#I loved this look but couldn’t find any pictures until now
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Harnaaz Sandhu in her last appearance as Miss Universe.
Lehenga by Rimple & Harpreet
#I loved this look but couldn’t find any pictures until now#technically she wore another dress for the very end of the ceremony but whatever#harnaaz sandhu#pageant#miss universe
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
#ftm#ftx#genderqueer#transgender#lgbtqiaplus#lgbtqia#queer#trans#trans man#transmasc#trans masculinity#transmasculine#queer masculinty#trans men#trans writing#trans writers#trans pride#transblr#queer writers#queer artist#queer community#queer pride#lgbtq#non binary#genderfluid#lgbtq community#enby#enby pride#trans nonbinary#gor3sigil.txt
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NSFW
So hybrid bulls and cows are actually separate species in MY fantasy world, not male and female.
So you work on a farm specializing in male cows and bulls, the only woman that’s allowed there due to… how the hybrids behave around any females.
You milk them… but not in the normal way. As the only woman on the farm, you’re the only one they’ll allow to milk their cocks. They produce a special semen that’s a milk alternative, and very yummy!
The cow’s are fine enough, following you around and nuzzling into you, wanting cuddles and extra attention when you’re milking them… they behave so well, blushing and mooing softly, gently moving their hips against your hand as you milk their cocks dry.
The bulls however… are a different story. They’re very territorial and protective over the cow hybrids, who they’ve formed a friendship with. They don’t like most people, and tend to be loners that only come around when it’s milking time.
But your pay is upgraded when the farm owners notice that the bulls have started warming up to you, even starting to treat you like a heifer, keeping you safe and guarding you from the other employees.
It wasn’t a surprise to anyone but you when the bulls started being a bit… too handsy with you. They viewed you as a heifer now… but you were so small compared to any female cow they’d ever seen. A runt, stunted, maybe…
But you had that chubby tummy and plush hips, those plump breasts that would look so pretty full of milk…
Within a month of starting work, you find yourself being bent over by one of the bulls, the cows mooing in distress and trying to comfort you as a fat cock enters your cunt.
“D-don’t be rough with her! She’s little!” one of the cows protests, stroking your hair and cooing softly to you. The bull huffs, hot air hitting the back of your neck as he fucks into you.
“Being as gentle as possible… little thing, couldn’t take me being rough even if I wanted to be…”
Your cunt was stuffed full with cum, several bulls mounting you until you were a blubbering mess. Once the bulls were done, you were surrounded by cows, getting kisses and snuggles… but they wanted to mate as well…
They pressed down on your belly, cum pooling between your legs as they cooed and gently fucked their own seed into you. By the end of the work day, you were spent, curled up in the hay with several cow hybrids as the bulls guarded the door.
You were payed handsomely for your efforts, and offered an even bigger paycheck to let them mount you at least once a week to let out their sexual frustrations.
They became more territorial around you, but when you weren’t in the picture, the bulls were much calmer and didn’t attack anyone that brought out food or came to give them check ups.
And when you became pregnant… well… let’s just say you were tucked away in the barn, living there with the cows and bulls as your belly grew heavy and swollen.
The cows tended to you, making sure you received all the human comforts you wanted along with their endless affections, and the bulls kept you safe.
———————
A/N: omg… ask me more about this concept because… I’m in love
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @chubbumblebee @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden
#cow hybrid#bull hybrid#hybrid smut#hybrid x reader#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#monster imagine#monster boy oc#monster smut#teraphilia#terat0philliac#terato#exophelia#x reader smut#fem!reader#plus size reader#afab reader#cw breeding#cw pregnancy#tw pregnancy
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Shy!reader and post prison Spence - the first time he calls her a pet name? I love that your Spencers always use “honey” or “dove” or “love” and we know she’d be a mess.
P.S. completely agree with how much I love the gentleness of your characters. The way you write Spencer in love is literally my favorite
ty for requesting <3 fem
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
Spencer holds a hanging strap. You hold your own, core tense with the movement of the train. “I think I would’ve mentioned it before you got on the train if it weren’t.”
You nod, glancing around the traincar at the other passengers. There's a stout lady wearing a large fluffy sweater, turquoise with two white kittens at her chest nuzzling one another in knit. A man with three bags of groceries sits just beside her. Further down, a teenage girl listens to music through leaking headphones, her phone reflecting blue light on her cheeks.
“But are you sure I won’t be an imposition?”
“You aren’t usually. I guess we won’t know until we get there.”
“Maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.”
“Y/N, I’m kidding. You’re not an imposition, it won’t be a problem. There’s enough room at my apartment for you to stay however long you want. Between all the books, that is.”
It’s just not something you pictured asking him for. Your kitchen flooded in your apartment and the landlord had to put you up in a hotel until he could get someone in to make sure the stove wasn’t about to explode or catch light. But the idea of a hotel is rough torture —somewhere unfamiliar, living out of a suitcase, surrounded by people you don’t know without a door that locks properly. Spencer caught you sweating over it at your desk, pulling the story from you in reluctant drags with a hand on your shoulder.
