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mariasont · 2 days ago

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A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #fluff #criminal minds fluff

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syoddeye · 3 days ago

Note

What if Simon goes back fo rhis card, but she won't give it back unless he tries again?

prev. next.

"sound it out, big fella."

simon huffs and glares at the barback in the corner of his eye. the man's pretending not to listen, working a damp cloth over a two-top that's already shining.

the place isn't even open yet. the door's propped ajar with a brick, and it's hours before service starts. he came early on purpose, figuring he could grab his card and go. maybe avoid this exact interaction. but no. here you are, dangling it in front of him.

he could take it. just lean over the counter, swipe it out of your hand, maybe get a handful of your hip and a squeeze in the process. but no, you had to go and get cute about it.

"'and it over."

"nice try. you know i mean whatever line you were going to feed me the other night."

"wasn't gonna feed you a line."

"no? then what the fuck was that? a disappearing act?" you lean forward on the counter, elbows resting on the wood, fists tucked under your chin. it makes you look pixieish, face tilted up, playing at innocence, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. you're enjoying this. "performance anxiety?"

a lick of heat lashes over the back of his neck and curls around his throat until he swallows. "slip of the tongue."

your mouth takes on a shape he'd find annoying on any other face. you tilt your head, and he swears he can almost see a spade tail swishing behind you.

"right. so then what was the plan?"

"there was no plan."

"mm," you hum, skeptical, dragging it out. "and that's why you've sat closer each time you come in? that wasn't you working up the nerve?"

he could lock a single hand around both of your wrists, hoist them above your head, reclaim his card, and get a good long look down your top. easily. he must harbor some kind of masochistic streak to keep talking. it grinds his teeth.

"no, and you're gettin' on my last nerve—"

"i bet i am," you cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "so why don't i make this easier for everyone, and…"

you pull back, then rise onto your toes, leaning over the bar to reach him. he watches, fingers twitching, as you slide the card into the front pocket of his shirt and pat it twice.

"there's a note taped to the back," you smile, wicked and triumphant. "my number. call it. unless you'd like to run for it again."

simon remains frozen for a beat, your hand lingering just long enough to burn its shape into his chest. his jaw flexes, gears gumming up in his head.

you pull back, light on your feet like you haven't just tucked a grenade into his shirt. that teasing gleam in your eyes, daring, like you're so sure he won't do something. a baited hook, glaring and obvious, as if you don't care he's big enough to snap the line.

he exhales hard through his nose. "you're a pain in the arse."

you grin, wide and unrepentant, backing away with your hands in your apron. "you'll get over it. or not. but you'll call me first."

he watches you retreat through the door to the back, disappearing before he can think of anything clever to say. his mind wiped. instead, he stands there, stuck.

the barback clears his throat, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle. "she got you, mate."

simon cuts him a look harsh enough to make the man flinch, but he doesn't say a word. he turns on his heel and strides out, letting the door slam against the brick.

later, in the quiet of his flat, he studies the note like it might combust. he twists the corner, staring hard at your name and number. been ages since he got one. longer since he called a bird up.

he doesn't care. shouldn't care. but you've got an attitude, quick and cutting. poking the bear, prodding the bull. testing to see how far he'll let you go. mouthy.

he wants to see what you can do with it.

#lunch time write. lightly edited..#got a couple variations of this in my inbox and this is the only one i'll answer.#bartender is like a game-nullifier.#ghost x reader

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txrully · 2 days ago

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I'M FALLING FOR YA

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they realized they fell for you

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ song inspo falling for ya - grace phipps

·˚ ༘ ꒱ note reader's gender is not mentioned

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

it was that one time you stayed up all night helping him with his game analysis. you had zero clue what you were looking at, but you sat beside him, nodding like you totally understood his football jargon. you even brought snacks and drinks, acting like his personal cheerleader. at some point, you fell asleep on his shoulder, and yoichi just froze.

his heart did that stupid little flutter, and he thought, oh. oh no.

that’s when it hit him—you're his biggest supporter, even when you don’t have to be. and yeah, he’s doomed.

"y/n, you… you didn't have to stay up with me."

"shut up and eat your chips, striker boy."

"...i think i love you."

"what?? i didn't hear you-"

"nothing."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira knew he was done for when you didn’t look at him like he was weird. you two were at an arcade, and he got way too into a rhythm game, like full-on dancing, spinning, doing the most. people were staring, but you? you were hyping him up like he was the main act at a concert.

when you jumped onto the machine with him, laughing like you didn't care who was watching, he swore his heart did a backflip. you got him. no judgment, no weird looks, just pure chaotic energy.

"y/n, let’s run away and start a dance crew!"

"bet. can we get matching outfits?"

"...i think i’m in love with you."

"*le gasp* :'0"

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

rin never thought he'd fall in love, but then you stood up for him. it was after a tough match, and some guys were trash-talking him like they had no fear of death. before he could even say anything, you stepped in with the most savage comebacks known to mankind.

rin watched in awe (and lwk horror) as you verbally obliterated them. and when you turned back to him all nonchalant like "what? they were asking for it," he realized… yeah, you’re everything.

"you didn’t have to do that."

"of course i did, no one talks about my man like that."

"...your man?"

"uh, don’t overthink it, rin. :')"

spoiler: he overthought it.

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi realized he loved you when you dragged him out of bed to watch the sunrise. he groaned and complained the entire time, but you didn’t let up. you pulled him outside with a blanket wrapped around him, sat him down, and pointed at the sky like it was the most important thing in the world.

and then he looked at you—eyes sparkling, a soft smile on your face—and suddenly, the sunrise didn’t matter anymore. he just wanted to stay like this forever.

"see? wasn’t this worth it?"

"hm? yeah, yeah, totally..."

"are you even looking at the sky?"

"...uh huh. definitely."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo fell in love when you saw him—not the money, not the status, not mikage reo, just reo. he tried to impress you with fancy gifts, expensive trips, the whole deal, but you just rolled your eyes and told him you’d rather chill at home and watch movies with instant ramen.

he realized right then and there that he didn’t need to buy your love, because you already gave it to him freely. and for once, he felt like someone wanted him for him.

"you really don’t care about all this rich guy stuff?"

"reo, i literally just wanna watch a rom com and eat snacks."

"...i think i wanna marry you."

"woah."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

it was the time you challenged him to a race. he was used to people treating him like he was delicate, scared of pushing him too hard, but you? nah, you sprinted ahead without warning, shouting, "catch me if you can, speedster!"

he hadn’t felt that rush in a long time—the pure joy of running alongside someone who believed in him, not his injuries. when he finally caught up, breathless and laughing, he knew he was completely, utterly in love.

"hyoma, you’re getting slow!"

"oh? you wanna bet on that?"

"loser does whatever the winner says for a week."

"...i’m winning."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori fell in love the day you told him it was okay to take a break. you found him staring at his playbook, stress all over his face, and instead of telling him to push through, you took his hand, dragged him to the couch, and put on his favorite movie.

no pressure, no expectations—just you, showing him it’s okay to breathe. and that’s when it hit him… you were his safe place.

"you don’t always have to be perfect, hiori."

"...but i want to be."

"you already are to me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou fell in love when you actually kept up with his chaos. everyone else called him reckless, but you? you matched his energy, throwing playful insults right back and even out-pranking him at times.

one day, you flipped him off mid-match in a video game, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. someone who could handle his crazy? sign him up.

"keep staring, shidou, maybe you’ll play better."

"i’m staring ‘cause i think i’m in love."

"you’re insufferable."

"and you’re stuck with me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae’s moment was when you called him out on his nonsense. no one dared to, but you? you told him to quit being a jerk and actually open up for once.

instead of brushing you off like he usually did with people, he found himself listening. something about you made him want to be better. and that terrified him—but it also made him realize he was falling hard.

"sae, just admit you care."

"...shut up."

"i'm calling shidou."

"...i care."

"knew it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser fell for you when you didn’t fall for his charm (weirdly enough). everyone else ate up his flirty lines, but you hit him with a deadpan stare and a sarcastic comeback that left him reeling.

it was the first time someone saw past his ego and actually challenged him. and wow, he was obsessed.

"y/n, admit it, you love me."

"i love peace and quiet, michael."

"so... not me?"

"hm, i'll get back to that later ."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness knew he was in love when you defended him. not as kaiser’s shadow, but as ness. you shut down anyone who tried to treat him like an afterthought, and for once, he felt like he mattered—not just to the world, but to you.

"thanks for standing up for me."

"always, ness. you deserve it."

do not copy/translate/repost my works

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bettys-redwinesupernova · 2 days ago

Text

SOMEONE TO STAY

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: when rafe’s girlfriend doesn’t show up to his safe house during a hurricane he fears the worst, and wonders if he’ll get to tell her that he loves her.

based on this ask !! i hope this is what you wanted anon :) i wasn’t sure if you meant pogue!reader or actually meant pogue!rafe so i kept this open as to not interpret it incorrectly !!

A/N: my drew starkey & characters masterlist is here !!

WARNINGS: cursing, hurricane, fear of loved ones dying, crying, panic attack, arguments, angsty love confession, angst to fluff !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SECOND PERSON +

The storm came fast and without mercy. What had started as a mild tropical storm rapidly intensified into a Category 4 hurricane barrelling toward the Outer Banks. Mandatory evacuation orders were issued for the Pogues and parts of the Cut, but for the Kooks in Figure Eight, the luxury of reinforced homes and private shelters meant hunkering down. The air felt thick with panic and pressure as everyone prepared for the worst.

Rafe had been at his father's old office on the more secure side of the island, trying to sort out some financial mess left behind by Ward, when the weather reports turned grim. His phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls from people checking in or offering refuge. But Rafe didn't care about any of them.

He cared about one person.

"Y/N, just listen to me for once!" Rafe snapped, pacing the office as the storm began to howl outside. His voice was sharp, desperate even, as he tried to reason with his girlfriend. "Don't try to be a hero. Don't stop for anything. Just get in your car and come straight to the safe house. I'll meet you there."

"Rafe, I'll be fine," you said over the phone, your voice calm but firm. "I'm already on my way."

"You're sure? I can come get you. I should come get you," he pressed, running a hand through his hair. "This storm's getting worse by the second. I don't want you driving in this."

"I've got it under control," you reassured him, a smile in your tone even though he couldn't see it. "I'll see you soon."

But the second the line went dead, unease settled deep in Rafe's chest. He tried to tell himself you were capable, smart, and resourceful—qualities he loved about you. Still, that didn't stop the gnawing anxiety that clawed at him as he headed toward the safe house.

—

The drive was hellish. Rain lashed against your windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up. Floodwaters licked at the sides of the road as you maneuvered carefully toward Figure Eight. It wasn't long before you lost signal entirely, your phone cutting off mid-text to Rafe. You cursed under your breath but pressed on.

You'd been almost to the safe house when a thought struck you like lightning. Earlier that week, Rafe had been pouring over some old financial records and papers that he needed for his next move with the family business. He'd spent hours meticulously going through them, and you knew they were stored in his father's house.

Your chest tightened. If the storm destroyed everything, Rafe would lose all that work. Against better judgment, you turned onto the road leading to Tannyhill. You told yourself it wouldn't take long—just in and out.

By the time you made it to the safe house, it was well past dark, and the storm had intensified. The wind howled like a living thing, rattling the reinforced windows and slamming against the door as you stumbled in, soaked to the bone.

"Rafe?" you called, setting the plastic bag containing the saved papers down on a table. "I'm here."

It took less than ten seconds for him to appear. His hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled from hours of pacing. The moment his eyes landed on you, relief flickered across his face—but it was quickly replaced by something far darker.

"Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, storming toward you. His voice was a mix of anger and panic, his chest heaving as he stopped in front of you. "I've been calling you for hours! Do you have any idea—" His voice broke, and he ran a hand down his face. "I thought something happened to you."

"Rafe, I'm fine," you said, trying to placate him. "I—"

"You're not fine!" he snapped, his voice rising again. "You think this is fine? Driving through a hurricane, ignoring my calls—what were you even doing?" His eyes darted to the bag on the table, and something clicked. "You stopped for papers?"

"Rafe, I know how important they are to you—"

"Papers?" he interrupted, his voice incredulous. "You risked your life for some stupid papers?"

"They're not stupid!" you fired back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You've been working so hard on this, and I didn't want you to lose it all."

"I don't care about the damn papers!" he yelled, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. "Don't you get it? I don't care about any of that fucking shit if it means losing you!"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off, his breathing growing erratic. His hands trembled as he backed away, pressing his palms to his temples. "I can't—God, I can't do this," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you were dead, Y/N. I thought I lost you out there.”

"Rafe—"

"You're all I have," he said, his voice breaking completely as tears streamed down his face. "You're all I have, and I can't lose you. I won't survive it."

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the raw vulnerability in his voice leaving you momentarily stunned. You stepped toward him cautiously, reaching out to touch his arm. "Rafe, I'm here. I'm okay," you said softly. "I'm right here."

But he didn't seem to hear you, his breathing growing more rapid as he sank onto the couch. His chest heaved, and his hands gripped the edge of the cushion like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You knelt in front of him, your heart aching at the sight of him falling apart. "Rafe, look at me," you said firmly, taking his hands in yours. They were cold and clammy, shaking like leaves in the storm outside. "Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe."

He tried to match your breaths, but his body refused to cooperate. Desperation clawed at him, his gaze wild and unfocused. "I can't—I can't—"

"Yes, you can," you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. You guided one of his hands to your chest, pressing his palm flat against your heartbeat. "Feel that? I'm still breathing. I'm still alive. I'm here, Rafe."

Something shifted in his eyes as he focused on the steady rhythm beneath his hand. He gripped your shirt like a lifeline, his breathing slowly evening out. "You're here," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "You're here."

"That's right," you said, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The storm raged on outside, but inside, the only sound was the quiet rise and fall of your breaths. Finally, Rafe pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost hurt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair. "I'm sorry for yelling. I was just so scared."

"I know," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "I'm sorry, too. I should've just come straight here."

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his blue eyes searching yours. "I don't say this enough—or at all—but you mean everything to me, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. You’re my whole world. Not work, not money, not anything; you. I love you, so fucking much.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they were from something far warmer than fear. "I love you, too," you said, leaning into his touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms as the storm began to lose its fury. Whatever chaos the hurricane had brought, it couldn't touch the calm you found in each other.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i hope this is what you wanted anon !! this was such a cute one to write and i love me some angst to fluff😫

pls request some more angst guys !! i absolutely LOVE writing it :) and as always, likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey #rafe cameron #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#outer banks #fluff #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron fanfiction

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ozzgin · 21 hours ago

Text

content: gender neutral reader, violence, sharing is caring

Y'all...I've been plagued by the dream of Yandere!Delinquent!Siblings.

Listen, you happened to become penpals with a young man in his early twenties, currently locked up at your local juvie. One thing led to another, and, well, you're presently dating.

You always get questioned by the guards: are you sure the rascal isn't blackmailing you? He's one of their worst leftovers, violent and unpredictable. It's quite scary how quick his mood shifts, going from a friendly smile to bashing someone's head in with the lunch tray until the nurses have to stitch the skull back together.

Oh, but he loves you so much. He hasn't touched a single inmate since dating you! He's on his best behavior, you see, in order to be allowed some time outside. Sure, he sometimes gets to make out with you in some corner away from the cameras, but sneaking around all the time is no fun. He wants to hold you properly, without handcuffs, without the guards staring and following his every move.

On his first probation leave, he took you to his apartment. That's where you met his older brother, and when you quickly understood that delinquency runs in the family. The only difference between the two siblings was that one got out of prison earlier.

Lucky bastard! The fearsome, heavily tattooed man walked around you, admiring your features with an envious grin. Truly, where did his younger brother find a catch like you? Are you sure you don't need someone to keep you company while your boyfriend is behind bars?

You chuckled, thinking it's a joke, but they were dead serious. The troublesome pair seems to have no trouble sharing, even when it comes to romantic partners.

Consequently, you now find yourself in this strange arrangement of being passed around between the siblings. Hopefully you’re enjoying it as much as they do, because they've gotten rather attached and won't be willing to part with you anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter. They love you too much.

#yandere #yandere siblings #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #delinquent x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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covenofagatha · 2 days ago

Note

Hey! I would love to give you an idea of your next fic!

