasn’t that they didn’t have their moments of closeness—there had been plenty of kisses, late-night cuddles, and the quiet intimacy of just being in each other’s company—but they hadn’t crossed that line yet. There had been no pressure, no rush—just the steady build of trust and connection.
But tonight was different.
Y/N had spent the day preparing, her mind made up. She had gone shopping and picked out something special—lingerie that made her feel confident and beautiful. She wanted to show Drew how much he meant to her, how much she trusted him, and tonight, she felt ready.
As Drew walked into the room, he froze at the sight of her standing there, illuminated by the soft light of the bedside lamp. She was wearing the lingerie, a delicate set of lace that hugged her curves in all the right places. His breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise and awe.
“Wow,” he whispered, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “You look… incredible.”
Y/N felt her heart race as she smiled nervously, but the warmth in his eyes reassured her. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath before finally saying the words that had been on her mind all day. “I’m ready, Drew.”
His expression softened immediately, any trace of surprise replaced by tenderness. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch as light as a feather. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, full of care and concern.
She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Drew’s hand moved to cradle her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I want this to be perfect for you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ll go slow. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
Y/N smiled at his words, her heart swelling with even more love for him. “I know. That’s why I’m ready. Because it’s you.”
He kissed her softly then, his lips warm and reassuring. Slowly, they moved toward the bed, and Drew kept his promise—he was gentle, every touch slow and deliberate. He treated her with such care, like she was something fragile and precious, always checking in, making sure she was okay.
Y/n’s hand reached his erection, slowly massaging it. And before she knew it his boxers were off. His thick, long cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. She stared at it— shocked at the sight in front of her.
“Drew. That’s never going to fit.” she mumbled, looking up at him.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it fit.” he muttered while pressing kisses against her neck, his fingers running through the soft strands of her hair. She moved to take her panties off, she needed him— badly.
“Drew. Please.” she moaned— eagerly waiting for him. He lined his cock at her entrance, rubbing his tip against her clit. Making her cry out. And without warning he pushed into her, his large wood stretching her out.
“fuck, so tight baby” he groaned in her ear, his arms wrapped around her neck as he started pounding in and out of her. He was so rough yet so gentle.
A loud whimper escaped y/n’s throat as he started rubbing her clit. The hand that was just wrapped around her neck was now covering her mouth, muffling any noise as he started pounding harder and harder into her, his hips snapping against her fast and hard enough to bruise.
Her body singing to his tune, as she was driven higher and higher. Each thrust bringing a delicious tension to her. Each string of her body thrumming in perfect time and pitch, getting closer to that breaking point she knew was coming.
Eyes closed to focus on the growing heat. She was surprised when his hand moved to cup her chin and she felt the delicate press of his mouth against hers.
He shoved his tongue into her mouth, it was magical. She ran her hands along his back feeling his strong muscles shift under her touch as he pulled her closer.
It was all too much, and with a strangled shout of his name she fell to pieces. Shaking violently in his arms, the pleasure drowning everything. As she felt him stutter to a halt, he quickly pulled his cock out as he released all over her stomach.
“fuck” he moaned as he fell on top of her. Their breaths mingling together— his face pressed into her hair, soft words of love being murmured as his breathing began to slow.
——
Afterward, they lay together in the quiet, Drew’s arms wrapped securely around her. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her close. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.
Y/N smiled, her heart still fluttering. “I love you too.”
And in that moment, as they lay in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that waiting had been worth it. Drew had made their first time together everything she had hoped for—and more.
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pretentious-blonde · 2 days
Text
patched up
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: you help remus clean up after the full moon, reminding him once again how much he is loved, even if he thinks he is underserving
warnings: cuts, wounds, physical pain
a/n: all i write is hurt/comfort, and I'm not even mad
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Remus sat on the old leather couch, a book in his hand that just couldn’t seem to grasp his attention. His free fingers traced small circles on your legs, which you had ungracefully thrown over his own as you lounged together in the living room. It was still early, just coming up for noon, you both were aware of the time. Even if the knowledge was unspoken. 
It was the full moon tonight, and despite the routine that you both had become familiar with, the boy couldn’t shake the nerves that coiled and twisted inside of him. 
You pretended not to notice what he was doing, glancing at the door every couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock. James and Sirius would arrive any moment now, take him away, far away for yet another transformation. You were used to it by now. 
One thing that was always constant was that they had always been there for him, he appreciated that, but he hated leaving you. Especially when you gave him that soft, reassuring smile. Like everything would be fine. Like everything was fine.
“Rem,” you spoke softly, catching those big, brown eyes. His body was tense beneath you. 
“I’m alright, dove,” he gave you a weak smile, his fingers stopping their patterns to give your calf a light squeeze. “Just… you know.”
And you did know. Painfully so.
You nodded, understanding him completely. You were about to speak more, but were interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. He stiffened even more at the sound. Hand stilling.
He sighed and closed the book, setting it aside. His gaze moved to the hand on your leg, not wanting to move it, wanting to keep the inevitable away for just a second longer. 
“It’s time,” he tells you quietly, like he does every month. His voice carried a sadness that he couldn’t hide completely. 
You place your hand on top of his own, your smile gentle but knowing. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you to get back, okay?”
He stood up, pulling you with him, tall body towering over your own. He let his hand linger on the small of your back as you both headed to the front door. When he opened it, James and Sirius stood waiting outside, both smiling softly as they knew what was to come. The car behind them was still running, headlights cutting through the fog, casting a warm glow behind them. 
“Hey, mate,” James begins, smiling up at Remus. “You ready?”
Sirius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his usual smirk missing from his face. “We’re ready when you are,” he said. His voice light in an attempt to ease your boyfriend’s nerves. “If you need a breather before we go, just say the word.”
Remus shook his head, he would rather just get this over and done with, no more stalling. You could feel the stress in his body increase as the hand on your waist held on a little tighter. 
Sirius, sensing the clear tension that settled heavily in the air, finally cracked a smile. “Don’t worry,” he waved his hand in front of him. “You’ll be back here with your girl before you know it.” He said, winking in your direction.
James also turns his attention to you, giving you a mock salute, “He is in safe hands, don’t you fret.”
“And we won’t allow him to get too grumpy when we return him,” Sirius added, side-eyeing the man standing next to you. Remus runs a hand over his face at their teasing.
You rolled your eyes and gave them a half-glare, happy that they were trying to keep things light. 
“I trust you both,” you say, tone teasing but nonetheless truthful. “Bring him back in one piece.”
James nods. “You have our word.”
Remus lets out a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, allowing his hand to linger on your cheek for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening, darling. I promise,” he tells you, his gaze was intense. The act of leaving you now was painful. 
You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, his own long arms wrapping around you immediately. Secure and firm, he never wanted to let go. 
“I know you will,” you whispered into his chest, voice muffled by his worn jumper. “I’ll be here.”
Remus reluctantly loosened his embrace, kissing your forehead gently as he allowed himself to linger. 
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held your chin. Warm, tired eyes burrowing into your own. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you say quickly. He already knew that but—god—did it feel good to hear you say it back. He turned towards the car behind him, giving you a small wave before climbing in. 
Remus settled into the back seat as the other two slid into the front. He watched you as the car sped away, trying to push down the knots his stomach was tying. Sirius leaned back, tossing him a lighthearted grin from the passenger seat.
“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to help him relax. “It’s just another moon. We have done this hundreds of times now.”
"Another moon, another miserable night,” Remus grumbled, no longer having the will to fake a smile. You weren’t there anymore. 
James glanced back from the driver’s seat, a sympathetic look now in his eyes. “You’ll be alright, mate. Besides, from the way you’re moping, I’d say you’re just lovesick.”
“Definitely lovesick,” Sirius said, nodding his head in agreement.
Remus sighed, staring out the trees flying past the window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am. I’m damn lucky to be.”
James and Sirius exchanged a quick, knowing look, but didn’t tease him further. Remus just wanted to get through this—so he could go back to the one person who made everything else worth it.
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Remus tried his hardest to be silent when he entered, opening the door gently to lessen the loud creak, his movements were slow and heavy as he stepped inside. It was late—much later than he intended to be—every inch of his tired body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage, having to reach out and steady himself against the wall, closing the door behind him. 
It had been bad this time. Really bad. James and Sirius had confirmed it, as if the fresh wounds couldn’t tell him that already. Their concerned faces still clear in his memory. 
The cuts on his body were deep—deeper than usual—one stretching across his chest, another on his arm, and a particularly nasty one that covered the side of his face. He had no recollection of how he acquired them, but they offered a fresh reminder of what he was. What he could become. 
He trudged up the stairs, each step more painful than the last, eventually making his way to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, the last thing he wanted to see was his reflection—the scars, the bandages, the tired eyes that always seemed more hollow after the events of a full moon. He quickly redressed the lacerations on his torso, delaying touching the one on his cheek. 
He didn’t want to see what it looked like, but he had no choice. He needed to change it. He would just have to do it fast. 
Glancing up quickly, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Immediately he looked away, biting down another wave of familiar self-loathing that flowed through him. 
He hated this—hated how he looked, how his body was always going to be a physical reminder of how cursed he was. How much of a monster he was. 
With shaky hands, he removed a bandage from its plastic casing, placing it on his face as swiftly as he could. He pulled out a loose set of pyjamas and quickly slipped them on his aching body, just wanting to crawl into bed and pretend the previous night never happened.
He opened the door to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of your sleeping figure. You were lying peacefully on your side of the bed, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breathing drew him closer to you. 
He paused before he got in, just standing there for a moment, taking you in, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He loved you. God, he loved you. The one thing in his life he would never get near his tribulation. The one thing that kept him going. 
Carefully, he slipped in next to you, taking extra care not to rouse you. The ache in his arms flared up as he pulled back the heavy duvet, but he forced himself to ignore it. After all, what was a little discomfort when he could be close to you?
He shuffled closer, wincing at the pain that shot through his muscles, but it appeared to melt into the background as he felt your warmth permeate his skin. 
For a moment, he was content just laying there next to you, watching you sleep. If you were awake you would probably call him a creep. He stifled a chuckle at the image that formed in his mind. 
His heart ached—not from the wounds or exhaustion he had sustained, but from the overwhelming combination of emotions he felt for you. He hoped you were sleeping well, lord knows he wouldn’t be. Not with the soreness that was coursing through his drained body, but his own well-being didn’t concern him right now. What mattered was that he was here, with you. 
With a soft sigh, he gently pulled your sleeping form closer to him, his arms trembling slightly with the strain. The throbbing in his chest flared up again, but he ignored it. Instead, he buried his face in your hair and let the steady sound of your breathing soothe him. He kissed the top of your head, whispering into the silent room. 
“I’m home, love,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible as sleep began to pull him under. “Promised I would be.”
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The first thing you felt when you stirred was a familiar warmth, strong arms wrapped around you, and for a brief moment, your heart swelled with relief. He was back. He always came back to you. But every time he managed to crawl back home you couldn’t help but worry if it would be worse than the last time. You shifted slightly, turning in his embrace in order to get a better look at him—that’s when you noticed. 
The fresh bandages, hastily applied, peeked out from his long sleeve, another covering the side of his face. You ached for him at the sight of them. You pulled your arms from beneath the duvet, reaching out to touch the dressing. Your fingers hovered just above it, pausing mid-air as you stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him more. You didn’t know what lay beneath them. 
You wriggled out of his hold, taking additional time and care so as to not wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. He needed the rest. You were certain he would be in pain as soon as he rose, and as much as the idea of staying in his arms sounded heavenly, you decided to make yourself useful. 
