#I’m gonna go back to watching the parade

[apomaro-mellow]

Hawkins Confidential 7

Part 6

“He should be back in school, shouldn’t he?”, Tommy asked as he tied his tie in front of the bathroom mirror.

Steve looked up from what he was doing, marking his personal planner with Eddie’s visitation dates. “He will. He needs time to rest.”

“He was in that hospital bed for months. I want him back in school tomorrow.”

“Tom-”

“No buts!”, Tommy said from the bathroom, coming out of it soon after. “If he’s well enough to play games in his room and call his friends on the phone, he can go to school.”

Steve knew what this was about. The will. “He got a clean bill of health. It’s literally in writing. You don’t need to parade Dustin around just to get what you want.”

“I meet with your father’s lawyer in a month. That old cretin won’t be satisfied by a doctor’s note. Dustin needs to be cartwheeling in that office."

Steve sighed. “I’ll tell him to be ready tomorrow.” In truth, Dustin had seemed ready to continue his life since he got the operation done. It was Steve who was keeping him home. But Dustin could stay his baby forever.

Sensing his somber mood, Tommy came over and leaned over him slightly. “Hey, I care about the kid. I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but I do. He needs some tough love sometimes and you kind of coddle him. Don’t argue”, Tommy said, cutting Steve off. “You know you do. Munson coming back has made you forget but I’m the one who has been here the past ten years. Dustin’s known no father other than me.”

Steve huffed. “And whose fault is that?”

“Watch what you say next…”

A lot of words were fenced behind Steve’s lips. How Eddie should have had a chance to raise Dustin. How Tommy was just like his father. The shirt he had found… Steve swallowed.

“Tommy…do you love me?”

Tommy balked at that, not expecting that kind of question. He swallowed, then cleared his throat, then adjusted his tie. “Steve, honey, of course I love you. I wanted you since you presented. The day you accepted my proposal was the best day of my life.” Suddenly, he was down on one knee again, just like that day, years ago.

Steve wondered if he called his secret partner ‘honey’. Or if they called Tommy pet names. He was still trying to figure out where he recognized that scent from. But he’d already sent that bunch of clothes to be washed, the evidence he found was already gone. Steve wouldn’t even know what to do with it. What did it matter that Tommy was cheating? It wasn’t like the two of them were having sex. 

“You’re gonna be late for work”, Steve said simply. He got up, planner in hand and walked out of the room to tell Dustin he’d be going back to school tomorrow.

As expected, he was very excited about it, ready to see his friends again and officially get back to normal. But that of course, left him free for today, so Steve decided to take Dustin with him to the club. Usually, Steve tried to keep his pup away from that part of their life, but he had to be there today.

“Why are you going to the club today?”, Dustin asked as they got into the car.

“Mrs. Carver asked a favor of me. And since she did a favor for me, I’m returning it”, Steve explained. She’d done a risky thing, giving him Eddie’s information. The least he could do was sponsor some new members. Especially when they were old classmates.

Once they arrived, Steve left the car with a valet and held Dustin’s hand as they walked in. Dustin spotted them first, running over to Nancy and shouting her name. She turned and caught him as he all but leapt at her.

“Dustin? My gosh, you’re so big!”

“I’m taller than Mike now”, he said proudly.

“It’s so good to see you guys again”, Steve said, smiling at both Nancy and Jonathan. 

Nancy looked as confident as ever, her hair cut short now. Jonathan looked as uncertain as ever. Some things never changed. They visited on occasion, which was when Dustin would see them as he visited the Wheelers. But those were always just one day engagements. Steve hadn’t seen them since graduation. 

“Chrissy’s been showing us around the place”, Jonathan said, looking out of place in the pastels, beiges, and whites with his black leather jacket. “Still not sure it’s worth all this trouble.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s something to do. And I bet Chrissy hasn’t even shown you all the best parts. Dustin, go on to the kids’ club.”

“He means the ~world class daycare center~”, Dustin said, putting on a thick British accent.

Steve showed him whose boss by scenting him before shooing him away. “Don’t know where he gets his dramatics from.”

“It’s a mystery”, Nancy smiled.

“You guys got any pups of your own yet?”, he asked. An innocent question. He might’ve heard if they did. But they were living in a whole other place and Steve wasn’t always plugged into the gossip mill. They could’ve had one and he just hadn’t heard yet. Their initial reaction, though quick and subtle, told him not everything but enough.

Jonathan’s eyes went to the floor for a half second and in that same moment, Nancy’s face and shoulders tightened before relaxing.

“No, we don’t”, Nancy replied.

“Oh, well, there’s plenty of other amenities for you to take advantage of”, Steve said, starting to lead them along. 

Steve spent about half an hour, showing them about different parts of the club before they sat down for some lunch. He smiled at them both from across the table.

“So, what do you think?”

“Like it’s a pretty swanky place to waste time”, Jonathan said, but he was half smiling too. “You come here often?”

“As much as I can”, Steve answered.

“Well, I’m impressed by all the activities. It looks hard to be bored around here”, Nancy said as drinks were served to them.

They were only able to take a sip before Carol descended. Steve just barely kept from rolling his eyes when he saw the smile plastered onto her face. Jonathan’s shoulders raised, on his guard, and Nancy responded to her omega’s distress, frowning at Carol. Their reactions reminded Steve of high school and how some things really did stay the same.

“Heeey, I hope you two don’t mind me borrowing Steve for a bit. It’s urgent.”

Steve raised a brow. “What could it possibly be?”

“It’s private”, Carol said before just barely leaning in and stage whispering, “Dustin had an incident at the daycare.”

Steve didn’t even think twice about standing. His pup was already accident prone on his own (something else he got from his sire) but this could be something serious. Was it the surgery? Steve quickly gave his apologies to the Wheeler couple before following Carol, confused when she took him into a bathroom instead.

She checked all of the stalls before giving the mirror her full attention. Steve stood there, hands on his hips.

“That was low, even for you. I thought my son was hurt!”

“He will be if you keep associating with Nancy and Jonathan. Honestly Steve, it’s like you’re the only one who doesn’t care about your reputation.” Carol wasn’t even looking at him as she redid her makeup.

“And what’s your problem with them?”, Steve crossed his arms. “Is it because they’re not miserable? Is it because they actually made it out of this town?”

“Well they ended up right back here. And they’re not as happy as they let on”, Carol grinned as she turned to face him at last.

Steve hated that he knew what was coming next. And he hated that he couldn’t just walk out and pretend to be above it. Because obviously Carol knew something about them and who knows who else she told. If rumors were spreading about them, Steve had to know so that he could warn them.

“You look like you’re about to burst. Just tell me.”

“I heard it straight from someone over at Hawkins General. They can’t have pups.” She made a little squeak like it was just juicy gossip and not something devastating. “Oh Steve, I don’t take any pleasure in it”, she said, reading his mind. “It’s just, this club, the people in our class, we have a status to uphold. Now Nancy is….fffine on her own. The Wheelers practically built this town with your family. But then she ran off with that mutt Byers? And after all that, they can’t have children?”

“They’re not the only childless people here”, Steve said.

“Andy and I are simply waiting for the right moment. There’s a market to these things, not that you’d know. You couldn’t wait to pop ‘em out. What happened to that big family you wanted?”

Steve HAD wanted one. Just not with Tommy. Not in that stifling house. He watched as Carol turned back to the mirror to spritz herself with perfume. 

“Meeting up with Andy?”, he asked, remembering her date night ritual.

Most either went without perfumes to let their scent shine. The ones that did use perfume often used one close to their own scent. Carol used complementary perfumes instead. 

“I am”, she said. “And if he’s busy, well I can flirt with one of the other boys in the office to get his attention. I gave you that tip so you make the right decision, Steve. I know you and Chrissy are going to sponsor Nancy and Jonathan. For the good of your reputation, your pup’s and Tommy’s…don’t. Ta-ta~”, she said as she walked out.

Steve caught a noseful of her scent and in that instant he knew.

Carol smelled like strawberries. She often used a fruity perfume, to make an alpha’s mouth water, she had said. It was the same scent that had clung to Tommy’s shirt.

He returned to the others, ordering lunch and eating while he felt sick to his stomach. Steve assured them both that he planned on sponsoring them along with Chrissy. If this was what they wanted, then he would help. They were very kind not to mention his scent, which had no doubt turned unpleasant.

But of course his pup, as blunt as ever, mentioned it while they waited for the valet to bring the car around.

“Dad, why do you smell like that?”, Dustin asked, pressing his face to Steve’s side.

“I had some bad fish at lunch”, he lied. “I just need to lie down.”

When they got home, Dustin rushed off, disappearing somewhere. Steve did as he said he was going to do and lied down in bed. He was hurting. But worse than that, he didn’t know why he was hurting. It wasn’t like he loved Tommy or wanted anything from him. It was just….just…

“Dad! Phone for you!”, Dustin screamed.

Steve shot up. He hadn’t heard the phone ringing. Had he been that out of it? He picked up the receiver they had in the bedroom.

“Hello? Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Hey tiger”, Eddie’s voice sounded from the other end.

“Hey um, what’s up?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. Little tyke called and said you weren’t feeling well.”

“He said he ate rotten fish but I don’t think that’s it”, Dustin said, also on the line.

“Dustin! Hang up!”, Steve shouted.

“You sound pretty healthy now!”

“Young man! Two words! No. Radio.”

“What?!”

“Listen to your dad”, Eddie said.

“You’re my dad too! Don’t I get points from you that negate his groundings?”

“Who is this sly fox trying to pit us against each other? He gets that sneakiness from you”, Eddie accused.

“Unfortunately, I do have to take credit for that. Dustin. Last warning before I make your bedtime six pm.”

Dustin groaned before hanging up the phone. Steve waited until he could hear the tell-tale stomping back to his room before speaking again.

“I’m so sorry about him. I don’t even know how he got your number.”

“I gave it to him, of course. I hope that was okay?”

“Of course it’s okay”, Steve sat back against the headboard. “Like he said, you’re his dad too.”

“So was it actually some expired caviar that got you down, or something else?”

“....Something else”, Steve said, because he could never lie to Eddie.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“...No. Not until I know what I wanna do about it. Or what it all means.”

“Hm”, Eddie said. And Steve could imagine him nodding his head. “You still feel down?”

Steve smiled. “No. Not anymore.” It was crazy what a short talk with Eddie (Dustin too) could do. “But since I have you on the line, could we just talk? Tommy shouldn’t be home for a couple of hours.” Especially if Carol was keeping him busy.

“Baby, I’d listen to you read the phone book. We can always talk.”

Steve’s smile got bigger. This time, he didn’t correct Eddie’s use of a pet name.

Part 8

[freewayshark]

Not to discourse on American Thanksgiving but I saw a post that was talking about how bucktommy fans say they don’t like Confessions because of the way Eddie’s storyline played out but clearly it was because of the breakup and even though it’s something I already knew and have repeated often it just hit me all over again that it really just doesn’t occur to them that bucktommy fans for the most part do love Eddie and care about his arc. But naturally the ability to care about a character outside your ship is a hard concept for them to grasp when a good chunk of them don’t even actually like both the characters in their ship to begin with

[littlelamy]

newlywed!rafe x newlywed!reader; a wedding night to remember

the door to the honeymoon suite barely closed before rafe was on you, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. his lips found your neck instantly, kissing and biting at the soft skin as you gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt.

“you’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “parading around in that fucking dress, knowing i was watching.”

“rafe…” you whimpered, trying to catch your breath, but he wasn’t having it. his hands were already tugging at the zipper of your dress, impatience dripping from every movement.

“no,” he grunted, yanking the fabric down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. “no more teasing, baby. i’ve waited too long for this.”

he pushed you back onto the bed, the gown still half on, pooling around your hips as you watched him strip off his jacket and tie with rough, hurried movements. his eyes were dark, filled with hunger as he looked at you—possessive, almost predatory.

“look at you,” he muttered, shaking his head as his fingers grazed over your thighs, pushing the fabric higher, exposing your panties. “my perfect fucking bride.”

you bit your lip, heat flooding your body at the intensity in his gaze. “i’m yours,” you whispered, wanting so badly for him to claim you, to make you feel the way only rafe could.

“damn right, you are,” he hissed, pulling at the delicate lace until it ripped, your panties gone in a heartbeat. you gasped at the sudden exposure, but the smirk on his face told you he wasn’t finished.