How about G!p!Director!Agatha asks Actress!R if they can make a sex tape, so she won't be lonely that much when R is away for work(They're married). Turns out she feels even more lonely and hornier when R is away. She's going crazy when she sees her cum leaking out of R in the video. She's been sending R videos of her fucking fleshlight and express how much she needs R. And when R gets back home, they fuck like a horny teen. (Breeding would be perfect for this🤩🤩)

Thank you so much!! I love all your fics!!!🩷

Ohhh 🫠🥵 writing this one killed me in the best possible way

Baby, you're a star

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: mommy kink, filming, GP Agatha, sex toys, breeding kink, masturbation, blowjobs, sex, oral sex, fingering, minor spanking, so much filth, porn with very little plot, I have never written this much smut in a single post

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

You’re running, running from something, and it’s closing in on you. Looking back over your shoulder, a terrified look on your face, you trip and end up sprawling onto the ground.

It’s about to get you. Your eyes widen in fear, a loud sound coming from the distance —

“And…cut! That’s a wrap!” With the shout from your director, your character of Samantha Wren, a girl haunted by a dark creature from her past that finally catches up to her, melts away and you push yourself off the set floor, brushing your hands on your torn pants.

The scene you just shot is the cliffhanger ending to the film, The Figure in the Walls, where Samantha is sprinting through the woods after realizing what the monster is, trying to get away. It’s unclear if she does, which leaves some room for a sequel.

The movie’s director, Agatha Harkness, steps out from behind the cameras and slow-claps, smirking at you. You make a beeline for her and she wraps an arm around your shoulders and steers you away from the set. A PA jogs over and hands you a cup of coffee and a bagel. You’ve been filming for the past five hours, doing scenes from earlier that weren’t as good and finishing up the movie sequence, and you’re starving.

“You did so good, honey,” Agatha murmurs into your ear and presses a quick kiss to your temple.

It’s not a secret on set that the two of you are married, you both just prefer to keep it professional for the most part, at least when other people can see you.

You first met Agatha at the Golden Globes about two and a half years ago. You had never met, but were both nominated for separate projects: you for Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy, and her for Best Director. A mutual friend had introduced you to her during a commercial break, and you hit it off instantly.

There was almost something magnetic between you, and it just kept pulling you to her all night long. You won for your category, and so did she, and the picture of you two with your Globes is framed above the fireplace mantle in your mansion.

You’re beaming at the camera while Agatha is staring down your dress, trying to look inconspicuous. When you tease her about it, she says she was just looking at the trophy.

It’s unclear if she means the Globe, or you.

She had invited you to go to an afterparty with her and you had immediately agreed. It was a quiet, intimate sort of thing with an open bar, and she had brazenly flirted while the warmth from the alcohol settled pleasantly in your stomach.

After a few hours and after you had been practically sitting in her lap for quite some time, she said that she should get going, but asked for your number.

You had clasped her cheeks and pulled her into a hot kiss right there and promptly dragged her out the door into your car and back to your apartment.

A year and a half later, she asked you to marry her as you were walking along the Santa Monica Pier. The sun was setting, purples and pinks reflecting off the ocean waves, and you had never felt so happy in your entire life. You bought a mansion in Beverly Hills together, and you’ve lived there ever since.

When Agatha first signed onto direct The Figure in the Walls, your name had been already thrown around as for who would play the lead. You still don’t know if she pulled some strings, and there was obviously gossip that you had only gotten the role because your wife was directing, but Agatha assured you that once everyone saw your performance, there would be no doubt that you had earned every part of it.

“Thank you,” you whisper to your wife. You can’t believe the movie is finally done, but your turn-around is quick. Tomorrow, you fly out to meet with an agent in New York about a new film franchise in the works. If you land the lead role, it would be absolutely huge for your career.

You will be gone for a week, though, and you and Agatha have been looking forward to some time for just yourselves. You’re eager to get home and at least have tonight, but with the wrap party and the closing speeches, it’s going to be awhile before you’re able to.

Some of the other cast members come over and mingle while you sip on a soda, but you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you the whole time. At one point, you give in and glance over to where she’s sitting — all alone in her director’s chair for some reason, but she’s facing you.

She uncrosses her legs and slouches back, casually putting a hand on her right upper thigh. Agatha ever so slightly spreads the fabric of her dark gray pants and you can see — she’s half-hard. Just from watching you, just from the thought of finally getting some quality time. You’ve made it work with the busy schedule, always finding a half hour for a quick fuck every now and then, but it’s been too long since you’ve been able to take your time. There’s the unspoken promise that neither of you will be sleeping much tonight.

Swallowing roughly and trying to fight back the heat creeping into your cheeks, you turn back to your co-stars and try to look like you’re listening.

And then finally everyone starts to leave. With Agatha being the director, she waits until every single member of the cast and crew has gone while you sit and impatiently tap your foot.

“You ready?” Agatha asks and you jump out of your seat, eagerly nodding, and she laughs. “Looking forward to something?”

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me, mommy,” you answer matter-of-factly and it catches her off-guard for the slightest second.

It’s not often you’re this bold and straight-forward without her prompting. And she fucking loves it.

The car is already waiting outside — you called it while you were waiting for everyone to leave — and the air between the two of you crackles with electricity. The tension is thick, but neither of you move to disturb it, instead just choosing to let it build until you’re in the sanctity of your home.

But your breathing quickens and you can feel your underwear getting gradually wetter, the anticipation steadily rising. When you look over at your wife, you can see her fully-hardened cock straining against the fabric of her tailored pants and her long fingers are digging into her thighs, making her veins pop.

It’s about twenty minutes later of lingering looks between darkened eyes when the car pulls into the driveway of your house.

Agatha barely thanks the driver before you’re both scrambling out of the car and up to your front door.

The moment it’s closed, you’re shoved against the pillar next to it, Agatha’s mouth on yours in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck,” you moan, her tongue hotly licking against yours. She grunts in agreement before grabbing your wrists and holding them over your head, thrusting her right leg between yours. You can feel her cock, can feel the heat radiating off it, and you throb against it and swiftly grind down.

She groans into your mouth and angles her leg up higher and you can feel her dick pulse, which makes the ache inside you grow unbearable. Your kiss has become sloppy, a flurry of teeth and lips and tongue, and she pulls back to trail her mouth down your neck. You hiss when she sucks a bite and it makes your hips jerk involuntarily.

“Agatha — mommy, please,” you whimper, your cunt absolutely dripping. All of your thoughts are being consumed by her right now, and you just need more. You need her fingers, her mouth, her cock inside you, you need her.

Agatha chuckles breathlessly, planting an open-mouth kiss on your lips. “What do you need, honey?”

It’s almost frustrating that she’s making you say it, like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world how desperate you are for her. “Can we — upstairs?” Your head is spinning and it feels like you’re drunk with need.

If it were any other time, she would make you repeat it and ask clearly. But she knows, she always knows, and there’s no time to waste.

She lets go of one of your wrists but pulls you by the other to the staircase and then stops on the third stair to kiss you again, like she can’t possibly wait. She sucks on your tongue and you gasp.

“Fuck, mommy’s going to miss you tomorrow,” she mutters and in the haze in your head, you feel a slight pang of sadness. Agatha would’ve come with you, but she has a meeting here that she can’t miss either. It’s tough to be apart, even for just a week.

But then the sentimental moment is gone and her teeth sink into your bottom lip, her hand coming up to rest around your throat. She barely even squeezes but it does wonders — you clench around nothing, eyes glazing over, and you let out a strangled gasp.

Agatha smirks and tugs you the rest of the way to your bedroom. Shoes are kicked off and she quickly helps you take off the shirt and pants you changed into after filming and then you rip open the silk button-down shirt she’s wearing, sending buttons flying everywhere. She pushes down her pants and underwear and a ragged gasp tears itself out of your mouth when you see her cock, hard and red and leaking.

You let out a small moan and move closer to touch it, but she stops you.

“Honey,” she says, a bit timidly, and concern washes over you like a bucket of cold water.

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” you ask. She looks around, biting her lip like she’s not sure how to phrase it. “Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it something bad?”

Agatha shakes her head. “No, it’s just something I was thinking of. Something I wanted to see if you’d want to try, just because you’re going to be away for a bit.” A flash of heat bursts through you — usually you’re the one who brings up wanting to try new things in the bedroom, but now that it’s Agatha, fuck, you can’t wait.

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“I was wondering if you’d let me film you — us. While we have sex,” she says and your cunt throbs. You’d never thought of it, but you can see it in your mind now. You can imagine how hot it would be to watch yourself take her cock. “So when you’re gone and I get lonely, I can watch it back and remember what a good girl you are for me.”

The praise settles right into your stomach and now you can’t stop thinking about Agatha stroking her cock while watching the two of you have sex.

“You want to, what, direct me in a porno?” you ask, partly as a joke, but there’s no missing the involuntary sound that slips out of her lips, no missing the darkening of her already hungry eyes. “Fuck. Okay.”

She looks a little surprised at your easy agreement, but presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and then another one, and then leaves the room. You sit down on your bed, the excitement almost overwhelming, and try to slow your racing heart.

It’s only a minute before Agatha comes back, holding the iPad that she uses for work sometimes, and a stand for it. Has she been preparing for this? The thought sears through your veins and you feel yourself getting even more wetter.

Her cock seems to get harder if possible as she sets it up close to the bed and the moment she nods and steps back, you feel a new-found sense of confidence wash over you.

You’ve always come alive in front of the cameras, you thrive under being watched, and it feels no different now, even if you’re not becoming a character.

It’s exhilarating. And you’re going to do your best to put on a show.

“Move to the center of the bed,” Agatha orders, still watching through the screen. You swallow roughly and obey — you’ve always found it incredibly sexy watching her command a scene with just her words, and now that she’s doing it in this context?

Fuck.

You lean back against the pillows and look at her, awaiting her next instruction. Agatha nods and her eyes rake over you appreciatively. “Spread your legs and touch yourself over your underwear.”

Moaning softly, you widen your legs and plant your feet flat on the bed so your knees are bent. And then you cup your pussy and your lips part involuntarily when you feel how wet you are. The fabric is absolutely drenched and you can see from the look on Agatha’s face that she can tell too.

You slowly start to trace the outline of your pussy lips through your panties, up and down over your slit, and then when you circle over your clit finally, your back arches off the bed and you sigh heavily. The pleasure is so much more acute now — is it because of the camera? Because you know that Agatha is going to fuck herself later to this?

“There you go, honey,” your wife says approvingly. There’s a wild look in her eyes and her hands are twitching like she’s dying to touch her cock. The tip is even more red now, and you can see beads of liquid collecting and dripping onto the floor. Your hips jolt when you press down harder on your clit. “Take your underwear off and tease your entrance — but don’t go inside just yet.”

You have to peel your panties off your sopping wet pussy and you teasingly toss them over to her. She catches them and lets out a surprised groan when she actually feels them.

And then she lifts them to her nose and breathes in the scent of your wetness and your clit pulses. You try to focus on her instructions and glide a finger through your folds, molten hot and dripping. You dip into your pussy and then withdraw. You repeat and whimper at how good you know it’s going to feel when she finally lets you fuck yourself.

“Slide one finger in slowly,” she demands and your head drops back as you do, the stretch nowhere near enough but still feeling delicious. Your walls immediately clench down around it and you moan.

When you look back at Agatha, your hips roll of their own accord — she’s started stroking her cock with your underwear. You can see how she’s glistening with your wetness and she thrusts every few times like she can’t control it.

“Mommy, can you…” Pleasure swims in your mind when you curl your finger and it interrupts your thoughts for a second. “Want you to be in the video, too.” You want to watch it back and see her as well.

Agatha inhales sharply. “Yeah, okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” And then she steps around the iPad and comes into view of the shot, standing near the side of the bed so you can see each other more clearly.

Her cock bobs up and down and you time your thrusts inside you with each of her strokes so you can imagine it’s her inside you.

“Put another finger in,” she rasps and starts to speed up, your underwear moving frictionlessly over her with how wet it is.

The addition of a second finger makes you groan loudly and you can’t even tell if you’re trying to show off for the camera or not. Everything is so much more heightened now.

She makes you fuck yourself like that for about ten minutes, every now and then telling you to fuck yourself faster, babygirl and slow down, sweetheart and fuck, honey, you look so fucking hot for mommy.

You’re a complete mess now, absolutely ruined and babbling incoherently, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your orgasm has been steadily building this whole time and you know it won’t be much longer before you cum.

Agatha is also close by the looks of it; she’s completely flushed, her chest and neck tinted the prettiest pink, and her cock is leaking even more, her hips moving more sporadically. The ache inside you isn’t going away — it’s only getting worse the more you look at her.

“Mommy,” you whine, needing to feel your wife on you more than anything. “Please, please fuck me.”

“I know, baby,” she pants. “Just a second, let mommy move the camera.” And god, it makes you throb when she grabs the stand and angles it perpendicularly to the bed.

And then she climbs on the bed and situates herself between your open legs and leans over you so she can drag her cock through your soaked folds. The gasp she lets out drives you crazy and you keen when she rubs her tip against your clit.

“Beg for mommy,” she says, hair falling down over her face as she bites her lip. She positions herself right at your opening.

“I need you so bad, please fill me up, please fuck me, I need you so bad, mommy —” She pushes into you in one motion and your mouth drops open. Your walls immediately clamp down around her and she groans at the feeling.

It’s exactly what you need and when she starts to move, soft sounds fall from your lips with every thrust.

She twitches inside you when you pull her down for a quick kiss. “God, I can’t wait to watch this,” she grunts and it makes you clench. Her hips stutter. “You’re so good, such a good slut for me. Taking my cock like a superstar. Fuck, honey, I’m going to watch the video everyday, gonna figure out how to make it my home screen.”

The thought of Agatha opening up her phone to immediately see you being fucked by her makes you moan gutteraly and she huffs out a laugh. “Mommy, please.”

“Fuck, baby, you really like this, don’t you?” You nod your head quickly under her and her cock throbs inside you. You’re so fucking close. She feels so good inside you, her cock dragging deliciously against your walls, and hitting that spot inside you that she always does.

Pleasure is rolling over your body in waves and you lift your hips to meet each of her thrusts. It’s never been this intense before and you can’t believe you never thought to try filming sex before.

Agatha’s rhythm starts to falter inside you, she’s cursing, short of breath. She reaches between you to rub at your clit with two fingers and it makes you sob with how good it feels.

“Agatha, I’m so close,” you whine, beg. She ruts into you urgently, like she’s about to cum but needs to make sure you get there too, and she scrapes her teeth against your collarbone with a sharp thrust and presses on your clit and you explode, your orgasm tearing through your body and absolutely blowing your mind.

Your walls convulse around her and she stiffens, her breathing tightening, and then she lets out a long moan and you feel her pulse before her seed spreads through your cunt. You gasp at the warmth and Agatha collapses on top of you.

She lays there until she starts to soften before pulling out. Her cum starts to trickle out of your swollen pussy and you grind against nothing at the sensation but Agatha quickly jumps off the bed and grabs the iPad off the camera.

You gasp when you figure out what she’s doing — Agatha holds your legs open and holds the camera down close to your pussy.

“Spread your folds,” she directs, but without any of the authority she usually has. You reach down and do as she asks, more of her cum oozing out as you do. She swears under your breath. “Make yourself messy.”

You know what she means. You collect the wetness between your legs, both hers and your own, and start to stroke it all over your cunt.

“Fuck, honey, just like that,” she says and you rub your clit again, your body jerking under your own touch. “Clean your fingers.”

And then she lifts the camera to film you sucking your two cum-covered fingers into your mouth. You moan at the taste of both of you and Agatha looks like she might ravish you all over again.

The iPad gets tossed somewhere else on the bed and she leans over to kiss you before crawling down your body and cleans out her cum from inside you with her tongue.

Agatha doesn’t stop until she’s made you cum three more times.

When you wake up in the morning, there’s a pleasant soreness in between your legs and the sheets are still slightly damp. Light has started to stream in through the curtains on the large windows and you roll onto your side to find that it’s 8 am.

You have to be at the airport in an hour.

“Fuck,” you curse and jump out of bed, rushing around to get dressed and throw some clothes into a suitcase. With the end of the film, you haven’t had much time to get ready for this trip, and you are sorely regretting it now.

