#allusions of smut

[delugyu]

okay, i relent, here’s part two for the beomgyu drabble, you insatiable freaks!!!!

(wc: 3.2k / warnings: absolutely no jealousy anywhere at all, beomgyu being mega pathetic, oral (m rec.), masturbation, virgin!reader, okay maybe a smidge of jealousy)

beomgyu can’t lie and say that he didn’t jump a little when he got your text. who knew that a simple can i come over? would be enough to stir his cock to life. he’s thought about you every day this week with his hand shoved down his pants, playing back the memories over and over again of kissing you and having you touch him. you’ve become the fog inside his brain, haunting him and keeping him from ever being normal.

his legs bounce in anxiety and impatience as he waits for you. if it didn’t make him look like a pathetic bitch, he’d be kneeling by the front door, ready to tend to you from the moment you come in. you wouldn’t even be able to get two steps into his place before his head would be between your thighs.

he waits on his bed instead, still trying to convince himself he’s tougher than he is. he feels the way he jitters though—he’s not fooling himself. his body reacts before his brain does when he hears his apartment door open. he tenses and swipes his phone into his hands, so when you open the door he doesn’t look like he’s been sitting here waiting.

his eyes dart to you the second you’re entering his room. he’s never seen you in a skirt this short before. are you doing this on purpose? did you want to make him snap? your perfume fills the air, that sweet and warm fragrance that suddenly has beomgyu feeling like some dog.

“hi,” you say, closing the door behind you and standing politely by his bed. beomgyu shuts his phone off to give you his full attention—you already had it anyway, but he just wanted to look cool. he smiles at you and makes room for you on the bed, patting the space next to him.

“what’s up?” his eyes linger on your skirt as you situate yourself on the bed. the expanse of your thighs start looking like uncharted territory for him to mark up. his gaze returns to your face once he realizes how pervy he must look, not wanting to look like some freak.

“not much,” you answer. you look away from him, and he thinks maybe he was staring too hard.

“no? what brings you here then?” he can’t hide his grin, he just thinks it’s so cute when you try to hide your motives. you both know why you’re here.

you look at him with a bit of surprise when his hand falls on your thigh. it’s at a respectable distance from your core—it’s really not even close enough to seem raunchy—but it’s still enough to have you looking all scandalized. beomgyu bites his tongue to hold back a laugh; he doesn’t want to be mean and embarrass you.

“i wanted some advice,” you say, shifting a bit in place.

beomgyu raises a brow. “advice?” you nod. “on what?” he asks.

you hesitate for a second. “taehyun,” you answer. beomgyu has to fight the immature instinct to roll his eyes. he takes his hand off your thigh, and he tells himself that it’s definitely not because he’s bitter.

“okay. what about him?” it’s not jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach. he doesn't care that you’re thinking of taehyun when you’re sitting right next to him. he hopes taehyun’s the best fucking thing in your life, that he’ll want you even half as much as beomgyu does.

so no, it’s not jealousy. beomgyu’s perfectly content with only getting secret, stolen moments with you, while taehyun gets to flaunt you on his arm like some accessory anywhere he wants.

“i was wondering, how do you give a blowjob?” your question cuts through him like a knife. you want to give taehyun a blowjob?!

he hates how his dick strains in his pants when you say that. he’s been hard before you even got here. he spent his nights fisting his cock, milking himself dry thinking about you, and here you are doing all this for some other guy.

your eyes hold all the brightness they always do, and it works to at least melt him enough to get over himself. he gives you a smile and leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “i’ll show you. get on the floor for me, okay?” he brushes your hair back with a considerate hand, then gives you one more lingering kiss.

watching you kneel before him makes beomgyu feel feral. he has to stop himself from whipping out his cock now and using your pretty mouth like some toy. he stands in front of you, looking down at you with a grin. he pats your head, thinking that you look so adorable when you look up at him like this.

he thinks he could cum just from this—you kneeling in front of him, listening to him so well—it makes him ache. you’re so eager, so willing, so trusting. he wonders if you’d still trust him if you knew all the things he wants to do with you. would you still let him teach you everything if you knew he wanted to take you in front of taehyun, make him listen to you moan out beomgyu’s name? or how he wants to steal your panties and shoot load after load into them, using them until he’s spent and the lacy material is useless?

your fingers linger at the hem of his sweatpants, blinking up at him for permission. he’s not sure why it makes his heart skip a beat—he’s kind of more focused on the way it makes his cock jump.

“you can take them off,” he says, watching as you slide his sweatpants down. he tries not to get too heady or let some power rush get to him, but it’s a hard task when you look so perfectly usable right now. he hisses when you lay your hand over his erection, still confined by his boxers. he rakes his fingers through your hair and smiles down at you.

you peel his boxers off slowly, and beomgyu might’ve thought you were teasing him if he didn’t know you’re a virgin. he wonders if you’re nervous. you’ve never sucked a dick before, so he knows not to expect you to be a pro. he’s honored enough to be the one who gets to teach you this.

you bring a hand to his cock when it springs free, just holding it and staring at it for some time. you take a deep breath like you’re stressed and preparing yourself.

“you okay?” beomgyu asks, searching your eyes for any discomfort. you send him a small smile.

“sorry, i’m still getting ready,” you say. you jerk him a little, letting your thumb spread the precum at his tip. it makes him groan and throw his head back. where the hell did you learn that?

“take your time, we’ll go at your pace,” beomgyu says, keeping his voice as still as he can, focusing hard to not stutter or trip over his words. you continue to slowly stroke him, and it’s taking all of beomgyu’s self control to not push his hips forward and fuck your fist as he pleases.

your lips are in a pout now, and beomgyu suppresses the urge to coo at you. “what’s wrong?” he asks, looking down at you with pitiful eyes. you look like you’re deep in contemplation.

“i don’t know if it will fit,” you say as you stare at his cock. it kills beomgyu how you don’t know what your words do to him, unless you register the way his dick twitches in your hand.

“just take what you can,” he says, running a hand down your face and brushing your cheek with his thumb. he really, really wants to feel your mouth around him, but he’ll let you do that when you’re ready. he reminds himself over and over again to not go too far, no matter how bad he wants to use you like his own little doll.

you shift closer to him, face right by his tip now, and it makes beomgyu bite his lip in anticipation. he nearly feels his legs shaking. fuck, he’s been thinking about this all week, he needed this for so long.

“y-you can start with just licking, if you want,” beomgyu offers. your tongue meets his tip the next second, swirling around it and making him whine. holy shit. he bites his tongue until he almost tastes blood. that was so embarrassing. he needs to keep his cool.

you hold up his dick by the base to lick a stripe down his shaft, looking up at him for approval. god, beomgyu wishes he was sitting down. he feels weak in the knees.

“doing so good, keep going,” beomgyu praises, stomach clenched tight at the pleasure. he won’t be able to last if you put your mouth around him. he almost hopes you save that for another day, when he actually has enough willpower to not cum immediately from it.

you run your tongue back up to his tip, pressing kitten licks to his slit. his fist tightens in your hair, needing to grip onto something and keep his legs from giving in. not even biting his lip can hold back his moans when you just barely wrap your lips around his tip, sucking experimentally.

“t-take it slow, baby,” he says, moreso for his sake than yours. he’ll be blowing his load in an embarrassingly short amount of time if you keep this up. he swears he’s not a minute man usually, he doesn’t know why he keeps making himself look like one with you.

you go back to licking his cock, looking so delicious that beomgyu’s having trouble keeping his eyes on you without his balls tightening. he wonders if your panties are slick with your arousal, if they’re sticking to your folds, if he’d see a nice wet outline your pussy if he just pushed your skirt a little higher. he’s feeling dizzy at the thought.

you make matters worse when your mouth envelops his cock again, going down a little further this time. “fuck!” he moans out, fist returning to your hair. he’s almost shaking from how hard he’s holding back. you pull back after a few seconds to catch your breath, granting him enough of a reprieve to collect himself.

you continue to take him just a little further each time, but never quite getting that far. he doesn’t even want to give you advice, too scared of cumming and having this all be over with. he’ll let you figure it out; you seem really receptive to what makes him moan and shake anyway.

when you pull off again, a string of saliva connects his tip to your lips. it’s so crude and dirty—he burns the image into his mind to use for later. your hand works over his cock, spreading your saliva down to the base so it’s all slick.

“how is it?” you ask, seeking his approval yet again. something about it makes beomgyu feel insane.

“perfect,” he says breathlessly, appreciating the winning smile that spreads across your face at that. you place a cute little kiss at his slit, making beomgyu swoon.

you return your lips around him, getting almost halfway down now. your mouth is so wet and warm around him, and he thinks you might’ve been made for him. you’re learning so well, doing everything just right. you’re so good—too good to let go, too good to let run back to taehyun.

you moan around his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver down beomgyu’s spine. his brain stops working completely when he sees your hand move between your legs, rubbing your fingers against your clothed pussy for some relief. his grip on your hair tightens, and his hips jolt forward to thrust further into your mouth. he assesses you to make sure you’re okay before he keeps going, letting himself fuck into your welcoming little mouth. he can be selfish this one time.

“shit—suck a little harder, baby,” he says, panting as he continues fucking into you. the extra suction almost makes his knees buckle. watching your fingers circle desperately and clumsily against your clit is making him spiral; he thinks about pulling you up and showing you how it’s done. your pussy must be aching so bad for him.

your tongue swirls against his tip, and he cums before he can stop himself. his hips buck further into your mouth as he lets out a moan, cock twitching as he feels himself hit the back of your throat. he knows he should pull back and let you breathe, but he’s out of his mind and barely thinking straight.

“fuck, take it, god, you’re so good,” he rambles as he soothes his hand through your hair. you look up at him with watery eyes, and he can’t believe how good you’re being for him. for being a virgin, you really do make for a pretty little slut.

once he’s emptied, he pulls out, catching his breath and staring at your fucked out face. you remove your hands from between your thighs, suddenly looking all shy.

“why’d you stop?” he asks, urging your thighs back open with his foot. he has enough decency to not drop to the floor and stare at the junction of your thighs, even if that’s all he wants to do right now.

“i—you finished,” you explain, looking up at him with a confused pout. beomgyu thinks he might be feral. you have him acting like a dog.

he pulls you up and sits you on the bed, kneeling in front of you on the floor. adrenaline rushes through his veins, unable to take it anymore. he really needs to see your cunt.

“will you let me touch you this time? please?” beomgyu finds out today that he’s a begging man—something he previously considered himself above being. you look at him with wide eyes that scan him like he’s lost his mind.

his head rests on your thigh, eyes flitting to your skirt to see if he can see beneath it, to no avail. he looks at you with all the hope and urgency he could possibly convey, trying to make you see how serious this is for him.

“can you at least touch yourself for me?” he asks. you gasp, scandalized at his words, and he can’t act like he cares how perverted he’s being. he’ll do anything for just a peek. his hands find your thighs, ready to pry them open whenever you let him.

“why?” you ask. beomgyu doesn’t have a good reason. this isn’t to teach you anything. he’s just being selfish.

“cause i need it,” he answers. you bring a hesitant hand back to your center. “yes, thank you,” beomgyu says, watching with diligent eyes as he spreads your legs open to invite your hand in. he could almost cry when he sees your ruined panties. they’re soaked through, practically useless now. he wants to lean forward and run his tongue over it.

“like this..?” your voice is so shaky, hand so uncertain as it rubs down your slit. beomgyu can’t rip his gaze from your cunt, eyes blown out with lust as they follow your fingers through your folds.

“a little harder,” he instructs, unblinking as he watches you obey. you press down with more force, and beomgyu feels it when your thighs start to tremble. he thinks about pushing your panties aside and dipping his finger in knuckle deep. you must be wet enough to accommodate that easily. he’d do everything right, touch you just like you want.

you gasp and run your fingers on your clit, and beomgyu can’t help it when his hands start inching up your thighs. he wants more, he needs to be the reason why you cum. he’s getting greedy, squeezing your thighs and kissing your legs. it’s all he can do to keep himself from pushing your hand away and showing you how it’s done.

“can’t i do this for you?” he asks, inching his hand up even further. his fingertip grazes the hem of your panties, tracing it lightly. he thinks he’s being amazingly patient for how desperate he is.

you bring a fingertip to tease your clothed entrance, palm resting on your clit. beomgyu whines at the sight. you’re going to cum before he even gets his hands on you. how is this fair?!

you don’t even answer him, you’re too far off in your own world, pleasuring your virgin pussy like he’s not even here. he licks your thighs, kisses a trail that gets dangerously close to your cunt, holds your legs open with a grip that’s a little too forceful, but none of it gets your attention.

he doesn’t want to be bitter. he doesn’t want to be mad. the words just leave him before he can stop himself. “i bet you let taehyun touch you.”

your eyes finally open, and a part of him is glad to have your attention back. “i don’t,” you answer. his words only seemed to deter you for a second, because you fall back into your rhythm before beomgyu could do anything with the three seconds of attention you spared him.

he nips your thigh, licks up and up and up until he can smell your arousal, nose practically touching your busy hand. he can tell immediately when you cum—your thighs fight against his grip, moans roll off your tongue shamelessly, your hips roll up into your hand.

this is so stupid. he would’ve had your thighs shaking way more, would’ve had you spewing out nonsense as he fucked you into the best orgasm of your life. you should have tears rolling down your cheeks. you should be worn out and exhausted. you shouldn’t be able to just get up and go like it’s nothing. beomgyu watches with a pout as you readjust yourself in the mirror.

“thanks again, gyu,” you say when you turn back to him with a smile. he’s sitting on the bed now, and you press a kiss to his cheek. he wishes it didn’t make his heart flutter. he still wants to be mad at you.

“when are you coming over again?” he asks as he grabs your hand.

“why?” you giggle.

“there’s more i want to show you.” he’ll think of whatever excuse he can. he just needs more of you.

“like what?”

shit. how does he word this without making it about him? “like what to do when a guy goes down on you.”

you laugh at his words, then look down to check your phone. “maybe next time,” you say. “i’ll see you, gyu.” you’re gone before he can stop you.

this is some cosmic joke. when the hell is ‘next time’ gonna be?! you’re testing beomgyu’s patience here. he holds onto hope that you mean it when you say that, reeling at the idea of getting to eat you out. he prays the universe doesn’t torment him again with fantasies of you in your absence. he doesn’t think he can handle another week of this.

[jennaispunk]

Someone Like You

Summary: A vacation you didn’t want to take turns into something you never expected.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.3 k

Tags/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, allusions to smut, shitty ex-boyfriend (not Marcus), brief mention of infidelity (again, not Marcus. He would never), meet cute, instant attraction, Marcus being Marcus (aka perfect), reader is shorter than Marcus and has hair that can be tucked behind her ear but no physical description is given

A/N: I wrote this for @whocaresstillthelouvre follower challenge (I hope you enjoy this Mallory!!). The moodboard was dream vacation with Marcus. This moodboard is gorgeous and I am so in love with it. I’m sorry I held onto this for so long. I went at the idea of a “dream vacation” a little differently. This was the idea that immediately came to mind when I saw this moodboard. This is for all my Marcus girlies (gn). Marcus deserved so much better and this is my (lame) attempt at a fix-it fic for Marcus. Thank you @clawdee for the beta read. The title is taken from a Van Morrison song.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You didn’t even want to go on this stupid trip. You’d planned it with Justin, and it was supposed to be a romantic getaway…until you caught him in bed with his ex-girlfriend, the one he called crazy and told you he wasn’t talking to anymore.

Your friends had convinced you to go on the trip anyway. "Fuck him!" they said. "Go on this trip and have the time of your life." Since the trip was paid for already, and you couldn’t get a refund, you reluctantly packed your bags.

The plane ride to Miami was peaceful. The older married couple sitting next to you was celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary. They showed you pictures of their grandkids, and you smiled politely. They were the goal…one that was looking increasingly out of reach.

You dropped your bags in your hotel room with a loud thud. You fell onto the bed and let yourself sink into the soft comforter. The sun shone brightly into the room, warming your skin, and you slipped into a peaceful afternoon nap.

Most of that night was spent sitting on the balcony listening to the ocean crash against the shore and feeling sorry for yourself. How did you not see the signs that Justin was cheating on you? They were there, you just chose not to see them. Every time that little voice in the back your mind started to chirp, you ignored it and told yourself it was just your insecurities. Looking back now, you should have listened. Hindsight is always 20/20.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed determination. You were done thinking about the past, it was time to live in the present. Today was going to be different. Today, you were going to go the beach and soak up all the glorious South Florida sun you could handle. You were going to let the ocean breeze carry all your worries away. This vacation was meant to be enjoyed and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

In your cutest bikini (bought specifically for this trip) and cover-up, you confidently strolled across the hotel lobby. It might be considered modest by Miami standards, but it showed off your assets. A small smile played on your lips as you remembered how sexy you felt the first time you put on the hot pink fabric. All around you were happy couples, holding hands and stealing kisses. Your resolve to not wallow in your sadness faltered just a bit as you made your way to the door, but you held your chin higher. You weren’t going to think about Justin anymore.

“Excuse me…”

You jumped as someone touched your shoulder and wheeled around to see a handsome man looking down at you. If you had to guess, he looked to be around your age. The style of his chestnut brown hair screamed young professional, and his mocha eyes were the kind you could get lost in.

“I think you dropped this.”

His large hand held a hotel key card toward you between thick fingers. Your brow furrowed and you patted the pockets of your cover up only to realize that your room key was missing.

You smiled at him and the heat rushed to your cheeks. Your carelessness struck again. How did you not realize you dropped your key?

“Thanks. It was sweet of you to track me down.”

The smile he shot back at you almost made you melt. It was so genuine, and the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled made you weak in the knees. Your eyes darted over his shoulder, half expecting his wife or girlfriend to be standing behind him, waiting. He was alone, and you smiled just a bit wider.

“It’s no problem.” His soft voice carried to your ears like a sweet melody. “You’re probably going to need this later.”

Your soft laugh was met with a nervous chuckle of his own. His soulful eyes studied you like a work of art but somehow it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking at you like other men do.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Marcus.”

He extended a hand toward you, and you froze for a moment. You couldn’t even remember the last time a man introduced himself to you this way outside of a professional setting, and you found yourself intrigued by this stranger.

You offered your name in return and placed your hand in his. His skin was rougher than his appearance suggested, and the warmth radiated right through you.

“So, Marcus, does your wife or girlfriend know that you go around saving strange women from being locked out of their hotel rooms in your spare time?”

His laugh came from his belly, like you told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. It was warm and genuine. Suddenly, you had butterflies in your stomach.

“Actually, I’m not married or even seeing anyone right now.”

Your brow raised and those butterflies intensified. How in the world was this man still single?

Stop! This isn’t what you were here for. The last thing you needed was to get mixed up with anyone while you were here. The purpose of this trip was to stop thinking about your ex, not lust after a handsome stranger.

“Well, there’s a beach chair out there calling my name.” Your eyes darted toward the door and then back to him.

“It was nice to meet you, Marcus. Enjoy your vacation.”

You turned to leave without giving him a chance to respond. It was better to walk away now, before you did something you’d regret later.

Marcus watched you walk away, rubbing his chin as he huffed softly. He certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on this trip, but maybe it was fate.

You told yourself that you’d never see Marcus again, that it was just a fluke meeting, a fleeting moment in time that was never meant to be anything. You didn’t believe in fate or destiny. That was for other people.

It seemed that fate was trying to prove its very existence to you, because the very next morning at breakfast you ran into Marcus once again.

“How was the beach?” Marcus asked with that heart stopping smile. “You didn’t get sunburned, did you?”

Your cheeks felt warm as he looked you over. How could such a simple question get you flustered?

“Nope. I got the perfect amount of sun.”

The two of you chatted for a few minutes before your phone buzzed in your pocket.

“Sorry, but I gotta go or I’ll be late for my massage.”

His hand jutted out to stop you as you turned to leave.

“This is going to sound crazy, but would you have dinner with me tonight? There’s this amazing restaurant overlooking Biscayne Bay.”

You bit your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. What would be the harm in having dinner with him? Why shouldn’t you have fun while you’re here? You needed a distraction and Marcus certainly fit the bill.

“Dinner sounds nice.”

His body visibly relaxed when you agreed, and you could have sworn you heard him sigh.

“Great. I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven?”

“Seven it is.” You responded and headed off to your massage.

That was the moment that everything changed, although you didn’t know it at the time. You’d spent every night with Marcus since then and the more you learned about him, the harder you fell for him. The two of you lived closer than you thought, he was in DC and you were in Baltimore. You scoffed when he told you that he was an FBI agent with the art theft division, but he showed you his badge and swore you to secrecy under penalty of death. He winked and laughed, and you were sure he’d stolen your heart then and there.

He was here on a case and decided to stay an extra week to use up his vacation time. He was a total foodie, he talked at length about the amazing restaurants in DC. Every detail you learned about each other just made the attraction grow.

The week practically flew by as your time was occupied by Marcus. He took you to the institute of Contemporary Art and Pérez Art Museum and watched you with a smile as you marveled at the art, and he explained the finer details. The way he spoke about the art had you completely captivated.

On your second to last night in Miami, he took you to a bar with a live band. You couldn’t believe your eyes when he jumped up on stage with the band and they played one of your favorite songs.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him on stage. The image before you didn’t jive with the mild-mannered, soft-spoken man you’d spent the last few days with, but it intrigued you all the more.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

The smile was still plastered to your face. He looked so carefree up there on the stage.

“It was definitely worth it to see you smile like that, Sunny.”

He wasn’t going to tell you that he’d cashed in a favor from the lead singer. He wanted you to think it was totally random.

After leaving the club, he took you for a moonlight walk on the beach. The night sky was crystal clear. A thousand stars dotted the sky, like a painting created for just the two of you.

During a brief moment of silence between you, he took your hand and laced your fingers together. It all felt so perfect, too good to be true. You never thought that you would meet someone like him.

He suddenly stopped walking and tugged your hand. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked down at you. After everything that happened with Teresa, he wasn’t looking for anyone. She had broken his heart, and he wasn’t sure if he was even ready to try again. Looking at you now, with the ocean breeze in your hair and the moonlight illuminating your skin, he knew he couldn’t walk away.

“Everything okay?” You asked

He smiled at you and looked down at the sand before looking back up.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do all week.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek. He gazed into your eyes, almost hesitant before he leaned in and softly pressed his lips to yours.

You tensed for the briefest of moments, you didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you were glad he did. You kissed him back, slightly parting your lips to let his tongue in your mouth. It couldn’t have been any more romantic: the moonlight, the soft swish of the waves upon the shore, and the most perfect man you’d ever met holding you in his arms.

As you packed your suitcase to head to the airport, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights. You got lost in the memories of the way he made you come on his fingers before he made you come on his cock, how he intertwined his fingers with yours as he pinned your hands to the mattress, the way he talked you through your second orgasm: That’s it, sweet girl…just like that…so beautiful. He even held you afterwards, something Justin never did.

It really was like a dream come true. This vacation was wonderfully unexpected, and you didn’t want it to end. You didn’t want to go back to the real world, back to your job and your old life….not when you’ve had a taste of what could be.

Marcus paced the hotel lobby waiting for you to check out. After Theresa, he’d almost sworn off love completely, then he’d met you and he was smitten. He knew that this could work, he would be kicking himself later if he didn’t try.

You smiled as his sweet face came into view. Your heart clenched in your chest. Was this this last time you would see him? You couldn’t let that happen. This couldn’t be the end.

“This week turned out better than I expected.” you said with a soft laugh.

You wanted to say more. You wanted to tell him that this had probably been the best week of your life, but you held your tongue. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

He took your hands in his, smiling as caressed the back your hand with his thumb. His mocha eyes took in every inch of you, committing it to memory until he saw you again. It was now or never. He was going to tell you that he didn’t want this to be the end, the two of you could make this work. A short train ride was no big deal, and you could see each other often. All he knew was that he couldn’t just let you go.

The way he said your name made your heart stop. It sounded so beautiful rolling off his tongue, just like when he had you in bed.

Your lips pressed softly against his, swallowing his next words. You didn’t need anymore words. You just wanted to keep the magic alive for a few more moments before reality came crashing down.

The hum of the car engine behind you broke the spell. It was over, your Uber was waiting to take you to the airport and back to your life. You shoved a piece of paper into his hand and smiled as your eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“If you’re ever in Baltimore, give me a call.”

He chuckled softly as he watched you walk away and get into your ride. As you drove away, he looked down at the small piece of paper in his palm. There was no way in hell he was going to let you get away. He’d be calling you sooner than you thought.

[luciavrseblog-com]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐒 ; A King's Burden

— King!Heeseung x Queen!Reader

⠀ ⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ ⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⋆  . ⋆･. ⠀⠀˳ . ⋆⠀⠀.

Summary: For months, the Queen of Light has been nothing but a ghost, her kingdom lost to a curse that shattered the world’s balance. Now, even the Dark Kingdom suffers, and its newly crowned king, Heeseung, sets out to claim what remains. But when fate leads him to the missing queen, their reluctant alliance forces them to face a deeper truth—light and dark were never meant to exist without each other. The question is: can they fight fate, or were they always meant to fall together?

A/N: Hello~ this is my first chapter of this fanfic… and I'm a little unsure whether it's engaging or not, which is why the second chapter will be uploaded not too long after this chapter. My schools first unit ends on the 4th next month, so I will be trying to do more updates as I have some break off of school!  Please let me know if you're wanting to be a part of a tag list and if you're liking the story so far!

Wc: 4134

Warnings: Mild language use, mentions of death and destruction, light horror themes, supernatural elements

⠀ ⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ ⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⋆  . ⋆･. ⠀⠀˳ . ⋆⠀⠀.

The ink that bleeds through the paper gets harder to read everyday, the cursive writing in the journal leading up to the hour slowly becoming more incompetent as the light from the flames start to die out. 

‘The light.’

He writes. 

‘The light that has once welcomed our world is slowly leaving. It’s been seven months since the last letter from the light kingdom and three months since we’ve come scarce on our light sources. Karina insists that it’s fine and that the Queen is just having her misfits again. I tell her not to use too much and to not say such foolish things, but she insists she can only do her routines when night has officially fallen. It ‘set’s an atmosphere’ she says.’

His quill stills on the paper, his lips pursing together at the thought of his wife’s inconsiderate actions. It has been four years since their coronation, and it is expected after this journey that they will have kids. Heirs. 

His fingers tighten on the quill and he takes a breath before continuing to write. 

‘I pray she is fit enough to run the kingdom by herself these next few months. She’s been nagging me about an illness she might inherit from her mother, which I highly doubt. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but if much changes, I will immediately switch it back to how I like it. I will leave this journal here and take a new one to track my mission, if anyone finds it, they will know of the exciting adventures I experienced with the six of my soldiers.

Please, keep Karina in check. And don’t let her change anything too drastic.’ 

He watches as the ink dries in the journal, as if much will change, before he shuts it, letting it rest in the middle of his desk. Besides the book, the candles dwindling light flickers, and for a moment, Heeseung thought it grew stronger, as if it was fighting for it’s life. He thinks about what the Light Kingdom’s final days were like – broken, in flames, one last flash of light before darkness falls. 

He doesn’t even notice the presence of his wife until the smell of Jasmine greets his nostrils, scrunching his nose momentarily, he leans comfortably in the chair and tilts his head backwards, lazily. “How long have you stood there?” He mutters, watching her upside down.

“Long enough to see you watch the ink dry,” her sharp tone speaks, causing him to tilt his head up so she doesn’t see the roll of his eyes. The slide of her hand on his shoulders distracts him from the annoyance as she leans over him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m still unsure on why you wanted to do this. You’re king of this Kingdom. Whatever happens over there, is their problem.”

He fights the urge to scoff, reaching his hand up to intertwine their fingers, shifting his body and guiding her to stand in front of him, “If it causes our fall, then it is.” He whispers, properly addressing his wife by pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles of his fingers. “You changed the colour of your nails.” 

“You sound exactly like how your father did,” she scoffs at his attempt of changing the topic, rolling her eyes and situating herself on his lap, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans into him, “So dramatic and nosy. If it’s really that serious, then as queen, I should be going beside you.”

“No.” 

She stiffens as she hears his immediate disagreement, her eyebrows furrowing as she tilts her head to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going,” Heeseung says, voice firm as he trails his fingers in small circles on her lower back while his other hand rests on her thigh to keep her secure. He watches the annoyance in her eyes flare to something of anger, lips curling upwards softly before he leans in and presses soft kisses to the plump skin of cheek, her jaw, and her neck. “You’re too precious to me. I don’t want you dirtying that stunning face of yours, my love. Who will keep the kingdom in check if we’re both gone?”

His shift in tone – from cold to indulgent – seems to please Karina as her usual smile is back on her lips, giggling and tilting her head to press a happy kiss to his lips. “I suppose you’re right. A kingdom needs their queen afterall.”

A squeak falls from her lips as Heeseung suddenly lifts her up, carrying her bridal-style and spinning her around in a small circle before he makes his way towards their bed, pressing kisses along her skin to keep her satisfied. 

“Just lay with me for now, rina,” he whispers against her skin, “I leave tomorrow.”

He keeps his promise until just before the sun is meant to rise, barely little light coming in as he double checks his items, fingers brushing over his journal one last time before he heads to his horse. His last potential words dismissing his wife.

The morning air is tense as his guards part, making way for their King. Mounting their horses at once, their hooves strike the ground as they strut through the streets. The sounds are deafening in the early morning, as everyone else lays in bed alongside their loved ones while the seven men ride out to a location that may be just fine. That would mean he was overreacting, as Karina has said one too many times these past few weeks. 

Yet, he knows. That gut feeling that something is not okay.

It’s like he can hear the nagging tone in her future letters, the way she’d slowly degrade him more and more, listing the ways she changed the kingdom to fit her wants, not even bothering to take into account Heeseung or the villagers. She’d be wearing that insufferable, condescending snarl on her face and she’d flip the pages through his withered journal. 

He can hear his main guard, Jay, shouting out directions to his other men and guiding the horses along the rocky roads that soon turn into dirt. The further they venture, the more dry the air comes and the higher the humidity rises. He wonders how his father rode down this road when he was still King. How tall had he stood, going into battle, while knowing that he would return safe? To his people. To his Queen. How did he fight for so many years and return as strong as when he left? He wonders if Karina would jump into his arms when he arrives home, cooing and doting over him the whole way back to their chambers before laying with him and feeding him the food he’s been wishing for. 

Or if she would nag him when he came back, murmuring how it was a waste of time and draping herself on him to distract him from the changes in the Kingdom. Maybe, if the trip was useless, then he’d have Jay and Sunghoon rough him up a little – just enough for Karina to slip into the nurturing role their parents wish she’d have. 

That night, after grueling, long hours of travelling, watching as tumbleweeds drift past, they set up camp. The fire burned in the middle of the group, the six guards sharing their stories of their lives outside of battles and protection. Heeseung smirked as Sunoo shared the gossip about his older sister cheating on her husband with a fishmonger.  He lets his gaze rest on the stubborn flames that flicker even on the still road.

“And then,” Sunoo said, shaking his head and laughing softly, “Her husband found out, came to me and stated he has to train beside me–  to ‘be stronger’. Mind you, he works in the bakery for a living and the lover cuts up salmon for a living.”

The men around him bark out laughter at the thought of his in law training alongside him, the thought itself being ridiculous. They continued like that for a few more minutes, the guards sharing stories of each other like how Sunghoon almost got trampled by their horses because Jake was too busy ogling a pretty woman to secure the reins properly.

As their stories died down into more simple words, Heeseung kept his gaze locked on the dancing flames. He watched them dance around each other as if they were whispering words to him. 

His mind wanders back to his castle that his ancestors walked through for decades – centuries even. He imagines Karina draped across the beautiful, emerald green chair near their bay window, dressed in her finest silks, barking orders at the servants. 

For a moment, he saw her in a way that he almost forgot existed.

Beautiful and airy, giggling and making jokes alongside him in the morning light. Her skin is smooth, and her cheeks are slightly flushed in embarrassment as he teases her and presses kisses along her skin. The image of his wife. His Queen. 

His thoughts eventually shift once more. To the bigger picture at hand.

The Light Kingdom. 

He wondered how their Queen and King had fallen, what managed to take over half the world and keep the imbalance stable for such periods of time. What were their final thoughts before they were wiped out? How were they wiped out? Did they prepare for what happened?

He wanders back to the time he met their King, standing strong as he and his wife greeted Heeseung and Karina, the air immediately lifting.

Soobin was a wonderful man, he remained standing tall, his broad frame creating whiplash to his bright personality. His toned arms were constantly adorned by the decoration of his wife’s beautiful, ringed fingers – who never stood too far from her husband. His smile was as bright as the sun in the sky, as if it was a relic in his name. A relic of the light he was meant to protect. 

Heeseungs jaw clenched, his eyes falling to his lap as he takes in a deep breath. 

That light was gone. 

All that’s left is the flames in place of his ashes. 

The sound of the horse’s neighing and stomping on the dirt drags him out of his thoughts. He tilts his head up, blinking as he sees that everyone is staring out to the distance. The horses, too, stood rigid as they looked towards the horizon. The air runs thin, and even the crackling of the fire grows silent. 

Heeseung’s throat runs dry as he looks to where his guards watch, ignoring the way their horses snort and shift uncomfortably. 

“Jay.” He mumbles, keeping his voice firm despite the hesitancy he’s feeling. 

They shouldn’t be worried. Darkness is where they’re from, their calling, their destinies. They can face anything that’s in the darkness. Except, this time, with no answer from his head guard, Heeseung feels uncertain of what lurks in the distance. 

“Jay.” He repeats again, his voice slightly louder than before, narrowing his eyes as his hand twitches towards his sides. Finally, Jay turns his head, slow and carefully as if trying not to startle the thing in the distance. 

“We’re not alone.” He whispers, his own hand reaching for his sword. 

His words spoke enough. 

Something was out there.

The other guards had never looked more tense or terrified, frozen in place as their eyes dart between each other and the horizon. 

Then – there was the slow gurgling noise. Distance and high pitched. 

Heeseung didn’t even notice when he moved, standing into a simple fighting stance and gritting his teeth together, getting ready to sheath his sword. “We must leave,” He says slowly, narrowing his gaze and slowly shifting it over the horizon. “Now. Move it.”

The six men didn’t need to be told twice, instantly standing and mounting their horses, calming them down quickly in hopes they wouldn't get kicked off. Heeseung hears Jake cooing to his stallion, telling her to calm down and stroking her mane. 

As Heeseung’s eyes shift to his horse, away from the horizon for a singular second, a rotten smell reaches their nostrils. Heeseung immediately covers his nose, looking back up to find the source of the smell, but all he can see is darkness. Nothing moves and nothing creeps forward. 

Niki clears his throat, speaking up for the first time all night. “Your honour, we need to leave. Please.” His voice wavers and the realisation of everyone's fear settles in. Heeseung nods his head, motioning with his fingers to move forward. 

The adrenaline starts to shoot through the King’s veins, pressing for his horse to move at a high speed to get far away from whatever lurks. Despite his evident fear, he stays behind the others, constantly counting them to make sure nothing has pulled them aside and they’re all safe. 

It’s only the first night and dangers are coming. He prays that this journey was worth something in the end. 

They spend the whole night moving East. There were no break periods, no matter how tired the horses were and how sore the men were. There were no stretch periods and there was no time for water breaks. Just 12 hours of riding through dirt roads. 

As the sun started to rise, there was still no humanity in sight. They didn’t encounter anything else throughout that night, but the smell lingered on for miles and Heeseung was sure he could smell it in the early mornings. 

Pure exhaustion weighed on the men, and no matter how far they traveled, it still felt like they weren’t even at the edge of the Dark Kingdom. 

By the time they saw some sort of life forms, it was a rice farmer travelling between his farm and the riverbank nearby. He called himself a foreign name that was unfamiliar with all of them, Vernon. He offered them a place to sleep and for their horses to rest. 

Heeseung didn’t wake till the next day. 

After that fearsome night, Heeseung made sure that wherever they set camp was safe and protected. He made Jungwon draw sigils and place any protection spell on each of them, their horses and where they slept. He refused to let something unknown hurt them. 

On the fifth day of travelling, they arrive at their fourth town. Except this time, it was empty and cold, ashes taking place where people stood. Heeseung strolls leisurely through the town, keeping his guard high as he scans the surroundings. The soft sound of rustling makes him come to a halt. 

He raises his hands to stop the others, listening into the deafening silence of the ruins. Just as he goes to motion to continue forward, the sound of crying and footsteps make them freeze. A figure slowly makes their way towards them, their feet walking quickly and their heavy breaths coming into their line of hearing. 

“The chapel!” The figure cries, waving their hands as their steps speed up slightly, “Everything is ruined… but the chapel! The chapel has the books… and the… Light… Kingdom…” 

Heeseung’s head perks up at the mention of the Light Kingdom, his stoic expression faltering for a moment as he watches the figure collapse into a heap on the floor. 

There’s silence for a few moments before Heeseung clicks to his left. “Sunoo, Jungwon, Niki,” He says, turning his head, “You three stay with this… priest. Keep him alive. Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, you come with me. We’re going to find the chapel.”

It doesn’t take long to find the tall, decorated building, the poor sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows and shining onto the entrance, as if the building was waiting for them. Heeseung takes a mental note to mention it to Karina in the future, knowing she loves when the window pains in the castle do such things. 

The horses stay outside as the three men stretch their legs, sauntering through the rubble of the broken doors. Feet are etched into the wooden floors, a memory of the people who stood before them not too long ago. Heeseung can’t help but wonder what happened to the beautiful building. He waits till he stands in the middle of the room until he pauses, lifting his head up and looking around the tall walls, stained glass windows decorating every space, telling its story of the Kingdoms. 

At the entrance, stands two opposite sides, a dark and a light, in between them was a glass stain in the shape of a rose. Next to it, showed the pair in battle, holding each other at their throats as the rose starts to wither away. Beside it shows the dark side watching the light side at the river, cupping some water in their hands and taking a sip, the rose on its last petal. The rest show the story of how, despite their hatred for each other, they have to work together to store a balance in the world, their love story blooming and creating a peace between them. 

Heeseung heard the story countless times: throughout his childhood, in literature classes, when he found out he was getting married, at the wedding, at the coronation, at the honeymoon and so on… It was to remind him why he should never battle with the light kingdom, to never become selfish and try to take more land than he really needs. 

Heeseung hears the trio murmuring and can see them pointing at the windows as they recall the story and try to piece everything together. He scoffs and focuses on the task at hand, letting out a sigh and climbing up the steps to the podium, finding a desk off to the side filled with spilled paper and ink everywhere. 

“The books… the books. What books?” He thinks out loud, furrowing his brows as he starts to look through the drawers, being met with empty spaces and cobwebs. He grunts in frustration, sliding a drawer shut and covering his face with his hands. He’s lucky enough to even hear the sound of the object falling onto the wooden floors. 

He slowly moves his hands away from his face, tilting his head down and looking around. Is he imagining things? What just dropped? He looks up, looking towards the three men he bought with him and seeing the way they all looked amazed by the intricate carvings in the seats and the poles. He blinks a few times before looking the opposite direction, immediately flinching as the light goes straight into his eyes. 

“Fuck–” he says, covering his face with his hands and stumbling back. When did that happen? He thinks to himself, keeping his hand covering the sunlight as he looks away, blinking away the dark spots that formed into his eyes. It takes him a few moments before he notices something glinting in the sunlight, a few seconds longer before he recognises what it is. A key. 

“Hey–” He says, catching the attention of his guards as he bends down, picking up the key, “Look what I found. Do you think this’ll help us find those books?”

“We found them already,” Sunghoon suddenly says, furrowing his brows as he and Jake hold up four different books. Jake’s were a dark navy colour while Sunghoon’s were a light yellow, the same words placed on all four: A crown of light, a throne of shadows. 

That night, they sat in a random building’s rubble, watching the fire flicker miserably as they try to decipher what was written in the pages. They’ve only managed to decipher the words ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ from the cover of the books. 

“So… if this symbol is ‘a’, then most of these should have ‘a’ in them.” Jungwon says, looking between the different books as he notices the same symbol used consistently. “Does anyone have some spare paper we could write on?”

Jungwon’s request is met with silence between all seven men, Heeseung’s expression turns somber for a moment before reaching out of his bag to find the journal he packed before he left. He opens up the pages and rips out a page along with a stick of granite, passing it over to the boy and watching as he immediately starts to write down the repeated symbols. 

They all watch in silence as Jungwon depicts what the vowels of the alphabet are, before placing the rest of the letters in their own section. They fill each of the letters with the translations etched onto the leather bindings on each book, each having their own meaning. 

Book one and three were both yellow-dyed velvet bindings, signifying the perspective of the Light Kingdom was being presented, while books two and four were the opposite. Book one had the words ‘Dawn on the fallen’ engraved on the front. 

“There’s no point doing this,” Sunghoon suddenly says, furrowing his thick brows and resting a hand on his thigh, “Translating these– these– ancient texts is useless! It’s going to be daybreak by the time we’ve finished translating the first page.”

He looks around the group of people, some of the younger men looking away to avoid eye contact while Jay and Heeseung keep their piercing gaze on the man. He’s always known to be the most impatient when it comes to these things, wanting to keep going to finish things. 

“This is important–” Jungwon starts but he immediately gets cut off by the brunette.

“Then how about you stay here in this shit fallen city so you can sit here and translate a bunch of old ancient shit.” Sunghoon spits, standing up in annoyance. “I’m not going to sit here and–”

“Hoon–” Jake starts, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back down but the latter yanks his hand away with a scoff. “Oi! Stop being fucking dramatic and sit back down. Where are you going to go at this time of night, huh?”

“Away from dealing with this waste of time!” He snaps, turning around and heading towards his horse, pulling on his reins and guiding him away a couple metres. The air is silent besides the footsteps of the man, Jake rolling his eyes and standing up to go chase after him. 

What happens next is something you wouldn’t have been able to see if you had blinked. Someone– no, something, grabs a hold of the horse's head, dragging the animal to the floor and taking Sunghoon with him. In a matter of three seconds, the horse is gone and Sunghoon is on the ground, Jake standing over him and cupping his face. 

Heeseung’s body moves before he even processes it, his feet running quickly and he can hear the footsteps of others behind him, “Sunghoon!” Heeseung calls, squatting down and checking over the man. “Are you good?”

The man below him groans in agony, slowly turning onto his back, showing everyone the gash right across his features. His porcelain features and pale skin is ruined with blood trickling down the sides of his face, bleeding into his hairline. 

“Shit.” Heeseung whispers, looking over his shoulder at the other men. “Get some bandages. Go!” He looks forward again, seeing Jake holding the man’s head into his lap, brushing his hair out of his face and whispering affirmations and reassurances. 

Heeseung stands, grabbing the hilt of his sword, looking around to find what mystery took his horse and slashes his guard's face, eyes only being met with darkness and the rubble of houses. His breathing quickens and he doesn’t remember much else that happens that night. 

The night is fueled with exhaustion, the translation being long forgotten by everyone else except Jungwon, who distracts himself from the situation with it, an underlying guilt setting in his stomach. Jake stays seated throughout the night, keeping watch over Sunghoon and keeping the injured head in his lap, playing with his hair and soothing him when the pain starts to become unbearable. 

Jay stays beside the youngest, having them sleep on either side of him in case the wretched creature comes back. Heeseung… Heeseung paces in circles around the camp, around the city. Watching as the moon hits the chapel’s stained glass windows, the symbol of harmony lighting up when it hits just right. His thoughts linger on every little thing, his wife, his kingdom, the light kingdom, the creature that just appeared and the way that the fire flickers lower and lower, straining Jungwon’s gaze. 

It takes them two more days before Jake decides they can leave, too worried about Sunghoon’s safety. Since they’re missing a horse, Sunghoon sits on the back of Sunoo’s horse, much to Jake's dismay, and they set out again, the same cycle of no rest and constant travelling happening once more until they reach the border. 

[enjoythesilentworld]

Confess

“I know they say it is wrong, Father. But I cannot help myself, I cannot stop. I picture myself kneeling before him at the dais, tempting him to stray. Tempting him to break his lifelong vow, to take me, instead, a holiness and reverence of an entirely different kind."

Or, Wilhelm goes to confessional, hoping prayer may ease his mind of the countless fantasies about the Deacon.

† for Kinktober: Worship, Semi-Pubic Sex, Uniforms, Marks † @youngroyals-events

read here on ao3 (E, 2k)

[siriuslyblack12]

a drabble i wrote inspired by casey’s prince henry ama!!

“I can’t believe this does it for you,” Henry says matter-of-factly.

Alex can’t quite believe it either. Alas, he is only a man, weak to the impossible charm of his boyfriend. Especially when said boyfriend is wearing cowboy boots, jeans so tight they may as well be painted on, a flannel shirt and a stetson.

“Fuck,” Alex mutters, making Henry’s smile grow wider. “Baby, you look incredible.”

“I feel a bit silly, if i’m honest,” Henry says.

“You look like sex on legs, hen,” Alex says with a frown, fisting a hand through his hair. Henry is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest with his eyes firmly fixed on alex, who is laid back on soft bedsheets already palming himself through his sweatpants. “Fuck, c’mere.”

Henry obeys happily. He crosses the room with an almost unnoticeable skip on his step, falling on to the bed and crawling until he sits near alex‘s legs. Unable to take a moment longer apart, Alex pulls him forward by the hips until Henry’s legs straddle him - and if this wasn’t already one of the hottest sights he’s seen, he may have crumbled then and there. He lets his thumbs draw circles on Henry’s hips for a moment as his eyes greedily take in the sight, and he feels Henry’s arms wrap around his shoulders sweetly.

"I can’t explain it," Alex says, almost to himself. “You’re just… so fucking sexy, sweetheart. I can’t get enough.”

“If I'd have known you'd react like this, I'd have worn this a lot sooner," Henry says with a soft smile and blush rising on his cheeks.

“And I'd have had a heart attack,” Alex shoots back. “Do you want to kill me?”

“I suppose not,” henry says with a thoughtful look in his eyes, before leaning forward and letting their lips brush together gently. It's soft, teasing, intimate: slow because they both know they're not in a rush. They have all the time in the world. They can be vulnerable with each other, sweet, movements aching and belaboured as they kiss over and over, with neither of them ever getting sick of it. Their kiss becomes more heated - hands roaming freely, tongues dancing, Alex's teeth biting softly at Henry's lips - but there's still a tenderness to it that makes Alex's heart burst.

Henry pulls back for a moment, throughouly flushed and already half-hard, "How the hell will you survive moving back to Austin? You know I'll have to wear stuff like all the time."

Alex smirks, "I'm counting on it, baby."

"We are never going to finish renovating the house if you're as horny as this," Henry says, his stupid, posh accent making the words sound even more scandalous than they are.

Alex groans, pinching Henry's hips, "You complaining?"

Henry scoffs, "Of course not, love. I'm just worried for you're productivity."

"There's bigger things to worry about right now."

Henry leans forward to press a few kisses against Alex's mouth, smiling into it before raising an eyebrow at him, "Was that a dick joke, Alexander?"

"Why yes it was, Your Majesty," Alex mocks with a frankly terrible impression of Henry's accent. After all these years of living together, sharing a home and a life, he is still no better at it. "Now, are you going to put those riding boots to good use?"

[cosmic0artist]

[suggestive; Loki x Sigyn, i let my mind wander at work again, i typed this directly into tumblr i have no idea how many words it is]

————————

Loki was never taught to want like this.

Men in Asgardian society were raised to take, to command, to conquer. You fought for dominance, for control, because to yield was to lose, and losing was weakness. Submission was something to be ashamed of, something that had to be beaten out of you before it could ever take root. Loki learned that lesson early.

Even before he understood what wanting meant, he knew he was wrong. It was just another thing that set him apart, another quiet fracture between himself and the world he was meant to belong to. He’d listened as his peers spoke of conquest, of pleasure measured in power, in taking, in owning. He had learned to nod along, to play the part when it suited him, to shape himself into whatever they expected. But beneath it all, there was always the gnawing realization that he did not want the way they did.

The few times he indulged, he played both sides, tried everything, seeking— something. Perhaps confirmation that he was capable of taking pleasure the way others did. But it never felt right. Regardless of the position he assumed, there was always something missing, something hollow in the way bodies tangled and moved against one another. His pleasure was fleeting, a distant thing, never quite touching the part of him that ached.

And then there was Sigyn…

It’s different with her. It isn’t about taking. It isn’t about power or victory, not truly. It’s about the way she holds him, the way she steadies him, the way her hands map his body with something that manages to be gentle and claiming at once. He feels it when she presses him down, when she kisses him, when she whispers against his skin, “Mine.”

Oh, how he wants to be hers.

The heart of Loki’s pleasure is not in the act itself, not just in the heat of it, not in the way their bodies move together, but in the surrender. In giving himself to her. In feeling her weight against him, her strength caging him in, her touch guiding him. That was what unraveled him, what left him breathless, aching, desperate.

How strange it is, he thinks, that others see this as losing. That they would never understand the way he thrives in her hands, the way he melts for her so easily, so perfectly. They would never know how it feels to be wanted like this—to be kept.

He wants to surrender, to let her take over, to let her look at him with those knowing eyes and decide what he needs before he can even say it. He wants to feel her strength against him, wants to be held down, wants to hear her voice—warm, teasing, yet so full of love—as she tells him to be good for her.

And he would be. He is.

With her, it doesn’t feel like losing. It doesn’t feel like weakness. It feels like safety, like veneration, like reverence, like something he was always meant for. She has always had a talent for finding all of the ways to undo him completely.

She doesn’t make him fight for control. She doesn’t expect him to perform for her. She doesn’t demand that he earn softness. He knows that he does not deserve it, and yet she gives it to him freely, even when she’s pressing him down, pinning his wrists, tilting his chin up so he has no choice but to look at her when she tells him how beautiful he is beneath her. She calls him ‘love’ like it’s his name.

She makes submission feel like devotion.

And Norns help him, that feels right.

[mrscoriolanus-snow]

Is it truly flattering?

Coriolanus is the kind of man to have an extravagant, or elegant nick name for the woman he loves or feels something for. His nick name being "My rose" or "Rose" maybe something along the lines of "Petal" "Flower" you name it. When you hear him call you his rose, theres just something so...violent about it.

Every morning, you wake up, and while watching him get ready, you see a trend.

The small vase of white roses sit on the grand desk, where he works from. Which gets replenished every saturday, at 3:30. Because that's when the green house gardens, are most warm.

He fixes his shirt in the morning, putting on his little thin suit vest. The small rose holder sits neatly on his left side

He strides elegantly to the vase. Picking up a rose. Pondering its shape, size and smell. Only seconds later, snapping it, so theres only about two inches left of the stem.

This isn't what scares you, or makes you concerned.

Its his small compliment is what makes this so... violent and somewhat scary

The man will say the most flattering seeming thing of all. "You are as beautiful as the roses which grow in the gardens...." quite a flattering line if I do say so myself

Is it really though...? Is the idea of being his rose really...that flattering?

I mean cmon! He snaps all of his roses at the neck and puts them to his chest like a prize.

Ultimately discarding them just to repeat the pattern over..and over..and over again..

Just a thought to keep in the back of your head. It might be a beautiful thing to be called, but what is its significance..?

Let me know how you feel about the name.

[galaxyedging]

No outbreak Joel Miller x inexperienced f!reader

Dave York x inexperienced f!reader

WC:3.2k

Summary: Dave and Joel make your birthday party memorable.

Warnings: Dub con. Dark Joel. Dave being Dave. Unprotected P in V sex. Anal. Degradation. Dirty talk.

Trigger warning: implying women who dress a certain way are asking for men to use them. That is obviously bullshit. This is fiction.

Summer Schooled

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

The party was going well. People were enjoying themselves. You were enjoying yourself, for the most part. The night would be a lot more comfortable for you if your panties weren't soaked through. Going up to your room to change them was too great a risk with Joel's words ringing in your ears "Just you wait until I find a way to get you alone."

Those words had been whispered in your ear when he'd greeted you with a hug to wish you a Happy Birthday. Since you had only lived here for the summer and you only had a handful of friends, your mom had decided to invite the neighbourhood. A little joint birthday/off to college/get to know the neighbours party. Unfortunately, you already knew a couple of neighbours particularly well. One was giving you daggers from the moment he saw the dress you were wearing. The other caught you in the kitchen grabbing a soda.

"I think I'd better renegotiate my terms with Joel. You are begging to be fucked in that dress. What do you say? I'll tell Carol I have to go into the office. Then I'll give you a birthday treat?"

Luckily, the hand Dave had been running up the back of your thigh moved to grab a snack when someone came in behind you.

Since then, you had been very careful not to be alone. You didn't trust either man not to follow you and fuck you with people around. More importantly you didn't trust yourself to say no.

The playlist you'd picked seemed to be a winner. People were dancing as well as mingling and talking. You got on the makeshift dance floor to take a spin round it. Thankfully neither Dave or Joel were there to watch at that point. Part of you hoped they had skulked off to jerk themselves off. Maybe then they'd calm down. The testosterone coming off them in waves every time a boy your age came near you was ruining your underwear. Thankfully, the two of them were out of sight. You took a moment to collect yourself, leaning on the wall just inside the kitchen and letting the tiled surface of it cool you. A smile was on your face as you watched your mom have a go at the latest Tiktok dance.

Suddenly, the room was plunged into near darkness. The music stopped. Confused voices took its place.

"The lights are on across the way. It must be the breaker." You heard your mom's voice.

Just as people started to switch on their phone flashlights, a large hand clamped over your mouth. A strong arm wrapped around your waist. In tandem, they pulled you back into the walk-in pantry. Those hands then moved to squeeze your breasts. A small gasp torn from your throat. They then skimmed down your curves until they found your thighs. Before moving up to cup your wet sex through the damp material there. You should have stopped him. People were only a few feet away. Then his finger dipped inside you, stretching you around them. His other hand found your clit. Making you work harder to keep in your moans. His lips found your bare shoulder. Plush, warm lips. A clean shaven cheek dragged across your skin as he moved to your neck.

"Dave?!" Panic flared in you. You tried to pull away but he spread his fingers and kept you speared there.

"Sshhh. Not so loud. You don't want people to find us. Especially not Joel, who I know did this to ruin your party and get you away from those boys." That was your thinking too. That's why you had assumed it was Joel who grabbed you. "What a naughty boy. We should teach him a lesson. Imagine how mad he'll be when he comes to play with this little cunt and it's already filled with my cum again? I bet he'd punish you real well."

You didn't have to tell Dave your view on that. Your pussy did it for you, leaking onto his hand. "Dirty fucking girl! I'm going to keep your mouth covered. You play with that clit nice and fast. I'm going to use your tight pussy to get this done quickly before he comes looking."

This was a bad choice and you knew it. The journey down that rabbit hole was well underway. Between last night and Joel teaching you how to sixty-nine this morning, you might as well be fucked in a pantry with your mom a few feet away. There was no redeeming you now.

Dave's cock was at your entrance before you knew it. He had the courtesy to pull your hips back slowly to push inside. Everything was still tender from last night. Even your jaw ached, which didn't seem to matter. Dave didn't seem like he was going to kiss you. This was more a functional fucking. He was going to fill you and send you to Joel. You had to admit when he was goal oriented, Dave got the job done. He'd pulled you up onto your tipple toes and squatted down a little so he could angle towards your g-spot. His thrusts were hard and fast but not without purpose. Your hand worked with them to get you off fast. Surprisingly so as you shuddered in his grip.

"Fuck. Yes. Dirty girl, soaking my cock. Fuck, bend over." Dave near bent you in two and started fucking you faster as you grabbed the wall above your head to steady you. "Shit. This tight little cunt takes my big, fat cock so well…I…." The quiet whine that left him made you flutter around him.

It was thrilling to make a big intimidating man weak for you. He continued to moan as he pumped more of his spend into you before dragging your underwear back up. You were just fixing your dress as the lights came back on. Turning to Dave you watched him tuck his cock back in and fix his outfit.

For a moment from the way he looked at you, you thought he might kiss you instead he grabbed your pussy. "Keep these on until Joel peels them off." Then he was gone. Giving it what you thought was enough time. You slipped out of the pantry only to run into your mom.

"There you are, Sweetie. Are you okay?" She cradled your cheek for a second. "Yeah, I was just getting more sauces when the lights went out."

"Oh. Well, it's fixed now. Joel took care of it. He's such a good neighbour. Oh, Sweetie, it looks like you spilled something on your dress. What is that? Ranch?" Before she looked closer. One of her friends came to grab her attention.

When she moved away you could see Joel standing behind her, seething at the fact that you were definitely not covered in ranch.

"My friend invited me to a bar. I might go after I tidy up. If that's okay with you? Your friends can stay over. Dave and the Morgans are going to be home if you need anything."

Just before you moved here, your mom got out of a crappy marriage to your step dad. She still made you her number one priority but you could see she was lonely. "Go now, Mom. We'll clean up." A couple of the people milling around agreed."

Dr and Mrs Morgan helped to clean up quickly with their son who was a little younger than you. When you finished you made sure to thank them all. Joel helped too. In fact he insisted on staying to help as he waved the Morgans off. "It's fine Melissa. You get your boy home. Sarah went back off to her spa weekend with the York girls. I got time."

Thankfully most of the tidying was done when Joel stalked back into the kitchen. Stopping short of you he pulled up a chair. "Now, Honey, are there some things you'd like to tell me?"

"Like what?" You didn't meet his gaze.

"How about you wearing this dress around those boys? And having one stay to help you?"

A laugh bubbled out of you. "Josh? His mom's aren't the only ones that are gay."

"The kids still young, he might be looking to experiment, and there you are in that slutty little outfit, parading around in front of him with a cum stain on it."

"I…" your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Now, why don't you tell me about Dave? Did I not suck that pussy hard enough this morning that you had to throw it on his dick?" His tone was eerily calm despite his words. "Take it off."

"What?"

"Take it off." There was a bite there now. "Take all of it off. The slutty fucking dress. The cum filled panties. Take. It. Off."

A tremor developed in your hands as you complied. Once you were naked in front of him. He leaned back in his chair.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" He fished your panties from on top of your discarded dress. He held them in one hand as he spoke. "Did you enjoy taking Dave's cock again?"

When you didn't answer he slammed his fist onto the table. He didn't scare you but the shock of it forced out an answer. "Yes!"

"He told me he made you touch yourself until you came. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

"What?"

"Sit your ass on the edge of this table. Spread your legs and show me how you touched yourself for him."

Once you were situated he pulled his chair up between your legs. "Go on."

Hesitantly you began to touch your clit. "Joel, the door isn't locked. The windows."

The blinds were still open in the kitchen. Anyone could see.

Joel laughed bitterly. "You've paraded that barely covered ass around. Your tits were almost spilling out and a married man fucked you in the kitchen with people a few feet away. It's a bit late to be modest. This is what I was talking about. You need to whore fucked out of you before you end up on your knees in some college circle jerk having a bunch of boys blow their loads over you."

Nodding you carried on working your clit. Thanks to earlier it did take long for you to come again. Shrinking under Joel intense gaze you barely made a sound. A little whimper came out as you quivered.

"Look at that." Joel's face was inches away from your pussy now. "Those little twitches are pumping all of Dave's cum out. It'd be a shame to waste it." With that he stood, pushing you back onto the table. The motion parted your legs and he slipped in between them. One of his hands pushed your thighs apart while the other gathered yours and Dave combined cum. You moaned at the intrusion when he started to slather it over your asshole, pressing his fingertips in ever so slightly with each pass.

"Maybe the problem is that I haven't claimed all your holes yet. I've painted your cunt. You've swallowed my cum. Now.." he pushed his finger in more, causing you to hiss. "Hush now, Darlin'. I'll admit I was mad before but now I'm just taking care of you. You don't want to go off to college and settle for some kid awkwardly jack rabbiting until he squirts into a condom just because you're horny. Let me satisfy you good and proper. Let me fuck some of those hormones out. Relax, just take it."

The finger at your hole pushed in more as he thumbed your clit. "Oh, good girl. There you go." His knuckle popped past your tight ring. "Gonna fuck your hole with my finger for a little while. Gotta get you good and ready for my cock." He felt you tense around him at the thought of taking his cock if just one finger was this tight. "Welcome to the adult world, Sweetheart. Your choices have consequences. You let another man come in my pussy. Now I have to fuck your hole whether you like it or not. See how I'm being kind, getting you all wet and prepared. What do you say?"

When you didn't instantly answer he pushed another finger in. "Oh. Fuck. Thank you, Joel."

"Good girl. You deserve a treat. Nothing but the best for my girl." His thumb was replaced by his lips as he sucked hard on your clit. The pleasure was so intense he managed to start on finger number three. Once you came again he used that to coat his cock, dipping it inside you and thrusting languidly until he was covered.

"Here, hold your knees up for me, Sweet Girl. Good." With you spread open he pushed in slowly. The burn was laced with ecstasy. It took a moment for the burn to fade then you moaned at the fullness stimulating all your delicate nerves.

"Fuck every hole on you is perfect." Joel wasn't in a hurry to finish. He pumped himself inside you leisurely. "You know. I think I've decided that I don't want you fucking any boys. I saw the way you were dancing with the girls out there. How you giggle and flushed when they accidently touched you. I think you'd be happy to get off with them." The thought made your throat dry. You couldn't deny it so you just lay there taking what he was giving you his cock, his proclamations. "When you go back east to college I'm gonna get lonely. I might need some material to keep me going. You could send me some pictures of that pretty face buried in a pussy. Maybe at the holidays you can bring a friend over? I'm a good host. I'd make you comfortable. One of you could sit on my cock and the other on my face." His thrusts stayed slow and shallow as he continued. "Or I could fill you while you make her come. Hell, maybe I'd even forgive Dave enough to let him join. We could see who could fuck you senseless first. I do sort of owe him." The chuckle he let out caused his cock to jump inside you. "We were going to share you at first but then I tasted that pussy on your fingers. I knew you had to be mine. Dave gets enough pussy anyway. When I wouldn't let him come over earlier he sent me a photo an hour later of some woman's face covered in his cum. He's pissed that you get him so worked up."

The thought of the two of them wanting you added to the tingle Joel's cock was nudging against through the thin wall of your pussy. Just as you finally started to fully relax around him and Joel bottomed out with a sigh, your phone rang. It was still on the table from where you had been cleaning earlier.

"Shit. It's my mom!" Joel barely reacted. He picked up the phone, answered it and put it on speaker. "Hi, mom. What's up?" It was a strain to keep your voice level as Joel pushed as deep in as he could and held himself there.

"The bar was super busy. We decided to come back. We'll be about five to ten minutes. I hope you don't mind. I heard none of your friends stayed."

"No. I was tired so I sent them home. I'm going to bed now."

"Oh, okay. We'll be quiet."

"Thanks. Bye, Mom."

As she said bye Joel hung up for you. "I guess we better be quick."

"Quick? No, Joel, she said five minutes. I need to get up to bed. You need to leave." You tried to sit up.

"No." Rough grabbed your tit to push you down. "You need to learn your lesson. Trust me." When you tried to argue he stuff you panties that he'd left balled up on the table into your mouth.

"Joel, please." You sobbed around them. It turned into a muffled scream as he started to thrust in aid of his release.

"This is what you need to learn, Baby. Look at how you've got me and Dave. He couldn't nut on your pretty face so he got some bored waitress to blow him. You've got me rambling about fantasies while balls deep in you. This is what you do to men.You momma could walk in right now and she couldn't blame me. This is all you. It's all your fault."

Whether it was his words or the pain of the new pace and depth, tears spilled from your eyes. "Stop. Joel. Stop, please." You couldn't have your mom see this.

"You don't mean that. Here." His fingers aggressively rubbed your clit. Your body reacted in spite of you. An orgams built quickly as Joel continued to use your ass.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, Baby. I'm just looking out for you. You need to know the truth. Men are going to be feral for you. You need to keep yourself safe without me. This is what could happen. They could be in you and not be able to stop themselves. You can take it though, my strong girl." His thrusts were still deep and strong but now they were erratic. "Take it just a little more. I'm almost there. Come on, come for me. Come while I fill you. Oh, fuck. Oh shit, Princess." The sight of Joel arching between your legs as he helplessly shot load after load inside you made you come. It was fucked up. He used you, degraded you. Ignored your pleas to stop, even if you didn't mean it. It was wrong. So fucking wrong. Still with what little strength was left in your rung out body you flung yourself at him, taking all the kisses he had denied you in anger.

"Oh, Sweetness. I'm glad you're not angry. I took it a little far. You know it's because I care right?" You nodded against his neck as you rested there a minute. "Speaking of which, you go get a shower. I'll clean up here." You looked at the once tidy table now covered in something that definitely wasn't ranch.

Over the sound of the spray of the water against your most intimate area, you heard your mom arrive home and a muffled conversation. When you got into bed, there was a text from Joel waiting for you.

I told your mom I sent you to bed while I tidied. Poor you, you were so tired. If you're sore in the morning. Come over and I'll eat your ass until you feel better.

It made your clean skin feel dirty. You wanted to go over there now and let him do whatever he wanted to do to your body. Deciding not to reply to him for fear of asking if you could come over and arousing your mom's suspicions, you set your phone down. After a moment it pinged. It was a message tone that was completely unfamiliar to you.

You naughty girl. You got me in trouble with Joel. He's not happy that I used your pussy.

The message disappeared a few seconds after you read it. Another one appeared.

He thinks that it's his. You and I know better. Don't we, Babygirl?

[farfromstrange]

I was listening to False Gob by Taylor Swift and thinking very unholy thoughts about Matt Murdock. She really had to sing about blind faith, how the altar is her hips and they should worship that love.

Nonnie, you are onto something here. If we think about the religious imagery in this song, we already have a lot of symbolism that can be related to Matt. It's not solely sexual, it also portrays the kind of unconditional love he would have for his significant other. Being torn between what he wants and his faith in God. Being torn apart IN the relationship because of having blind faith in each other and blindly believing things are going to work out fine with the life he leads on the side because it's impossible not to get caught up with this.

But let's talk about the sexual aspects of this song instead and focus on Matty.

I have some thoughts about that too and as I'm listening to the song, the following scenario came to mind:

18+ under the cut! (TW: religious imagery and symbolism)

You tear each other apart before you put each other back together again. It's a taking and a giving, but it's usually him who takes and you who gives. You fight and you try to understand, and then you make up because living without each other seems impossible.

You jumped into this relationship with the hope of a happy ending, but with every passing day, life got significantly harder to navigate. You blindly believed that it would be easy, but nothing is ever easy when it comes to Matt.

But between the fights that often have you cursing him to hell, there is heaven in every single one of his touches. His lips write poetry on your skin and set your body alight with sensations you have never experienced before.

When you're together, you forget about the constant push-and-pull you find each other in. You forget that the same lips that are capturing each other in the most intimate embrace are capable of uttering words that hurt.

You shouldn't be together, but here you are.

Matt is a religious man, but whenever he is with you, he turns into a sinner of the highest order. The worst part is though, he doesn't mind. With you, he believes in a different God, one that goes beyond anything his catholic little heart should allow - you are the one he prays to, the one he worships, and if he requires punishment, he will kneel for you if you demand him to do so.

You were crazy to think that this would work out, but he would die for you, and he would die between your thighs, too. It's the one place he could never get tired of. He would rather be there than outside where the noise attacks his ears like a sledgehammer and the smell slowly kills him inside; his religion isn't God or Catholicism when you're together, it's your lips, your body, and your sweet, sweet nectar.

He worships at the altar of your hips, whether it is propped up on a bed or the kitchen table. He would do it anywhere if he only gets to hear you moan his name in such ecstasy. For you, he would keep going for years or centuries to come. If you asked him to go to hell with you, he would.

The struggles you're facing, you get away with it. You get away with the fact that the odds have never been in your favor because even though it may be hard, he loves with a devotion that can not be matched up to. He loves so deeply, you can feel him in every crevice of your being and soul, and he continues to worship you like an angel - you are his religion, his God, and the Bible he reads with his fingers as if your most sensitive parts were Braille, and then, when he's done, he will do it all over again if you only beg him to. And you very often do.

Your love comes in different shapes or forms, and you're not afraid to say it, but for Matt, it's hard. He tries to show you in other ways, even if it's just worshipping your body and soul, telling you how good you are, and you take it every time. You're his and he is unconditionally yours. It doesn't matter whether or not it is blind faith that binds you, or the fact Matt finds more enjoyment and redemption in you than in God himself. What matters is that he gets to worship you to show you just how much he loves you, and only when you wrap your thighs around his head as he tastes you, all of you, your, sweet, tears and arousal, he finds his way home.

No matter how long you are apart, he will always come back to you. You're a drug. He is blind in more ways than one, but so are you. But neither of you wants to stop because no matter how painful it is, pain is a powerful motivator.

So the next time he dives between your legs and he hears you moan softly, "Matthew!" He prays to you the way you do to him.

Matthew.

The way his name sounds on your lips is a beautiful symphony. You moan and writhe and he drinks up every last drop of the holy water you give him. You take him to your personal church, you sing for him and baptize him, and he can never get enough.

Matthew.

His fingers dig into your soft skin, sure to leave marks, and he does his due diligence for all the sins he committed, for all the times he hurt you, and the air between you grows less tense as you submit to the pleasure he is so willing to provide.

He spells his name with his tongue as you scream it, and his heart flutters with something other than dread. He devours you, and he shows you just how much he loves you. And in return, to offer him redemption and finally free him from the shackles that bind him.

"Matthew!" It's the last time you utter his name before your legs tense around his head and he gets to drown in your completely.

The world outside disappears; only the bells of your gospel remain.

He kisses the inside of your thigh as he kneels before you, his unfocused eyes searching for something, anything, and you touch his cheek as if to tell him you are here. You won't leave him.

"Such a good boy," you murmur.

"Forgive me," he finds himself whispering over and over again. "Forgive me..."

For he is a sinner and sinners never reach heaven, but in your eyes, in your world, he is already in paradise.

You tug at his cross necklace, clicking your tongue.

"Forgive me," he repeats.

Your voice is bittersweet in his ear as you guide him back to your aching core. He is eager to dive back in, and this time you don't hold back as you use him.

"Matthew," you moan, and then you finally tell him what he needs to hear.

"You're forgiven."

And as you come for what feels like the millionth time that night, you whisper a promise of doing the same to him. All night. And he takes the offer greedily, as long as he gets to worship at the altar of your hips some more.

[purplebass]

I like to give commentary to my own writing and my comments may look like this (and yes this is totally about who you think it is)

[mamamittens]

AHHHH!!! Thank u thank u thank you!!!! 💗💗

Thank u so much for doing my request on yandere Luffy , I had so much reading it , love how you wrote him and the smut was 10/10 😎👌

Omg and the way you wrote gear 5 was chef kiss 😘👌 , I didn’t even think about the fact he could make the reader cartoony as well .

Seriously I love reading this , thank u so much for doing my request, sending love and hugs your way 💗

Bone Apple Tea (o゜▽゜)o☆

Not a problem! I've never written smut for Luffy so it was interesting exploring the relatively asexual character with darker, possessive, hedonistic tendencies.

[florenceafternoon]

Being a nerd pays off when it comes time to read in bed all day and you understand all the references and metaphors/similes

[notquitecanon]

Search History // Poly!141 x Reader

A continuation of this thought

Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.

I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)

CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut

Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks

“The 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.” 

Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base. 

“Thank you, private.” You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video. 

After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisiting… 

By god, they’d done it. 

Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldn’t look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny. 

Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video she’d stopped speaking words, so accent didn’t matter much.  But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin. 

It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost… the only link he’d visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit. 

God, if you told anyone about this… They’d tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted. 

But hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone. 

The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the man’s lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod. 

“Holy shit…”  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Price’s. 

Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. They’d been gone for a month and a half, and it’d been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world. 

It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus. 

Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-

“Just the bird we were looking for!” 

It was Kyle’s voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos he’d replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, “What’d the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.” 

A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god you’d bitten your nails to stubs or they would’ve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength. 

Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t.  Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Price’s chest. 

The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you. 

“Your intel was good.” It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, “They didn’t even see us coming.” 

“They never see you coming, that’s kind of your whole thing.” You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldn’t noticed. focus, focus, focus. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Price’s fingers. 

“Don’t be so modest, bonnie!” He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didn’t waver, “Couldn’t of done it without our lass in the chair.” 

“ ’nough, Johnny,” Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that they’d all but cornered you against, “Put ‘er down.” 

Soap’s laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, “ 'e’s right though. Intel was good.” 

They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew they’d seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnny’s tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.

“Glad to be of service.” You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didn’t). Jesus Christ, you couldn’t do this.  You couldn’t tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, “Enjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.” 

As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review. 

You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination. 

____

You’d gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long. 

“Morning, love.” It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat. 

“Looking good, bonnie,” He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, “Tired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a little… softer.”  

You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gaz’s ass, and he sure didn’t seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content. 

“Price wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.” Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction.   

“A present? For me?” You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, “It’s like Christmas.” 

“You been good this year?” Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, “Nah, she’s definitely been naughty.” 

Both Sergeant’s shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee. 

“I’m leaving now.” You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, “Y’all should shower. Or take a nap.” 

“You want us naked?” Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. “And in bed?” 

Now that was some imagery. Taking the lord’s name in vain you didn’t dignify that with a response other than a huffed, “Leaving now.” 

____

The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive. 

You could almost ignore how Price’s fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes. 

“Has a self destruct program that Gaz didn’t want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.” Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain. 

“What’s on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.” Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, he’d draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft. 

“So don’t screw it up, got it.” You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldn’t feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations.  He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later. 

“Precisely,” John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, “You won’t screw it up, love.” 

The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.

“I’m having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, I’m gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.” Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, “We want you to come. Couldn’t have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.” 

“Oh, uh-“ You started before you could think of a good excuse, “I’ll be really busy… with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, “This can wait.” 

“Files. Coding. Security checks.” You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured you’d have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if they’d been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. “I’m a little behind. Been… distracted lately."

“Everything all right, love?” He ‘asked’ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, “You’ve been… skittish, since we got back.” 

Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, “ ‘m fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. How’re you?” 

Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a desk… 

Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, “I’m fine, really.” 

“Either lie more convincingly or tell me what’s bothering you, sweet.”  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. You’d have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. You’d always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasn’t as easy to write off as ‘love’ or ‘bonnie’, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal. 

“I’m not bothered.” You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that you’d been thinking about way too much lately-, “Listen, I’m not judging, you’re grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that it’s my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didn’t know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-“ 

“You can tell 'em yourself. ’s your job, sweet.” Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected ‘firmly’ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, “At my place. Tonight. 8 o’clock. Not a request.” Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldn’t help but nod and squeak, “Yes, sir.” 

___

Part Two

Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)

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[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[kflixnet]

[MDNI] Check out our member June's oneshot!

for 1k.. mtl likely to completely melt when u go into subspace and say "thank you" after your orgasm? 💤

member — svt ot13 x gn reader  genre — mtl, fluff (18+) word count — 1.3k (each member has a paragraph) warnings — subspace (reader), just aftercare but there’s allusions to having sex (not explicitly described), implied that svt are dom/reader is a sub, all are gn except shua's uses “good girl” as a nickname notes — @junhuisms this has been in my inbox forever i'm sorry nhdnsjs. honestly i feel like all of them would melt but in slightly different ways so i did a little blurb for each. i hope you enjoy! <3

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most

1 - seungcheol

this man is the biggest simp on the entire planet and he would be so so good at taking care of you. i think it’s about 50/50 the amount of time he spends as a hard dom and a soft dom, but regardless of what activities you get up to he is the best at making sure you always feel good. he would melt the hardest on the nights he’s been a little meaner and a little rougher, because how can you be so sexy and so adorable at the same time, especially after you just came four times from his mouth alone? it boosts his ego so much not only that you trust him with all of yourself, but that you love him enough to say thank you afterwards? his day is made. his week is made. his whole year is made.

2 - seungkwan

he is absolutely obsessed with you. his reactions are always big whenever he's around you because he's so in love with you; you could be doing the most mundane thing in the world and he'd react like you just saved a burning building full of orphans and solved world hunger. he’ll melt over literally anything you do, but especially when you get that dopey smile on your face after you cum because your pleasure is his pleasure so your reactions only make him melt even more. he gets so caught up in how cute you are, he’d probably end up falling asleep with you tucked in his arms and forget to clean up.

3 - joshua

he thinks you’re just so adorable. most of the time he enjoys a little pushback when he’s fucking you; being a brat tamer is what gets him off, so he’s always making you beg him to let you cum. but he can never tease you for very long, especially on the times when you decide to be well behaved, so of course he has to reward you for being such a good girl for him. he lives on giving and receiving praise so he’d be thanking you too for letting him take care of you like this.

4 - mingyu

he completely melts. literally reduced to a puddle on the floor or the bed. he would get the biggest puppy eyes and be so pouty because he’s so whipped and he believes you shouldn’t ever have to do any work. he’s the one who needs to be thanking you, actually, because he's so honored that someone as beautiful and perfect as you decided to choose him of all people. he will give you anything and everything you could ever need because he doesn't want you to have a single care in the world, especially when you're being so sweet clinging to his arms. he may not be perfect but he's going to try his damn hardest to make sure he truly earns your thankfulness.

5 - jun

he’d start smiling and giggling, and he wouldn’t stop until you came back out of subspace. he would also get super clingy and hold you close to his chest and stroke your hair and grin uncontrollably. he’d give you the sweetest “you’re welcome” you’ve ever heard and just keep praising you for being so darn cute. he is the snuggliest boy and his aftercare would be the softest and best part of the whole experience.

6 - hoshi

everything about him is intense, especially when you’re in subspace. he fucks you hard and loves you even harder, so when you thank him after your orgasm it would make him so happy and he’d love you even more than before (if that’s even possible). he thinks your reactions are the cutest thing in the world and once you come out of that headspace he’d be begging for another round just so he can see you like that again.

7 - jeonghan

he’d mostly be cocky and proud of himself for making you feel so good, but deep down he'd be so giddy about your reaction. he doesn’t always explicitly say it or show it, but you’re so precious to him and all he really wants is for you to be satisfied and happy. he would absolutely tease you later about thanking him, but inside he’d be blushing and hoping it’s something that’ll become a habit of yours. he’s a fiend for praise and would want to get you there all the time.

8 - seokmin

he has hearts and stars in his eyes for you on a normal day, so it’d only increase when you’re in subspace. he’d get all blushy and embarrassed and tell you not to worry about it because it’s his job to make you feel good, so there’s no need to thank him. he’d wrap you up in blankets if you’re too cold and he’d put a cool washcloth on your forehead if you’re too hot and he’d coo over you with the purest little smile on his face.

9 - minghao

he gets so soft and he would be so gentle with you. even if he'd been a hard dom earlier, he'll flip on a dime as soon as he notices you in subspace. the responsible dom in him comes out and he tries not to dwell on how cute you look because instead he's busy making sure you’re feeling comfortable and safe and loved, bringing you water and helping you calm down. he’d melt at your reaction, but in more of a protective way because he’s not gonna let anything happen to his baby. 

10 - wonwoo

he wouldn’t not be into it exactly, but he wouldn’t have as much of a big reaction as the other members. he’d mostly be proud of himself for being able to satisfy you so well, and he’d be ready to give you whatever else you asked for or what you needed. he knows what his job is and he does it well. he smiles when he thinks you're not looking or when you aren't paying attention and the sight of you makes him feel warm inside.

11 - woozi

he wouldn't melt so much as he would just be fond of you. he’d smile at you, let you rest on his lap and play with your hair until you come back to him. he's usually quiet, not making a lot of noise unless you ask him to, but when you tell him “thank you” he'll hum and blush a little to let you know he's listening and that he appreciates you.

12 - chan

he would love it when you go into your subspace, but at the same time i think he would get a little panicky. it’s a lot of responsibility to take care of you when you’re so vulnerable, and he would be so focused on that that he’d forget to think about his own feelings. he would still adore you and how cute you are, but it would be more at the back of his mind.

13 - vernon

quite honestly i don't think he'd even notice when you're in subspace. looking back later he might realize you were suddenly acting a little calmer and a little clingier, but he wouldn't treat you any differently than he normally does. he loves you and thinks you're cute all the time, why would he be any different now? he's just happy to be along for the ride, but he won't deny it feels good to be thanked, even if he thinks he hasn't really done much.

least

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[ink-n-shadow]

Being knotted in John’s lap as he mumbles that he’s gonna breed you full of his babies right here in his office

(Or literally any of them bc 🫠🫠)

Or your boys rubbing their faces in your neck before they go to work in the morning bc they’ll be damned if they don’t go to work smelling like you

the second idea is so adorable heLLO???

SCENTING

𝜗𝜚 the one about how the pack!141 scents you (almost) every day

𝜗𝜚 pairing: packforce!141 x omega!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), scenting, kissing/sucking scent glands, fingering (reader!receiving), allusions to threesome at the end

it would become so routine and mundane for the five of you, something that came almost as natural to you as breathing.

the routine would begin at around 4 in the morning when john begins stirring in bed, mumbling out your name as his hands pat around the mattress and other bodies for you. once he found you (which was curled up with johnny, most of the time), he’d tug you against him, instinctively burying his face into the side of your throat and nudging your scent gland with the tip of his nose. he would lap at it, give it a bite or two, smother it in soft almost feathery kisses, anything to make your sugary sweet scent stick to his skin.

and once john’s had his fill and gets out of bed to amble downstairs for coffee and a cigar, simon’s coming up from behind, tugging your back against his chest and holding your throat in the palm of his hand as he immediately attaches himself to your gland. he’s more primal in his movements than john is, taking long (almost lewd) drawn out sniffs from your neck as he rubs his stubbled cheeks in the smell of you. (he may or may not dip his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, sliding through the wetness there before bringing his fingers up to lap at hungrily. but hey! at least he makes you come!)

seeing you whimpering and slack across the mattress is what makes kyle move over in bed, gathering your now jellied form into his arms and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. because kyle’s a beta, there is no scent gland for you to nuzzle into, but the smell of soap and lotion on his skin is enough to have you further relaxing in his arms, head still spinning and clit still throbbing beneath your underwear.

johnny only scoots over in the bed and cuddles up with you from behind when he notices the lack of body heat against him, making him whine sleepily and paw at the mattress until he finds you against kyle. by now, you’re drowning in the different scents covering your skin, not to mention the new scent of arousal and slick festering between your thighs. johnny finds comfort in them all, which immediately has his brain feeling dumbed and his cock twitching to attention.

if it’s not too late, johnny will let you ride him, with kyle in front of you and guiding your movements with his large hands pawing at your hips. if it is too late, then kyle’s drawing johnny out of bed with promises of a blowie in the shower

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