#Press Heart to Subscribe

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

i recently read Press Heart to Subscribe by @die-erlkonigin6083 and i hvent left a review yet but quq i rlly liked it so i thought i'd draw a couple dannys from it

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

damian wayne robin hoodie inspo here -> https://www.rashguardstore.com/products/robin-damian-wayne-hooded-sweatshirt-hoodie

cat ear headphones from uh here? i guess? -> https://windowsreport.com/best-cat-ear-headphones/

BGs are from ibispaintx

damian costume ref - https://www.pinterest.com/pin/5911043259289573/

danny kick ref - https://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photography-side-view-kicking-martial-arts-fighter-image25336387

damian block ref - https://www.pinterest.com/pin/412712753324946971/

GETTIM, DANNO

[gremlin-bot]

Sometimes wedding gifts can be fanart for a person's fic

Congrats @die-erlkonigin6083!! I hope you had fun at ya wedding!!!

[astralnymphh]

requesting fluffy period sex with Jackson Ellie!!

i’ve been thinking about this for ages lol but just imagine Ellie hearing that orgasms can help period cramps, maybe she randomly reads it in an old trashy magazine or she overhears two other girls talking about it while in town. anyway, she wants to help her gf of course, wants to make you feel better. you’re apprehensive at first and a little shy/embarrassed but Ellie’s like “do u really think i care about a little blood?” because obviously that girl does NOT care abt blood. maybe she even likes it a little…

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ★

note from author: you know i will use any excuse to write jackson!ellie + period sex. especially fluffy sex. with a hint of freak. make sure to hit that like button and subscribe. for more gay sex. drabble length. wrote this in a day (and on my period) so excuse the simpler style. oral + fingering (if you have a problem, keep it to yourself. nobody gaf). not a lot of plot. 18+ interactions please. mdni. wc: 1k. join the discord!

To think, that you were brought a dream.

In the hands of a girl.

You must be blacking in and out. It rushes over your skin: the exhilaration, the sensation, the indent of fingers squeezing your bra-padded breasts, the sweat sticking to her lilac bedsheets. She traverses you like written text. Wrists, shoulders, hips, thighs, the beginnings to a place you feel the need to hide. When the shape of her head intrudes itself there, her intrepid fingers—they follow, and spread the pages for a translation tender and filling. Something she can't put down; you scoot your hips away, and she pulls you right back in.

She reads you.

You feel sedate lengths of softness tread through the channels under your abdomen, where it cramps—and the pain fleets. You forget all about it, until a finger eases inside, and you yelp with all the breath hitched in your throat. “Wait, Ellie!” You shut the heart of your thighs, enclosing her wrist. The ever-so soft junction.

She cocks her head. “What's the matter, babe?”

“You'll get blood on your fingers.”

She read about it in a grayed-out, faded Cosmo; it roped in the young generations, for generations, concerning them with relationships and the sex life of women—menstruation. It fucking sucks, but it sure doesn't have to; she can soothe you right here on the bed you're burrowed up in.

The Jackson local library has an answer for everything.

Ellie promised that after a serenade on her guitar, a hundred kisses, and a whisper of strawberry wine, she would help you out. Tongue and hands.

The practiced grooves on her face snap when she laughs, and she slides up your crotch to have a more face-to-face, respectable consolation. Don't get her wrong: muzzling something incoherent into the plush of your thighs is exciting—and it lets those embarrassing, inhibition-numbing sentiments trickle out until she gets as red as her hair—but she wants you to hear her this time. Cold fingertips melt into your waist.

Your skin is on fire.

“Do you really think I care about a little blood?” She questions, with a voice cornered and hoarse and teasing, tracing mindless circles into your belly. Your reason isn't reason enough to Ellie, it seems.

You glance around for something to convice her. “Well—I don't want to get blood on..”

Ellie disregards you with a head shake and reburies her shoulders under the open perspective of you. Arms entangle you again. “Mh-mm, don't worry about that.” And she, being clever with her peach lips, kisses you here, there, in those self-same distracting places that make you trance out and miss a couple beats, then tense up when she invites her tongue, slips it down and..

Die. For a breath.

Strands of her hair crumple under your grip. Catch under your fingernails.

“Fuck, right there.. right there, Ellie.”

It felt more alight than usual; thick, hot, catalytic presses with her tongue pushing your folds and pinching that bud of nerves—you almost tug her down harder. She can tell you wanted to. It elicits an affirming, quickened pace of her tongue and squeeze of your thighs. Her eyes are fluttered shut, and she looks like a quiet, satisfied heaven.

Her thumb enters below her mouth.

She pulls back—like a vampiric portrait—and cleans her lips, and you bear down for it to return. The thumb inside stills you with a slow pumping.

“See, babe?”

Ellie slides out that thumb. Sucks it, lips pulling over the tip, for you. Humming at your taste like she's about to come herself.

“I don't care. I fuckin' love it.”

Not a second ticks, where you get to process the overwhelming tingle up your nape—or the numbing sound of your heart pounding, and Ellie is already stuffing her face right where it was. She takes you without question. Spreading your thighs apart, she lines up her wet tongue with your wetter entrance and laps your clit, making the swollen bud catch, drag and flick into place: an addicting loop. It feels so perfect against her heart-shaped mouth. Soon, you forget that cramps were the thing that initiated this and delight pours from your throat.

You catch her groping herself to the sound.

She managed a clean job. Blood stains the swell of her chin, to the tip of her nose in lithe blotches, but you knew that would happen. Of course, with her pressing her entire mouth against your hole to wag her face in your mess—you had laughed through a moan when she did—who could guess differently?

It's Ellie: so, of course.

She was smiling when your cries of release came crashing. You shuddered, rode it out on her mouth, and the corner of her lips just curled into your heat.

Fucking idiot.

When you glance down, the little ligatures of humiliation poke at you again; you begin to close your legs. But the indents on your hips from her hold grow deeper. It inches you back open.

She steals the opportuinity to slot herself in that space.

Ellie swipes hair from your face with the backs of her fingers, lingering. “You did so fuckin' good, babe. That's all you needed, huh? I know, I know. You can thank me later,” she boasts. But all you can focus on is her jean-covered thigh against you.

Quiet as the room, you gasp, but it still prompts her to look in the same spot and nudge off you.

She scoffs. “Psh—it'll come right out. Nothin' to sweat over.”

She is too nonchalant for your heart.

You shift in your pool of sudation, rolling out little grunts. Her touch coheres your movements. “Where did you even learn this from?”

“Uh,” she sounds, gaping open mouth. Ellie would nick herself in the knee if you figured how devoted to you she is in passing time. It takes up more than that, if were being honest. She feels better when you perceive her as your genius and generous girlfriend—so she'll keep it that way. “Just, kinda.. thought that I should do it. Yeah.”

You would refute if you were half as awake as you were before Ellie sapped your whole stamina bank out. Thanks, babe.

“Totally.”

“Mhm, I'm the best.” Sarcasm manages to seep through regardless, even when she tries. You laugh at it.

Ellie blacked out within the hour—before you could—sound asleep in the repository your sprawling lap provides, halfway down the bed in an entanglement. You followed in syrup-like tandem—but not without your fingers in her scalp, and a whisper of words. Sleep fought you for this moment.

“You're the best, idiot.”

[hees-mine]

Camboy - L. Heeseung pt.2

Pairing: heeseung X reader!

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing, sex toys, lube.

Genre: 18+, camboy.

WC: 2k+ read full story below⬇️ yall asked and I delivered part two of “camboy” after a year 💀

You are bored scrolling on your phone when a notification drops down on your screen from your favorite streamer, and you tap it immediately.

It felt like Deja vu. He was literally live yesterday, but you weren’t complaining. You could watch him every day, every waking moment of your life, and never get tired.

The app opens, but instead of a live video being displayed like you anticipated, it directs you to private messages, and your face morphs into one of confusion.

Evan Lee: Couldn’t help myself ;)

The text has you re-reading it over and over again. Could it really be that Evan, your favorite streaming/camboy, was messaging you?

You must be dreaming. While your hands shake and your heart pounds, a little text bubble appears on the bottom left of your screen, making your heart beat even faster, if that’s possible.

A video then suddenly appears, with the little play button showing up as the white circle around it loads. Once it's finished, you immediately tap the video, and the sight shocks you, to say the least. You gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand, as quiet moans flow through your phone's speakers.

“Fuck” you hear Evan’s groans while he pumps his cock with the fleshlight you had bought him. He speeds up his pace grunting softly before pulling out of the toy just in time to catch his cum shot. “Shit, fuck yeah” his dick twitches on his stomach, his cum spurting onto his abdomen. “Mmm,” breathing heavily, he swallows till the last of his cum drops from his tip and pools on his tan skin. “Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he laughs breathlessly, dipping his index finger in his cum and then gripping his length and stroking it a few times, spreading it around and coating his dick in the aftermath of his orgasm. Once his dick softens fully, he ends the video.

Blinking blankly at the screen, you finally uncover your mouth, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a truck.

Did he really just send that to you? Before you could even get your hopes up or feel special about receiving a video from him, you assumed he just sent that to all his paid subscribers.

But at least he used the gift you gave him, and you definitely enjoyed it as much as he did.

After pressing send on the video, he cleaned himself up a bit, leaving his phone open in case you replied.

He wore his bottoms, discarding the dirty wipes into his trash bin. “Hmm,” chewing on his lip, he stared at the screen, and there was still no reply. Maybe you were just busy and didn’t see it yet. He turned off his phone, tossing it to the side so he could go shower.

After his shower, he recorded some paid snippets and updated his followers on when his next live will be and what they can look forward to. He checked his phone after about three hours, scrolling through a few notifications. None of them were important, just a few app notifications. He opened the app, streamed, and checked his notifications out of hundreds. None of them were you.

Had you even seen it yet were you at work did you see it and not think anything of it? But you joined his lives and bought him what he assumed was a pretty expensive gift so you must have liked him enough to have your notifications turned on right?

Turning off his phone, he sets it down on his desk. He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous. He literally streamed himself jerking off to hundreds of people, so why was he so anxious about sending a personalized video to you?

After the fourth hour passed, his nerves started to get the best of him, and he messages you again.

Evan Lee: Did you enjoy it, baby?

He sends it before he can overthink that, too.

A reply comes from you quickly this time, which he’s so thankful for.

You: Very much, Evan. I’m sure everyone else did, too ;)

Everyone else? What did you mean by that? Did you show that video to someone else? What?

Evan Lee: What do you mean by everyone?

He decides to ask to clear up the confusion, hoping you didn’t send that video that was meant for you and only for you to someone else.

You: Your subscribers

You responded confused now as well.

Evan Lee: What do you mean? I didn’t send that to everyone, just you as a thank you for, you know, the gift since I liked it so much

His face heats up. He can’t believe he’s actually texting you like this right now. He never thought he’d be interested in one of his followers, but you just seemed to capture his attention even if he was just going by text only.

Yeah, you must be dreaming. Well, at least it was a good dream.

You: “I’m flattered.”

He shifts his attention from his computer now that he’s got you online.

Evan Lee: Good baby, so did you do anything to that video?”

You blushed reading his text.

You: I haven’t 🤭

Evan Lee: Aww baby, you’re making me sad :(

You: Sorry

You reply, not sure what to say.

Evan Lee: I didn’t know you could resist my charm 😏

Truthfully speaking, you couldn’t.

Evan Lee: Since I made myself feel good, why don’t you do the same? After all, I made that video just for you.

Biting on his bottom lip, he sends a risky texts, awaiting your answer.

You: Are you sure?

Evan Lee: Positive baby, go ahead and touch yourself to my video

You: Now?😳

Evan Lee: Of course, sweetheart, why wait?

You: I don’t know

You nervously replied, still at a loss for words. You didn’t even know how this was happening.

Evan Lee: I’ll be here when you come back 😉

You left it at that, your heart racing in your chest as you scroll up and see the video. Your thumb hovers over it as you contemplate playing it without thinking about it too much. You press the play button, his moans filling your ears once again, and you get immersed in the video in seconds. The way he impatiently bucked his hips up into the toy had you wondering what it’d feel like if he fucked into you like that, and you could already feel your body getting warm and your pussy tingling with excitement.

With his words in mind, you slowly slip your hand down to your crotch beneath your blankets, circling your clit to the thought of him.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone together with him at the same time he did in the video.

The video was only about a minute long, but that’s apparently all it took for you to cream around your fingers, your moans mixing with his as your thumb caressed your clit and your fingers pumped inside your dripping hole. “Yes, Evan,” moaning, you throw your head back, sighing in pleasure, and writhing on your bed in the aftermath.

You: Thank you, Evan

You sent attaching a short clip of you pushing your fingers in and out of your wet pulsing hole.

He opened the notification, and now it was his turn to gasp and cover his mouth. “Fuck” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head.

Evan Lee: so wet, baby. Looks like you really enjoyed yourself

You: I did Evan. came so fast, imaging my fingers were your cock instead

You reply boldly.

Evan Lee: you’d like that, huh? Feeling my cock deep inside that little wet pussy

You: Yes, Evan, so bad

Evan Lee: You have no idea, baby. I’d take care of you so well, but for now, that’s all you get 😉

You: evan :(

Evan Lee: Join my stream tonight, and I’ll put on a show for you. I’ll cum just for you. It can be our little secret.

Before you could reply, the live notification popped up a red circle appearing around his profile picture, indicating he is now live.

You tapped it immediately, joining the stream, a faint smile on your lips as his voice greeted all his viewers.

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for joining my stream,” he smiles, waving to the camera as more viewers start to come in. “I had a lot of fun last stream, and apparently, so did you all,” he teasingly smirks, reading through some comments. “Take off my shirt?” He asks with a chuckle. “But I’ve only been live for like two seconds.” A ding goes off on his computer, showing a payment of fifty dollars, along with a message saying, please take it off. “Only cause you said please,” he laughs softly, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. “Happy?” He said, running his fingers through his hair and intentionally flexing his bicep while doing so, giving the camera an innocent look like he was unaware of the subtle tease. “It’s a bit cold now. I wish I had someone to warm me up.” he looks into the camera lens, running his hand down his chest and stopping at the waistband of his pants. “Maybe we could do something together to keep us both warm.”

He slips his hand inside his pants, rubbing over his soft cock giving the viewers what they want. “Would you all like that?” He bites on his lip, leaning back on his chair and spreading his legs, leaving little to the imagination of what he’s doing under his pants. “You’ve been waiting all day for this?” He asks, reading through more comments. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Another donation comes in, along with another message. “Take everything off. Wow, you’re all more impatient than last time,” he laughs, standing up and pulling his trousers down to his ankles before sitting back in his chair, lazily stroking his cock till it grows hard, truth be told, he was a little impatient, too. He couldn’t wait to cum for you. “No one even asked about my day just wanted to jump straight into huh?” He teased and couldn’t help but laugh at the comments now flooding in, asking him about his day. “You guys are so cute, but I’m only teasing, enough about my day. I only wanna focus on you.” he looks at the camera, hand working up and down his hard length. “Bet you’re tired and need to relax. Don’t worry. We can play together and relieve all your stress.” he bucks his hips into his palm at a slow rhythm, looking over comments. “Touch yourself with me,” he whispers.

“You look so perfect.” his eyes don’t fail to catch the comment you left, and immediately, he starts jerking off faster, his toes digging into the carpet beneath his feet. “Fuck, you think I’m perfect?” he bites his bottom lip. “You’re even more perfect.” he throws his head back, hissing as his pace increases, the sound of his fist coming down on his balls with each stroke echoing in his quiet room.

He swallows harshly, veins popping on his forearms as he squeezes his eyes shut. Seconds away from cumming, his hand slows down right when he’s on the brink. His body sinks back into his chair as he lets go of his cock, letting it slap across his abdomen. “Shit” he rests his head on his chair, eyes lidded with arousal.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered to yourself, anticipating the visual of him cumming.

“You were close? So early?” Chuckling at the comments, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “What would the fun be in cumming so soon?” He replied. “We still have the night to ourselves” he takes hold of his cock again, still sensitive from denying his previous orgasm. “Don’t you want to play with me longer?” He says, swiping the precum off his tip and rubbing it on his cock.

The sounds of more donations come in while he’s busy grabbing the bottle of lube you bought for him. He had it on his desk and ready to go.

Popping the cap open, he holds it over his tip, dropping an exaggerated amount of it on, squeezing more and more out till it pools around his full balls. “Feels so good” he starts stroking his sticky cock. The sounds every time he rubs his cock are so loud and lewd.

You squeeze your legs together, wetness flowing from your hole as you watch him touch himself.