Agatha stirs while you’re trying to find the black dress for the cocktail party you have to go to in New York and mumbles something. You pause and wait for her to repeat herself. “Why don’t you come back to bed?” she asks suggestively, picking her head up to watch you.

“Babe, I have to be at the airport in an hour,” you say apologetically. “How do you still have energy after last night?”

Agatha chuckles and gets out of bed, coming over to wrap her arms around your shoulders from behind. You can feel her semi-erection through your suit pants. “I just always want to fuck you,” she murmurs into your ear and you debate whether or not you have enough time.

In the end, logic wins and you twist in her arms to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry. When I get back I’ll make it up to you. Plus,” you say, eyebrows raising mischievously, “you have that video from last night.” The memory of making it heats through you — Agatha directing you on how to touch yourself.

You will definitely need to revisit that in the future.

But it does very little to quell Agatha’s lust and she grumbles as she goes to get dressed. “Maybe, when you get back, I’ll make you cockwarm me while we watch our little home movie and if you make one move, I won’t let you cum for a week.”

The idea runs straight through you right into your cunt and you seriously debate saying fuck it to New York entirely.

But an hour later, Agatha’s pulling up to the airport to drop you off and giving you a tight hug while she whispers in her ear how much she loves you.

You miss her the second you walk into the terminal, but you try to focus on preparing for your trip. There’s a few dinners, meetings, and parties that you’re expected to attend, just to get to know the right people for the next project that you could potentially be in. You know the other actresses being considered will also be there, so you need to be on your A-game.

And you’re able to focus for the entire plane ride, memorizing parts of the script they gave you, and when you land, you pull out your phone to text Agatha that you made it, only to find that she’s already messaged you a few times.

I miss you already, honey.

Hope you have a great time in NY! I know they’ll love you.

I wish I didn’t have to be here for this stupid meeting. I’d have loved to be there with you.

The first ones make you smile at how sweet your wife can be. But then the next couple are enough to reignite the fire in your stomach from earlier.

I miss your pussy, babygirl.

Can’t wait for you to come home so I can taste you.

Fuck, baby, mommy is so hard for you.

You’re too caught up in the messages to realize that your row is moving and the person in the middle seat taps your shoulder to get your attention. You startle and mutter an apology, hoping he didn’t accidentally see anything she sent you.

As you’re getting checked into the hotel, you get another text from your wife and the second you open it, you have to slam your phone down on the receptionist’s desk. She gives you a weird look but you pretend not to see it.

Watching the video — mommy loves watching her cum drip out of you. Fuck, honey. I’m going crazy.

Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to your cheeks, and you quickly take your room key and hurry up to the room. You press the call button and put your phone on speaker so you can start unpacking.

Agatha answers immediately. “Hey, sweetheart,” she says, the most casual you’ve ever heard, and you clench your jaw.

“Agatha, what are you doing? I haven’t even been gone six hours. You’re going to kill the both of us!”

Her low chuckle makes you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. “I’m actually all right, baby. Remember that fleshlight you got me as a gag gift last Christmas?”

Fuck. “Agatha,” you say warningly. You have to be at a steakhouse in about thirty minutes — you don’t have time for her to get you all worked up. You were so distracted this morning you didn’t even bring any of your toys with you either.

“Of course it’s not as good as the real thing,” she sighs, and you can hear a soft slapping noise on the other side. You feel dizzy with heat.

“Are you…” you trail off, not even sure you could say the rest out loud. Could you pretend to be sick tonight?

Agatha lets out a little moan and you’re sure it must be for show, just to rub it in. “Fucking this toy and pretending it’s your pussy?”

You can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips and you have to sit down on the bed. “Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she laughs cruelly.

“Don’t you have that dinner to get ready for?” she asks and with a sinking feeling in your stomach, you know what’s going to happen. You hum, almost wishing you would’ve lied. Agatha grunts, the slapping sound speeding up, and you have to close your eyes. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Love you.”

She hangs up before you can protest and you’re forced to get into the shower, the heat in your stomach burning more than the water, and your hand makes its way between your legs to furiously rub your clit.

You cum in about three minutes.

You can barely focus at dinner with the thought of her using a fleshlight, one that you got her as a joke nonetheless. Her hard thrusts into the toy, picturing your mouth or pussy.

When you finally get back to the hotel, you’re absolutely exhausted. The travel, being teased by Agatha, and now that dinner where you had to pretend like your body wasn’t screaming for you to get on a plane and go home to your wife wiped you out, and you barely press send on a goodnight text to her before you’re passed out.

The next few days pass in a blur with events jam-packed into your schedule and you hardly have any time to talk to Agatha. She’s good for the most part, with the occasional dirty text every now and then.

But on your second-to-last day in New York, she starts to play a different game.

You’re sightseeing, checking out the American Museum of Natural History, when your phone buzzes. It’s a video from Agatha.

You don’t really think much and you click on it and your jaw drops as your entire body freezes.

It starts out shaky and it takes a few moments for it to focus, Agatha clearly in the middle of something. And then it points down and you see Agatha fucking the fleshlight.

Turn your phone off your brain screams. But it’s as if you’re stuck, your eyes glued to the screen to watch her thrust over and over into the silicone toy. She’s holding it with her left hand, her phone in her right, and her hips are driving her cock into the fake pussy hard. You can almost feel her cock inside you, as if the toy and you are connected.

She’s going faster and you wish more than anything you weren’t out in public so you could turn up the volume and hear her moaning, hear if she’s saying anything. It cuts off right as she’s about to cum. You have no doubt that you will be very busy with the video once you get back to your room.

And by the time you get back to the hotel, she’s sent you another one. Luckily, you don’t have anything for two hours, so you’re free to do whatever you want.

You’re almost afraid to click on it, and you shimmy off your jeans and underwear preemptively. You’ve been worked up for so long and you’ve barely had a chance to touch yourself and you breathe a sigh of relief when your fingers press against your clit.

Clicking on the new video, your pussy spasms when you realize what you’re watching.

Agatha has the iPad set up on the table, the video of you two open and playing. It’s strange to see your own face contorted with pleasure on film while Agatha tells you how to touch yourself.

And then in the lower half of the video she just sent is her, thrusting into the fleshlight again.

“Fuck,” you whisper. She’s fucking the toy while watching you fuck yourself. You turn the volume all the way up so you don’t miss anything and her little grunts with each drive only turn you on more.

Your wetness makes a squelching sound when you drag your fingers up and down through your folds and when you come back up to circle at your clit, there’s almost no friction.

“God, babygirl, mommy can’t wait for you to come back,” Agatha groans and it makes your heart skip a beat. On the iPad, Agatha has slid her cock into you and you’re in awe at how hot it is watching yourself get fucked.

It becomes quite clear to you that Agatha’s idea of having you cockwarm her while watching this video would not bode well for you. There is absolutely no way you’d be able to stay still, as evidenced by your squirming hips grinding against your hand right now.

Agatha takes her cock out of the fleshlight, puts it down, and strokes her hand quickly over it and a flash of heat bolts through you when you see it glistening. And then she places the toy on the table and teases her tip against the opening, sliding it up and down, you keen and your back arches off the bed.

All you’re doing is touching your clit a little.

On the iPad, Agatha’s speeding up and you’re whimpering underneath her. In the video you just got, she starts to slowly push her cock back into the fleshlight.

In your hotel room, you shove two fingers inside you, moaning at the stretch, and begin to thrust in time with Agatha, who is thrusting in time with the video you made.

“Fuck, honey, I need your pussy,” she babbles and you curl your fingers just right, a moan slipping out of your mouth. “Can’t wait to fuck you when you come back, can’t wait to fill you up.”

Her thrusts are becoming shallower into the toy, her sounds getting louder, and you’re right there with her.

You’re determined not to cum before she does, even though it’s a video and you could speed it up to cum with her. But you don’t want to miss a thing.

Turns out, you don’t have to wait too long, because when Agatha on the iPad moves the camera close to your pussy after she came inside you, her cum gushing out of you, that’s it for your wife.

“You feel so good,” Agatha says on the video before letting out a long moan and thrusting roughly one more time into the fleshlight. She stiffens and grunts and then pulls her cock out and lowers her phone so you can see her cum still spurting out onto the lips of the fleshlight.

That makes you cum almost immediately and you clamp a hand over your mouth so you don’t get any neighbors in the hotel wondering what you’re up to.

The video ends shortly after that and leaves you gasping for breath on the bed. You type out a quick Can’t wait to get home tomorrow and hit send. Thankfully, your plane leaves in the morning so you’ll be home soon.

Agatha immediately sends you back a wink emoji and then an eggplant emoji, making you laugh.

After the last dinner, you watch the video again and make yourself cum two more times.

It’s been the longest week of your life, and when the agent for the franchise drops you off at the airport, you barely remember to shake her hand.

“We’ll be in touch,” she says. “But between you and me, I think you have a very good shot of getting this part.”

Even through the horny fog in your mind, you realize just how big of a deal this is and you can’t wait to tell Agatha.

You call her while you’re waiting to board and tell her.

“Honey, that is amazing,” she gushes and your heart swells. Agatha has been your number one cheerleader since you met.

“You know I’d be spending a lot of time in New York. If you could barely last a week, imagine how hard that would be,” you joke.

Agatha snorts. “I’d come visit you all the time. Or I’ll just quit my job and become your trophy wife.”

The thought of the legendary director quitting her job for anyone makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Got to get on the plane, Mrs. Harkness. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“I can’t wait, baby,” she says, her voice dropping an octave and making your stomach warm.

The entire plane ride, you can’t stop thinking about Agatha — about her hands, her mouth, her legs, her cock.

Would anyone notice if you pulled up that video again? Maybe you could go to the bathroom. With how you’re feeling right now, you wouldn’t need more than a few minutes.

And it only gets worse when you finally land and a car is already waiting for you to take you back. Excitement vibrates under your skin as you get closer to your house and you have to fan yourself to calm down. You can already feel your underwear sticking to you uncomfortably — lacy purple lingerie you brought on the trip just so you could wear it home.

When the car pulls into your driveway, you tip the driver and try to walk up to the door as slowly as possible, not wanting to seem too urgent.

The front door opens right when you get there and your wife is standing there, two glasses of red wine in her hand, casual pants and a tank top on, hair in a loose ponytail. You’re not sure she’s ever looked so hot.

“Hi,” you breathe, shutting the door behind you and leaning in for a quick kiss. Agatha deepens it and presses a glass into your hand and you take a long gulp.

“How was the flight?” she asks, sipping on her own wine. You drop the suitcase in the foyer and walk into your living room before plopping down on the white couch. She follows and sits next to you, her thigh touching yours.

Your heart is pumping so fast and you couldn’t care less about the flight because you’re finally here, with her. So you take her wine glass and put it on the coffee table with yours before climbing into her lap and kissing her roughly.

She makes a slightly surprised “oomph” before her tongue is in your mouth, entangling with yours, her hands creeping under your shirt and stroking up and down the skin of your sides. Her fingers are cold and they make you gasp.

“I missed you so much,” you murmur against her mouth and grind down hard on her rapidly growing bulge. She hisses and digs her fingernails into you. “You fucking tortured me.”

She laughs breathlessly, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth. “I thought the video would help. It just made it so much fucking worse,” she admits and your entire body heats up. “I was so lonely — so horny — fuck, baby.” She loses her train of thought when you kiss down her neck and nip.

“I need your cock so bad,” you whimper, having thought of little else for the last twenty-four hours. You slide off her lap and onto the floor between her legs, your body moving faster than your mind, and you’re undoing her pants before either of you realize what you’re doing.

You pull her cock out and lick up the length with your flattened tongue and the sound she makes, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, goes straight to your cunt. She slouches more onto the couch so it’s easier for you to start lathering your saliva all over her. Her hips thrust up every now and then, and when you take the tip in and hollow your cheeks out, her ass fully lifts off the couch.

“God, honey, you suck mommy’s cock so well,” she whimpers and it spurs you on to go further down. There’s an ache in your stomach already and you can feel your wetness on your upper thighs.

Agatha’s hand tangles in your hair, but just rests and lets you go at your own pace. You can feel her twitch against your tongue and you suck harder.

“Baby, god, fuck — you’re so hot, mommy loves your mouth,” Agatha rambles and she throbs when her cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around her. She’s not going to last long, you can feel her pulsing and swelling, her cock growing heavier on your tongue. You think you could cum right now if you touched yourself.

You look up at her through your eyelashes and she groans like she’s in pain and then you pull your mouth off her, gasping for breath, while strands of spit still connect your lips to her cock. “Use me, mommy,” you say hoarsely and her hips involuntarily jump. “Fuck my mouth.”

This time, when you take her cock again, she thrusts her cock deep into your throat over and over. The only sounds in the room are you gagging and her moaning.

“Fuck, honey, I’m going to cum,” she pants and you nod slightly before trying to say something around her cock. But the vibrations against her feel too good and she stiffens before spurts of her cum fill your mouth. She slows her thrusts while she pumps her seed down your throat and you take it all, groaning at the somewhat salty taste.

She pulls out, cock soft, and slumps onto the couch and you wipe a strand of cum off your lip and suck it from your finger. You shift on your knees and she tracks the motion with her eyes, smirking wickedly.

“I always forget how hot and bothered sucking my cock gets you,” she purrs and then jerks her head to the couch. “Take your clothes off and lay down.”

You swallow roughly and get to your feet before teasing her by slowly taking your clothes off. Her fingers dig into the couch beneath her and her limp cock twitches just a bit when you reveal that you’re wearing her favorite lingerie. She’s always been able to recover relatively quickly and your mouth waters at the thought that, soon enough, you’ll have her inside you.

Once you’re naked, you settle on your back, one leg up over the pillows and your other foot resting on the floor, baring your dripping cunt to her. The look in her eyes is positively ravenous and she tosses the hair that’s come loose from her hair tie over her shoulder before situating herself so that she’s on her knees in front of you.

And then she leans down and runs her tongue through your folds — which are practically fused together with how wet you are — and you keen.

“Mommy,” you gasp, back arching. She chuckles against you and the feeling makes you moan. “I need you, please.”

She teases you a little, her tongue circling around your clit but never quite touching it, and your hips grind up to try to get just a little more stimulation. One of her hands trails up your body to pinch your nipple right as she sucks on your clit and you’ve never made such a high-pitched sound in your life.

Your noise drags a strangled moan from her mouth and her hips jerk. She starts to devour you, her tongue lashing against your clit and then thrusting inside you as far as she can go. Her other hand digs into your thigh, holding it open and using it for leverage just the same.

It takes you a little bit to notice what she’s doing — her hot mouth on your pussy has made your brain go completely fuzzy — but when you pick up on her flattened out body on the couch and her ass flexing in a steady rhythm, you clench violently around her tongue.

Agatha is grinding her cock against the couch. Eating you out for three minutes has gotten her so hard that she’s desperately getting any stimulation that she can.

Her fingers continue to tug and roll your nipple and her mouth is furiously lapping at your cunt and you can feel yourself getting so close.

“Please, mommy, Agatha, I’m —” you whine and her hand on your leg removes itself before she quickly slides two fingers into you while she rubs her tongue against your clit. Your walls bear down immediately around her and she curls them up and presses deep inside you. It makes you sob and your hips move on their own accord to chase the orgasm that is about to wash over you.

Agatha’s thrusts against the couch are getting more and more sloppy and she’s moaning against your cunt like she’s never been more content in her life. Your breathing becomes short and shallow and tingles spread through your entire body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence before she sucks roughly on your clit and sends you right over the edge. Your vision goes white for a second, completely overwhelmed with pleasure as she keeps fucking you through your orgasm. She doesn’t stop, and although you have no doubt you’d be able to cum again in no time at all, it’s been too long without her cock inside you.

You tug at her hair weakly until she finally stops and looks up at you, her nose and the entire bottom half of her face absolutely coated with your wetness. Heat flares through your stomach and you almost shove her right back down between your legs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Agatha coos and you whimper at her sweet voice. “Do you need more? Do you need mommy’s cock?”

When you nod eagerly, Agatha grins and crawls back up to her knees and you moan when you see her cock. It’s just as hard as it was before — maybe even harder? Is that possible? — and so red. It looks almost painful.

She bends over you and slides her cock against your entrance, both of you letting out heavy sighs of relief. “Wait,” you choke out, and she stops. You need to feel her deeper.