It’ll be okay, he said, you can just stay with me.
Which is relieving and somehow a new can of worms to deal with. At least at a hotel there was no chance of seeing Spencer in a towel. Spencer seeing you in a towel, in your pyjamas, without your formal office protections.
The worst part is the excitement.
Terrified he’ll see it on your face, you stare at your shoes next to his. Spencer… Everyone told you he was a dork. When you joined the team in his absence, not once did you get the impression that the man who’d be coming back was like this. You feel like he’d been infantilised. Which isn’t to say he isn’t a dork, he is, he tells you the strangest things, facts or statistics to accompany each topic of the day, and he has all the manners and chivalry of someone who knows what it’s like to be as painfully shy as you are. But he isn’t shy.
Autistic, he’d confided once. Probably. I’m better at dealing with it now.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Nervous.”
“I know.” He grasps your arm as the train screeches on tracks, turning a tight bend. You’re grateful, but immediately flushed with heat.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You couldn’t. I think I know you too well already.”
“You’ve known me for less time than the rest of the team, but you were the first person to offer me a place to stay.” You clench the rickety handle of your suitcase. “Thank you.”
“That’s okay, angel.” He says it simply and softly, like you really are an angel. Something breathless to wait with.
Angel, you think, heart skipping a beat, pulse slow and then suddenly ramped.
His arm slips behind your back. “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel if it’s going to scare you. Besides, it’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.” He laughs. And you, despite your flush, heat sinking across your chest like a bruise, manage to laugh back. “I’ve never had one before.”
“What?”
“Never had a sleepover. I didn’t have any friends in school, and I haven’t had a girlfriend stay the night before.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, expecting a retraction. Not that you’re my girlfriend, not that you’re anything like that at all.
He smiles at you. “Should we get takeout?”
“What were you thinking?”
“There’s an Indian restaurant between the station and my apartment? We can stop in. Or we can order something to come. Or I can cook, if you want home cooked.”
“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to cook–”
His lips turn to a quizzical pout. “I don’t mind.”
You want him to call you angel again. You want him to take you home, make you dinner, and you want to sleepover. Like a girlfriend, you want to wake up in his bed.
“Sorry,” you breathe, “I think I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure?” You nod. “Alright. I was worried you didn’t like the pet name, but your pupils dilated when I said it–”
You can’t escape him. One hand in the hanging strap above, the over on your suitcase handle, you have no choice but to stand there with his arm around you to keep you from falling, face so hot with it that you’re sure you’d be feverish to the touch. “It’s fine,” you say, too afraid to look at his face that you end up staring at the nice shape of his throat, his black and purple tie. “Call me what you want. Um, I think we should get Indian.”
“Good choice, angel.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader
prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3
sunghoon was miserable.
it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.
he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.
at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.
he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.
but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself.
you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.
but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.
he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.
he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.
so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.
he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.
but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.
SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.
sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.
he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.
his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.
“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”
but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.
for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.
finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.
the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.
why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.
when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.
he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?
the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?
“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.
as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.
“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.
as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you.
the officer, however, pulled him back.
“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”
“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”
“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”
all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.
he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.
he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,
“sunghoon?!”
his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.
he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms.
you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,
“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”
suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.
that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.
you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”
the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.
you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.
“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."
"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."
sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”
after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,
“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”
after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.
he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.
“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”
you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.
his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.
but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.
he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.
“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.
you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”
“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.
“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”
“i quit my job.”
“excuse me?”
“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.
you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?
while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.
he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.
you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.
“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”
sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”
“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”
one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.
#sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon angst#park sunghoon#sunghoon fic#sunghoon angst to fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#angst with happy ending#my fic#hoon fic#hoon#enha imagines#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon imagines#enha scenarios#exes to lovers#angst with a happy ending#enha#i can never write true angst#so many tags and for what#feeling esp angsty bc they are at kcon la and i am not yay!#sunghoon fluff
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Whatever My Wife Wants
Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.
Word Count: 4.5K
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!
A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.
Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.
Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.
Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.
And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.
“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.
“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”
“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.
Mrs. Peña.
God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.
It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.
“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”
Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.
Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.
Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.
Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.
“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”
Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.
As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).
With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.
Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.
“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.
Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.
“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.
Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.
“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”
Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.
“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.
“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.
Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.
“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.
“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”
With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.
“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.
You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.
It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.
“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.
“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.
You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.
Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.
“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.
“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.
As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.
Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.
“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”
Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.
“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”
“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.
“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”
Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.
A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.
“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”
You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.
“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.
“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.
“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”
Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.
Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.
“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”
With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.
As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.
“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.
“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.
Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.
“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.
You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.
“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.