“Ahh fuck” The slick glide the lube provides for him feels so good, so wet and sticky he just knows you’d feel even better and wetter. He closed his eyes, the sounds of comments and donations drowning out as he imagined the video you sent him. You were so wet and creamy just for him. “Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good” he fists his cock continuously, your image playing behind his eyelids. “You like that, huh? Taking my big dick deep in that little dripping pussy?” More desperate comments follow, but he’s too busy to read. The only thing he’s concerned with is cumming for you. “You feel so good, so tight and fucking wet,” he groans, stroking his lube-coated shaft. “Fuck, I'm close cum with me, sweetheart. I want to cum together, shit,” he breathes out, his hand moving up and down at a rapid pace, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat and his brows furrowed in pleasure. “That’s it, baby, cream on my dick while I cum in your pretty little pussy fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming” his body shudders as long white thick ropes of pearly cum flow from his tip, coating his hand and leaking down to his full balls. “Oh s-shit baby,” he relaxes back in his chair, succumbing to the pleasure the image of you seared in his brain as cums endlessly.

Breathing heavily, he finally comes to, a breathless chuckle, leaving his lips as he strokes himself through his high. “I came so much,” he says, playing with it, scooping it up and covering his shaft while pumping out the last little dribbles of cum. “I’m still so fucking hard.”

He huffs out a breath, using his clean hand to rub his fingers through his damp hair. “Well….. that was amazing. I hope you all feel as good as I do.”

A multitude of comments come in thanking him, telling him how much they enjoyed the live and to cum again. “As much as I’d like to, I’m a mess” he looks down between his legs there’s a mess of cum and lube.

“Don’t go”

“Please stay.”

The comments of people wanting him to stay on stream were endless, but he had something a little different in mind.

“Next time, I will, I promise. Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I really need to clean up,” he laughs. “Thank you all for coming and for all the donations. I’ll make it up to you all next time. I love you all, goodnight.”

With zero shame he ends the live and instantly goes to your guy's shared chats together, messaging you right away. “Did you like it sweetheart?”

Groaning at his abrupt ending you exit out of the app only to tap the notification from him once it appears.

You: Of course, I just wish I could watch you longer.

He holds his cock that’s still hard and pulsing rubbing it up and down. Just your reply was getting him going again.

Evan Lee: I’m sorry, baby, but I’m still so hard, and I just needed to see you. I was imagining your pretty little pussy the whole time, but that’s not enough. I need more of you. I feel like I’m going to explode.

He types out with shaky hands. He doesn’t know why you’re getting him to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. His body is hot to the touch, he’s dripping sweat, and his balls are full of cum, ready to be released for you and only you.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t even let you reply before he’s requesting a video call with you.

You don’t even get a chance to reply or comprehend what’s happening; all you know is that Evan is calling you, and you were not going to decline his request.

“Hi baby, thank god you answered,” he breathes heavily, pointing the camera straight between his legs. “I’m so hard for you,” he whines, bucking his hips up and fucking the air. “I want you so bad,” he whispers, too horny and out of it to make sense of what’s happening.

“Evan,” you whispered, and the sound went straight to his twitching dick.

“Fuck baby, what’s your name? I wanna moan it when I cum for you” he grabs his cock, jerking it steady, and your breath hitched.

“Y-y-n,” you stutter out at the sight of him. You wish you could feel his dick in every last one of your holes. You needed him just as bad; he had no idea the effects he had on you.

“Y/n fuck, This feels so good,” he moans, stroking his cock. “Do you like it, sweetheart, like when I rub it for you?” He pumps his cock, thrusting his hips wildly.

“Yes, Evan, wish I could rub it for you,” you moan, lowering your hand back into your shorts.

“Oh god,” he sighs. “Me too, y/n.” Whimpering, he squeezed his base tightly and jerked it up and down. “I wanna fuck your pretty pussy so bad, fuck!”

“Oh Evan, I want that to more than anything, wish I could feel your cock stretching out my little pussy” you whine.

“Shit, I’d open you up so good fuck you with this big dick. You’d like it rough, yeah? Want my cock fuckin into you nice and deep and so fucking rough.”

“Yes,” you mewled, rubbing through your wet folds and sticking your fingers deep in your pussy, clenching around your digits as your thumb tickled your clit.

His deep, heavy breaths filled your ears, and he could hear your little whines of pleasure. “Yeah, touch that little cunt for me. Finger that wet fucking hole. Imagine that was me screwing that little pussy, baby” he strains, his heart pumping wildly in his chest, and this was better than any stream session.

“Oh yes, Evan, it feels so good,” you reply while keeping your right hand busy between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know,” he moans. “Wish I could see you. Please let me see you, fuck” he pleads, so horny and out of it he really wants to blame his feral ness on the fact he hasn’t had any in a while, but he knows deep down there’s something about you that’s driving him to his breaking point he feels like he’s going to go crazy.

In your arousal-hazed brain, you turn on your camera showing him your fingers shoved deep in your pussy covered in your wetness.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking pretty. Your pussy is perfect. I wanna suck your fingers clean, eat you out and fuck you so good, so deep, till you're moaning my name.”

“I want that too, so bad, my fingers aren’t enough, need your dick stuffing me full, need all my holes filled by you” You pressed your head into your pillows, leaning back, the warmth of your upcoming orgasm covering you like a blanket.

“Y-yn, I can't help it. I’m gonna cum” his head feels dizzy as he fondles himself. His mind is blank, nothing but the idea of you and cumming for you.

“Me too. I need to feel your cum inside me want you to fuck me full,” you breathe out, lost in pleasure as much as him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you,” he moans softly, his load as big as last time, if not bigger, his cum sprayed all over his abdomen and fist. “Cream on my dick, sweetheart, let go,” his voice sends you spiraling down a never-ending hole of pleasure, and you cum seconds after him screaming his name in pure ecstasy.

“Evan,” you whine his name, both of you sinking back into the comfort of your own beds.

“Y/n,” the only thing either of you can see is the faint pulsating of each other's genitals, the aftermath of everything finally settling in.

Heavy breaths fill up your guy's speakers, and neither of you says a word for a solid minute.

“I- um, I’m sorry for calling so late. I just- you know?” He laughs shyly, turning off his camera.

“N-no, it’s okay. I, too, was, you know?” Following suit, you turn off your camera after him.

Chuckling, he nods even though you can’t see him, and he can’t see you.

“So…. I guess I’ll let you go now,” he hums.

“Y-yeah, I guess so. Umm, goodnight, Evan,” you say, a little reluctant.

“Wait, maybe if you’re not busy, we can call again, not like this but just normally,” he says awkwardly and stands up, grabbing the waist of his pants, pulling them up, and tucking his soft cock away.

“O-oh, okay, that’s fine by me.” You smile from ear to ear at the thought of having a call with him tomorrow. You literally couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like a dream come true, and much like you, he can’t help but smile on the other line.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll call you again tomorrow, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you say teasingly.

“Okay, goodnight, y/n. Thanks for tonight; I really enjoyed it,” he hums softly.

“I should be thanking you.” You both share a small laugh. You can hear the grogginess in his tone, and you’re sure he can hear it in yours as well. “Goodnight, Evan.”

“Bye, y/n,” he chirps, hanging up his phone, and he’s never been happier to be a camboy.

Link to my Patreon!

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[nadvs]

cam girl (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Your heart feels like it’s pounding against your ribs. You look up at Rafe, having to crane your neck to meet his eye-line. His gaze is commanding and excitement and shock tingle through your body.

“You…” you begin, the room thick with tension.

“Use your words,” Rafe taunts. “I know you know how to.”

“How’d you find me?” you finally say quietly, curious how he of all people found you on the cam website.

“Pure luck,” he chuckles, dimples caving into his cheeks.

A pang of jealousy hits your chest when you imagine him scrolling through the website, looking at other cam girls. Maybe you’re just as possessive as he is.

His hand comes up to your cheek, cradling languidly, like he’s touched you a hundred times before. While he hasn’t physically held you, though, he’s seen every single part of you on a screen.

Rafe leans down, capturing your lips in his, and you freeze for a moment before giving in, kissing him back, tasting his hot mouth. His ring presses against your skin as he gently swirls his tongue with yours.

Your kisses grow hungrier and his grip on you gets tighter. He steps closer, his other hand pulling you in by the small of your back.

As you drag your hands up Rafe’s arms, cupping his hard biceps, you feel his arousal harden against you and your breath hitches, well aware that you will do anything and everything this man tells you to.

You pull back, unable to believe you’re really standing here, that you’re supposed to be working but you’re kissing Rafe in his bedroom, feeling his hard cock against you.

“You knew it was me the whole time?” you ask.

Rafe says your name with a scoff.

“I know your voice and I know that mouth,” he drawls, his smirk sexy. “And I was right that you’ve been hiding a really hot fucking body under there.”

His hand falls from your cheek and against your hip, skimming over your dress and landing on your ass. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach as his large hand squeezes your flesh.

He drops his left hand to your other buttock and you feel the dress inching up your legs as he bunches the fabric in his hands over the curve of your butt.

“You gonna let me see it up close?” he mumbles, the strong, sharp smell of his body wash turning you on even more. “I know you’re not shy.”

You nod and he’s already pulling the fabric over your hips, over your waist, over your head. He tosses your uniform onto the floor and you think about how that’s probably the cheapest dress he’s ever touched, sure all his girls before were wealthy like him.

The cool air pricks your skin as you stand in front of him in only your bra and underwear. Rafe’s blue eyes trail down your body like you’re a meal he’s been craving. He’s seen it all before, but he looks amazed.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, his warm hands sliding over your hips, his skin still hot from his shower. The sensation makes you shudder.

“You knew it was me from that first picture I sent, didn’t you?” he asks, then runs his tongue between his lips.

Your breath is shallow as you realize Rafe made it obvious who he was on purpose, intentionally including his ring and the sheets on his bed in the photo, wanting you to know he was chatting with you, praising you, cumming with you.

You open your mouth, nearly speechless from awe and anticipation of what’s about to happen. To think all the things you said to him behind a screen…

“Yeah, I did,” you breathe.

“What do you charge for a private session where I actually get to touch you, hmm?” Rafe mumbles. His thumbs press down on your hips, shoving you down hard enough to seat you on the edge of his bed.

The way he says it, that he gets to touch you, makes you feel like the most desired girl in the world. You’re not just a cam girl trying to make ends meet. You’re something special.

Rafe is just as confident and forward now as he is in the chatroom. You decide you should do the same, even though you’re trembling with nerves.

“I’ll do it for free,” you reply, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, stepping closer to you.

You notice the bulge of his hard-on beneath the towel wrapped around his hips and you’re eager to see what you saw on your screen in real life.

You bite your lip as you hook a finger under the cotton, pulling it down. The towel drops to the floor with a soft thud, his cock springing free a few inches away from your face. It’s fucking perfect, your eyes traveling over the veiny length.

“So eager,” he teases. “You said you didn’t think you could fit it in your mouth, remember? You gonna try for me, princess?”

You gaze at his swollen shaft and run your hand up his thigh, closing your fist around the base of his dick. A groan spills out of him immediately.

“There’s the needy girl I like so much,” he praises.

You look up at Rafe again, watching his face contort as you put him up to your mouth. You tap the head of his dick against your lips the same way he told you to do to your dildo during your first session together.

“Such a pretty mouth,” he says. You like hearing his praise out loud much more than reading it on a screen.

You taste his salty precum as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You’re out of your element now that you’re not in front of a camera and controlling everything, but you urge yourself to talk the way you’d talk if you were at home, in your bed, knowing he was watching you.

You pull back, your mouth popping off of him.

“I thought you were going to make me beg for it,” you say, his dick heavy on your lips.

“You already beg for it with those eyes every time I see you,” he says. “Suck it.”

He’s right. Every damn time you’re in this house and he’s berating you while you work, you act annoyed but really, you’re excited by him, by his beautiful face, by his hot body, by his domineering presence.

If you got your way, when he teased you like that, you’d cuss him out and tease him back, then you’d fuck until you couldn’t walk.

You finally close your lips around his girth. You look up to watch his eyes shut at the sensation of your mouth sliding down his length. You reach the base, gagging once his entire cock is in your mouth.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he groans, his voice hoarse. It electrifies you knowing you’re the one making him this hard, feeling your centre swelling with need.

You start to bob back and forth, your tongue flicking as your lips suction around him tightly. You feel his hand at the back of your head, fingers digging into your hair.

Rafe tugs at your roots as you tighten your grip on him and start to move your hand in sync with your mouth. His cock is slick, your spit dribbling out the corner of your lips as you glide up and down, your cheeks hollowing.

“So much better than that toy, isn’t it?” he teases.

“So much better,” you moan, your words muffled from his dick in your mouth. You look ahead at his flat, toned stomach and bring your other hand up to cup his balls, gently rolling his soft flesh in your palm.

“Fuck,” he shudders, his hips bucking. He hits the back of your throat, making you gag. You regain composure, pulling back a little, but then he pushes your head forward so your lips press against his base again.

“What, you can’t take it all?” Rafe taunts.

You look up at him with doe eyes, brows pinching together, mouth full of him as saliva drips down your chin.

“Can’t you, princess?” he asks.

You nod, swirling your tongue around him.

“Good girl,” he says, tugging at your roots again. You pull back, never losing suction, and push him back inside, all of him, sputtering and triggering your gag reflex again.

You rock back and forth, the ache between your legs nearly impossible to bear now as you sit on the edge of his bed. He tugs your hair back hard enough to pop you off of him and you look up at him, his eyes heavy lidded and his pink lips parted.

“Take those panties off,” Rafe orders. You move your hands off him and rush to dip into the band of your underwear, lifting your ass up off the bed for a moment to pull off the fabric.

He puts his large hands on your shoulders to push you down. You sink onto the mattress, legs hanging off the edge, and he pulls your knees apart so roughly that you gasp.

He lowers his large frame, knees on the floor, and you prop yourself up with your elbows from your position on the bed, watching him as his lustful eyes travel over your exposed core.

“I knew how wet this pussy could get, but fuck…” You feel the pad of his finger trace up to your clit and you tremble, impatiently bucking your hips.

“Hurry,” you plead. He locks eyes with you, a pompous smile on his face.

“I warned you I’d tease you until you were soaking.”

“I am,” you urge. “Please…”

He dips his head but you don’t feel his mouth on you where you hope. He’s kissing your inner thigh slowly, agonizingly slowly, and you sigh in a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

His lips are soft and when you feel them part, sucking on the tender skin of your thigh, you exhale quickly, longingly.

“You know I’m not patient,” you groan.

“And you know I go slow. I told you last night that this pussy is mine,” he says against your skin. “I decide what happens to it. And when.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, elbows weak as you watch the top of his head gently moving between your legs, his thick hair darkened from the shower.

“Say my name when you beg,” he instructs.

“Rafe, please,” you shudder, your words tumbling out of you now. Your pussy feels like it’s drenched, every nerve in your body craving him. “Don’t you want to taste it? You said you wanted to taste it.”

You feel him scoff against your thigh, his breath warm, as if it’s funny that you’re trying to coax him into doing what you want.

“Keep begging,” he says, his tone insinuating that no matter what you say, he has the final say on everything.

You drop, the back of your head hitting his bed as he continues to trace kisses up your thighs, his cheek brushing against your wet core as you squirm.

Your fingers grab the half-made sheets beneath you, the expensive threads bunching in your grip.

“Please, Rafe,” you mumble. “Please…”

Starving for stimulation, you start fondling your tits with your eyes squeezed shut.

It’s not enough. You impulsively put your fingers on your swollen clit, but you feel Rafe’s big hand roughly grip your wrist before you can pleasure yourself.

“I can’t believe how fucking bad you are, my God,” he mutters.

“I’m not,” you whine.

“Liar,” he half-chuckles. “I told you I decide what happens, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” you whisper, defeated. “Fine, yes.”

Rafe guides your hand up to your stomach and loosens his grip, dropping your palm.

He continues to suck and nibble on the sensitive skin of your thighs at a painfully slow pace until finally, finally, you get some relief when you feel his fingers pull your lips apart.

“Fuck,” he groans. “That little camera of yours doesn’t show just how nice this pussy is.”

“It doesn’t?” you say, legs twitching, wishing he would just put his mouth on you.

“I’m buying you a better one,” Rafe says. You don’t know what you expected after this, but the fact that he wants you to continue doing your dirty shows for him, he wants to keep paying you to touch yourself, surprises you.

His tongue slowly flattens against your spread middle and you whimper. He starts to lap at your sensitive slit, his hands still holding you open.

You writhe, knowing he’s purposely not giving you the satisfaction of moving up to your clit.

“I’ll be good,” you whisper more to yourself than him. Rafe chuckles against you, his breath pouring over you.

He finally angles up higher, the point of his tongue playing with your clit.

“Fuck,” you sob, voice strained as you gaze up at his ceiling. He puts his lips around the sensitive nub and starts to suck, the sound of your wetness filling his bedroom. He moves back down, dipping his tongue inside of you, groaning and sending a vibration through you.

Rafe starts to move faster and rougher. He had sent a message that he wanted his face wet from you, and damn if he wasn’t fulfilling his wish right now.

Your body is on fire. Not only does Rafe like eating pussy, but he’s really fucking good at it. The way you touch yourself, the toys you use, they pale in comparison.

“Tastes better than I imagined,” he praises.