Padding quietly to the kitchen, odd socks on your feet, you grab two cups from the cupboard above your head. You had to go on your tiptoes to reach them. Usually, Remus would insist on getting them for you—he had once seen you clamber up onto the counter and it nearly gave him a heart attack—but he was preoccupied today. 
The kettle bubbled softly as you pulled out the jar of tea, along with the packet of biscuits—chocolate, of course, his preferred choice. You prepared it in the way he taught you, letting it brew for a good couple of minutes before removing the teabag, pouring in a healthy glug of milk. You returned to the bedroom, steaming mugs in hand and the packet of biscuits under your arm. 
The brunette began to stir at the soft crackle of plastic as you placed the treats on the bedside table, holding your own mug close to your chest as you sat on the floor beside the bed. You watched his eyes as they fluttered open. 
“Hey,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to look at him horizontally. “How are you feeling?”
He winced as he shifted over, his body still unbearably sore. His tired eyes met yours, and despite everything, he managed to give you a faint smile. It was hard not to when you looked at him like that. 
“I’ve been better,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep. 
You shook your head at his attempts to downplay his clear discomfort, trying to mask the worry in your eyes that was surely present. 
“I made you tea,” you gesture to the cup next to you, pale wisps dancing around the top of it. He liked it hot, straight from the kettle. It amazed you how he could handle drinking it so fast. “And your favourite.”
“I’m a lucky man,” he said as he sat up, voice slightly strained as he finished his sentence. He reached out and dipped the biscuit in his mug, making a sound of relief as he popped it into his mouth, allowing the rich flavour to melt over his tongue. 
He took a sip of his tea, sleeve rolling up slightly as he leant over, bandage visible. You didn’t want to mention how poorly they had been applied, you didn’t want to remind him. But it had to be done, for his sake. 
“Rem,” you began gently, not wanting to upset him. “You need to change those.”
Immediately, he stiffened, his body pausing mid-sip. He loathed this part—being looked after and the vulnerability that came with it. 
“Do I?” He muttered, voice lacking the spark it had when he woke up, clearly embarrassed at your statement. 
You nodded solemnly, cringing at the discomfort in his eyes. “It might get infected,” you tell him. “You’re tired. Let me help you, please?”
He hesitated for a moment, an internal battle occurring in his head, before giving you one of his kind smiles. “Alright,” he responded, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Can I finish my tea first?”
You giggled, worry easing just a little. “Of course,” you say, nodding your head. “We’ll do it after.”
He placed his soon-empty cup on the side next to him, sighing heavily as he nodded to you. “Alright, love,” he said reluctantly. “I’m ready.”
You stand up slowly, reaching out to take his hesitant hand, leading him towards the bathroom. He traced your knuckles with his thumb as you both continued down the hallway. When you opened the door, he immediately hopped up on the counter silently. Ignoring the mirror and instead choosing to look down at his lap.
The first aid kit was under the sink, a pack that you always kept fully stocked. You quickly grabbed it before returning to your place in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. Your heart felt heavy at how exhausted he looked. How broken. But you refused to let him see that. He didn’t need to worry about you being worried about him. He had enough to deal with as it is. 
“Can I take your jumper off?” You ask him softly, afraid of raising your voice. You needed to take care of him, and from the looks of it, he wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. 
His eyes left his lap and locked with yours. For a second, he looked as though he might say something, but instead, he just nodded. Words seemingly too hard to form right now. 
You tried to keep your hands steady as you reached out, gently pulling the fabric over his head, keeping the material as far away from his body as you removed it. You folded up the material and placed it to the side, allowing him to get more comfortable with his bare skin showing before you gave him your attention again. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 
Bandages—there were so many of them, scattered haphazardly across his torso and arms. Each one was a significant reminder of what he had been through the previous night. You swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as you knew he was watching your every movement. 
“You ready?” You asked, needing verbal confirmation as you knew this was going to hurt. Not just him, but yourself as well. 
His lips twitched up into a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he quipped, trying to take the edge off, but the pain was clear in his low voice. 
You peeled off the dressings, not earning a large reaction from the boy sitting in front of you. Most of them had become unstuck as he slept, making your job easier. You reached for the cloth and antiseptic, deciding to start with the easier gashes first. Your touch was diligent and gentle as you cleaned him, dabbing carefully at the blood and dirt that clung to his skin. 
He must have been shattered last night to skip this. That fact made you even more determined to fix this. To fix him. You couldn’t offer much, but you would do whatever you thought would help. Every few minutes, you’d glance up, wordlessly checking on him. Waiting for the swift bob of his head as he urges you to keep going. 
“Am I hurting you?” You knew the answer already, but you needed to know how much. 
“Only a little,” he lied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. “I’ve been though worse, dove.”
You roll your eyes at his ill attempt of humour, but at least he was able to crack a joke. That was a good sign. 
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you murmered as you pressed down on a particularly nasty cut, earning a small hiss from him. You hurried up when you heard the noise, not wanting to be the one behind his torture. 
Finally, you turned your attention to the injury on his face, the angry red line that ran from his collarbone all the way up to his cheek. The sight of it yanked at your heartstrings and you knew you failed to mask your reaction, his body stiffened. Eyes darting away from yours as he attempted to look away. You caught his chin before he could withdraw into himself, forcing him to look at you. 
Big, doe eyes filled with guilt, shame even, and it devastated you. He cleared his throat with a sharp cough, his voice gravely. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered, gaze dropping again despite the grip on his chin. “You shouldn’t—have to take care of me like this.”
You removed your hold on him, allowing both of your hands to continue working, dabbing gently as his mouth curled at the stinging sensation. “Remus,” you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. “I want to take care of you. I love taking care of you.”
He shook his head slightly, the conversation paining him more than your actions. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you, his voice monotone as if he was just speaking a fact. “Look at me, darling. I’m—I’m a mess.”
You smiled at the angelic boy in front of you and placed a kiss on his cheekbone, just above the cut. He really couldn’t see what you saw. How his friends saw in him. How he treated you all. He was the most selfless person you had ever met, going above and beyond for each and every person he cared for. 
It wasn’t a skill that could be taught. It was innate. It was Remus. Always had been. 
“You’re not a mess,” you say firmly. “You are mine. I love you—every scar, every mark, every part of you.”
You saw his throat bod as he swallowed, his eyes slightly glass as he stared at you. He always struggled to allow people to give him affection, not believing he deserved it. He didn’t know where to put all the love you gave him. It always felt unworthy of it. 
But in that moment, just the two of you in the cramped bathroom, illuminated by the small ceiling bulb. It felt right. Your fingers brushing over his scars, some fresher, some older, he thought maybe…just maybe. It would all be alright. 
You finish the last dressing, smoothing it over his skin with the same tenderness you treated all the others. “All done,” you tell him, feeling proud of your handiwork. 
Remus lets out a relieved chuckle at your pride. “I’d say you’ve missed your calling, love. Should’ve been a nurse.”
“Oh yeah?” You laugh, feeling the tension leave the room. “Maybe I’ll change careers.”
“I take it back,” he says quickly, eyes softening with affection. “I want you all to myself. I’m selfish.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have the whole of today off,” you say, throwing the used bandages and their wrappers into the bin by the door. “We can do whatever you want.”
He raised an eyebrow, your words tempting him. “Anything?”
“Yep, anything at all,” you nod at him. “Within your...physical capabilities,” you quickly add. There is no way that would be happening in his condition. 
“Well you’re no fun,” Remus frowns playfully, mischief still swimming in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can come up with something riveting for the both of us.”
You put your hands on your hips, assuming a determined stance. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind.”
He hums, pleased with your statement, lowering himself down from the counter and pulling his jumper back on. Grimacing as it brushes his skin. He motions for you to follow him into the living room, watching as he winces as he sits down on the couch, his face briefly tightening in pain. But then, true to form, he opens his wide arms and looks at you expectantly. “Come on then.”
You go to take a step forward but hesitate. You would love nothing more than to drape yourself over him, but the sight of his bandages stops you. “I don’t want to hurt you…”
A look of warmth crossed his face, shaking his head with a tender smile. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t let me hold you, darling. Come on.”
You can’t help but melt at his kind words, you gently ease yourself onto the couch, mindful of his injuries and not putting your full weight on him. His arms encase you instantly, pulling you impossibly closer despite the clear discomfort it caused him. 
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” You scold him, your cheek resting on his chest, mindful of the dressing on the opposite side. 
“Stubborn? No.” He quips, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hopelessly in love? Maybe.”
You giggle, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you in a steady rhythm. “A bit of both, I think.”
It’s his turn now to chuckle, his tired bones relaxing further into the soft cushions. “You might be right.”
You both just lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of the world beginning to wake up outside only added to the ambience. He was at peace with you In his embrace, glancing down at you as you gazed at him softly. Fingers tracing gentle circles on an unharmed piece of his chest. 
“So…” you begin, continuing your motions. “Any grand idea for today?”
He shakes his head, stopping to meet your eyes, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Honestly? Just this. Just you.” His voice is playful but his words have never been more true. “Don’t need anything else.”
“Smooth,” you say sarcastically, suppressing a smirk of your own. 
“I’m serious, love,” he chuckles. “I can’t think of a better way to spend today.”
Your heart soared at his words, you carefully shifted to cup his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
He pushes himself further into your palm, eyes closing for the briefest of moments, his hand coming up to cover your own. “Have I mentioned that you’re too good for me?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but the familiar self-doubt can still be heard in his voice. 
“Unfortunately, far too much,” you playfully glare. “You stubborn man.”
He reopens his eyes, now filled with an overwhelming amount of affection. It almost takes your breath away. 
“Then I’m sure you’ve heard me say how lucky I am as well,” he teases, his expression never faltering. 
“I’m the lucky one,” you grin cheekily, brushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “My boyfriend makes an excellent cup of tea.”
“Is that all I’m here for?” He asks in mock offence, pulling you flush against him, despite the twinge of pain it caused. “Keeping me around for my tea-making skills?”
“Exactly,” you nestle your head against him. 
At that moment, everything felt right to him. Just the two of you, safe, together. Nothing else mattered to him apart from the girl in his arms. He knows the pain will linger—the scars, the transformations, all of it. But with you—his anchor—it feels just about bearable. And for the first time in a long time. He allows himself to feel hope. The hope of your future together. 
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sserpente · 23 hours
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Checkmate
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“You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”
 “Strip chess?” Sylus’ eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”
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A/N: What’s this? Another red-eyed, pale-skinned and silver-haired morally grey man? Might as well.
Words: 1386 Warnings: smut
You made it a point to sigh. Loudly. With your chin propped up on your elbows, you were sitting across from Sylus on the bed in your pyjamas, a chessboard in between you creating more distance from him than you wanted.
“Are you going to hyperventilate, kitten? This is the third time you’re sighing like this.”
“This is boring, Sylus.”
“Ah, you didn’t hear me complaining after ten long rounds of Kitty Cards, now did you?” He didn’t look up as he spoke. His crimson eyes were fixed on the chequered game board but his voice was not without that teasing tone that always drove you mad and never failed to turn you into a horny mess. Especially now, with how casually he was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and clad in comfortable clothes.
“The chess pieces aren’t meowing at me, it’s not the same. You know I’m bad at chess.”
“Then you’ll get better.” He made his move—and unfortunately, it didn’t mean much to you. You barely remembered the names of all the different pieces but you hadn’t wanted to turn him down when he asked for a round. Time spent with him was rare due to your different sleep schedules, and your visits to the N109 zones were even rarer. Things would change soon. But until then, you’d soak up every minute you could get with him. Even if he wanted to play chess. Even if it was boring as fuck.