“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”
“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”
Taglist:
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more trailer park!rafe drabbles i beg
maybe something with crybaby!reader too, like he comes home from a long ass day and she’s crying over the silliest thing ever.
but of course he makes her feel better.
love ur writing smm !!
he knew he was in for it when he came home and she wasn’t waiting patiently for him. if he didn’t know any better, rafe would assume the quaint trailer was empty — but the call you shared earlier on his lunch break detailed your plans around the house for the day, so there was no fuckin’ reason for it be as quiet as it was.
his confusion turned to concern when he heard little sniffles and sobs coming from the bathroom. rafe dropped his keys in the bowl and hurried off further into the trailer, in search of his girl.
pushing the bathroom door open with a rough hand, his mind went to the worst places when he saw her crumpled up on the floor. instantly he scooped her up onto the counter. his voice was a flurry of sounds she couldn’t decipher through her tears. the warm cadence she’s become so familiar with instantly providing some relief.
“hey, hey, baby — look at me, you hurt?” his hands are moving fast, holding her cheeks and checking for any injuries to that beautiful face.
she could only shake her head, hiccuping and trying to speak between sobs.
“rafe— dad— daddy—“
he hums and looks over her body. blue eyes checking off a list of what’s ‘normal’. when he finds nothing bleeding or falling off — that intense gaze finds hers, urging her to calm down.
his voice cooed, low and rumbly in a way that always soothes her, “shh, dad’s here, what happened? hm? someone — someone do somethin’ t’you or—“
“muh — my nails!” she interrupted, voice a petulant mumble.
rafe froze, mouth agape and eyes blinking in confusion. he looked down and took her smaller hands in his. turning them over and feeling the smooth skin. no cuts, no bruises—
the fact that he didn’t immediately know what she was talking about sends her into another spiral. yanking her hands from his and covering her eyes as sobs shook her shoulders.
“okay, okay, can’t help if you’re cryin’. talk t’me— what about your nails, honey?”
she sniffs and thrusts them in his face, rafe now seeing something out of the ordinary — chipped baby blue polish.
“wanted— wanted to paint them f’you. ‘cuz— ‘cuz s’the same color as your eyes but forgot they weren’t dry yet so i tried to make dinner and— and i ruined them!”
everyday the universe was testing his patience.
a sharp sigh out of his nose and rafe let his head fall forward. relief and disbelief pooled in his chest. she was this worked up over nail polish?
a low grumble of her name ceased her tears until they were just little sniffles of sadness. any other person and rafe would’ve been out the door with a specific finger showing his annoyance. but this was his person, his precious girl, and if she was this worked up over nail polish — he was going to indulge her. he picked up his head, eyes tired from a long days work but soft in a way meant just for her. he spoke in that way that makes her all fuzzy for him.
“jesus christ, that’s— yeah, okay. baby, ‘m— ‘m sorry. y’just wanted t’do somethin’ sweet f’dad, yeah?”
hook, line, and sinker. reader huffed and nodded as she leaned forward into his chest. her little gasps punctuated his cooing. within minutes, she was putty in his arms, nuzzling closer and closer. rafe littered kisses over her hair, gently rocking her until her head lifted off his chest. wet cheeks and a red nose greeted him and he couldn’t stop the adoring coo from falling out as he wiped her face.
“thereee you are— my sweet girl… better now?”
she nodded at his words, almost hypnotized by the gentle tone of his voice. a little hiccup fell out when she caught sight of her messy nails, but rafe quickly shushed her.
“shh, no more cryin’. y’gotta be a big girl, a’ight? c’mon, whaddaya need?”
she wished she had a picture of this big man patiently painting and blowing on her nails — that matched his eyes.
#tp!reader#trailerpark!rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe obx#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine
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Surprise
Ghosting pt. 1
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.
Part 2 here
“kids?”
“What about them?”
“Would you ever want any?”
It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.
“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.
“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.
As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.
Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…
“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”
That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.
You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.
That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.
You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…
Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?
Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.
You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.
Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.
As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.
“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.
“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”
Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.
‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.
Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.
“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.
“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.
“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.
You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.
His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.
“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”
“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.
Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.
You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.
It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.
After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.
You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.
Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.
“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”
“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”
“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.
“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”
You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.
“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.
“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.
You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.
Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.
Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.
You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.
Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”
꧁——————————꧂
Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)
#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#cod mw2 ghost x reader#mw2 ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod mwii x reader#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#ghost cod
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do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx
'No location found'
pairing: peter parker x reader
a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!
warnings: none
masterlist, requests are open !!
“That’s not what I said!”
“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”
You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again.
You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him. The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.
“Y/N please-”
“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”
His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”
You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.
“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.
Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”
Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away.
“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion.
“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged.
'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”
“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.
He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad.
“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”
You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”
There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.
You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.
After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch.
Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.
I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it.
You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-
You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved.
You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.”
“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”
“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.
“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place.
“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her.
“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”
“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”
You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight.
You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already.
You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything.
“Peter! I need real criticism!”
“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”
You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book.
Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving.
He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though.
He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.
That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you.
He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together.
On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more.
He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter.
Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten.
He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge.
“Went out. Be home late.”
His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.
All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.
Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly.
He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe.
An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response.
It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird.
He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail.
What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.
This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-
He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay. He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start.
He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that.
“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away.
“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”
“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred.
“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay.
“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.
He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”
“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”
Peter let out a sigh of relief.
“Or, she was.” He held his breath again.
“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”
“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.