You turn over from your position on your back and get on your knees and elbows so that your ass is straight up in the air. Agatha sharply inhales and her hands cup your asscheeks before giving each one a little spank simultaneously.

Agatha drags her cock through your folds and then circles your clit with it, the feeling of her skin against yours making you keen.

And then she pushes into you, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. Agatha mews once she bottoms out and holds still for a second, savoring the feeling of your walls milking her.

She starts to move, not even giving you a chance to adjust before setting a fast pace, her hips making a sound every time they slap against your ass. She’s filling you up so good, hitting a spot so deep inside you that makes you gasp each time, and your head drops to rest on your elbows while you start to push back against her thrusts.

Her pace stutters when you clench around her and she grabs onto your hips so tightly that your chest warms at the possibility of having bruises so you can remember just how good she fucked you. She practically slams you back and forth on her cock and there are no other thoughts in your head, no other words you can say, besides “Mommy!”

“I know, babygirl,” she rasps. “You’re taking my cock so well — fuck, I think this pussy was made for me. You were made for mommy’s cock, weren’t you?”

“Yes, god, yes, I was,” you pant, letting her completely use you. It’s like she’s just fucking her fleshlight and, god, that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

She spanks your ass again and the familiar feeling of your orgasm rises steadily in your stomach. You can feel Agatha’s cock throbbing inside you with each thrust, can hear her groans become less restrained as she loses composure for the second time, and you need more.

Your hand snakes down between your body and couch to rub at your clit and your walls instantly clench around Agatha.

“Fuck, babygirl, mommy’s about to cum,” she gasps and it only drives you closer.

You press on your clit while her drives become short and fast, effectively knocking the wind out of you every time. “Cum inside me, mommy, want you to breed me,” you breathe and she falters for a second, a loud, guttural moan tearing from her lips, before recovering and fucking you even harder.

“Yeah, honey, mommy’s gonna breed you,” she babbles in agreement, an urgency you usually don’t hear from her lacing her tone. When you fuck, she usually does cum inside you anyway, but there’s something about asking her to breed you that turns you on beyond words. Seems like it has a similar effect on her too.

Tears gather in your eyes as she keeps thrusting into you and you’re not even aware that you’re cumming before your body spasms and jerks around her, and you keep frantically rubbing your clit to prolong the feeling spreading through you.

Your pussy convulses around her and she stills, grunting lowly, and then her cock stutters a few times inside you before pulsing and you whimper at the feeling of her cum spreading through you, and fuck, you’re so full.

Agatha stays inside you for a few moments, both of you enjoying the feeling, before pulling out. You curse under your breath when her cum oozes out of you in globs and Agatha runs and grabs a towel to clean you up.

You swear when she rubs the towel over your pussy, she brushes against your clit on purpose, and it makes you wince. You’re already sensitive from your two explosive orgasms and you don’t know if you could take anymore.

She helps you stand and the two of you walk up the stairs together, whispering sweet nothings and exchanging soft kisses, and then once you get to your room, Agatha turns on the shower while you sit on the edge of the tub and wait for it to warm up.

“I think next time you leave, I should come with you no matter what so I can fuck you every night for the rest of our lives,” she jokes and you laugh.

“Why did we even make that sex tape then?” you tease.

Her eyebrows wiggle teasingly and she comes closer to you and tugs you off the tub. “I seem to remember you liking that quite a bit. Plus, now when I’m at work and I get bored, I can just pull out my phone and watch what a good slut you are for me.”

Despite you being completely worn out, there’s no ignoring the heat that runs through when she says that. “God, you’re insatiable,” you say, mockingly dropping your jaw, and she chuckles before kissing your lips.

And then she opens the door to the shower for you both to get in and sinks to her knees in front of you. You gasp.

“You love it,” she says before licking through your swollen pussy and you have to lean back against the wall.

Yes, you do.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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stoneexo · 3 days ago

Text

do you picture me, like i picture you?

pairing: sevika x fem reader smut contains: nsfw content!!, degradation, praise, dirty talk, teasing, mocking, cursing (obviously), injuries, bleeding, smoking, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, tribbing/grinding, mutual pining! premise: on a rainy night after years as silco's top accountant, a knock at your door produces an injured sevika in need of your help. that begs the question— why is she here, why you? as the night goes on, and sevika reveals her true intentions behind coming to see you, you finally realize that the feelings you've had for years might've been reciprocated for longer than you'd think. word count: 7.8k (wtf) author's note: here it is! my first fic! hope you guys like it, and i'm looking forward to feedback! heavily inspired at points by chappel roan's song 'picture you', noticed a particular lack of sweet sevika fics where she isn't just super dom, so this is a very self-indulgent fic lol. god i love me good ol' lesbian PINING!

candlelight kisses your face and dances up the walls of your dingy studio apartment, as well as the papers you hold out in front of you. despite the late hour and strained eyes, you still scanned the numbers in front of you, debts, copying the important ones onto a separate fresh piece of paper to your right. having been silco's main accountant (and only accountant for many years until recently), the work was near never-ending. after all, half of the undercity owed him in some way shape or form. however, with the expansion of his criminal enterprise, his 'financial department', if you could even call it that, had grown. there were others to deal with more minor debts, and your main job was to prioritize those who owed more significant amounts— and decide whose debts had to be collected immediately. you are sifting quietly through papers including just that at the moment, silverroot smoke in your hand and a dirty ashtray at your side, at your small two-person table that's pressed against the wall of your tiny apartment. when a loud knocking (more of a banging) comes from your front door, cutting through the silence.

you nearly jump at the intrusion, looking up to process the noise when it came again in a quick, desperate succession. you shoot up, making your way to the door, both concern and fear washing over you; it was past midnight, who could possibly be here this late? you made sure to grab the metal pipe leaning up against the foot of your bed- this time of night, it was more likely to be a robbery than anyone you actually knew. with your tiny kitchen at the back of the studio, your large bed against one wall, and your table and bathroom entrance on the other, it was no more than a couple of feet to your front door.

however, as you unlocked the door and cracked it open, keeping your deadbolt in place, you felt a chill run down your spine and your eyes met sevika's, pressed up against your doorframe with blood soaking her hands. she didn't need to say a word, barely opening her mouth before you're shutting the door to undo the deadbolt, pulling her inside and relocking the door behind her.

as you lock up, you hear her stumble behind you, turning to find her sat at the foot of your bed on the floor, clutching her bloody stomach. "what the hell is going on?!" you blurt out, your concern evident as you made your way across to her. she glance at the metal pipe, still in your hand. following her gaze in confusion and noticed you were still clutching the deadly weapon before dropping it, kicking it almost sheepishly behind you, refocusing on her. "sorry, can't be too safe." you remark as you knelt down in front of sevika, and she allows you to push her hands aside with a wince to get a better look.

you and sevika had worked closely for nearly a decade— after all, she was the one who collected silco's debts. you told her the who, what, and where. and while initially the two of you had butted heads often, things had changed for the better over the past two or so years. since the first time you laid eyes on sevika, to be honest, lighting up a cigar in the back of the last drop, the light emphasizing the muscles along her arm in just the right way— she had stirred something deep inside you. looking up at you like she was ready to kill you as you introduced yourself, her gaze tracing up are down like she would chew you up at spit you out, reading you as a prissy little know-it-all all despite your polite manner. and she wasn't entirely wrong, with your parents having been well-off topsiders who managed to gamble it all away right around your 17th birthday. but despite that, you had been resilient, managing to sell your mind rather than your body and putting your skill for mathematics to use for various loan sharks and casino barons until silco came seeking your services around your 28th. and despite years of successful and faithful service to silco, and being practically as dedicated to him as sevika, she still seemed to see you as nothing but a spoiled topsider who would run back to the life if given the chance.

however, after about 7 years of working together, an unsuccessful high-value collection in the sump that you had tagged along for to ensure its completion was what finally brought you two closer. mainly because she had saved your ass from nearly getting stabbed by the person you were negotiating with before beating them into a bloody pulp and spitting on them, encouraging you to do the same (you did).

you thanked her, which she had never heard come out of your mouth before, and expressed how you appreciated not only her muscle, but her expertise in reading situations that you seemed to lack, she had to finally admit to herself that she may have misjudged you. from then on, things worked more smoothly between the two of you, with her actually collecting debts and not just beating people senseless when she had a bad day as she used to (which ultimately made your job harder- people can't work to pay debts with broken legs). and you made sure to express your appreciation for her consideration.

you even shared a couple of drinks after successful collections here and there at the last drop if the score was big enough, with her walking you home most times to ensure your safety. after all, even though you could hold your own(which she assured you constantly she knew), "can't take the risk of silco's best accountant getting mugged and stabbed on her way back from the job." she'd insist. and you didn't mind in the slightest the extra time spent with her. once or twice you had considered inviting her in as she stood at your door, wishing you a good night, waiting for you to be locked up and safe before going about her evening. but you had decided against it, after all, while you might've found her secretly attractive for years, she had only just started to tolerate you.

but all that begged the question; why was she here now? you were coworkers, and closer than most in the undercity, sure. but you had never been that close, despite the odd shared drinks and your more private desires. surely she could've gone elsewhere? "here, up on the bed." you order, pulling yourself out of your thoughts as you hook your arms under sevika's to help her up as she half-stands and scoots back from the floor to the bed. "i'm bleeding everywhere, your sheets-" she started, face twisting in pain as she settled. "they're old anyways." you insist, giving the wound one last look over, trying to asses the damage. you cheeks flush even more when you notice a happy trail crawling up her stomach from out of her pants, kissing her stomach and meeting her abs. you had to remind yourself yo be appropriate as you refocused on her wound.

sevika's heart is already racing at a mile per minute as your hand leaves her stomach and her own, large, flesh one covers the oozing wound. it beats impossibly faster, however, when you reach between her legs under your bed and fish out your medical supplies, before you pull out the white plastic container, her cheeks flushed with pain. "I'll ask you again- what is going on?" you reiterate as you fish out a needle, thread, gauze and rubbing alcohol.

"one of smeech's idiot grunts had a bad run gambling with me. thought he could get out of it by pulling a fast one with some of his buddies—" she scoffed, wincing with pain as you pressed an alcohol-soaked wad of gauze to the gaping stab wound, jumping up to grab something from your kitchen as sevika kept her eyes trained on you. "again, he's a fuckin' idiot. jus' made me want to collect more," she growled out, watching as you produced a bottle of some nasty-looking brown liquor, hastily making your way back over to her "i managed to beat three out of four's skulls in, but the last one got a good stab in on me before he ran off."

"shit.." you respond frankly, passing the liquor to her and taking over on the gauze, gently brushing her hand aside as you use the clean side you wipe away what blood is left at the wound. "well, once we're done let me know how much he made off with," you sigh at the thought of more paperwork "i'll add it to the docket."

"drink, by the way. this is going to hurt." you remarked, looking over the wound before holding the gauze in place, the needle cradled in between your front teeth as you use your spare hand to begin to thread it. sevika feels hot each time you touch her, unbearably so. and as she watches you use your mouth to hold the needle and your hand expertly threads it— fuck, she can feel her stomach pool up with something slick that she knows isn't blood. yeah, she needs to drink before she does something stupid, she decides, stuffing the bottle in her mouth and slugging back as much as she can before coughing.

the liquor is definitely old, and definitely nasty. it takes everything in her not to break the bottle with the sheer force of her metal hand as she holds it in a death vice looking down at you. you hold the rag back in place and you gesture for her to take over, sevika obliges stiffly with her free hand. trying to control her racing mind.

you get up one last time as you tie the thread off at the end, still holding the needle in your mouth as you pop into your kitchen again, grabbing a few more candles and a lighter, bringing them back over to sevika's hunched-over form and lighting them as you do so. you set them down around you and grab a pillow from the bed beside her as you do so, setting it on the floor before her before kneeling on it. "you're seriously gonna have to stay still 'vika, lights have been out all night so I don't have the best visual with all this blood." you inform her, gently taking over with the rag as you brush her hand aside, her fingers radiating a deep heat.

she feels sick as you gently pat her down once more, her stomach twisting dangerously as she gazes down at you in front of her. it was a dirty sight she had dreamed of for god knows how long; there you were, in between her legs on your knees, the candlelight dripping off you and kissing every curve as her eyes wandered all over. and good lord, your hair, normally tied up, danced down your shoulders. the strap of your tank top hung off your shoulder comfortably, and the shorts you were wearing rode up your thighs just right— and sevika nearly spat out her last mouthful of liquor on you as you hit a sore spot, wincing away from your touch as you retreated from her carefully.

"sorry," you murmured out, gesturing for her to come back as you shifted nervously "next is the fun part though." she came back to you and looked down at her bottle as you readied yourself, taking note of it's lack of contents— jeez, had she really downed that much that quickly? "happen to have anything else before we start?" she questioned, setting it to the side and looking back down at you, doing her best to avoid eye contact.

you thought momentarily before reaching under your bed once again, fishing around (much to sevika's embarrassment) before pulling out another bottle of clear liquor this time. she raised a brow as you passed it to her and you scoffed, "what?".

"nothin, jus' never took you for the drinking type." sevika replied and she uncorked the, once again, half-drunk bottle, "i mean, half the time the guys gotta twist your arm to stay for drinks at the last drop."

you shrugged as you looked her wound over one last time, feeling only a little sick as you watched the blood ooze out. "helps with sleep." you commented with only a hint of embarrassment, readying yourself against her abdomen. even as you pressed against sevika, her solid form held true, and you felt your cheeks grow hot as it registered you were basically pressed against her crotch as well due to the angle. sevika felt warm too, all over, and she prayed to everything there was that you couldn't feel the pool of wetness growing in her pants as you shifted against her and your fingertips pressed against her sensitive skin, trying to get a better angle before the first stitch.

bringing yourself back as sevika sipped her liquor, you tried to swallow your nerves as you checked in one last time, looking up at her for assurance. as she nodded, you pressed in with the first stitch, fighting the urge to wince as you pressed onwards. sevkia gritted her teeth and fought the urge to jerk away and throw up. sure, she was a bit of a masochist, but the feeling of metal and thread moving through her skin would never be pleasant.

she let out a pained groan, stuffing the bottle in her mouth to keep quiet as you kept on. if she was trying to work you up it would be working, you thought. you feel dizzy this close to her. the best you had gotten up till now as her pulling you pack before you got punched in the face by a particularly upset client, or a hand hovering just off the small of your back as you went up stairs after one too many drinks at the last drop; a polite assurance to accompany your unsure steps. and you had been desperate for something more for a while, a long while.

the sounds leaving her mouth and shifting against you made your stomach hot and heavy, deciding to talk to try and distract your wandering mind. "sorry if the stitching isn't the prettiest, 'm outta practice." you murmur, nearly halfway done already as you tried to limit the pain. it was a little sloppy, but it held tight, with minimal blood seeping through the sections you had finished with.

" 's all good doll," she grunted out, looking down at your work before quickly looking away; the sight of you bent over her was something she was not ready for when her head was this heavy with liquor, "not much pretty down there to begin with." she finished off with a chuckle, deciding to pause on the liquor for a moment as it drew low yet again. she closed her eyes, leaning her head back as she tried to focus on something other than the pain in her abdomen or the heat churning in her stomach. working your way along her wound as delicately as possible, you felt yourself sink deeper into the mood that seemed to have sparked between you two.