Without a word, he goes knuckle-deep inside of you. You shudder, feeling his ring against you, as he pumps two fingers in and out. You clench around him, craving more.

Your breaths get faster and more shallow, stomach tightening.

“Are you close?” he taunts.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Suddenly, Rafe pulls out of you, his mouth losing contact. You find the strength to lift your head and look down at him in confusion and frustration.

You watch his face, glistening with your arousal, as he stands up, hand around his cock.

“Why’s your bra still on?” he asks.

You arch your back to unhook your bra, quickly taking it off, eager to feel him inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groans. You watch him through lustful eyes as he gets on his knees over you, his cock curved up and hitting his stomach.

“When you put that dildo between your tits…” he whispers. “God.”

The anticipation of him recreating the lewd act makes your stomach blaze with yearning even more. His hands knead your tits as he hovers over you, his thumbs roughly stroking over your pebbled nipples.

You remind yourself to be patient, even though you’re dying for the orgasm he’s delaying.

“You wanted it to be you so bad,” you tease, knowing your smile is smug without needing to look at the mirror image of yourself that you’re so used to seeing.

“Now it’s gonna be,” he says gruffly. He leans down, placing his wet, heavy cock on your sternum. You quickly squeeze your breasts together, trapping him.

You look up and the view of Rafe sitting over you like this, his jaw tight and his wet hair hanging over his forehead, is like a drug. A tremor swirls at your core as he rocks forward, his thickness rubbing the tight space you’ve made for him.

He starts to pant as he tit-fucks you, reminding you of the breathy video he sent of him stroking himself. The friction, the heat, the moisture of his dick moving on you like this makes you buck your hips up in desire, wishing he would finally just pound into you.

You think back to Rafe’s messages, the way he’d tease you and praise you. You thought your sessions were heaven, but no - this is.

His eyes lock on yours as he grinds and he rests the crook of his hand on your chin, squeezing your cheeks together.

“Such a dirty girl,” he says. “Touching yourself for strangers on the internet. You won’t show anyone else your body, do you understand?”

“Yes, Rafe. Yes.”

“Just me.”

“Yes.”

He keeps thrusting and you feel him hardening even more.

“Don’t,” you whisper, “don’t cum like this. Please get inside of me.”

He breathes a chuckle, continuing to thrust.

“I want to finish on that pretty face today,” he tells you. “You want that?”

“I want it inside of me,” you whine.

“Either on your face or nowhere near you, princess,” he tells you.

“Why?” you gripe.

“Which one?” he says through gritted teeth.

“My face,” you answer quickly. It’s not your first choice, but feeling his hot cum on your face will almost be just as good as feeling it inside you.

He pulls out from between your tits and angles his hips closer to your face, dropping his hands to hold himself up on the bed.

“Finish me off,” he instructs. You grip his cock and start rubbing up and down, his breath getting even faster as his cock lightly bounces on your chin.

Rafe stops breathing for a second, straining as you pump his orgasm out of him. His hot semen splashes onto your face and you open wide, letting it hit your tongue and your cheeks.

He fucks your hand to help you work the last drop out, then slides down to kiss you. The taste of his tongue mixed with his cum sends you into even more of a frenzy.

Rafe hovers over you, his hot chest pressed against yours, the soft hairs peppering his pecs lightly tickling you.

He pulls back and you realize you’re more than okay with him finishing you off with his hand if he won’t fuck you how you want him to today.

“So pretty,” he whispers, pushing your hair back as his eyes take you in. You’re heaving, looking at him through heavy lids.

“Can I please cum now?” you whisper.

Rafe’s dimples dip into his cheeks, his smile painfully sexy.

“Tonight.”

“What?” you snap.

“Look how mad you are,” Rafe mocks, eyes dropping to your lips.” You’re not cumming until you’re in front of your camera for me.”

“Rafe,” you groan. “Please.”

“Who do you belong to?” he asks, bringing his hand down to pat your pussy, tormenting you. You throw your head back in frustration and hear him laugh again.

The mattress shifts when Rafe sits up. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he leans towards his nightstand. You hear a drawer open and close.

He lays down next to you, blissed out from his orgasm, a stark contrast to how worked up you are. He’s holding a small pink box.

“You’ll open this for me tonight,” he tells you. “On camera. Don’t do it before then.”

You stare up at the ceiling, swollen and angry that he’s denying you your orgasm. Rafe says your name in a warning tone.

“Take it,” he orders. This man is kinkier than you could have imagined, clearly loving orgasm denial, sexual dominance, praising, teasing, being a sugar daddy.

You roll your eyes and take his gift, shaking your head in annoyance.

“God, that attitude,” Rafe taunts.

Despite everything, despite his taunting, despite the state he’s leaving you in, you do feel lucky to have caught Rafe’s interest, to be his personal toy.

“This is so fucking unfair,” you mutter. Rafe smiles in amusement.

“You’re cute when you’re pissed off,” he says.

{ read part four here }

[earlysunshines]

fall is for falling (for you)

newjeans (unnie line) x fem!reader ; fluff!!!!!

synopsis: separate autumn themed oneshots with newjeans unnie line bc i saw a pile of leaves the other day ; 2k special!!

warnings: puuuurre fluff ; making out kinda ; nothing else that i can think of ; anything i didn't mention ; sorry to the readers that don’t have fall / experience a diff season atm it’s basically autumn for me :-P or maybe i’m getting ahead of myself it’s still like 20+ degrees

a/n: THANKYOU FOR 2K WHATTTTTT THE HELL!!! idk how to structure this and it's different from the usual looong fics LOL idk smth different for this crazy milestone THANK YOU!!! i can't believe this is real... i can’t express my gratitude enough… two gazilliontrillionbillion subscribers... in just over a year... i can't believe this... THANK YOU! enjoy :-D

ALSO new user whatsUP! :-p

kim minji - pumpkin carving

minji hears the door creak open but doesn't bother to look up; she already knows it's you. she braces herself, expecting you to burst in dramatically like always: groaning loudly, tossing your bag onto the rug, and collapsing onto the couch next to her with a tired sigh. but instead of the usual commotion, she notices the absence of a familiar thump on the couch, no tired exhale signaling your arrival. 

she peeks up, only to find you grinning with a large pumpkin cradled in your arms, your eyes bright with excitement. 

“what’s this?” minji asks, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls off her headphones, glancing away from her laptop.

“it’s a sweet potato, what do you think?” you tease, your tone playful as you reach over and close her laptop without hesitation, sliding it to the side. “c’mon, it’s friday. pleeease help me carve it?”

she pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as she meets your gaze. you tug gently on her wrist, the warmth of your hand lingering on her skin, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. her resolve wavers, and she sighs, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. 

“fine.”

minji doesn't regret agreeing, not when your face lights up like that. the way you smile makes her chest feel warm, a flutter she wishes she could escape.

you both set up at the kitchen counter, and she watches as you rummage around, grabbing all three knives you both own. 

(there used to be just one—a medium-sized knife—but you insisted on buying more. what if there were small things to cut? or bigger things? the two of you have argued over countless trivial things you own, but somehow, she always ends up letting you have your way. maybe it’s because she secretly adores you, not as subtly as she thinks.)

you put on a playlist that jumps all over the place; first, it’s sza, and you hum along, lost in the melody. then a city pop track comes on, the abrupt change making minji raise her brows. your taste in music is unpredictable, like a rollercoaster, every song a surprise. but minji never complains. she loves how you sway to the music, singing softly as you sketch a face on the pumpkin with intense concentration. 

and for a moment, she forgets about the essay she has to write, the deadline, the weekend. all she sees is you, the soft light catching the curve of your smile, and it's enough.

–

an hour passes, but it feels like only seconds.

you and minji have been carving away, scooping out the pumpkin’s insides as she grins at the way you squirm with every handful. when she slips out a soft “cute,” your face heats up instantly, but neither of you says anything more. you assume she’s talking about the face you’ve drawn on the pumpkin, but all of you hopes it’s you she’s referring to.

you sneak glances at her from time to time, drawn to the way her hair falls loose from its tie, her glasses slipping down her nose, and her tongue peeking out in concentration. you reach over to push her glasses back up, and her hand slips—almost cutting herself. you laugh, but your heart is racing inside your chest.

the kitchen table is a mess. pumpkin guts and seeds are scattered everywhere, a few strands of orange pulp hanging off the edge. you’re both standing side by side, spoons in hand, breathless from laughter.

“this is the worst pumpkin carving attempt i’ve ever seen,” minji declares, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, unknowingly smearing pumpkin across her skin.

“you mean the best,” you counter with a grin, scooping out another stringy handful. “it’s a masterpiece in the making.”

she rolls her eyes, but you catch the smile she tries to hide. “if by ‘masterpiece,’ you mean ‘disaster,’ then yeah, sure.”

you nudge her shoulder, still laughing. “hey, it’s not that bad! we just need to… appreciate its unique aspects.”

minji laughs like a dork, you love it—bright and loud—making your chest warm. “fine, but if this pumpkin ends up looking like a troll, i’m blaming you.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you joke. “besides, it’s already got your eyebrows.”

she gasps in mock offense. “excuse me? my eyebrows are perfect, thank you very much.”

you snicker and turn back to the pumpkin, but your eyes keep drifting to her. she’s leaning in close, focus intent, tongue poking out slightly as she carves a crooked smile.

it’s hard to concentrate with her so close. something about this feels different—more intimate, more charged.

(and it doesn’t help that you’ve found her attractive ever since you barged into the apartment while she was moving boxes, almost knocking over her stuff.

it also doesn’t help that your crush on her has only grown. english nerds were always a little dorky and cute to you.

or maybe it’s just minji. minji, who you used to bicker with about her loud music or her sudden screams in the middle of the night over some game.

it definitely doesn’t help that you like minji a lot.)

she catches you looking at her, and for a moment, the room goes still. her eyes soften, and your cheeks heat up again. she quirks an eyebrow. “what are you staring at?”

you shrug with a grin. “nothing, sorry. you just look stupid, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks deepens, and your heart skips a beat.

minji finishes the smile on the pumpkin and steps back, hands on her hips, looking at it with a satisfied grin. “done! would you look at that…”

the pumpkin is… well, it has a crooked smile, one eye bigger than the other, and a nose that could pass for a potato. it’s perfect.

“it’s amazing,” you say, and you mean it. not because of the pumpkin, but because of how proud she looks, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughing.

she turns to you, and for a moment, you’re just smiling at each other. then, almost without thinking, you reach up and brush a stray pumpkin seed from her hair.

she blinks, startled, her breath catching. “uh… thanks,” she mumbles, her cheeks darkening to a deeper pink.

“of course,” you say softly, your hand lingering in her hair a moment too long.

the air thickens, something unsaid hanging between you. you’re about to speak, but then minji’s hand is on your jawline, and her lips are on yours.

it’s short, barely a few seconds, but in the last half-second, you start to process it and try to kiss back. but before you can properly reciprocate, minji pulls away, her hand flying back like you’re something hot to the touch.

“i’m so sorry,” she stammers, looking mortified. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. it’s just you looked really good, and i couldn’t help myself, and i’m so sorry, i should’ve—”

you lean in again, cutting her off, capturing the rest of her mumbled apology with your lips. she relaxes into the kiss, her head angling slightly to make it more comfortable, her hand resting on your waist. she pushes you gently against the counter, her body close to yours.

when the need for air becomes too strong, you both pull away, breathless. you look at her—her eyes still half-lidded, cheeks flushed deep red, and you can’t help but giggle, hiding your face in your shoulder to mask how flustered you are.

you just kissed your roommate, and she kissed you back, pulled you closer by the waist, tasted like orange flavored lip balm, smelled like lavender and something floral.

“holy shit,” you mumble, half-laughing. “we just kissed.”

“y-yeah.” minji’s voice is small, almost disbelieving. “did you like it?”

“minji, you’re so cute.” you pull back to look at her, smiling as you smooth her hair. her glasses slide down again, so you take them off and set them on the counter beside you. you twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, teasing her, and she looks like she might melt on the spot.

her hand slides to the back of your neck, making you shiver, and she leans back just enough to murmur, “i’m assuming you did.”

“good observation,” you say, rolling your eyes.

she laughs, her fingers pressing slightly into your skin, and your knees feel a little weak. “so, do we keep carving pumpkins or…?”

you grin, pulling her closer. “we could… make out a little more on the couch instead? if our lips go numb, then… movie?”

minji’s smile is bright, her eyes soft. “i like that idea.”

hanni pham - a hoodie for the seasons changing

hanni walks along the inside of the sidewalk because you decided when you were eleven that it was better for her to be farther from the street, less at risk. even now, a few weeks into your last year of high school, you still keep her on the safe side. it's just one of those things you do without thinking. it’s an unspoken rule between the two of you, so hanni hadn’t thought twice about the way you pulled her by the arm to push her on her designated side.

(she did think twice about how firm your grip was, and how you had your hand on her. your bigger, stronger, nicer hands.)

with the weekend ahead, you both agree there’s no better plan than crashing at your place after school on a friday. your hands brush against each other as you walk, but neither of you say anything. you never do; never have, not about the little things, like the shared smiles, the secret glances, the quiet laughter. instead, you let yourselves enjoy the moments, bask in the warmth that fills your chest each time.

you make it to your house, then up the stairs until you two are in your room. you immediately find hanni's sweatpants in your closet — the ones she left behind last time because she’s at your house more than half the week. you'd washed them with your clothes on laundry day, because it would’ve been rude not to. you toss them to her along with one of your t-shirts. “go change,” you say, nudging her toward the bathroom with a grin.

"hey!" hanni groans, swatting your hand away as you poke her side, making her jump. “you’re so—”

“just hurry up and change so we can relax on my bed. you know how i feel about outside clothes…”

she rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, watching the little crease form between your brows from the annoyance. it’s cute, she thinks, even if she’d never admit it. she closes the bathroom door, locks it, and starts changing. her sweatpants fit the same — they’re hers, after all — but your t-shirt hangs loose and oversized on her. it’s soft against her skin, and smells like your detergent and jasmine and peaches, like you. her heart races a little. 

she catches her reflection in the mirror and notices how the shirt falls around a fingers length past her waistline. it’s not like she’s drowning in the shirt, but it’s definitely a size or two larger; you’re taller and more muscular, which happens to be her type — a fact she’s noticed a little too much for her liking. she feels a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something she doesn’t want to name, then quickly shakes it off, rolling her shoulders like she can physically push the feeling away.

she takes a breath, tugs at the hem of the shirt once more, and steps out of the bathroom, trying not to think about how much she likes wearing something that belongs to you.

when she steps out a few minutes later, she finds you on your bed with your legs spread out and hands up to hold your phone. you’re in plaid pajama joggers and your dad’s old university hoodie, you look comfy and snug, you look adorable.

she jumps on your bed, landing beside you with a bounce. the mattress shifts, and your phone slips from your grip, smacking you square in the cheek. hanni laughs at the sight.

“hey!” you groan, shooting her a playful glare.

“loser.” she mutters, reaching over to mess up your hair. “scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”

“whatever.” you roll over, patting the space beside you. hanni shuffles closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. your arm naturally slips under her neck, and she nestles in, the top of her head resting against your chest.

“comfy?” she can hear the smirk in your voice.

“yeah.” she replies softly, though her heart races. 

neither of you ever comments on the way you always end up like this, close and tangled up in each other. the term is ‘cuddling,’ but if either of you were to call it that, you’d probably cringe, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed heat neither of you could ignore.

hanni grabs her phone, opening instagram. she scrolls, her breathing evening out as she likes every animal video and taps through every story. you watch her through half-closed eyes, feeling a calm settle over you. your other arm drapes over her waist, your breathing slowing, growing heavier. 

she doesn’t notice at first, too engrossed in her phone. but when she switches to the camera, she catches a glimpse of your nose nuzzled in her hair, your eyes fully closed. she zooms in to confirm the soft snores she hears, then grins, quietly snapping a picture. she shifts, turning the camera on herself to capture both of you together.

for a while, she stays like that, tucked in your arms, watching an episode of a crime show she’s gotten hooked on. her head tilts at an odd angle, but she doesn’t mind. you’re asleep and warm beside her, and that’s all that matters.

three episodes later, she checks the time and realizes over an hour and a half has passed. somewhere in that time, you’ve pulled her closer in your sleep, murmuring something she can’t quite make out. her heart stutters each time your hand shifts against her waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric, the only layer away from her skin.

her stomach growls softly, breaking the quiet, and she decides it’s time to wake you up. turning over, your faces are inches apart, and she stops, taking a moment to just look at you. then, she leans back slightly and snaps another picture before reaching to poke your cheek. when you don’t stir, she pinches instead, shaking your shoulder lightly.

you groan, turning away from her. “five minutes… please.”

“c’mon, sleeping beauty, i’m hungry…” she sighs, her tone teasing.

