#I hope it's just as delicious a hurt as this
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phoenixiancrystallist · 2 years ago
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You know what hurts? When Frey was trapped in Olas's illusion, and Olas was all like "lol, jump bitch, no one will care." Cuff's immediate, zero hesitation, Olas wasn't even fucking done talking yet reaction was to tell Frey "I care. Don't listen to her, I care, and I'm with you."
And then, in the final battle: "I never lied to you. Not once."
Ffffffffffffffuck man, that did sharp stabby things to my kokoro. It's illegal to hurt me like that, game.
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yashley · 1 year ago
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"Yeah, but we talked about it and I didn’t want it." "Why not?" "Because it scared me."
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iknowwhereyousleepatnight · 6 months ago
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people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it
#i wish i could do worse. i wish i could go through and ruin everything i ended up giving them (all against my wishes) and i wish#i could ruin everything they love because god do i hate them and i will laugh when they finally fucking die#i have no idea why everyone glosses over all the shit this person has done to us and all the pain they’ve caused and i can’t fathom why#everyone wants to make them happy and why they’re willing to beg and bribe for me (and one other person who also hates them) to#give in but it is amusing and i hope they all fucking cry about it like oh nooo did poor [REDACTED] not get something they will never#get another chance to have ? oh well that sucks so bad for them i’m oh so sorry i caused that i can’t believe i managed to ruin their#chances for this how awful that this person i hate who has done and gotten away with so many horrible things didn’t get their perfect#little fantasy how sad we should all comfort them and call me a bitch who has no respect for anyone#god sometimes i wish i gave into violence more in the past bc i wish i got to fucking beat their ass up back when it would be self-defense#unforch i will never get to now. SAD!#i suppose i have murder fantasies and the thought of being able to ruin their funeral to soothe my soul#and the knowledge that i could make them fucking hurt by refusing to cooperate w them#and ough every time an opportunity presents itself for me to fucking take back what they took from me arises i have to fight myself#on it bc everyone will know it was me. i don’t even want what they have i just want them to know they will never get it back and#god it would upset them so much but they never should have had it in the first place ough if i get the chance before i ditch everyone here#for good i’d want to take it and stick around just long enough to hear how much they’ll cry about it before i fuck off#unforch i would need to know where all of their copies of things are but fuck i hate knowing they’ve taken so much from me bc i didn’t#get a fucking choice and they think they have to right to keep it all bc oh it makes them so happy they love having it they’re so fucking#afraid of losing it but it’d be so easy and i doubt they’d even notice for a while and i genuinely could disguise it as a mistake something#got misplaced some files corrupted etc etc but whatever this is fantasy a sweet little daydream of mine my second fantasy involving#them has smth to do with setting their house on fire and my third fantasy is desecrating their grave when the time comes#okay i’m done w this lalalalalala *skips off into the distance* i think revenge is not productive but god is it delicious to think about
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stormyoceans · 10 months ago
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thinking about pirate captain sea and surgeon jimmy like
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#like sea as a fearsome pirate captain whose ship gets attacked either by another pirate crew or by the navy#they manage to win but they suffer great losses#one of which is their surgeon#and since many people on his crew ended up injured sea decides to take on a passenger ship hoping to find a doctor#or at least a medicine chest#he gets lucky and does indeed find a doctor (jimmy of course)#and like i don't have a clear plot in mind but the dynamic would be so delicious#sea kidnapping jimmy and being ready to bribe him with a share of their plunder to convince him to help his crew#but jimmy is a doctor through and through and he would never let someone die without at least trying to help them#even if that someone is a pirate#on the other hand jimmy believing that pirates are heartless but then witnessing sea being ready to do anything to save his crew#even following jimmy's orders as sea helped him with each man#and after a while jimmy notices that sea is favoring his left side and having a hard time breathing#so he realizes that sea got hurt as well but didn't say anything because for him his crew comes first#and as jimmy patches him up sea does end up offering him a share of the loot for his services but jimmy refuses because that would make him#and sea laughs because saving a pirate's life would already be enough for the world to consider jimmy a pirate himself#so sea just promises him to let him go as soon as they get to shore#and suddenly jimmy finds himself in a weird position because the crew respects him and treats him well#and it's hard to remember these men are supposed to be violent and cruel when they're just laughing and helping each other's out#WHY DID GMMTV GIVE ME A PIRATE CONCEPT NOW IM OBSESSED#m: txt
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byanyan · 10 months ago
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byan "i thought being a vampire would be sick as fuck but instead it's turned my life upside down, caused me to lose the few safety nets i actually had, and somehow given me less freedom where i thought it'd give me more" byun
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mortifying-macaroni · 6 months ago
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Name a more powerful gang bang than me and the amount of WIPs that are stuffing themselves into my schedule and pounding away my time to study. I'll wait
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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(Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️)
Your marriage to Duke Price is one out of necessity: you need a husband before high society begins rumoring you to be a barren woman and too old to be married off, and Duke Price needs a wife who is able to take on Duchess duties of his duchies.