“i’m going to ruin you tonight,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous as he spread your legs apart, his eyes locked on the wetness already glistening between your thighs. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited to do this.”

he lowered his head, his mouth hot against your skin as he kissed up the inside of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. your hips bucked involuntarily, a whine escaping your lips, but rafe held you down with one firm hand.

“be patient, princess,” he teased, letting his breath ghost over your slick folds, making you squirm beneath him. “i’m gonna make you beg for it.”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you, your hands clutching the sheets as rafe’s tongue flicked out, just barely grazing your clit. “please…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “rafe, please…”

he chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “that’s what i like to hear.” he finally gave in, his tongue pressing flat against you, dragging up your slit before circling your clit with slow, deliberate movements that had your head spinning.

“fuck…” you gasped, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure surged through you. rafe didn’t stop, his mouth working you over, sucking and licking with a precision that made you see stars. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more, needing him.

“you taste so good,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue plunging deep inside you, making your whole body tremble. “so fucking sweet.”

“rafe…” you cried out, the pressure building inside you as he continued to devour you like a man starved, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your thighs clenched around his head, and he only growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place.

“i’m not stopping until you cum for me,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding as he flicked his tongue over your clit again, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “i want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

it didn’t take long. your body tightened, every muscle coiled with tension as your orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pure ecstasy that left you gasping, your body shuddering beneath him.

rafe didn’t give you a moment to recover. before you could even catch your breath, he was on top of you, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his body pressing you into the mattress.

“that’s just the beginning,” he growled against your lips, his cock hard and heavy as it pressed against your entrance. “i’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll never forget this night.”

“please…” you begged, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, but desperate for more. “i need you, rafe.

“yeah?” he smirked, teasing you by rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds, making you whimper in frustration. “you need me that bad?”

“yes, please…” you gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. “rafe, i need you so bad. please, fuck me.”

that was all he needed to hear. with one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you open, filling you completely. you cried out at the sudden fullness, your nails digging into his skin as he set a brutal pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips slamming against yours as he drove deeper and deeper, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place. “taking me so fucking well, princess.”

you were a mess beneath him, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure built, each thrust sending shockwaves through you. “rafe…” you moaned, your voice barely coherent as he fucked you senseless, his name the only word you could manage.

“you like this, don’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “you like when i fuck you like this, when i make you mine.”

“yes…” you gasped, your body trembling, your mind barely able to keep up with the sensations flooding you. “i love it… i love you…”

rafe’s thrusts faltered for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. “say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick with emotion.

“i love you,” you whimpered, the words falling from your lips without hesitation.

“shit…” he groaned, his movements becoming more desperate, more frantic as he chased his own release. “i love you too, baby. always.”

the words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as another orgasm ripped through you, more intense than the first. your nails raked down his back as you cried out, your body trembling, completely at his mercy.

rafe wasn’t far behind. with a few more hard, erratic thrusts, he came with a low growl, his body shaking as he spilled inside you, filling you with everything he had. he collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged, his heart pounding against yours as you both lay there, tangled together.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people completely spent. rafe slowly pulled out of you, rolling onto his back and pulling you into his arms.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close. “forever.”

“forever,” you echoed, your body still trembling as you snuggled into his chest, feeling completely safe, completely his.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[dollishmehrayan]

# “HOLD UP, POSE!” ── .✦ ( model!reader x batboys s/o kinda requested ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so sorry for the break and how i traumatized half of you guys with my rant (if I suffer you gonna do too && let’s move on now ) and it’s lowkeyy funny ngl but omgg, I’m finally back though soo yeah but I’m finally taking requests again for a bit too so about that yeah and also make sure to go vote on the poll, we’re at 600+ votes already for my 1k event!! Tags: (batboys x model!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Your biggest fan, no contest. He has a folder on his phone labeled “My Gorgeous Girl” filled with all your magazine covers, runway shots, and candid photos he’s sneakily taken of you (even the ones where you’re eating pizza in sweats).

Loves to drop the fact that you’re a model into conversations. Someone says something even remotely related, and Dick is like, “Oh, that reminds me of the time yn walked for Valentino. She looked stunning. Anyway, how’s your dog?”

Flirty but lowkey jealous. He’s all smiles at your shoots, but if a photographer or fellow model gets a little too friendly, he’ll sidle up behind you, wrap an arm around your waist, and casually go, “Hey, babe, everything good here?”

Runs your fan page in secret. He denies it every time, but you know it’s him posting like archive photos of you? with captions like, “Truly the most breathtaking woman alive.”

Always hypes you up. You’re stressing before a runway show? He’s holding your hands, looking you dead in the eyes, and saying, “You’re going to kill it, just like always. They’re not ready for you.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Pretends not to care, but he’s secretly obsessed. You’ll catch him flipping through your magazines with a bored expression, but the dog-eared pages of all your spreads say otherwise.

Gets grumpy when he has to share you with the world. “Do you really have to fly to Milan again? Can’t they get someone else to wear the fancy coat?” But he’s the first one to text you after your show with a “You looked amazing. Miss you, though.”

Always lurking at your events. He doesn’t do red carpets, but you’ll spot him in the back of the after-party, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, watching you like you’re the only person in the room.

Jealous but funny about it. If a male model gets paired with you for a shoot, Jason will grumble, “You know I could wear that suit better, right?”

Says he doesn’t care about fashion but definitely critiques it. “They put you in that? Really? That’s what they think is high fashion?” (Meanwhile, he still owns a leather jacket he’s had since he was 17.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The low-key proud boyfriend. Tim doesn’t brag about you… unless someone else brings it up. Then it’s a full PowerPoint presentation: “Oh, you didn’t know she walked the Paris Fashion Week finale? Let me show you.”, “it’s not that serious Tim.”

Forgets how famous you are sometimes. He’s so focused on his work that when he accompanies you to an event, he’s always surprised when people scream your name. “Wow, they’re… really excited to see you, huh?”

Pretends to be chill but panics at your shoots. If you’re wearing something too revealing, Tim’s sitting in the corner like, “Does she really need to wear that? I mean, it’s fashion, I guess, but still…”

Shows up to all your shows with coffee. He knows your schedule can be brutal, so he always has your favorite drink ready and a warm smile. “Long day, huh? Here, you’ve earned this.”

Accidentally goes viral as your boyfriend. Someone snaps a picture of him holding your bag while you’re doing a fitting, and now he’s trending as “hot model’s mystery man.” Or “Drake Spotted With L/N?”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks modeling is beneath you. Not because he doesn’t support you, but because he genuinely thinks you’re too good for it. “Tt. Why waste your time parading around in someone else’s designs when you could rule the world instead?”

Still shows up to your shows like a proud dad. He won’t admit it, but he’s ridiculously proud of you. He’ll sit front row, arms crossed, looking annoyed until you walk out. Then his face softens, and he claps (but only once).

Hates everyone in the industry. Photographers, stylists, agents—he side-eyes them all. “Do they have to touch you so much?”

Quietly supportive in his own way. You come home exhausted, and he’s already brewed your favorite tea and laid out your comfiest pajamas. “You should rest. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Keeps all your clippings. You find a scrapbook in his study filled with your covers, tear sheets, and event photos. When you ask him about it, he just mutters, “I didn’t want them getting lost.” And even keeps some fan letters that you keep or lost along the way.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks it’s “adorable.” Bruce can’t help but chuckle whenever you mention your modeling career. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” But he’s not teasing he genuinely admires how passionate you are.

Surprisingly knowledgeable about fashion. He knows every major designer, can spot couture from a mile away, and will occasionally surprise you by saying things like, “That’s Galliano, isn’t it? From the ‘06 collection?”

Makes every event feel like a power couple moment. When you walk a red carpet together, it’s like the world collectively gasps. He keeps his hand on your back, whispers sweet nothings, and makes sure you’re the center of attention.

Defends your career to anyone who dares question it. Someone makes a snide remark about modeling being “shallow,” and Bruce immediately shuts them down with, “Actually, it’s an incredibly demanding profession that requires both discipline and skill. You should try it sometime.”

Buys your agency. You’re stressed about a bad contract or a difficult agent? Suddenly, Wayne Enterprises owns the company, and Bruce is like, “Problem solved. You can thank me later.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous

Masterlist

“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.

“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.

“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.

“What?” You asked him.

“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.

“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.

“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.

“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.

“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.

“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.

“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.

“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.

“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”

“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”

“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.

“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.

“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”

“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.

“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“What do I do?” He whined.

“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.

“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.

“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.

“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”

“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”

“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.

“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.

“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.

“Are you?” You asked quietly.

“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.

“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.

“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.

When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.

“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.

“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.

“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.

“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.

“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”

“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.

“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”

“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.

“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.

“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”

“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”

“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”

“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.

“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.

“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.

“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.

“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”

“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”

“So you hate me now? All because I un-“

“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.

“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.

“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.

“What did you do?” Effie asked him.

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”

“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.

“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”

“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”

“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.

“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”

“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.

“I need to fix this.”

“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.

“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.

“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.

“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”

“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.

“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.

“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.

“What are you doing in here? Get out.”

“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.

“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.

“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.

“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”

“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.

“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”

“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.

“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.

“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.

“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.

“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.

“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.

“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”

“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.

“Me either.”

“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.

“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.

“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “

“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”

“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.

“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”

“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”

“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.”

“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.

“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.

“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”

“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.

“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.

“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.

“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.

“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.

“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.

“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: 𝔹𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕤

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛𝙼𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚢!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dark!rafe, swearing, cheating, pet names, degredation, name calling, mentions of murder, guns mentioned, drugs mentioned, biting, jacob’s ladder piercing, public p in v, edging, denial, threats, blackmailing, boot riding, oral sex, fingering, rough oral, hair pulling, ownership kink, icky!rafe

📖 this was a mix of two asks & I did put my own twist on it: #1 anon ask: omg for the holiday slutacular could you do dealer!rafe, forbidden love, biting, hair pulling and maybe a cute little piercing on rafe iykwim, and line 8 xxx #2 request by @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog - Mobster Friends to lovers love triangle / Obedience training with edging, denial and ruined orgasms. Maybe end the session with a ruin or just denial. Or maybe count the edges / Try to stay quiet understand

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The door clangs shut behind Shoupe, and with it, a part of you feels lighter.

You watch him through the glass partition as he adjusts his duty belt, his expression stoic. The downtown holiday parade’s underway—Shoupe heading out to oversee his deputies, managing crowd control. His movements are crisp, efficient… Everything about him screams order and discipline. He’s a good man, a good deputy, and a good boyfriend. He’s just good…

“You sure you’ll be okay here?” He asks, his blue eyes softening on yours.

“I’ve got this,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Go save Christmas.”

His lips quirk into a smile before he leans in, pressing a light kiss on your lips, quick, professional, almost impersonal. But that was Shoupe—steady, dependable, never reckless. He was the kind of man you built a life with.

He turns and walks out, and you watch him disappear into the chilly North Carolina night. The sound of the heavy door slams shut behind him. Then, like clockwork, you hear it. A slow, lazy chuckle that raises every hair on your body.

“Still settlin’ for vanilla. Huh, pretty?”

Your heart drops at the sound of his voice. Deep, smooth, and laced with mockery. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. Rafe Cameron. You swallow hard, willing yourself to stay calm.

“You’re not gonna say hi, baby?” His voice was louder now, drawing the attention of the other inmates. “We go way back. Don’t be rude, sweetheart.”

You turn slowly, boots echoing against the concrete floor as you walk toward his cell. You keep your expression neutral, but inside, everything’s unraveling.

Rafe stands at the bars, his big hands casually wrapped around the cold steel. He looks good. Too good. Prison’s sharpened him, but it hasn’t broken him. His caramel-colored hair is cut short; jawline more defined than you’d remembered, his five o'clock shadow gives him a dangerous edge. Rafe’s eyes—those goddamn eyes—they’re the same: fierce, calculating, and maddeningly irresistible.

“You’re not supposed to be talking to me,” you scold, folding your arms across your chest.

“And yet here you are.” Rafe’s lips bend into that lazy, confident smirk that once made you weak.

“I’m just doing my job,” you crack. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Ouch.” He presses a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Still got that fire. I fuckin’ love it.” You roll your eyes, turning to leave. “Wait.” His voice softens, taking on that familiar, enticing tone. “Come on, we can catch up. No harm in talkin’. Yeah? Just two old friends.”