“It’s your turn, kitten.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.” Another sigh. This time, Sylus chuckled in response.
“How do I move this piece again?” You pointed at the chess piece resembling a horse, tilting your head innocently.
“Kitten…” Oh, now that was a reproachful kitten.
“I forgot! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but chess is so boring.” You paused, thinking. “You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”
“Strip chess?” Sylus' eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”
You frowned and looked down on yourself. Perhaps you should have thought this through first. Sylus was wearing a light jacket, socks, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and likely underwear. You on the other hand had only two pieces of clothing on you—a silk pyjama set with the night sky and embroidered stars on it, a gift from him the first time you returned to the N109 zone to stay with him for a few days. It had been waiting for you on the king-size bed in the guest room. You almost chuckled. You’d never slept in that bed until this day.
“Having second thoughts?” he mused.
You shook your head. “No. Let’s keep playing. It was my turn, yeah?”
He blinked once as if to say yes, his expression so amused you wanted to sigh yet again. This time, however, you really did put some effort in. If you beat him, he’d be sitting across from you naked. So if you moved your pawn over there…
“I’m done.”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘are you sure’? Don’t make me second-guess myself!”
“Very well…” He moved another piece himself and chuckled. “There goes your knight, sweetie.”
“Ugh! What?”
“Come now. You set up the rules yourself.”
You glared at him and aggressively took your pyjama top off to throw it at his face where it landed with a thud before falling into his lap. His amused grin was even more irritating than the complexity of this silly game. He had the reflexes to catch the piece of clothing. He could have. He simply decided not to. Ugh.
“There. Happy?”
You had hopes that sitting in front of him topless would distract him enough to make a mistake but who were you kidding? Even if he did make a mistake, you were nowhere near skilled enough to beat him at this game. Sylus knew that very well. You’d just hoped that you could snatch up enough of his pieces to see him naked again.
But the stern leader of Onychinus was nothing if not composure personified. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at your half-naked form even though you could clearly tell it did not leave him unaffected. His crimson eyes raked over your breasts and your hardening nipples due to the cool temperatures in his bedroom.
A few moments later though, he moved another piece. Sylus chuckled. “Checkmate.”
You gasped, your eyes darting back down to the chessboard. “What? How?”
“You’ve been focused on your queen too much. Now your king has nowhere left to go. See?” He pointed at the two pieces that cornered your white king. How annoying.
“That’s not fair! You tricked me!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You backed me into a corner!”
“You didn’t pay attention.”
“That’s impossible considering I’m topless and you’re still wearing all of your clothes! Was there even a way out?”
“There was.”
“But…but…ugh!”
Sylus raised an eyebrow and gave you a toothless grin. “I’m waiting.” He gestured at your pyjama bottoms.
“For what? The game is over, you’re still wearing all of your clothes and I’m still bored.”
Sylus laughed. “And you lost yet another piece. Don’t be a sore loser, sweetie.”
“I’m…not!” Cursing him under your breath you leaned back and shrugged off your pyjama bottoms without taking your eyes off him. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as you had hoped for it to be but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “This really didn’t go according to plan…”
“Your ‘plans’ never do, kitten.”
You scoffed. “Now what?”
“Now? You let me admire the view and revel in my triumph.”
“You’re impossible.”
Sylus chuckled. “You’ll find I’m very much possible. Come here.”
Now that was something he didn’t need to tell you twice. You crawled over to him fast, ignoring how the remaining chess pieces fell off the board in the process and made yourself comfortable on his lap. Sylus cradled your naked form in his arms as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. Your eyes fell shut almost automatically when he kissed your forehead.
His hands were less innocent. They ghosted over your exposed skin raising goose bumps where they went. It was sheer luck he didn’t tease you for how quickly your legs fell open when one of them travelled lower and lower, over your breasts and your hard nipples, your stomach and eventually…between your legs to where your body wanted him the most.
“Naughty little kitten, have you been this wet for me the whole time?”
You hummed in agreement, rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck.
Testing the waters, his long fingers started rubbing and caressing your outer lips until they slid between them with ease to tease your clit. Probing and exploring, working you up for him until he had you gushing and whimpering in his lap.
“Why…why were we playing chess if…if we could have just done this…the whole time…instead?”
“As much as I enjoy our…intimate moments, I do place value on spending intellectually stimulating time with you too, kitten.”
“Now you’re…making it sound like I’m…sex-crazed…around you…” Your panting increased, an all too familiar knot tightening in your lower belly.
Sylus laughed. “You’re not. Although…I wouldn’t blame you after getting that first taste.”
“You’re impossible,” you breathed out again. The words were followed by a moan. Sylus slid two fingers into your slick warmth, curling them inside you all the while his thumb kept caressing your clit. Shit, you were so close…so close…
“Sylus…”
“What is it, kitten? Tell me…”
“I’m…I will…oh shit…”
“Come for me,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You let go and fell, your orgasm rippling through you like pure electricity. Your wet walls tightened around his long fingers as he helped you ride it out and relish the taste of every last wave of pleasure consuming you. You kept clenching around rhythmically as that feeling of pure bliss slowly ebbed away again, leaving you breathless in his arms.
“Next time…” you choked out of breath, “…we’re playing UNO.”
Sylus chuckled. “As you wish, kitten.”
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damiansgoodgirll · 3 days
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hi~
can i request a rhea smut where rhea is eating out her secret girlfriend backstage in theirbdressing room and either one of them are on a time limit to start their match? love your writing <3
rhea ripley x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!
‼️smut, soft!rhea, dom!rhea, no plot at all
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5 minutes
rhea was supposed to be in the ring in less than ten minutes to confront dom and liv, continuing the feud between the judgment day. she knew she had a time limit and yet that didn’t stop her from having you laying on the black leather couch inside the dressing room with her kneeled between your legs.
“rhea…we have to go…” you whispered, trying to keep your moans low. you had a match later that night against liv morgan and time wasn’t a problem for you, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were naked, your make up all ruined and hair all messy. you were probably the one who took the most to get ready and you knew that twenty minutes weren’t enough for you to fix the mess rhea made.
“i don’t care…let me make you feel good baby…” she moaned against your pussy. she was addicted to you, like you were her personal drug.
“you’re opening the show in ten minutes rhea…” you brought a hand over your lips trying to keep your whimpers shut.
she left a soft kiss against your clit and chuckled “i only need five minutes to make you crumble under me, you can’t say no baby…” and she was right. she knew you too well, she knew your weak spots and her mouth on your pussy was one of those.
“fuck…okay…hurry though…” you heard her laughing against your skin when you tried to give her orders.
“bossy, aren’t we?” she smirked, tracing your entrance with her tongue, teasing you enough to make your legs shake but not enough to make you cum. her tongue moved skilfully against your clit, her hands over your thighs trying to keep you still and her eyes moving between your folds to your eyes. she loved seeing how hard it was for you to keep it quiet.
“ripley, four minutes” someone screamed outside banging on her door.
“i can make you cum in two…” she whispered, more to your pussy than you. she knew what she was doing, and she knew she was good at playing with you.
you almost screamed when he teeth slowly grazed over your swollen clit. your hand covering your mouth as it was becoming harder to keep it shut “oh shit…” you let a few whimpers out when rhea’s tongue added more pressure over your bundle of nerves.
she moaned, inhaling your scent “right there baby?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“mh…right there, please” it came out as a desperate cry and rhea loved every second of it. she knew your body in a way that you didn’t even know.
rhea alternating between softly kissing your clit and hardly biting and kissing it, the whole situation made your legs shake so much that not even rhea was able to keep your body down “you coming beautiful?”
you couldn’t even answer, too lost in the pleasure your girlfriend was giving you. your hands found her hair and you slightly pushed her even more against your pussy “oh fuck…rhea…” your moans were like melodies for her, she couldn’t get enough. one last flick of her tongue was enough to make you cum in her mouth, but rhea didn’t stop there.
she cleaned you up with her tongue, softly, taking her sweet time to ride you through your orgasm. when you calmed down, she rose up from her knees and she helped you sitting more comfortably on the couch. some tears spilled as you came and rhea noticed your smudged make up. she smiled to herself, bringing a hand to wipe some of those remaining tears as she softly kissed your head “i’ll take good care of you tonight, i promise…” and you believed her, because no matter how rough and mean rhea was to you in bed, she always took time to make you feel safe and to take care of you, especially in those vulnerable states.
“i know…” your voice was barely a whisper.
“i have a show to open…” she smirked, fixing her make up quickly and leaving the room. leaving you there, looking like a mess and sitting naked on the couch as you watched her making her big entrance with her usual cocky smile.
your focus went to the match you had against liv morgan that same night and when you stood up from your sitting position, your looked yourself into the mirror and noticed how ruined your hair and make up were.
“fuck!” you almost screamed, looking at the time and trying to get yourself together before the start of your match.
rhea did a good job on you and you were kinda proud of how she handled you but she left you in a horrible state and you weren’t so sure that you were gonna be able to fix it.
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writeriguess · 3 days
Note
katsuki x reader where the reader is pregnant but in like the early stage and doesnt know she is pregnant yet, she is experiencing morning sickness AGAIN and katsuki takes care of her. she goes to take a test and is positive but doesnt know how to tell him
You wake up feeling that all-too-familiar nausea bubbling in your stomach again. For the past week, mornings had become your worst enemy. At first, you thought it was a bad batch of food or a stomach bug, but this was the fifth day in a row you had sprinted to the bathroom the moment you opened your eyes.
Slumping over the toilet, you groaned, head resting against the cool ceramic. Your body felt drained, and your stomach was still queasy.
"Oi, you in here?" Katsuki’s voice came from behind you.
You barely lifted your head as he walked into the bathroom. His eyes softened, concern immediately washing over his face.
"Again?" he muttered, kneeling down beside you. He gently pulled your hair back and rubbed slow circles on your back. “I thought you were over this crap. Been almost a week now.”
You nodded weakly. “I don’t know… maybe it’s something I ate? But nothing’s off… I don’t know what’s wrong.”
He let out a grunt, not entirely convinced. Katsuki wasn’t exactly the type to freak out, but you could tell he didn’t like seeing you like this. His hands lingered on your back, trying to provide you some comfort.
"You think you should go see a doctor?" he asked, his voice lower now.
You shook your head. "I’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll pass today."
Katsuki was silent for a moment before helping you up. "Here, drink some water. Get yourself together. If this doesn’t stop, I’m dragging your ass to the doctor tomorrow." His tone was gruff but filled with genuine worry.
You chuckled softly, taking the glass of water from him. "Thanks, Katsuki. You’re sweet when you want to be."
He clicked his tongue. "Yeah, whatever."
As the morning went on, you felt slightly better, but something about it kept gnawing at you. The sudden sickness, the fatigue, the strange cravings you’d been having the past week. You weren’t one to jump to conclusions, but there was one thing that kept crossing your mind.
Could I be… pregnant?
The thought alone sent a jolt through your body. You and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been trying, but you hadn’t been overly cautious either.
You excused yourself and slipped out to the drugstore nearby, your heart racing as you picked up a pregnancy test. Back home, you took a deep breath, staring down at the little plastic device. Waiting for those couple of minutes felt like an eternity.
Then, there it was. Positive.
You stared at the result, blinking rapidly, trying to process it.
Pregnant. I’m… pregnant.
The excitement and fear clashed within you. Your mind raced, wondering how Katsuki would react. He wasn’t the most expressive person when it came to emotions, but you knew how much he loved you. Would he be ready for this? Were you ready for this?