'doll'. you felt like a giddy teenager the way your chest fluttered as you shook your head and scoffed lightheartedly in disagreement. sevika cracked an eye open in response, her lips curling up in a slight smirk as she looked down at you. "oh? disagree?" she questioned, seeming almost amused as she shifted to lean back on her arms teasingly despite the pain, watching as you lurched forward to follow, practically laying in her lap now as you struggled to hold the needle up so as to not stab her.

your heart leaped with the jump in intimacy— here was sevika, who before was too disgusted to touch you for the first 7 years, and now seemingly too respectful (afraid?); and now, she was instead trying to coax you into her lap like one of her brothel whores. as far as you knew, despite your attraction, you had always been discreet and kept things professional. and sevika, more importantly, had never showed an ounce of interest beyond the general "i need to make sure you don't die and I don't completely hate you."

for a moment, your mind ran circles around the sudden interest— was this serious? was it a test? if it wasn't, how long had she been interested, and how? were you nothing more than a lay, or—

as sevkia let out another small grunt of pain, you pulled yourself again from your momentary distraction, choosing to shift up in a rather cocky manner. moving up to straddle her as the brown-skinned woman nearly choked at the image of you on top of her, candlelight creating a halo behind your hair and kissing your lips.

the muscular woman struggled not to drool and to keep her free hand at her side, nearly tearing a hole in your sheets as she gripped them tightly (in what you assumed was pain). as you neared the end of the once gaping wound, you glanced down at sevika, surprised to see her watching your hands with an intense, hungry gaze, her face flush and sweat dripping down her forehead as the sound of small rips and tears began to emanate from your sheets where she grabbed at them. you could see she was biting her lip, but not in a pained way, and christ, as you put in the final stitch you swore you could hear her moan.

a sudden sense of power washed over you as it finally occurred to you just how into this she was. you had her hanging (literally) by a thread here, waiting in a surprisingly respectful manner for you to confirm her suspicions and let her make a move. you almost wondered if she would even care about closing up the wound at this point.

but regardless, as you tied off your stitching, you held the still attached needle in your free hand and reached for the bottle sevika still held. her gaze followed you as you drank from it; not making a face as you leaned down to wear the threat connected with her skin as you used your teeth to swiftly get rid of the excess, with her both shivering and wincing as your lips brushed against the freshly stitched and bruised flesh. as you sat back up you saw sevika beneath you, the closest to dumbfounded you had ever seen her as her grey eyes stared wide back at you.

"to answer your question," you began, drawing back to grab the discarded bloody rag from the bed slightly behind you (and oh, sevika loved this angle where you twisted just the right way. it pulled your shirt up your stomach, she could almost see right up it—), and returned to your position with it in hand, turning the bottle over in it and dousing it in what (little) was left of the alcohol. "yes, i disagree." you made sure to look her in the eye, using the playful and slightly flirtatious tone as you tried to somehow convey your sincerity and longing through your tone as her stormy eyes held desperately onto yours.

"you're pretty sevika. like, really pretty. you're beautiful. everywhere." you spoke softly, nearing a whisper towards the end as embarrassment washed over you. before you could gush any further, you stopped yourself by pressing the alcohol-soaked rag against sevika's stitches. she curled up and sucked in a pained breath, instinctively grabbing onto the rag as you moved your hand, holding it in place as you gently shifted off of the bed and her.

sevika's stomach churned once again in a confusing mix of warmth, endearment, horniness and disappointment as you moved off and away from her, turning her head to follow you as you went into your kitchen to produce yet another bottle of alcohol (she now put two and two together that you definitely drink more than she though, just not at work), this time some kind of white wine. she felt bubbly inside, and a different type of deeper warmth radiated from her gut, something she couldn't quite describe. sevika had been called a lot of things; handsome, hot, even a babe here and there; but no one had ever called her pretty. let alone beautiful.

you opted to forgo the glass as you popped the cork, trying to look everywhere as you sipped except sevika's figure as she shifted to sit up. you reached out and slid an abandoned ashtray on your counter closer to you, pulling a forgotten sliverroot spliff from it and lighting it up with a nearby box of matches to try and ease your (now shot) nerves. huffing out a large cloud of smoke, you fought back a cough and any more remarks with the lip of the wine bottle in your mouth.

you felt a twist of disappointment in your stomach as it crossed your mind that this would probably just be another fuck for sevika, if she was interested in the bold advance you just made. after all, you knew all about her trips to the brothel- silco paid for them half the time, hell you had to budget them. and the two of you were close enough to have had talks here and there, on 'work trips' (if you could call them that), or late nights going over debt lists. each time it had made you a little nauseous hearing about the other women she had been with, but regardless, you indulged the conversation simply to indulge her and maybe spend a little more time in her presence.

you drew in another hit from your spliff, trying to clear your head as much as possible with it, only looking up at sevika as she got up, still holding the blood-soaked rag in place. you set down the wine bottle and turned to face her, dumping your spliff in the ashtray as you raised the other to scold her. "you need to sit down for at least a minute and let yourself rest, yo—" you barely managed to get a word out as she made her way across the room to you, quickly closing the small space as she reached out for you, pressing you against your fridge with her large frame as she grabbed onto your waist and leaned in, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement.

sevika stopped just short, looming over you, her forehead pressed against yours as she looked down at you, eyes holding intensely onto yours as the two of you panted respectively. your scolding hand was now pressed against her chest, though it made no attempt to hold her back, and after a long moment, her gaze flickered down to your lips and back— a silent but desperate plea for permission. and the moment you began to move in, she crashed against you, nearly knocking your head against the fridge behind you as her lips finally met yours in a messy and heated clash. she held onto you tightly as she pressed into you further, completely forgetting the rag as her metal arm came to your hip, the cool grip feeling nice against your hot skin as a small moan embarrassingly slipped your lips, her tongue slipping past to mingle with yours. she tasted like cigars, and the cheap liquor you had given her, and something else- maybe cinnamon? before you could figure it out, she pulled back for air, and the hand you held on her chest pushed back ever so slightly as you came to your senses.

she immediately drew away and gave you breathing room, face twisting in concern as she loosened her grip on you. "is everything okay?" she nearly gasped out as she tried to catch her breath, desprate to read your expression "did you not—". you quickly shake your head as you avert your gaze, "nono, i did— i do, i do. i've been wanting to do this." you sighed and looked down as your stomach turned and your head pounded "that's not the problem."

sevika took a small step back from you at the mention of a problem, however, she didn't let her hands fall from your hips quite yet, her stomach dropping in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. she wanted to ask what exactly the problem was, but instead found herself waiting for you to speak in silent concern as she could practically see your head spinning with what you wanted to say.

after a long moment, you let out a regret filled sigh, still unable to look her in the eye. "i can't do this if i'm not the only one sevika," you began, trying not to show how sick you felt talking about this. you were sure you must've been pale as a ghost with the way your stomach flipped. "and i know that not fair to ask of you; you're not that kind of person. but i don't think its worth ruining our personal and professional relationship over something that just... just isn't compatible long term." you hated to say it aloud, but the speech you had told yourself a million times left your lips as sevika struggled to process what you were saying.

"i promise its not that i don't want you, i- gods, 'vika, i want to so fuckin bad, i just can't sleep at night knowing i have to share you. it already wrecked me to try and keep track of financing your trips with silco. and i don't want to try and force you to change—" words spilled like bile out of your mouth as you felt your embarrassment and nerves bubble clearly to the surface, unwilling to look up at sevika, staring at the floor until she interrupted you by dropping to the floor on her knees in front of you, making it near impossible to look away.

you finally met her gaze, sure you had some stupid look on your face. but the one on her face was of sad desperation, her hands sliding down ever so slightly to your thighs as she kneeled like a sinner in front of you. "i haven't been to the brothel— i haven't been with anyone in months," she confessed, something serious and level in her tone as she started her ramble; "i can't even think about another woman. don't want to— can't if i wanted to. i don't know what the fuck you did, but whatever it is, it's working doll. 'cause all i can think of with them is you, y'know that? what you'd look like underneath me instead of them." the confession makes your face and core hot, and your heart palpitate more than it was before.

"when i wake up in the morning till i'm laying in bed alone at night, it's you. i can't fuckin focus, i rush to get to work in the morning just so i can see that pretty little face of yours," though the words are sweet, her tone is incensed, drunk on the thought of you and unable to stop talking, like a madwoman preaching her gospel. "and i go home early cause you never wanna stay late and have a drink with me, and i gotta make sure you get home safe, so i go home when you do. and when i go home? all i can think about is what you're doing, if you're thinking of me— if you're thinking of me the way i'm thinking of you. i need you so badly doll."

your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest at the sight of sevika on her knees in front of you as she finally pauses, her intense stare holding you in place as she watches you bite your bottom lip ever so gently. she hardly cares about how worked up it gets her because she wants— no, needs you to know that she cares right now about something more than that, that she cares about you, you, you. all that's been on her mind for the past year had been you. and here you were in front of her looking so ready and sweet and gentle and perfect. as you begin to look to the ground again, she murmurs your name softly. she pulls your gaze back to her; "i didn't come here cause silco was off with jinx, or cause i was 'outta thread, i came here 'cause i missed you, and i needed to see you, and i knew you'd take care of me," she stated, almost as if it were a matter of fact, separation still clear. "'cause you're a good person. not like me— so i understand if you don't trust a word of what i've said tonight. but i swear to you, i swear, that i care about you."

her ramble is only interrupted again by you reaching out for her, and sevika finds herself dumbfounded by how gentle you're still being with her, cupping her face with your hands and gazing down at her as if she were made of glass. and she absolutely lapped up the soft attention— no one in her life had ever handled her as gently as you were now. she fixed her stare on you like a puppy waiting for permission from it's owner, hanging off of your words as you spoke, "i believe you 'vika." your voice was a near whisper and your throat felt tight as you spoke, stomach dancing with unkillable nerves.

"i know you, and i believe you," you continue carefully as she cautiously cupped one of your hands with her flesh one, yours seeming impossibly small in comparison, watching intensely as you bit your lip softly once again. "you don't need to beg." you remarked with a soft breathy laugh, finally managing eye contact and finding her grey gaze to be surprisingly warm for once. but just as quickly as the warmth came, it went, with a sudden shift to something dark and primal as her eyes trailed down your body once again, only stopping at the hem of your shorts.

she looked back up with that same, hungry gaze from before as her lips twisted into that cocky smirk you knew too well, the mechanical hand that gripped your thigh squeezing gently as she turned to kiss the hand that she held, still on her cheek. "let me prove it to you darlin," she murmured through your fingertips before pressing another kiss against them, glancing back down at your waistband as she spoke, "please. promise i'll be gentle."

your face felt hot with embarrassment and at the idea of the offer, but you knew immediately that you weren't going to say no even if you wanted to. how could you? with sevika kissing your hand and holding you so gently, looking up at you like she might eat you up if you tell her otherwise? you didn't know what to do with yourself, and the words felt caught in your throat as all you could manage to do was nod timidly, holding her eye contact as her grin wavered momentarily. " 'm gonna need words, doll." she clarifies, turning her head to face you fully once more as she sets her flesh hand on your thigh once again.

"yes, please 'vika." you spout out, nearly wincing at the over-eager tone leaving your lips. did you really sound like that? sevika's satisfied smile returned as her hands began to slowly creep up towards your waistband, her actions methodical and already teasing in manner. "such good manners darlin" she muttered lowly, pulling at your drawstrings as she leaned in closer, pressing careful, delicate kisses against your stomach as she undid the worn string. they were so light they almost tickled, and as soon as the drawstring was undone, her thumbs were hooked into your waistband, pulling down the old grey plaid pair of shorts as you shivered under her cool metal touch. she left them to pool at your ankles as she finally got to examine what lay underneath, leaning back ever so slightly to soak the sight in. it was nothing special to you, a comfortable grey thong with lace at the top, but to sevika, it was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. as she tentatively licked her lips, she reached up and began to rub you through the fabric using her flesh hand, moving slowly and gently as she glanced up at you through lidded gaze, gauging your response.

the feeling sent a shock through your system, eyes squeezing shut as you cock your head back and swallow a potential whimper. truth be told, you were dedicated to your work, which left little time for affairs like this. it had been too long since you had been touched like this, and as sevika rubbed circles into your clit through the cotton covering it, your whole body felt electric. "shit doll.." you heard sevika murmur out from beneath you, using her metal hand to spread your legs slightly as she studied the damp and darkening fabric between your legs, "you're really putting on a show for me aren't you?" as she slid the panties down your waist, you cracked your eyes open and nearly came at the sight of her— eyes close, sniffing them. you didn't think there could be a filthier sight than this, as she opened her eyes and smirked wickedly at you, tossing the pair haphazardly behind her as she gripped your hips and spun you around, pressing your front half against the cool metal of your fridge.

you fought back a shiver as sevkia spread your legs once again, almost bent over against the fridge as you felt her hot breath against your cunt. you couldn't fight back your noises this time as she played with your entrance, gliding two flesh fingers against it as she sucked in a breath and chuckled. "no need to be quiet darlin', 's not like the rent'll go up over one noisy night..." she teased as you whimpered slightly, glancing between the mess that was your pussy, and your face, as you tried to look back at her.

"unless there's been more than one noisy night," she began, her expression darkening as she pressed into your cunt, starting with one thick finger as you cried out uncontrollably "and you brought some other bitch back here, hmm?" you knew it wasn't an interrogation, but as her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy you couldn't help but rebuke her claims, her voice whiney and hot. "no— no! just you 'vika!" you whimpered out, struggling to get through the sentence as she set a steady and unrelenting pace, holding your weak gaze as you looked over your shoulder at her "only you."

she raised a questioning brow at you, but deep down, she knew you were telling the truth. she had barely touched you, but as she worked steadily on you, adding another finger cautiously as you cried out. there was already that fucked-out look on your face. still, she felt the need to tease. "really, doll? only me?" she mocked, repeating your words back to you in the same tone as she worked her way deeper into your cunt, setting her metal hand on your hip and pressing you into the cool metal in front of you even more so. "yes 'vika, only you— fuck, i haven't had time for this shit in this months," you gasped out, the confession spilling desperately out of your mouth as you began to lose all composure, embarrassment sinking in "even when i did, i only thought about you sevkia." you whimpered her name out sweetly at the end, like a prayer "i'm all yours."

that sent her over the edge; sevkia's face and cunt grew hot as she nearly ripped her fingers out of you, loosing any sense of gentleness when she did so. you swore at the loss as she wrapped her mechanical arm around your waist and swept your legs up with her warm one, man-handling you towards the bed before you had much time to process what was happening.

she laid you the bed more carefully than you expected, making sure to set your head back on one of your pillows as she put you down. you finally had a good look at her now, and the image made you hotter than you already were; the image of her towering over you on just her knees was enough to make you drool as she looked down at you like a predator does its prey. but as she made her way down towards your sopping cunt, you quickly realized she had a trail of drool of her own dripping down her chin as she eyed you like prey beneath her. her grey eyes could pierce a hole through your skull right now, you were sure; and if you didn't know better, you'd almost be afraid.

sevika was quick to dip down and lap up the juices left behind from her previous efforts, lavishing in the sweet taste and sweet noises you made. sevika's finger presses against your entrance teasingly as she starts to play around with your clit, and it doesn't take much longer before she slides two fingers in you; her middle and ring, and scissors them in you so you adjust to the size of them properly again. you groan, muffling yourself into the back of your hand. it's not long before she's restlessly fucking her fingers into you while you needily hump into the palm of her scarred hand as she works carefully at your clit with her mouth. it's only a couple of moments before she realizes you're trying to quiet yourself down, and she is quick to adjust. she pulls her mouth away from you and lets out something akin to a snarl as she pins the hand you're using to cover your mouth, being careful not to crush you under her mechanical grip. "what did i say earlier, sweetheart? i wanna hear you." she demanded, moving her face in close to yours as she continued working on your pussy, relishing in how quickly the moans spilled freely from your lips.

it doesn't take long before you're getting closer; pussy tensing, your heart beating impossibly fast. "needed this 'vika," you breathlessly whine as you rut into her hand, eyes squeezing shut as she works you further. at this point you had begun to babble, meaningly words falling out of your lips, forming a symphony of her name, "fuck"s and "don't stop"s in between the ramble. as you reach your end, you felt sevika's cool metal fingers squeeze your cheeks and turned your head back to face her. "look at me darlin," you expected her tone to be rough like before, but it was uncharacteristically soft, almost sentimental "wanna see every little look on your pretty little face, 'hmm?"

you forced your eyes open and met sevika's once again, grey but warmer than ever before, staring at you softly, sweat dripping down her sharp and scarred face. "good job sweetheart" she cooed, "you're doing so good..." she brought her thumb up to flick your now neglected clit, and with that, you fall apart, nearly crying as your head churns from the heat, liquor and smoke. "oh— please don't stop, don't, don't sev please." you begged, any composure long gone as you ground out the last of your orgasm on your hand; and sevika happily granted your request, more than content to watch you fall to pieces on her fingers.

once your moans became pitchy and your hips began to stutter, she knew you were done, slowing down to a stop and gently letting go of your face, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck as she slipped out of you. you whimpered at the loss, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, nearly gasping at points. after a moment of peppering you, sevika pulls off from you, and all you can do is whine, finding moving to be too taxing at the moment. "don't worry doll, 'm not going anywhere." sevika coos from the end of the bed, pulling her shirt off over her head as she begins to strip.

it's not long before she is back over you again, and her hands are under your shirt, a confusing mix of cold and hot on either side as she pulls off the last piece of clothing hiding you from her. you relished in the skin-to-skin as she did so. tossing it to the side, she leaned back to sit on her heels, and you could tell by the almost dumb look on her face that she was too busy admiring the view to see you were doing the same— and how could you not? she had chiselled abs and a happy trail that you would definitely be following later, both of which you knew of before. but to your pleasant surprise, as your eyes drifted to her chest, two pierced nipples shone back at you, and you had to fight the urge to suck on them this instant. you couldn't help the words falling out of your mouth, "you're perfect 'vika, y'know that?"

your tone was soft, and you looked her in the eyes as you said it, smiling softly at the conflicted expression on her face. you could already tell she had no idea what to do with the compliment, and you found it slightly amusing that with one sentence you could somewhat fluster the normally stoic woman. "i don't know about that, hon. you, on the other hand?" she began, leaning down to kiss a line from your neck down your chest and stomach as she spoke, "you're flawless."

as she reached just above your clit, she stopped and looked back up at you with a devious grin. "i hope you had 'nough time to catch your breath, though. cause i'm sure as shit not done with you yet."