“We were never friends,” you clip back, though the words feel hollow.

He chuckles again, low and rich, the kind of laugh that makes your stomach flip, and it does just that. “That’s not what I remember. We were more than friends, princess. You gotta remember that, no?”

Don’t let him get to you.

“You’ve got nothing to say?” He pushes, eyes narrowing. “Maybe Shoupe knows all about your past. Or maybe he doesn’t.”

And in a moment, everything comes to a screeching halt.

“I wonder what he’d think,” Rafe muses, tongue-in-cheek. “Deputy L/n, the straight-laced officer used to run guns… for me-”

“Stop, Rafe.”

“… Used to party a little too hard. Used to beg me for a taste.”

“That’s enough,” you hiss, stepping closer to the bars.

He leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You think you can outrun who you are? You and me, we’re the same. We always have been.”

You shake your head, but the words cling to you like smoke. No. I’m not that person anymore. “I’ve got a good life now,” you stammer; voice shaky and hoarse. “A good man. A real job. I’m not your girl anymore, Rafe.”

His smile falters for a moment, but it’s back, more dangerous than ever. “Sure, you’ve got the uniform, the badge. But deep down? You miss it. The rush. The freedom-”

“You’re wrong-”

“… me. I know you do,” he smiles, as he finishes his words.

You hate how right he sounds. The weight of the badge on your chest feeling heavier with every second you stand by him.

“I should walk away,” you say, more to yourself than anyone else.

“But you won’t,” he smirks as his eyes lock onto yours, challenging you. “You never could say no to me.”

Your mind tells you to move, turn, and leave, but you don’t. Your feet stayed planted, pulse spiking.

“Come closer,” Rafe whispers.

You step in, hating yourself for it. The space between you is nothing now, just the cold steel bars. Rafe reaches out, his fingers brushing your wrist. The contact’s electric, sending a shiver down your spine. “Stop actin’ so tough, baby-”

“You’re delusional,” you whisper, but the conviction in your voice wavers.

Rafe’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, and you feel your resolve crumble to pieces. Rafe always knew how to break me down, piece by piece, until nothing was left but the truth.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he says softly. “But you can’t lie to me.”

Before you can stop yourself, you lean in. Rafe’s lips meet yours through the bars, a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s raw, consuming, filled with years of anger, longing, and darkness.

Rafe reaches out, cupping your sex in his large hand, before rubbing two long fingers on your clothed clit. “Remember how good I made you feel?” He mumbles, and you do.

“I remember you planting drugs and a gun in my purse, Rafe,” you hiss. “You would have ruined my life.”

“You were keepin’ ‘em safe,” he whispers as he undoes your belt with a single hand, plunging it into your panties the next, making you bite back a gasp. He clicks his tongue, chuckling smugly at the messy lace. “How are you always so wet?”

Your hand draws to him, too, cupping his bulge through his thin cotton uniform, feeling his rock-hard length underneath. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moan, remembering how he filled you just right.

“Try to stay quiet, understand?” He smiles cruelly. “Wouldn’t wanna stop,” he pulls away his fingers, stealing your pleasure with it, denying you only to start again, working harder and faster.

“Come in here. Yeah? I won't bite.”

“No… I can't. I-”

He laughs wickedly, rolling his lust-blown eyes. “Fine… Have it your way.” Resting his big hand on your head Rafe shoves you down to your knees. You grab the iron bars, peeking both ways fast before looking up at him nervously, the angle of the cell concealing you for the moment.

He runs his hands through his messy fringe, pushing bangs out of the way, giving you a better look at his beautiful blue eyes.

You wrap your fingers around his loose cotton pants, pulling them down, then his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take him in your hand, feeling the chill of six metal balls against your palm. You glide your thumb along the underside of his cock, touching the metal bars; one, two, three… You look up at Rafe, and he smirks.

“Don’t get too excited now,” Rafe mocks as his hand moves around, cupping the back of your head. You look at his fat tip, a tear of precum weeping onto the floor below. “Fuck, you look so pretty on your knees, baby.”

He pulls you forward, lips parting as you wrap your mouth around his swollen head, tasting him, tongue toying with the metal with every flick. Sucking him deep into your throat, you hear him moan; the man quickly catches himself, tilting forward, biting down on his muscular forearm to dampen his pleasured sounds.

Rafe thrusts forward, sending his cock deeper into your mouth, making you gag. “Jesus fuck, you got a throat on you, huh?” He lauds as he wraps a hand under your chin, feeling his dick pump in and out as he fucks your face.

You moan around his thickness, feeling pressure between your thighs as Rafe teases you with the toe of his shoe on your clit, urging you to rock against him, making your thighs quake. “You like that don't you?”

“Mpfhh…” You moan with a mouth full of dick.

“Like ridin’ daddy’s boot like a whore? Got this whole department under my thumb… Got their prettiest deputy ruttin’ her shit on my boot, chokin’ on my dick. Fuckkk… M’just show in off now. Ain’t I?” He drawls as tears tumble down your cheeks.

Your hand strokes and rolls his balls—his body tightening in your hand as you deep-throat his cock. “You better swallow it all,” Rafe rasps, with a challenging bite to his voice.

He throws his head back to the ceiling, hips stuttering as he paints your throat with his climax. You stay frozen in place, feeling him throb on your tongue, careful not to get any on your uniform.

“Mmm… Damn, that’s my girl,” Rafe sighs as he rolls his neck, taking and pushing out a deep, satisfied breath. “The fact that Shoupe’s gettin’ this shit’s gonna kill me,” Rafe mumbles darkly as he tugs you to your feet. “Ya know… M’not gonna be in here forever. Let me take care of him for you, angel. Hmm?”

“Rafe…”

He sucks his teeth and smiles. “Then again, what’s the fun in takin’ you away from him if he’s dead? Huh? I’ll think about it, n’get back to you.” He mutters through a breathy laugh.

“Don’t even joke about that shit-”

“Who said I am, princess?” Rafe wraps a hand around his cock, squeezing the base. “Turn around. Let me show you how much I missed you.” You turn around, and Rafe reaches for you, pulling your back into the bars, his big arms reaching around your waist, fighting with your zipper, tugging your uniform off your hips.

He wraps his big fingers around your panties, ripping one side then the next, making your eyes widen in horror at the volume of the tear. “Rafe, please,” you beg for him to stop being so loud, begging at the same time for his cock, a whirlwind of emotions swirling through your mind.

He tosses the panties back to his bed, turning back his attention to you with a toothy smile. “You can't imagine the shit I’m gonna do to those…” He whispers as he presses the tip of his cock against your glossy hole. You reach behind you, grabbing for his hips to coax him forward, but he doesn't budge, running himself through your arousal—teasing you shamelessly.

You can feel your wetness on your thighs, and so can Rafe. He lifts his uniform, taking it between his teeth to get a better look. Your head falls forward in pleasure as he thrusts in suddenly. His hands snake forward, grabbing your hips, pulling you as deep as he possibly can go with the bars in the way, making you let out an airy, soundless cry.

Rafe pulls out nice and slow, letting his piercings drag across your wet walls, making you gasp as you feel the little pops.

He starts to slowly pick up the pace—your pleasure growing with each movement of his toned hips. Your body claps against his, and you should stop, but you just can’t, the plop plop plop of his wet skin against yours, filling the space around you.

Rafe starts pistoning his hips into you, fucking you at a rapid pace, making you cover your mouth with both hands—tears rolling over the tops. “How bad do you wanna come in my cell right now? Got what, an inch or two more cock for that greedy little cunt of yours.” Rafe reaches forward, taking a fistful of your hair, yanking you back to his chest.

Your panting lips find him, Rafe smiling nastily against your mouth before sucking on your tongue. “That’s my girl,” he mumbles as he fucks into you sharp and hard, making your ass ripple with each thrust.

Rafe turns towards your neck, his warm breath fanning against your hot skin. He kisses you messily, gliding his tongue along the column of your neck before biting down.

“Don’t be so rough… There can’t be any marks. Please,” you plead with Rafe, his teeth already driving into your skin; your words just making the man even more determined to do so, nipping down harder, making you grip the steel bars to keep from screaming, a muffled whine coming out nonetheless.

“Baby, you have to be quiet, or they’ll figure out what Kildare’s finest is doin’ on the clock… Fuck, I always knew you were a slut f’me,” Rafe grunts, his hips never faltering, slamming harder into your warm, wet pussy.

“M’gonna cum,” you whimper.

“I know you are,” Rafe smiles, his hand already halfway up your body to cover your mouth before the first utterance even leaves your lips.

You cry out against his big palm, just praying he won’t pull his hand away, but you know Rafe wants to get out of here… He wouldn’t take that risk himself. Vile squelching fills the space around you. You reach down, grabbing the iron bars for support, hands twisting around the metal as your thighs clap against Rafe’s.

Your vision blurs as your body is taken by pleasure; Rafe continues to rail you from behind, pounding you through your orgasm as you cum around his big cock. Rafe groans in pleasure at the feeling—his toned hips snapping back, pushing into you as he cums hard, pressing his lips against you to swallow your moans and mewls. He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air. “You’re gonna help me, princess,” he says, his voice jagged and rushed. “You’re gonna get these charges dropped. And when I’m out?” He smirks. “You’re mine again.”

“Rafe, I can’t,” you sniffle.

“Can’t?” Rafe asks smugly. “But you’ll do it. Because if you don’t…” He trails off, letting the threat hang in the air.

Rafe pulls out nice and slow, making you shudder at the loss of him. You reach down, grabbing your pants fast, tucking your uniform in before anyone can see. You feel the warm sensation of Rafe’s cum rolling wet down your inner thigh, making even more of a mess.

You stumble back, breathing hard; your mind still spinning from your orgasm. You look at Rafe’s body as he pulls up his prison uniform: wet teeth marks at the neckline of his shirt, your arousal pooled around the bottom, his stiff, throbbing dick’s trapped in his pants, sticking out of the top of the elastic band, his swollen head glistening with your shared release. Rafe’s blue eyes glint wildly, staring right through your soul.

Your mind is screaming to run—to get as far away from him as possible. But you know the truth. Rafe Cameron wasn’t someone you run from. He was someone you face or surrendered to.

And right now, looking at the beautiful, wicked man before you, surrender felt inevitable.

[red-doll-face]

Getting caught in the rain with Arthur leads to him finding creative ways to warm you up.

(high honor) arthur morgan x fem. reader

I love this trope! prob been done before but I cant resist... 😔Can you believe I wanted this to be a short head canon post?? LMAO it ended up way longer than that. That's why it has a more casual thing going on despite being super long 🥲Happy thanksgiving! This is for the girlies who are stuck with family and need something absolutely filthy to read !!! 💕💕💕💕💕

Warnings: NSFW content, vaginal sex, while honor isn't too relevant, arthur is very sweet and hes kind of a weenie here, in a good way! arthur does not have bad intentions here, he's genuinely a sweet little man...

-

Thinking of begging Arthur to take you away from camp for a while. Maybe you haven't had a bath in a bit or you're sick of hearing Swanson drunkenly parade around camp. But you've decided to ask Arthur, he's always so sweet to you and you know he won't say no. And Arthur and his stupid bleeding heart (the one that bleeds so much more for you) grumbles and pretends he's thinking about it but really he'd probably say yes to anything that came from your lips. He has no regrets when he sees the smile you give him. You're hoisted up onto the back of his horse, holding onto his waist so you don't fall. Arthur is desperately trying to play it cool. 

Then the rain starts coming down, you're soaked through very quickly and Arthur, such a gentleman, sheds his coat to give it to you, except now he is soaked through as well. The both of you are freezing and he tells you that you have to stop until the weather clears. He’s cussing up a storm worse than the one you're in. You nod, just wanting to be warm, wracked by shivers. He comes up on an abandoned shack and guides you inside, shutting the rain out. You're standing in the center of the room, looking like a wet cat after a miserable bath, Arthur is kind enough to take his coat off of you, giving you a ratty old, moth bitten blanket but it doesn't do much of anything for the cold. Trying to get a fire going proves fruitful but it's a small one and the wind blowing in from the flue almost puts it out several times.

Arthur feels so helpless, sitting there watching your teeth start to chatter as you sit in front of the pathetic little fire. He's trying to apologize (Ah, I’m sorry, I didn't know it was gonna come down like that,) but you only tell him it's not his fault. He has to help, all he wants to do is help. Things aren't getting any better and he doesn't want you to come down with something on account of him being an idiot. And then he gets an idea. He’s red all over flushed at the thought but he knows taking your soaking clothes off would help. And he's standing there, awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to hide under his hat. He’s gently clearing his throat, trying to get your attention. 

“Maybe we could try… I…could…” he's nervously stumbling through his words and he's looking at you, sitting on the floor, desperately trying to warm your hands by the fire. You look up to him but he can hardly speak, so enraptured by the look of utter trust, reliance on him. His mouth hangs open but he swallows the lump of spit in his mouth. He tries to shake off these boyish jitters he gets around you. “Uhhh- I mean, it would be better if we weren't sittin’ round in these clothes, I guess, can’t be doin’ you any good...”  

“Really, you think so…?” Your voice is quiet and meek, struggling to say anything past the clicking of your teeth and the shivers. “Well then, turn around, Arthur,” at your obvious attempt to be modest, he nods stiffly and turns towards the wall, listening to you take your dress and your underskirts off, landing in a wet plop on the floor. You whine, peeling yourself out of your undergarments before a quiet ok leaves your lips. He turns and you're desperately covering yourself with that dusty blanket, legs bare, fabric hardly long enough to cover the soft mound between your legs, the fat of your inner thighs squished together. Arthur has a hard time keeping his gaze from locking onto any of the inviting bits of skin you show him. You're embarrassed, biting your lip, squeezing your arms around yourself. 

“Aren't you gonna- Arthur, you're gonna do it too, right?” Arthur has a hesitant nod and a course even though he just now thought he should probably follow along to help make you more comfortable. He’s removing his hat first, nothing to hide under now and he notices that you watch him take his gun belt off, unfastening his suspenders from his pants. You finally look away, his boots and his pants are peeled off and his shirt is unbuttoned. He’s breathing heavily now, naked as the day he was born. But you won't stop shivering. Your hair is still wet. And the fire is struggling to warm you from the bitter cold that clings to the dusty air. There isn't much left to burn for the fire. 

“You want me to hold you?” It's out of his mouth before he can stop it, trying to smack away these thoughts about the glimpses he’s getting of your naked figure underneath the blanket. He swears it's only out of necessity, that you're just not warming up fast enough. “Don’t want you gettin’ sick on me,” He really does only want you comfortable. Unrealistically hoping this won't change what you most likely consider a friendship. You nod, vigorously. 

“I think it would be ok, maybe if you just didn’t- didn’t look. Just- don’t look,” and you're desperate, curling up in his lap in front of the wavering fire. You're unable to look at him, but you still rub into him, enjoying how his body warms up a lot faster than yours. And both of you make some excuse that things would be better without that old blanket between you two. And suddenly you're pressed into him, his arms tight around you while he looks at the ceiling to avoid staring at things he shouldn't. Arthur struggles hard to keep from rubbing upwards into you, trying to keep you from sitting directly between his legs, afraid the way his body reacts to the feel of your body will scare you, scandalize you. But you only seem to want to be there more, getting comfortable with him. His chest hair tickles you, the hair creeps all the way down his torso. You giggle softly as it tickles you. His heart beats fast at the feel of you, so soft compared to the roughness of him.

As if all of the blood hasn't already rushed down to the very center of him, you just have to sit squarely on his lap. He tries to readjust you but it's too late and you've felt him, hard as a rock, pushing at you. He's so embarrassed, stumbling over an apology, “Shit-I-I’m sorry, I-” in that surly voice, all rough and low. you gasp and look over your shoulder. You see how he can hardly stand to look at you with his pretty blue gem-toned eyes. Instead he shows you his profile as he turns away. 

“It's ok”, Arthur has no idea how he's supposed to look at you after this, he can't see himself looking you in the eyes for a long while after you've felt his cock nudging the swell of your ass, unable to deny his own reaction to you. Hopefully he’ll be able to dismiss it as a fluke and not a devastating hope that you’d be interested in him that he's been crushing down for months now. He's trying to will away the burgeoning desire just under his skin, tamping down fires that rage on. And you look up at him again with that look of trust in your eyes, too ashamed to continue touching you, wholeheartedly convinced you don't like him. 

But then you're only closer than you were, looking up at him, so close, he's breathing in your scent, sweet and like fresh summer rain. His eyes search yours for any inclination and all you have to do is put your hand on his prickly cheek for him to lean and kiss you, hands on his broad chest, rushing over the warmth you can feel. How he ends up with you on his lap, tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his big hands squeezing at your hips, he's not too sure. Your arms are over his shoulders, playing with his light brown hair sweetly, rubbing the sore muscles in his back. And the glide of his tongue over yours is heaven, he swears. You whine into his kisses, the heat between the both of you licks over your skin, noses clumsily bumping into each other. 

Then he’s on top of you, tucking you over the blanket. “You gotta tell me you want this, want me,” and all you can do is say “Yes, please, Arthur, please,” features showing your ecstasy, anticipating his hands on you.

His hands are rough; petting down your sides. Any worries he had about being too old, too ugly and too brutish for you are forgotten when you kiss him, spread your legs for him to fit between them. When you push your breasts in his hands when he goes to touch them. Your nipples are hard from the cold but his hands start to warm them up when he gropes at them, squeezing languidly at your breasts, grabbing handfuls.

It's not long before he’s pinning your thighs up with his hands, spreading you and licking eagerly between your legs, so selfless. Letting you moan as loud as you like, telling you how good you taste, the roughened pads of his fingers circling at the sensitive button at the top of your slit. And he's so strong, doesn't put much effort into keeping your legs up. He has dulcet praises for you, “Such a pretty girl, darlin’, jus’ beautiful,” making you soften and ease.

He’s so warm, holding you, like you wanted him to, messy kisses that taste like you. The very tip of him catches on you, dipping softly between your folds. Your nails dig into him, thighs clench tight. He's sweet talking to you, shushing you, rubbing hard at the delicate little nub, getting you as wet as possible. Saying how good you look. How he must be dreaming. That’s my girl is what he says when you soak his fingers with your own arousal, heat rising to the apples of your cheeks. Even more when he's working his cock inside of you, panting, he seems overwhelmed, mumbling and groaning praises to you, his sweet girl, perfect in that slow easy voice of his. You feel him carefully easing you open, hissing at the feel of you wrapped tight on him and leaking down his shaft. You can't say much but his name, begging him not to stop, feeling his fingers almost bruise the tender softness of your hips. 

Arthur pushes so deep, a growl of pleasure leaking from his lips. You didn't think he would feel so big. Telling him how big he is and feels; “You're so big, Arthur,” in a wispy moan, makes him groan. He just wants to hear how much you like him. The rhythm he was trying to keep slow and careful speeds up. And he doesn't last very long, poor thing. It's been a while for him and he's flushed bright red, embarrassed and feeling a tad emasculated. The disappointed son of a bitch he lets out has you petting his hair back tenderly.

But all you have to do is give him a minute, kiss and nip gently, lock your legs around him so he can't pull away, until he's pushing his own seed deeper, mindlessly pinning you under his weight. He loves feeling so close to you, so small underneath him. 

The way you feel clenching down on him, moaning for him, begging him to keep going has him rutting into you, following his instincts, brain feeling like it's melting. He's harder than he has ever been, listening to the sound of your wetness slide on him, the mess he’s left between your thighs sounding dirty and sticky. You don't have to tell him to keep rubbing you, grinding your hips into his so he can press into the perfect spot. 

His thumb is rubbing at the very center of you, that tender bud, so sensitive, has you pushed to the edge and falling over, legs locking up behind him, bucking and moaning much too loud. You sink your fingers into the layer of fat over his broad muscles, arching your back, feeling so complete. Seeing you so relaxed, feeling so good because of him makes him push as deep as he can, making your toes curl, forcing more of his cum even deeper, a sloppy wet mess that drips out of you when he pulls out. But he revels in those few moments where he's catching his breath, still so deep inside of you, feeling you pulse on him. 

Arthur can’t not hold you afterwards, unsure what to say. He thinks it might be too soon for I love you, maybe you’ll be scared away by his raw sentiments and his lovesick words. But you stare into his eyes; his heart jumps when he blurts it out in the silence, too late to shut his damn mouth. But you only smile and say you love him too. You're the farthest thing from cold, tucked into his chest, not even noticing that the rain has stopped.

Thank you for reading! SO sorry this ended up being so long. Excited to write more for high honor arthur, this was more fun than i thought... I love him 😔😳

[judes-hoe]

Dad vibes ~ JB5

Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary ~ laying in bed with Jude after the parade, you keep seeing pictures of him on instagram and he looks like a dad which turns you on!

Warnings ~ p in v(unprotected wrap it before ya tap it!!!), breeding kink, belly bulge-ish kink, pregnancy talk!

A/N ~ he was so hot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d stayed home while Jude went to the parade. You had a bunch of things to do around the house and thought it was the perfect time to do them.

You’d seen a few clips here and there of the parade and did Jude looks sexy! He almost reminded you of a dad which kinda turned you on.

Night time rolled around about 10pm. Jude was home and you were both in bed cuddling but on your phones, Jude showing you stuff from the parade here and there. You kept seeing things from the parade and seeing Jude with the glasses and shirt tucked into the pants…it turned you on.

“You looked so hot today” you said putting your phone down kissing Judes chest to get his attentions “yeah?” He smirked at you. “Yup, you almost looked like a dad at a kids party, turned me on a little.” I whispered while kissing his neck now. “You saying you wanna make me a dad?” He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “I mean I wouldn’t complain.” I smirk at him.

Jude was flipping you over so fast. “Darling you’re in for it.” He kissed you neck taking yours(his) shirt off. He attached his mouth to your boobs that was now exposed. “Want me to make you a mommy?” He said his breeding kink now coming into play. “Yes!” You whine.

He smirks and takes your panties off while taking his boxers off. “You thinking about me being a dad got you this wet!” He said looking at your core that’s practically dripping. “Told you it turned me on?” You shrug at him.

He leans down and licks up your slit tasting you, he lets out a groan at your taste. “Fuck you taste better and better every time.” He groaned coming back to kiss you. He took this opportunity to push his cock inside. “Fuck” you moan out feeling the sudden stretch.

He gives you a second before starting to speed up his thrust. “Gonna make you a mommy, fuck a baby into you.” He groans in your ear. “Yes…please!” You moan out scratching at his back. “Get you nice and round in a few months?” He said teasing you as he felt you clench around him at his words. “Right here?” He pushed on your lower stomach making you feel him in your stomach, your eyes fluttered at the feeling.

“Yeah feel me there, that’s were out baby’s gonna be.” He whispered in your ear. You keep clenching around him at his words. “Fuck Jude, gonna cum!” You moan out scratching his back up. “Cum for me baby right behind you.” He said, thrust getting sloppy.

You cum around his cock eyes fluttering, Jude continues his thrust before he does one last deep one. Cumming inside you who’s a low groan and did a few more thrust making sure it stayed before pulling out.

“Did such a good job baby.” he said kissing your forehead before getting up. He went to the bathroom cleaning himself before grabbing a nice warm cloth and coming to wipe you up.

“Did so good.” He said kissing your thighs as he wiped around your pussy and wiped your thighs. “Can’t wait to be a daddy.” He said cuddling you once he put the cloth away. He big spooned you and hand his hands in your stomach. “Gonna be great parents” you said taking his hand and kissing it.

~~~

Few weeks later, here you are in the bathroom with Jude. 2 pregnancy test upside down. “I’m nervous.” You told Jude hands shaking a little. “It’s ok love, we’ll be fine, we’ll be great parents.” He said calmly holding your hands and kissing your head. “Promise.” He whispered.

“They should be ready now” you said looking at Jude. “Well each pick one up ok?” You told him handing him one. “Ok 3….2…1” you said filling it over. Your eyes widen seeing the positive test and you watch Jude’s eyes go wide. “We’re gonna be parents!” He said excitedly hugging you and kissing you repeatedly. “We are.” You said crying a little. “Can’t wait to start a family with you!” He spoke wiping your tears pulling you in a loving kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N ~ hope you enjoyed!!!!

[lionneee]

Aemond’s victory

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: p in v, smut, kissing, taking of sexual themes, chocking, incest, mention of character death, mention of dragon death•

OC!Aemond x Sister!Reader

“Aemond— Someone’s gonna see—“ She mumbled as she gripped the top of the roof wall. Her skirts raised over her waist, bend over the wall, as Aemond kept thrusting slowly, but hard and harshly every time, making her jolt forward at every hit.

“No worries, sister, they’re never gonna see us—“ He growled as he gripped her hips tighter, digging his fingers in her skin.

She grunted as she started hearing the parade getting closer. She looked down at the crowd of people, running to get a look of what was going on.

“Aemond—“ She moaned as she moved one of her hands over his hand.

“Shh, just feel me, sister. Your big brother has returned as a winner, won’t you congratulate him?” He smirked, watching how his cock disappeared between her legs, feeling her wet walls enveloping him, sucking him in.

“Yes—“ She moaned. “Yes I want to—“ She gasped as he moved his hand to grip her shoulder, pushing her back against him, the skin of her ass and thighs moving in waves at the hit, the sounds of skin slapping getting louder, accompanied by the sounds of her wetness.

“I told you I would have celebrated inside you, sister— I always get what I want.” He growled as he started to speed up.

“Oh— Yes, yes, brother— Please—“ She could hear the sound of honks and a bell coming closer.

“Behold!”

“Please? You want to make me feel good, mh?” He started pushing in fast, always harder.

“The traitor dragon Meleys!”

She raised her head immediately, looking down, her eyes meeting the white eyes of Meleys head.

“See what I’ve brought you, sister?” Aemond pushed her forward, forcing her to take a few steps forward, making her straight up a bit. He hugged her from behind, his hips stilling.

“A little spoil from the fight. All for you.” He whispered in her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Rhaenys?” She asked, as she couldn’t tear her gaze off the dragon. He moved his arm around her neck, pulling her back, making her arch her back as he thrusted with force, bending his arm enough to constrain her breathing barely.

She gasped in surprise, wrapping her hands around his arm.

“She’s dead. After how she threatened us— you, at Aegon’s coronation?” He growled. “She brought it upon herself.”

“Slain at Rook’s Rest, by your King.”

Aemond growled as he heard that, and she could feel him thrusting again, his hips hitting her ass with force.

“I killed her.” He growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I killed her for you.” 

His words sent a strange shiver down her back, a mix of concern, affection and lust.

“No one touches you— No one threatens you— My queen.”

Her gaze fell on a little carriage. A big box hidden by clothes, and pieces of clothing.

“Aemond— What happened?” She gasped, trying to turn her head to look at him, but his arm around her neck didn’t allow her.

“I won. That’s what happened.” He hissed in her ear. His hand moved underneath her skirts, reaching the bound of nerves hidden between her legs.

He started caressing it in quick moves.

“And now.” He thrusted harder. “You’re gonna thank me for it.” He pressed his forehead against the back of her head. “You’re gonna come. You’re gonna thank me— come for me—“

“Aemond— Oh— Oh Gods—“ She moaned loudly, clenching around him, feeling the tension in her stomach about to snap.

He had slain a dragon for her.

He moved one head from his arm to reach the back of his head, throwing her head back, exposing her neck to him, making him groan.

“Don’t do that. Don’t. I can’t mark you there, and you know it.” He growled, his voice restrained. “You’re trying to remember me you're not my wife yet? Mh?” She could hear the frustration in his voice, and his words frustrated her too.

“Aemond— I’m gonna come—“ She moaned.

A dragon. For her.

“Come, sister.” He grunted. “Come on my cock, wet it all over—“ 

He kept pushing and pushing, thrusting as fast and hard as he could, trying to bring her over the edge, to make her come hard.

“Oh Gods— Aemond…” She moaned loudly, panting for air as she felt the tension in her stomach snap, coming with a loud grunt, her legs shaking, as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her.

“Yes— Yes, Aemond- Oh, it’s so good—“ She moaned as Aemond let go of her, taking a step back to pull out.

“On your knees.” He ordered immediately. She quickly turned around, falling to her knees. He gripped her hair, yanking her closer, jerking himself fast as his sperm spilled on her tongue and face, his hand too.

As they walked into the King chambers, she was met with a horrifying view.

Aegon, burned, laying on his bed, the Maesters all around him, trying to peel off the armor from his skin.

Their mother looking from afar, her expression contorted in a mixture of uneasy from the smell and sight, and concern for her son.

Aemond stepped in front of the bed, looking down at his brother as he leaned towards the bed structure.

She knew that look.

And recognising it now, with their brother reduced like that, she couldn’t tell if it was good or not.

She saw that look the night he returned after Storm’s End.

When he killed Luke. 

That night, he was sorry, he felt guilty, despite that, she could tell he was satisfied, no matter how guilty what he did made him feel.

There was no guilt in that look.

Just pride and satisfaction.

“Gōntan gaomā bisa naejot zirȳla, lēkia?” 

-Did you do this, brother?-

She asked, looking at him from his side. She could feel the gaze of their mother on her, desperately trying to catch something of their words. Not that she would have understood them anyway.

“Iksis ziry daor īlva kȳvanon? syt nyke naejot sagon dārys, Se ao, ñuha dāria? ñuha ābrazȳrys?” He answered, his eye never leaving Aegon.

-Is it not our plan? For me to be king, and you, my queen? My wife?-

“Ossēnagon īlva dārys kessa gaomagon īlva daor sȳz.”

-Kill our king will do us no good.-

She said, frustrated. If Aemond committed treason, all would be lost.

“Iā mittys hen iā dārys.”

-A fool of a king.-

He replied coldly.

“Iēdrosa īlva dārys.”

-Still our king.-

She sighed, looking at Aegon again. She couldn’t deny his words, nor blame him for wanting to speed up the process, having gotten the opportunity. 

“Mh.” He simply replied. She knew he was well aware of what he risked. She trusted Criston to not say a word about what he did, but she was still scared someone else might. He turned his head to look at her, his single eye burning in hers.

“Gaomagon daor zūgagon, mandia.  Kostā pāsagon nyke.  Kesi jiōragon skoros jaeli”

-Do not fear, sister. You can trust me. We will get what we want.-

It was a promise. He will take care of her.

She took a deep breath and simply nodded, as Aemond gaze returned to their brother.

“Someone-” He straightened up. “- will have to rule on his stead.” He looked at their mother.

Just the idea sent a spark of lust down her body, and she had to clench her thighs together.

Aemond looked at her with a smirk before walking out.

Him. King.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95

[cal-flakes]

can i pls see gun kink thoughts with rafe. real coked out and crazy, choking u with the barrel 😋

is this deranged ? probs? love u the mostest!!

it is deranged. but i also fucking love it. so maybe we are deranged. i adore u — also, i unfortunately get off on edging you mf’s so please don’t hate me when it cuts off.

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’think you’re the boss huh? parading yourself around in those little skirts? infront of my friends?” he spat, grip tight on your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. you attempted to shake your head, yet winced as his hold only got firmer.

rafe pushed you backwards as he let go of your cheeks, leaving you to land on the couch. your glassy eyes followed him as he paced the room— eyes frantic, pupils blown; the obvious reasoning for his unreasonable reaction to you and your usual attire.

“the fuck am i gonna do with you?” he muttered, running a hand over his buzzed head. his eyes fell on the bottom drawer of the television cabinet, causing him to stop still while his glare fell back towards you. “c’mere” he ordered, voice low and raspy as his hand beckoned you over lazily.

eager to please him, you found yourself under rafe’s sadistic gaze once more. “rafe i’m—“

“do you trust me?” he interrupted, words harsh and laced with mixed emotion. you weren’t sure what he wanted to hear, especially not when he’s like this. opting for the obvious— you nodded eagerly, peering up at him, yet frowned as he stepped passed. you watched intently as his hand dipped into the drawer, pulling out a familiar piece of heavy metal. “knees, now”

doing as you’re told, you lowered yourself in front of him, as well as your gaze— ashamed of the wetness growing between your thighs. “you’re gonna show me jus’ how much you respect me” he smirked, turning round fully to present his idea.

peering up at him, you felt your core ache for it. it was wrong— so wrong in so many ways, and yet you wanted to completely surrender to him. pulling a plump lip between your teeth, you nodded��� readjusting yourself in preparation.

“tha’s it— you want me to teach y’some respect kid?” he chuckled, feeling a complete lack of surprise at your willingness. “yes”

“yes what?” he sneered, toying with the gun. you watched as his slender fingers worked the metal so carelessly— fiddling with the safety. falling into such admiration, you almost didn’t realise the light slap that blushed it’s way across your cheek. “hey— speak when spoken to kid”

“i— yes, yes sir” you whimpered.

“y’shouldn’t trust me, y’know. who knows, might blow your pretty little brains out all over the rug” he hummed, dragging the barrel of the cool metal down your cheek, tauntingly. “open your mouth for me doll”

[jjsbaby]

rafe wouldn’t say he’s a jealous person. cause he’s not! he’s protective maybe but jealous is a stretch. but still. here he is staring at you while you chat up some pogue.

rafe sees the guy place a hand on your waist and that’s when he loses it. he completely forgets about whatever the fuck topper is talking to him about and storms over to you.

“hi rafey!” you greet him, genuinely clueless about what’s going on. “i missed you!” you look up towards him, seeing him shooting daggers at the poor boy who made the mistake of flirting with you. “get your fucking hands off her and maybe i’ll pay you five bucks to clean the room when im done with her.”

you look at him for a moment, shock etched across your features. “rafe?” he looks down at you, a dark look in his eyes as he puts his hands on your waist. “can’t just let anyone touch you, ya know? what’re people gonna think hm?” he grabs your chin and pulls you into his space, making eye contact while his lips hover above yours. it’s not a violent movement in itself, but it is intoxicating.

he leads you up the stairs, a tight grip on your waist as he parades you around. “gonna have to show everyone who you belong to, babe. can’t have any of these idiots thinking that they have a chance.” he growls into your ear, leading you into a bathroom and caging you against the sink.

as soon as the door shuts, his mouth is on you. practically devouring everything he can while his grip only tightens. you lean over to lock the door but before you have the opportunity, he grabs your hand and holds it behind you. “nah, leave it unlocked.” he says before turning you around and pushing your back down against the sink counter. you’re watching him in the mirror as he slaps your ass as he pulls your dress up.

“you always get this wet with me baby?” he asks cockily, knowing the answer. you whine as you feel him trail a finger down your slit over your underwear. he leans down as he pulls them down your legs, letting his breath run over your pussy. you shiver slightly before you feel him spit on it. “fuck rafe.” you jump slightly, your legs twitching with anticipation. “what? you don’t like it?” he asks, faux sympathy in his voice as you can hear his belt hit the ground.

you feel him thrust into you with no warning and you whine, your chest dropping to the counter as you push back to meet his thrusts. he speeds up and you throw your head back in a moan. “this is what that dirty pogue could never do. i-i’m the only one that can slut you out like this.” he grunts, some of the words fading out as he fucks into you.

“god rafe, yes! you’re the only one ever!” you can see his smirk in the mirror as he grabs onto your hips and pulls you into him, making him go deeper everytime. “let everyone hear then. tell them all how good daddy fucks you.” he groans out, feeling you tighten around him as he speaks. “rafe-fuck. daddy! ‘m gonna cum please please.” you moan as you try and make eye contact with him through the mirror.

he can feel you tightening around him as you get closer and he picks up the pace. he begins circling your clit, leaning down to speak in your ear. “cum for me. show me how good i fuck you.” he growls before straightening back up. he continues for a moment before your release comes. you scream out his name, louder than the music outside and that’s enough for him.

rafe pumps into you a couple of times before his release hits him too. he finishes inside of you, allowing his cum to coat your walls. he leans down and leaves a chaste kiss on your shoulder, signaling that he’s done as he leans down and helps you put your underwear back on. “don’t lose any.” he says when you stand all the way back up. he turns you towards him and kisses you for a moment, holding your throat to keep you in place.

[vampireimiko]

i loved your most recent steve work! i was wondering if i could request an eddie work similar to that where the hellfire club just doesn’t believe that he could have a gf

Full of Surprises

warnings, none! note, this was fun to write !! also i didn't include the whole hellfire club i didn't feel like writing the extras in💔

"Eddie, you expecting a call or something? You keep staring at the phone like a maniac." Mike pointed out.

"You noticed too?! I didn't wanna say anything but holy shit, every few seconds he stares at it." Dustin agrees.

Eddie rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah I'm uh, just waiting on my girlfriend to call." he muttered, his tone nonchalant, but the room instantly fell into a stunned silence.

Mike’s eyes widened. “Girlfriend?”

Dustin snorted, crossing his arms. “Sure, Eddie. And I’m dating Madonna.”

Eddie shot them both an annoyed glance. “I’m serious.”

The skepticism in the air was palpable. Lucas raised an eyebrow from across the room, tossing a pencil onto the table. “Eddie Munson... with a girlfriend? That’s rich.”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked, defensively, leaning forward.

Dustin shrugged, an innocent grin on his face. "C'mon, man. If you had a girlfriend, we would’ve heard about it by now."

"And met her," Lucas added.

Eddie groaned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Not everything revolves around you guys, y’know. Some relationships are private."

Dustin, Lucas, and Mike exchanged skeptical glances before bursting into laughter. "Yeah, right! What, does she go to another school or something?" Mike teased.

"Yeah there's no way in hell Eddie Munson gets bitches." Dustin laughed.

"Well news flash, Dusty boy! I do infact gets bitches. Not that my girlfriends a bitch or anything." He said adding that last part very quickly. Even though you weren't there, he'd never disrespect you like that or in any way for that matter.

Dustin raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, so you get bitches. Prove it."

"Yeah, let’s see some evidence," Lucas added with a smirk. "I mean, it’s kinda hard to believe when we’ve never even seen her. Is she invisible or something?"

Eddie huffed, tapping his fingers on the table, clearly annoyed but trying to keep his cool. "She’s not some trophy I need to parade around, alright? She’s busy. She’s got... a job! School stuff too."

"Uh-huh, and I’m guessing she also lives in Canada and only writes letters?" Mike quipped, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

Eddie sighed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. "Fine! You wanna meet her so bad? She’ll come by Hellfire next week."

Dustin raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Oh, really? Can’t wait."

"Yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Now enough about his imaginary girlfriend, I'm hungry." Mike interrupted.

The next week couldn’t have come fast enough for the Hellfire boys. The anticipation was thick in the air as they sat around the table, pretending to focus on the campaign, but their eyes constantly darted to the door. Even Eddie, who usually basked in his Dungeon Master role with enthusiasm, seemed a little distracted, checking his watch more than usual.

Dustin nudged Lucas under the table. “You think he’s actually gonna pull through? Or are we about to witness the most embarrassing bluff in Hellfire history?”

Lucas smirked. “I dunno, man. He’s been pretty confident. It’s either the truth, or he’s about to go down in flames.”

The whole week leading up to this very moment, Eddie talked about you to the guys. They obviously did not believe him one bit. Eddie had told them about some of your hobbies, favorite movies, he was even close to telling them where you worked but quickly decided against that.

They always asked him to just give out your name, but then they'd know who you were obviously. Eddie wanted to keep a little bit of mystery surrounding your identity. News flash, you were a quite known person at Hawkins High.

"Can't wait to see him squirm either way," Mike added with a grin.

Eddie, sensing their whispers, glared across the table. “You know, you guys are real supportive friends.”

“We’re just preparing for disappointment, Eddie,” Dustin shot back, hands raised. “Don’t take it personally.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, there was a knock on the door. The room fell silent, and all eyes shot toward the entrance. Eddie’s cocky grin returned as he stood up, walking over to the door with a confidence that even had Dustin second-guessing his skepticism.

He swung the door open, and there she was—you. Dressed casually, you gave Eddie a warm smile before stepping into the room, completely unaware of the stunned expressions plastered across the faces of his friends.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie greeted you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Told you I wasn’t making her up.”

The room was deathly quiet, the boys blinking in disbelief as you walked further into the room.

Mike was the first to break the silence. “Holy shit. Y/N Y/LN?

You laughed softly, glancing at Eddie before turning back to the group. “I take it he’s been bragging about me?”

“More like we didn’t believe you existed,” Lucas admitted, still wide-eyed. "Much less did we expect the girlfriend to be you?!"

Dustin was still frozen, mouth hanging open in shock. “Eddie... how?”

Eddie grinned smugly, draping an arm around your shoulders. “Told you, Dustin. I get bitches. Not that I'm calling you a bitch." He quickly clarified, knowing you didn't tolerate any type of getting called out of your name.

You playfully elbowed him in the side. “I know you'd never do anything like that."

Eddie chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.”

"Anyway, nice to meet you guys! I've seen you around and Eddie talks about you guys all the time." You exclaimed cheerfully, extending a hand to the nearest person to you, which happened to be Mike.

Mike, still in shock, shook your hand cautiously, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. “Uh, nice to meet you too…”

Lucas stood up, still blinking. “Okay, I have to ask—how the hell did Eddie Munson land a girlfriend like you?”

You laughed, glancing over at Eddie with a playful smile. “What can I say? He’s full of surprises.”

Eddie grinned proudly, leaning against you. “See? Told you guys. I’m not just some lonely metalhead.”

Dustin finally regained his composure, shaking his head. “This has to be some kind of cosmic glitch. I mean, Y/N Y/LN... and Eddie Munson? Something isn't right."

Lucas nodded in agreement, still processing. “Seriously, I gotta know—what did he say to win you over?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Well, he didn’t try too hard, if that’s what you’re thinking. Eddie’s actually... kind of sweet once you get past all the theatrics.”

Eddie gave a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. Theatrics are part of the charm.”

You giggled and gave him a loving look.

Mike snorted. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure out what charm you’re talking about.”

Eddie shot Mike a look, then turned back to you, clearly soaking in the validation. “See what I deal with?”

You shook your head, laughing. “They’re not so bad, Eddie. Just a little... doubtful.” You glanced at the group, your expression softening.

Dustin nodded. “You’re like, Hawkins royalty compared to... well, Eddie.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Eddie a curious look. “Royalty, huh?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but you could tell he secretly liked the sound of it. “They exaggerate. A lot.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Well, royalty or not, he’s good to me. And that’s what matters.”

Mike finally cracked a grin. “Alright, alright. Maybe you’re not completely full of shit, Eddie.”

Dustin laughed, pointing a finger. “Still can’t believe it though. You lucked out, Munson.”

Eddie smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Told you, man. I’m full of surprises.”

additional note ! my requests are open if you wanna have me write something<3

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[jyoongim]

the wheel has chosen

🥁🥁🥁

🔴 prompt #3 and 19!!!

prompt 3, #19 Mild sexual tension, high emotion: fixes makeup for them

Alastor had invited you on an outing with him.

You had got all pretty and was enjoying yourself.

Your hair was curled to perfection, makeup was popping, and you wore the cutest outfit.

Alastor thought you were gorgeous.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Especially your pouty lips that were painted a lovely shade of red.

The two of you stopped by Rosie’s and the tall woman cooed over you, chastising Alastor for keeping a pretty thing all to himself.

”Come now Alastor she’s way to young for you” she teased making you blush and Alastor roll his eyes.

He had business with Rosie today and left you to roam about her emporium.

Rosie had offered you to taste anything that caught your fancy and give your opinions.

”Now Alastor I know you dont parade around with a pretty thing like that unless you like her” Rosie smiled as she caught the Overlord watching you, tasting a sample of butter fingers.

Alastor cleared his throat, turning his attention to his friend.

”She’s more tolerable to be around than most” he commented making Rosie hum as she sipped her tea.

”Uh huh. Then why your eyes tracking her? I know a man fancying a lady when I see one”

His ears flickered. Did he like you? He did find you quite fascinating. You weren’t scared of him like most and you carried yourself with grace.

You were passionate and very stubborn.

He liked having you around and often looked for you when he wanted to go out. He even bought you things when you expressed an interest in them.

”sooo when you gonna tell her?” That made him blink

He tilted his head in confusion.

Rosie huffed “You better tie her down. Pretty girl like that, I’m sure she’s got plenty of demons looking to sweep her off her feet” 

He bristled. No one was better for you than him.

Alastor bid Rosie a goodbye and looped his arm with yours to head back to the hotel. You must have indulge in some goodies as your lipstick was now gone.

”Dear your lipstick is gone” he said, making you gasp as you pulled out your compact to look at your makeup. You pouted and pulled out your lipstick, blinking when he took the tube and cradled your chin, tilting it up to him.

”allow me”

His eyes traced the red as it painted your lips red.

It matched his attire well.

It truly was a lovely color on you.

”There” you rubbed your lips together and smiled at him.

”Thank you Al”

He nodded and the two of you continued on your way.

He wondered how that shade would look smeared.

[luvyeni]

MAKE YOU MINE ,, 정성찬

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ jung sungchan x fem!reader wc. 3k

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... age gap relationship ( not chan and reader but it is legal but toxic ), sungchans dad is horrible, cheating ( it's justifiable in my eyes ), oral sex , unprotective sex ,

「 authors note 𖹭 」 the first cheating fic where i don't feel dirty 😭

❪ masterlist! ❫

“you are one lucky fucking bastard sungchan i swear.” he came down the stairs to his friends staring out his window into his backyard.

“what are you talking abo…” he trailed off. “is she out there again?” he sighed. “bro she does this often?” shotaro slapped wonbins shoulder. “bro , i told you we should come over often.” sungchan scoffed; even though his eyes copied theirs and they now were all staring out the huge back door window— where you were sitting by the pool that left nothing to the imagination. “this makes me want to kill your dad for some reason.”

sohees words shook him right out of his thoughts. “stop looking.” he said , closing the curtains, making his friends groan. “now why would you do that?” eunseok asked. “cause of my dad comes home and finds you oogling his fucking girlfriend, he's gonna kick you out and give me shit for it.” he said. “and that's the last thing i need.”

“how’d your dad bag a hottie like that?” seunghan asked the question that he wondered everyday. “she's young and hot and your dad is well old and a little funny looking if you ask me.” wonbin said. “money obviously, it's the only thing he has going for him.” he said. “his attitude is shit, he treats her like shit; parades her around like a prize winning puppy and then leaves her here for me to take care of.” he said. “seems like you're living the dream, why are you upset?”

“what do you mean living the dream?” he questioned his friend. “you mean to tell me you never made a move on her?” shotaro asked surprised. “no.” his friends were shocked. “you, jung sungchan never tried to fuck her?” he was confused. “and risk her telling my dad? he'd have my fucking neck.” he said. “look at that.” eunseok was peeking through the curtains, you were floating around on the floaty, reading a book. “fuck, it would be a risk i’m willing to take.”

you finished your book for the day, floating back to the side of the pool, climbing out. you gathered everything you had out there, wrapping your body in your robe, making your way to the house.

“oh hi yn.” anton was the first to notice you. “hi.” you smiled, sungchan watching the guys look at you; with the look in their eyes, the same look they gave girls in the club or at school, and it pissed him off. “already all of you time to go.” he pushed them out. “you have your owns and families to terrorize, leave now.” they all groaned, you laughed watch as the boy pushed them right out the front door. “bye yn!”

the door closed, and you began to make your way up the steps. “you need to stop dressing like that when the boys are over, i told you this already.” he said. “but i covered this time.” you said, he looked at your pathetic excuse of a cover up, he could still see your pink bathing suit that did a piss poor job at covering your tits. “look when they look at you they don't see the girl dating my dad.” he said. “they see the girl their age lounging around half naked by the pool , and that makes their brains go haywire.” he said. “oh right.”

“im sorry.” you frowned, he felt bad, you were constantly being scolded by his dad, he didn't want to be the one either. “look, it's fine.” he sighed. “just put on a bathing suit that covers your boobs at least next time , go out some clothes on and i’ll order some dinner.” you nodded , walking up the steps, he let out a little smile as he watched you bounce up the steps.

“do you know when your dad will be back?” you picked at the food he put on your food. ‘probably screwing the next young girl’ he thought. “he said he would be on a work trip for a little longer.” he said, you sighed. “you think he's cheating on me?”

did you really care for his dad? “i don't know.” he said. “I know you probably think i'm with him for the money, but i really do like him.” you said. “well i did.” his ears perked up. “did?” he said. “he's so mean now, yelling at me, pushing me around only using me when he needs to save face.” you frowned, tears streaming down your face. “and then shoving his card in my face to shut me up, i feel like a live in prostitute.”

“why won't you leave them?” he asked, reaching over to wipe your face, your eyes widened at the sudden affection. “because i think maybe one day he'll change.” you said. “but i don't think it will, will it?” he didn't know what to say. “im sorry yn.” you shook your head. “no it's not your fault.” you stood up from the table. “he's the evil, not you.” you smiled sadly. “maybe it would've been better if i just dated you instead.”

that stayed in his head all night as he made his way to his room; leaving the plates for the cleaners to clean. “yn?” he knocked on the bedroom door you shared with his dad, but he didn't get an answer, he slowly opened the door, your sleeping body laid peacefully. he was about to close the door when you turned on your side , facing him, still sleeping; but the covers had fallen off of you, revealing your body; you were wearing nothing but thin tank top and some panties; he knew it was weird, but you did look so pretty.

you let out a huff of air, he quickly shut the door, sighing, making his way back to his room, closing the door. “shit.” he sat on his bed; hands in his head, his head spinning with his newest revelation, and his newest visual of you— his cock stirring in his shorts, he took his shirt off the heat radiating from his body being too much.

he laid in bed , his head against the headboard as his hands traveled down his chest , down to his shorts, he groaned as he began to palm himself. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling himself from his shorts , his cock bobbing against his stomach.

he held his hard cock in his hand, squeezing the base of his length, biting his lip as he stroked his cock up and down, his tip leaking with precum he used to wet his cock. “oh fuck.” he moaned; his thoughts going straight to you in your bathing suit, you looked so hot; he hated he had to scold you for wearing it.

his hips snapping up into his hand; squeezing his balls, as he worked himself towards his orgasm. he couldn't help it, all he could do was think about you, your lips, your body, your smile; god your smile turned him on so much, he wondered how your mouth would feel stuff full of his cock. “oh fuck yn.” he moaned out your name, his length twitching in his hand. “fuck im gonna cum.” he threw his head back as the cum shot out from his cock , hitting his chest , covering his hand.

he let his flaccid cock sit on his stomach as he came down from his high, the post nut clarity hitting; this was gonna be last time you ever jerked off to the fleeting thoughts of you; he was going turn the thoughts about fucking you into a reality; he was gonna make sure you never cried about his dumbass dad… he was gonna take you away from him.

you woke up the next morning; head hurting from crying, getting dressed for the day, before making your way downstairs, where people were rushing back and forth, which only meant one thing, he was back. “where is she?”

you walked into the kitchen. “there she is sir.” his assistant pointed to you. “is this what you do everyday sleeping in?” you sighed. “well you don't let me go to school, what else am i supposed to do?” you never talked back, afraid of what he might do. “and what would a pretty dumb thing like you do in school?”

“god dad you really know how to show your love.” sungchan came into the kitchen; he was shirtless, his abs on display, they were so much better to look at than your boyfriend's alcoholic belly. “good morning.” he smiled at you, which came to a surprise since you often never saw a smile from him unless his friends were over. “m-morning.”

“i told you about dressing appropriately while he was here.” he grabbed your arm , pulling you close to him, gritting through his teeth. “i-i just woke up, he normally doesn't get up this early.” you stuttered , sungchan watching it go down angrily. “you're such an embarrassment.” he shoved you away, taking his card out his wallet and throwing it on the table. “go get a new wardrobe.” he said, his assistant coming in. “where are you going?” you asked. “to make money so the both of you can lay around and spend it.”

“sir we have to go.” he rushed out, his team following behind him; not even muttering a goodbye or even a i love you. “you okay?” sungchan came up from behind, wrapping a comforting arm around you. “ye-yeah i'm fine.” you could feel his warm skin on yours. “what about you, you okay?” he scoffed. “please I've been called a lazy bum by that man since 4th grade.” he flagged it off. “doesn't make it right.” he watched you open the fridge grabbing a water bottle. you were right, that's why he was gonna fix it. “I'm gonna go get dressed.” you said , leaving the card. “what about this?”

“i don't want his money.” you said, he picked up the card. “i say we take it and spend as much money as the bank allows.” he smirked. “you deserve it after the shit he puts you through.” you thought about it, you did deserve it, you were tired of putting up with his shit. “let's go.” he chuckled, shaking his head as you excitedly ran up the stairs.

and spend his money you both did, both of you going into multiple different stores just buying anything your hearts wanted; even going as far as to buy things just because you picked it up; it was fun, sungchan was fun to be around actually, and not the little ingrate his father made him out to be. half way through your trip, you actually began to think again— what would've happened if you did end up dating him and not his dad?

you dropped the bags on the floor of the house , sungchan holding at least twenty on his arms, that didn't even count the ones in his car. “did we over do it?” you bit your lip nervously. “he's gonna be so mad.” he scoffed. “nothing compared to what im about to do with my online purchases.” you laughed. “we can have someone bring these to your room, go ahead and shower whatever and i’ll order dinner, steak?” you squint your eyes in suspicion. “you don't eat steak on a random sunday.” he smiled. “you ever seen how expensive they are?” you shook your head, making your way up the stairs— his mind was made up, he was doing this tonight.

“let's watch a movie.” he said after dinner. “me and you?” you questioned. “yeah, you wanna?” you nodded. “yes.” he smiled. “good, let's go.”

he guided you to the living room; you sat on the big couch, he sat directly next to you, knees touching. “what do you want to watch?” you shrugged. “anything is fine.” you replied. “you got a favorite movie?” you nodded. “i love the princess diaries.” he stared blankly. “we don't have to watch it.” he shook his head. “no I asked, i brought it on myself, let's find the princess diaries.”

sungchan wasn't paying attention to the movie; you were halfway through and he couldn't tell you anything about it; but he could tell you in full detail of your face, every blemish, every scar he could tell you. “you aren't watching this, are you?” you asked , turning to him. “no im so sorry.” he said. “i can see why you like it, but yn i don't think i can watch the second one.” you were too busy laughing to even hear his excuses. “it's okay, we can watch what you want to watch.”

“what if i want to watch you instead?” you lowered your head to conceal your smile. “that's boring no? he shook his head. “with how pretty you are? no.” he could see you liked that. “god you're smiling so hard , he never complimented you like that?” you shook your head. “jesus , he's fucking blind if he doesn't think so.”

before you could say anything, his lips were on yours; his hands on the side of your face, holding you in place, lowing you down on the couch. “wa-wait.” you pulled away breathless. “we can't do this, chan im with your dad.” he scoffed, hovering above you. “and how is that going for you?” he kissed your neck, your hand came up to his hair. “come on yn.” he was slotted in between your legs, giving him access to grind his pelvis into you. “su-sungchan.” you whimpered.

“let me make you feel so much better.” he lifted your shirt over your head , kissing down the valley of your breast. “way better than he ever made you feel.” he kissed your waistband, coming back up to your face to kiss you. “let me touch you.” he squeezed your boob. “fuck you.” you moaned, he smirked. “you like that?” he teased. “you want me to fuck you?” you nodded. “y-yes.”

“good girl.” he sat back, pulling his shirt off, your eyes scanning his abs. “you like?” he questioned. “you were staring at them this morning, right in front of him, like you didn't even care that he was there.” you felt his hand grabbing the waistband of your shorts , pulling them down. “such a pretty body , god my dad is so fucking stupid.” he got in between your legs, holding your legs over his shoulders. “gonna eat this pretty pussy.” he kissed in between your thighs.

“fuck you smell good.” he pulled your panties to the side, your glistening folds, sweet scent; you whimpered about to beg him to do something before he licked a strip up your folds. “ch-chan.” you moaned out hands threading in his hairs, yanking it as he made out with your cunt, drowning himself in you, it was better than anything he'd tasted before.

“fuck!” you yelped as he suck on your sensitive clit. “chan i'm gonna cum.” you felt his tongue going in and out of you, he was moaning against your heat, like he was getting more pleasure out of it than you were. “fuck im cumming.” he pulled away catching his breath, before licking you clean. “ch-chan.”

he pulled away , wiping his mouth with a smirk. “fuck eating this pussy is gonna be my new pass time.” he pulled his pants down. “you want my cock baby?” he stroked himself lining up to your entrance, he was much bigger to what you were used to. “it's not gonna fit.” he hissed, you were so cute, it made him just want to stretch you full of his cock inside you. “fuck baby, we'll make it fit.”

holding your legs still, pushing himself inside your warm cunt. “oh fuck you're so tight.” he hissed, your cunt sucking him in. “old man must've not been fucking you right , this pussy feels like it hasn't been touched in a long time.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy, he had never felt like this before; he was about to cum before he could even fuck you.

“deeper ch-chan.” your nails dug into his arms as he fully seethed himself inside you. “fuck baby you feel that.” he brought your hand to your stomach a small bump forming. “that's me right there, i'm in your tummy right now.” you moaned. “please fuck me, make me forget him.”

that's all he needed before pulling out. “gonna make sure you never want to fuck that old man again.” he slammed back inside you. “shit!” held your hands above your head as he repeatedly slammed inside you, repeating his name over and over, moaning in his ear , you felt like heaven around him. “fuck princess , this pussy is molding to my cock.” he cursed. “fuck chan.”

“this is my pussy now.” he grunted, “you're mines , gonna take care of you.” he let your hands go, they flew to his back, scratching him up. “fuck that bastard.” you moaned out. “gonna cum chan.” he reached in between your bodies, rubbing your clit. “cum for me.”

he felt your legs shaking, cunt tightening around him. “oh fuck love you're squeezing my dick, gonna cum inside you.” his thrust started to falter. “gonna cum baby.” he stilled himself inside you , his cum shooting inside of you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt him empty himself inside you. “good girl.”

…

“your dad must've been fucking pissed.” sungchan shrugged. “what's he gonna do.” he smirked. “take your ass right out the will.” shotaro said. “yeah? and have to tell everyone what happened? yeah no he'd never face embarrassment.”

“sungchan!” he smiled hearing your voice, you'd become much happier since that day, gaining all your confidence back , even started attending college again; all thanks to sungchan. “hey baby.” you ran into his arms, sitting down next to him , waving hello to all his friends. “what are you guys talking about?” sungchan kissing the side of your head.

“how i took you from my dad.”

©LUVYENI

[khuzena]

Fable

Pairing: Sunday x gn!reader

cw: themes of religion, emotional turmoil, mental health struggles, sin and redemption.

Synopsis: In a world engulfed with sin, Sunday feels as if there's no difference between him and the lowly sinners he preaches to. A stark irony in his thoughts and the cross that lay heavy on his chest, a preacher of Aeon Xipe, yet a damned fool that longs for a sinner. He offers redemption as if it's cheap since it only asks faith as its payment. However, the sinner he longs for has no ounce of faith in their soul. In the end, he could only sing praises— if only attaining salvation was so easy.

A/N: GUESS WHO'S BACK (no one remembers me) but I'm here to deliver angst anyways bc fuck this shit. My writing is shitty so bear with me. :(((

“Repent, sinner.” Sunday whispered as he held your hand, “Repent.”

"Sunday— let go” you drawled, voice dripping with shame. You leaned against the wall, the smoke from your cigarette curling lazily through the dim air, mingling with the stale scent of cheap perfume and old upholstery. The brothel was alive with murmured laughter and low music, the worn-out couches and faded curtains casting long shadows in the flickering amber light. Your skin was drenched in sweat, your head riddled in shame as your clothes lay bare on the floor. You've just finished servicing a client yet Sunday's invaded unknown territory; to save you, maybe.

The priest’s eyes swept the room, narrowing as if each detail confirmed his worst suspicions. His mouth twisted in a thin line of disgust as he clutched his Bible close to his chest, as if bracing himself against the "unclean" aura around him. The expression in his eyes was soft, painful—a thousand sermons held back by a single withering look.

“Please,” he said, voice clipped. “You know this isn't the answer— it's never too late.”

“Just go,” you replied, frowning without your usual certain devil-may-care charm. You let sin consume you, as it's all you've ever known. “But you’re right, Father. It's never too late for others but I'm a lost cause.”

You trail off, the musky aroma of carnal desire in the room intoxicating his ‘pure’ soul, “You're gonna save me? With what, exactly? A sermon? A confession?”

“Redemption.” He said the word as if it could wash the room clean. “Even someone like you—someone who parades their sin as if it’s a crown—you could still be saved. Even now.”

You laughed, the sound echoing off the peeling walls, more haunting than humorous. “Saved? By what, exactly? A few Hail Marys and a scolding?” You looked him up and down, that faint amusement never leaving your eyes. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs saving. Ever thought of that?”

Sunday's face darkened, his fingers tracing the edge of his Bible like it was a weapon rather than a shield. “You speak of kindness, yet you live without a shred of humility or grace. Do you really think there’s peace in… in this?” He gestured around the room, lips curling in contempt. “All I see is emptiness masquerading as freedom.”

Your eyes narrowed, your smile fading. “Freedom?” You flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching it drift to the floor like grey snowflakes. “Tell me, Father, when was the last time you felt free?” You crawled to him as he sat on the stained sheets, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath, the faint scent of smoke and cheap perfume mixing with the cold edge of his cologne. “You clutch that Bible like it’s a cage, not a comfort. You come here, looking down on us from your self-righteous mountain, but you’re the one running. From what, exactly?”

He stiffened, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if you’d struck a nerve. “I serve the Lord,” he said, voice quivering with a mixture of conviction and something darker, something unsettled. “I bring light to places that have forgotten it. I offer hope to the lost.”

You smirked, unbothered. “Hope, is it? Funny, you seem more scared than hopeful. You think that because I don’t kneel and grovel that I must be empty, but I don’t need your god to tell me right from wrong. I may be a ‘sinner’ in your eyes, but I don’t preach peace and then threaten damnation. I help the lost here, too, in my own way—without the guilt. And without shame.”

For a moment, his composure slipped, a crack appearing in the stone-cold mask he wore. He looked at you—really looked at you—as if seeing past the lipstick and the smoke to something rawer, something he couldn’t name.

“Kindness without repentance is hollow,” he muttered, almost to himself, fingers ghosting over the cross around his neck. His eyes betray his actions, he can't admit that he loves a sinner like you.

“And blind faith without understanding is cruelty,” you shot back, your voice like a knife through the heavy air. “You think kindness is something you hand down from on high, something earned by prayers and purity. But look around, Father. These people don’t need sermons. They need food, a place to sleep—a little mercy, not lectures.”

He opened his mouth, as if to counter, but words seemed to fail him. Instead, his face twisted, half pity, half frustration. “I’ll… pray for you.”

A dry laugh escapes you, a hollow sound in the oppressive quiet. “Pray for yourself, Father. You’re the one who seems lost here.”

“I just want to save you,” He reiterates, his eyes gleaming with desperation, “Please, just repent. There's always a place for you in the church”

An airy scoff escapes your lips as you smack his hand away, “A place for me? A place for a sin laden person like me?”

A pregnant silence filled the room, he clutched the cross on his neck. There must be an answer, and if there isn't, he'll make you one. His free hand reaches into his pocket, you feel a beaded bracelet rest onto your wrist. It's heavy, so heavy.

“What are you doing to me?”

“I just want to save you,” his hands trembled in sync with the flickering candle light, “Just listen to me.”

“Stop, stop—” no matter how many times you plead him to stop acting so pathetic, he implores mercy for you. The sacred bracelet on your wrist is a testament to his love and his faith— one you could never share.

Sunday vowed himself to never step into the walls of pleasure as they're the home to lust, they're home to fools who seek salvation in sex. Yet, he's here. He's here to seek salvation for you. He brought Xipe’s presence into the home of the devil, in hopes to coerce you to the brighter side.

His presence in this brothel feels like an enigma, he doesn't belong here.

“I don't want you to rot in hell,” he trails off, kissing your knuckles, “I’ve never felt this before— Xipe owns my body, my soul.”

Why does his touch feel so addicting compared to the touches of far fairer men than him?

His wings droop onto his shoulders, your clothes on the floor reflecting on his shiny halo but he doesn't budge. He doesn't want to leave you here, he knows your heart is kind, yet your body's defiled— he’s determined that he'll cleanse you, he'll cleanse you of this sin.

He presses his lips again to your knuckles, “Why do you have to be so difficult?” He mutters to himself as his sacred tears paint your tainted skin.

Xipe may own every fibre of his being, but you've taken his very soul, you've stolen it with every scornful laugh, every unrepentant sin. THEY have save you, THEY need to save you—

However, when he stares back into the abyss in your eyes, he knows you're long forsaken by their blessings.

When you don't recite the verses escaping his lips, he realises you're a lost cause.

Please, Xipe. Please do something about them—

If that's not enough, he's brought jar filled with ash.

“That's enough Sunday—”

“It's not.”

His words sunk low as he turned more desperate than a man faced with death. For you to die and rot in hell is death in itself.

You should run away, you should push him away.

You should throw him back to the cathedral he preaches in.

But a part of you wants saving.

A part of you long to be in the same world he is, in body and soul and in every prayer recited.

But you can’t.

With trembling hands, Sunday brought his fingers to the jar of ash he'd clutched as if it held the very essence of Xipe himself. His touch was reverent, fingers dipping into the blackened dust as he leaned forward, his face a mask of fevered determination. His breath was ragged, each exhale brushing against your skin like a ghost's touch, hovering close as he traced the symbol of harmony on your forehead.

The ash was cold and heavy against your skin, spreading like a dark stain over the sweat still clinging to you from moments before. Sunday’s fingers shook as he sketched each line, each curve, his brows furrowing as if with each stroke he could carve Xipe’s mercy into your very soul. His lips moved soundlessly, chanting prayers, pleading with his god to see you—to reach you. His eyes glistened, holding a desperation so raw it felt as though he were laying his soul bare with every brush of his fingers.

"Please," he whispered, voice breaking as he drew the final stroke, his forehead pressed against yours, the rough ash between you a stark reminder of the worlds that kept you apart. "Please, let this save you." His eyes searched yours, wild with a hope he couldn’t contain, pleading with a faith that was beginning to crumble as he realized that even this sacred act, this final attempt to offer you salvation, might still leave you beyond his reach.

You're still a sinner through and through.

Sunday’s fingers lingered, almost frozen against your skin as he stared at the dark symbol he’d left, the weight of it so heavy it felt like it would pull you both under. His breaths came uneven, shallow, as he fought against the reality sinking in—that his desperate plea might not reach you, that this sacred symbol he’d etched might be nothing more than a stain.

His hand drifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the faint smudge of ash, as though hoping to rub it deeper, to make it part of you in some way that went beyond flesh and bone. His eyes were wet, glistening with the weight of unspoken prayers, with the terror of a man standing on the brink of faith and despair.

“I love you— I want you.”

“Then want me.”

‘Want me without fear’ - what you should've said.

He shakes his head, swallowing. “I can’t. To want you… to touch you? I’d lose everything.” Each word is a knife, cutting through the heavy air between you.

“Then why are you here?” you murmur, your voice laced with disbelief, the irony palpable in the dim light. A saint in sacred clothing before a madonna whore.

“Because you’re worth saving.” His eyes are fierce, but they tremble.

You laugh bitterly. “Even if I don’t want it?”

“It’s not just for you!” His grip tightens around your hands, desperation bleeding into his voice. “I need to believe… that you can be saved, that I can—” He falters, his eyes darkening. “What if I’m here because I’m as damned as you?”

“Then maybe you should let go of salvation.”

His wings flutter as sobs wreck his soul. Why can't THEY save you too? Why does he have to live with the idea that you'll rot— that he can't do anything about it?

And as he kneels before you, his lips brushing over your knuckles in a final, desperate kiss, he prays—more for himself than for you.

"I’ve seen hell, and it’s not the one you think," you murmur, voice low, yet biting. "It’s in the way you look at me—like I’m nothing but a sin."

A flash of pain crosses his face, mingling with the flicker of understanding that never quite settles. Anxiety tightens his grip on your hand as he absorbs your words, though he’ll never truly understand them. He opens his mouth, but only silence falls—a prayer unsaid, a salvation he’s not even sure he can give.

His gaze drops, lingering on the thin sheet covering you like a veil over desecration, and he looks away, ashamed yet bound.

He leans in, lips hovering just above yours—a kiss he tells himself is selfless.

“I'll pray for you."

I'll forgive you.

Note: BYE BER MONTHS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK— I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED PROGRESS OF MY WIP FICS AND I WAS IN TEARS AND JS CRASHED OUT. IM BACK BC GIGI PEREZ JS MADE ME WRIT EGAIAN

special mention: @whyiseveryname-taken bro I'm still ariting abt that angst jing yuan fic btw if u still remember 😈

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of kidnapper/kept pet series:

You’re trying again with Johnny.

Or, more accurately, Simon is going to bring Johnny over so that you can (hopefully) adjust to him. Desensitize, at least. Warm up, best case scenario. Simon knows better than to get his hopes up.

He tries to set up for success though. Tells you that he’s bringing Johnny over this time. You make an annoyed noise, scrunch up your face. But he can see a little bit of intrigue in your eyes. You really could use a little more socializing.

He preps Johnny this time too. Reminds him that your shy (standoffish) and cautious (feral). Not to make any sudden movements towards you, or try to grab at you. If you come near enough to touch (unlikely) it’s in his hand’s best interest to let you make first contact.

“Be patient, she’ll come ‘round,” he reminds as he lets Johnny in.

And you, in pure spiteful fashion, are no where to be found. Simon sets Johnny up with a beer and goes searching, finds you curled up on the sun porch angrily crocheting.

“Time to come inside, feral.”

“But he’s here.”

“He’s not so bad, I like him.”

“Exactly.”

You fuss and grumble, but ultimately there’s very little you can do when he scoops you up. He brings you inside, your crocheting things in one hand, you secure with the other. Johnny watches your little parade with arched eyebrows. But he doesn’t say anything.

You get deposited on the couch, a scritch to the back of the head that makes you scowl even as you lean in a bit. Johnny has taken up residence in an armchair a healthy distance from you. When you eye him distrustfully, he chuckles and pulls his shirt collar aside.

“No tags this time, stray.”

You scoff and turn back to your crafting. Simon takes the other end of the couch, knows you’re a bit keyed up today. There, but not imposing on your treasured personal space. You settle in, more or less, though your eyes keep flicking to Johnny while he and Simon talk.

He’s much different from Simon; it’s why he wants you two to at least tolerate each other. You need the enrichment. He louder, brasher, more energetic. Eventually, you slink off to the kitchen for a snack.

“Grab us another beer, eh?” He calls.

You stalk out with a scowl. “I’m not a dog, get it yourself.”

Simon huffs with amusement as you curl up on the couch again, nibbling on your snack. Johnny points at you, empty beer in hand.

“You’re ill-mannered.”

“Says the guy that doesn’t know ‘please’.” You hop off the couch and retreat to your room.

Simon shakes his head, though his eyes crease with amusement. “Keep fucking around and you’re gonna find out. Again.”

“You spoil her,” Johnny complains.

Simon sighs. He still doesn’t get it.

“She’s not a pet, yeah? I’m just keeping her.”

“What the difference?” Johnny groans, standing to get another beer.

“A cat is a pet. A panther is not.”

“Och, and she’s a panther, is that it?” Johnny rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want her domesticated, Johnny. I want her taken care of just the way she is. If you’d stop pissing her off, you’d see why.”

Johnny grumbles, but lets it go. Lets the thought sit. Considers all the things in this specially made house just for you. The tv, the overcrowded bookshelves. The plants for you to attend to and the craft supplies lying about. The room that is yours alone, off limits to johnny, even simon rarely enters.

When you emerge again, it’s because there’s food. You’re hungry and demand a plate from simon, hovering at his elbow while he makes it up for you.

Johnny makes more of an effort, keeping all the things Simon told him in mind. He knows your unlikely to speak to him unless antagonized, so he talks at you - a lot like how Simon did when you first started out.

Luckily for him, Simon’s paved most of the way for him here. At first you pretend to ignore him, but eventually you can’t help it, he is a very engaging story teller after all. So you end up watching him openly, eyes darting from his face to his waving hands to his shaking shoulders.

You’re so focused that he and Simon even manage to coordinate Johnny giving you dessert, him getting close enough to touch as you take the slice of cheesecake from his hand. He’s careful not to touch, doesn’t want to break this spell.

But the real victory of the evening comes when he’s actually stopped paying direct attention to you. He’s still got some cheesecake left, more focused on talking than eating, as usual. And unnoticed, you slip from your chair, circle him and…

“Oi, did you just-? Get back here!”

In a move of pure strategic genius, you tuck up behind Simon. First out of caution and a little genuine fear for his reaction, then when you see him floundering, out of safe smugness.

“Ah, yeah, should have warned you about that. She likes to ‘share’.”

Several times now, you’ve eaten directly off his plate, off his spoon, from his fingers, even. You especially like doing it when you think he’s not paying attention.

“Feral brat,” Simon chuckles, “I would have gotten you more.”

“Tastes better when it’s Johnny’s,” you reply.