“five minutes.” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “just five more…”

hanni sighs dramatically, then tries a new tactic. “i’ll pay if you get up right now. anything you want from the convenience store.”

you crack one eye open, barely, squinting at her. you roll over, sprawling into a starfish position. “fine… but five minutes, okay?” you plead, clinging to her leg.

hanni laughs softly at the warmth radiating from you, her resolve weakening. she runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently until five minutes turns into ten, then fifteen. finally, she nudges you awake, and the two of you head out, still in your cozy clothes.

as you walk to the convenience store, staying close, hanni steps on a leaf that crunches underfoot. “wow, it’s already fall,” she murmurs.

“well, obviously.” you tease, only to get a kick to the back of your knee. you nearly stumble, catching yourself with a laugh. “what the hell?”

“you suck.” she grumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“you suck more,” you retort, nudging her back.

“whatever.”

you smile at her, and she catches it from the corner of her eye. she nudges you away again, but you keep staring, unable to help yourself. “you’ve gotten really pretty, you know?”

“are you saying i used to be ugly?” she laughs lightheartedly, expecting a playful response, but instead, you surprise her.

“you’ve never been ugly.” your voice is softer, more sincere. “you’ve always been pretty.” then your voice gets quieter, “gorgeous.”

there’s a pause, both of you walking in silence for a moment. you kick a small rock forward, and it lands by hanni’s feet. she kicks it ahead, breaking the quiet. “thanks.” she says, feeling your eyes on her but not daring to meet your gaze. “you’ve always been cute too, ever since we met in fifth grade.”

“oh.” you whisper, looking up just in time to see the store ahead — a small savior from the tension that’s thickened the air between you. you clear your throat, trying to shift the mood. “i can’t wait for my free dinner.”

hanni pushes you playfully, and you pout, making her wish she could capture the expression and keep it forever.

you two head inside, and hanni visibly relaxes as the warm air greets you. she hadn’t mentioned how chilly it was outside, even though she could’ve easily put on her jacket. part of her had hoped, maybe, you’d notice and offer her your hoodie instead.

both of you wander around the store for about ten minutes, emerging with a pork bun and a sweet tea in your hands, while hanni clutches a sweet pastry and a can of soda. instead of turning back towards your house, you keep moving forward, hanni trailing just behind you. 

the route is familiar. it’s the path down to the little stream where you and hanni have shared countless secrets, talking until the sun dips below the horizon. tonight feels like one of those nights, perfect for sitting on the favorite bench you two have claimed as your own, watching the sunset as it starts a little earlier than usual.

you kick a small rock into the stream, watching the ripples spread out, and catch hanni shivering slightly in the corner of your eye as she takes a small bite of the sweet potato-filled bun. 

“can you hold my stuff?” you ask, extending your hands. hanni hums in confusion but takes your things without hesitation.

she watches as you stand up, pulling off your hoodie. her eyes linger on the way your long-sleeve shirt lifts slightly, revealing a hint of your torso, the lean muscle just barely visible in the fading light. she catches herself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks warming. you fix your hair casually before draping the hoodie over her lap.

she furrows her brows, looking up at you. “what?”

you glance down at the hoodie, then back at her. “put it on.”

“why?”

“because you’re cold.” you shrug, sitting back down beside her and taking the food and drinks out of her hands to set them down. you grab the hoodie again and pull it over her shoulders, tugging it down until her head pops through and the hood falls over her eyes. “better?”

she mumbles, “you didn’t have to.”

“it’s getting colder. i’m fine like this.” you reply, pinching the fabric of your shirt before reaching out to adjust the hood over her forehead, smoothing down her hair. a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add quietly, “besides, i know you wanted my hoodie anyway.”

she nearly chokes on air, her cheeks burning. “i– i didn’t! you’re so–”

“you look better in it anyway,” you chuckle, turning back to face the stream. you sneak a bite of her pastry, the playful smile on your lips growing.

hanni huffs but doesn't protest, her fingers curling into the sleeves of your hoodie, a smile sneaking onto her face despite herself.

she looks at you fondly, biting the inside of her cheek, before crossing her arms and turning her gaze to match yours. your hoodie is thick with your scent, and hanni feels like she could drown in it. without realizing it, she scoots closer, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her.

hanni can’t hold back anymore.

“y/n.”

“yes?”

“the fall dance is really early this year.”

“yeah, it’s next week. i feel like i’ll breathe and it’ll already time to get ready for it.”

“do you have a date?”

you scoff, shaking your head with a small laugh. “you know i’ve never managed to get a date for that. we always end up going with yunjin’s group anyway. are you teasing me for not having one?”

hanni chuckles, leaning even closer against your side. “maybe a little.”

“do you have a date?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“no.”

“you know, i overheard jay’s friends talking. sounds like he might ask you out.”

hanni cringes at the thought of jay, the guy from her statistics class who never stops staring at her. his crush on her is painfully obvious, and he always finds an excuse to talk to her or get her attention.

but the truth is, hanni's always wished you’d be the one to ask her to the fall dance, but you’re oblivious, always a little clueless.

“y/n,” she tries again, voice soft.

“yes?” 

“we should go to the fall dance together.”

“yeah, i was thinking that too. should we go with yunjin’s friend group again? jimin also asked if we wanted to–”

“no,” hanni interrupts, pulling away from your arm, and looks at you seriously. you tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. she meets your gaze, but quickly looks away, suddenly feeling too exposed. “i was wondering if… well— ugh.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “we should go together, alone, just us. we don't have to actually go to the dance, I know we just went out in the city last time and crashed at yunjins place and we can just do whatever you want to! i don't really care i just want to be with you becauseilikeyoualotand--"

hanni pauses before finally getting to her point. "i want you to be my date, y/n."

your lips curl into a sly smile, and then you laugh.

hanni's face is a mix of confusion and anxiety, her mind racing with uncertainty at your reaction. 

“took you long enough,” you say, grinning wider now. “i was going to ask you out, but i wanted to see if you had the guts to do it first.”

“asshole!” hanni groans, shoving you away. she turns her face to hide the deep flush coloring her cheeks. “i take it back.”

“no, you don’t.” your arm tightens around her, pulling her closer again, and you use your free hand to gently tilt her face towards you, fingers brushing her chin. “i’m not going to let you.”

her breath catches when your eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

“w-was that a yes?” hanni asks, voice small, almost uncertain.

your fingers drop from her chin, and you lean back slightly against the bench. both of you are moving closer, almost unconsciously, drawn together by the tension. she feels her eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head, leaning in just a bit more.

“if i kiss you, would you take that as a yes?” you whisper, eyes focused on her lips.

hanni’s voice is barely audible as she murmurs, “mhm,” giving you the green light. you lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. she melts into it, feeling every nerve ending come alive in those few seconds. you pull back just enough to take in her flushed cheeks, the warmth of the autumn sun casting a soft glow over her face.

“i’d love to be your date, hanni,” you say softly, smiling as her face breaks into a relieved grin.

danielle marsh - apple picking

danielle stands beside you, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes in the familiar sight. she's wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old, oversized sweater that you know belongs to her dad, her wavy brown hair clipped up to keep loose strands from framing her face.

the apple orchard stretches out before you, rows of trees dotted with red and green apples glistening under the golden afternoon sun. you and danielle have been coming here every fall since you were kids, but this is the first time you've managed to make it back since starting college. the sunlight feels warm against your skin, but it definitely makes her shine brighter, even in the cool crispness of fall.

she grabs your hand, slipping her fingers into yours without a second thought, and pulls you down the path toward the orchard's entrance. you grin at how eager she is; being here together again fills you with a deep, comforting warmth. being around danielle always does that to you, really. 

a friendly man greets you at the entrance, handing you a basket and asking if you have any questions. you both shake your heads, and he gives you a cheerful smile, wishing you good luck.

it’s peak apple-picking season, so naturally the orchard is filled with families, couples, and groups of friends, all scouring the trees for the best apples. there’s a little worry in the back of your mind that the good ones might already be gone.

“so many people,” danielle breathes, a little awestruck. “i wonder if we’re too late.”

“we’ll be fine,” you assure her, squeezing her hand lightly. “when have we ever gotten a bad apple? even the green ones end up sweet.”

“maybe that's because you always pick them~” she teases, giving you that playful smile that always makes your stomach twist and turn. you hate it a little, but you love it more—especially the way it makes your cheeks heat up.

“you're so— ugh.” you look away, trying to hide the way she flusters you, but you tug her hand, pulling her along.

you wander a bit farther down the path, away from the crowd. danielle’s eyes light up when she spots a tree heavy with apples. she lets go of your hand, darting forward, studying the branches.

“this one’s perfect,” she says, reaching up on tiptoe, fingers just brushing a particularly shiny apple.

you watch her struggle for a moment, biting back a laugh. “need some help?”

she glances back, trying to look serious but failing. instead, she gives you her signature pout, the one that makes you melt everytime you see it. “i guess i could use a little help,” she admits.

you move closer, setting the basket down. “hop on,” you offer, patting your back.

she giggles before jumping onto your back, her laughter bright in your ear as you steady her by holding her legs. she reaches up, plucking the apple from the branch with a satisfied hum. "got it!"

“nice catch,” you say, lowering her back to the ground.

she turns to you, cheeks flushed from the thrill of the simple task, still holding the apple. “i’ve got my own personal apple-picking assistant,” she teases, nudging you.

“not free of charge,” you joke, smiling at her. 

her happiness is contagious, and you're more than willing to let it take over the afternoon. 

(and really, your whole life—but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.)

“but always happy to help, miss marsh.”

you and danielle spend the next couple of hours wandering through the orchard, picking apples, laughing, and reminiscing about the times you’d done this as kids. you remember danielle’s dad lifting you up on his shoulders when you were too small to reach, and the time she accidentally knocked one of your teeth out with a misplaced apple throw. her laughter fills the space between you, and more than once, she climbs onto your back again, her hands on your shoulders, her face so close you can feel her breath on your neck. it’s nerve-racking, but much more heart warming.

as the sun starts to dip, the air cools, and you catch danielle stifling a yawn. “getting sleepy?” you ask, watching her rub her eyes the same way she used to when you were younger.

"maybe a little," she admits, yawning again, trying to blink away the sleepiness settling in her eyes. "but i don't want to leave yet. this is too much fun."

 really, she doesn’t want the day to end at all. spending time with you like this feels like the good old days, back when things were simple and easy, and danielle would do just about anything to stretch it out a little longer. she's always been whipped for anything involving you, for every shared laugh, for every time your shoulder accidentally brushes hers. she knows she would spend every minute she has left doing nothing but this, being with you, if she could. it's been harder lately—with college and schedules pulling you both in different directions, with classes, work, and life taking up so much of the time she used to have with you. the thought makes her chest ache a little, makes her cling to this moment even more tightly, like she could hold on to it forever. 

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper, almost like she’s talking to herself more than you. “since we just got to be like this.”

“yeah,” you agree, a touch of something bittersweet in your smile. “way too long.”

her fingers brush yours, almost like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she doesn't hold on, her hand still warm from holding yours all afternoon. “i wish we could do this every day,” she sighs, her tone playful and smile warm, but it makes her heart ache a bit.

you feel your heart squeeze at that, at the honesty in her voice, and you reach out, squeezing her hand in return. “me too,”

for a moment, you both stand there, just holding hands, feeling the weight of all the missed moments and the sweetness of the one you’re in now. the orchard is quieter now, the sun sinking lower, casting everything in a soft, golden light. you think it makes her look even more beautiful, like she belongs in a place like this, caught between the sunset and the apples and the way her smile seems to light up her whole face.

“anyway,” you clear your throat, breaking yourself from your trance. “we’ve been here for hours, dani,” you chuckle. “it’s okay if you’re tired.”

“okay, maybe i am tired,” she says, shoulders slumping. “fine, let's head back.”

“it’s an hour drive anyway, maybe longer with traffic,” you point out, pinching her cheek just because. “you can sleep in the car.”

after paying for your apples and accepting a free mini apple pie from the cashier, you head back to the car. you hold her hand with one hand and carry the bag of apples with the other, feeling content as you walk through the fading light.

at the car, danielle settles into the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering shut as soon as you start driving. you glance over at her, peaceful and serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted. she looks so pretty under the soft glow of the streetlights that you can’t resist taking a quick picture when you reach the nearest stop sign.

you drive quietly, letting the soft sounds of her breathing fill the car. when you arrive at her house, you unbuckle her seatbelt carefully, brushing your fingers over her skin in the process. she murmurs something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. you gently lift her out of the car, cradling her against your chest. she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, holding on like she doesn’t want to let go.

getting inside is a bit of a challenge; you end up going through the gate to the backyard. once you’re inside, you lay her down gently on the couch, intending to pull away, but she tightens her grip around you. “no, y/n… stay,” she mumbles.

your arm moves around her, instinctively pulling her closer, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against you, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of yours. she smells like apples and cinnamon and the orchard and what it feels like to be a child and filled with adoration. it fills your senses, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in everything that feels good and familiar.

your fingers continue to gently massage her scalp, and before long, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift off with her beside you, feeling completely at peace.

—

you aren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when the creak of the front door makes you stir. your eyes flutter open to a blurry room, the dim light barely catching on the edges of furniture. you blink, trying to sit up, but danielle’s weight is still against you, her face tucked into the curve of your neck, her breaths soft and steady. 

a quiet voice breaks the sleepy haze. “well, look at that.”

you blink harder, clearing your vision to see danielle’s parents standing in the doorway, looking amused. their expressions are soft, eyes twinkling with the kind of knowing that makes your cheeks flush. you shift slightly, attempting to move, but danielle’s hold tightens, her face burrowing deeper into your neck, refusing to let go even in her sleep.

“hi,” you manage, voice thick with sleep, feeling the warmth creep up your face. “we were just… she fell asleep in the car, and i didn’t want to wake her.”

danielle’s mom smiles gently, eyes creasing at the corners. “you two look comfortable. did you have fun at the orchard?”

“yeah…” you murmur, still a little groggy, the day’s warmth lingering in your chest.

danielle’s dad chuckles, his gaze softening. “she’s hanging on like a little bear,” he says with a grin. “reminds me of when you two were kids, falling asleep in the backseat. she’d twist herself into the strangest positions, and you always seemed to make room for her.”

of course you did, you always made room for her, whether that was in the backseat of her parents’ car, your mind, or your heart.

you feel your cheeks get hotter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. you glance down at danielle, her face still nestled into you, and it strikes you how natural it feels, like this was always how it was supposed to be.

as her parents quietly make their way upstairs, you lean back into the cushions, fingers absentmindedly brushing through danielle’s hair, the strands soft against your skin.

“y/n?” her voice is a soft mumble, barely more than a whisper. “are my parents home?”

“yeah,” you say softly, feeling her shift slightly.

“mhm... can we stay like this?” her voice is slurred, on the edge of falling back into sleep.

“whatever you want, dani.”

“okay,” she breathes, then after a pause, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“thanks for today,” she sighs, her words sleepy and warm against your neck. “i love you.”

the words make your heart swell, and maybe it’s the sleepiness or the quiet of the room, but you find the courage to press a soft kiss to her forehead, even if it means twisting awkwardly. you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the moment, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

“i love you too danielle.”

[mrtelevisionlover]

can i request a chrismd one where you where one if the girls in the 20 women vs 1 youtuber football edition and fans start to ship you two? even the guys haha! loving your work btw!!

Yes!! Loved writing this, enjoy!

(Can you tell I know nothing about football?)

words: 1500+

Style

When Y/n got a DM from Chris’ manager asking her to be in this video, she wasn’t too sure what to think. She wasn’t very lucky in the dating scene, only going on a few first dates, and had never had a boyfriend. She didn’t really want to embarrass herself in front of his millions of subscribers but she had been a fan of his work for a while and had always wanted to meet him so…why not?

The morning of, she was very nervous. She had bought a new shirt to wear, and paired it with some shorts. She braided her hair into a simple french braid and stepped into some worn out trainers. She decided to go without makeup, as she was probably going to sweat it off. Also the weather outside was horrible and she didn’t want mascara dripping down her face…And she was late for the train.

When she arrived on the pitch, she saw 19 other girls, all very pretty. She suddenly felt insecure, especially as no-one was talking to her. She decided to go over her pickup line, seeing as that would be his first impression of her.

Soon, the cameras started rolling and one by one, the girls would introduce themselves to Chris and his two friends, Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Eventually, it was just her left. She watched Chris say goodbye to Loretta, who she eventually learnt had been on a few dates with Chris already. Once his manager gave her the green light, she walked over to the table.

“Wow-Hello!” Chris smiles. He takes a moment to look at her face, admiring her.

“Hi! I’m Y/n and uh…Can you be your striker? I'm only aiming for your heart.” Y/n giggles slightly, and the sound brings blush to Chris’ cheeks. 

“Aww, that’s quite sweet.” Arthur coos.

Freezy pauses, then points, nodding his head. “You know what, I like it.” 

Chris shakes his head slightly, and presses a hand to his cheek. “Are you any good at football?”

“I play with my dog sometimes?...” She shrugs, embarrassment painting her cheeks slightly.