You sat on the edge of the bed, holding the test in your hands, trying to think of how to tell him. You couldn’t just blurt it out. Your heart pounded as you imagined his reaction.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Katsuki stepped in, eyeing you suspiciously.
"Why the hell are you just sitting there like that?" he asked, crossing his arms. “You’re all weird today.”
You bit your lip, your hands trembling slightly as you hid the test behind your back. "Katsuki, I… I have something to tell you.”
He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “What is it? You’re being all weird again. What the hell is going on?”
You took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage you had. Slowly, you revealed the test, holding it out to him. His eyes flicked from you to the test, his face going from confusion to shock in a matter of seconds.
Katsuki stared at it, his mouth slightly open. "Wait… are you serious?" he asked, his voice much softer than usual.
You nodded, your own emotions threatening to overflow. “Yeah… I think I’m pregnant.”
He remained silent for a moment, just staring at the test as if he couldn’t believe it. Then, slowly, a smile began to form on his face—a real, genuine smile, the kind you didn’t get to see often. He knelt down in front of you, resting his forehead against your stomach gently.
"You’re pregnant," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re gonna have a kid."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you placed your hands on his head. You nodded, your heart swelling with love and joy. "Yeah, we’re gonna have a kid."
For the first time, Katsuki’s tough exterior cracked, and you could see the pure happiness in his eyes. His hand rested on your stomach, and he looked up at you, his expression soft and full of emotion.
"You’re amazing, you know that?" he said, his voice low. "I’m gonna take care of you… both of you."
And just like that, you knew that everything was going to be okay. You were both in this together, and no matter what, Katsuki would be by your side, ready to face this new chapter with you.
Requests are open. Send as many as you like.
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ins4nebxtch · 1 day
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ultimate IT girl guide
a guide to looking effortlessly perfect
"You’ve got the false narrative of a girl who spends 30 seconds on her appearance, when, in fact, you probably spent hours.”
1. basic hygiene:
having clean teeth and good breath
smelling good 24/7. i highly recommend finding a signature scent as a scent is associated with memory, id suggest something sweet yet not too overpowering like vanilla.
being clean in general. regularly shaving and exfoliating your skin to get rid of bodily hair and dirt that accumulates on your skin to make your skin glow.
clean nails. having clean and maintained nails (with a simple design if you wish) looks better than having acrylics that are wayyy too long and appear tacky.
2. hair :
having smooth healthy hair looks much better than dry and damaged hair. take care of your hair by finding the best products for your natural hair. get rid of your split ends as they make the hair appear really damaged.
in my opinion, loose waves look the most effortless yet pretty. but don’t ruin your natural hair by applying too much heat! you can try heatless styling methods to achieve this look.
3. diet and exercise :
being toned is the way to go to fit this aesthetic
avoid oily foods or sugary foods that damage your skin. don’t completely get rid of these as we all have our cravings, but try your best to avoid it
find a workout plan that works best for you, keeps you healthy but doesn’t burn you out! moreover exercise releases endorphins that improve your mood.
4. makeup and skin care :
natural makeup on clear skin fits this effortless aesthetic perfectly!
take care of your skin by finding a routine that fits you the best, consult with a dermatologist for the best results.
having smooth, blended makeup creates an illusion that you aren’t wearing any at all! this appears much effortless than a full face. also try to avoid those really huge false lashes that make you look tacky.
maintain your eyebrows and find a shape that fits you best!
5. outfits :
having a signature style which suits your body type is essential. experiment until you can find what suits you best! you can use a body analysis app for this.
wearing outfits you’re confident in, hot but not too revealing goes a long way. confidence is key. wearing overly revealing clothing might seem like one is trying too hard, but if you can carry it with confidence then that’s great!
jewellery : having dainty, signature pieces is key! find out which suits you better (gold or silver) through an ai analysis and invest in timeless pieces. personally, i think minimalistic pieces such as solitaires, simple pendants, classic hoops etc. look much more effortless.
6. personality :
don’t be too judgemental towards anyone as you don’t know what they’re going through and this makes you seem unapproachable
don’t talk too much or overshare! this creates a mysterious aura which draws people to you more
confidence is key! posture is very important too, carry yourself with confidence and walk with your head held up high.
7. examples and references :
serena van der woodsen (gossip girl)
mia thermopolis (the princess diaries)
cher (clueless)
elle woods (legally blonde)
rory gilmore (gilmore girls)
robib scherbatsky (how i met your mother)
gigi hadid
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momotonescreaming · 12 hours
Text
All the things I would do
Rating: M | WC: 5.5k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Relationship Study, Kissing, Mild Smut [Read on AO3]
Buck loved having sex in the loft. He loved having sex with Tommy in the loft.
The way he could drag Tommy upstairs by his hand, fingers entwined, no walls or doors in the way to slow them down. The way he could fall backwards onto his mattress, sending Tommy tumbling on top of him with a playful tug of his hand, falling into place easily. Large thighs bracketing his hips, keeping him pinned, held in place — not that Buck wants to leave when Tommy has him like that.
Hand curling around Tommy’s waist, around his neck, pulling him even closer as Buck smiles into a kiss. His boyfriend (boyfriend!) falling into it naturally, almost entirely in sync. Letting himself be pulled, pinning Buck where he wants him. Bracing himself on the mattress to kiss and kiss and kiss Buck.
Buck’s had sex in the loft before, it’s a fact, logically he knows that it’s technically no different than when he was with Ali or Taylor or Natalia. That Buck and Taylor would hurry upstairs with the same desire and rush to have sex that he and Tommy do.
But it feels different. More. Better. Unlike anything else he’s experienced before.
Like he’s a giddy teenager experiencing dating for the first time combined with the freedom and experience of an adult. Maybe it’s just better with Tommy.
Tommy, who was better than Buck could have possibly dreamed.
Who took his whole world and flipped it upside down. Opened his eyes. He was free and he was Tommy’s. He had a boyfriend who was cool with this being his first relationship with a man (once he had gotten over the initial hurdle and panic, which, fair, Buck felt terrible about it too) because they both knew he was in this with Tommy. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure of what he was ready for — he told Tommy as much — but he meant it when he said he was ready for something with Tommy. He liked Tommy, he wanted to be around him, he wanted to explore what dating this incredible man meant.
This incredible man who was cool with whatever pace Buck wanted or needed to set — whether he wanted to slow down or speed up. Buck wanted to explore it all with Tommy.
Who’s always checking in, making sure Buck’s alright, and it never feels condescending. Partly because Buck actually really appreciates a partner doing that for him, showing that they care and don’t want to pressure him into something he’s maybe not ready for just yet. But also partly because he now knows that Tommy needs it as well. To be the partner he never had when he first came out. Not to say that he doesn’t listen to Buck when he says yes, he’s sure. He wants this. He’s ready. Because Tommy listens when he talks, really listens, and takes him at his word when he says he wants more, they can progress.
So they were taking it at Buck’s pace, and Buck couldn’t be happier. So was Tommy, if what he was telling Buck was any indication. The way he looked at him. And why wouldn’t it be. Tommy kept looking at him with happy, crinkly smiles that took over his whole face. With soft, tender gazes that made Buck feel like he was about to melt on the spot.
When Buck said that all he wanted to do was make out like teenagers, groping on his couch with no intention of going any further — Tommy said of course. And he was a very willing participant. Letting Buck explore his lips, his tongue, the way that he kissed him. Kissing him back. Feeling Tommy’s 5 o’clock shadow against his chin, stubble scratching against stubble. Resisting the urge to lick a hot, wet line in the cleft of Tommy’s chin. Muscled shoulders underneath his grasping hands. Sighing and moaning into Tommy’s mouth at every little reminder about just how masculine Tommy is. And just how into it Buck is. A part of Buck wonders why it took him so long to realise that this was something he was into.
Sharp cheekbones and a jaw so chiselled it was like he was made from marble. Short hair and muscles bigger than his. Buck finds himself moaning the first time he gets pinned underneath his boyfriend and realises that if anything, he’s the smaller one in the relationship. They’re the same height, both muscled, but Tommy’s just slightly broader, with a thick chest and biceps as big as his head. He kind of wants to bite him about it.
It feels easy with Tommy, natural, but not like he’s just falling into it with him like when Buck was in his other relationships. Less like he’s being whisked away in someone else’s current and more like he’s going with the flow. Together. He was choosing Tommy and Tommy was choosing him back. It was an easy decision to make. Like he was talking about with Eddie — they just clicked.
He wants to explore everything with him.
Tommy sent him his first ever dick pic, and it was kind of insane how good it was. Blew his fucking mind. He felt like a teenager again with how horny it made him. He remembers it vividly, Buck lounging on his brand new couch, flipping through channels for something to watch, texting Tommy. His boyfriend recently back from shift in his own house and starting to unwind. Took a shower to clean off the day, got changed, and so Buck flirted a little. Maybe asked for a picture. He felt all giddy and little ridiculous as he did it, excitement bubbling up in his chest as Tommy actually sent a photo back.
Reclined into his mattress, one arm resting above his head, gently flexing. Hair all tousled and curling at the nape of his neck where it was still damp from his shower. He was shirtless, because of course he was, camera angled to show off the full expanse of his torso. Showing off his abs, his scar, his pecs, that Buck definitely wanted to bite. Tommy knows what he’s doing, all casual and cool and Buck really can’t get enough of it. He also kind of wanted to make it the lockscreen on his phone, if he wasn’t sure Eddie and Hen and the rest of the 118 would tease him for it as soon as they caught sight of it.
So, biting lip, Buck sent a photo back. Tried to pose in such a way that was flirty, fun and sexy without him looking like a total fuckboy. Although, Buck thought — Tommy would probably like it if he flexed his bicep or lifted his shirt to show off his abs. Posed like a frat boy, just a little. Because he knows that Tommy’s into him. Doesn’t have to worry about sending a photo that’s too much too fast.
It was exciting, exchanging those photos that got sexier and sexier with each click. Buck unbuttoning his shirt, his jeans. While Tommy tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Shucking his pants down his thighs as Tommy sent a photo of him palming himself through the thin fabric of his grey sweats, dick tenting the fabric. And fuck, what Buck wouldn’t give to see that in person. He’d seen people online talk about hot guys in grey sweats before, not thinking much about it, but he gets it now. Slowly starting to forget about angles and flexing his muscles, trying to take the best possible photo for Tommy and focusing on just how fucking hot he felt. Pulse racing, breath coming heavier, excitement running through him. How he wanted to show Tommy just how much he was effecting him.
He was sexting a guy. His boyfriend, even. It was fucking exciting. Invigorating.
And then Buck got his first ever dick pic, and he shamelessly jacked off to thoughts of Tommy in the middle of his living room couch. Didn’t even make it upstairs. Didn’t even think about the possibility of anyone barging into his apartment. Was so caught up in the sight of Tommy — all of him, and damn there was a lot— in the thought of what his dick might feel like in his hands, heavy and warm and velvety skin. What sounds Tommy would be making — moaning like he did in the hospital lobby, gasping and grunting as he got off to thoughts of Buck.
Shirt falling off his shoulders, unbuttoned and baring his naked chest. Pinned on only from the couch underneath him, fabric wrinkling. He didn’t care. Jeans stretched around his thighs, straining as he adjusted himself. Underwear pulled down just enough to expose himself, tucked under his cock, fabric damp with precome. He sent Tommy a photo of that too.
Things progressed easily from there. Buck was all in, no hesitation.