He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”
“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”
His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault.
“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated.
“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this.
He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.
There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you.
You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe.
You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit.
On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home.
Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away.
Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.
You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.
“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer.
Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”
“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”
“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little.
You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead.
“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”
“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face.
He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”
You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”
“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.
“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”
You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.
He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.
You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”
You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”
He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”
You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!”
“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again.
“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him.
“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging.
#peter parker#writing#tom holland#andrew garfield#marvel#fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker x you#peter x you#peter parker imagines#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker writing#avengers x reader#avengers#the avengers#tom holland!peter parker x reader#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter parker x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland angst#fanfiction#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader
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typing this laying in bed forcing myself to sleep but my brain wants to write so headcanon format it is.
thinking about ak!jason who has no idea that after his ‘death’ that you went insane looking for him. but you were no detective, you weren’t in the police field, you were just jason todd’s girlfriend.
but you damn well did everything you could, from begging bruce, to sneaking into offices, looking for nightwing, anything.
you taught yourself to use a gun to search places alone. jason would scold you for doing such a thing for him but you didn’t care, not when you knew he was alive.
you didn’t know.. but your gut feeling told you he was. a body was never found, nothing. you refused to believe it.
“you didn’t find anything? no pieces of his suit? no blood? nothing!?” you screamed and cried at batman, desperate, grieving.
“i’ve looked-“
“no! you didn’t! because if you did look everywhere you would’ve found something! all this technology and you still couldn’t track the location?”
“it’s not that simple.”
“right, because you aren’t the greatest detective in the world”
you tried to distract yourself with work but it was no use, not when you came home opening the spare bedroom door to your mess of a room. papers everywhere, maps, pictures, you would’ve seemed insane to any normal person.
you were exhausted, too many dreams of him in front of you but that’s all it was. dreams.
one night, you felt someone push your hair behind your ear. instantly, like jason taught you, you grabbed the knife under your pillow and went to slash at the intruder but the knife made a thud as it hit the floor.
a hand, gently, wraps around your wrist.
you blink your eyes awake, taking in the person in your home.
jason.
no. it’s another dream.
“you’ve gotta be quicker than that, sweetheart.”
you don’t speak, still taking in what’s going on. the light from the moon just barley shows his face.
“hey don’t cry baby, it’s okay.”
you back away, unable to take another hallucination.
“no.. this isn’t real. you can’t be here. i haven’t found you yet.”
“i’m right here, baby.”
shaking your head, you back into the corner of your bed, making yourself as small as you can.
“no, i have to find him. i have to find jason!”
“look at me, sweet girl.”
you can’t tear your face from your arms, so he softly pulls your face up with both hands, wiping your tears,
“i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere ever again.”
the closer he is, the more you notice the difference in his features.
the j on his face, the scars, but his eyes,
his sweet beautiful eyes still look at you with love.
“i’m so sorry.” you give in, real or not, you hug him.
he hates it, after everything he’s been through he can’t take the affection. but for you? for you he’d do anything.
so he lets you cry into him, squeezing him tight, even if he can’t be the jason you loved, he holds you all the same.
sobbing into his chest, “i tried so hard to find you”
“i know you did sweetheart, i saw the room. but it wasn’t your job to find me.”
“don’t say that, you’re the love of my life. i would rather die than stop looking.”
“you did good.”
“i didn’t. you still had to find me.”
“i’d climb out of my grave and crawl back home to you, i’ll always find you.”
“please don’t let this be a dream.”
“i’m right here.”
he holds you until the sun rises, rocking back and forth slightly. he’ll tell you about it all later, for now, he just wants you close.
edit: i will be making this into a fic later ;p
#ᝰ honeywrites#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#arkham knight#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight x you
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Best I Ever Had
Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k
Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!
A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)
masterlist | notifs blog
It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.
Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.
He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.
You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.
And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.
You are worth it.
Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”
And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.
“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.
He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”
“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.
“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.
You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.
“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.
Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.
The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.
And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.
“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.
“I said—”
He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.
“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.
Well, apparently not everyone.
You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.
You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.
The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.
Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.
You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.
You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.
The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music goin’ unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.
Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”
He scrambles without looking back.
“Oh my God, baby.”
“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”
“Just one more second, baby.”
“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.
“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”
“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.
A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.
“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.
Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.
You can do so much better than that.
“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.
Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.
Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.
“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”
All questions must be answered.
Fuck.
“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.
You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”
Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.
You quirk your eyebrow at him.
“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.
You’re silent for a beat. Then—
“You’re lying.”
Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.
Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.
You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.
“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”
Joel audibly gulps.
Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.
“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.
“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.
You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.
“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.
“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.
Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”
You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.
You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.
“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”
“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.
Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.
“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”
His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.
Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.
“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.
“Did I go too far?”
He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.
“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”
A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”
“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.
You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.
Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”
“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”
I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#one shot#fic#smut fic#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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Obsessive perverted Hyuck x reader//short/oneshot
WARNING: this contains obsessive behaviors, stealing, Somnophilia, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral sex, nipple play, and breeding. Please do not read if any of these thing trigger you, thank you so much. Minors DO NOT interact.