“Oh…Okay. Well, I wish you the best of luck.” He smiles.

“Thank you!” She takes a few steps away from the ball before running towards it and kicking it with all her might. Unfortunately, the ball narrowly misses the goal, and goes over the top.

“Ooh! That was good, I’ll give you that.” Chris exclaims, clapping his hands together in celebration.

Cal sighs, “That almost made it too.”

“I’m actually surprised I got it that close. I thought it’d end up behind me.” Y/n gasps as two hands cover her mouth. She was quite awful at football and really surprised herself.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Arthur looks towards Chris in anticipation. He knows Chris already likes her, he can see the look in his eye– it was the same in school.

“Yeah, you’re through.” He smiles. Freezy takes note that this is the widest he’s smiled so far.

“Really? Thank you!” Y/n does a little jump before waving goodbye. She walks over to the rest of the girls where they actually start to talk to her. She starts talking to Rose, an American streamer who flew all the way over to be on this video. She seemed to really like Chris and Y/n started to get a little nervous, Rose was very pretty.

“She seems really sweet.” Arthur whispers to Chris as you walk away.

“She’s really pretty too.” Chris blushes, sending a shy smile towards him.

Freezy perks up, “Uh-oh, Chris is falling already.” He laughs.

Soon after, they moved into round two. Twelve girls remained, Y/n included, and they had three free kicks. Chris, Freezy, and Arthur stood in a line a few metres in front of the goal while the girls aimed for it, the 3 of them often getting hit. 

“Hello Y/n.” Chris beams. Cal laughs at him while Arthur nudges his shoulder. 

“Hi again.” She smiles, waving to the 3 of them. She’s incredibly nervous. She worries her luck has run out and has a bad feeling she’s going to hit one of them.

“Any technique you're aiming for?”

“Um…To score? Hopefully” She laughs. Chris giggles, Arthur and Freezy give each other a look

“Okay, Well…Best of luck.” He smiles.

Y/n steps back from the ball, lets out a little breath, and kicks the ball. It goes over their heads, and misses the goal. “Aww, come on!”

“It’s alright, you got two more!”

She kicks the ball again, she uses less power and it rolls towards the goal slowly. Arthur lets out a little laugh and Chris hits his chest with a scowl. 

“One more, give it some power!”

“Okay.” She mutters to herself as she walks back to the line. “Just score one, please.” She whispers, closing her eyes.

Y/n lets out another little breath before kicking the ball with all her strength. She watches the ball fly through the air and…Hit Chris right in the groin.

Arthur screams, “OHH!” as Chris falls to the floor, Calfeezy struggling to breathe from laughter. 

“Oh my-Are you okay!?” Y/n quickly runs towards him, leaning down to check on him.

“There goes my ability to have kids.” He groans, rolling on the floor.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even know I could do that-” She apologises as her face is flooded in guilt. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Chris slowly gets up, Y/n helping him.

“Are you sure? I’m just gonna go-”

“No! You’re through.”

“Wait, what!?” Cal exclaims as Arthur gives the camera a look of bewilderment. 

“Really?” She gasps.

“Yeah, you’re really sweet.” Chris rubs his hand down her arm, soothing her slightly.

“Oh, thank you. Again, I’m really sorry.” Y/n face plants as she walks away, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“You are insane.” Arthur mutters.

“What can I say, I really like her.” Chris shrugs, then wincing

 For the third round, the nine remaining girls had to show a talent. Y/n watched girls throw and kick footballs, recite poems, and participate in an arm wrestling contest. She decided to do some gymnastics, as that was the only thing she could come up with. 

“Hello Y/n, what will you be showing us today?”

“I will be doing some gymnastics.” 

“Oh cool! Ready when you are.” 

She starts by doing a handstand, then holding it for a few seconds before falling into a bridge. She stands up and does a simple cartwheel, then falls into the splits. She hears the guys cheering her on and she giggles slightly. She decides to finish it off with a few flips, landing in front of the table. 

“Wow…” Chris stares in awe.

“That was so cool” Arthur exclaimed, shaking Chris slightly.

“It’s a yes!” 

“Really? Thank you! See you later.” You wave them off. Chris watches you walk off, subtly checking you out. Freezy notices this and laughs at him, smacking him over the head.

“So…It’s Y/n and Rose, right? Those 2 you were smiling the entire time.“

“Yeah…Yeah, it’s them.”

“So…We’ve made a decision and we’ve decided to put Y/n and Rose into the final.”

“Woo!” The rest of the girls clap.

Both girls did rock, paper, scissors to decide who was starting first and Y/n won. Chris held an Umbrella over her head as he led her to the goal.

“So uh…What baby names do you like?”

“I like classic ones like Charlotte, or Henry.”

“Oh nice. I like Heather.” 

“Aww, that’s really cute. How many kids do you want?”

“As many as my wife will have, I don’t mind.”

Y/n smiles and realizes she's at the line. She says a little goodbye and watches him walk away. 

Eventually, Rose had scored 2 out of her 4 tries, and Y/n only had scored 1 out of her three. If she wanted a chance, she’d have to score. Y/n stands in front of the ball and closes her eyes, and slows down her breathing. She shakes her hands, stretches her neck, and kicks the ball.

She watches the ball fly through the sky, miss the goalie, and hit the net! She hears the guys celebrate behind her and realises she’s back in the game. 

She then watches Rose hit the ball for the final time, and watches as it narrowly misses the goal. Y/n hears gasps next to her as someone shakes her shoulders.

“If you score this, you win! No pressure though.” Arthur smiles at her sheepishly. She nods, still in shock. Y/n turns to Chris as she walks away and he gives her a reassuring smile, and a thumbs up. 

Y/n turns to the ball and eyes up the goal. She lets out one final breath and kicks the ball. It feels like everything is going in slow-motion, and she can’t watch anymore. She turns around and covers her eyes, only opening them when all 3 guys scream in excitement. 

She turns back around to see the ball in the goal and she gasps. “I did it!” Chris runs over and gives her a hug, congratulating her in her ear. She hugs him back, and squeals in surprise when he picks her up. Chris then gives her a gold envelope with a lot of money inside.

“No-I can’t keep this.” Y/n tries to give him back the envelope but he puts up his hands

“Yes you can, you won.”

“No-” She tries.

“Yes.”

“A date with you is the prize.” She pleads.

He smiles, before pushing the envelope back in her hands.

The video then cuts to them both skipping into the distance, with cute music playing over the top. It then fades, the video ending.

Comments: usera: Hello!? The chemestry between the two? SO glad she won

userb: rose was robbed tbh

userc: DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THEY ACTUALLY WENT ON A DATE I NEED TO KNOW!!

userd: who's wating for arthurs ai generated comment?

usere: you could see how much chris liked her from the start. who knew he was such a blushy boy!?

userf: so cute! Hope to see her in other videos

userg: him picking her up at the end? they better be together

userh: her talking about men's mental health? chris, she's a keeper!

Well, I hope you like it. My first real fic, done!! also, ignore any mistakes, i'll go over them tomorrow x

[dangopango00]

KISSES WITH HIM

Giving, Receiving, Misc (General-Beginning-Comfortable)

Sports Characters x S/O!GN Reader

(Hyoma Chigiri, Kenma Kozume)

A/N: Random late night burst of productivity going crazy rn my heart is so full 🥹 love my long haired sports beloveds they’re both serving that black cat gf vibe but in different ways 

Also the misc is basically bout accessories n stuff; stuff that may or may not apply to you hc as well as yn wise 

Also messy bcos I haven’t slept um. Anyway, im sorry its so biased the thoughts were just flowing into my head my bad ill do better

HCS UTC

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyoma Chigiri:

{ GIVING

I swear this dude makes flustering you his personal goal and he definitely likes to kiss you when you least expect it for his own amusement as he likes the surprised face you make 

Life hack to get more kisses is stroke his ego because he will give in 100% of the time even if he knows you have an ulterior motive; his heart just feels so full when you praise him because he knows you mean it AND he’s confident in himself, so he knows it's true too 

Basically an angel during the beginning of your relationship like he’s still him of course but he doesn’t tease you as much and he’s gentler since he doesn’t know you intimately yet– quick soft kisses and a ghost of a touch

I don’t think there’d be a time where he’s really uncomfortable per se in your relationship as he’s already quite bold and I am subscribed to the Hyoma best friends to lovers agenda but I do think he’d be more playful/confident as time goes on and would start messing with you more intimately like nipping your lip a bit when kissing and teasing you more often (he thinks it's funny)

HUGE TEASE but also just a bit clingy in general. Like I said, he likes to fluster you for his own entertainment, so he definitely does fakeout kisses but sometimes he just wants to be close to you. For example, getting impossibly close to you and giving you a smirk vs resting his forehead on yours, letting his eyelids flutter shut are very different moods for him but tend to have the same effect on you

{ RECEIVING 

Will refuse kisses on his face during and shortly after skincare time but you’re allowed to kiss him all you want right before then and once the products have set into your skin (you def do your skincare together); Once he’s had enough gently presses his thumb to your lips and teases you, noting that you seem to be in a lovey dovey mood

Definitely easy to fluster in the beginning of your relationship since he isn’t used to your relationship being intimate and probably gets needy fast if the kiss grows passionate

I just know no matter what he was doing, this dude was always ready and waiting for a kiss; this especially applies if he’s getting ready to leave for a prolonged amount of time like for practice or whatever he may have to do and he keeps looking over checking where you are to see if he will get the kiss he so desires

Once he gets more comfortable, he’d love it if you were cheesier tbh. I think he would find cheesy romantic gestures silly and endearing as he enjoys the simple things. He just likes to know that you love him and that you mean it; ESPECIALLY likes when you put your own personal spin on a classic cheesy gesture like giving him a bouquet of handwritten love notes or books he’d like (Booket booket for my sweetiey 🥹)

Not a big fan of being peppered in kisses especially if you’re wearing lipgloss/stick/balm (sticky and messy) but he really enjoys seeing the way you smile at him– the way any tension in your face absolutely melts after you do it 

{ BONUS/MISC

A HUUUGEEE sucker for you running your hands through his hair as you kiss, it drives him up the wall; contrary to popular belief I really don’t think he would like you pulling on it. Bye. He’d make a face 

I’m not sure how actually committed I am to this HC bc I do in fact have vampire fever rn but just thought of him with slightly prominent canines (little fangies) I think it would be cute; he’d def kiss your cheek then nip it a bit for fun 

His skin is SOOOOOO soft, the most squishable face in the world and that extends to his lips. Feigns irritation when you squish his cheeks and kiss him, but he thinks it's silly; rolls his eyes 

If you have piercings, he would NOT stop kissing them; loves the cold of the metal against his lips, especially if it’s a lip piercing

If you have curly/wavy/coily hair he’d twist your hair around his finger when flirting with you before or after kissing you

If you are muscular or have some chub he’d love to feel you up while you kiss; when it comes to muscle of course he’d love to run his hands over your muscles (namely your chest and back) and when it comes to chub, he’d be a fan of smoothing his thumbs over your love handles (area right before where your thighs start– pelvis bone area)

Kenma Kozume:

{ GIVING

He’s kinda in his own head so honestly, he probably wouldn’t be the initiator often even if you’ve been together for a while like he straight up forgets he can do that sometimes

DEFINITELY likes when you ask him to kiss you because it makes him feel needed; he’s always the one being needy for you, so he loves when you return the same energy for him because it reminds him that despite everything you do love him

You have to direct him a little bit in the beginning of your relationship bc he’ll just peck you and go back to what he was doing or linger hoping you’ll ask for more at most if you ask him for a kiss 😭 

Can’t stop smiling into the damn kiss once he gets comfortable in your relationship because he’s just so happy to be with you like going about his day is neutral but getting a kiss from you is something special for him 

When he does kiss you, he usually takes it very slow with chaste pecks on your cheeks and around your mouth until finally planting a gentle yet long lasting kiss directly on your lips

{ RECEIVING 

Is like a cat that gets a little overwhelmed at too much attention; scrunches his face if you kiss all over his face for too long, he’s not mad about it but he feels like his head will explode, evident by the wrinkle of his nose and by how tightly knitted his brows appear

Definitely a little insecure about his lips being chapped in the beginning of your relationship and lathers his mouth in chapstick before kissing you if he can help it

He even gets a bit nervous if you kiss him before he can get to it especially since your lips feel so nice to him while his are…meh

When he gets more comfortable in your relationship, he’d love it if you pulled on his clothes while kissing him like for example pulling him towards you by his collar or simply holding onto his clothes while kissing 

Huge fan of you kissing him while you’re both shirtless but it embarasses him so bad he would have a heart attack and a half, so he instead enjoys biting your shoulder from behind while you’re shirtless  

{ BONUS/MISC

I recently started hcing Kenma with like seasonal freckles at least so I think he’d be a big fan of you kissing them as he used to get made fun of for having them and often hid them if he could

Lwk likes it when you sneak up on him while he’s wearing his headphones and give him a kiss it’s like a treat especially if you do it when he’s about to get heated at a game he’s playing

This isn’t really a hc as he does have eyebags canonically butttt I think he would LOVE when you kiss his eyebags it never fails to make him smile and he doesn’t really know why, doesn’t really get why you do it in the first place either, but he enjoys it

If you have long nails, he’d be such a fan of you digging them into him a bit while you kiss (not too hard just enough to feel it)

If you wear sweetly scented smell goods (especially if it resembles the scent of freshly baked apple pie!!) it serves as a reminder that he should kiss you; pulls him out of his head for a bit 

If you wear jewelry, he’d subconsciously fiddle with some of your jewelry while you kiss, like holding your hands and twisting your rings a bit while you kiss or grazing over your earrings with his thumb

[orphicrose]

Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself

Old man and an Iphone

Requests are still open indeed.

I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s

This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.

----------------------

Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.

You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.

The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.

Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.

The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.

Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.

After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.

"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.

"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.

"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over

Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"

"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.

"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.

"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.

Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.

"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.

"What is a 5 million subscriber?"

"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.

"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.

"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.

You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"

He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"

"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"

The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"

"Done"

A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.

"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.

"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.

"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.

"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."

"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.

"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"

It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"

"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"

It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.

You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.

"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"

"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.

"Do hurry"

[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: war, blood, gore, depression, feelings of hopelessness, serious angst

word count: 4.5k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @salvatoresister1 @imperfect0angel @stvrdustalexx

Image owned by Dream World Dweller.

For more amazing artwork by this artist, join Patreon and become a subscriber to this artist's collections!

********************

Chapter 16

Y/n POV

I lay in the cold dirt, my body trembling as pain rippled through me. The faebane arrows had stolen my magic, and with it, any chance of defending myself. My sword had fallen from my grip, and my wings were broken in places, the feathers bloodied. I could feel the damp earth pressing against my skin, feel the vibration of Hybern soldiers around me, their boots stomping closer, their laughter ringing in my ears.

But it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The bond. The faint hum of it still pulsed, fragile and delicate, as though mocking me with its existence.

My mate.

The love of my life.

Azriel.

A tear slipped down my dirt-streaked face as I stared up at the ashen sky. It was funny, I thought bitterly, how life could be so wonderful and yet so cruel in the same breath. How in one moment, I could meet the love of my life, the one the Mother had made just for me, and in the very next, he was ripped away - taken from me before I’d even had the chance to understand what it truly meant.

The thought burned through my mind, sharp and relentless. Why hadn’t I realized it when he looked at me with that quiet intensity, when his voice softened as he called me angel? Why hadn’t I felt it when he trained me, when we visit Velaris together, when we watch the stars at night, when his hands lingered just a second too long on my wrist, or when he spoke to me in that low, gruff tone that made my heart race?

I saw the devastation on his face, the love and regret warring within him. And despite the exhaustion, the blood, and the agony of the moment, my heart swelled with something fierce and unyielding.

I loved him.

More than life, more than anything.

I had loved him long before I understood the bond, and now it burned through me, consuming every part of me.

But there was no time for it.

Not now.

I had been blind to the truth. Or perhaps, I hadn’t wanted to believe it. Not when Azriel was so wrapped up in Elain, so seemingly out of reach.

But he loved me the entire time.

Me.

And now?

Now, I knew. I had felt it when the bond snapped into place—an electric cord that had ignited my very soul. I’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in the way his voice cracked when he said, “I love you.”

I’ll come back for you. I swear it.

I let out a ragged breath, the tears slipping freely now. Wasn’t it cruel? To finally find him—my mate—only to have to let him go and save Elain? To watch him soar away, carrying someone else to safety while I stood my ground, knowing I couldn’t ask him to stay. Knowing that I was doing the right thing.

My hands curled weakly into the dirt, the sting of my injuries barely noticeable compared to the agony in my heart.

Why didn’t I see it sooner?

If I had, would it have changed anything? Would I have told him that I loved him before today? Would I have fought harder for him? For myself?

I closed my eyes for a moment, the bond flickering faintly in my chest, as though it, too, was trying to hold on to life. To him.