It was like that photo finally broke through the final wall of nerves sitting in Buck’s head — the one of Tommy fisting his hard cock, pretty and pink and leaking, just for Buck. Head thrown back on his bed, exposing the long lines of his neck. That while he was in this, and knew Tommy was hot, had been shamelessly jerking off to thoughts of Tommy — the reality of seeing a cock like that had him a little nervous. It was first. Having a photo made it easier, Buck thought afterwards, breaking through the anxiety of a first time and the what ifs swimming around in Buck’s head.
Tommy was hot. Buck was horny. And he had nothing to be worried about. The heat and the lust and the want rushed through Buck and swept all the anxiety away like a wave.
He wanted phone sex and to come in his pants dry humping with Tommy on the couch. Wanted to drag Tommy into the shower together and get his hands on him. Maybe drop to his knees and ask Tommy to teach him how to suck cock.
And Tommy was there every step of the way.
Dirty talking on the other side of the phone, voice deep and smooth and sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Relationship still so new but Tommy still somehow knowing exactly what to say to make him groan. To feel the heat pooling inside him as Tommy tells him exactly how he’s going to take him apart. To tell Tommy how good he is at this, how perfect. Tell him about all the things he does to Buck — his racing heart, his stuttering words, wanton moaning into the phone.
Ready and willing to rut against Buck like a teenager, sloppily making out in the living room of Tommy’s house. Never once complaining about the denim of his jeans straining against him as they fuck fully clothed. Pinning Buck to his couch, sinking into the cushions, grinding their clothed cocks together. One hand in Tommy’s hair, mussing up his curls; the other raking down his back. Grasping at fabric, feeling the heat of him, the shifting lines of his muscles. Creeping lower to grab at his ass and swallowing Tommy’s moan as he does so. Writhing and rutting against each other until they came in their pants, and Buck was kind of obsessed of the feeling of Tommy pulsing against him, hot and sticky. It was so hot, they’ll definitely be doing that again if Buck has anything to say about it.
Not to say that’s all their relationship is — sex.
Buck finally got to go on that go karting date — at that track out in the desert he’d been talking about — where he had a lot of fun discovering that Tommy was very good at it, actually. Made sense, since he was very much a car guy. It was kind of a perfect date. Out in the sun, clear skies, doing something exciting with Tommy. Racing around the track, calling out and teasing everytime they passed each other. They made a day of it, going for a drive, Buck holding Tommy’s hand over the Jeep’s gear stick. His boyfriend’s large, calloused hand entwined with his, warm and comforting. He felt lighter on the way home, that now achingly familiar giddy-happiness sitting in his chest like honey. Buck drove home with a grin on his face, hand resting on Tommy’s thigh.
There were other dates of course, where they tried a mini golfing place down by the beach and quickly discovered that they were both sort of terrible at it. Spending hours walking through the park together, just talking and enjoying the fact that he was allowed to hold Tommy’s hand. They re-did their dinner date and actually made it to the movie, sneaking glances at each other in the dark of the theatre.
Tommy was taking him on hikes — at some local trails he frequented, where they were surrounded by nothing but nature and the cloudless sky. In a muscle tee with the sleeves cut off, and his familiar blue gym shorts, Tommy led them up the trail with a grin on his face and a backpack strapped to his back. Water bottle, bug spray, sunscreen, emergency first aid kit. It was nice to date someone who got it, another first responder, someone who was just as prepared as he was. The sun beat down on them as they hiked the trail, sun warming his skin until he felt like liquid gold. Talking about everything and nothing, about calls and documentaries Buck had watched. About what work Tommy was doing on his car and a little more about Harbour Station.
His muscles were warm and he was sweaty by the time they finished the trail, Tommy much the same as he drove them both back to Buck’s loft. Safe to say he was distracted on the ride home. He was sun warmed and sated, watching a bead of sweat drip Tommy’s neck as he sighed into the cool air of the Jeep’s AC. Licking his lips, trying very hard not to think about leaning over the centre console and licking it up. Feeling the saltiness on his tongue, the warmth of Tommy’s skin radiating out, the way his breath would hitch.
But Buck really doesn’t want to risk a car accident and have to call 911 — they’ll never hear the end of it. So he lets Tommy drive, watching him navigate the roads of LA with ease. One hand on the wheel, and the other burning hot as it rests on Buck’s thigh. And then, he invites Tommy back up to his loft with a flirty gaze and a coy tilt to his head. He really doesn’t want this date to end. Buck thinks he could spend hours with Tommy and never grow sick of it, never feel the itch that he needs space.
Tommy agrees.
So Buck spent the elevator ride up to his loft bouncing on the balls of his feet, biting his lip and trying to keep his hands to himself. He won’t be able to restrain himself otherwise, and he really doesn’t want to piss off his neighbours. Tommy gives him a knowing glance out of the corner of his eye, gaze raking over Buck’s body. That familiar smirk on his face. He doesn’t feel objectified, like Tommy’s just in it for his body, he feels wanted. Desired.
It feels like the beginning of something.
Sex might not be the only thing their relationship is — but it is an important part. Hell, Buck was a self proclaimed sex addict for a time. It took a lot of reflection, and a lot of talking through it in therapy, but Buck was now comfortable with the fact that him desiring sex, desiring that intimacy — isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having a high sex drive isn’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with needing that connection to another person. Unabashed and unashamed. And he wanted that with Tommy.
Buck wanted that connection, that closeness. He wanted to explore sex, explore his bisexuality — with Tommy. Whether it was hard and fast, hot and steamy, or slow and exploring. He wanted it all.
So as soon as they shut the front door to Buck’s loft behind them — they were on each other. Reaching for each other in tandem. Hands grasping at waists and sweaty shirts, Tommy throwing his backpack onto the floor and kissing Buck as soon as he’s free of it. Buck pulling Tommy towards him by his waist, wrinkling the fabric of his sweaty shirt — sending them slamming into the door behind him with the force of it.
He smiles into Tommy’s mouth as his boyfriend brings an arm up to brace himself on the door — using the leverage to slow their descent into the door, just slightly. His heart jumps as he realises what Tommy did — trying to stop Buck from slamming his head into the door — taking care of him, even now. Even still.
Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin pressing into the palms of his hands. Burning hot, it’s not enough. Skating along the hardened muscle, the sweat pooling on his lower back. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer, closer.
Closing his eyes as Tommy kisses him back. Leaving his arm braced on the door above them, bracketing Buck in, the other burning a hole in his side. All he can smell is sweat and salt and Tommy. There’s nowhere he’d rather be. Kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. Prying Tommy’s mouth open with his tongue, wet and hot. Dripping spit down his chin as he sucks on his tongue.
Tommy groans into his mouth, a low rumble, and he can feel every shake of it where their chests press together. Sticking together with sweat. If Buck was less horny, he’d maybe think about how gross they both were, sticky from hours in the sun. But he is, and Tommy is so fucking hot like this. Sweaty and gross and masculine. He grips the fabric of his shirt, and uses the leverage to pull Tommy’s hips into his. Thin fabric of their gym shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. Feeling every inch of him, the thick hard line of his cock.
Then it’s Buck’s turn to moan unabashedly as Tommy starts to gently rut against him. Mouth dropping to his neck as Buck tilts his gaze towards the roof of the loft. Eyes fluttering open, gasping for air, letting his gasps and moans filter out into the open air.
A giggle escapes him. They’re still pressed to his front door.
Tommy slows, pressing wet kisses down his neck. Along the curve and lines of his jaw. Taking his time with each one, deep but not enough to leave marks. Buck finds himself pushing up Tommy’s shirt, exposing his bare chest as he ruts against him.
“Tommy,” he moans, the word shuddering as he exhales, and there must be something in his voice because Tommy pauses. Pulls away from Buck’s neck, leaving behind a hot wet mark that cools in the open air. Buck would pout at the loss of contact if they weren’t pressed together as close as they are.
Tilting his head, raising an eyebrow in that way he does, Tommy looks at him. Mouth twitching up at the corners. He can see how spit-slick and pink they are. He really wants to kiss him again. “Evan.”
“Why’d you stop?” Buck says, smiling. Panting through the words, heat of his skin cooling in the summer air. Running his hands up Tommy’s sides, along the lines and curves of his muscles. Dipping lower, enjoying every inch of their clothed cocks pressing together. Tilting his head to catch Tommy’s gaze, eyes shining. He still feels all giddy and bubbly inside. The heat and desire boiling up with this undercurrent of sheer joy. “I thought we had something good going.”
“We do.” Tommy says simply, smoothly, smiling softly back at Buck as if he has no idea what he’s doing to him. Bringing his hand down from the door above them, dropping to cradle Buck’s face. Hold his haw in his hand, thumb running in gentle circles. Calloused thumb scratching against his stubble. It’s a good sound. “But I was just wondering if we’d be more comfortable in that big fancy shower of yours. There’s room for two, isn’t there?”
“There is now,” Buck says giddily, the smooth tone of Tommy’s voice washing over him, rolling through him. Sending a shiver down his spine, straight to his thickening cock. He’s sure Tommy can feel it. Good. He loves it when Tommy puts the moves on him, and loves being able to show him exactly how much.
He grabs Tommy’s hand, laughing giddily as he pulls them both into the bathroom. Tommy’s chucking behind him, fingers entwined with his. Kicking the door behind them, slamming shut, but neither flinch at the sound.
Tugging gently on their entwined hands, Tommy pulls Buck back into his orbit, reaching out with his other hand to rest on his hip. Steadying them. Bodies pressed together, still warm and sweaty, but the red-hot urgency is cooling.
Buck can go at Tommy’s pace, too. It’s nice, when Tommy lets himself set the lead like this, when he knows it’s something Buck’s into and comfortable with. He bites his bottom lip, plush and pink, drawing Tommy’s eyes down as he gently brings their hips together again. Not moving, not writhing and grinding like he wants to, just pressing the lengths of them together. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Tommy says back, voice just on the edge of teasing. Buck kind of really wants to keep kissing him. So he does. Eyes fluttering shut as he brings their lips together again, hand resting on the back of Tommy’s head, tangling through his sweat-damp curls. He moans into Tommy’s mouth, deepening the kiss, when Tommy pulls back.
Buck chases his lips with his, almost subconsciously, already so caught up in the feeling of Tommy’s kisses. He’s sort of addicted already, ever since that fateful day in the middle of the loft. What can he say, Tommy’s a good kisser. Good enough to flip his whole world on his head. Open his eyes. Tommy chuckles gently at Buck chasing his lips, gently rubbing his thumb in circles at Buck’s waist.
“Wanna get the shower going for us, baby?” Tommy says, voice deepening as his eyes lock with Buck’s. Squeezing their entwined hands as he takes a step back, increasing the space in between them. Hands anchoring them together, even still, and Buck appreciates it. His heart jumps in his chest as he squeezes back.
“Oh yeah?” Buck flirts, eyes shining as he looks over at Tommy, shining under the overhead lights of the bathroom. “And what are you gonna do?”
“Well I don’t know about you,” Tommy teases, releasing Buck’s hand and smiling. A coy little tilt to his mouth, shining eyes. “But I figured I’d start here.”
And then he’s locking eyes with Buck, gaze darkening, as he reaches an arm behind his head to grip at his shirt and pull it over his head. Buck watches the shifting his muscles as he rolls out his shoulders, the grin on Tommy’s face as he shakes out his hair. As he puts on a little show knowing that Buck is watching.
Trailing down the length of his body, his pecs — shining with sweat, his abs, the trail of hair that dips below his shorts. Buck licks his lips, smirking back at his boyfriend.