Sorry it’s short ☹︎ I low-key have writers block and its beating my asssss but I still wanna post, bc I missed all of October I'm using November to post anything spooky/dark so bare with me PLEASE! Also, I will be posting asks soon so if you've sent any then please look forward☺︎
wc: n/a
Hyuck being so overly touchy with you when he isn’t glued to his phone, sniffing you and asking if he can have your underwear. Its no wonder how you came to find out that he was obsessed with you.
Of course if you said yes, you knew what he would do with them and didn’t care. Just like you expected he takes them home and cums into them—using them as a rag from that point on. It didn’t take long for those to become completely ruined, immediately after he asked for another pair, but when you said no he just snuck into your room and stole a pair; the prettiest, softest pair he could find.
Even stealing one of your bras and a bottle of perfume so he can smell you when he jerks off. He becomes such a pervert that your perfume, underwear, and bras just aren’t enough. So he started taking pictures of you for him to jerk off to, asking if he can record when you give him head.
You knew he used them to jerk off. But you couldn’t imagine how far he was going, playing the videos while he humps the pillow he put your bra and underwear on, after spraying the room with your perfume. Staring at his wall that is decorated with the nudes you sent. Along with pictures that are more wholesome—like ones of you smiling, your outfit, date nights, and even pictures of you sleeping.
The wall became more of a shrine as time passed, he even tapped a loc of your hair—after collection a bunch of tiny strains; to the wall with underwear, napkins you’ve used to wipe away your lip gloss, and even pairs of your discarded lashes—now covered in his cum.
Eventually though, he had to move it to his unused guest room because you decide to go to his place for a change. And he hid it thinking that you haven’t noticed all of your missing things—of course you noticed. His secret obsession was never as secret as he thought, but poor, sick hyuck just can’t get caught being the sicko he truly is.
But he also can’t stop, which leads him to groping you as you lay beside him sleeping. Slipping his hand underneath your loose top and brushing his fingers over your harden nipple, trying his hardest to breath quietly as to not wake you up.
Eventually, he moves on to something more risky when you remain in your sleeping state and decides to push your shirt up so he can see your boobs. He quickly goes from just touching them to kissing them, sucking your nipples and only stopping when you begin to stir in your sleep.
His lack of self control might be the blame for the way he carefully slides your underwear off, practically moaning when he notices how wet you are. He can’t help but stop to sniff your underwear, wrapping them around his cock as he jerks off over your body.
He never imagined he’d do something so deprived and desperate, but he loves you so much and thinks you’re just too pretty.
It’s not until he sees you move again that he realizes what he’s doing. Feeling ashamed he starts to try putting your underwear back on him, but as he’s pushing them up your calf’s you stop him. Not revealing that you’d been awake the whole time, only asking him what he was doing.
In his humiliated state he tries to string together some sort of lie, anything to dig himself out of the hole he’s in—but he can’t, and he doesn’t have to. Instead of shaming him like he expected, you tell him to continue; making him eat you out while he desperately grinds against the bed.
He’s so in love with eating you out that he doesn’t even stop when you finish. Continuing to please your body to the point of overstimulation as he gets high on the sounds you make and the taste of you. Not even when you try pushing his head away or closing your legs does he think of pulling away, you have to pull him by his hair—yanking his head away in order to stop him.
By this point, he hadn’t cum himself. He was too busy eating you out to focus on his own release, but you couldn’t let it end there. Luckily for you though, you didn’t have to ask.
Before you could say anything he began begging to fuck you. Caressing your legs as he looked at you with hazy eyes, his face flushed and his cock throbbing—twitching and leaking between his legs. His longish curly hair, is messy and he’s sweating before you can even say yes. The second you do, he’s practically crying in pure joy and desperation.
Hyuck savors every second of entering you. Rubbing his cock against your folds, slapping it against your pussy and slowly rubbing it against your clit until he finally puts it in.
He breaks as soon as the tip goes in. A soft cry leaves his lips, his voice cracking as he whimpers out your name. He tries to start of slow but he’s so sensitive from anticipation alone that he just can’t wait anymore. Not even seconds after he’s inside of you and he’s already slamming into you, not as fast as he wanted—but hard enough to make his headboard hit the wall with every thrust.
Even then he’s still stuck admiring you, the way your breasts move and the way your eyes roll. He loves seeing how you grip the pillow under your head and the way you try your hardest not to be too loud. It turns him on so much. So much that he feels like he’ll melt.
The sounds of skin clashing, moans, and panting fill the air, a hint of your perfume and sweat tangling with his own. It makes him feel like he’s on cloud 9, like he’s dreaming. It doesn’t take long before he’s trying to warn you that he’s close. Proclaiming his love for you as he fucks you, calling you beautiful and slurring is words together as he possessively calls you his.
He knows he should pull out at that point, but the thought of you being his—baring his child, telling people that he’s your boyfriend, that he’s the one who got you pregnant. That thought is enough to make him risk it and keep going. He’s always wanted to be a father anyways—why not make the woman he finds the most beautiful the mother of his first born?
In his mind-numbed state he doubles over, kissing you as he cums inside of you. Against your lips he mumbles soft ‘I love you’s over and over again unto he’s finally finished.
After this is when you finally find the shrine, to your surprise; it’s much smaller and a lot more wholesome than you thought as after that night, he removed your underwear from it. But it was only because he made a separate on that he keeps in his basement.
#haechan x reader#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#lee haechan x reader#lee donghyuck x reader#lee donghyuck imagines#lee donghyuck scenarios#lee donghyuck smut#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck smut#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#nct smut#smut#kpop smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct scenarios#nct Haechan smut#nct Haechan x reader#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct x female reader
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Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush asking him as they're so worried (as his hero persona) if he has seen him & described him while not knowing his secret identity?
Jason wanted nothing more than to tell you to go home, that it was not safe for you to be out this late at night and worried half out of your mind.
He just wanted you somewhere he’d knew you would be safe or could get to in quick timing should something ever happen, which was why when you tried calling his -red hood’s- name, he tried to ignore you but found himself unable to hear you cry out in desperation any longer and looked at you silently as you got closer to him.
‘I’m sorry to bother you but Have- have you seen my friend Jason?’ You ask with tears in your eyes.
‘There’s a lot of Jason’s in Gotham sweetheart, you’re going to be more specific.’ He replied and curses himself for how harsh he might’ve came across. He’ll punch himself later for being a dick to you later.
You dig a hand into your pocket and drew out a picture of yourself and him the night before -unknown to you- he was told about tonight’s patrol. Jason has no clue why you had that moment photographed, nothing special happened other then you two hanging out like you usually did, but knew he was one to talk when he had photos of you and him saved on his phone when he was feeling the need to see your face.
‘He’s six two, male, dark hair with a patch of white in the front, beautiful eyes that have specks of a mystical looking green, almost like their glowing half the time- I’m getting off track sorry. It’s- It’s just I’m worried about him as he promised to text me when he got home, but he never did and I’m scared that something has happened to him.’ You reply to the intimidating vigilante who looked as still as a statue.
‘I can’t loose him.’ You continue as tears streak down your face as your mind poisoned itself into thinking that Jason was dead or slowly dying in an alleyway or an abandoned warehouse and you couldn’t get to him and it killed your in ways you couldn’t describe. ‘Please, I know you’ve probably got better things then to search for a mission person but-‘ you pause to catch your breath when you felt as though your chest was being crushed slowly- ‘I don’t know who else to go to for help.’ You finished, biting down on your wobbling lower lip to prevent another sob from escaping as your eyes blur with tears.
Jason, feeling his heart break the second he saw tears, remembered where he was and who he was in that moment and brought a hand out towards you to place awkwardly on your shoulder, giving it a tight reassuring squeeze as he struggled to not admit to everything then and there if it meant soothing your heart. ‘I shall try my best to help you find your friend, until then you should get off the streets and head home, the nightlife of Gotham isn’t for everyone.’
‘What about you?’ You asked him, wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your shirt.
‘I do it so no one else has to.’ Jason or Red Hood replies softly and to wasn’t until now that you felt a sense of familiarity from the vigilante, but waves it off as some sort of projection you were putting on him in place of Jason. Why? Maybe you’d were in need of reassurance from your friend but couldn’t get that when you were unsure as to where he was without feeeing the worse.
So you look for the next best thing who happened to be a vigilante strapped to the nines with artillery, built like a brick shit house, wears a ruby red helmet and most likely six two, pushing six three with his boots.
‘That’s…’
‘Sad? Pathetic? I’ve heard it all-‘
‘Brave.’ You said interrupting him as Jason felt his heart pick up at your appraisal. Your kind words often took him off guard more often than not but it was something he loved about you more than anything. ‘Admirable even but you should look after yourself.’ You added, struggling to form a smile and Jason wanted nothing more then to hold you in his arms and tell you he was okay, but knew that he’d be putting you in more trouble than not if he did such a thing.
‘Can’t promise anything in this line of work I’m afraid,’ Jason said, ‘but I promise to try and find your friend, no matter what.’ He adds and finds himself smiling behind his mask when you gave him the first genuine smile of the night.
‘Thank you red hood, thank you.’ You cried as you lunged towards him and hugged him tightly, a sense of relief flooding your system almost immediately when you were in his arms. Jason on the other hand just wanted the night to end so that he could get out of his attire and sneak over to your apartment, just to show you that he was okay.
‘Don’t sweat it.’ He mutters under his breath, sometimes hating the life he lives if it meant worrying you half to death.
Dick:
‘Nightwing!’
Dick’s head moved fast at the sound of your voice, something he has just noticed himself doing recently, and felt the need to drop everything just to make sure you were okay.
‘That’s my name, hey are you okay? You know you shouldn’t be out here at night. It’s not safe.’ He tells you as he crosses his arms over his chest.
‘I know that but I was looking for my friend.’ You said to him.
‘And who’s your friend, maybe I can help.’ Dick replies, wanting to do anything he could in his power to keep you out of danger however he could. He didn’t want you to do something reckless and end up getting yourself hurt or even killed over it and he wasn’t anywhere near to prevent it from happening.
‘Dick. Dick Grayson.’ You told him and Dick felt his stomach drop. Him, you were looking for him? Why? ‘He hasn’t answered my calls or texts recently and I’ve gotten worried that something might’ve happened.’ You added as you showed him -nightwing- a picture of himself and Hayley from a couple of days ago. He didn’t know you had taken the photo but the way you did made it look like something taken by a professional photographer.
‘And so your best course of action was to take to the streets of a dangerous city filled with criminals and gangs alike in hopes of finding him?’ Dick asked rhetorically.
You shrugged, never having gave your plan any deeper thought since making it to realise how dangerous it might’ve been to wander Gotham at the dead of night, where crime was most likeliest to be committed. ‘That was the idea.’
Dick sighs. ‘No. What you’re going to do now is go home and leave to finding your devilishly handsome friend to me.’
‘But thi-‘ dick placed his hands on your shoulders and flashed you a reassuring smile. ‘I promise to give your friend a right good scolding for ignoring your texts and calls and to not worry you so often…just let me take it from here, okay?’
You look at nightwing and found yourself trusting this man more than you’d ever have trusted anyone else in your life and sighing. ‘Okay…I just didn’t want to bother you-‘
‘And you’re not bothering me, not at all.’ Dick reassured as he rubs your shoulders in a way that felt weirdly intimate between strangers whom have never met before. ‘I know Gotham like the back of my hand. So I’ll be able to narrow down the places where your friend might be and have him at your doorstep by morning. I promise.’ He finishes lowly as he stares you deeply in your eyes.
‘Okay. I shall leave it to you.’ You told him and dick felt relief in knowing that you were going to be safe and away from all harm. He hated that he was the reason you’d risk doing something such as searching Gotham for him at the dead of night, but he’d rather have you safe then do something risky.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines#nightwing x y/n#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader
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so obsessed with your ex | r.c.
summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.
pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC
warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!
word count: 4,1k
author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!
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Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.
Until she found out about you.
It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.
“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when she brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.
The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even though you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. Too intimate to be friendly. And Rebecca recognized you, she had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced you to her, right?
“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”
“What?”
Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.
“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”
“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.
“Are we starting to lie each other now?”
Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.
“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.
“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.
“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”
Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.
“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”
“A’ight.”
Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.
“Bex, Top is here!”
“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.
To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.
Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.
She was pretty fixated on you.
Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?
“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.
“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”
Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.
“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”
“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.
“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly as if every single word leaving his mouth was painful. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never badmouthed him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”
Topper’s explanation just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.
“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.
“What’s with him?”
Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.
“You good?”
Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.
“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”
The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.
“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”
Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”
Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.
“Is this like a test or somethin’?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”
Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?
She didn’t finish her sentence.
“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.
“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”
Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.
“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”
Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.
“She’s really pretty,” she only said.
“Yeah.”
Do you still love her?
Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dear, and that she wished to become that person for him.
And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. Did Rafe curl around your back like he did hers? Did you have to fight Rafe for the blankets? She thought finding out more about your past relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.
But she didn’t.
She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.
Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.
… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.
It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.
“Sarah!”
Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.
“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”
Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.
Oh.
“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”
“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.
“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.
“You can join us, if you want.”
“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.
“So have you already settled into Kildare?”
Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.
“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”
“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.
“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”
“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”
You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.
Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.
“How is Rafe?”
“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”
You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.
“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.
“Isn’t it weird for you?”
“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”
Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.
“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”
“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”
“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.
“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.
“Do you want to do something today?”
After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.
“Like what?”
Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.
“I don’t know, something fun.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.
“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”
“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.
“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”
Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.
“That’s what she said?”
Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”
He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.
“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”
With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything was working out in her favor!
A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.
“Oh my god.”
You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!
Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.
Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.
When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.
“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.
“What’s that?”
Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.
“… What’s wrong?”
He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.
“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”
She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.
A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”
With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.
“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”
With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.
“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”
“Yes.”
The words were muffled.
Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.
“Are you okay?”
She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.
“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”
Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”
“What?”
Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.
“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”
Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.
“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”
Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”
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author's note: tell me what you think :)
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey#obx#outer banks
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lee haechan fic recs! part 2 ❤︎
note! : used all the old fics i could find that i enjoyed
❤︎ Love at First Bite…literally!? - @huangberryyy (Wherein Haechan finally gets the chick flick moment he dreamt of. Or wherein Haechan finally understands the appeal of being bitten by bitches.)
❤︎ the bet - @tyonfs (you and lee donghyuck created a bet that stated you two would have sex if he made the winning shot. now, you’re pinned up against the lockers, about to do the one thing best friends don’t do, and you definitely shouldn’t be wanting more.)
❤︎ Babe Watch [M] - @milfgyuu (You and Haechan both have big plans this summer. You’re going to earn yourself a spot on the infamous Baywatch team and Haechan’s deadset on getting the girl. It just so happens that both your plans intersect quite nicely.)