—

you don't know how long it's been, all you know is you're approaching what you think is your third orgasm of the night as sevika grinds her cunt into yours. she's intent on cumming now, practically using you for her own pleasure—and you're a complete mess of babbling whines and moans as a result. "plea—se—" you're begging for nothing as you lie in a pool of your cum beneath the two of you, and you can't get enough of her or her abs flexing with every desperate hump. you wanna lick up the cum that's clinging to her happy trail, and the nasty thought makes you shiver.

"you," she murmurs hoarsely, "feel— perfect darlin. you're so perfect." she can't stop repeating your praise from earlier as she fucks herself closer to the edge "feel so fuckin good". but you're well over that, gripping your already torn sheets that have slid completely off the mattress. you forgot how to breathe; your mind is already fuzzy from the alcohol and smoke from earlier, even if it's fading, and even fuzzier with sevika still grinding into you.

your inchoerient begging is breathless and whiney, and you're almost sure you must've died and gone to the great beyond because this was too good to be real. you sob out from overstimulation, unable to hold back tears as they began to trickle down your face, "sevika please—!"

sevika lets out a desperate moan of her own, followed by several more curses as she finally lets go of her own orgasm, grinding out desperately into you as she gasped for air and rode it out. eventually, she lazily collapsed to your side, still struggling to catch her breath as she called your name and turned to face you. you do the same, and shes quick to reach out and pull you close to her, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face into the top of your hair. you tangle your legs with hers as you let out a content sigh, tucking your head into her chest as you hooked your arms underneath hers.

it was warm and intimate as the two of you winded down silently, enjoying each other's breathing and skin as you could hear a quiet rain begin to patter outside. you weren't sure how long the two of you were laid like that, but eventually, you shifted back to half-sit up on your arm, still somewhat looking up at sevika as you spoke due to her large frame. "so..." you began softly, a small chuckle on your lips as you struggled to find the words. "so?" she mirrored, raising a brow in a slight, tired amusement. you sighed, and started again, tone slightly more serious this time, "look, i'm not asking for, or expecting, any kind of serious commitment, 'vika. i just wanna know where we stand after—"

you pause when sevika calls your name softly and shifts to sit up slightly, even though it doesn't exactly level the two of you. "if you want me—" she pauses too, as if the words feel foreign or if she is not quite sure what to say herself, "if you want me i'm yours. i've been yours for a while." you can tell the confession comes hard to her, it doesn't take a fool to look at sevika and tell she doesn't exactly do feelings.

regardless, you smile lightly, reaching forward as you lean in for a timid kiss, more shy and intimate than the ones before, one that you let linger for some time before pulling back slightly. "i'm yours sevika. wasn't just saying that so you wouldn't stop." you finish your sentence with a small laugh.

you can see a little tension leave her shoulders as you speak, and a smile graces her lips as she steals another quick kiss from you, desperate to be close. you finally allow yourself to rest, falling back into her arms as she pulled you back in and tugged what was left of the covers back over your naked bodies. you feel her let out one last sigh as she settles in next to you, and it's only then that exhaustion hits you as sevika caresses circles into your arm.

it's not long after that before the two of you succumb and fall into sleep to the sound of rain pattering against the window above your head, nothing to worry about until tomorrow morning, when you'd eventually have to go back to the pile of forgotten paperwork sitting on your table.

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reignpage · 3 days ago

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how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

#reignpageasks

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chrissturnsfav · 2 days ago

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omg imagine missionary with chris and you ask him if he’s mad at you mid fuck 😭

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃

you ask chris if he's still mad at you during apology sex over a silly argument.

ᰔᩚ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), bf!chris, apology sex, slight angry sex, softdom!chris, fluff, pet names

ᰔᩚ w.c. 939

you and chris had gotten into a stupid ass argument not too long ago. it was dumb, over him making plans with his brothers without letting you know. he knew you felt comfortable when he told you his plans, but he failed to do that today.

so now, he's most definitely going to be late to dinner reservations with nick and matt. this wasn't anything unusual—you and chris almost always had sex after a fight.

but this argument was different because you both hadn't come to a settlement before the sex started. all the other times, you and chris made sure to apologize to each other before fucking.

that's why you were confused why chris impulsively just grabbed your face while you were in the middle of yelling at him, kissing you hard as his tongue delved into your mouth without asking for entry—but you reciprocated, of course.

and now, he's got you flat on your back against the silk bedsheets, thighs pushed up to your chest as his fingers dig into the flesh. your hands are flailing around helplessly as you pant, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted.

but why is it so unenjoyable today?

with every tight and hard thrust he gives your weeping cunt, it feels off, different, almost wrong. it feels good—sure. but it's not the typical take-your-breath-away fuck that chris always provides.

and he can tell you're not feeling it. you're faking moans, you're trying to focus on the sensation of his cock filling you to the hilt, trying to tell yourself it feels fine—feels perfect as usual. but you know it doesn't.

chris groans from above you in annoyance, leaning his face down closer to yours, messy waves in front of his eyes as he tilts his head, studying your exaggerated expression of pleasure.

you can feel his minty breath fanning on your cheeks, making your heart pound as your hands find their place on his shoulders, fake whines leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

"fuck is up with you?" he breathes in a grunt, narrowing his eyes at you. there's a lingering annoyance in his voice—presumably from the argument you two had minutes ago.

"h-hm?" you squeak, your voice shaky. it's so obvious you aren't feeling this. he can read you like a book, and you know it, so the fact that you'd fake pleasure when you know he would find out annoyed him a little more.

chris rolls his eyes, scoffing as he completely stills his hips, loosening his bruising grip on your hips as he frustratedly runs a hand through his hair, "asked you a question," he says dryly, furrowing his brows at you in annoyance.

you chew your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms over your chest as you avoid his gaze. you know exactly why it feels off tonight, but you think what's on your mind sounds stupid, and would sound even more dumb out loud.

chris huffs, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to contain his growing frustration, "why won't you look at me?" he asks, his tone dripping with annoyance—some leftover from your earlier argument, some from your feigned pleasure.

you swallow thickly, exhaling a deep breath before forcing your eyes on his icy blues that are swirling with curiosity and irritation. "i just..." you mutter, chewing the inside of your cheek now.

"c'mon," he mumbles, softening his tone a little to try and get the words out of you, but staying firm. he speaks, patting your cheek, "talk to me. can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong, baby."

the softening of your tone provides a bit of reassurance, your body slightly loosening up as you speak with a tiny ounce of confidence, "are you still mad at me?" you mumble softly, nervous of his reaction.

but to your slight surprise, chris' face softens completely, his face dropping. he furrows his brows in confusion, shaking his head, "what?" he scoffs, placing a hand soothingly on your knee, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your smooth skin. "nah, why would i be?"

you feel a slight rush of relief, your body loosening up even more as you drop your crossed arms from your chest. "well...we didn't apologize...you know, before," you tell him quietly.

a slight soft smile tugs at the corners of chris' lips, his other hand coming up to gently cup your jaw as he shakes his head, "you think i'm still on that shit?" he chuckles, reassuringly stroking your cheek. "i'm not mad at you. at all."

you feel completely at ease now, exhaling a breath of relief you weren't even aware you were holding in, "oh," you chuckle awkwardly.

chris smirks, scoffing as he shakes his head again, "truth is, i probably should've told you about my plans. know you like knowing what i'm doing, since you're so obsessed with me," he snickers, teasing you to try and lighten the mood.

you roll your eyes, a slight heat rushing to your cheeks as a smirk tugs at your lips. you playfully shove his shoulder and shake your head, "shut up," you mumble.

chris laughs in amusement, "i'm just fucking with you. but no, i'm not mad, baby. way over that," he tells you softly, smiling reassuringly at you.

"okay," you sigh softly, relief washing over your body like a tidal wave as you smile up at him—which slowly turns into a suggestive smirk. "can you finish now?" you giggle coyly.

chris scoffs, rolling his eyes as he smirks, now gripping your thighs, "legs up," he says, pointing to his shoulders.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @mattysketchup

@chrissturnsfav ™

#chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader

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thoughtsforsoob · 2 days ago

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how ateez shows their gf princess treatment <3

note: I hope this work finds you well! I really want to make this look good so please let me know if anything should be edited. Thank you and please enjoy.

hongjoong

you're his PRINCESS! he takes it so seriously too. he puts a ring on your finger as soon as possible and treats you like actually royalty. is at your beck and call 24/7. his fsvorite thing to do is take you to events and show you off to all his friends and colleagues. "this is my wife. isn't she so beautiful? shes so smart and talented too." will show you off to anywhere and everyone. he's just so in love with you. he also let's you into his studio and has a special chair for you and plenty of pillows and blankets.

seonghwa

dresses you up in the finest clothing ever. sure, if you already have your clothes that you like that arent from any big name brands, he's not gonna toss them out or anything. he's only going to add your collection. designer bags, clothes, shoes, and even glasses if you wear them. he'll deck you out in only the more coveted brands.

yunho

he will turn off any game for you at any time if you ask for his attention. he wouldn't do this for anyone else but you. you're his special princess so you take priority over his games. he also teaches you all about his hobbies and take you to all the cool pop up's and museums. if you want anything, he always makes sure to get it for you.

yeosang

takes care of you with everything! literally everything. he may be a busy idol but he makes sure you take your vitamins, do your morning and night routines, take a little bit of personal time, and everything else. if you're studying, he'll make sure you take a break. he'll run your a warm bath and make you something to eat after. he gives mother hen vibes but it's not in an annoying, naggy way. he just loves you and want's to make sure you're healthy.

san

picks you up and carries you everywhere. he's so strong and he loves showing off his strength to you. if you're siting on the couch, minding your own business, he'll throw you over his shoulder and take you up to your shared bed room. he also carries everything for you, especially shopping or grocery bags. his princess should never carry anything.

mingi

buys everything for you! mingi needs a gf that is okay with him paying for everything but he will literally lose it if you pay for him. he has the mindset that dudes should pay for everything and take care of their partners, but it's not like in a toxic way where he won't let you work or anything. he would just prefer that your money goes towards spoiling yourself (although you never need to because he spoils you so much).

wooyoung

i have two for him so hang on tight. wooyoung is such a romantic and i cannot express that enough, first of all, he drives you everywhere! he would rather get hit by a train than let you ride the said train all alone. if he can drive you, he is going to drive you. also...he lovesss taking you on 3-4 day trips around the world. he takes you to paris, tokyo, la, Shanghai....everywhere! takes care of everything too. ugh i want my own wooyoung (im so scared of driving please drive me!)

jongho

he lets you sit on his lap. even if you get shy or complain that you're too heavy. he lterally does not care. he will pull you down onto his lap and bear hug you so you can't get up or leave. he thinks you look so cute and just like a princess when you're sitting on his lap.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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l0vergirls · 3 days ago

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take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

#dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #red robin x reader #yandere dc #<< just in case i decide down the line to make this a yandere thing idk #— dc.#— yan writes.#0 plot in mind just vibes

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cannibaliist · 2 days ago

Text

Pink Matter - Sevika x F!Reader (18+)

One shot | Part 2 soon??

Contains: 18+, sickfic, slight modern!au, smut, explicit content!!, NSFW, mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, established relationship, no use of y/n, nicknames of 'baby girl, sweet girl, etc.' mentioned, dom!sevika, strap ons, oral!s e x reader recieving, rough, vaginal s e x

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: the Sevika brainrot got too much so here we are lol . hope you enjoy !!

cross posted on AO3

title inspired by Pink Matter by Frank Ocean

Sevika likes you even when you're sick. Because there is no other grown woman or man she'd allow to perspire on her sheets and take up all the space on her mattress on an early Saturday morning when she's finally free from work and Silco's nagging. So yeah, she likes you all right.

You don't usually get sick often, especially with her watching over you to make sure you're warm during Zaun's freezing weather.

Your sweat-coated skin soaks through the double layer of navy blue sheets on the bed. It turns the blue almost black and Sevika can only think about how her shit – the one pair of sheets she probably owns – is definitely close to fucked up. God, you are so lucky she doesn't want you to die from whatever you contracted after fucking around all night during the misting rain, laughing and dancing high off your mind from the cheap weed Sevika bought off her coworker. That mixed with what the people called “Shimmer Juice”, you were half out of your mind for the night.

“Baby get the hell inside,” Sevika had told you last night, but all you did was smile at her. That blinding ass smile full of white teeth and crescent shaped eyes that made her heart start thumping a little faster in her chest. Fuck. She really was in love with you.

So of course, now you were running a fever and swaddled in whatever blankets she could scrounge up around her room. Sevika likes you like this though, fading in and out of consciousness.

Snoring softly and muttering small words while grasping at whatever body part of Sevika you could reach to keep you warm. You get super clingy when you're sick, one of the only times you are completely super sweet and malleable instead of talking back to Sevika like she won't put you in your place the next moment, but your freak ass is into it so she has to calm herself down another way to not give you exactly what you want. Still, she smiles at your petty actions. Helps to know you really want her in every single form.

She decided to run a few errands while your younger form slept, grabbing soup ingredients – Does my love prefer celery or corn? – bottles of water and a thermometer that she's never bothered to keep in her home before. The things my baby makes me do, she thinks as she puts her things into her grocery basket.

When she gets back and puts the groceries away she expects for her baby to still be sound asleep but instead you seem a bit off. Hair splayed out everywhere with your chest rising and falling heavily. A flush in your cheeks that's still so visible even with the color of your skin, tinted a steady red even in your sleep.

Sevika wondered if you were having a nightmare, thrashing and moving in your sleep like you do when your dreams get really bad, fighting more than just sickness.

But instead, your whole body is trembling, your hips unconsciously grinding into the sweat-stained sheets. Sevika walks closer, watching you move your body further into the bed, soft little groans escaping your plush lips. She stills as you mutter a soft cry for her. “Sevika…” She holds her breath, slowly approaching the voice. “Sevi, please.”

Sevika smirks to herself, touching a hand to your warmed skin shaking your awake. “Get up, sweet girl.” She had to take your temperature now before giving you any water. You startle with a groan, whining like you always do. Some nonsense about a “-middle of a good dream. ruin everything.”

“Open your mouth for something other than running it baby.” Even though you're slightly annoyed from being woken up from such a nice dream, you do as instructed, mouth wide and hinting for more than just a thermometer.

Sevika felt a twinge in her pants. Her desire to slide her strap down your awaiting throat was just too tempting. Instead, she cups your jaw, and sticks the thermometer tip under your tongue. You glare and let out a soft whine of disappointment. “Tease,” you mutter.

Sevika rolls her eyes at the petulant behavior and pulls out the thermometer at the beep. “101.4, Told your crazy ass to sit down last night and now here we are,” she scoffs. “Sit up and drink some water.”

You groan and turn your head away, letting yourself fall back onto the bed. “Don't want to.”

Sevika sighs, sliding her warm fingers over your sweat-soaked hair, small pieces threatening to curl at the nape of your neck. They feel nice as they start to comb at your scalp. “Listen, you've been playing housewife all week, cleaning and cooking all nice for me, let me take care of you now baby girl.”

You groan again, weak hands gripping the edge of the blanket, trying to pull it off of you. You sigh into the pillow, words all muddied and unclear. “Speak up baby, I'm not straining to hear you.”

You take a deep, labored breath in, and turn her head towards Sevika, cheeks getting all hot. “Said you want to, so take care of me.”

Her eyes narrow at you, “What do you think I'm doing?”

“No Sevi, I need you to fuck me. Please.”

Sevika grips your chin, hard, probably could leave a few bruises if she tried hard enough. You twitch under her touch, ultra-sensitive from the fever. “You're outta your mind right now. You need to rest ”

You bring a hand to Sevika’s thigh as she hovers over you, grasping with more strength than you probably needed to have. “I need it, please. I'll be good.”

Just the thought of your body loose and desperate sends a rush straight to the older woman's crotch. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Sevika.” Your voice was exhausted, but eager, wide eyes staring endlessly into her own dark grey ones.

She watches the quickened rise and fall of your chest as she goes to take off her vest and her pants. Of course she's commando. Of course. The thing you're waiting for is less than 5 steps away, tucked in the nightstand drawer. Sevika is quick to grab the strap-on and fasten it around herself. It's a beautiful deep shade of purple and thick and practically gleaming as she steps closer to you. You scramble out of your sleep shorts and t-shirt to feel her presence even closer.

“Gonna slick me up baby? Get me ready for you?” She asks as she sizes you up. Her eyes are dark, hungry, for you.

You nod dumbly. So ready to suck her off like you've done times before.

She drags her metal hand along your lower leg, up your shaking thighs, over your awaiting ass in your underwear, and up to your back. You twitch at the cold of the metal, too much sensation from such a small gesture. Simply Sevika’s touch – gentle strokes across the skin – was overwhelming.

Sevika gently tugs on your jaw, testing how pliable and easy you promised to be. She was met with no resistance as your mouth opened with ease, “doing so good already baby.”

Sevika stepped closer, hovering over your face, sliding in her strap until she hit the back of your throat with no resistance. You were too tired for a reflex, too tired to choke. Fuck, she could do anything she wanted to you right now and you wouldn't even flinch. Something dark coiled in Sevika's stomach, if she was a better person she would've ignored your pleas and doped you up with enough medicine to tire you out but she wasn't an entirely good person, and you liked her that way.

Sevika worked your mouth, it's as if she could feel the warm back of your throat every time she bottomed out. But the small quiver of breath on the straps cockhead was a reminder that you needed to breathe.

Tears welled in your eyes, and Sevika had to fight coming right then and there. She wanted to fill your throat, make you keep her strap warm as you swallowed every last bit of her. The only fight you had was an involuntary gasp for air. Sevika held you there for just a second longer, slowly sliding out of your mouth, warm and wet. As Sevika’s strap head passes your lips, you groan, trying to get Sevika to put herself back where she belongs.

Sevika replaces the emptiness with her fingers, laying them on your tongue instead. “Not now baby girl.”

Sevika hovers over you, staring at your parted lips, watching your eyes flutter as sweat drips down your brow. She lowered her hips, slowly dragging her strap along your entrance. Sevika’s other hand traveled down to the leaking pussy between your thighs, mouth watering at the wetness. She thumbs your clit slowly as she grasps your ass with her metal hand.

You gasp at the soft friction, pushing your hips up to meet Sevika, breath heavy. “Need you Sevi, please.”

“Keep your hands up. Just like that.” You cross your arms above your head as you ache to touch Sevika back. Your skin is hot and flushed and you feel like you'll explode any second that your girlfriend isn't touching you.

“Hurry, please.”

“Patience pretty girl,” Sevika warns. Your whines were cut short by Sevika’s mouth meeting your own. The kiss was rough, more teeth meeting lips and gasps than anything else but it was perfect. Just like her.

Sevika pulls away and watches her baby's head lift off the pillow to chase her, falling back almost immediately with a huff. You let your hands move from where they lay against the pillow crossed to pull Sevika back down into a kiss. Desperate.

Pulling away again Sevika pins your wrist to the mattress with a growl. You stare up at her, eyes shining with tears but overfilled with lust and want. Fuck. “You don't listen for shit, girl. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”

Sevika kisses along your jaw and neck, soft nips and bites that you wanted to feel more of. Wanted them to bruise. To show everyone who you belonged to. But all you can do is whine and mumble out whispers instead of words.

“Use your words, baby.”

You choke on your words. “M-more. Please.”

Sevika leans back down, crashing her lips into yours. “You want more?”

You groan into her mouth. “Please, anything.”

Sevika pulls away, spitting into your mouth, hungry and aching. “Swallow. Want you to remember that taste.” You swallow greedily, heart pumping as Sevika kisses down the soft skin of your stomach, inching closer to your cunt.

She smirks at the sight, you already so desperate for more, as she runs her fingers up and down your warm entrance. You moan at the sudden intrusion, rocking back onto Sevika’s hand as she slips a finger in, all the way to the knuckle, groaning at the heat and the way you're clenched so tight around her.

“Another please, Sevika.”

One finger quickly becomes three, and you can't even flinch at the rushed invasion, just blabbering and moaning as Sevika's thick fingers slam into your pussy. Your hips rock against Sevika’s hand as you can do nothing but wordlessly whimper and beg for something.

Sevika hits that special spot in quick little pumps, bringing your muted cries to loud gasps.

“Almost there, baby.” Sevika tells you, her ability to hold herself back from jumping your bones entirely is slowly starting to crumble.

When she deems you prepped enough, she takes her fingers away and slides them into her mouth making you moan. She licks her fingers like it's nectar as she sucks them into her mouth.

Finally, Sevika settles between your trembling thighs, the color a hue she's always loved from all the time you spent tanning in the sun with no worries in the world.

A gentle groan passes by your lips as Sevika sucks a mark into the flesh of your legs, nipping along the skin turning it into a pinkish red that will soon blossom into a deep purple. She grazes her teeth along your inner thigh, biting down hard. She trails her fingers up the backs of both your legs, settling on your ass and grabbing at the soft flesh, sending a shiver up your spine.

You mewled, begging. “Need you please.” You could feel Sevika smile into the mark she made on your thigh, turned on beyond relief at your begging. “Just a little longer baby.”

Giving you a pat on the head, she lowers her awaiting mouth to your weeping cunt, though you're already close even from her thick fingers inside of you. You moaned at the contact, gripping the sheets as Sevika licks you up clean. You resist the overwhelming urge to clutch at her hair as she works you out, but you promised not to move your hands. You'd listen this once, just for her.

She works her tongue over your swelling clit, swirling her tongue, and moving back down. She ate you like a pro, taking you deeper in her mouth, breathing in the smell of her girl and the tickle of your hairs along her face. Whether you had a bush or shaved for some occasions, she was very appreciative of the effort, regardless of how you presented yourself to her.

She fucks you with her tongue and only adds in a single finger. Pistoning faster as she works at your clit. It's all too much too soon and she pulls off to lick you up again, fingers still angled over your sweet spot, when she hears a loud cry. You've already cum. Making the sheets stain a darker shade of navy blue.

“W-what the fuck?” You say more to yourself than anyone else. The fever makes you even more sensitive, even the littlest bit of stimulation making you come, it's insanely embarrassing to your already dwindling ego.

“Think you can do one more?” the older woman chuckles. You just shake your head nervously, tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “No more.”

Sevika's eyes harden, grasping your hips and digging her nails in. The clutch of her metal fingers into the flesh of your hip leaves you reeling – knowing it's gonna bruise later. “If I tell you one more, then it's gonna be one more.”

He slicks up her glistening strap with whatever lube she had on her dresser already half empty, and positions her above you. She lines herself up, pushing slow yet unyielding into you. You can't help but scream as Sevika pulls out and slams her strap into you, purposely missing your sweet spot just to make you beg for it.

You try and bite your arm to quiet your whimpers, it was embarrassing wanting her so bad, wanting her dick, her strap, inside you so bad. Sevika reaches up, grabbing your face until they drift to your throat. “You can be loud, baby, let me hear you.”

She fucks you slow and deep, wanting to savor every second you're so pliant underneath her. Your mind is quieted by the fever, now, basically delirious. She uses just enough pressure against your throat to let you breathe, already labored and erratic.

It feels like your whole body is on fire. Only filled with thoughts of Sevika Sevika Sevika. Those words chant themselves over and over in your mind like a mantra.

Sevika places your legs over her shoulders and enters again with no hesitation, fucking into you even faster. “Touch yourself sweet girl. Wanna see you cum again.”

You whimper. “Sevika, I don’t think-”

Sevika puts a finger over your mouth. “You don't get to tell me no princess, you wanted this, remember?” It was mocking, less a question and more a statement. Of course you remember, it's burned into the back of your mind.

Your weak hand reaches for your clit to give it at least a little bit of stimulation. But there's no strength left in your body to bring yourself to come again, your grip was nothing more than a soft coaxing. Tears fill your eyes from frustration, from pleasure, a sharp mixture of both.

With a laugh, Sevika slaps your pathetic hand away and brings her hand to your clit herself. Sevika continues to stroke you, angling her hips to hit even deeper into your tight pussy. It's all too much and all you can do is sob.

Sevika moves her vacant metal hand from your hip to your throat, choking you properly now. Sevika’s pace quickens, folding you in half with your thighs against her sticky chest, thrusting as deep into you as she could. Your eyes began to roll, chest heaving from a sob but no words can escape her lips.

“Please don't stop, please.”

You barely have time to process what’s happening before Sevika folds you in half again. You love the way the older woman makes you feel when she's caged over you. You're not overly short or tall, but you still feel so small in comparison to Sevika’s more broad-shouldered frame. You feel your body shake as Sevika sheathes herself back inside fully with one single thrust. You barely manage to take it, body tightening around her cock reflexively. It's basically an extension of her at this point.

She lets her hand slither from around your neck to your boobs, fondling them as she fucks you harder. You scramble against the sheets with sweaty hands and weak fingers, trying to get away from the pistoning dick tearing you apart. Sevika is so big inside of you, he can hardly feel anything else.

She kisses you and it feels like heaven all over again.

Feels like you're drowning in pure bliss. She keeps fucking you through it, making you cum over and over again, watching as your body writhes in agony and overstimulation. It almost hurts, so fucking much, but it feels so so good. You love that Sevika isn’t afraid to handle you roughly – isn't afraid to slam her hips forward like she wants to destroy your guts with each thrust – but she isn't afraid to truly make love to you either, all nice and slow. Here, your mind finally has the ability to finally shut off and you can submit yourself fully to the older woman.

When Sevika finally comes it's like you can practically feel the strap swell inside of you.

Sevika pulls out with a groan, as if it really is her own cock and not a toy. Something about it has your stomach swirling into knots again.

She licks her lips. “Not done with you yet baby.”

Sevika grabs you by your waist and flips you over, shoving your face deep into the mattress.

“Fit around this cock so well baby girl. Bet you're wishing it was real huh?”

You can barely process Sevika’s words, only letting out a jumbled, “only yours Sevi” before your mind is clouded by a thick sheen of tears, sweat, and cum. You can't count how many times you come before you pass out from the fever and from working your body so hard.

————

When you come to, the first thing you feel is emptiness. The emptiness of your cunt and the bed as Sevika is nowhere to be seen. It triggers something in your chest and he can't help the sob that gets stuck in her throat. You want to call out for her, cry, something, but your throat is wrecked and raw.

“Sevika?” you push out, voice weak from exertion.

After a few moments of silence, you hear the floorboards creak near the bedroom door. It's Sevika with a bowl of something in her hand and a bottle of water. She smiles at you, her lopsided smile glistening against the window light and it's all too domestic.

“You aight Bambi?” The special nickname makes you want to jump her bones all over again. Her voice is soft as if speaking any louder would frighten you. But you're strong, already feeling better from your nap. You just nod, reaching an arm out towards Sevika's approaching figure to motion her to the space on the bed next to you.

There’s different sheets this time, a creamy grey color and you wonder how long you were out cold so that she was able to replace sheets right under you.

“I'm right here baby hold on.” He grabs the thermometer from the nightstand, motioning for you to open your mouth again.

“98.9” she says after the beep. She cracks a wide smile, “fucking miracle my strap is huh?” You can only roll your eyes, “don't get too cocky, Sevi. I was right after all.”

Sevika wraps you in a hug, breathing in the faint smell of sex, and the smell of your shampoo. “Eat your soup and if you're good I'll let you sleep with it in.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, grinning larger than life. The little gap between her teeth has your heart melting as you kiss her softly.

“I love you so much Sevika.” She presses your foreheads together and holds the sides of your face with her hands.

One kiss to your left eyelid, one kiss to your right lid, another to the tip of your nose, and finally another one your lips as she clutches you tighter. “I love you too baby.”

You eat your soup with a hunger you've never had before in your life. You go to sleep very happy that night, stomach full and pussy full as she spoons you as you both fall asleep.

~~~~

#sevika fic #sevika #sevika smut #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane smut #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #sevika x female reader

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 1 hour ago

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I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

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keikikait · 2 days ago

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ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.8k

summary: you're just one of his many conquests, so why does he need you?

warnings: ANGST, friends with benefits, mild yearning/pining, rafe cannot handle his emotions, ward mention, slight jealous!reader, not proofread

a note: idk if i ate. i'm sorry that it's a little short. :( also, my stalker!rafe fic needs SERIOUS work, so i decided to upload this instead. i am very unhappy with it.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Sometimes you think you aren’t meant to be loved.

It’s almost comical, the way you just sit there and take it. The way you let him walk all over you, taking bites out of you just to toss you aside for later. He cut off slices of you when he needed, never taking the full thing. Always little samples, just to keep you hooked. He would chew you up and spit you out, and you would always come crawling back.

You watch as Rafe dresses himself, eyes landing on his ass as he pulls up his boxers. He always dresses so quickly, not even handing you a towel as he paces around your room, gathering his things. At first, you thought he just didn’t like your apartment. You were a Pogue, after all, even though you were lucky enough to move to a nicer area of The Cut. You spent a lot of time redecorating, trying to make it a little bit nicer. A little bit cleaner. Anything to get him to stay.

Your apartment was small. Cozy. Quaint.

It reeks of you. And that’s why Rafe won’t stay.

Rafe turns around, catching your eye. He can’t help the small smile that stretches across his lips as he pulls his jeans on. “Admiring the view?”

“For as long as I can.” You say.

Your response surprises him, and his eyes widen just slightly. He stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “You’re too sweet for your own good.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his socks on.

“I wish you would stay.” You mumble, aching to reach out and touch him. But you don’t.

“I know you do,” Rafe sighs, tying his shoes on. “But I can’t, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do.” Your voice is soft.

“So why do you keep asking me to stay?” It comes out angrier than he intended. But maybe you needed that.

“I…” You swallow hard. “I don’t know.”

“My answers always no. Why do you keep askin’?” Rafe stands, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the bedside table. “Shit’s starting to piss me off.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, sitting up, holding the duvet to your chest. You feel like you’re always telling him that.

“Quit being sorry. Just stop fucking asking it,” He turns to face you. “Jesus. It’s not that hard.”

You don’t know what to say. You nod, looking down.

Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deny, he loves when you look like that. Sad. Vulnerable. It drives him wild. His gaze lands on your neck, bruised and marked by his teeth. Possession looks good on you, He often thinks.

But that was it. He could only take so much of your submission. He couldn’t take you asking him to stay, too.

“I won’t ask again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, still avoiding his gaze.

His jaw tightens and he stares at you. He wants to take you and claim you. To show you were his, and only his. But he didn’t want to keep you. Why would he? “Good.” Rafe walks around the bed and stands in front of you. He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing it up. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You nod, looking up at him, mascara still smeared on your under eyes.

Rafe studies your face. God, you always looked so beautiful like this. Broken and upset. The sight had him wanting to take and claim you all over again. But the look of submission in your eyes makes him want to push you even more. “You look pretty like this.” He murmurs, pushing your neck to the side and looking at the hickeys on your neck. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” You say, although you don’t like it. You didn’t like this version of you, the pathetic girl who would do anything and everything for one iota of his attention; but it got him into your arms, so that’s really all that matters.

“I wonder why that is? Why you look so pretty when you’re crying?” His fingers lightly trace over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You were addicted to him, craving his attention more than you craved anything else. You’d take whatever he gave you. That was the only thing Rafe loved about you.

“Because my lips get all pouty, and my eyes get all red?” You guess, resisting the urge to lean into his palm.

Rafe almost laughs at your answer. It was cute. “Hmm,” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently brushing them. “Yeah, probably.” His eyes meet yours, staring at your face. You were so easy to break. So easy to control. You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no fight or protest. Just endless submission. It was addicting.

You’re getting restless. “Have any plans today?”

Rafe’s hand falls from your face, and his jaw tightens. You always did this. You always try to make small talk, try to create some type of emotional connection between you, even though you knew deep down that he didn't give a shit about you or about your day. “Yeah. I do.” He picks his jacket up from the bed. “Have to go visit my dad's lawyer. Then I’m meeting some friends.”

“That sounds fun,” You say, although meeting with Ward’s lawyer must have something to do with life insurance. “Uh, being with your friends later, I mean.”

“Yeah.” He mutters, shrugging his jacket on. He grabs his keys from the bedside table and glances at you. It’s hard, watching you try to connect to him. He knows that you want more than this. You want to be his girlfriend. You want the world to know you’re his.

But that couldn’t happen. And you knew that.

“Are you, um…” You shift on the bed, the duvet falling just a little bit. “Are you gonna come back over tonight?”

Rafe glances at you, eyes falling to the duvet. God, he loved how you were always trying to keep him around. He loved watching you try and fail to keep his attention. He lets out a deep breath, running a hand over his buzzed head. “Do you want me to?” He already knows your answer.

“Only if you want to,” You say, trying to not come across as even clingier than you already are. “You know my door’s always open for you.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. You were always so predictable. So needy. So willing. He starts to wonder when he'll get sick of it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He grunts, picking his phone up off of the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet. Might be with Sofia tonight.”

Your soft smile drops, just for a second, and you hope Rafe doesn’t notice.

Sofia.

Sofia?

Who the hell is Sofia?

You knew everyone he hung out with. Every girl. You had tabs on all of them, shamefully. You didn’t know who the hell Sofia was. Had you missed someone? How had she managed to slip through the cracks?

Under the covers, you dig your nails into your thigh. You had to act casual, as normal as you could be. You were always treading thin ice with him, and you couldn’t risk losing him over this. Your smile returns and you give him a nod. “Cool. Just text me.”

Rafe watches as your smile falters for a moment. He knows it. He knows that you’re jealous. There was no way that you weren't. It didn’t take much to make you jealous. He could make one passing comment about a girl, and you’d spend the rest of the day worrying, wondering who she was. That's why he brought up Sofia, and why he always mentions his other girls to you. Something about the idea of you laying in bed, terrified and anxious to lose him, really excited him.

He smirks as you quickly regain composure, knowing that he got to you. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” He says, turning to leave.

“Drive safe.” You say.

He stops as he stands in the doorway. Something about you telling him to drive safe always made him… feel guilty. It was that damn softness you always had and used against him. He glances at you over his shoulder, swallowing whatever sentiment he was feeling. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You hate Sofia.

After a bit of sleuthing, logged into one of your many burner accounts, you finally find her. She’s a Pogue, like you, and for some reason you find that it stings more. She’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, the sweetest girl around, and you fucking hate her.

Rafe had a roster. A rotation, the same few girls on repeat until he got bored, where he would swap a few out for fresh meat. You don’t know how you managed to stay on the roster for this long, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe Rafe thought you had another guy out there, filling your cunt and your bed when he was gone, but you didn’t. You’re too busy being Rafe’s to fall for somebody new.

You used to not care about the other girls. The more and more he mentioned them, though, you got curious. You started looking them up on Instagram, stalking their profile through burners and analysing every post. Every story. None of the girls ever looked like you. None of the girls were like you at all. Why did he like them, and why did he like you?

You wonder if he treats the other girls as poorly, or if in some twisted way, you’re special. You could handle being the only girl that Rafe treated like shit if that meant you stood out to him in some way. You wonder if he fills their necks with hickies, too, if he grips their hips too hard and leaves bruises, if he spanks them until his handprints form welts on your ass cheeks.

You hoped to God you were special.

You tried to distract yourself, running errands and tidying your apartment, but you kept thinking about him. About his stupid baby blue eyes, and his stupid pretty face, and his stupid hands and the way they felt around your neck. You didn’t want to be in love with Rafe fucking Cameron, but you feared you were already in too deep, and soon you would drown, falling below the surface, hand outstretched, hoping just this once that he would pull you up.

You sit on your bed, in the dark and the silence, staring at your phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting for him to text you, to need you.

The hours pass. Midnight. One and two. Three. Before four o'clock rolls around, you still have nothing. You know that you should just give up and go to bed. He probably passed out at his friends’ place, too drunk and too tired to text you, but you keep telling yourself that he's just busy. That he's gonna wake up any moment now and shoot you a text.

You're praying that something happens, that something keeps you up and keeps you waiting for those messages that you know he most likely won't send. You want him to finally fucking want you in the way that you want him. You didn’t like feeling this way, it wasn’t fun to constantly torture yourself, but is it not fun to feel many other ways? If it wasn’t Rafe, it would just be someone else. Another man, someone else’s son, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you just aren’t meant to be loved.

Why don’t you do it for him? Why aren’t you enough to get him to stay?

You tap the screen, and it lights up. No new notifications.

“Shit.” You mumble, your hand retreating to your side.

You sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he isn’t going to text you. Why would he? Why would he do that to you, when he never had before? This is exactly what you expected. This is exactly what he loves. Making you doubt, getting you jealous. It gets him off. It’s a game for him. You were his prey, and he was your predator.

As you lay, staring at your ceiling, you hear three, quick knocks on your door.

At first, you think you’ve imagined them. You sit up, your feet sliding into your slippers as you pad into the living room. You stand there in silence, in the dark, only listening to your own breathing. You’re about to turn around when there’s another knock, this time loud and pounding against your door.

You cross the rest of the room, undoing the locks and opening the door.

Standing on your doorstep, of course, was Rafe, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He seems… tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying out late. He glances at you from behind those tired eyes, his gaze falling over your body. He’s taking note of the oversized t shirt you’re wearing, and how your hair is dishevelled and messier than it was before. He could tell you had been lying down. “Can I come in?”

Something's off, you can tell. He’s acting different, even though it’s just subtly. You watch him as he chews on his lip, an anxious habit he didn’t think you noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Rafe’s expression falters for a split second, before he quickly regains his composure. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that you asked him that. He looks over you. “Nothing,” He responds, his voice harsh and biting. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”

You don’t believe him. He normally carries himself with intense confidence and gravitas, so much so it constantly inks into your lungs and chokes you, but this was different. He felt different. “Right.”

He swallows hard, shifting on his feet. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him. Concerned, like you cared. He glances away from you, sighing. “Can I come in?” He repeats his question, eyes flicking between you and your living room.

You nod, stepping aside and holding the door opening, flicking a light switch. One of your lamps turns on, casting a warm, soft glow over your living room.

Rafe strides into your apartment, immediately heading for your couch. Everything in your place was so damn cozy; the warm light, the soft couch, your scent lingering on every single inch of every single surface. He collapses back onto the couch, arms spread out and legs splayed. He runs a hand over his face, swallowing hard.

You sit next to him, and for a while, you two sit in a comfortable silence. You look over at him, pushing some hair behind your ears. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Rafe closes his eyes, sighing as you speak. He didn’t want to tell you about Ward. Not when you were like this, so gentle and caring. He was exhausted, to say the least. He was dealing with so much, all at once, and he didn't know what to do. Finally, he looks at you. In this lighting, with your hair messy and your eyes concerned, you looked even more like the sweet girl he always wished you were. Sweet and caring and loving. “Today was my dad's funeral.”

Your shoulders droop, and your eyes soften. You had no idea. He had only mentioned visiting his father’s lawyer to you yesterday morning. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.”

Rafe almost groans. He loved you when you were soft, when you were sweet. He loved it more than he cared to admit, but right now he hated it. He hated it when you were this caring. It made him doubt everything. He glances at you, a lump in his throat. He hated when you looked at him that way. Because he knew that no matter what he did, you would always have that warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. You would always forgive him, no matter what he did.

Part of him wishes his dad could’ve met you.

You reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, trying not to overstep. Rafe stares down at your hand, so small in comparison to his shoulder. Something about it makes his chest tighten. It seems intimate, and he feels… safe. Safe with you. Which is a feeling he hasn't felt in God knows how long.

His hand slowly lifts, his rough fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brings your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently, back and forth.

God, the feeling of you touching him, comforting him, was too much. Your touch was too gentle and warm, and he hated that he wanted it. He hated the way his chest ached at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He had so many reasons he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be letting you touch him like this, and yet there was something inside of him, a small voice in the back of his mind, constantly begging him to please let you take care of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.” You say softly.

Rafe glances at you, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. God, he hated this. Your touch on his face, the tenderness in your voice, the look in your eyes. It was driving him absolutely insane. His eyes close, as if he was debating if he actually wanted to ask you this. “Am I poison? Am I poison in the water?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

He opens his eyes again, hand still holding yours to his cheek. He holds your gaze, eyes softening. He hated how vulnerable he was, and yet there was a small piece of him, buried deep inside, that needed it. He could tell you anything right now, and you wouldn't judge him. You would just listen. Care. “Do I… poison everything I touch? Am I the poison that kills everything?”

“No, of course not,” You move closer to him on the couch. “Why would you ask that?”

God, he could smell you, your perfume a subtle, sweet scent that was driving him crazy. He closes his eyes as you move closer, and his jaw tightens. This was insane; he wasn't weak, he wasn't vulnerable, he did not need you. But then again, the hand on yours on his face had yet to move. “Because,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I know that I'm a sick, twisted bastard. I know that I make others sick. I hurt everyone I care about.”

“Rafe, I will admit you aren’t exactly the nicest guy,” You swallow roughly, unsure of what to even say. “But you still have people that care about you. Your friends, your sisters. They know the real Rafe, the guy underneath all the aggression.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath. God, he hated this. He hated being vulnerable. He hated opening up to you, and seeing that look of concern in your eyes. He wants to run, to close you out, leave and forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to treating you like one of his conquests, instead of feeling like he wanted you to hold him. But for some reason, his mouth wasn't listening to his brain. “But what about you?”

“Of course, I care about you,” You say. “I thought that would at least be obvious.”

He had a thousand different replies on the tip of his tongue, but instead his mouth just opened and closed, words dying when they left his lips. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but there was a deeper part of him, a small piece of himself that he kept buried inside, deep in the back of his mind, that kept whispering, telling him to sit. It was the part that kept his hand on your wrist. He swallows hard, looking away. “I wish my dad was still here.”

“I know,” You say softly. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his eyes begin to sting, something that only added to his frustration. Frustration at himself, for being pathetic enough to cry. Frustration at you, for making him weak enough to cry. Frustration at Ward, for leaving him and his sisters behind. He suddenly hated everything. He hated you. He hated himself. He hated Ward for leaving him with feelings, making him weak. “I don't even know why I came here,” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I just... I wish I could've been good enough for him. I tried to be good.”

“You don’t know how Ward truly felt about you, Rafe.” You say, stroking his cheekbone again.

He hated the way you were comforting him, hated the way you were so gentle with him. He was always on the defensive, on the attack, so when someone was soft with him... Well, the way his chest ached was proof that it was something he wasn't used to. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. “But I do. His actions spoke louder than his damn words ever did,” He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's so stupid, you know, I... I used to pray I’d be like him, do everything that he did. And sometimes I still do.”

“That’s not stupid.” You say.

He lets his hand fall from your wrist, shaking his head. He hated talking about this, he hated admitting how much Ward’s death has messed him up. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to open up to anybody. The words leaving his lips, however, were not his own. “I hate that I don’t know if he was proud of me... I hate that I’ll never know if I did right by him.”

You remove your hand when he goes to cover his face. You watch him for a few moments, unsure of what to do, when you notice his shoulders shake.

Is he crying?

Your eyes widen when you hear a sob rip through him, shoulders shaking up and down. “Hey, hey, Rafe, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

He hated crying, absolutely hated it, but there he was, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not even- I…” His voice breaks, chest rattling. He lets out a long, shaky breath, shaking his head as he wipes away the tears from his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at you. He hated feeling so weak. Hated that you were seeing this side of him.

“It’s okay,” You put your arm around him, trying to hug him. “It’s okay--”

Rafe suddenly stands, pushing you back. “No. Don’t… don’t fucking pretend like you care.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, ashamed that he let Ward affect him this much. He was supposed to be strong. Powerful. Not weak.

“I’m not pretending.” You say, standing up.

His jaw tightens, his expression hardening into a sharp glare. God, he was tired of you, of your sweet words, of your gentle smiles. It was messing with his head, playing with his feelings. “Yeah, right.” He mutters, shaking his head. “You don’t care, don’t bullshit me.”

“Of course I care about you, Rafe,” You say, taking a step closer to him. “I… I lov--”

“No!” He suddenly snaps at you. He didn't want to hear that. He couldn't. “Don’t… don’t you dare,” You stare at him, confusion on your pretty little face, and it’s driving him fucking crazy. “Don’t. Don’t tell me. Keep that shit to yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t want to upset him even more. You just nod, taking a step back.

He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. He hated the sight of that look on your face. The confusion, the worry, the disappointment. He didn’t understand. Why did you care? He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. What the hell did you think you’d get out of loving someone like him? That he’d love you back? That he’d change for you?

The silence is deafening. You want to say something, you just don’t know what. You take a shaky breath. “I’m here for you, Rafe. You know that. In any way you need me.”

“Why?” He asks suddenly, eyes meeting yours. “Why are you still here for me? Why do you care about me so goddamn much? Why can’t you just give up on me, like everyone else has?”

“Do I look like everyone else?” You ask.

Oh, but that was the problem. You were different. You were the only person in that damn town who was as sweet as you were patient. Who cared so god-damn much about someone so undeserving of that love. “Don’t you think I know that?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you think it pisses me off that you are the way you are?”

“I just want you to be happy, Rafe, and if I can make you happy, I want to.” You say.

Why did you have to be so goddamn sweet? It was driving him mad, the way you stood there, so willing and eager to do whatever it took to help him. He let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at you. “It was different when you were just some girl I was hooking up with.” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m still that girl,” You insist. “Nothing has to change. We can go back to normal. Forget this ever happened.”

His eyes narrow as you speak. He hated that you said that, hated how willing you were to forget the fact that he cried in front of you, and yet he hated himself for the fact that he almost wanted to agree. “Really?” He asks, his voice sharp. “You’d just… forget this? Go back to letting me use you, like nothing happened?”

“If that’s what you want.” You say.

He hated the idea of that. The idea of going back to using you. Of treating you like trash when he knew that you cared so damn much.

Part of him liked hurting you, like watching you fall apart at his hands. But it was the other side of him that hated how good it felt at first, hated the pit of shame in his chest that grew each time you begged him to stay, or cried while he left, or looked at him like he meant the world to you.

Part of him knew you deserved better.

Rafe sighs, looking away. “Fine. We forget about this.”

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

The fact that you didn't say anything, that you didn't fight back, made his chest ache. God, he hated this. He wanted to yell at you. Wanted to push you down, pin you to the couch, and make you cry out his name. He wanted you to ask him to stay, fight him to prove to him that you cared. He hated how your willingness to forget it all made him want to wrap his arms around you. He couldn't stay. He would do something risky, something that he would regret in the morning. He sniffles, wiping his eyes again. “I'm gonna go.”

You swallow thickly. “If you’re sure. My door is always open.”

“Yeah,” He replies, his voice hoarse. He hated that your gentleness, your sweetness, still managed to get to him. He steps closer to you. He wanted to touch you again. To feel your warm, soft skin against his palm. But he knew better. He knew that if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Thanks for being there.” He mumbles, his voice cracking.

“Of course.” You smile softly.

He hates how your smile makes his chest ache, hates the tug it gives his heart. He hated how he cared about you, hated how he was so weak that he allowed himself to open up to you. And God, he hated how he was thinking about kissing your pretty, pouty lips. “I'll be back tomorrow night. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Rafe nods, licking his lips. He rocks back and forth on his feet before reaching out and cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your forehead. Enough to keep you hooked. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Your entire body is buzzing. “Drive safe.”

You’re still standing in the same spot when he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

And you will wait for the next time he wants you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

blagh

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