“You sure I can’t just stay right here?” Buck teases with a tilt of his head. Angles his body, flexes his restless hands. “Keep watch. Make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I-I’m a firefighter, you know?”
Tommy huffs out a laugh, face crinkling up in that now achingly familiar way as he throws his damp shirt to the ground. Neither of them watch to see where it lands. “I’ll be fine. You can look all you want later.”
“You promise?” Buck flirts, deepening his voice and eyes darkening as he roams his gaze over Tommy’s naked torso.
"I promise," he says, smirking back over at his boyfriend. Teasing. Flirting. Just the way Buck likes.
"I'm gonna hold you to to that," Buck teases back, delaying the inevitable moment where he rips his gaze away from Tommy. From his now exposed chest, the sweaty tanned planes of his skin. Exposed and tempting. He bites his lip, eyes wandering over Tommy one last time. Drinks in the sight of him, the feel of his gaze locked with his.
He eventually gives in and turns to the shower. Opens the door and turns the water on, fidgeting with the controls. Trying to find the sweet pot between too hot and too cold.
Tommy, Buck was learning, was almost always cold. Always wearing an undershirt, or had a jacket thrown over his outfit. Always had a throw blanket draped over the back of his couch, or pulled over his legs. Thrived in the hot summer sun, and loved his showers scorching hot.
Buck was fine with the cold. If anything, the LA sun was an adjustment for him. Was walking around in shirts when everyone else was donning long sleeves. Layers. Found there was nothing wrong with a cool refreshing shower.
Hence, the need to find the sweet spot between not too hot, and not too cold. Logically Buck knew as soon as they were both in the shower together their attention would be drawn away from as something as simple as temperature. Towards sweat and skin and the heat of their bodies pressed together. But he couldn't help but try. Try and make it good for Tommy, for himself, for the both of them together. Find the sweet spot that worked for the both of them.
He wanted to make it work.
Logically he knows that it’s just a shower, that they’ll be distracted soon anyway, but he can’t help but want to make it good for Tommy. Make the water a little hotter than normal, just for him. Show Tommy that he wants to take care of him too, that he’s learning things about Tommy and he wants to keep learning.
There’s a rustle of clothes behind him, a squeak of shoes against tiled floors, barely audible over the sound of the now running shower. Buck bites his lip, barely holding back a grin, as he dutifully continues adjusting the water. Arm reaching in, feeling the water run over his hand. Wet and heating up quickly.
He’s barely focusing on the water. Letting the rush of water splashing against tile wash over him like white noise, absently adjusting the temperature and pressure of the water as he focuses on the sounds behind him. Of Tommy toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, placing them in a pile by the door. In that way Buck is noticing he almost always does. His stomach swoops at the thought — that Tommy’s been around enough for Buck to start to notice more of his habits.
Then Buck swears he hears the sound of Tommy’s gym shorts hitting the floor, and he can’t hold back the sharp inhale of air. Warm and cloying with steam, holding in his lungs.
Buck makes himself keep looking at the shower.
Hair at the back of his neck standing on end, goosebumps rolling down his arm as he feels Tommy’s presence behind him. Sweaty, naked, so fucking hot — and Buck’s not looking at him. The unspoken rule that they’ve created, when Tommy took the lead and told him to turn around. Start the shower.
Heat pooling low in his gut, that familiar itch burning underneath his skin, Buck’s in the middle of giving in and turning around anyway when he feels it. His hands on his waist, thick and calloused and burning into his side through the thin fabric of his shirt. Breath hitching as he feels the sheer presence of Tommy behind him.
Tilting his head to try and get a look at his boyfriend behind him, holding in place as Tommy slowly presses closer to him. He catches a glimpse of him smirking, face crinkling up in that way it does, before Tommy squeezes his waist and closes the distance between them.
Buck gasps as he feels Tommy press up behind him, all hard muscles and sweaty skin. Calloused hands holding him tight as Tommy’s cock presses up against his ass. One hand still braced in the shower, feeling the rush of water; the other reaching backwards to try and get a hold of any part of Tommy. To press him even closer, to feel his skin burning into his.
Now that he has this, now that he knows this about himself, Buck really doesn’t know how he didn’t realise this earlier. His attraction to men, and masculinity, and the way it made him feel. Broad shoulders and hands larger than his. Hard muscles and hairy bodies.
But a part of him actually really likes that Tommy was the one who helped him realise. That he’s not just attracted to men, he’s attracted to Tommy. He likes Tommy’s broad shoulders and mechanics hands. His muscles and the snail trail that leads down his abdomen. He likes his short hair and 5 o’clock shadow. He likes the way Tommy makes him feel. He likes the way Tommy shows up for him. To dinner, and to the café, and to hopefully many more.
He really likes the way Tommy is now kissing down his throat, leaving wet marks in his wake. Hands still on his waist, body pressed against him, enveloping his. Buck groans, tilts his head to give Tommy more room, and starts to rut backwards.
“I can’t help but feel,” Buck gasps, as Tommy nips at his skin and quickly soothes the mark with his tongue. “That I’m overdressed.”
“Oh you are, are you?” Tommy murmurs into his skin, and he can feel the sounds vibrating through them, rumbling his chest. “I can fix that.”
And the his hands are dipping lower, skating along his sides before pushing up the hem of his shirt. Achingly slow at first, skin on skin contact sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Calloused hands sending out sparks. That itch under his skin building again, rising and burning with each inch of skin Tommy touches.
His boyfriend laughs behind him, calls him impatient, before kissing his neck again. And then they’re stripping him down, faster now, hands on waists and chests and grasping at fabric. Tommy pulling off his shirt and Buck kicks off his shoes, not caring where they land. He thinks he absently hears them thump on the wall before Tommy gets his hands on his shorts and all of a sudden Buck is very distracted.
He absently thinks how hot it would be if Tommy just ripped his shorts right off his body, as he grips onto the shower while Tommy slides his shorts and his underwear down his legs in one fell swoop. Hands gripping the waistbands, fingers curled under the elastic, pressed into his bare skin.
As soon as he’s free he grabs Tommy’s wrist and pulls, sending the two of them tumbling into the shower. Water burning hot, soothing worn out muscles and sweaty skin. Tommy dutifully following behind, closing the door behind him.
They instantly forget about the water. Focusing on sweat and skin and soap and their two bodies pressing together. Water soaked kisses where their spit mixes with the spray of the shower. Slick bodies moving in tandem, and yet rooted to the spot.
Tommy’s planting his feet and bracing an arm on the wall behind Buck. He’s making sure they don’t slip, that Buck’s safe in his arms. And if anything, that’s what drives Buck to determination. To grasp their cocks in one hand, to want to make Tommy gasp and moan and grunt as he comes apart.
He loves the noises Tommy makes. Cataloguing them in his head, making note of what he can do to pull a noise out of Tommy. Figuring out what he likes and what he loves. The exploration, the figuring things out has always been a favourite part of sex for Buck. He’s a good fuck, he knows this, but it’s the exploring what his partners like and wants is what really drives him. It’s not enough to be a good fuck in general, he wants to be a good fuck to them.
To Tommy.
He wants to be good for Tommy. To hear him groan and moan Buck’s name. To hear him say perfect, and right there, just like that, and you’re so good to me Evan.
There’s going to be a lot of soft, tender sex in their future, Buck knows this for certain. Doesn’t even have to ask. Tommy will pick him up and carry him upstairs like he weighs nothing, gently lowering him down onto his bed, gaze soft and loving. They’re going to fuck face to face, so Buck can hold Tommy’s hand and they can kiss each other senseless. Slow and sensual, the two of them sinking into the moment as they sink into each other. Kissing all the words that are too soon to say into each other’s mouths.
Buck can’t fucking wait.
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marvelsmylife · 22 hours
Text
An unconventional love story
Pairing: Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader
Plot: when you fall pregnant with your husband's child. Rhysand, along with his brothers and your brothers must put their differences aside to help save your life
Masterlist
Request
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You and Rhysand didn’t have a storybook love story. You were arranged to get married because your father wanted more power and all but sold you to Rhysand. You could tell this was just a business transaction for Rhysand so you didn’t bother trying to get to know him at first. Fortunately for you, the courtship lasted three years before your actual wedding. The courtship was painfully awkward at the beginning. 
While you and Rhys didn’t speak unless you were forced to, you ended up forming a close friendship with Mor. Yes, it was awkward at first, seeing as she had a bad relationship with your oldest brother. You reassured her you weren’t like him and slowly gained her trust. She, in turn, would encourage Rhysand to talk to you more and get to know you better.
Rhysand would take what his cousin said to heart and would try to get to know you better. Of course, you were walking on eggshells and overall awkward when you were in the same room together. He knew you initially didn’t want to marry him but was willing to do it for the sake of your father and your court. 
He asked you repeatedly if you were sure about getting married because he didn’t want to force you if you genuinely didn’t want to go through with the marriage. “Yes,” I would almost shout in response, “it’s just that this is all new to me. I’ve never even had my first kiss yet because of how controlling my father is. I feel like won’t be enough for you.”
Rhysand sighed at your explanation and ended up pulling you into an embrace, “You are enough for me. If I’m being honest, I was the one to suggest this marriage to your father and hid it as a business transaction because I got wind he was planning on marrying you off to one of Keir’s men.” 
Rhysand shuttered as he recalled that night vividly. Rhysand was walking through the halls of Hewn City when he overheard Keir and your father's voice. “Don’t worry, her maidenhood is still intact. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet” your father said and Rhysand found himself clenching his fist. He couldn’t believe your father was willing to marry you off to someone as sleazy as one of Keir’s men. That’s when he walked in and offered to marry you in exchange for an alliance between your courts. Your father was all too eager to accept Rhysand’s offer.
Letting out a sigh I replied, “Honestly I’m not surprised. Although, I’m a little happier knowing I’m marrying you and not one of Keir’s men,” I scrunched up my nose, “you’re way more attractive than any of them.”
A smirk appeared on Rhysand’s face at your words, “You think I’m attractive?”
“We’ll yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you answered honestly “I’d much rather marry you than marry any of Keir’s men.”
Rhysand laughed softly at your comment and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “You are something else y/n. I can’t wait to marry you.”
You felt your face growing hot at Rhysand’s words. “Can I ask for a favor?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. Rhysand nodded and you continued, “Could you kiss me? I don’t want to have my first kiss to happen in front of everyone at our wedding.”
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your request but complied. He cupped your face before leaning in and kissed you. It was short and sweet but you found yourself smiling by the end. “There. Now your first kiss won’t be in front of hundreds of fae” Rhysand smiled down at you.
“Thank you,” you smiled up at Rhysand, “and I promise I’ll be a perfect wife for you.”
“I don’t want you to be perfect,” Rhysand replied, “I just want you to be happy in our marriage. My parents didn’t have a happy marriage and although I’m technically marrying you without you having a say. I do want you to be happy in our marriage.”
You gave Rhysand a genuine smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. “I can already tell I’m going to be happy in our marriage,” you held onto each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and saying your goodbyes. Not realizing the next time you would see each would be at your wedding.
Your first time with Rhysand was surprisingly great for both of you. It was no secret that Rhysand wasn’t a virgin when you started courting, but you were. Your father wanted you to be pure for your future spouse so he would execute any males who would dare show interest in you. Your father was proud of himself as he announced it in front of everyone at the wedding reception.
While you wanted to crawl into a hole and die at your father’s words, so Rhysand reached over and held your hand to comfort you. “It’s going to be ok” Rhysand whispered to you to try and calm you down.