You do not expect love, though you suppose it’d be a nice bonus. You are merely glad that Duke Price is a reasonable handsome man, and he informs you on your wedding night that he will not force himself on you, and there is no need to immediately begin attemtping for an heir.
You take admirably to your new duties, have been raised practically for this purpose though the head butler Kyle is wonderful in helping you as well- actually all the servants have been wonderful towards you. You have regular dinners with John, though they are a bit stilted but at least Chef Johnny’s food is good enough you can easily forget the tense atmosphere. You can tell your husband is hiding something- you are sometimes barred from going to his office to him, certain rooms are not allowed for you, and you are not allowed anywhere near the letters addressed to him- but as long as it isn’t hurting you, why should you bother him? So you never ask, and he seems happy enough that you don’t.
Until you accidentally stumble upon him and Duke Riley exchanging tongues. Very heatedly, hands grasping and tugging on each other’s clothes and Duke Riley sat on your husband’s desk.
It’s hot.
What’s not so hot is the way they both look at you when they realize you are there. You stutter, face a red so fierce it’d put a furnace to shame, and bolt out of the room despite hearing John call your name.
And you also skip out on the dinners for now, pretending you are sick with the help of your maids and their makeup skills.
But suddenly, it’s like your eyes have been opened. It’s not just Duke Riley who seems to hold a part of your husband’s heart; the one time you gather enough courage to maybe go speak with John and address the situation, you see Kyle stumbling out all disheveled and flushed, though he has a very satisfied air around him. He freezes when he sees you, and your jaw drops.
“My lady-“
“I- I’ll just- I’m taking a walk! Alone!”
You go to the kitchens instead, hoping that Johnny would have something delicious you can eat. Maybe something cold enough to wash away the blush on your cheeks.
Johnny is weirdly silent, however, even as he whips up chocolate mousse for you. His silence is not normal, it feels… almost guilty…
You sighs, take in a deep breath, and gather your dress. “Johnny… are you too…-?”
“Aye, m’lady. But-“
You can’t take it anymore. You leave the kitchens, and go straight back to your bedroom to bury your face in your bed. It’s not as if you are upset! It’s just- a rather befuddling situation?
Two nights later, it’s John himself who comes to you. You had assumed it was one of your maids returning with a new jar of oil for your nightly hair routine, but it’s your husband. You are glad it’s winter, and you aren’t simply in a thin nightgown.
“Wife.” He says, voice steady yet strained.
“John.”
You can’t call him husband. You’ve spent the last two days thinking and you were… rather sad. You were in the way of whatever they had (you saw Kyle and Johnny kissing, Johnny specifically sending food addressed to Duke Riley), weren’t you?
John sighs, sitting down on the settee while you remain on your vanity. After a moment of awkward silence, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “…what do you want to remain silent about this?”
You blink, raising an eyebrow. “…huh?”
John’s fists clench. “How much do you want in return for your silence?”
Frowning, you set your brush down and fully turn to him even if you feel exposed despite your thicker nightgown. “Is this about your… partners?” You say the word delicately, then shake your head. “I want nothing, John. If you are worried about me starting anything, I won’t. I just… hope this doesn’t mean you will divorce me?”