❤︎ [8:02pm] - @nctsworld (in which a spontaneous dance in the kitchen with donghyuck sparks a revelation about how you feel about him.)
❤︎ beware the panty perv ♡ ldh x reader - @guanana (there’s a mystery at hand! it seems like your panties have been vanishing into thin air whenever you need them most? angry that your favorite pairs of panties are going missing, you decide to put on your detective hat in hopes of finding the mysterious lingerie bandit. but between all of the guys that you sleep with— you can’t seem to pinpoint who the culprit could be. it couldn’t possibly be your absolute geek of a tutor for calculus, right? nah.)
❤︎ september 19. - @hyucks-archive
❤︎ SURE THING (L.DH) - @domjaehyun
❤︎ young gods (l.dh) - @606fm (in the midst of committing felonies in the dark, lee donghyuck—your literal partner in crime and ride or die for life—manages to snag your heart in the process without you even realizing it. i mean, what the hell did you expect from seoul city’s most notorious robber?)
❤︎ [7:43am] - @aesthyuckic
❤︎ haechan is obsessed with you. - @haechurch
❤︎ the right one. (m) - @starryhyuck (donghyuck doesn’t like you going on dates with anyone else, especially lee jeno. you’re supposed to be his. and only his.)
❤︎ meow haechan using a lot of tongue meow meow - @ofjunemoment (or: you’re thinking of getting a tongue piercing, but you’re not sure how haechan feels)
❤︎ attention - @pinkynana (gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.)
❤︎ free falling - @sunpopz (your friend haechan has been acting kinda weird lately.. does it have anything to do with you? maybe it does, considering he keeps looking at you like you're gonna kill him any second. well, that and he randomly liked a three month old picture of you.)
❤︎ haechan — just for you (m) - @hyuckmov (because haechan thought you were irresistible when you were clever, if only because he knew he was the only one who could make your brain go empty.)
❤︎ Started With A Kiss - @sundaysundaes (Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?)
❤︎ if I lose my mind - @slightlymore (you’ve never cared much for your dreams. they were always confusing nonsense you forgot in the morning. this until you started to have the same dream again and again and again: a lobby, pleasant elevator music in the background, many golden doors, a handsome young man welcoming you and asking where you wanted to go that night. his name was haechan and apparently you weren’t supposed to know that, let alone fall in love with him.)
❤︎ this is the story of how we fell in love, apparently. - @navyhyuck (running a youtube channel with your best friend isn’t easy, not when he’s like a ticking time bomb that’s constantly bubbling up something new. what’s worse is that you’ve had a crush on him for the past three years.)
❤︎ face sitting - @haetkeeper
❤︎ pervert (M) - @haechannielove (you confront haechan on his disgusting and constant objectification of you.)
❤︎ Pearlescent - @d-nghy-ck (A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion.)
❤︎ i love it, starboy - @staargirlblog (slight yandere! idol! haechan x fangirl! reader)
❤︎ college boyfriend!haechan - @lvlyynim
❤︎ perv!haechan - @4everhyucks
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
#nct#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct angst#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct haechan#haechan fluff#haechan angst#nct 127#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 fluff#lee donghyuck#haechan fic recs#nct donghyuck#haechan#donghyuck#hyuck#haechan smut#haechan suggestive#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan fics#lee haechan fluff#lee haechan#lee haechan imagines#nct imagines#haechan fic rec
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divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along.
tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..
a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!!
luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.
luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure.
and he stuck true to that, until you came.
he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there.
always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car.
you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.”
he hesitates for a second, “hi.”
“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater.
“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?”
you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”
luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way.
jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father.
he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them.
at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?”
another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church.
there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him.
“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision.
he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?”
“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow.
“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?”
as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more.
“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up.
the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying.
luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep.
he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper.
his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear.
when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him.
but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does.
everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger.
heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret.
but he was here, and so, he prayed.
the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room.
luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy.
for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more.
as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers.
you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.”
his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.”
all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises?
luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him.
“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you.
is it so cruel to only tease him harder?
luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.”
before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow.
desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew.
the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things.
you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind.
luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?”
“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips.
on reaching the place,
he said to them, “pray that you
will not fall into temptation.”
the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs.
luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced.
you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?”
he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you.
“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together.
“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales.
“i’m not doing anything, luke.”
“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.”
“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church.
“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.”
“why don’t you show it to me?”
absolution;
formal release from guilt,
obligation, or punishment.
or..
an ecclesiastical declaration
of forgiveness of sins.
morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry.
luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read.
when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping.
“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l.
“tell me what you want.”
it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course.
“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh.
he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation.
god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight.
“you’re so big,” is all you can manage out.
luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?”
“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.”
luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you.
whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate.
he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts.
“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible.
“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips.
he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.”
you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas.
you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.
“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“
luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now.
“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on.
he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.”
#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan oneshot#pjo luke#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x you#charlie bushnell imagine#charlie bushnell x reader#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x you
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