After the reception, you and Rhysand made your way to the private residence your father bought for this specific moment. You were in the bathroom getting ready to consummate your marriage. Once you were ready, you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Rhys lying down on the extravagantly large bed. There was no doubt it was designed specifically to accommodate his large wings.
Your breath hitched as you noticed Rhysand checking you out. You felt the urge to cover yourself at his stare but opted not to because you knew he was now allowed to stare at you in that manner. “Um,” I paused “as you know, I haven’t been with anyone so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whispered as you played with your fingers.
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and got up from the bed, before walking over to where you were standing. “It’s ok, little red. I’ll guide you through this,” Rhysand ran his finger against your cheek before settling it on your waist.
You start breathing heavily as Rhysand pulls the straps of your white, lace nightgown; making it drop on the floor. Your long red hair cascaded over your breasts, “Wow” Rhysand whispered as he saw your bare chest. Feeling self-conscious, you tried to cover your, but Rhysand stopped you. “Never hide yourself from me,” Rhysand whispered as he removed your hands before pushing your hair back so he could see your breasts “They’re beautiful.”
A low groan escaped from Rhysand’s lips as he ran his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your heart started racing as Rhysand took one of your nipples into his mouth and began to suck on it. “Do you like that?” Rhysand asked as he held onto you possessively.
“Yes” I whimpered softly as you ran your hands through Rhysand’s raven-black hair, “I really like it.”
Rhysand groaned at your actions and decided to lift you by your thighs and carry you to the bed. His eyes were glued to you as he laid you down on the bed. “I’m going to make this a night you’ll never forget.”
You smiled as Rhysand took his time and worshipped your body. He spent a solid thirty minutes between your legs, getting you ready for his cock. He made sure he talked to you the entire time to make you feel comfortable. Once he knew you were prepared, Rhysand lined his cock against your entrance “Relax, ok?” You gave a small nod before he carefully slid into you slowly. “Fuck. You’re so deliciously tight,” Rhysand groaned as he tried to control himself so he didn’t slam in all at once. 
“It still hurts,” You shut your eyes as tight as you could as Rhysand’s cock stretched you out.
Rhysand heart hurt at your cry, “I know sweetie, but it’ll pass and you’ll feel good. Just like before with my tongue. You just have to relax your body.”
You tried what Rhysand said and relaxed while he continued to insert his cock fully inside you. Once he was, he remained still for several seconds as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you and only wanted to continue when you gave him the ok. After a few minutes, you were able to fully relax and whisper into his ear, “You can start moving.”
Rhysand looked you in your eyes to make sure you were ok before he slowly started to move inside you carefully. He could tell you were still uncomfortable so he started kissing your neck in an attempt to distract you. It worked because slowly your whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. “You feel amazing y/n.”
“Rhys” you panted as you began to dig your nails into his back. Hearing his name slip out of your lips only encouraged Rhysand to pick up his pace while his hands roamed your body. “It feels so good,” you shut your eyes as you let yourself get consumed with pleasure.
Soft cries of pleasure and groans filled the room as you and Rhysand made love that night. By the end Rhysand had you lying on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings into your ears. “Thank you for being gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my maids about how horrible some males get when they’re being intimate with a female.”
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and held you close. “I will never hurt you. You are my wife, my equal and I will show you nothing but respect during our marriage,” with that Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead before both of you drifted off to sleep.
From that night forward yours and Rhysand’s relationship changed for the better. You were no longer awkward around each other. You often sought each other out and constantly had to be touching. He also had to explain to you that you had to put on a mean persona whenever you had to visit the Hewn City. He explained he created a mean persona so the people in Hewn City would fear him.
Fortunately for him, you mastered the mean persona while living with your father in the autumn court. You had to toughen up at a young age because most of your brothers would bully you for being the only female among them. The only brothers you genuinely got along with were Eris and Lucien. Eris because he didn’t see you as a threat and Lucien because you were his baby sister and felt more of an urge to protect than bully. 
You loved Lucien so much for being so kind to you growing up, that he was the first to find out you were pregnant.
It was a warm summer evening when he came over for his weekly visit. He immediately knew something was different about you but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until he was up close when could see your glowing face that he realized you were pregnant. “I’m so excited for you, baby sister. I know you will be an amazing mother,” Lucien exclaimed as Rhysand entered the room. Lucien then proceeds to hug Rhys and tell him he’s happy for him as well.
Unfortunately, the joyous news was short-lived when Madja informed Rhysand in private that the baby had wings. Rhysand silently cursed himself because he had a feeling that was going to happen. He had tried for months to try to convince you not to have kids. He disguised it as he saw them as a burden, but in reality, he wanted nothing more than to have a mini version of the two of you. You ultimately got your way and managed to convince Rhysand that you guys needed an heir for the nigh court.
Ever since that revelation, Rhysand would silently panic about how he was going to tell you that your baby would most likely kill you. He would think back to the old version him, the one who wouldn’t have cared for your well-being. He often wished he could punch that old version of him and tell him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Seeing as he’s come to love and cherish you, he couldn’t bring himself to think of a world where you’re not in it.
As weeks passed and was running out of options on how to save both your life, Rhysand finally goes to Eris and Lucien for help. They were both rightfully mad that Rhysand hid this from not only them but also you. “How could you keep this from our sister? Our sister might die because of you.” Eris scolded your husband as Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien winced.
“You don’t think I know that!” Rhysand barked back as he ran his hands over his face, “I tried, I tried hard to convince her not to have a child but she was very persistent.” Rhysand found himself breaking down as the realization that you might die hit him, “I-we can’t let that happen. That’s why I called you guys. I need your help finding a way to save my wife’s life.”
Both Eris and Lucien’s anger disappeared once they heard Rhysand’s pleas. “I’ll ask around the other courts. Hopefully one of them knows something that can help us,” Eris gave Rhysand a weak smile.
“I’ll ask around the mortal lands. See if they somehow know something,” Lucien added. He walked up to his brother-in-law and patted his shoulder, “We’re going to figure this out and save my sister, ok?” Rhysand nodded as all five males in the room began working together to save your life.
Months quickly passed by with little to no progress on how to help you. Time ran out one morning when your water finally broke while you were gardening outside. “Rhys ! ! !” you shouted at you clenched your stomach, “it’s time, the baby is coming.”
Rhysand appeared by your side in a matter of seconds and guided you to your bed before calling out to Madja. “It’s going to be ok, my darling y/n,” Rhysand kissed the top of your head as he helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown.
Meanwhile, in the day court, Eris was thanking Helion for managing to find a tonic that would help you deliver the babe without harming both of you. “Thank you for your help. The autumn court is in your debt.” Eris informed Helion.
“Don’t worry about it. Y/n has become a good friend ever since she and Rhys got married,” Helion smiled before Eris left for the night court.
Fortunately for everyone, you were still in the early stages of your delivery when Eris arrived and rushed to your side. “Drink this,” Eris uncapped the tonic and gave it to you. You gave him a funny look before he angrily said. “Drink this.”
“Ok, you don’t have to be rude,” you took the tonic before handing the empty bottle back to Eris. “Why did you-oh” Your face morphed for a few seconds as you felt something change within your body.
Rhysand, Eris, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all watched carefully. Rhysand bent down and got ahold of your hand, “my love, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “I felt as if my body changed” You looked over at Madja and began to panic, “did something bad happen to my baby?”
Madja rushed over and examined you, “Mother above, I didn’t think this would be possible,” Madja whispered before looking up at you, “yes, it looks like the baby is ok. It’s just that your anatomy changed so you’ll be able to deliver the baby properly.” Madja looked over at Eris “I don’t know what you gave her, but you just saved her’s and the babe's life.”
Eris had a small smile on his face at Madja’s words as he watched from the side as you gave birth to your child. 
You smiled down at your baby boy, who happened to have his father’s skin complexion and violet eyes with your fiery red hair and your nose. “He’s perfect” you gushed as you held your son in your hands. You looked up and noticed everyone staring at you and the baby, “do you want to hold your son, Rhysand?”
Rhysand was more than happy to hold his son while Lucien bent down next to you and kept repeating how happy and proud he was of you. “You did good y/n. That is the most precious babe I’ve ever seen. He’s going to be so loved by us and the two courts his parents are from.”
“Thank you, Lucien. You and Eris,” you look over at Eris who was also knelt down beside you, “are the best brothers anyone can ask for.” 
Lucien gently kissed your hand before him and Eris backed up and Rhysand take their place. “Look at him. He’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up,” Rhysand bent down so he was close to you while holding our child.
“He better not. He’s going to respect females from a very young age,” you laughed as you placed your hand on top of Rhysand’s.
In that instant, both you and Rhysand felt the mating bond snap between the two of you. “Would you look at that?” Rhysand chuckled “It only took you giving birth to our son for the mating bond to snap into place for us.”
You let out a soft laugh as Rhysand handed you back the baby so you could nurse him. “I love you, Rhys.”
“I love you too, my darling y/n” Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand. Content that not only did he still have you in his life, but that your baby boy was here as well and he was healthy.
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rinachains · 1 day
Text
synopsis: in which your leader invites you for a drink and you see a new side of him.
wc: 2.1k
contents: cult leader!geto x gn!reader; tipsy, clingy geto; fluff, small warning for cult!leader geto lol; alcohol consumption
a/n: pls keep in mind that english is not my first language. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
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It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Geto to invite you to join him in his office. Usually, though, you drank tea or coffee and sipped your soothing beverages as you chatted about your day, your duties and anything else that came to mind. You actually assumed he didn't drink alcohol at all - until now.
You were currently standing in his dimly lit office after he asked you to come over earlier that day, taking in the view of him pulling out a bottle of sake and two glasses, putting them on the small, wooden table in front of him. His long, silky onyx hair was tied back in a low ponytail, his usual monk attire had been discarded and replaced with a plain black robe that revealed a glimpse of his strong, broad chest. You could see a faint, healed scar on his otherwise smooth, pale skin. It was unfair how beautiful he looked without even trying, how ethereal.
“Are you planning on joining me eventually or do you want to stand by the door for the rest of the evening?” His purple eyes met yours, a glint reflecting in them, drawing you to him as if you were a crow seeing a shiny object. “C’mon, you know I won’t bite.”
Feeling a little flustered about acting so awkward, you hurriedly walked over to the table where you sat down opposite him on the soft cushions beneath you and crossed your legs to make yourself more comfortable. You couldn't help but naively think that this felt a bit like a date, but you knew better, didn't you? You were just driven by your own hormones because you weren't quite used to the attention of a man like him yet.
“Is there an occasion for this or did you just suddenly feel the urge to get drunk, Master Geto?”, you asked in a subtle, amused tone to relax yourself and get rid of the tension, raising an eyebrow as you eyed the table.
“No special occasion, I just wanted to share a drink with you.”
“Oh, but I don’t really drink”, you said sheepishly, holding your hand out in front of you. “I mean, I could go for one glass of sake, but I’m afraid that’s my limit.”
He chuckled, looking up briefly through his eyelashes before concentrating on pouring the drinks. “Are you a lightweight or just not fond of the taste?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I’m not much of a drinker either, but I thought it could help with relaxing. This week was pretty draining.”
Every time you two would have your little meetings, he would actually indulge you by sharing how his day went and what he’s planning next, but it never truly went deeper than that, solely scratching the surface. You weren't sure if he ever told you how he really felt. He held back, and you couldn't blame him for that. You always wondered why his hatred for non-sorcerers ran so deep, why he started this cult, what finally made him do what he's doing now. You desperately wanted to know and absorb everything about him, but you had to hold back. You wanted him to open up on his own because you were afraid you might overstep your boundaries and destroy the casual bond you two had forged.
He hummed approvingly as he observed you bringing your filled cup up to your mouth and taking small, measured sips. “Self-restraint is good, it’s quite hard to not be greedy.”
Then, contrary to you, he downed his drink in one go, making you choke back a startled laugh. His tongue darted out to lick the remaining liquid on his lips as he put his cup down. You felt your mouth fall slightly open at the sight, resisting the urge to copy him and lick your own lips.
It’s been about a year and a half since you joined Geto’s side. You remembered that day clearly, every single detail burned into your brain.
He was a stranger approaching you in his monk's robes, and for a moment you assumed you were surely going to be dragged into a cult. Which wasn't entirely wrong - you were technically part of a cult now, except you were the one doing the scamming, and he was helping you discover something very important about yourself - your cursed energy and technique.
Years, almost decades, of feeling as if you were crazy, until you met someone who finally understood and proofed to you that you weren’t crazy, but, in fact, special. You were no longer lonely; for once you were surrounded by people and there was no loneliness that weighed you down.
He was your leader, but he never made you feel inferior. Your group was more like a family; that’s what he said to you from the beginning, what he promised with such earnest enthusiasm. You’d join his family, become a part of it, a new member. You’d finally belong.
It also didn’t help that he was handsome – devilishly so. You didn't think you'd ever met anyone as captivating as him, with eyes so keen and sharp, smile so nihilistic and almost cruel, voice so gentle and soothing. Truthfully, he had you under his spell the moment you encountered those purple hues.
Normally, he was carrying himself in such a collected, mature manner, domineering and commanding but without being brash and forceful – he was a natural leader who effortlessly managed to wrap others around his long fingers, including you.
Now, as the two of you were sitting here, and you slowly finished your one drink and he was already on his third one, there was a light flush coating his cheeks, his hair lightly disheveled, a few more strands than usual hanging in his face, framing his delicate, sharp features. It gave him a boyish charm that made the corner of your lips curl up, your cheeks feeling warm (and not just from the alcohol). It was vulnerable in a way; you wondered if you were the first one to see him in such a state. The thought of someone else getting this view made your stomach churn; you wanted to be the first and the only one. A view reserved for you eyes only.
“Let me pour you another one, Master Geto”, you exclaimed, reaching out for the bottle and carefully pouring more liquid in his cup.
His eyes intently followed your movements, hand twitching with the secret urge to pet your head and relish the softness of your hair. So eager to please.
“Suguru.”
“Huh?”, you quickly turned your attention towards him again, just as you put down the bottle on the table.  
“Call me Suguru.” His head tilted to the side, bang swinging with his lazy movements, and he put his hands behind him, leaning back. “We’ve known each other for a while now. And I trust you. Shouldn’t the person I trust call me by my first name?”
“You-“, you choked out a response, flustered by his unexpected directness, “you can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?”, he gave you a look of genuine confusion, making you hold back a chuckle at his current childlike nature. “I want to be honest with the people I care about.”
A huff escaped your lips, more collected now. “I guess that checks out since you lie so much on a daily basis.”
“Hmh, exactly”, he purred, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest and you swore you could almost feel it despite the small distance between you. “I have to lie so much to these monkeys, ‘have to play pretend. I don’t have to do that with you.” Something akin to a blissful expression formed on his face and his voice was so insufferably sultry, dripping honey that you could almost taste on your own tongue.
You pursed your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. “But you’re still my leader, it wouldn’t be really appropriate to call you by your first name”, you paused for a moment, watching his face and thinking for a brief moment that it almost looked like he was sulking. “Plus the other ones still call you Master Geto.”
“Mhm but that is different”, he sighed, confusing you even more. Different how? “And, if you insist that I’m your leader, then I give you the order to call me by my first name. You can’t resist my orders, can you?”
You let out a sigh in return, sounding exhausted, though you weren’t sure from what exactly. Maybe it was time to go for you, feeling like you’d lose your mind the longer you were with him in his current (incredibly irresistible) state.
“I believe I have to go now, Suguru. I have to be up early tomorrow.” You carefully got up from your sitting position and turned your back to him, and just as you were about to walk towards the door, you were suddenly held back and placed on the floor again, making you let out a gasp.
Strong arms were wrapped around your waist, holding onto your stomach, lightly squeezing, but still considerate with their touch. Geto’s scent enveloped you, something earthy and fresh, and just so addictive. It smelled like home. The warmth he radiated surrounded you, you were able to feel his broadness and his muscles against your body, reminding you of a shield rather than a cage. You didn’t believe you ever felt so secure.
“Don’t go.”  
“Suguru…”
“Stay here. S’comfortable when you’re around.” Oh.
You tilted your head, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his face, only for your nose to almost touch his cheek. A shiver ran down your spine. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, and his eyebrows slightly furrowed; he appeared almost pained. As if the mere thought of you leaving him would hurt him deeply. You felt your knees getting weaker and you became overly aware of the way you were breathing, trying to tell yourself to take normal, regular breaths.
“Say: do you like being here?”, you felt his warm breath hitting your bare nape as he lowered his head, your hair standing up and goosebumps covering your body. “Do you ever regret joining me?”
Surprised by his sudden questioning, you raised your eyebrows. “Have I given you the impression that I did?”
His thin lips dropped into something resembling a pout. “Answer my question.”
You resisted the urge to poke his forehead, instead holding your hands still by your sides, lightly grazing his arms that were still wrapped around you, his finger caressing your covered stomach in soothing circles. “No, I never regretted joining you. In fact, I believe it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
He hummed, somewhat satisfied by your answer yet still skeptical.
“You could have lived a simpler life.”
“Sure, perhaps I could have lived a life in blissful ignorance”, you huffed. “But I also would have lived the rest of my life wondering what’s wrong with me. Maybe I would have become mad at some point. You gave me the answers I needed, and more. You gave me purpose.”
Geto was sure – sooner or later Satoru would have discovered you and taken you under his wing. You would have become a jujutsu sorcerer; putting your life at risk, just to save monkeys who neither cared nor were even aware of your existence. No, he couldn’t have allowed this. The thought made his skin crawl, images of you being life stock haunting his mind. You were made for something better, you deserved more than that, to be untainted and free from the shackles of jujutsu society. Only he could give you that. Perhaps he was selfish in that way, for needing to have you by his side, but he would gladly indulge in that selfishness if it promised your proximity to him and your safety.  
You directed your stare towards the ceiling, a contemplative expression grazing your features. “I guess you saved me.”
You couldn’t see how his eyes were now less drowsy and became bigger, a sparkle appearing in them, and how the colors in his already reddened cheeks seemed to deepen.
“Saved you, huh”, he murmured under his breath, voice coming out muffled as he tucked his chin further into your shoulder, almost nuzzling you. Your heart stuttered at the contact, cursing him internally for touching you so casually, for acting so intimate with you.
“I’ll always keep you safe. That’s a promise. No filth should ever touch or harm you.”
“That’s quite a big promise.”
His hand grabbed your chin then, a gentle yet firm grip, the sheer size of his large palm covering it, fingertips barely grazing your bottom lip. He held your gaze, so intense and unwavering that it made your throat dry and afraid to swallow. “I mean it.”
“Alright”, you whispered, as if it was a secret only the two of you should know, forming an invisible string that held you together. “I’ll hold you to it.”
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 day
Note
Hello again I’m the one addicted to your dealer!remus writing, you have such a good way of writing his character and I love it! Anyways I hope you’re feeling better I’m currently poorly as well and it sucks. If you’re feeling up to it I would love more of your writing. Maybe a dealer!remus who meets fem reader at a ren faire and she’s like a siren or fairy or something? Idk I trust you
Also if you don’t have a 🐡 or 🫧 anon I would love to be one or both of those since I have a feeling you might be seeing more of me 🥰
I hope this is okay! I’ve never been to a ren faire but I’d love to go one day though! Of course you can be both!
“You’re a nymph.” A man in pirate costume says as he helps you climb up the stairs to the stalls.
You’re in a sheer purple skirt that has vines hanging down to your thighs, there’s a slit somewhere that shows off your skin and your green blouse has sleeves that flow down your arms and behind you.
The chains in your waist clink as the crystals hanging on them knock against each other with each step.
“And you’re a pirate,” you take a glance at his eyes and flash him a smile when you notice how red his eyes are. “A very high pirate.”
The pirate man smiles, a silver scar splitting his lip making him look handsome. His sandy brown hair also works with his outfit, making it look like he’s spent years at sea with the sun and salt water to bleach his hair.
“They do like their influences.” He says making you laugh. “What about nymphs?”
You give a demure shrug, “We do live amongst them.” The pirate man’s hand shifts to your shoulder, adjusting some of the leaves and foliage there.
You know in your bones this man is a flirt, especially when he flashes you an easy smile when you look up at him.
“Is this your first ren faire?” You ask you walk ahead of him, smiling when you hear his boots clicking as he follows behind you.
“Second, but my friends seem to have abandoned me.”
You glance over your shoulder, finding the pirate man tucking a roll on behind his ear. You never would have imagined a simple action like that would be so attractive. “I can keep you company for the time being then. Will you drink tap beer?”
When he nods you smile and order two glasses.
“Where are your friends? Or are you a veteran of the ren faire?” You ask as you wait for the beer, leaning on the counter as you look at the man before you.
He has this soft beauty to him and his pirate get up makes it rogue-ish but also there’s flashes of the softness of it all underneath it all.
You smile as the pirate man rushes to pay, and hands you your glass first. “It’s my fifth year, but my friends are about somewhere.” You take a sip of your beer. “To be honest, I snuck away to save myself from being tie breaker to a game of darts.”
Your new friend raises an eyebrow and you spy another scar slicing through the skin there. “What’s so bad about darts?”
Your tone turns bashful and you look up at him through your eyelashes, “I have terrible aim. What’s missing from this outfit is a pair of glasses that irritate my eyes much less than the contacts I’m currently wearing.”
The pirate man falters for a moment your gaze soft yet intense as you look up at him. “I see. What would you rather be doing then?”
You smile, “My favourite parts are the jousting tournaments and the petting zoo. Also spending loads on trinkets.”
The man nods, about to say something in reply when a pair of pirates, one lanky with black hair and one burly rush up to him.
“Remus you can’t just wander off! We’ve been looking for you for ages.”
You laugh at the way the pirate man, Remus, flushes. Pink looks good on him.
He looks back and smiles at you and it’s even more handsome the second time; especially when it seems intimate and shared just between the two of you.
“I was here getting something to drink with the pretty nymph.” He gestures to you and you give his friends a wave and introduce yourself.
Remus tucks away the sound of your name in every nook in his mind. It suits you entirely.
The black haired one smirks and the burly one gives you a dimpled smile hello.
“How chivalrous, did he bore you to death with the fact that he’s about to be jousting and the historical reasons behind it?” The lanky one asked, clearly teasing his friend.
“No he did not, but now I’m even more excited to look at the tournament.” There’s a wicked grin on the black haired boy’s face.
Remus turns to you, “Does that mean you’ll toss me a ring of flowers?” He’s a flirt in all the ways, and by god you’d probably pass away if he looks at you any more intensely.
“Maybe I will, Remus.” You leave then, giving him a wave and a smile as you walk off towards the tents that sell all the odds and ends.
The black haired man turns to him, “You better hope you win, Moony. How embarrassing would it be if you let the pretty girl down.”
Remus rolls his shoulders back as he drains his beer, no pressure then, he thinks to himself. Maybe he’ll even get your number if he wins.
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