Being a divorced woman might as well be a death sentence on its own.
He looks at you, shocked into silence, and you quickly explain; his relationships have nothing to do with you and you aren’t a petty woman, who are you to come between what he and they have? You only hope this won’t take away the protection this marriage gave you.
That night, thus, you and John reach an agreement you are sure both of you are satisfied with.
Except, months later, John is no longer satisfied.
With the ice broken between the two of you. The dinners have become so much more… relaxing and comfortable, far less than they had been. No secrecy was needed when you were around anymore, and you only giggle and look away, feigning innocence when they share tender kisses between one another… and the less polite kisses.
John can’t remain satisfied with this arrangement. You are such a sweet thing, now that he’s become to know you far better. He can see the way his men are looking at you now, something between fondness and hunger and want; Kyle helps you far more often now, despite your insistence that you can do it yourself. Even when you do it yourself, he stays by you and ensures you are comfortable.
And he joins your evening walks, arms looped as the two of you speak, laughing and giggling.
It’s similar to your late night chats with Johnny, where he plies your full of sweets and desserts until even your dreams are full of sweeter kisses you are sure will never be for you. Johnny, who cooks your favorites on hard days and who you heard from Kyle is even more serious about only having the best of the best in vegetables and meats and seasonings.
And Duke Riley… for all his stoicism, he is gentle with you. Even when he’d stared at you with doubt and mistrust, no doubt believing you to be lying to John and simply waiting for the shoe to drop and for you to ruin them. Yet it never happens, and now, during the galas you attend all dolled up on John’s arm and ignoring all murmurs about still having no children, you even dance with him and giggle at his terribly dry jokes, even share a few of your own with him.
Steadily, slowly, obliviously, John has watched each of his men fall for you. This, obviously, made you theirs. It made you his, more and more than you already were.
It’s why your current request is making him clench his glass in his hand, with Kyle looking on in displeasure as well, giving him subtle glances.
“-So that’s why I was asking, John,” you remain sweetly oblivious, adorned in a pretty dress Simon had gotten for you recently. “He will not spread any rumors, I’ll personally make sure of that-”
Your cheeks darken then, and you glance away. “I- I am… merely a bit- unsatisfied, if you understand my point. And the stable man is loyal to you, he wouldn’t say anything.”
It’s clear he needs to keep a better watch over you. Where and when did you even interact with his stable boy, Graves? Though he focused on your words.
Unsatisfied.
Well, he can’t have that, can he? You’ve done your wifely duties so admirably, it’s about time he took care of you as well… and maybe dealt with the baseless barren rumors as well. A baby would keep you nice and content and focused on them alone, wouldn’t it?
Oh yes. Yes, it would.
dukedom au masterlist
Part two
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neverendingford · 1 year ago
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#tag talk#cons of getting better emotionally. I have to find new music because I can't stand the sad depressed music I usually listen to#listening to autoheart and absolutely not vibing anymore because I'm like hmmmm not me though I'm better than that#I still like a lot of Mumford and Sons though. I doubt that will change since it's delicious religious trauma vibes#but maybe that will change some day too. time will tell.#every day I'm alive I can look forward to changing in fundamental ways I once thought immutable facets of my existence.#and that's fucking sick as hell. things get better and I heal bone deep.#scars don't just skin over. the flesh underneath fills in and stops throbbing.#the suicide scars on my arm healed over within a month but it took six for the flesh underneath to really heal fully.#took months for it to stop hurting when I bumped it wrong.#months before my elbows stopped twinging when I bent them too far.#but they've healed through and through and I live on and I get better and I can do so much more now#I expected to feel like shit in January since historically that's my most depression-filled time of year that I just have to survive#but I genuinely feel so good right now I'm so fucking ecstatic.#things get better. I knew that when I was seventeen and I didn't want to put in the work to make it through.#but good or bad I've made it through and it's so fucking beautiful on the other side.#obviously my perspective will change and develop and grow in the next few months. and we'll see how I feel next January#but I have such high hopes right now
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slightly-knot-insane · 4 months ago
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Chained
He's been hungry for too long, starving for your touch and smell and taste. But he can't have you - not today. He is too wild and uncontrollable. He could hurt you so badly from the sheer force of his need. The rut is boiling his blood. That's why he's chained.