I thought of Azriel’s face—how his expression had twisted with desperation when he called angel, how his voice had shattered when he said he loved me. The memory was a lifeline, even now, even as the soldiers swarmed closer, their cruel voices ringing out as they closed the distance.

“I love you,” I had whispered as he flew away, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

And I’d meant it.

I would love him forever, no matter what came next.

My tears mixed with the blood on my cheeks as I lay there, my breaths shallow, my mind spiraling.

Life was cruel.

It gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for in one breath and then took it away in the next.

Azriel.

The broody, stubborn Shadowsinger.

The one who could take my breath away with just one glance.

The one whose touch I yearned for.

The one I would put above my own life.

My love.

My mate.

And yet, despite it all, I clung to that single, fragile promise that had been whispered to me before he left.

I’ll come back for you.

My fingers curled tighter into the dirt, slick with my own blood pooling underneath me as darkness crept in around me. I held onto that promise with every shattered piece of myself.

Please come back, Azriel.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel landed hard in the center of the war camp, his wings flaring wide as he touched down, Elain cradled protectively in his arms. Her pale face was streaked with dirt and blood, her body limp, her breathing faint but steady. Azriel’s chest heaved, his shadows writhing violently around him as though echoing the storm inside him.

“Feyre!” His voice rang out, sharp and urgent, cutting through the chaos of the camp.

Feyre appeared almost immediately, her bow still slung across her back, her violet eyes widening as she took in the sight of Elain in Azriel’s arms. “What happened?” she demanded, rushing toward him.

Azriel gently lowered Elain into her waiting arms, his hazel eyes dark, haunted. “Hybern took her,” he said tightly, his voice raw and rough with emotion. “Y/n… Y/n went after her Elain. She kept her safe until I could get there. Feyre—get her to the healers. Now.”

Feyre hesitated for just a moment, her gaze darting between Azriel and Elain, sensing something far worse in his tone. “Azriel—what about Y/n?”

He clenched his jaw, his wings twitching as if ready to launch himself back into the air immediately. “She stayed,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. “She told me to go—to save Elain.” He shook his head sharply, his fists clenching. “She held Hybern’s soldiers back to I could fly. I had to leave her.”

Feyre’s eyes widened in horror. “What? No—”

“I have to go back,” Azriel said fiercely, his shadows flaring around him like a dark, living force. He turned sharply, already heading toward the command tent where Rhysand and Cassian were likely coordinating.

Azriel stormed into the command tent without waiting to be announced, his wings snapping open as his shadows spun wildly around him. Rhysand looked up from the war map, his violet eyes narrowing instantly at the look on Azriel’s face. Cassian, who had been standing nearby, froze, his brows knitting in immediate concern.

“Azriel?” Rhys demanded sharply, straightening. “What happened?”

Azriel didn’t stop as he closed the distance, his voice low and laced with devastation. “Hybern took Elain. Y/n went after her and kept her safe until I arrived. She sent me back with Elain, holding off the soldiers so I could fly.”

Cassian swore, his expression hardening. “Where’s Y/n now?”

Azriel swallowed thickly, his chest heaving as he struggled to find the words. “I had to leave her,” he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She told me to go. To save Elain. She stayed behind—she held them off.” He looked away, his jaw tight, his hands trembling faintly as his shadows coiled violently at his feet. “The bond snapped for her.”

The tent went still.

Rhysand’s face paled slightly, his violet eyes widening with shock. “The bond snapped for her? You mean – you already knew she was your mate, and you never told her?”

Azriel nodded, his voice hoarse. “Yes. I never told her.” He paused, the memory of her face burning into his mind—her wide, tear-filled eyes, the confusion, the love. “She looked at me… and she said, ‘You’re my mate.’”

Cassian cursed under his breath, pacing away before turning back, his face grim. “And you left her there?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Azriel growled, spinning toward him, his voice raw with guilt and anger. “She told me to save Elain. Time was running out. I couldn’t fly without her holding the soldiers—” His voice cracked, and his wings sagged slightly as he whispered, “I told her I loved her. I told her I was coming back for her.”

Rhysand’s face paled, his shoulders tensing as the full weight of the situation settled in. “You’re telling me she could be dead? Or Hybern has her?”

Azriel’s jaw worked as he swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Cassian cursed under his breath, pacing a few steps before turning back sharply. “If they’ve taken her, it’s because they know who she is.”

Rhysand turned his gaze to the far horizon, his power curling around him like a storm held barely in check. “There’s too much at stake. If they know she’s my sister, they’ll…” He didn’t finish the thought.

Azriel’s gaze snapped up, his hazel eyes blazing. “She’s alive. I know she’s alive. I can feel her.” The bond, though faint, pulsed weakly in his chest, a thread he refused to let go of. “But we have to go back—now.”

Cassian looked away, his jaw tight, his face shadowed with grief.

Rhysand exhaled sharply, his jaw tight as his gaze flickered between Azriel and Cassian. “We’ll go,” he said, his voice firm, though there was an edge of unease to it. “We’ll go now.”

Azriel didn’t hesitate, turning on his heel and striding out of the tent, his wings flaring as he prepared to take off.

Rhysand followed closely behind, his voice carrying low and steady as he called out, “Cassian—rally who you can. We need to move fast.”

Cassian nodded and disappeared into the camp, barking orders as he went.

Azriel paused only long enough to glance skyward, his shadows twisting restlessly around him.

Hold on, Angel, he thought fiercely.

I’m coming back for you.

The bond pulsed faintly—so faintly he could barely feel it. But it was there. It was still there. He tugged it with everything he had so she would feel him. To know she was not alone.

And as he launched into the air with Rhysand and Cassian beside him, the only thing that filled his mind was her face—her voice—her tears as she had looked at him and whispered, You’re my mate.

He would find her.

Or he would burn the entire world to the ground trying.

******

Azriel POV

The clearing was suffocating in its silence, the chaos of battle now replaced by an eerie stillness.

The remnants of battle told a grim story: blood pooled in the center of the clearing, dark and viscous, staining the earth in a sickeningly large patch.

Scattered feathers, black and tattered, lay around the pool, some clumped together, others streaked with red.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat, as his hazel eyes locked on the feathers. His shadows lashed out in panic, coiling around his feet as he staggered forward, his boots splashing in the blood.

His hazel eyes locked on the blood pooled in the center of the clearing. It was everywhere - dark and congealed, soaking the earth in a way that made it impossible to imagine anyone surviving such a loss.

And then Azriel saw it.

The sword.

Her sword.

It lay abandoned in the dirt, the blade stained red. The earth surrounding it was soaked with blood—so much blood—dark and drying in the ash.

Azriel’s breath caught painfully in his chest. His legs faltered, and he dropped to his knees beside the sword. His trembling fingers brushed over the hilt, his shadows curling protectively around it, as if it could somehow shield him from the truth.

Cassian landed heavily beside him, his breath coming in sharp bursts as his gaze swept over the devastation. He cursed softly under his breath, his hazel eyes wide and horrified. “Az…”

Rhysand descended more quietly, his violet eyes dark and calculating as he took in the scene. His posture was tense, his jaw tight, the telltale signs of his control slipping.

Azriel’s hands trembled as he held the hilt of her sword in his hand, his shadows curling and snapping with restless fury. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, the bond between him and Y/n faint and fragile.

It pulsed weakly, like a flicker of light on the verge of going out, and it was tearing him apart.

Rhysand stepped forward, crouching near the blood. He dipped his fingers into it, testing its warmth, before rising to his full height. His face was grim as he looked at the pool, then at Azriel. “She’s lost too much blood,” he said quietly. “I don’t see how anyone could survive this.”

Azriel staggered, the words slamming into him like a physical blow. “No,” he said, his voice trembling. “No, she’s alive. She has to be.”

Cassian frowned, his brows drawing together as he looked between Azriel and Rhysand. “What happened, Az?” he asked, his voice steady but low. “What did you see when you left her?”

Azriel exhaled shakily. “She was fighting them—Hybern’s soldiers,” he said, his voice raw. “There were so many of them. She told me to save Elain, knowing I would not be fly if she didn’t hold them back. So, I did. I picked her up and flew. But before I left…” His voice faltered, his throat tightening as the memory clawed its way to the surface.

“Before you left?” Rhysand pressed, his violet eyes burning with intensity.

Azriel’s breathing was shallow, his chest heaving with the weight of his guilt. “

Cassian stepped closer, his broad frame tense as he placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Az, look at me,” he said firmly. “What happened before you flew away?”

Azriel shook his head, his shadows coiling around him in agitation. “I looked back,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I saw them—ten, maybe more—surrounding her. She was fighting them off, but they overwhelmed her. I saw her fall. I saw them drag her to the ground.”

"And I left her," Azriel said, his voice rising with anguish. "I left her there. She told me to save Elain, but I shouldn't have—I should have stayed." He dropped the hilt of her sword, his hands clutching the blood-streaked earth as his body trembled. "I left her when she finally knew, when she finally... loved me back. And now she's-" His voice broke, and he lowered his head, unable to say the words.

Cassian’s hand tightened on Azriel’s shoulder, his hazel eyes darkening. “And the bond?” he asked carefully.

“It’s faint,” Azriel rasped, his voice breaking. “So faint I can barely feel her. She’s dying, Cassian. And I left her. I—” His words dissolved into a broken sob, his hands clutching the blood-streaked earth, grabbing her bloodied feathers in his hands.

Rhysand crouched beside him, his expression cold but not unkind. “We’ll find her,” he said firmly, his voice like steel. “Do you hear me, Azriel? We’re not giving up on her.”

Azriel lifted his head, his hazel eyes swimming with tears as he looked at Rhysand. “But what if we’re too late?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “What if—”

“Then we make sure they regret ever laying a hand on her,” Rhysand said, his voice dark with promise. “But we don’t give up. Not until we know.”

Cassian straightened, his wings flaring as he glanced at Rhysand. “Then we move quickly,” he said. “But not without a solid plan first.”

Rhysand nodded, his violet eyes blazing as he rose to his full height. “Agreed.”

Azriel forced himself to stand, his legs shaking as he clung to the faint, fragile hum of the bond. The image of her wide, panicked eyes, the way she had whispered “You’re my mate” as the bond snapped. It haunted him, driving him forward even as despair threatened to crush him.

******

Azriel POV

The camp was thick with tension as Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel landed, their wings heavy and their faces etched with grim defeat. Night had fallen, the glow of distant fires casting faint shadows across the ground. Soldiers and members of the Inner Circle glanced their way as they landed, their expectant gazes quickly shifting to concern when they noticed the absence of Y/n.

Tarquin was waiting for them, but his usually composed and regal demeanor was shattered. He stood bloodied, his clothes torn and his face bruised, the aftermath of the battles he had fought to reach the camp. Despite his injuries, his sea-blue eyes blazed with fury and anguish as he stepped forward, his gaze quickly scanning the group.

“Where is my little sister?” Tarquin demanded, his voice raw and cutting through the tense air.

Rhysand stepped forward, his wings folding tightly against his back as he met Tarquin’s enraged gaze. “We couldn’t get to her in time,” he said, his voice low and grim. “Hybern’s forces had already moved out by the time we got back...they took her.”

Tarquin’s expression froze, his bloody face paling for a moment before twisting with rage and grief. He stepped towards Rhysand, his voice rising in a harsh, accusing shout. “You left her? You left her behind?”

“Tarquin—” Rhysand began, his tone steady but tense, but Tarquin cut him off.

“I trusted you!” Tarquin roared, his voice cracking with the force of his fury. “I trusted you to take care of her, Rhysand! And you—”

He turned, his furious gaze landing on Azriel, who stood as still as stone, his face pale and his hazel eyes hollow. “You were supposed to protect her. Where were you when she needed you?”

Azriel didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as his shadows swirled erratically around him, unable to contain the storm inside him. His hands trembled at his sides, clenched into fists, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet Tarquin’s furious gaze.

Tarquin’s voice broke with emotion as he turned back to Rhysand. “Do you know what they’ll do to her? Do you know what they’ll do to our little sister?”

Rhysand’s violet eyes burned as he met Tarquin’s gaze. “We will get her back,” he said firmly, his voice a low promise. “She’s not gone yet.”

“Not gone yet?” Tarquin repeated bitterly, his chest heaving with anger. “Do you understand what Hybern’s army does to their captives? She’s your little sister, Rhysand. She’s my baby sister. And now they have her. She is an Illyrian female AND The sister of two high lords. Do you know what they’ll do to her because of what she is? Because of who she is?”

“I understand the stakes. I understand what’s at risk. And I won’t stop until she’s back.” Rhysand said sharply, his wings flaring slightly as his tone cut through Tarquin’s tirade.

Tarquin’s gaze burned as he stared at Rhysand, his bloody hands trembling as he balled them into fists. After a long moment, he shook his head, his voice dropping into something colder, more threatening. “You’d better find her,” he said, his tone hard and brittle. “Because if you don’t, Rhysand, I won’t stop until I’ve made Hybern, his entire army—and you—pay for her life.”

Rhysand didn’t respond, his gaze unflinching. But for Azriel, Tarquin’s words carved deep into him. He wanted to say something, anything, but the guilt was suffocating. He remained silent, his shadows coiling tighter around him.

He turned and walked away, his shoulders trembling as he sought solitude. Once he was far enough from camp, his knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, his shadows wrapping around him like a shroud. In his shaking hands, he clutched a bloodied black feather, one torn from her wings during the fight. The blood stained his fingers as tears spilled down his face, his shoulders shaking violently.

His mate.

Taken from him.

The one he loved more than anything.

For him, the realization of love came in fits and starts—quiet, elusive moments that lodged in Azriel’s mind long before he acknowledged them for what they truly were.

He remembered the first inkling as a subtle warmth when he caught her in an unguarded moment: Y/n kneeling beside a little boy on the beach in Summer Court. The love in her eyes as she crafted sea creatures from the water, and the little boy squealing and clapping with pure joy. The sunlight wove through her hair, the light shining behind her making her appear ethereal. He’d chalked it up to admiration of her gentleness and beauty at the time, something distant and impersonal.

Then there was the touring of Velaris, not long after her arrival, talking of her mother and her past. The moment she let her guard down and let him in. Let him see the broken parts of her.

There was the first time he sparred with her, and she took down him down easily, pinning him to the ground, teasing him for being distracted. And the stroll down the riverbank, sharing secrets of her training.  The sun’s rays had caught glints of blue in the color of her wings and hair, her eyes dancing with mischief as she told him how she could read his movements before he made them. Azriel had stood beside her, impressed by her knowledge and her fire. She’d turned her head, eyes like the deep ocean, and smiled.

Just that: a small, unburdened smile.

It had felt as if the stars in the heavens overhead had shifted, somehow reorienting the world around that single gesture. He had dismissed the flush of warmth in his veins as simple admiration for her beauty—nothing more.

But those fleeting moments added up. They came to him in the long stretches of silence, drifting through his mind unbidden. The sound of her laugh, low and throaty, as she teased Cassian over some ridiculous jest. The fierce tilt of her chin when she stood her ground against Nesta in an impromptu sparring session—neither truly trying to win, each testing boundaries and learning trust. The gentle way she’d spoken to him late one night in the library, handing him a cup of tea with a quiet question in her eyes, as if ensuring he was well, that he was seen, that he was cared for.

He’d tried to ignore these small, vital signs. He had been fond of others before, after all. He told himself they were just impressions of a new friend, a trusted ally, someone who brought out the best parts of him—the parts he hardly dared believe still existed.

He had resisted the word love, afraid that it would transform all those gentle, stolen moments into something fraught, something demanding.

He was Azriel, the Spymaster.

He did not yearn, did not cling, did not bare his heart to another without fear of losing something vital.

Until today.

The day he lost her.

When he left her behind in Hybern’s clutches to rescue Elain, the magnitude of his feelings slammed into him. The guilt and regret he felt were not simply about failing at a mission or disappointing Rhysand. They cut deeper. They ripped something essential out of his chest, leaving an aching cavity where her presence had always flickered like a secret lantern in the dark.

Grief.

Heartbreak.

He missed her smile, the curve of her wings, the music of her laughter. He yearned for her safety as fiercely as he had ever longed for peace in the shadows of his own soul.

That was the truth he could no longer run from: it wasn’t just fate that tied them together, not merely the Cauldron’s decree that she was his mate.

It was the way her laughter drew him closer like gravity. It was the calm he found in her presence, the sense of being understood, forgiven, and cared for in ways no one else had managed. It was the staggering depth of rage and sorrow he felt now that she was gone, something that demanded he move the earth and sky to bring her back.

He loved her.

The realization settled into him as he watched her hold back soldiers to save him. Save Elain. It didn’t come as a sudden epiphany, but as the final, inevitable truth of all those gentle moments he had collected in his mind. A truth that he spoke as he rescued Elain and vowed to come back for her.

A truth that made him vow, with trembling conviction, that he would do anything—brave any danger, defy any order—to see her safe again. He would tear through every barrier between them to keep her at his side, to show her the tenderness he’d too long withheld, and to spend whatever years fate allowed them proving that he was worthy of the faith she had silently placed in him.

In loving her, he rediscovered some long-lost piece of himself, something he never dared to hope he could have. He realized his love for her had always been there, shimmering in the quiet, stolen glances and soft exchanges. He had simply never dared to name it.

Now, with her absence like a wound, he understood he would never be whole without her by his side.

His shadows curled closer now, as if sensing his torment and trying to comfort him. He would have snarled at them if he had the energy. There was no comfort to be found. He should have done more—been faster, cleverer. He should have risked himself further. If he had reached Y/n first, if he had stood guard over her while fending off those warriors, perhaps he could have coaxed Elain to run, to follow him. Perhaps he would have brought them both out safely.

What good was he if he could not save the one the Mother had chosen for him?

He remembered how he’d vowed silently after he had hurt her by pushing her away, again and again, that if she ever needed him, he would not hesitate.

And yet he had.

He had left her.

Now she was at Hybern’s mercy. Pain spiked like a blade in his chest at the thought of what they might do to her. He closed his eyes, jaw clenched tight, regret souring his mouth.

Azriel swallowed back a bitter taste, resolving that whatever price he had to pay, he would pay it. Whatever danger he had to face, he would face it. He would find her, bring her home, and beg forgiveness that he did not deserve. There would be no rest, no peace in him until he looked into her eyes again and saw understanding and absolution.

For now, there was only silence and guilt, thick as a blade pressed to his throat. He would carry this remorse like a burden, driving him forward into the next dawn, the next battlefield. Until he redeemed himself—or died trying.

Chapter 17

[onlymingyus]

Love Scene (svthub's cupid for you collab) [teaser]

pairing; choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; alcohol, poor knowledge of wine (on my part), pet names, seungcheol is a simp, unprotected sex, manhandling/cheol lifts the reader, mentions of the readers lipstick color (could look different on all skin tones), begging, slight dom!seungcheol, big dick!seungcheol, lingerie kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating, breeding kink, aftercare

w/c; 5.3k (441 this teaser)

a/n; this is part of the svthub cupid for you collab valentine's gift exchange event. my fic is for my valentine @multi-kpop-fanfics. i hope you enjoy this wifey. i had a lot of fun writing cheollie for you. happy valentines day. i love you. thank you to @wongyuseokie and @onlyhuis for proofreading for me! 

this fic will be released wednesday 2/14 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

You smile, leaning your head back against the wall next to your front door, as Seungcheol’s lips press against the column of your throat. He had barely kept his hands to himself the entire drive home, but you weren’t complaining. You were on fire for him, and it would seem the feeling was mutual. 

Groaning against your skin, Seungcheol’s fingers slide along your arm to your wrist, where your fingers are wrapped around a blue jasmine bouquet he had stopped to pick up on the way home. He tried to be careful, dragging your arm up the wall, knowing you were holding the flowers, but he could feel petals hitting his shirt and hear the soft fluttering as they fell to the ground. 

“Cheol…” 

His brows furrowing at the level of need in your voice as you say his name, Seungcheol rakes his teeth against your throat before pulling back to look at your pretty face, leaning in to press his plush lips to yours. Your lips were almost the same color as the wine that he had bought for the two of you to share for the night, and it was driving him crazy. 

You whimper against his lips, and Seungcheol feels his cock starting to stiffen in his pants, causing him to hiss and lean his forehead against yours in an effort to calm himself down. Your free hand was tugging at his dress shirt under his jacket, pulling it from his pants already, but he had two bags in his hand and a plan for the evening before he wanted to have you on his cock. 

“You are so fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

Seungcheol feels your smile against his cheek as he leans to brush his lips against your ear to whisper in your ear. He could feel the chill bumps spreading along your skin. As hard as he was making this for himself, he knew it was just as difficult for you not to beg him  to take you to bed. 

“My forever valentine.” 

Your fingernails almost rip at Seungcheol’s shirt as you feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but his words cause your heart to swell. He was cheesy, and you couldn’t help but smile, but he was making you fall in love with him all over again. 

“I love you too, Cheol. I–can we just..." 

He knew what you were going to ask. Smiling, Seungcheol shakes his head, making you whine as he pulls back from you, only stopping to kiss you gently before taking your free hand and guiding you towards the kitchen. 

“Not yet. Patience, darling.” 

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

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[altocat]

I've always subscribed to the headcanon that if Lucrecia can sense her son's future when he was still in the womb, the same supernatural connection applies to Sephiroth as well.

He WAS sharing the Jenova cells with Lucrecia when he was inside her, hence her physical immortality. So they are linked together in a pseudo-physic manner. It isn't just that Sephiroth desires his mother simply because he was denied her at birth--that's ALREADY pretty horrifying--but also because he constantly senses her, constantly feels her. They were linked together and then suddenly ripped apart. Imagine a constant sensation of incompletion, feeling like you KNOW someone who doesn't exist, the need for Reunion, but you have no idea why it's happening or what it means. A piece of you is missing, a piece of you that is already tainted with anguish and longing and feelings of love and need that you'll never come to know. Something is wrong. And you are all alone. And there is a constant harrowed sensation inside you that reminds you of what was lost...and yet never fully realized.

Whenever Sephiroth's transport airship passes over the region that hosts Lucrecia's cavern, there's always a faint tingle in his chest. A sudden rawness he can't place, tugging at him, burning. He reaches for it, presses his hand to his heart, confused at the sudden slickness in his eyes, the broken ache in his pulse.

By the time he reaches Nibelheim, so close and yet so far away, the ache becomes a crescendo.

[meguwumibear]

cant stop thinking about fake dating monoma....

"You're asking me out?" he laughs. Monoma laughs with his whole body. Mouth. Stomach. Hands. He uses them all as he insults you. "My how the mighty have fallen."

You roll your eyes with an exacerbated sigh. Motherfucker never did listen to much other than the sound of his own voice. Selective hearing. Shinsou tried to warn you. Monoma hears only what he wants to.

"I'm pretending to ask you out, dipshit," you clarify. "To boost our stats."

The plan seemed reasonable enough when you first hatched it. The public loves to stick their upturned noses into the private lives of heroes. The more a hero discloses, the higher their rank. Correlation and causation or whatever-the-fuck your PR team said. You need some press. You need to leak something juicy. Hence, fake dating Monoma. It's foolproof, isn't it? Now that you've actually pitched the thing to the smug bastard, you're not so sure.

"How's dating you gonna boost my stats exactly?" he asks.

"Well, for one I out rank you," you say, eager to throw that in his face. "Hanging around with someone in the top thirty is bound to increase your position. The top spots aren't determined solely by number of saves and take downs. It's a fucking popularity contest, and we're competing for a crown."

"Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm," Monoma hums as he theatrically taps his pointer finger against his chin in faux contemplation. God damn you picked the absolute worst person to fake date. Should've gone with the perverted grape guy instead. Little fucker probably would've jumped at the opportunity to call himself your boyfriend.

"I don't have all day, Monoma," you say. "You in or you out?"

He flashes you a disgustingly cheeky grin. The smile is all teeth and absent of any semblance of sincerity.

"Oh, I suppose I could be swayed," he relents. "If.......," a pregnant pause for dramatic effect. Typical, "the fake girlfriend package comes with real girlfriend privileges."

You raise an inquiring eyebrow at him. If the smarmy git wants sex he can ask for it like the grown ass man he is instead of alluding to it like some high school brat.

"I am of course referring to sexual intercourse," he oh-so helpfully clarifies. "Including, but not limited to-"

"Yeah, yeah," you say with a wave of your hand to shut him up. If you have to listen to the end of that sentence you might end up punting him off the roof. "Whatever you want."

Monoma's eyebrows disappear behind his poorly styled emo bangs that he never aged out of. "Whatever I want?" he parrots. "God, you're just as desperate as the rest of them without the numbers to back you up. Think the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight would result to such petty tricks?"

"Yes or no, Monoma," you huff, pressing at your temples to stem an impending tidal wave of a headache. "If you're above this maybe I'll ask the Great Explosion Murder God himself."

Monoma's eyes darken at that, despite the fact that he only has himself to blame for putting the idea in your head.

To his credit, Monoma collects himself quickly and shoves his phone in your hands.

"Number and addy," he says. "I'm staying with Kendo so my place is OOTQ for R-rated content. I'll swing by yours after my patrol tonight for a trial run. I'm guessing you can afford to live alone. based on your rank, number thirty."

"What fucking trial run?" you ask as you add your contact to his phone. You throw in a red heart emoji too, before replacing it with a peach, tongue, and water emoji instead. The pretend relationship needs to look real and there's no way in hell Monoma's the romantic type.

He smirks as he snatches his phone back from you.

"Figure I'm entitled to a seven day free trial before I actually subscribe. It's just good costumer service. Even that prick Bezo's knows it. Don't tell me the aspiring number one hero has less ethics than that capitalistic pig?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," you spit. "Fine. What the hell. Not like I want to be stuck fucking you if your dick game's mid. Swing by tonight. Bring your tiny cock and that bratty attitude of yours. Might be nice to fuck it out of you."

Monoma's grin is borderline predatory. His mouth is open wide enough to expose the sharp tips of his teeth again, and they look like they're just itching to bite. He leans over the table to whisper his next few words in your ear.

"My dick's not tiny," he says, before excusing himself. Then, as he turns to leave, "And I won't be the one getting the brat fucked out of them tonight. See you soon, love."

He disappears around the corner with one last wave of his hand, and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck you've just gotten yourself into.

[roseheart-laceheart]

💜 — dark cardiophilia: a "knife" pressed against my heart"

— PPV preview: Listen as my heart races further and further as I imagine you pushing a knife against my heart, the thrill of a danger making me breath heavier and my heart race further.

— The full version is now being sent this very second into your inbox.

— Every new subscriber gets a free picture at purchase! 💜

[nadvs]

cam girl (part six)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t remember falling asleep. That’s how exhausted you were from your time with Rafe.

As you slowly slip into consciousness, your body feels loose and buzzing. Your core is trembling and you slowly catch on that you were having an erotic dream about him.

Your eyes flutter open, realizing your sex dream isn’t a dream at all. Rafe’s head is moving under your white comforter between your legs, his warm tongue flattening against your clit.

Your fatigued mind puts it together. He spent the night. He held you as you slept. And now he’s eating you out.

“Oh, fuck,” you chuckle breathily, writhing. “Oh, my God.”

“Finally,” he mutters beneath the cover, taking his mouth off of you to speak. His warm breath spreads over your pussy. “I can’t feel my fucking jaw anymore.”

You’re still in your big t-shirt, but you realize he took your panties off.

“Rafe,” you whine, feeling dizzy. Is he seriously waking you up with head? Holy shit.

“You always such a deep sleeper?” he grumbles. He dips to use his tongue on you again, circles swirling over you. His arms are hooked around your legs, large hands splayed on your inner thighs.

“Hmm?” you mumble, lost in the way he’s tonguing you. His mouth closes around your clit, then he pulls back to talk again.

“Do you always sleep so fucking deeply?” he repeats, his tone stern. His morning voice is raspy and deep and so hot that it’s painful.

“Only when I get really good dick the night before,” you say. You can’t help but take the opportunity to mess with him. “So, it’s weird I didn’t wake up right away.”

Rafe stiffens, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls his mouth off of you.

“I’m joking,” you laugh. You pull the cover up to see his face between your legs. God, he looks so fucking cute, his expression completely unimpressed. “Please keep going, baby.”

“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me-“

“Rafe,” you giggle. “I promise, you’re the best I’ve had. Please keep going.”

“The best?” he echoes, eager for you to stroke his ego.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better orgasm than the one you gave me last night,” you say, totally honest.

“Huh. Maybe that should be the last one I give you if you’re gonna be such a brat.”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the thought of ending whatever this is with Rafe makes your heart pinch with sadness.

“What then?” Rafe challenges.

“Then I’ll swear off dick forever,” you reply.

You’re pleased when you see his eyes crinkle as he laughs, the sound so sweet. It’s different than the lust-filled, teasing chuckle you hear when you’re fucking. This one is innocent. Genuine.

“Say sorry for joking like that,” he orders you.

“Sorry, baby,” you smile.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffs, amused. You keep the cover lifted to watch him put his mouth on you again.

You spread your legs further apart, arching your back as he tongues you, reaching every dip between your folds.

You put a hand in Rafe’s hair, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers as his head moves slowly.

He’s absolutely devouring you. It’s unlike his usual speed and roughness. He’s savoring this.

You keep your gaze on him, euphoria filling every curve of your body. He tilts slightly to meet your gaze, blue eyes locked on you as he laps at you, long and slow.

His nose presses against your groin, the sound of him sucking you filling your bedroom. You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, realizing this is the gentlest, most affectionate thing you’ve done to him.

You dart your gaze to the ceiling. You’re taken aback at your own tender gesture. Why you touching him like this? Like he’s someone you’re dating instead of casually fucking?

Because he cuddled you to sleep last night. That must be it. His big, warm, bare chest was pressed against your back, arms encircling you, legs tangled together as you dozed off. He acted like a boyfriend and not the fuck buddy he is. Your body is just confused, you tell yourself.

You shut your eyes and focus on the way his mouth is suckling and working you, sending waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.

“You’re really good at that,” you breathe, almost wishing you wouldn’t cum so he’d do this for hours.

“I know, baby,” Rafe murmurs.

You know he’s being his usual cocky self, but the fact that he’s so skilled should serve as a reminder. He’s experienced. He fucks around. He wants to own you, but he never said anything about you owning him.

This is just fun, you tell yourself. Just fun with a nice monetary reward.

His lips lock on your clit, sucking harder. As his finger slowly sinks into you, tingles go up your legs.

“Rafe,” you breathe, bucking your hips.

“You like that?” he encourages. “My good fucking girl.”

The hand on your thigh grips you tighter as he adds a finger, curling into your pussy and pushing in and out of you.

The next time his mouth circles your clit, you know you’re close.

“Like that, like that,” you whimper.

“You gonna cum for me?” he teases. “You’re clenching around my fingers.”

He sucks your clit hard again and the climax rips through you. You feel yourself twitching as you cum on his mouth.

Rafe groans against you, licking and sucking until you’re so overstimulated that you have to squeeze your thighs and wiggle free.

“Can’t take how good it feels?” he asks, provoking.

“Fuck,” you laugh. You press your palms against your forehead, throwing your head back and breathing deeply. What a way to wake up.

“Get on your stomach,” he instructs. He sits up, the blanket falling off of him. He’s wearing what he fell asleep in: nothing but his briefs, his bulge jutting out beneath the fabric.

You find the strength to turn onto your front, the movement making you realize how sore your ass is from the way he pounded into it last night.

Your cheek is pressed against your pillow and his cock slides in through the valley where the backs of your thighs meet, pushing into your cunt. You inhale in unison at the sensation.

“Fuck, it’s like you…” Rafe rasps. “Like you were fucking made for me. So fucking perfect.”

You arch your back so that he can get inside as deep as possible.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but build into rough, sloppy thrusts, making your bed squeak.

The way Rafe fills you feels so damn good. If he wanted to spend all day in your bed, fucking you over and over again, you’d happily agree to it.

Rafe’s breaths get faster, his groans get deeper, and he empties himself inside of you with a shudder, his hand squeezing your hip so hard that it hurts.

You’re bruised there from last night, you realize.

You never like the feeling of him leaving your body, and thankfully, he doesn’t do it just yet. Rafe simply lays on top of you, shifting a bit to the side so he’s not putting all of his weight on you.

His cheek is pressed against your shoulder blade. His hand on top of yours is directly at your eye-line as you rest on your pillow. You love those hands.

It’s Monday. You have class. You have to be a functioning person today. You don’t remember setting your alarm last night and you have no idea what time it is.

But you just started your morning by getting eaten out and fucked and Rafe’s warm, large body is shielding yours, so the idea of getting out of bed isn’t appealing in the slightest.

He’s still inside you.

You think back to last night, the way he fucked you from behind, how big his fingers around your neck and inside you were and how hard he slapped your ass.

“What’d I do to deserve you spanking me last night?” you ask.

“Poor baby,” he mocks. “Is your ass hurting? Need me to rub it?”

You feel him shift behind you, his hand sliding off of yours, palm going down your back and over the curve of your ass.

In the movement, his softening cock starts to slide out of you. You involuntarily let out a small, unhappy cry.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Why are you whining?”

“Just… don’t like the feeling of you pulling out,” you admit.

“Oh, my God, so needy,” he jeers. “Wish you could have my dick in you all day, huh?”

You don’t deny it.

To your pleasure, Rafe lies back down, pushing the rest of himself into you again.

“You deserved getting spanked because you drive me fucking crazy,” he drawls. His hand rubs big circles on your naked ass.

“It’s not my fault you want me so bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” he mutters.

You finally find the will to pick your phone up from the nightstand.

You see that you’ll need to leave your place soon if you want to make it to your first class. But you’ll make it as long as your shower is quick.