"Stay away!" His breath is hoarse. "Stay... away."
But it's so hard to look at him like this. He is drooling and panting, and you can see his cock throbbing. He is slowly transforming and his knot is red and heavy, glistening from sweat.
You know how dangerous he is. He could rip you with those claws and long fingers as if you're a paper tissue. His body is huge, warm, pulsating. You lick your lips feeling your core getting moist. You rub your thighs.
His eyes bulge. "Are you..." He can smell you. He can smell your arousal and your adrenaline heating up your body. "Are you insane?"
"Calm down. You will stay tied down. I will just... help you let off steam."
You kneel in front of him, push his thighs apart to admire his big throbbing cock with ease. It's almost purple, ready to explode, moist from precum. The veins that decorate the shaft are pulsating from hot blood rushing through them. It looks so... delicious. And the knot at the base... It's so big and firm and smooth.
You take it in your hand and hungrily look upward. His mouth is open, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes lustful and hopeful. He wants to say something, but he can't. He just stares at you, at your mouth.
You kiss his knot, gently, rubbing your lips against his cock's skin, not breaking eye contact. He swallows hard and carefully watches as you plant pecks along his shaft to his glans. Once you lick his tip, the chains rattle from his arms trying to move, and he grunts. "Nnnng... this is not... helping."
You giggle. Poor guy. Well, he deserves a little treat. You open your mouth and take his whole glans into it. It's so big that you almost can't breathe. But you've been practicing. He sighs a deep sigh, lifting his head upwards with eyes closed, enjoying your touch. His teeth are getting sharper and longer. They are so beautiful, you think to yourself.
You push your hand down your panties and into your wetness, thoroughly dampening each and every finger. You lift your hand up, offering your lewdness. He immediately snaps his head downward, his nostrils wide, chains shaking and ringing, and slurps your fingers into his mouth. You both moan, tasting each others arousals.
He licks your fingers like they are popsicles, collecting every drop of your juices and groans as you start sucking his glans, jacking him off with your other hand. He's too big for you to put him completely down your throat. You need practice - a lot more practice - to swallow his cock entirely. But, for now, this will do. And he's not complaining.
As you pump him, now with both hands, and suck him off, his chains shake, moving in rhythm with bobbing of your head like an instrument. He growls, moans and pants, and you know he won't last long. With a howl, he orgasms into your mouth and you let some of his seed down your throat, but you let the rest spray you, covering your face, neck and chest with thick cum.
He jerks his hips once, twice, and as soon as he empties his balls all over your skin, he looks at you.
"Oh my." He smiles, breathless. "You did such a good job."
"Did I?" You beam licking his seed off your upper lip.
"Mmhm... But guess what?" His grin becomes even wider. Alarmingly so. "My chains broke."
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akai-anna · 11 months ago
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*clears throat* You might have already encountered some of these, but I wanted to share in case, you haven't for some reason.
Anything written by hollyandvice: stumbled on the author on one of my craving hunts, and I adore their style. Mostly HeiShin focused works, but I utterly adore this one fic from Kazuha's point of view too. (I always crave good Kazuha content, especially relating to one Kudou Shinichi.) You can find their AO3 here.
An author duo that I love and adore, and this fic in particular. (Since you mentioned AngelicSentiel, you might know this fic?)
Another favourite author of mine. This fic is more GEN than anything, but all character interactions in this are so charming, and it's one my my ultimate fav fics in the fandom. (Big shoutout to one amazing Suzuki Sonoko, I love her so much, and love it when she's appreciated.) Also Hattori Heiji teasing Kudou Shinichi about getting him light up shoes? Count me in.
Another fic I found on one of my craving hunts, which I loved a lot. (I'm weak for the soulmate trope, I admit.)
This is another GEN fic, which has Ekoda Gang too, which I loved a lot. Personally I loved how it went in an unexpected direction. (Shinichi blocking Akako's magic by accident? Count me in. Weird but very fun.)
Another GEN fic, and while there isn't many interactions between Shinichi and Heiji in this, I love how Heiji is still so fixated on Shinichi. Also the Hakuba-Heiji-Kaito team up in this sends me.
These are the ones I can remember, but I'll check my AO3 history later because I have the feeling there are more I would like to rec (but cannot find them right now).
Heishin fic recs
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Not quite a rec and more to me succumbing to an urge to draw fanart for the one that inspires me. Been reading fics for a long time and i figured i should do something to celebrates the authors ^_^ <3 take this as a love letter for the heishin writers community.
please check them out and if you do please leave nice comments and kudos for me
total of 5 fic fanarts under the cut:
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Closet confession by FightTheHorn (1.3k | rated T)
Short and sweet. Heiji gets locked up with Shinichi in a closet and Heiji uses the opportunity to confess he likes to be tied up. Heiji is super open and honest here.... lowkey wish author wrote a sequel for this
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A Matter of Deduction by calysto1395 (10.8k | rated G)
Heishin amnesia trope, this sentence alone should be a hook line sinker. Domestic yet angsty. I love when fics let you live in one of the detectives mind and see how their deduction brain work <3 This is a no brainer but I'm crazy about any of calysto's heishin future aus
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I would do anything for you, even sacrifice myself by just_yeole_cryptid ( 1.7k | no archive warning )
Murder boyfriends. Heiji kills and Shinichi covers for him. This fic got me so bad I'm in desperate need more of this concept. Two people with an unbeatable moral compass, breaking their ideals for each other's sake.... peak romance
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Eyes on Me by NightFoliage ( 3.6k | rated T )
Detectives goes undercover in a fun disguise, my favourite trope ^_^ Heishin goes undercover in an idol audition, with a dash of outside perspective. Whipped Shinichi who is very generous with complimenting Heiji in his head :)c
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boys will be boys by AngelicSentinel (1.2k | rated T)
Follow Shinichi's thought process before he succumbs to a sudden impulse. Capture heishin's playful boyish charm :')
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a-b-riddle · 9 months ago
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago
Text
I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
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thargelalia · 2 months ago
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Comrade Red Hood
jason todd x fem!reader
patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support
-> 3k words
-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive
-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him
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“Are you upset?” 
“Yes.” 
“…is it something I did?” 
“Not everything’s about you.”
Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”
“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”
Silence.
“Sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 
“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”
“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 
Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.
Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.
Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 
Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 
At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 
A five hour nap. Nice. 
Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.
Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 
The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.
“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 
He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”
You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 
His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 
There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 
No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.
Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.
As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.
“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”
You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 
Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 
Isn’t that so cute? 
After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.
“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 
You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.
“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“
You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”
“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”
“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”
You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.
“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 
“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 
As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 
“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”
“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 
“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 
“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 
Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”
“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.
Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 
Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 
Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 
Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 
Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 
There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 
“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 
“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”
He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 
Devious bastard.
Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 
“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 
Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 
But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 
Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 
And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.
There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 
One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 
Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 
“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.
At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.
First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 
You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.
This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 
Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 
Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”
You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.
“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 
While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 
“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.
“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”
“Jason.”
“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”
“Jason.” 
He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.
“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”
You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”
“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”
“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.
“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 
“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 
“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 
He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.
“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 
“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”
“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 
Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 
“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.
“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 
“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”
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thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33
feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!
this is where i got the dividers
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scrawnyghstts · 4 months ago
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chewin on this like a dog on a bone I'm sorry this could SO goes both ways
op asked to go town on this I might as well,,, but this is just my ramblings and how I personally interpret this
2 angsty coalecroux hcs on how they'd betray eachother. and one fluffy one that's the opposite because I'm sorry for the angst
my immediate thought was Gideon though, I think maybe because Kremy is so focused and careful about his reputation, the angst of ruining it is writing itself... it upsets me because I see Gideon as a deeply loyal person to his closest friends so I'm not sure about this scenario UNLESS we consider Gid got hexed maybe? or schemed into some other contract against Kremy,,, also the spilling guts part, I know it's Agwé the lavish, sinful town, but I'm thinking in terms of ancient greece y know or is that silly, like "it's only bad if you're a bottom", because I don't think people would care much about being lied to, that's expected, but if Gideon starts digging up the flith and details, as he watches Kremy scrambling to hold his image together, trying to keep a good face while he likely openly and publicly humiliates and betrays him-- nope i cant ouch
if we take it as Kremy's pov it pains me even more, the idea of giving Gid so much warmth and love just to strip him of it completely and humialte him, like the ptsd that'd surely trigger-- I don't even want to analyse this now 😭 also with how Kremy is, if we're assuming this as angst and that he's going against Gideon, I'm sure he wouldn't just spill his guts, there'd be lies and gossip, to the point of driving Gid off the streets, lynching him with whispers and strange looks so that he's all alone again and everyone turned against him and--... i'm not doing this anymore
the third, and my favourite, perspective I have on this is just total fluff with the last lyrics not referring to the previous verse but to the anxiety of trusting someone you love with the deepest most intimate parts of you; more like looping it back to the beginning, and it's again Gideon speaking to Kremy but this time reassuring him, that even though he knows everything about Krem, including all he could say to ruin his image and status, he won't do that because he loves him; I think this goes both ways too, it's them helping and teaching eachother that's it's okay to let go and trust someone completely, that neither of them is in danger now, they can rest, let the other take their worries away
This gives me coalecroux vibes tbh
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i-love-ptv · 3 months ago
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Busted and Blue 。𖦹 ⋆。
Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader
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It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..
Wc: 3,727
Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz
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An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚
Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)
Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33
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“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.
Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”
You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.
Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.
“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.
But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.
“Wait!”
“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.
Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.
You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”
You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.
“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”
You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.
“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”
Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.
He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.
And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.
Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.
But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.
Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.
Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.
With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.
You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.
But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.
Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.
And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!
You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.
You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.
“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.
You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.
Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.
“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”
He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.
After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.
You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.
You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.
Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.
“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”
They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.
Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.
“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.
“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.
“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.
You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.
You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.
There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.
“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.
After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.
You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.
It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.
There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.
He wants to protect you, he needs to.
It’s his job as your boyfriend.
Your future husband.
Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.
But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.
He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.
“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”
Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.
He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.
He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.
…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.
That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.
The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.
But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.
Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.
They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.
He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.
It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.
“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.
Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.
And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.
Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.
Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.
“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.
Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”
“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”
“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.
But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.
When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.
It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.
“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.
“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.
Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.
Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.
So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.
“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.
You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.
You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.
“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”
You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.
“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.
You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.
“Dollie? You up here babe?”
You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.
….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.
“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“
The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.
You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.
Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.
“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.
Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.
“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”
When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.
You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.
Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.
He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.
“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”
Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.
“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”
Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.
“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”
There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.
It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.
“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.
“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.
His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.
Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.
He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.
Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.
“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”
Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.
“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.
And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.
Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”
Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”
Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.
But he hesitates to knock.
He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:
First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.
Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.
Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.
Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.
You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.
Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.
His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.
He knocks at the door.
•······················•
There’s a knock at the door.
A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.
You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.
You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.
“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.
“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.
“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.
You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.
You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.
You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”
Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.
Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.
The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.
The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.
He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.
Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.
You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.
This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.
Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.
It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.
“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.
“..Do what?”
“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.
Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back
There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.
You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.
Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.
You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.
You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.
While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.
“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.
Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”
You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”
“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.
After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.
While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.
Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.
He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.
Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.
That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.
- -
“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”
“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”
Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.
Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”
- -
If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.
As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.
Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.
Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.
If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.
Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.
He can’t help it. You make him whole.
He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.
Because you’re his love; his life.
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kaissatou · 4 days ago
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Namgyu hcs namgyu hcss, there's almost nothing about him😭😭😭 and I got such a love-hate relationship with this guy so it would be cool something like love-hate related? Maybe headcanons or whatever you like where namgyu and reader aren't even a couple but it's like a hot and cold thing, teasing each other all the time..? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT LMAOOO But yk yk, let your mind flow, it can be nsfw too, however you see fitting!
sorry if this isn’t quite what you wanted lovely, thank you for requesting ♡ afab!reader. not yet proofread!!
fwb!namgyu who never fails to get on your last nerve. He also never fails to milk your gooey little pussy dry. He isn’t your friend- he also isn’t your enemy, but he certainly isn’t your lover.
fwb!namgyu who (lightly) smacks the back of your head whenever he’s behind you purely to annoy you, and totally not to feel the softness of your hands on his chest as you push him away, muttering curses. He hopes you don’t seem to notice the hearts in his eyes, his soft irises suddenly enlarging. You don’t need to see his small grin as he walks off, either.
Constantly going back and forth with fwb!namgyu until he’s pushing you against the wall before you can clock it, his soft lips massaging your own in a sloppy spell, like he’s trying to claim you as his own. Fuck it. You slip a hand into his hair, tangling your fingers between loose strands with a delicious pull that has him- was that a moan? Fuck it. Once can’t hurt.
fwb!namgyu whose got you bent on your bed, back arching in a position that you didn’t know was even possible for you until now. Hips smacking into your own roughly, animalistic grunts filling your ears. A firm hand wrapped around your hair, the pulls adorning your whines as he caresses and cradles that messy sweet spot as he’s balls deep within you. Your face pressed onto the sheets, your overstimulated tears rolling onto the pillow.
It was never just once. After that fateful night it was practically impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Soft touches in the hallway and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, to more obvious things like a loud, breathy kiss the second you open the door and let him in, his limbs intertwining with your own.
fwb!namgyu who used to send you up? messages to you in the middle of the night (hinting that he’s down to fuck) before getting an ounce of dignity. Now, it’s can i come see u?
fwb!namgyu who knows he’s fucked when his mind can’t even imagine teasing you anymore. fwb!namgyu who stays up late at night with your pretty grin wngrained into his mind, the way your eyes curl as he makes you laugh. And then he’s imagining the way your lip curled into a small that one time, and he’s disgusted with himself that he ever let that pretty smile fade. He rolls over to emerge himself into the covers, in hopes of silencing thoughts of you.
fwb!namgyu whose heart drops when you phone him in the middle of one night, the crackle of your shitty network not failing to hide the heart wrenching sobs of yours that had his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his hands itching uncontrollably.
And instantly he’s driving to you before he can stop it, before you can say anything else, his hands gripping the wheel oh so tight, but he can’t even feel it, he can’t even think of anything but you. He’s never done this for a girl before. He’s never done this for you. fwb!namgyu, who’s pretty brown eyes are filled with worry as you let him in, instantly engulfing your sorrow filled frame in a tight embrace.
fwb!namgyu whose heart lets you cry in his arms and whispers pretty words of reassurance to you, a different Namgyu that you knew. A Namgyu that you could grow to…love?
fwb!namgyu who doesn’t seem to annoy you anymore. The same Namgyu whose presence you learn to yearn for. fwb!namgyu who never fails to provide you with flowers whenever he visits. Namgyu who doesn’t visit only for sex anymore, but for movie nights, dinner dates, and things he once deemed before as all too romantic. fwb!namgyu who wants it all, with you.
boyfriend!namgyu whos fucking making love to you so delicately, so softly, so in love, so different from how it was before. boyfriend!namgyu whose got you in missionary, his hair tickling against your neck, his face coming down to your neck, his pretty pink lips adorning your neck. So loving.
Boyfriend!namgyu whose making you take him deeeeep, peppering your face with kisses and shushing your whimpers and whines and moans with i know, I know, shh… His pretty cock filling you to the brim, like the puzzle peice you’ve being missing your whole life.
Boyfriend!namgyu who wakes you up with the smell of coffee and orange juice, your naked body cascaded and hidden like a prize under the soft silk of your duvet, a fullfilled smile hanging lazily on your lips, and the remnant of his kisses. He’ll just have to replace those memories with new ones.
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