You open your text conversation with Rafe, holding your phone low so he can’t see what you’re doing.

“Might wanna check your phone,” you say quietly.

You don’t want him to pull out of you, but it’s inevitable. He gets up with a grunt, making you feel incomplete without him inside you. You look over your shoulder when he’s lying down again, phone held out.

The phone looks so small in his hand. God, when did a man’s hands have such an effect on you?

Rafe smirks at his screen, turning it towards you.

“Watch this,” he says. You see the $50 request you just sent him, your text “for spanking me” right below it. He taps his thumb on ‘Reject.’

“You asshole,” you laugh. Then the top of the screen catches your eye. He has you saved as ‘princess’ and the contact photo is the booty pic you sent him yesterday.

“Rafe, that is unhinged,” you say, pointing to the photo. “You have to be joking. What if someone sees that picture?”

“Lucky them.”

You can’t help but laugh. At least this reminds you of what you are to him: a piece of ass. You officially push away the hope that you’re anything more. And a part of you even wishes he doesn’t do something sweet like staying overnight to keep you warm again. If he continues playing his horny sugar daddy role, and does no boyfriend shit like that again, the hope can never come back.

It’s better to be realistic.

“I have to go,” you complain, pushing yourself up. You turn to sit, your feet touching your floor, stretching your arms above your head, with your back to Rafe.

“Don’t do too much today,” he says. You turn, watching him pull his underwear on.

“What are you planning to do to me this time?”

He turns his lean frame to look down at you, his tongue jutting under his cheek in a way you can only describe as utterly mischievous.

“I’m gonna try to make you squirt.”

Your cheeks flood with warmth. This man is going to destroy you.

“’I’ve never done that before,” you say.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t.” Rafe hikes up his jeans and collects his shirt off the floor. “And if any guy can do it for you, it’s the one with the best cock you’ve ever had.”

“I regret telling you that,” you tease.

He bends over your small bed, pressing his palm to your cheek. His eyes travel over your face, smirking, looking like he’s imagining all the things he’s going to do tonight.

“See you tonight, princess.”

He leaves, and you’re still trying to catch your breath.

Your day of classes is tiring, your body still sore and reeling from Rafe having his way with you. You barely make it home for the maintenance guys to fix your radiator.

You sit in your kitchen, trying to study as they clang their tools and talk to each other in your bedroom.

It takes them two hours, finishing up in the evening. After they leave, you savor in the feeling of a warm room, Rafe’s money having solved one of your most expensive problems. It’s so simple, but so nice.

You lie in your bed just to rest your eyes.

You’re suddenly startled awake. Your room is pitch black and a slamming on your front door makes your heart pound in your chest.

You sit up, trying to gauge your surroundings. You check your phone to see it’s half past ten and you have three missed calls and a string of texts from Rafe.

Another sequence of pounds on the front door erupts. It must be him.

You rush to your front door and look through the peephole to confirm it’s Rafe, his jaw clenched in anger. You missed your nightly appointment. He seems pissed. Excitement bubbles inside you.

You crack open the door, meeting his eyes. He shakes his head at you, nostrils flared, and he pushes his way into your dark apartment.

Rafe slams the door behind him, hand roughly grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together, your lips jutting out.

“Where the hell were you?” he demands, looking down at you.

“Fell asleep?” you say weakly. He’s fuming - he likes to feel like he owns you and today, his personal pornstar didn’t obey him.

“I pay you to get in front of that camera on time.”

“You’re mad,” you tease, a smile uncontrollably growing on your lips. “Are you gonna punish me?”

Rafe tightens his grip on your face and you rest your hands on his firm forearms, feeling him pull up, beckoning you onto the tips of your toes. You’re already soaked.

“I’m going to fuck you in every hole,” he mutters, “and you’re fucking dreaming if you think you’re cumming tonight.”

“What?” you plead. “You said tonight, we’d try-“

“You think you deserve that?” he interrupts. He releases you, pushing you back. “Get in your fucking room. Go.”

You obey, feeling Rafe’s hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you into the space. He turns the light on behind you, surely wanting to see every inch of you while he makes you pay for flaking on him.

You hear his belt unbuckling behind you and he presses up against you, his cock hard between your asscheeks.

“Get naked,” he instructs. You bend to pull down your pants, take off your top, and strip entirely bare.

Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, palming himself over his briefs, his eyes locked on yours.

“Crawl to me,” he says. You drop to your knees, obeying him, stopping once your head is between his legs. He pulls his briefs down, his cock swollen.

You don’t need him to tell you the next instruction. You eagerly put your hand at his base and your mouth over his tip, spitting on the head.

“Yeah, get it really fucking wet,” he mutters. “You’re gonna choke on it.”

He groans when you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowing. You imagine him sitting on his bed tonight, waiting for you to log in, his dick hard and getting no attention, growing angry when you weren’t showing up.

You’ve never felt so craved by somebody before.

Rafe puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you down to take all of him, hitting the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex.

“That’s what you fucking get,” he tells you. You look up at him, eyes trailing up his toned stomach and up to his face. He looks so pissed off and so horny all at the same time. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Do I have to do it myself?” he scoffs, tugging at your roots and pulling you back.

“No, I can do it,” you say, muffled against his cock. You push back down, taking him all in, back curling as you gag on his slick length.

You grip him and start bobbing, moving your fingers off every time you reach his base, lips flanged around him.

“Faster,” he orders. You pick up your pace, spit dribbling out of your mouth, prompting you to slurp up the mix of saliva and precum.

“Fuck…” he groans. He pulls you off his dick, your lips popping off him. “Suck on my balls.”

You hungrily push his cock up, digging your head between his legs to put your mouth on his soft flesh, slurping.

“Shit,” he breathes out of pleasure. You feel proud of yourself for making him forget how angry he was so quickly.

Until you realize it wasn’t that easy.

His hand frames your face again, pads of his fingers digging into your cheeks, stopping you.

“On your back,” he says. “Right there, on the floor.”

You’re trembling as you shift back, laying on the hard floor, spreading your legs for him. He gets down to hover over you, his cock in his hand.

Rafe taunts you, bouncing the tip against your clit. Your body jolts at the feeling.

“You’re not gonna cum,” he warns you. “I know how this pussy feels when you’re close and I’ll stop.”

“Rafe,” you beg. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I swear, I-”

He plunges into you, cutting you off, his hips immediately hitting yours as he bottoms out. You throw your head back as he tears into you, his girth forcing you apart.

He thrusts hard and fast, fully rage-fucking you, taking his anger out with every move, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done to you.

“You want me to call you a good girl, don’t you?” he asks.

“I am a good girl,” you shudder, knowing it’s not true, saying it only so he’ll fuck you harder.

“No, you’re fucking not,” he laughs. You look down to see the way his cock is disappearing into you over and over again.

The tension in your gut is coiling tighter. You try not to make it obvious that you’re close to cumming, keeping your eyes low. But your body betrays you. The second your walls start to flutter around him, he pulls out.

“You’re not cumming,” he says. “I already fucking told you.”

This is not the Rafe who cuddled you to sleep last night. This side of him, the insatiable, animalistic side, is simple and only wants one thing. It’s so intoxicating being used by him.

“Ass up,” he says. You know he’s about to fulfill his promise of fucking you three different ways and you can’t wait.

You’re shaking as you spread your knees as much as you can, waiting on all fours, feeling his thumb pad rub up and down over your asshole.

“Can you take it without the lube?” Rafe asks.

This is the bullshit that makes you worry you’ll start liking him. Why can’t he just fuck you how he wants without worrying that he’ll hurt you? It’d be so much easier to not like him if he was cruel and selfish all the time.

“Do it,” you whisper depravedly, frustrated that your thoughts are getting carried away.

He pushes into your asshole, making you cry out in discomfort. The pressure stings as he fills you and you instinctually dart forward, your body trying to prevent any more pain.

“It’s hurting you,” he realizes, quickly pulling out.

“Rafe, just keep going,” you say, looking down at the floor. “Please.”

He buries into you again and you bite your lip hard. He starts to pound into you, balls hitting your pussy, hands gripping your hips.

You let out guttural moans with every pump, praying it’ll end, yet at the time, wishing he won’t cum for another hour. It’s such a good hurt.

Your elbows weaken and you collapse, pressing your forearms onto the hard floor. Your knees are burning in pain, your asshole strained, and tears start to leak out of your eyes as he thrashes mercilessly.

Rafe’s cock starts to spasm inside you, and after one last powerful thrust, you feel his hot, sticky cum flood you. His groan is the deepest, sexiest noise you’ve ever heard from him.

He trembles through some aftershocks, like he wants to give you every drop, then pulls out of you. You go limp, eyes shut, lids against your forearm.

You’re panting hard, sweat sheening your skin, and drop to your side, completely fucked out.

You feel his cum drip down the curve of your ass.

“Get up,” he says. You can’t.

Suddenly, his hands cup your waist, pulling you up.

“Come on,” Rafe says quietly. “Get up.”

You find your footing and he guides you to your bed. You’re a trembling mess as you lie down, curling onto your side, eyes closed, tears hot.

You can’t control the sniffle that shakes through you.

“Whoa, you’re…” he whispers.

You open your eyes to see him sitting over you, his face flushed. You find the strength to pull the comforter up to your eyes, hiding them as you nuzzle into your pillow.

“Hey,” he half-whispers. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just tired,” you say with a defeated laugh.

The room is quiet until you feel the mattress shift, its springs squeaking. Rafe settles behind you and you’re cold for a moment as he lifts the sheet off you. But then it’s on you again, his body curving around you, the comforter covering both of you.

You feel his hand come down your waist, your stomach, your thighs. He starts to gently rub between your legs.

He already told you that he wouldn’t let you orgasm, so you know he’s doing this to continue the torment.

Still, you shift onto your back, spreading your legs open for him, eyes closed as you breathe through the sensation of the pads of his fingers spreading your lips apart to fondle your clit.

You feel Rafe move over you, holding one of your breasts to close his mouth around your nipple. You shudder at the bliss he’s offering you, even though you’re painfully aware that he won’t let you reach your peak.

His fingers move expertly while his tongue flicks up and down and side to side, covering your nipple with his spit.

The stimulation of both his hand and his mouth makes the tightening in your stomach come quickly, and as you arch your back and start to breathe shallower, you’re surprised that his hand moves faster and his mouth sucks harder.

You moan as the orgasm hits you and he rubs you throughout the entire climax. Once you let out a final sigh, you open your eyes.

Rafe’s head rests on the pillow when he comes back up. He’s looking at you with half-closed lids, lying beside you.

“I thought…” you say, a smile pulling on your lips. He knows what you mean. You thought he wasn’t going to let you cum.

“Changed my mind.”

You know you’re not in the right headspace when you wonder if he did that out of guilt for fucking you so hard that he made you cry. That that was his special way of apologizing. But this is Rafe. It can’t be that. He’s simply enjoying keeping you in his control.

“I might miss our sessions more often if this is what happens,” you say breathily.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“I’ve never seen someone so angry,” you tease.

Rafe turns his head, looking up at the ceiling. You see his jaw tighten, clearly recalling how pissed off he was at you.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said.

“I was right here in my freaking bed, Rafe,” you laugh. “Dead asleep.”

“No, it’s…” His brows furrow. “Some guys came to fix the heat today, right? And you were here all alone and…”

Realization hits you all at once.

“You were… worried they did something to me?” you ask. “And that’s why I didn’t show up?”

Rafe just shakes his head in disbelief again, mouth firming. You watch him in awe. Was that what got him so worked up?

You picture him at home, getting angrier with every minute you were late, and then the possibility of something like that happening to you suddenly popping in his mind, making him go batshit.

“Rafe,” you say with a small smile, genuinely endeared he was concerned about you.

He sits up, looking at you with an angry grimace.

“Why the fuck are you acting like it’s funny?” he snaps.

“I’m not,” you say softly. “I’m-”

“Next time you say you’re gonna be somewhere, be there,” he states coldly.

You feel like you have whiplash. You were just having fun with him. Now that you brought up why he came over in such a frenzy, he’s pissed off again?

Rafe stands, giving you a view of his naked body as he rounds your bed and picks up his briefs. He doesn’t make eye contact with you when he pulls his jeans on or puts on his shirt.

He doesn’t say a word as he storms out of your room. You simply hear your front door open and shut.

You’re left lying in bed, jarred over what just happened.

Working at the Cameron household, you caught little glimpses of the family’s home life and have heard your fair share of Rafe’s yelling. You knew he had a temper to him. But the way he just left, mood shifting so suddenly, is still shocking.

You don’t hear from Rafe the rest of the night. Or the next morning. Or afternoon. You’re not sure if he’s giving you the silent treatment or simply doesn’t feel the need to talk to you unless you’re fucking or you have a camera facing your half-naked body.

You sit on your bed at 10 pm, laptop open, unsure if he’ll even show up tonight. And if he doesn’t, what’s it going to be like when you go to your shift at the estate tomorrow?

But then you hear the familiar chime.

figure8 has joined the session.

“Hi,” you say, breaking the silence in your bedroom. “You still mad at me, baby?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” you purr, pouting. You sit up, pulling your panties up tight, making sure he sees the outline of your lips under the silk. “Are we gonna try to make me squirt or no? I’m gonna need your help.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8: stay just like that. im coming over

{ read part seven here }

[harrysfolklore]

Okay I fucking love Priyanka Chopra and I want her to be the face claim of one of your insta blurbs 🥺 maybe older y/n? (the one you were recently talking about)

two things i miss: dadrry and tour, so this came naturally. enjoy !

SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON lots of more writing there

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by harrystyles, jessicachastain and 2,306,001 others

yourinstagram Daddy took the pic (and also picked the outfit) 🤍

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ynfan1 AWEEEEE

harryfan1 this is so damn cute

selenagomez ❤️

annetwist My cuties 💗

ynfan2 malti is so adorableeee i could cry

harryfan2 smh i still can’t believe harry is a DAD

harrystyles Fashion icon x

↳ harryfan3 PLEASEEEE

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harryupdates Harry, YN and little Malti out in New York today 🥹

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harryfan1 HAPPY FAMILY

harryfan2 SO CUTE

ynfan1 malti casually saying hi to the paps she’s an icon

ynfan2 she’s such an extrovert kid i love her

liked by harrystyles, taylorswift and 2,927,628 others

yourinstagram Getting glammed up for the final LA show 🕺#LoveOnTour

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ynfan1 MY HEARTTT

harryfan1 this is so cute i can’t take it

pillowpersonpp ❤️

ynfan2 MALTI’S FIRST SHOW WAIT

arianagrande excuse me i’m melting 🥲

harryfan2 AHHH

harrystyles Love you both so much.

↳ harryfan3 my god i live dadrry so much

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ynupdates Malti saying hi to HER fans tonight !

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ynfan1 STOOOOP

harryfan1 SHES SO ADORABLE

ynfan2 this is the first time little malti attends one of harry’s shows and she looks like she’s having the time of her life 😭

harryfan2 that’s definitely harry’s kid

ynfan3 i love this family so bad

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harryupdates HARRY NOTICING MALTI IN THE CROWD TONIGHT 🥺🥺🥺

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harryfan1 MY HEART

ynfan1 I CANT DO THIS

harryfan2 he’s smiling so big oh my god dadrry

ynfan2 malti kept dancing and waving to everyone and having fun she’s the coolest kid ever

harryfan3 GIRL DAD 😭

//

"This is a very very special show," Harry said as he stood by his mic stand, "It's not only the last show here at LA, but it is also my daughter's first concert ever," at this, the crowd roared in screams and cheers, "She's right over there with her mum," he pointed at the VIP box of the arena, just to realize that no one was there, "Wait, she's not there, did she get bored of the show already?"

As the crowd laughed at his joke, he scanned the crowd again looking for his wife and daughter, only to spot them at the front of the barricade, his little girl waving at him frantically.

"There she is!" he cheerfully said, a huge smile appearing on his face, "Hi baby, I see you. Are you enjoying the show?" he got closer to them, bending down to press a small kiss on the girl's head, "Oh no! You can't take that, daddy needs that to sing," he said when he realized that the baby was grabbing his mic, trying to take it from him, "I guess she loves the stage already."

The crowd went absolutely crazy over the interaction, recording it and taking pictures that would make the internet go crazy too.

//

liked by harryfan2, ynfan2 and 16,927 others

harryandyn THIS IS SO ADORABLE SHE JUST WANTED THE MIC

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harryfan1 AHH

ynfan1 she’s just like harry

harryfan2 DADRRY IS THE BEST THING THAT HAPPENED TO US

ynfan2 MY HEART

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Los Angeles XV. January, 2023

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harryfan1 NOO I CANT

annetwist ❤️❤️❤️

jefezoff Little rockstar

ynfan1 cutest picture ever

harris_reed Little angel princess 💗

harryfan2 A DAD

yourinstagram The best daddy in the world 🤍

harryfan3 this just added 912628 years into my life

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains s @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk k @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry