#also of course it's on the back of my thigh

[writingunderneathawillow]

His girls

summary: your two new kittens don’t get along yet and bucky works hard to convince you that it’s not the end of the world content warnings: one minor pet injury, lowkey crybaby!reader (very self-indulgent), fluff, cat shenanigans, alpine (loml) word count: 800ish a/n: my cats have been fighting a lot so i wrote this. i have also cried over them not getting along 

Black and white tufts of fur greeted Bucky as he unlocked the front door. The two colours mixed with each other on top of the hardwood panels in the entryway, along with a tipped over stand-up lamp – proof of another disagreement between two of his three girls.  This was not a rare occurrence. Alpine, the snow-coloured feline that he had saved from a thunderstorm not too many weeks ago, was a born leader – at least in her own eyes.  Your other kitten, a sleek black cat with green eyes straight out of a witchy fairytale, named Spooky, had a gentler disposition but was not fully willing to surrender to Alpine’s tyranny. Therefore, two or three territorial (play)fights erupted per week, leaving behind the occasional clump of hair and tilted furniture. Bucky groaned as he knelt down to pick up after his cats – he knew how much it bothered you to see them fighting, even when it was playful, and he wanted to get rid of the evidence. But then he heard a soft sniffle. Alarm bells went off and his back straightened instantly.  “Sweetheart?” He called out, tufts forgotten.  He stepped further into the apartment and saw that the bathroom door was slightly ajar. Bucky groaned as he knelt down to pick up after his cats – he knew how much it bothered you to see them fighting, even when it was playful, and he wanted to get rid of the evidence. But then he heard a soft sniffle. Alarm bells went off and his back straightened instantly.  “Sweetheart?” He called out, tufts forgotten.  He stepped further into the apartment and saw that the bathroom door was slightly ajar. 

“In here,” you replied, a soft nasality accompanying your voice.  Bucky closed the distance between himself and the bathroom in less than a few seconds and peered inside. Distraught. That’s the only way he could describe your appearance. Traces of barely dried tears glistened on your cheeks, the tip of your nose reddened and shiny. Alpine and Spooky sat at each side of you, and even though Bucky didn’t think cats were capable of looking guilty, they were both curled up at your thighs, almost comforting.  “Doll, what happened?” Bucky asked gently, kneeling down before you. His eyes travelled over every inch of your body, searching for hidden injuries or anything to explain your tearful state. “Look,” you exclaimed, pointing at Alpine’s pink nose. Now, all of Bucky’s senses were enhanced by the serum, allowing him to see what most others couldn’t so he should have been able to detect whatever issue you were pointing out. He narrowed his eyes as he bowed down to Alpine, helplessly looking for whatever had you so worked up.  “Sweetheart, what am I looking at?” He asked after a few moments of inspecting the white cat, struggling to find a single hair out of place (except the ones still lying in the entryway of course).  “Bucky, open your eyes. The scratches,” you mumbled, a fresh spill of tears glistening on your waterline.  He finally saw them. Three miniscule red lines, slightly angled, went across Alpine’s nose. They were so tiny that he probably would have spent the next hour searching for them if you hadn’t pointed them out. “Oh,” he muttered. Bucky had to take a deep breath to hold back his brewing laughter. “Is that why you’re upset?” He asked, desperate to keep his voice gentle and understanding.  You nodded, a mix of a sob and a mumble escaping from your lips. “Spooky scratched her.” The mentioned cat mewled at her name, headbutting your hand softly. Bucky wondered multiple times a day whether the cats were only pretending not to understand him in order to not have to listen.  “Sweetheart,” he began softly, “It’s really not that bad. It’ll heal in no time. And it was probably a good lesson for Alpine. We can’t let her turn into a full-blown dictator.” Not the words you wanted to hear – Bucky saw that in your eyes.  “But we can’t let Spooky grow into a bully either.” You sounded so troubled that it tugged at his heartstrings.  He reached out to grab your hand, squeezing it gently.  “Listen, they’re… they’re cats,” he mumbled but you interrupted him.  “They’re sisters – our babies. They have to get along.” He blinked a few times and then nodded more understandingly than he felt. “They will. But sisters fight and then they make up, hm?” 

Bucky pulled you into a hug and you rested your cheek against his shoulder, letting your runny mascara stain his shirt. “It’ll be just fine,” he muttered, gently stroking your back.  The universe must have been in a good mood that day because when he gently pulled away to continue speaking, you both heard soft purring. Alpine and Spooky sat curled up next to each other, slowly cleaning each other’s fur as if they hadn’t spent the last half hour trying to rip it out of one another.  “See, baby?” Bucky exclaimed, “They’re alr-,” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as you were already pulling out your phone, holding it just millimetres away from the cats to capture the moment. A wet laugh tumbled from your lips as you watched them with heart eyes. Bucky only shook his hand gently, his own face lit up with a small smile as he saw his three girls happy. 

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[starboye]

he tastes just like candy

you loved when jayce got in his little mechanic mood, working hard fixing up some new weapons and what noe because it was all the better when he got home, sweat dripping down his face and chest, the best snack of the day really

"hey babe" he walks through the door but can barely take anymore steps before you're throwing him on the couch and getting on your knees in between his wide open legs

"cant i just relax for a little before you pounce on me so fast he sighs with a little chuckle pulling down his pants, he already knew the routine by this point, he gets home all sweaty and you lick him clean

"well cant i just help my big strong man relax another way" you smirk kissing up his thigh, licking it all the way up to his soft cock, it smelt so good in all it's sweaty glory, yaking one hig whiff of the smell just had your mind floating beyond belief

laying a couple kisses on the tip before continuing kissing up his chest, making sure to run your tongue along every inch of his abs, licking each drip of sweat of him while jayce lets out satisfied groans and heavy breath, holding the back of you head with his hand to move you to where he wants it most

it was no surprise that you quickly made your way to inhaling the intoxicating scent of his armpits, the smell just had you spreading your legs wider and cock growing harder in your shorts, back arching hoping he'll get the message

and of course it would be so rude not to give his amazing biceps some attention, making sure to nibble and bite every inch of them while also giving them some soft kisses, and his pecs are just the best, flicking his nipples with your tongue while massaging them with your hands, so soft and heavy for you to play with

"fuck i think i love when you do this" jayce says throwing his hands behind his head "you think" you question spreading his thighs wider before lifting his heavy dick to sit on your face, it was a favorite of his and yours, you got to smell his musky dock even more and he just lived the sight of it, his heavy cock just sat right on your face, it was like the mona lisa to him

"you're right, i really love this" he slaps his dick on your cheek bringing a laugh out of the both of you "shower" he asks "definitely" you say walking to the bathroom, teasingly stripping off your clothes as you walked, after work shower sex was always the best

xoxo, starboye💋

taglist: @mailmango @boypied @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac @r0mcom-8ngel @bbibbiiu @tqrgaryenfilms

[linxnnalyn]

hai… can i request fem!mydei fucking shy fem!reader with her strap for the first time 😊😊 n reader is really whiny and lowkey pathetic for mydei

btw your layout is SO adorable i love the colour scheme sm 💗

Fem! Mydei fucking shy! fem! S/O with her strap for the first time

࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> I love Mydei she is a butch to me 🤭 also thank you I worked very hard on my blog theme !! I made this into a modern au just because I thought it fit the best :3 (also I'm specifically a MALE! MYDEI FAMILIAR YUME, fem! Mydei is fair game)

࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> NSFW !!

࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> fluff and smut, modern au, butch! Mydei, fingering, size difference, use of strap, hickeys/bite marks, aftercare.

۫ ꣑ৎ It is safe to say that Mydei is very excited about finally fucking you with her strap. She had purposely chosen to wait at least a few months after the two of you dating before she took you with her strap for the first time, knowing herself that she can be quite rough, and Mydei doesn’t want to accidentally hurt her precious girl.

۫ ꣑ৎ She makes sure that you are truly comfortable with this and that you can back out at any moment. Mydei does not want you to think that you have to do this and asks you multiple times if you are sure, she also makes sure that you have a safe word set just in case it gets too intense for you. Mydei would rather die than accidentally cause you pain.

۫ ꣑ৎ Mydei makes sure to first prepare you to take her strap by fingering you until you are soaking wet and have come on her hand multiple times. She adores the pathetic but shy and flustered expression you have on your face as she makes sure that you’re ready to take her strap. Hell she would even tease you and edge you just so she could hear your cute little whines.

۫ ꣑ৎ She likes how shy you get when you’re under her, completely exposed and vulnerable. Mydei has to admit that she loves how small you’re compared to her, and god the way your cheeks flush and the way you hide your face from her does something to Mydei. Mydei would playfully bite your thighs when you hide your face so you would look back at her.

۫ ꣑ৎ Once she is certain that you’re ready Mydei puts on the strap—one that she knows you would be able to take for your first time—and holding your thighs apart, making sure that you still want this, that you’re read and what the safe word was for the last time before she slowly, but gently, enters you.

۫ ꣑ৎ She doesn’t mind the fact that your nails are digging into her back as she lets you adjust. Mydei would prep your face and neck with kisses, muttering how perfect and divine you are as you adjust to the size of her strap. Mydei would only start moving after you give her permission to.

۫ ꣑ৎ At first Mydei’s peace is slow and steady, but soon enough her thrusts start to get rougher and faster, her face buried in the crook of your neck as she curses under her breath, addicted to the sounds of your whimpers and moans. Mydei almost completely loses control when you loudly moan out her name.

۫ ꣑ৎ Of course she wouldn’t fuck you too rough, the woman still has self control and doesn’t want to hurt you. Mydei has learned how fast and rough she can be with you, where all of your sweet spots are. Mydei plans to give you a mind-shattering orgasm when fucking you with her strap for the first time, and she did just that.

۫ ꣑ৎ Mydei starts to slow down once you cum, helping you come down from your high. Her voice is soft and gentle, praising you as she leaves trails of kissing on your neck and shoulders, even leaving a few hickeys and bite marks. Once you come down from your high Mydei gently pulls out, giving your temple a little kiss as you whine from how overstimulated you are.

۫ ꣑ৎ She would cuddle with you for a while, letting you catch your breath and recover a bit before she makes sure to clean the two of you up. Mydei tries her best to be as gentle as possible with you, quite a contrast to how rough she was moments before, but you can’t say that you mind—after all Mydei made sure to make you see stars.

[a99jazzybean]

What Happens in Vegas...

synop: You and your best friends Parker and Chance plan a fun trip to Vegas. Little did you know that the two are pining after you. Little do they know they're pining after each other. What will happen during your time in Sin City?

words: 6.5K

includes: chancexafab!reader, parkerxafab!reader, chancexparker, friends to lovers, fluff and smut, gambling, sexsomnia, slight dubious consent, thigh riding, squirting

a/n: This was just a fun lil idea I got since Vegas has games, ya know?

Also, this is smutty. No minors!

Beeping from the seatbelt-on sign has you blinking awake with a yawn. You lift your head off your friend's shoulder with a blush. Not realizing that you had leaned on him while you slept. 

“Sorry, Chance.” You said sheepishly. 

“It's no problem.” He gave you a soft smile. 

“You can just wake me up if I do that again.” 

“You seemed like you were in a pretty deep sleep, I didn’t want to wake you.” The smile on his lips then turned to a mischievous smirk. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?” 

Red fully bloomed on your cheeks, your mind raced at what possible things you could have said. Snickering from your other side had you narrowing your eyes. 

“What's so funny?” You nudged the partner on your other side in the ribs. 

“Hey!” He rubbed where you hit him. “He’s right though. You do talk in your sleep. And you snore!” He let out high pitched giggles at your expense. 

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.” You let out a frustrated huff, crossing your arms with a pout.

“So you’re not even gonna ask us what you said?” Chance raised a brow at you with a smirk. 

“Nope. Not interested.” You pointed your face in the air, attempting to ignore them. But their snickers had you deflating immediately. 

“You sure?” Parker asked in a sing-song voice. 

“Ugh.” You slumped in your seat again. “Fine, what did I say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Couldn’t catch it.” That damn smirk was still on Chance’s face. 

“Ugh! You guys are ridiculous!” 

“You don’t help yourself when you always give us those reactions!” Parker chuckled while poking you in the side.  

“Oh, I’ll get back at you. Then you’ll see, you’ll see…” You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to look menacing. 

“You kinda look like a fly right now! An evil little fly” Parker mimicked your motions while giggling. 

“You’re not so good-lookin’ yerself, considering you’re like…” You realized you didn’t have much of a good response. “Um, a goat! Yeah, a goat, with that skinny neck of yours and your bleating laugh!” You jabbed back, the beginnings of a smile threatening to reach your lips. 

Ah, the all-in-good-fun mean spirited banter. Something you wouldn’t give up for the world with your friends. Your playful cruelty played a major role in your friendship. Thankfully, it was never taken too far. 

“Alright, alright kids, why don’t we calm down.” Chance waved you down, eyeballing the disgruntled look from the person in front of him. 

“Do you need us to describe your features too?” You waggled your brows at him, Parker peeking up behind you with a smirk. 

“Of course not. I already know I have fantastic good looks.” He gave you a wink and dazzling smile. 

Leaning back to Parker, you spoke just under your breath. 

“I don’t know… seems kinda like a frog maybe?”

“Hmmm. Or a toad!” Parker narrowed his eyes at Chance. “Or a weird nerdy-looking bird.”

“Ooh I like that one.” You giggled. 

“A bird, goat, and fly walk into a bar. It’s got a nice ring to it!” Parker nudged you lightly. 

“You two and your cruelty. I prefer to take the high road!” Chance laid a hand on his chest demonstrating his poise. 

You and Parker shared a look, then snickered. 

“Don’t believe me?” He tapped his chin, studying you and Parker. “Let’s see…” He spoke your name warmly, making you feel butterflies. “I’d say you are quite the spitfire, cunning, and as pretty as a vixen. So my dear, you are none other than a fox in my eyes.” His eyes glimmered as he spoke of you.

You felt like you couldn’t say anything, mouth agape and cheeks red at the unique compliment. 

“And my dearest, rainbow haired friend.” He motioned to Parker. “You would be more akin to a bird than I. A bird of paradise that is. One that must use their wit and charm with a playfulness not seen in many. Demonstrating that you are the greatest through your unique abilities.” He gestured dramatically toward the man he was speaking about.

Parker was equally as dazzled as yourself. 

You supposed it should be expected from your friend. The improv aficionado he was always leaving you and Parker floundering. It was as if with a snap of his fingers he could form a finishing-move sentence that you couldn’t do anything to counter. Annoying, yet impressive. 

Looking back at Parker, you sighed in defeat. He nodded solemnly, understanding your current position in this impromptu battle of wits. 

“I take your silence as acknowledging my excellence?” Chance leaned towards you, gloating. 

“Sure, whatever. Take your trophy and leave.” You turned away from him, a smile playing on your lips.

“Ah, I love it when you accept defeat.” Chance wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder, jostling you against him. 

“Just you wait, I’ll get back at you.” You poked him in the side, hoping he would release you. Instead he just pulled you in further, trapping you against him. 

As much as you would hate to admit it, it felt nice to be wrapped up with him. Even if he was squeezing the air out of you. 

“Chance!” You squeaked out, then sighed when he finally let go. 

There was a brief disappointment at the lack of physical contact, but you shook it off. Best not to linger on that “what if”, especially because you felt equally for the other friend beside you. 

You, Parker, and Chance had been best friends since high school. Three nerds looking for camaraderie that happened to find each other in the sad excuse of a G&G club during your freshman year. It was run by the most stereotypical nice-guy type that was a senior. Which was very unfortunate for yourself. Sure, you knew that those types of people were in these kinds of spheres, but you hoped that a school in a more progressive area would be different. Alas, it was not. 

However, you were able to gain solace in the two that stood up for you. Chance who was extremely passionate about getting anyone and everyone to enjoy G&G and Parker who was pissed that the club president wasn’t following the school rules of including everyone in the organization. 

You three found it wasn’t worth it to try and fight the group, so you created your own. A significantly more inclusive club that invited all to play. It wasn’t just exclusive to G&G either. Parker being the boardgame nut that he was had you constantly trying out new games, or you supposed really old games that were new to you. He had quite the fondness for Parcheesi. Well, he had a fondness for most games. Especially their rules. 

Since you three had banded together from the start of your collective high school journey, you stuck together. Living through the typical teenage dramas and woes of the awkward years. There was one thing that the three of you had managed to side-step for over a decade of friendship: The fact that the three of you were extremely, deeply in love with each other. 

For you it started small. A little crush on your two friends, just chalked up to your ever changing hormones. Surely it would fade away with time, right? Wrong. It got worse and worse, or better depending on how you looked at it. 

Every compliment Chance threw your way, sticking in your heart like a thorn. His “perfects” were never ending, always said with a sparkle of admiration in his eyes. His constant hugs, so warm and comforting. Purely platonic, of course. 

Then there was Parker, always cheering you up when you were down. Coming up to you with a cheesy joke that would get you to crack a smile. Inviting you to play games with him whenever you seemed bored, always wanting to spend time with you. Purely platonic, of course. 

For Chance it started immediately. C’mon you were extremely cute, and liked G&G. It was like the heavens had granted him a gift. You allowing him into your life was a cherry on top of the dessert that was you. Then there were your deep late night chats, always mentioning how you always saw him in your future. The way you would grab his hand and drag him around to wherever you wanted. The feel of your touch leaving a blush on his cheeks. Though he knew it was purely platonic, of course. 

His crush on Parker started similarly. He never really thought about his sexuality. Then he met someone as equally enthused about games as he was, just like with you, it was very attractive. Plus Parker’s alternative style had made Chance… feel things.  It didn’t help that Parker appeared to enjoy his style too, always tossing a compliment when Parker saw him. That adorable dopey smile on his face. Purely platonic, of course. 

For Parker, it started slowly. At first he was just happy that he had friends. Then, oh but then, you actually listened to him. He could ramble about anything and everything, and whenever he turned to you, you would smile and nod, maybe adding your own input as well. The simple act of you listening had his heart soaring. There was also the way you would touch him. Tight hugs when saying goodbye, and the way you would play with his hair as he laid in your lap while rambling. Purely platonic, of course. 

And Chance, oh Chance. Parker appreciated his unabashed enthusiasm. Something they both shared. When Chance had confided in Parker about how it was him that actually gave him the confidence to be himself, well that had him swooning harder than ever. Then Chance would always find time for him. No matter what was going on in his day, he knew Chance would be there. Purely platonic, of course. 

Now, the three of you were sandwiched on a plane heading to Las Vegas. Sin City itself, full of rules, games, and released inhibitions. 

You couldn’t recall whose idea it was at first. It was likely collective. When you started planning it began with Chance excitedly talking about how he had learned how to play craps with one of his uncles. A quote “right of passage” since he could legally gamble. The conversation then moved to Parker excitedly talking about the rules and regulations around various card games. He specifically appreciated the rules surrounding black jack. When the conversation circled to you, you didn’t have much input. You had found you weren’t particularly the best at card games. When you had been dragged to the local casino for your birthday, you found yourself enjoying the penny slots the most. Well, Vegas had plenty of those. 

As the plane began its descent, Parker invited you to look out the window. He oohed and awed at the desert landscape with a backdrop of mountains. Plunked right in the middle was a bustling city. It was certainly a unique sight. 

“Oooh, I’m so excited!” He smiled brightly at you.

Parker hadn’t traveled much, so he was pumped to be traveling with his two best friends for his first major trip as an adult. 

“I’m so ready to be off this stuffy plane.” You sighed as you peered over Parker’s shoulder. 

You placed your head on the crook of his shoulder. Your breath tickled his neck as he shivered at the physical contact. Eyeing you to the side, Parker gulped. God, you looked so good. As you gazed out the window, you didn’t notice the man watching you. His heart rate picked up at your proximity. If only you saw him as more…

You turned back to Chance who was scrolling on his phone, his face in concentration mode. Brows furrowed as he sucked his tongue into his cheek. Like with Parker, you leaned your head in the crook of his shoulder. Watching whatever he was doing on his phone. Looked like he was viewing  your itinerary for the day. Ever the planner, Chance wanted to make sure your trip was both fun and efficient. You had managed to convince him not to plan out every detail, but it did take some arm pulling from you. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Chance asked. 

“Mmhmm. I love seeing how you’ve already booked us an Uber to the hotel. So sexy.” You teased with a kiss to his cheek. 

His face immediately bloomed red, making you giggle. It was so easy to fluster him. 

While you thought it was just Chance’s awkwardness that led to the reaction, it was really his response to your flirting. It was in your nature to tease your boys, you just hadn’t realized how much it actually affected them. Finding that they often turned red, made you assume it was just embarrassment. There was truth behind your flirting, but you managed to mask it as you having fun. Sprinkling in your feelings with plausible deniability. Perfect. 

After the plane landed, you all picked up your luggage and headed out to the parking lot for ride-shares. Chance pointed out a car that would be your ride to your hotel. Inside sat a cheery old woman. 

“Are you Amanda?” Chance asked, glancing at his phone then the car’s license plate. 

“Sure am! Chance?” She asked as she looked at her own phone. 

“Yup, that’s us. Mind popping the trunk?” 

You piled your bags in the back, and got in the car. Chance taking the front while you and Parker took over the backseat. All of you were buzzing as Amanda pulled out of the parking garage. On the radio oldies played quietly. Amanda decided to fill the awkward silence with small talk. 

“So what brings you to Vegas?” She asked with a chipper smile. 

“Uh, vacation?” Chance rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He was never good with this sort of thing. 

“Gambling, drinking, getting hookers, you know the deal.” You dropped in a joke. 

When Amanda chuckled at your attempt at humor you let out a sigh. Thankfully not a tough crowd. You could work with this for your ride. 

“So you two a couple?” She eyed you and Parker in the backseat through the rearview mirror. 

“Oh no! Just friends.” You plastered a smile on your face. 

“Right, just friends.” Parker echoed, a twinge of disappointment laced in his voice. 

“Are you dating them?” The lady asked Chance.

Chance grew red in the face, feeling sweaty all the sudden.

“Me? No, no. Also just friends. We’re all just friends.” He cleared his throat, feeling parched. 

“I see…” The woman eyed you all suspiciously. 

“Anyways…” You trailed, looking around the car for a conversation switch. Hanging from the mirror you spotted an interesting air freshener. “How bout them Raiders?” You pumped your fist across your chest. 

That seemed to have done it. Your driver going on a tirade about her local NFL team, and how disappointing they had been this last season. All of you nodded along. The only one of you in the car that had a modicum of understanding was Parker, and that was solely because of his hyperfixation on rules. Parker was shuffling in his seat, begging to blurt out something as Amanda was going off about how terrible the referees have been. 

“Oh, they’ve been making horrible calls!” Parker blurted. 

“Exactly!” Amanda clicked her tongue. “You, young man, are smart.” 

“Why, thank you!” He beamed at the compliment, proud his favorite thing managed to score him some social points. 

After about twenty minutes you arrived at the hotel. Amanda dropped you off at the entrance. You grabbed your bags and followed Chance inside. He marched up to the concierge desk, phone at the ready with the information he needed. 

As you entered the lobby, you and Parker gazed around the place. It was quite fancy. A place that you and your friends had paid a pretty penny for, but when in Vegas, right? Large columns stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Said floor was intricately tiled in black and white. Everything in the space felt very clean. 

Chance walked up to you and Parker, room keys in hand. You plucked yours from his hand, suddenly buzzing with excitement. Finally, you were on a real vacation with your friends! Something the three of you had been dreaming about doing for a while. Now you were starting your short adventure in Las Vegas. 

“The lady said that those elevators are to the hotel rooms and those,” He pointed to the right, “are to the casino and restaurants.” 

“Alrighty!” Parker exclaimed, bouncing on his toes. “Let’s get up, then get our gaming on!” 

“Actually,” Chance stopped him, “we agreed we would check out the strip first, and get dinner.” Parker slightly deflated, then perked back up. 

“No worries, we’re in Vegas, after all! There’s plenty to do 24/7!” 

Both you and Chance gave each other a look and a shrug. Your friend somehow always found a silver lining, even if things didn’t go his way. Immediately switching over to positivity rather than wallowing in the negative. A somewhat harmful sentiment, but Parker was Parker. 

The three of you made your way up to the room, watching as the elevator numbers climbed higher and higher in the building. 

“Wow, we’re pretty high up.” You noted. 

“Yeah, I thought we could get a better view of the strip that way.” Chance added. 

When you arrived on your floor, you headed down the hall to your room. Chance pulled out his room key, opening the door to your home for the next few days. Inside was a fairly typical hotel set up. Two queen beds, a desk, and a couch. You walked up to the large window and pulled open the curtains. Both you and Parker let out an “oooh” as you looked around. Chance was right, you got a great view of the strip from here. Though you could do without the Sphere. 

Looking behind, you saw Chance scrolling through his phone again. You walked up to him, pushing his phone down and leaning in toward him. 

“Chance…” You said in a sing-song voice. 

“Yes?” He looked at your hand covering his phone screen. 

“Why don’t you stop fretting over the itinerary, and take a look outside with us?” You motioned to the window.

“I just want to make sure we’re not late to our reservation.” He whined.

“Chance, what time is the reservation?”

“Six…” He knew where this was going.

“And what time is it right now?” You nodded to the alarm clock on the bedside table.

“Two-thirty…” He trailed, caught up once more in his planning. “I get it.” 

He followed you to the window, relaxing his shoulders as he took in the view. 

After a moment, you turned back to look at the beds. You hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements yet. It would probably come down to a game. However, you could try your luck.

“So, what’s the plan for beds?” You asked the boys.

“I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” Chance rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Chance, not planning? That’s a bit unheard of.” You walked over to one of the beds and plopped down. “Well, I’ll claim this one and you two can take the other.” You gave them a sweet grin. 

“Excuse me?” Parker chimed in, hands on his hips. 

“What? I think it’s the best way. You two have shared a bed before.” You pointed between the two of them. 

“Exactly. I know what he’s like in bed.” Chance huffed, crossing his arms. “He’s all elbows and knees.” 

“You don’t get to complain, you big cuddler!” Parker jabbed. “I can’t get a wink in without you suffocating me!” 

The small spat was entertaining to you. You couldn’t recall them ever being this passionate about sleeping arrangements before. 

Little did you know, this was something the two had planned out before the trip. Both Parker and Chance had confided in each other their crushes on you. Deciding not to fight over you, but see if you would be willing to share. For this trip, they really wanted to have an excuse to cozy up to you. They decided to come up with a fake argument to have you compromise with them. Their plan seemed to work.

“Okay, okay. I’ll sleep with one of you guys and deal with the elbows or cuddles.” You rolled your eyes at their dramatics. 

Both Chance and Parker held in their cheers, instead sharing a knowing look. 

“How do you want to do this? Rock, paper, scissors?” Your question made Parker light up.

“That sounds perfect!” 

Again, as part of their plan, the goal was to lose. In order to make sure you didn’t get suspicious of their antics. 

The men joined together with their hands at the ready. You hopped up to watch over the game. You grabbed their shoulders, putting on your best game-face on.

“Alright boys, I want this clean and fair. No funny business, got it?” You raised your brow at them. 

“Got it!” They said in unison. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” You shouted as they landed their first round. 

Chance managed to win. He pretended to enjoy it, but really put his game on. 

The second round had Parker winning.

“It’s a close match. After this round, winner takes all. By all, I mean the bed.” You looked between the two. “You ready.” 

Licking his lips, Chance nodded. Buzzing as he prepared his fist to play. 

The final round began, Parker was the winner. Though that meant that Chance was the actual winner. Parker did his best to hide his disappointment. 

“Guess I’m with the cuddlebug tonight.” You gave Chance a sweet smile that had his heart fluttering. “Tomorrow’s your night though.” You pointed at Parker. The man visibly lit up at the idea, which had you raising a confused brow. Quickly he composed himself with a nonchalant shrug. 

“You cuddle me too much, I will kick you in my sleep. It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” You narrowed your eyes at Chance who raised his hands in defense. 

“I will do my best to appease your bedroom comforts.” He chuckled. 

���Ugh, don’t say it like that.” You winced at his cringey sentence. 

“Why not?”

“I dunno, sounds like you’re planning on fucking me.” You chided them. 

Chance and Parker shared a knowing look. 

“What? No? Us? No?” Parker attempted to continue, but it was very awkward. 

“Riiiight.” You gave Parker a confused look, then turned your attention back to Chance. 

“Anyways… We should check out the strip!” You didn’t notice the two of them let out a sigh of relief at the subject change. 

“Sounds good!” Chance beamed at you. 

When you exited the hotel, you were hit with a shock of hot dry air. As your eyes adjusted to the bright afternoon sunlight, you looked over the bustling crowd of tourists making their way along the strip. Grabbing both Chance and Parker’s hands you dragged them along with you. A bright smile on your face as you looked at all of the kitschy sights around you. 

Before you could move further your friends were stopped by a man passing out cards. The two took the cards handed to them with confused looks. When looking at the card, Parker’s face turned bright red.  Chance’s face turned a similar shade of crimson. 

“Uh, oh gosh! I don’t think I’m supposed to have this!” Parker exclaimed, flapping the card around. Unsure of what to do with it. 

Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your hand for him to hand you the card. On it were two naked women with the names “Amelia & Roxie” in cursive text. You let out a cackle. 

“Oh Parker, you sweet, naive thing.” You pat him on the shoulder. “These are escort cards. Prostitution is legal in Nevada.” 

You looked at Chance who was equally as mortified. Again, you laughed. Offering your hand, you took his card as well.

“Did none of you know about this? It’s not called Sin City for no reason, though prostitution is technically illegal within Vegas…” 

“Of course I didn’t know! Do I look like the kind of guy who would hire a prostitute?” Parker asked you incredulously. 

“Do you want the real answer, or for me to be nice?” You teased. 

“Oh, you’ll pay for that.” He shoved a finger in your face.

“I’d prefer not to pay for an escort for you.” You bit your lip with a smile, enjoying how flustered you were making the man. 

“Aghh! Chance, they’re bullying me! Make them stop!” He pleaded with the other man.

Chance raised his hands up, backing away from the two of you.

“I’m staying out of this one. You should kiss and makeup, or something.” He nonchalantly coughed. 

“Haha! Chance just doesn’t want me to fuck with him too!” Your sights had switched to your big nerd.

“Whaaat? No? Please don’t?” His cheeks grew ruddy.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t want me to call…” you looked at the card that Chance had received, “Moxie?” 

Chance plucked the card out of your hand and dropped it into the nearest trash. Wiping his hands, he let out a satisfied huff. 

“Awww, you’re no fun.” You pouted. 

Parker flicked at your bottom lip. 

“Poor thing. Can’t embarrass us anymore!” 

You grumbled and waved him off, opting to join Chance as he continued to wander down the strip. 

The three of you continued walking, occasionally pointing to various eye-catching things. Parker chimed in with anticapitalist rhetoric on overconsumption.

“How many restaurants does Gordon Ramsey need until he’s satisfied?” He asked as you passed by another one of the chef’s businesses.

“I for one will gladly enjoy our culinary overlord’s menu options.” You joked. “Also, for someone making so much commentary on the consumer culture here, you seem pretty gungho to play card games.” You nudged Parker in the ribs. 

He shrugged his shoulders with a smug smile.

“Well I know that I can easily dupe the system.” 

“Is that so? Please elaborate, oh wise one.” 

“I will, since you asked so nicely.” He booped you on the nose. “You see, I can still follow all the rules of the casino, and still make it out like a bandit.” 

“You’re still giving the place money.” You gave him an unimpressed look.

“But I’ll be leaving with more!” 

“You seem overconfident.” You booped him on the nose this time. 

“As they say, confidence is key. And I have a lot!” He pressed his fist to his chest. 

“Okaaaay… if you say so.” 

The rest of the evening flew by. Chance treated you and Parker to a fancy dinner that he had reserved. Parker had you stop by a weed dispensary, making some personal purchases for himself. He offered to share with you later. 

When you returned to the room, you decided to get ready for bed. Entering the bathroom you let out an enthused noise. Both Chance and Parker popped their heads in to see what the hubbub was about. 

“Guys! Look at how big that tub is!” You pointed at the object, bouncing with excitement. “It could totally fit all of us!” You grabbed both of their hands and pulled them in with you.

You hopped in the empty tub, patting beside you. Shrugging his shoulders, Parker hopped in next to you. Chance decided to join as well, sandwiching you between them. Wiggling around you let out a giggle. 

“See, I told you we would all fit!” You nudged the both of them. 

“Are you wanting to take a bath with us?” Chance asked.

He couldn’t deny, he certainly liked the idea. He definitely wouldn’t mind entertaining it. You and Parker, naked and soaking in the tub with him. Humming to himself, he pictured how you would lean against his chest, skin to skin. Relaxing together in the warm water. It would be very nice. 

“I don’t think I’d mind it. It’d probably be pretty fun.” You smiled at the thought. 

You stood up in the tub and got out. 

“Now, I need to get ready, so out with you.” You motioned for them to exit the bathroom to allow you to finish up. 

When you exited the bathroom, you found Parker and Chance already in bed. Both had changed into their respective pjs. Which included them being shirtless. No big deal, you had seen them shirtless plenty of times. However, you had never slept in the same bed as them in that state of undress. It wasn’t a problem. In fact you liked seeing them in this state, but they didn’t need to know that. 

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at them till Chance looked up at you with a confused look. 

“Everything good?”

“Uh yeah! Sorry, kinda phased out there for a moment.” You waved him off, hopping into the bed beside him. 

The two had put on some old sci-fi movie on the television for background noise. Parker was scrolling on his phone while Chance had cracked open a fantasy novel. All of you fell into a comfortable silence as you felt yourself begin to drift. You attempted to watch whatever was on the tv but kept slowly blinking your eyes closed. 

Chance noticed your attempts to stay up with a smile. Placing a warm hand on your face, he rubbed your cheek with his thumb lovingly. 

“You don’t have to try and stay up, you know.” He said softly. 

“Mmmm, but I don’t wanna miss out on anything.” You leaned into his touch. 

“Go to bed, we’ll be here in the morning.” He said your name softly before leaning in to give you a kiss on the forehead. You melted into the affectionate action.

In the other bed, Parker held in a scoff. Feeling the prickles of jealousy on his skin. 

Soon enough, you were fast asleep. Little snores escaping you as you dreamed deeply. Chance found it adorable, and soon found himself drifting as well. As he closed his eyes, his warm arms encircled you, pulling you to his chest softly. In your sleep you snuggled up against the man, wrapping your leg around his thigh. 

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

“Ah! Chance!” You felt a hot pair of lips press against your neck, making you shiver. 

His large warm body was holding you from behind. His hand playing with you under your waistband. Thick fingers sliding through your soaked folds and circling around your clit. You squirmed in his arms, making him pull you tighter against him. The fingers toying with you moving harsher, making you cry out as sparks of pleasure shot through your body. 

“You close?” He huffed a hot breath against your neck. 

Behind you he ground his clothed cock against your ass, letting out a low groan. Fuck, he felt big. You could already picture yourself being spread deliciously around his thick cock. It had you moaning as one of his fingers plunged into your wet heat. 

“Mmmph! Oh!” 

Peeking your eyes open, you realized another body had joined you. Parker was now pressed against your front. His long fingers playing with your nipples as his nose pressed up to yours. Naturally, you pressed your lips against his. He groaned into the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to move against yours. Over your shoulder, Chance watched with hungry eyes. His hips pressing harder against you. 

“Gosh, you taste so good.” Parker breathed out as you pulled away.

“Want a different taste?” Chance asked lowly.

He pulled his fingers from your sex, making you whine at the loss of contact. Parker opened his mouth for Chance’s fingers. Eyes rolling back as he tasted your slick with a moan. 

“Oh wow, you just taste good everywhere…” Parker pressed his lips back to yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

From behind, you felt Chance sliding your sleep shorts down. His own boxers followed, making his hot cock flop out against your ass. Oh he really was thick. He lifted your leg, sliding his cock between your thighs up against your pussy lips. He groaned at the feeling of your slick heat against him. Chance began to slide back and forth, the head of his cock catching on your clit. 

You gasped against Parker’s lips as Chance fucked between your thighs. Then you moaned as you felt Chance press against your entrance. The blunt head of his cock pushing past that first ring of resistance easily with how soaked you are. You cried out at the feeling, your pussy pulsating around his length. 

“Fuck, so tight.” Chance groaned. 

He pressed further into you, the tip smushing against your gummy sweet spot. It had you keening, pressing your chest against Parkers. 

“They’re such a mess.” Parker said in awe. “You haven’t even fucked them yet.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. 

Chance lifted up your thigh, giving Parker a good look at your drooling pussy wrapped around his thick length. The sight had Parker shivering. His hand trailed down to your sex, joining Chance to please you. 

The two whispering sweet nothings and dirty words as Chance began to pummel into you. Hips snapping, forcing his cock to press against your sensitive walls over and over again. 

“Chance!” You whimpered into his chest. The man watched you with wide eyes. Thighs wrapped his own as you dragged your clothed sex over the muscle. 

He woke up a few minutes ago to you calling his name. Humping his leg while you slept and dreamt. 

Through your sleep shorts you were soaked. Your wet heat spreading against his thigh as you continued to fuck yourself against it. Little whimpers and moans escaped you as your body chased after the pleasure. 

Chance didn’t know what to do. Sure, this was really hot. So fucking hot. However, you were asleep. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to you using his body like this. 

With how loud you were being, Parker stirred awake. Hearing movement  from behind, Chance glanced over his shoulder. Catching the worried look in his friend’s eyes, Parker shuffled out of the bed. While trying to move himself to not wake you, Chance inadvertently pressed his thigh harder against you. You sobbed out a moan, your movements growing fast and sloppy against him. 

Parker walked over, eyes widening as he saw the scene laid before him. Moving his hands up and down, he looked to reach for you or Chance, but just let them drop in exacerbation. He was just as lost as Chance. 

“How long have they been doing this?” Parker whispered to Chance.

“I don’t know, I only woke up like five minutes ago. So at least that long.” He whispered back, careful not to wake you. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked Parker.

“Wake them up?” Parker suggested with a questioning shrug. 

“I don’t know if I should…” He watched as you continued to press against him. 

At this point your whines and moans were constantly tumbling out of your mouth. You were soaking his thigh with your slick. 

“I think they’re pretty close…” He let out a soft grunt. 

Fuck, he was really fucking hard. Your body would occasionally rub against his straining length, making him shiver.  

“Are you just going to let them finish?” Parker asked, worry laced in his voice. 

Looking at you, he had to admit, this was really hot. However, he was in the same boat as Chance when it came to the ethics of the situation. Sure, you were clearly enjoying yourself. However, you were asleep. Completely unaware of what was going on outside of whatever dream you were having. Likely a very sexy dream… Wait, no, he needed to stop thinking about that. 

“I feel like it’s the nicer thing to do?” Chance responded to Parker. 

His jaw was tight as he did his best not to moan in response to your movements. It might be bad, but he was enjoying this quite a lot. If only he could know what you were dreaming about. His question was quickly answered. 

“Mmmph, Chance!” You cried out, body shivering. “Ah, yes!”

Locking eyes with Parker, Chance felt his face burning. HIM, you were thinking of HIM? It was decided, he would let you finish what you started. 

As he continued to watch you grinding against Chance, Parker felt that prickle of jealousy return. He wondered if it would be different if you had fallen asleep with him instead. Would you use him like you were using Chance, and would he let you? That was an easy answer, of course he would. Both men wanted you desperately, your current unconscious behavior was a wild dream come true. 

In your belly you could feel a familiar heat building up. Each grind of your clit against Chance’s thigh making it burn hotter and hotter. So close to reaching the peak. 

With a whimper, you cried out. “Parker! D-don’t stop!” 

Both men’s eyes widened again. Chance looked up at Parker who was now very red in the face. You wanted BOTH of them? At the same time? Oh, this was just getting better and better. 

Now they really wanted to know what was going on behind your tightly shut eyes. 

Your sopping cunt had soaked Chance’s thigh. Each grind of your pelvis had you pressing against Chance’s hard cock. He hissed a particularly harsh thrust, doing his best not to thrust back against you. It was one thing for you to ride his thigh when you didn’t know you were doing it, it was another for him to actively participate with someone unconscious. 

So close, your peak was just on the precipice. 

Chance’s hard cock pummeled deep inside you. Each thrust makes you hiccup sobs. Parker’s fingers circled your clit, shooting pleasure through you. Both men bring you pure ecstasy. The two encourage you to cum around Chance, knowing he would fill you up so well when you did. A final flick and deep thrust had you coming undone with a cry. 

You let out the lewdest moan as your body froze against Chance. Thighs shaking as they clenched around his. Chance let out a low groan as he felt you release on his thigh with a whimper. As you came down from your high, your hips softly ground against him. 

Chance and Parker looked at each other wide eyed. Faces red at what they had just witnessed. Both extremely hard, and unsure of how to handle that. 

In Chance’s arms, you began to stir. Making the men’s eyes widen even more. What the fuck were they supposed to do now? You just squirted on Chance’s thigh. Your moans practically a confession that you wanted them. 

With a content hum, you blinked awake. Finding yourself in Chance’s arms you snuggled into his chest. Against his skin you could feel his heartbeat racing. That’s odd… Looking up, you saw Chance and Parker staring at you. They looked horrified. 

Realization slammed into you like a train. Between your legs you felt Chance’s thigh. Your sleep shorts were completely soaked. 

Oh Fuck. 

[angeltees]

love bites, will smith

pairing will smith x hughes!fem!reader warnings smut, mentions of public sex (in a lake), pda, hickeys, oral (m), established relationship wc 2.1k

the drink clutched loose in your hands did nothing to cool your overheated body in michigan's humid summer air. but when you saw your boyfriends shirtless body sitting comfortably next to your brother's, all four of them deep in a conversation about what you could only assume was hockey, a cold shiver ran throughout your body. 

your mouth watered when your eyes automatically trailed down and caught sight of will’s spread legs. his bare, and extremely inviting, thighs seemed to glimmer in the light, his sweat reflecting deliciously enough for you to completely change your course of direction. 

before, you were thoughtlessly wandering towards the lake, nothing but the heat on your mind. but now, all you could think about was your boyfriend, and how his thighs would taste between your teeth. 

you were nothing more than a clumsy pile of joints when you dropped down on the grass in front of him, your hands barely catching your weight due to how eagerly one of them reached for will’s calves, and wrapped around his ankle was an impressive grip. the other still holding your drink.

you let out a small groan when your drink spilled against your bathing suit bottoms whilst you nestled your body further between his legs. 

will watched in quiet amusement as you lay your head back far enough to look at him upside down, your hair pooling on the leg that your head was mounted on.

he leaned down to press an upside down kiss to your lips, the contact lasting only a few seconds due to the company beside you. and when he pulled back, he was stuck in a spell.

even though your skin was visibly a different tint with enough sweat to prove your exhaustion, you were a vision of everything will’s ever wanted.

your lips pulling down into a drunken pout, and your eyes were wide as can be as they cartoonishly blinked up at him. 

“hm, baby? what happened?” will ran his hand across the top of your damp hair, his fingers ghosting over your forehead when he nimbly pushed your baby hairs back and off your forehead.

your lips turned up from their previous pout, the earlier spill completely leaving your mind the second your boyfriend's warm hands, and lips, finally touched you. 

“m’so hot, i feel like i could-“ you were cut off when your brother, jack, cut in, “jump my boyfriend's bones in front of my brothers?” his voice was botched and at a high enough pitch where it was almost offensive.

even though that wasn’t what you were necessarily going for, you perked up with a childish nod. you momentarily lifted your head from will’s knee to face jack, the hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around his ankle moved to point up at him from around your drink.

but it seemed that you’d forgotten about how filled it was, and it once again splashed on you. the only difference was that time, it got on both your and will’s legs.

will, being the good boyfriend he was, didn’t care about the cold splash too much. he didn’t flinch away, nor did he raise his voice. he only laughed out a slightly louder chuckle than he probably should’ve, and gently nudged your leg with the foot you had pushed beneath it when you sat with him.

“that’s exactly right! how’d you know?” the boys surrounding you laughed at your slurred voice and over-excited cheer. “did you read my mind? or-“ your voice cracked when a small hiccup forced itself out,  “did you also see how yummy his legs look when they’re all sweaty?” 

at this point, your decorum must’ve been completely out the window because the way you ignored all the eyes staring at you and shamelessly licked a line across the muscle that ran across his upper thigh, the same one that caught your attention earlier, was insane. and in all your brother's humble opinions, extremely disgusting. 

“dude, what the actual fuck?” jack’s voice was loud when he gagged at the scene, your other two brothers turning away as fast as they could. 

“there’s no way she just did that.” luke’s voice was unstable, and his cheeks were flushed red and whether it was from the sun or embarrassment, he didn’t know. 

all he knew was that he never wanted to see it again. ever. 

quinn stayed quiet but everyone noticed the way he couldn’t look you in the eye for the next few minutes, his eyes downcast in favour of staring at the beer can he held on top of his trunks.

but you, you didn’t care. not when you finally had will’s taste coated in your mouth. a small noise vibrated will’s leg where your mouth was pressed against it, your eyes closing as if you’d just tasted the most delicious meal imaginable.

and to you, it was. you didn’t care that it tasted slightly salty from his sweat with faint traces of your lotion, one that will still clearly thinks he sneakily steals from your shared room every morning. but it tasted like him, and that was what you loved. 

will to the best of his credit, with his hand this pressed against the top of your head, tried not to twitch. he appeared calm on the outside, but you felt the way his leg tensed under your tongue. but when he didn’t pull away, you continued. but this time, you did it more discreetly than before. 

since will was sitting furthest away from your brother’s, you shifted so your back was faced towards them. so even if they happened to glance over they’ll see nothing besides will’s hand lovingly caressing the top of your head.

the conversation shifted after another beat of silence, everyone waiting for you to settle in again before continuing. you weren’t sure what exactly they were talking about because to you their voices just sounded like a jumble of noise. 

noise that was loud enough to cover the quiet smacks that were caused by your lips sucking against will’s skin. over, and over.

after covering the expanse of skin that was near his knee, you leaned deeper in between his legs to reach higher. due of your new position facing the other way, your arm ached from to the awkward angle. and as much as you wanted to keep holding your boyfriend's ankle, it wasn’t ideal. 

so, you dropped your drink and moved both arms to wrap around will. one moved up and circled his bare waist, you momentarily stopping to purposely graze your nails along his rib cage. just enough to feel him shiver. and the other pulled his leg up so his heel was moved to press against your outer thigh.

and once the back of his leg settled against you, you moved it to his knee to rub small circles against it as you continued your ministrations.

by the time another ten minutes passed you already sucked marks all along his entire inner thigh. but not dark enough to bruise for longer than a few days. 

it was unfortunate that quinn chose that moment to stand up and stretch out his back to prepare to walk back inside to get another beer. because right when he turned to look at you, he saw it. all of it. 

he stood frozen with his mouth wide open and eyes crinkled in disgust. jack and luke followed his gaze after quinn didn’t respond to their question of also getting them a drink. and just like earlier, they spiralled. 

jack being the ever-dramatic brother he was reacted first.

“will, dude. what the hell? you’re just letting her sit there and snack on your leg?” will just shrugged as if it wasn’t insane. but his lack of silence only made the boys freak out more. 

“yeah, no. the lack of response says it all. she definitely does this on the regular.” jack bumped his shoulder into luke’s, his voice louder than before when he screamed out a loud and repetitive no.

quinn simply shook his head once before he walked away faster than his usual pace, not stopping once whilst screaming over his shoulder, “jack, luke, unless you want to never look at our baby sister the same way again, i highly suggest you also leave.” after he said that, they weren’t far behind.

once will was sure they were all inside, he lightly took a fist of your hair. “baby…” will’s voice was low even though your brothers were already in the house and you both were certain that they weren’t going to take a chance in coming back. 

you pulled your mouth away from its spot directly beneath the hem of his trunks in favour of lovingly smiling up at your shy boyfriend. “what? it’s not like they can see us?” your kittenish purr has the effect you were hoping for because will’s bottoms evidently twitched near your face. 

your body filled with the same feeling you got when you first saw the way his body looked in the sun earlier. will’s hold on your hair barely stopped you from nosing against the tent in front of you, your eyes looking up to watch his reaction. when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth you sent him a wink.

“you’re being really bad right now.” will’s voice had a newfound bite to it, his eyebrows furrowing the longer you acted out in front of him. he knew you were acting this way to get a rise out of him, in hopes of him losing his mind and giving you exactly what you wanted. 

and if anyone asked you, it was working because will’s hand was quick to move down to grip your chin with all five fingers. you leaned into his hold like it was your lifeline, your eyes momentarily closing to soak in the feeling. 

“m’sorry, i just…” your eyes opened before you turned your head to press a few small kisses against his palm, “missed you so much.” will flinched when your teeth pressed a bite a little bit too hard. yet, he didn’t move.

“you missed me? baby, you’ve been sitting here pressed against me, sucking against my thighs in front of your brothers for the last twenty minutes.” 

“yeah, it’s because i missed you.” will open-mouth smiled just enough for you to see his front teeth peeking through. “or is it because you were hot and got horny seeing me sitting here looking this good?” will was teasing you, and you did nothing more than lean into it. 

“i may have gotten a bit horny…” you pinched your fingers close together in an exaggerated demonstration, finishing the whole piece with your eyes squinting closed as if you could barely see them. 

will nodded, a little more seriously than before, “right, that’s why you’re trying to get into my pants. in front of your brothers.” you whined out loud and tried to pull your face away from his hold, but he just sat up a bit straighter so he can still reach you.

“can we stop bringing that up?” will didn’t respond, being too busy gazing at your face, his cheeks lighting up with a blush again. though, as much as he would’ve loved to look into your eyes, he couldn’t due to your gaze being directed directly at his boner. 

but your voice brought him back the way it always does. “so like… are you going to let me suck your dick before you fuck me in the lake?”

will’s eyes raised incredulously, “the lake?” you nodded. “mhm, since you clearly don’t want my brothers hearing us.”

“right, because the lake is just so much better.” 

“i’d ride your dick right here, right now, will. it doesn't have to be in the lake.” will pretended to think about it, “i think the lake would be a better choice. yanno, for body regulation.”

you mirrored his exact nod, your eyes confident in your decision, “exactly! wouldn’t want us to overheat, especially considering the fact that you run hot.” your hands left their position to grab his trunk's waist band, not so gently giving them a tug. 

he lifted his lips high enough for you to pull them down his legs, your body shifting back far enough to where where they won’t get caught in your tangled limbs.

you looked up at will for his nod of confirmation, you sitting there all pretty and patiently waiting for him to give you his consent. and when he did, you pressed a sweet, delicate, and wet kiss against his leaking tip. 

you followed it with a small lick, once on top, and another down his length. when you got to his base you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him another bite against the spot between where you licked and where his thigh connects.

instead of flinching, his head just tilted down to his chest, his chin stopping centimeters away from it. “you’re so good for me, baby.” his sweet voice deepened at the exact moment your mouth sucked him in, your tongue sliding against his most prominent vein. 

“a-always s’good.” 

[letthemkook]

Ｔ𝑒Ｔⓗ𝑒ⓡ kim taehyung (two)

Pairing: Yandere!Kim Taehyung × MC (Childhood Friends to Arranged Fiancés)

Themes: Arranged marriage, childhood friends to possessive obsession, elite society and wealth, power imbalance and control, spoiled heroine with overindulgent dynamic, slow-burn to dark sexual awakening, psychological tension, and emotional dependency.

Genre: Dark romance, psychological drama, smut, coming-of-age with elements of emotional and sexual growth, and subtle slice-of-life.

Warnings: Yandere behavior including obsessive love and possessiveness, emotional manipulation, blurred consent in both emotional and physical contexts, themes of privilege and dependency, SMUT (18+)

Intro: Taehyung has always been there. Watchful, constant, impossibly close. As the promise of your arranged marriage looms, you begin to see the truth behind his steady gaze. He was never just waiting; he was claiming.

taglist: @hkplushier @darkuni63 @cheeserialover @calmyourtitts7 (there were others but for some reason it won’t let me tag them.

———-

The morning after, everything is quiet.

Too quiet.

Taehyung is already awake when you blink your eyes open. He’s lying on his side, propped on one elbow, just watching you. Calm. Steady. Like he never even slept.

You try to pull the blanket up higher, suddenly self-conscious. You don’t know how much he felt. How much he knows.

But the look in his eyes says: everything.

He says nothing. Just reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.

“You slept well?” he murmurs.

You nod stiffly.

He smiles. Like you’ve agreed to something.

When you two return for your trip, school is the next day. Your nerves are eating you alive. Everything with Taehyung is the same, but also completely different. Why did you feel differently for him now?

The ride to school is silent. His hand rests on your thigh the entire time. No words. No questions.

Just heat. His hand is warm on your thigh, you notice.

When you step out of the car, your friends are waiting. You try to wave, act normal—but your face must say too much.

Because the moment Taehyung disappears into the admin office, they pounce.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Jia says.

“Or like you slept too well,” Mina mutters, squinting at you.

You blink. “What?”

“You didn’t answer a single text all weekend,” Sujin says. “And now you show up wearing his hoodie?”

You glance down, startled.

You didn’t even realize.

It smells like him—of course it does.

And that’s when you realize it’s not just that you’re different now. You’re marked.

Not physically. Not obviously. But the change is written in the way you stand. The way your breath hitches when someone brushes too close. The way your eyes flick unconsciously toward any door Taehyung might walk through.

You’re alert in a way you weren’t before.

Your friends stare at you for a long moment.

Finally, Mina says gently, “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth. Close it.

What do you even say?

That you had a dream about him so vivid your body responded before your mind did?

That you tried to leave—and he pulled you back?

That you’re scared, but also something deeper… and darker?

You shake your head. “It’s complicated.”

Mina’s voice softens. “Does he know you’re uncomfortable?”

Your chest tightens. “I don’t know if I am.”

That silences all of them.

And then, as if summoned by your uncertainty, Taehyung appears behind you, sliding his arm around your waist with practiced ease. He kisses the side of your head in front of everyone.

You stiffen.

He doesn’t.

“You left your lip balm in my car,” he murmurs. “I brought it.”

You nod.

Your friends stare.

You stare off, and contemplate what to do with these new feelings, the new curiosity for Taehyung that haven’t been there before. Or perhaps were they always there, just unearthed by the events of your trip? That you’d finally started seeing him as a man, just like he’d always hoped?

Why did that sound so bad to you?

—-

It gets harder to hide.

Not just from your friends. From yourself.

Taehyung doesn’t change much, not outwardly. He doesn’t need to. The shift is in the confidence—how boldly he takes your hand in the hallway now, how his fingers trail along your lower back when he walks behind you, how he murmurs your name low and quiet into your ear just to watch you shiver.

And he still does everything.

That hasn’t changed.

He still carries your bags, handles your schedule, picks up your favorite snacks before class even starts. When you forget your umbrella, he appears under the overhang with one already open. When your shoelace comes undone, he crouches in front of you in the middle of the hallway and ties it himself.

“Sit still,” he murmurs, glancing up with a small smirk. “You’d trip without me.”

You try to joke about it, say, “Maybe I need to learn to do these things on my own.”

But he just tilts his head. “Why?”

He’s always two steps ahead of you—handing you a pen before you realize you forgot yours, pulling your chair out before you sit. He even speaks for you sometimes when you go too quiet, ordering your lunch, fielding questions from teachers, intercepting overly friendly classmates with just a look.

Your friends watch it all like it’s some slow, inevitable possession.

And it is.

Because you’ve stopped pushing back.

You tell yourself it’s just easier that way. That there’s comfort in familiarity. But the truth is harder.

You like it now.

You like when he slips his hand over your thigh beneath the table. When he zips up your coat for you, knuckles brushing your collarbone. When he murmurs “good girl” under his breath after you eat something he brought.

You like the way your stomach flips when his gaze drops to your lips mid-conversation, like he’s thinking about kissing you but wants you to ask first.

And then one day, you forget your student ID and nearly panic outside the testing hall.

Taehyung appears beside you before you even text.

He hands the proctor your ID.

You blink. “How did you—”

“You left it in your other bag,” he says, brushing invisible lint off your sleeve. “I moved it this morning.”

You stare at him.

He smiles. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I already do that for you.”

You look at your ID. At his hand, still on your arm.

And you don’t pull away.

——

The only sense of normalcy with your emotions comes out that day in the form of, what would seem in the eyes of others, a tantrum.

The courtyard is bright, buzzing with chatter from the upper-classmen table clusters. The air smells like espresso and cherry blossoms, and your tablet gleams in the sun as you scroll through high-res photos of the Amalfi Coast villa.

It’s perfect.

You turn the screen toward Mina and Sujin, smug. “Look. Ocean view. Private beach. Two balconies. The host knows my last name and said she’d reserve it early if we book by next week.”

They both lean in, eyes wide.

“This is insane,” Mina breathes. “Imagine the photos.”

“I already marked the week,” you say, sipping your cold brew. “We’ll book the villa, use the yacht for two days, do the silk market run and maybe a spa circuit in Naples?” You turn to Taehyung, almost for support, and smile with raised brows. Like he had just given you a shiny new toy and you were excited to share it with your friends.

Taehyung, seated beside you with one hand lazily tracing along your chair’s backrest, finally speaks.

He hums low. Thoughtful. “My father mentioned travel disruptions in that area.”

You pause, tension prickling. “What kind of disruptions?”

“Temporary restrictions,” he says, careful with his tone. “Some political delays, permits. We might not be able to access that region.”

You blink. “We might not?”

“There’s been an issue with that region,” he says smoothly, tapping a message on his phone. “Some kind of political turbulence. My father mentioned a temporary travel ban for foreign students. Border access is limited.”

You pause mid-sip. “What?”

He looks up. “It might not be safe.”

You blink at him. “But I want to go there.”

“I know,” he says evenly, eyes on you. “But—”

“No,” you interrupt, setting the drink down. “That’s the villa. There’s no other version of the trip.”

He leans forward slightly, fingers threading together. “It’s not a matter of preference, it’s a government restriction. The Italian embassy—”

“You always say that,” you cut in, louder now. “*Restrictions, policies?*since when have those ever stopped your family?”

Jia and Sujin stiffen. Taehyung’s fingers pause.

You keep going.

“I don’t care if it’s temporary. Call your father. Talk to the embassy. This is the one thing I’ve asked for this year.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches.

“Y/N, I understand your excitement, but even I admit there’s some things I can’t change in one day. Not to mention my concern for your safety.” He replies quietly.

You blink. “What’s your point?”

Mina coughs awkwardly. “We can do a different trip—”

“No, we can’t.” You turn back to Taehyung, ignoring your friends. “I’m not going to some third-choice backup resort just because your dad’s scared of a travel memo. I want that villa. You said I don’t have to worry about things. So fix this.”

You don’t yell, but your voice is sharp now. Commanding. Familiar.

The silence afterward is heavy.

Jia stirs her drink awkwardly. Mina’s eyes flick between you and Taehyung.

He meets your stare. Calm. Controlled.

“I’ll talk to my father. See what can be moved.”

You scoff. “See? You always do. Just—do it.”

There’s a beat of silence.

And then Taehyung’s voice turns smooth—just loud enough for the others to hear.

“You know I’ll do what I can to fix this for you.”

Relief slips into your shoulders. That’s more like it.

But then he leans in.

Close. So close your hair brushes his cheek.

His lips hover beside your ear, barely touching.

“But I’m going to want something too now,” he whispers. His voice is silk. Dangerous.

Your heart stutters.

He pulls away with a pleasant smile like he’d said nothing at all.

Your friends chuckle nervously, pretending not to notice the shift in your expression.

“God,” Sujin mutters under her breath, “you two talk like a married couple already.”

You can’t even laugh.

You glance down at the tablet. The villa still gleams under the sunlight, waves crashing against white stone.

It would be everything you wanted.

And you’re going to get it.

But now you’re wondering what he wants in return.

And whether you’ll be able to say no when he comes to collect.

——-

The travel ban still hasn’t lifted.

It’s been over a week since you asked Taehyung to fix it—no, told him to—and every day that passes without an update feels like another insult. You’ve already started seeing the villa on your socials, booked by some other heiress with worse taste than you. You can’t even look at your tablet without getting angry.

And Taehyung’s silence on the matter?

Infuriating.

He said he’d fix it. And yet here you are. Waiting. Waiting.

You don’t scream. You don’t cry. That’s not your style. You’re still sweet. Still polite. Still well-mannered. But you wonder if he’s doing this to purposely test you. Overrides, political issues, campaigns were taken care of by his family in a shorter amount of time. Why was he so resistant to completing this, what you deemed trivial, issue for you?

You involved your parents in the matter but it wasn’t in their capacity or jurisdiction. This is where you needed Taehyungs family name. And of course your parents came to the same conclusion you did,

“I’m sure Taehyung should be able to fix this for you.”

But you stop answering his messages.

You sit at the far end of the table during lunch. You walk to your classes before he can meet you. You ask the driver to take you home instead of riding in his car. You’re not dramatic about it—you’re measured. Graceful. But distant.

He was reluctant to let you have your childish rebellion at first, but at your disdain he was only left with the choice to give you your space.

He starts allowing other people to join him for lunch, just stares at his assignments during like nothing is wrong, walks past you in the hall with only a passing glance.

It infuriates you. Like he thinks you won’t actually stick to your silence.

You want him to feel the absence.

And for the first time in a long time, you try to handle things on your own.

It goes poorly.

By Tuesday, you’ve missed multiple deadlines for papers extensions, and without the Kim family influence to back you up deadline extensions were out of the question, because it wasn’t YOUR family that decided to donate millions to this school. Just how many things scraped by for you just by using Taehyungs last name?

Your cards don’t work, your appointments are scattered, and it only just occurred to you how much you actually had going on without someone letting you know where you needed to be. You felt like an idiot, useless, so angry that you couldn’t do trivial things that people did every single day. But how could you?

Everything had been done for you since you could walk.

On Wednesday, your phone shuts off midday—you’d forgotten to plug it in the night before, and your charger was still in his car.

Thursday, you nearly cry in front of your lit teacher because you can’t find your permission slip for the upcoming off-campus lab. The one Taehyung always makes sure is signed, scanned, and submitted before you even remember it exists.

You spend half your lunch period asking the office secretary where your documents went. The look she gives you—pitying—makes your skin crawl.

And by Friday, you finally realize:

He didn’t just help.

He handled everything.

You’ve been floating on a world built entirely by Taehyung’s hands. Now that you’re standing alone, everything feels heavier. Stupid. Messy. Exhausting.

You’re not used to needing help. But you are used to things working. Smoothly. Quietly. Elegantly.

And now they’re not.

You feel frayed. Uncentered. Out of rhythm.

The moment you get home, you collapse onto your bed and stare at the ceiling. The silence is sharp. The loneliness louder than you’d like to admit.

Your phone buzzes.

It’s a message from Taehyung.

[Tae]:

The restriction is being lifted. It’ll be cleared by Monday.

The villa’s owner agreed to hold your reservation until then.

It’s fixed, sweetheart.

Your eyes sting.

A second message follows.

[Tae]:

Come downstairs. The car’s waiting. I’m taking you to dinner.

You hesitate.

Then you type back, fingers trembling.

[You]:

Okay.

A pause.

Then:

[Tae]:

How’d your week go?

You don’t respond.

You don’t have to.

Because you’re already grabbing your coat.

————-

The car is already parked outside when you come down.

Black. Sleek. Quiet. Just like always.

The driver opens the door, and you climb in without a word. The interior smells like soft leather and vanilla—the scent Taehyung knows calms you. The playlist is your favorite one. The temperature is perfect.

He thought of everything. Again.

When you arrive at the restaurant, he’s already waiting.

Private room. Secluded. Perfectly lit. He stands when you approach, pulling your chair out, draping your napkin onto your lap himself before sitting across from you.

“You look tired,” he says gently, pouring your water.

You don’t deny it.

“I wanted to try to do things on my own, I don’t even think I was that angry about the villa,” you murmur. “I thought… I could figure it out.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just watches you with a softness you haven’t seen in days.

Then he leans in.

“You can,” he says. “Of course you can.”

You glance up, surprised.

“But why would you?” he adds, voice low.

You stay quiet.

“I don’t do these things because you’re incapable,” he continues. “I do them because I want to. Because I know what you need even when you don’t.”

You swallow, throat tight.

He tilts his head. “Was it hard?”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t shift, but something in his shoulders tenses.

You clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure. Failing.

“You said you’d fix it,” you say. “You promised me the trip would work out, and fine, you’ve handled it, I get it—but where were you for everything else?”

You pause.

“I messed everything up.”

His eyes flicker toward you, unreadable.

“I forgot my assignments. I missed the field trip registration. I didn’t even realize my phone died until it was too late and I had no charger and no one to ask. And the worst part—” your voice catches, trembling— “is that no one helped. No one could. Because they all expect you to be there. They expect you to handle it.”

He watches you, but still says nothing.

Your throat tightens. “I told myself I didn’t need you. But I was wrong.”

Tears sting your eyes again.

And then—without fully thinking—you snap.

“You should’ve been there, Taehyung!”

His jaw tenses.

“I know I pushed you away, but that doesn’t mean you were supposed to let me fail. You let me fall apart just to prove something—”

He moves. Not fast, but deliberate.

You flinch as he rises from his seat, rounds the table, and kneels beside you without a word. His hand slides around your waist. You freeze.

Then he pulls you up—off your chair, effortlessly—and seats you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your middle, the other cradling the back of your head.

You’re still crying when he kisses you.

It’s not careful.

It’s claiming.

His mouth devours yours—deep, slow, and completely unrelenting. You gasp, trying to breathe, but he doesn’t stop until your lips are parted and swollen, until you’ve gone soft in his hands, trembling in his arms.

When he pulls back, your breath catches in your throat.

His forehead rests against yours.

His voice is a whisper, but it strikes like a blade.

“Don’t ever avoid me again.”

You blink, eyes wide.

“I don’t care how upset you are,” he murmurs, breath ghosting across your lips. “You don’t shut me out. You don’t try to handle things alone.”

You try to speak, but he places a finger over your lips.

“I’ll take care of the professors,” he says. “I’ll fix the registration. I’ll call your field trip coordinator tonight. You won’t even remember the mistakes.”

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping lightly.

“But don’t test me like that again.”

You nod, unable to do anything else.

He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, softer this time.

“You can break,” he whispers. “Just not away from me.”

And in that quiet, dimly lit room—with his hands on your hips and your face buried in his shoulder—you realize:

And deep down—you’re starting to realize—

You aren’t incapable. And maybe the part of you that was failing wasn’t because you couldn’t try.

It was because you don’t want to. You don’t want to untether yourself.

——————-

His office smells like cedarwood and something sharper. You’re not sure when you started recognizing his scent as something separate from the world around him. Something richer. More dangerous.

You’re perched on his lap again, legs on either side of his hips, his large hands resting on your waist like they belong there. Lips separated again after a long make out session. His blazer is on the floor and his dress shirt is undone —white fabric hanging loose around sculpted shoulders, revealing the smooth lines of his chest, the cut of his abs.

You press your palms against them instinctively, and he smirks.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

You scowl and look away. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He just hums and adjusts you higher on his lap, gripping your waist to keep you still. Your skirt rides up in the motion, thighs exposed and brushing the warmth of his.

“You remember what I said,” he murmurs, voice low, one hand sliding just beneath your shirt, tracing the dip of your back. “About fixing your little vacation problem?”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the thing you were supposed to fix days ago?”

He smirks faintly. “It was complicated.”

“You’re complicated.”

He lets out a soft laugh, but his eyes stay fixed on you—darker now.

You fold your arms over your chest. “You took forever.”

He raises a brow. “Did I?”

“You did.”

His hand tightens at your waist, just a bit. “And yet you still ended up on top of me.”

You frown.

“And I seem to recall,” he says, voice quieter now, “you promising I’d get something in return.”

You open your mouth, close it again.

Then mutter, “Do you even deserve it?”

He leans in, slow. “What was that?”

“I said,” you grumble, “do you deserve it? You took your time.”

There’s a beat of silence.

And then—his smile turns sharper. Lazier.

“I did that on purpose,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I wondered what would happen if I let you wait just a little too long.” He tugs you flush against him. “Spoiled little thing. You’re so easy to wind up.”

Your lips part.

He leans closer, mouth grazing your ear.

“You’ve been so cute lately—too cute not to play with.”

You scowl and shove at his chest, but he barely budges.

“Get off—”

“No.” His tone hardens. “You wanted something. You got it. Now I want something.”

You hesitate. “Taehyung—”

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, one hand sliding under your skirt. “Just for me.”

You tremble when he touches you—because you’re already wet. Already aching.

“You’re so annoying,” you whisper.

He smiles.

“Wet,” he whispers back. “All for me.”

You gasp when he slides his fingers through your folds, teasing but firm.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet, and you’re already this needy?” His voice drops to a dark purr.

“I’m not—”

“Shh,” he whispers, and slips a finger inside you.

You gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders.

He kisses you then—slow and deep and utterly possessive. You moan into his mouth, already squirming in his lap.

“You like this,” he breathes, kissing your jaw. “You like me taking what I’m owed.”

“Bastard.”

“You’re grinding on me, sweetheart.”

You try to glare, but his other hand slips behind your neck, holding you close while he pushes another finger into you.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you in my lap,” he says, “because you owe me.”

You whimper.

You want to argue. But your hips start moving on their own.

You ride his fingers until you’re dripping and panting—until he can’t take it anymore and undoes his belt, sliding you down onto him with one slow, brutal thrust.

You cry out—high and breathless—as he fills you, your hands clutching his shoulders, your eyes wide and dazed.

“See?” he whispers. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”

He moves beneath you—hard, slow thrusts—gripping your waist and dragging you down onto his cock like he’s been waiting his whole life to ruin you. And maybe he has.

“You look so pretty like this,” he coos. “Completely wrecked. All mine.”

You moan as he grinds into you deeper.

“You are mine, right?”

You nod helplessly. “Mhm.”

He smiles and kisses you again—until your body tightens, your walls clench, and you come around him with a broken gasp, collapsing against his chest.

And when you’re trembling and boneless in his arms, he whispers into your hair:

“Next time you try to punish me by pushing me away. I’ll remind you just like this.”

He fucks you again, slower now. Drawing it out. Keeping you there. Full. Marked. Owned.

——

The room is dim, lit only by the soft amber of the bedside lamp. The sheets are tangled beneath you both, warm with sweat and the afterglow of something too intense to name. You’re lying against his chest, his skin bare, heart steady under your ear — the only sound in the silence.

He hasn’t said much. But then again, Taehyung never really needs to.

His arm is draped over your waist, the other tucked under his head, gaze fixed on the ceiling like he’s listening to something far away.

You hesitate.

Then softly:

“Would you still want me… if we weren’t promised?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

You wait.

“If we weren’t—” you try again, voice smaller now, “If I wasn’t raised this way? Trained to be what you like. Would you still have chosen me?”

His hand stills on your waist. For a long time, he doesn’t speak.

Then, without looking at you, he says quietly—

“I don’t waste time on hypotheticals.”

You flinch, just a little. His voice is calm. Flat. Unapologetic.

But after a beat, he finally shifts his gaze down to you. The look in his eyes is darker now. Unreadable. As if you’ve pulled something out of him he doesn’t like showing.

His voice is low.

“I don’t wonder about what could’ve been. All I’ve ever wanted is mine right now.”

You’re silent.

He brushes your hair back from your face, fingers cold against your temple. You think he might stop there. That the moment might pass.

But it doesn’t.

“I would’ve taken you anyway.”

Your breath catches.

He watches you. Still. Something sharp lingering beneath his calm.

“You think I wouldn’t have noticed you?” he murmurs.

You part your lips, but he cuts you off with a single look.

“I like to think I was born lucky,” he says. “That I must’ve done something right in another life. Because how else would this happen?”

His fingers slide through your hair.

“How else would I end up with you?” he murmurs. “Perfect. Beautiful. Soft. Set on a silver platter, promised to me before we even knew what the world was.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t care about other lives,” he whispers. “Not when I got you in this one.”

His hand curls possessively at your hip.

“Fate just gave me a shortcut.”

You shiver.

“And I don’t question that,” he adds.

There’s no warmth in his tone. No affection in the way he says it.

Only truth. Cold and clean.

And then he presses his lips to your hair, holds you tighter against him.

And just like that, the question is closed.

Because in Taehyung’s world, there’s never been another ending.

Only this one.

You.

Him.

Always.

[bg3mazewanderer]

The Unholy Baptism 🩸 (A!A AU Headcanon)

🔞 Uncensored full image on p8reon (nsft)

In my original story, Astarion and Maze (Durge) went after Orin first. Astarion witnessed Durge’s redemption—and by his own will, chose to walk away from ascension.

Originally, I wasn’t too interested in crafting a narrative for Ascended Astarion. Not that I was against it. It just felt like the game already said all it needed to.

But while working on this spin-off, I found myself wondering:
What if they confronted Cazador first—and Durge, still unsure of her own path, let him ascend?

Here’s my what-if headcanon for A!Astarion X failed fem!Durge ⤵️

🔞CW: forced vampiric change, dub!con sexual act

The night after the ascension, Astarion demands what he does of any partner: for Durge to become his vampire bride, his dark consort.

Durge, who insta regretted it the very second she helped him ascend, hesitates and refuses at first. They—mostly Durge—argue. But Astarion, ever patient, knows it’s only a matter of time before she stops running from the fate that’s already unfolding. So, for now, he agrees to “talk later.”

Not long after, they enter the temple of Bhaal. Durge, already shaken by the fallout, is not herself. She falters and loses the duel against Orin. The party rushes in and defeats Orin, but it's too late. Durge is barely alive. They carry her broken body back to the tavern.

Astarion insists on tending to her himself. He tells the others to leave them in a private room. At first it’s a request, then, a threat.

They step back. Not because they can’t fight him. After all, he also was once their dear companion. And whatever he is now, they still want to save Durge. Their precious leader, their friend. And maybe he’s her only chance.

(Should imagine her condition is somehow beyond resurrection magic, healing spells. Even Withers is reluctant, for he knows what she will become even if she survives this.)

The others withdraw. Only the two of them remain, in a quiet bedroom with a small tub. Her breath is faint, pulse flickers. But Astarion knows she’ll last long enough. Just enough for what must happen tonight.

He undresses her carefully, reverently, peeling away the blood-soaked, torn fabric. He cradles her like something sacred, laying her gently in the tub. The bathwater steams, turning faintly pink as her blood touches the surface. Then, he steps in after her, undressed and silent.

He has waited for this moment. Cruel as it is, it had to be this way. Until there was nothing left in her mind but to surrender her body to him.

He cleans every wound, washes her hair, tends to her skin. He kisses and licks the blood from her still-open cuts.

He has her sit on his lap in the water. One hand behind her neck, supporting her back. The other trails along her collarbone with reverent slowness.

His lips follow the path of his fingers, ghosting over the bruises blooming on her shoulder, the cuts along her neck. Every wound is worshipped. Every scar kissed open.

He inhales deeply into the curve of her neck. The scent of her blood fills the bath, the air, his lungs. And as the delirium overwhelms them both—his or hers, he no longer cares—he bites down.

Her blood courses through his veins. Invigorated, aroused, he grinds upward into Durge’s hip on his lap. Pauses. Again. And again. Gulping ravenously, he holds her neck and cradles her limp torso firm. He can already feel Durge’s now-undead body begin to regenerate.

One more grind, and when he feels her fingers tighten around his thighs, matching his movement, he grips himself and aligns the tip to her entrance.

Another stream of blood trails down his throat, and with it, he thrusts himself inside. A low groan escapes from his lips sealed around her neck, then he bites down harder.

He is full of her now, inside and out. And she, of him.

Her jaw clenches, desperate. Astarion offers his forearm, allowing her to bite. One droplet of his blood is enough.

The water splashes, rougher and rougher, then gradually softens, soothed by the stillness settling in.

She has no strength—or will—left to resist. No choices left at all.

And that night, Durge becomes his. His mad love, forevermore.

[drewiana]

Still Yours, Even When I Shouldn’t

Baby daddy!Rafe Cameron x Kiara Carrera

toxic co-parents, that still hook up, jealousy, soft baby daddy rafe, possessive behavior, baby Luna, unresolved tension, fluff and, Rafe being feral

The blacked-out truck rolled up to the curb like it owned the street—because, of course, Rafe drove it like he did. Brand new, loud enough to turn heads, with rims that gleamed even under the fading OBX sun. It was the kind of vehicle that said he had money, but also that he didn’t care what you thought about how he got it.

Kiara rolled her eyes before she even saw his face.

Luna bounced on her hip, fat cheeks resting against Kiara’s collarbone, one hand tangled in the gold chain around her neck and the other crinkling her soft grey onesie. Her chunky baby thighs peeked out from under her blanket, and her curls—Kiara’s curls—framed that innocent little face, Rafe’s blue eyes were visible through the tinted window before he even opened the door.

And when he stepped out?

Plain grey tee hugging his arms. Silver chain sitting perfectly at the base of his throat. A matching silver watch glinting under the sunset. And that buzzcut—sharp enough to make Kiara’s stomach do that annoying flip she hated admitting still happened.

“Yo,” he called, eyes already on Luna, but sweeping up to Kiara’s face like he hadn’t seen her just yesterday. “Damn.”

“What?”

He smirked. “Didn’t know you were tryna dress like a sexy professor today.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, shifting Luna on her hip. “It’s called being put together. You should try it sometime.”

“I’m put together just fine.” He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss to Luna’s cheek—then another, and another, until she giggled and slapped at his face with a drool-covered hand.

Rafe chuckled, wiping it off with the bottom of his shirt. “She’s obsessed with me.”

“She gets it from you,” Kiara muttered under her breath, then side-eyed him. “You gonna help or just flirt all night?”

Rafe opened the back door, crouching down to buckle Luna into her car seat. He handled her with so much care, double-checking the straps like they weren’t just driving down the street. He made sure her little toy giraffe was in reach, adjusted her pacifier, then ran a hand gently over her curls.

“I’m just sayin’, if I knew you were gonna wear that shirt, I wouldn’t have let you ride in the front seat,” he teased once he stood up. “Can’t have people thinking I’m not keeping my baby mama happy.”

Kiara slid into the passenger seat and gave him a warning look. “We’re not doing that tonight.”

“Doing what?” he asked, pulling off with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the space between them. “You mean lying to ourselves?”

“Rafe.”

He laughed under his breath and turned the music up.

As they pulled away from Kiara’s place, the truck hummed beneath them, windows slightly cracked to let in the salty OBX breeze. Luna was already babbling in the backseat, tucked in her lavender blanket, little fists waving like she had something urgent to say.

Rafe rested one hand on the wheel, the other stretched across the center console, fingers brushing against Kiara’s knee like it was second nature.

Kiara crossed her legs in the passenger seat and smoothed down the sides of her black turtleneck. She didn’t bother hiding her eye roll when she caught Rafe glancing down at her chest.

“Eyes up front.”

“They are,” he smirked, eyes still very much not on the road. “Front and center.”

She sighed. “Do you have to be like this?”

“Like what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Flirty. Cocky. You act like this is a date.”

He leaned back a little, his silver chain shifting with the movement, catching the glow of the dashboard lights. “You’re in my truck. Dressed like a hot librarian. With my kid in the back. It’s kinda giving date night, if you ask me.”

Kiara bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to smile.

She hated how charming he could be when he felt like it.

“How’s work been?” he asked, glancing over again, genuine for a moment.

“Tiring,” she admitted. “Luna’s been teething, and my supervisor’s being passive-aggressive again, and I haven’t had time to—”

“—To what?” he interrupted, flashing her that annoying, knowing grin. “To think about how good I had you last week?”

“RAFE!”

“What?” He laughed, knuckles tapping the steering wheel. “You brought it up.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Your voice did,” he said, deepening his tone like a cheap imitation of her moaning. “The little breathy one? Yeah, that voice is still in my head.”

She smacked his arm, but she was laughing now—soft, low, despite herself.

“You’re such a dick.”

He shrugged. “You used to love it.”

“I used to love a lot of dumb things.”

“Okay. But let’s not forget who was the one whispering about wanting me to put a baby in her that night.”

The car went silent. Kiara stiffened.

“Rafe,” she warned, voice low.

He looked smug now. “What? I’m just saying’. You act like it was some freak accident, but you were in my ear talking’ about—‘don’t pull out this time’—”

“Oh my God—”

“‘I want it, Rafe. I wanna feel you put it in me’—that’s you, baby . That was all you.”

Kiara covered her face with her hands. “We weren’t thinking. We were in the moment.”

“And now look what the moment gave us.”

“You’re lucky she’s cute,” Kiara muttered.

“She’s perfect,” Rafe said, suddenly sincere, his hand tightening briefly around the wheel. “Best thing I’ve ever done. Even if you wanted to murder me when you found out.”

Kiara paused. “You were… surprisingly calm.”

“I mean, I was panicking on the inside,” he said, snorting. “But then I remembered what you looked like that night—head thrown back, all whiny, sayin’ ‘I want it.’” He shot her a wicked grin. “That’s why I couldn’t even be mad. You kinda did this.”

“You definitely did this,” she snapped, but she was laughing now.

“You encouraged it.”

“I did not—”

“You said—and I quote—‘then do it, I want all of it .’ Like it was a challenge.”

Kiara sighed, lips twisting. “I didn’t think it would happen.”

Rafe then proceeded to say

“Nah. See, that’s the part I keep thinking about. We’d done it before. You were on birth control. We were messy, but it never happened. But that night? You looked me in the eye and said—‘Give me a baby.’ Like I wasn’t gonna fold.”

Kiara rolled her eyes, but her face said she remembered exactly what she’d said.

Kiara turned to face the window, trying to hide her smile. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“You forgot how cocky I am, huh?” he said smugly, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

Yeah well… hard not to be cocky when my baby mama’s still fine as hell and I got the prettiest, chunkiest daughter in the backseat—who we accidentally made on purpose.”

She looked at him sideways. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” he argued. “We didn’t plan her, but we wanted her. We just didn’t know it until we were too far gone.”

She looked out the window, cheeks burning. “You’re so annoying.

“Oh, I’m annoying now?” he said, leaning back with one arm draped over the steering wheel. “You weren’t calling me that when you were begging me not to pull out.”

Kiara’s head whipped around. “Rafe.”

He bit back a laugh. “Nah, don’t ‘Rafe’ me now. You said—and I quote—‘Don’t stop, I want you to put a baby in me,’ and you said it like it was the hottest thing you ever thought of in your life.”

“I was delirious,” she replied, cheeks warm but smiling anyway. “Shut up.”

“You were possessed,” he teased. “I was trying to be responsible. I almost did the right thing. But then you hit me with that voice, your nails digging into my back like you were casting a spell—boom. Nine months later, we got a little chunky boss baby,

Kiara let out a laugh, unable to hide how funny it was now. “That’s your fault. You folded.”

“You made me fold.”

“I didn’t make you do anything. I suggested something. You, Cameron, made a choice.”

Rafe pointed at her, nodding slowly. “Nah. Don’t gaslight me like that. You knew exactly what you were doing. That lip liner. That moaning. That whispery little ‘don’t pull out’—you weaponized it.”

“Okay, but be honest,” she said, biting her lip to keep from smiling. “Who really had the power that night?”

He looked at her, eyes narrowing.

“…You did.”

“Exactly.”

“You still do, unfortunately.”

Kiara turned to face him fully, smug now. “So I’m the reason Luna exists?

“You’re the reason I didn’t pull out like a grown man with sense,” Rafe said, smirking as he glanced at their daughter in the mirror that was facing her baby car seat . “And thank God I didn’t. Look at her. That’s my best work.”

Kiara rolled her eyes but smiled, softer this time, watching Luna shift and snore lightly. Her reflection in the mirror showing Luna gripping her giraffe , swaddled in a soft baby pink blanket, her chubby cheeks pressed against the plush straps. Her tiny hands twitched in sleep, and her little nose scrunched just like Kiara’s when she was concentrating.

10 minutes later they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, the sky had shifted from golden to gray. A slow, moody drizzle kissed the windshield, soft but persistent, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be serious. The wipers moved lazily, pushing away the droplets as Rafe killed the engine.

He ran a hand over his buzzcut, eyes flicking to the backseat where Luna was still asleep in her car seat—pacifier bobbing gently with each breath, cheeks full, lashes long. Her baby pink blanket had shifted slightly, exposing one socked foot.

“She’s still out,” he said, voice low.

Kiara turned her head, glancing back.

Luna was deep in sleep. Her cheeks were rosy and round, her pacifier gently bobbing with every slow breath. The soft blanket Rafe had tucked around her on the drive was pulled halfway up her chin, and her tiny fist peeked out from the side of the car seat.

“Yeah,” Kiara murmured. “Out like a light.”

They both sat there for another second, heads turned toward their daughter. It didn’t matter how many times they looked at her—they always ended up staring. She was too beautiful not to. A perfect mix of them. Her skin was a soft light caramel, her thick lashes fanned over her cheeks, and the combination of Rafe’s piercing blue eyes and eyebrows and Kiara’s gentle features made her already striking, even in sleep.

“She gets prettier every day,” Rafe said, almost to himself. Like he couldn’t believe they made her.

Kiara bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to get soft tonight—not with him. Not when they couldn’t ever decide whether they were at war or in love.

But then—

Tap. Tap.

The rain was picking up.

Rafe sighed, rubbing his jaw before unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ll get her,” he said, opening the door.

The blast of cool air hit them, bringing in the fresh scent of rain and earth.

“Of course it’s raining,” she muttered to herself, reaching over into her tote bag to make sure she had Luna’s bottle, the spare wipes.

She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Rafe pull Luna’s car seat out with one smooth, practiced motion, his grey shirt stretching over his chest. His buzzcut had already picked up a few raindrops. But it was the way he moved—gentle, careful, instinctive—that made her chest pull tight.

He reached for the blanket draped on the seat beside her, the lavender one with Luna’s name stitched in the corner, and draped it expertly over the top of the carrier, shielding their daughter completely.

“Got her,” he called softly through the crack in the door. “She’s good.”

Kiara stepped out, her black turtleneck clinging to her body in the misty air. Her glasses fogged slightly, and she pushed them up her nose with one hand while the other tugged her gold necklace into place. The gloss on her lips was still intact. Her curves? Definitely not hidden. And Rafe, standing there with their daughter in one hand and eyes on her, noticed all of it.

“Didn’t know it was gonna rain,” she grumbled.

Rafe grinned. “Your hair’s gonna curl up again.”

“Shut up.”

“I like it better curly anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

He shifted the car seat in his hand to keep Luna steady, glancing down through the blanket draped over it. “Still out cold,” he said, the tiniest smile on his lips. “Not even the rain fazed her.”

Kiara stepped closer, both of them looking through the small opening in the blanket. Luna’s tiny chest rose and fell in rhythm, her plush giraffe tucked next to her cheek. The rain was barely a whisper around them now, but the moment felt loud. Like everything they didn’t say was sitting between them.

“You sure you covered her enough?” Kiara asked, touching the blanket gently.

“I always do,” Rafe murmured.

She looked at him. He looked back.

He didn’t say it, but it was all over his face: I take care of what’s mine.

Kiara swallowed, blinking slowly. “Let’s go in before it gets worse.”

Rafe nodded, stepping ahead, the car seat balanced against his bicep like it weighed nothing. He opened the restaurant door for her without asking, the rain sliding off his back. She followed close behind, hands brushing the sides of her now-frizzing hair but her eyes only on Luna.

And behind them, the truck sat steaming in the soft rain. Expensive. Flashy. A little too much—just like them. But it got them here.

Together.

Even if it wouldn’t last the whole night.

The restaurant was warm, dimly lit, with soft amber lighting and the buzz of conversation humming through the space.

Rafe held the car seat in one hand like it was nothing, his other hand adjusting the soft blanket draped over the top to keep Luna hidden from the cool air.

The hostess gave them a quick once-over when they walked in—Kiara noticed it, Rafe definitely noticed it.

“Two and a high chair?” the girl asked, her polite smile not quite hiding the fact that she was mostly looking at Rafe.

Kiara cleared her throat. “Three, actually. But yeah. High chair.”

The hostess then nodded and turned to Rafe direction and smiled a little too long at him, eyes flicking to the car seat he held, then up to his buzzcut, silver chain, and the jawline that screamed: trouble with money.

Rafe set Luna’s car seat down gently beside the hostess stand and stood up tall, glancing around like he already didn’t like the vibe. He never liked small talk with strangers. He especially didn’t like when women looked at him while ignoring the woman standing right next to him with his baby.

They were led to a booth in the back corner near the windows, “Right this way,” she said, chewing her gum and swaying her hips just a little too much.

Kiara scoffed softly under her breath and watched Rafe closely.

To her surprise, he didn’t even pretend to look.

In fact, he looked annoyed. His jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed on Luna, and his free hand gently moved the blanket aside to make sure she was still breathing easy, not too warm. When they reached the table, he didn’t wait for the hostess—he immediately started setting the car seat down with care, like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

The hostess stood there, clearly hoping for another glance. Another anything.

Rafe didn’t give it to her.

“Can we get a high chair too?” he asked, still not looking up.

“Oh—uh, yeah, of course,” she stammered, blinking before walking away faster than she needed to.

Kiara slid into the booth across from him, arms crossed, trying not to smile.

Rafe sat down, finally lifting his head to meet her stare.

“What?”

“You didn’t even look at her,” Kiara said, voice low.

His eyes locked on hers. “Why would I?”

Kiara looked away, tucking her lip into her teeth like she was trying not to melt.

“I hate when girls do that,” he muttered. “Like I don’t have my daughter in my arms and the mother of our child right next to me.”

Kiara didn’t expect that. But God, it hit somewhere deep.

Rafe leaned back in the booth, resting his arm across the backrest, eyes not leaving hers.

“I know I come off a certain way,” he said casually. “But when I walk in with you? You think I’m looking at anyone else?”

Kiara looked down, brushing an invisible crumb off the table. “You better not be.”

“I’m not.” His voice was quieter now. “She can stare all she wants. You’re the only one I see.”

And just like that, all the cold between them warmed.

Rafe’s gaze slid from Kiara’s face to the curve of her neck, the gold necklace catching the low light of the restaurant. His usual smirk softened as he spoke, voice low and rough with a hint of something like admiration.

“You look good tonight, Kie. Real good.”

Kiara glanced up, caught off guard but smiling anyway, the warmth spreading under her skin. She touched a loose strand of her wavy hair, freshly straightened but already curling back at the ends from the dampness outside.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. “You’re not so bad yourself.

Rafe chuckled, but then his eyes flicked to his side and Luna stirred softly in her seat.

Her little eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes blinking slowly as if she wasn’t quite ready to leave her nap. Rafe reached out gently, unbuckling her with the softest touch, careful not to jostle her awake too much.

“Is Luna waking up?” Kiara asked, peering over at him.

“Yeah, she’s waking,” Rafe said, careful not to startle her. “Let me get her.”

He unbuckled Luna and lifted her out with practiced care. The baby’s warm breath tickled his neck as she snuggled into his chest, her chubby fingers curling around his shirt.

Kiara’s eyes softened as she watched him. “She’s the best thing we ever made,” she whispered, fingers grazing Luna’s cheek.

Before Rafe could respond, a sweet voice interrupted them.

“Oh, what a beautiful baby you have.”

They turned to see an elderly woman standing with a high chair and menus in hand. Her smile was genuine, eyes twinkling behind her glasses.

Kiara smiled warmly. “Thank you so much. She’s our whole world.”

Rafe nodded, his usual guarded demeanor softened. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”

The woman pulled the high chair over. “I’ve seen a lot of babies, but she’s got a special kind of cute. You both must be so proud.”

Kiara’s cheeks flushed. “We are. Every single day.”

Once Luna was safely seated in the high chair, munching on a teething toy, the waitress arrived to take their order. Rafe picked up a menu but barely glanced down; his attention was already back on Kiara.

That’s when he noticed.

The waiter approached their booth with a smooth, practiced smile, menu folded neatly in his hands. He looked like in his late 20s to early 30s —with slicked-back hair and eyes that didn’t quite mask how much they were wandering.

Kiara was leaning over the menu, glasses slightly down her nose as she tried to decide between the shrimp and grits or the grilled salmon. Her black turtleneck hugged her curves, and even covered, Rafe could tell the guy’s eyes kept drifting lower than polite.

Rafe’s jaw tightened.

Rafe noticed it the second the guy walked up.

Late -thirties . Lanky. Wore too much cologne and not enough shame. Had that fake polite smile and eyes that were already drifting places they didn’t belong.

“Evening, guys. I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” the waiter said, placing down two glasses of water and flashing Kiara a look that lingered a second too long. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”

Rafe didn’t say a word. He just leaned back and stared, his arm draped along the back of the booth like he was relaxing. He wasn’t.

Kiara didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy looking at the pasta options.

“I think I’ll get the penne with shrimp,” she said, closing her menu and handing it to the guy.

The waiter grinned. “Good choice. You’re not allergic to anything, right? Wouldn’t want anything to happen to someone as…”

His eyes dropped.

“…pretty as you.”

Kiara’s brows raised slightly, but she didn’t answer. She felt it now—the shift.

And she felt Rafe.

Still leaning back, silver chain glinting, that cold expression settling over his face like a thundercloud.

Then the waiter had the audacity.

“So, are you two… together?”

Kiara opened her mouth to respond—just out of instinct. But Rafe cut in.

Hard.

“What the fuck does it matter?”

The guy blinked. “I just meant—”

“I heard what you meant,” Rafe said, voice low and sharp, venom dripping from every word. “You came over here, stared at her chest like she didn’t notice, asked a dumbass question, and now you’re standing here pretending it was innocent.”

The air at the table dropped ten degrees.

Kiara didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. She knew this Rafe. The one that came out when he felt someone crossing a line. She wasn’t gonna stop him. She never did when it was like this—because she knew the truth:

He only got this cold when it was about her.

“She’s my girl,” Rafe said, voice like gravel now. “So take your little creepy fucking glances and get the hell away from this table before I have you fired by the time you hit the kitchen doors.”

The waiter’s face flushed, mouth parting like he might argue—but Rafe leaned forward, slow and dangerous.

“Do I look like I’m fucking playing with you?”

The guy stammered. “No—sir. Sorry, I’ll—I’ll go get someone else—”

“Do that,” Rafe snapped. “And tell them to send someone who knows how to look a mother in the eyes.”

The waiter practically tripped over himself trying to back away.

Once he was gone, the booth fell quiet again. Kiara picked up her water, unbothered. She sipped slowly, eyeing Rafe over the rim of her glass.

“You done?” she asked.

Rafe’s jaw was still tight. “Not yet.”

Kiara smirked, setting the glass down. “You really told that old man I’m your girl.”

He looked at her, something darker flickering under the blue. “You are.”

She didn’t correct him.

5 minutes later a different waiter came by and took their order and Rafe had suggested for a small bowl of soup for Luna to try.

Luna babbled in her high chair, clapping her hands against the tray, making sticky little noises with her pacifier. Her curls were a little wild from her nap, cheeks still flushed. Kiara reached over, smoothing her hand over Luna’s soft baby hair before grabbing a clean bib from the diaper bag.

“You ordered her soup?” she asked, a little surprised.

Rafe shrugged, casually sipping his water like it was whiskey. “Yeah. First soup. Big deal. Gotta be there for the milestones, right?”

Kiara blinked. “You’re soft.”

He smirked. “I’m practical she’s been eyeballing our food every time we eat in front of her. You’re the soft one.”

Kiara fastened the bib gently around Luna’s neck, talking to her in that warm, high-pitched voice she didn’t even realize she used. “Are you gonna try soup today, Luna? Yeah? Your first big girl soup?”

Luna squealed, all gums and joy, kicking her feet under the table.

Rafe watched the whole exchange with that cocky, crooked smile—leaned back, arms crossed, shaking his head.

“You get so extra with her,” he muttered, but not in a mean way. His voice was full of amusement.

Kiara raised an eyebrow, still cooing at Luna. “You’re mad she likes me more.”

“I carried her car seat through the rain like a soldier. She owes me.”

“She clings to me.”

“She giggles for me.”

“She naps on me.”

“She looks like me.”

Kiara looked up sharply. “She has my nose.”

“But my eyes.”

Kiara opened her mouth to say something, but the waitress returned with drinks and said, “Soup’s coming right out.”

As she left, Rafe gave Kiara a smug look and raised his brows. “You were about to say her curls are yours, huh?”

Kiara grinned. “Obviously. You think you could ever make hair this perfect?”

Rafe looked at Luna. Her curls were puffed and full and chaotic in the cutest way.

He shrugged. “Could be a team effort.”

Kiara tilted her head. “So we’re a team now?”

He didn’t answer.

He just looked at her, blue eyes calm but locked in. Serious in the way Rafe rarely let himself be.

And then, right on cue, Luna squealed loud and proud again—arms out like she was celebrating something.

Kiara laughed. “Look at her. She’s ready.”

“She’s always ready,” Rafe said, leaning in to fix the bib around her shoulder. “Little girl’s gonna be eating steak before she’s two.

When the food came, the waiter placed the tiny bowl of warm soup down gently in front of Kiara and nodded with a smile. “For the little one.”

“Thank you,” Kiara said.

Rafe leaned forward like it was a big moment.

He looked at Luna. “Alright,this is it. First soup don’t let us down.”

Kiara dipped the tiny spoon into the broth and blew on it until it was cool enough, then offered it to Luna’s lips.

The baby made a weird face—more confusion than anything—but opened her mouth.

They both leaned in like they were watching the climax of a movie.

Luna swallowed, smacked her lips… and gave a soft giggle.

Kiara gasped dramatically. “She likes it!”

Rafe fist-pumped. “Told you! Told you!”

He looked way too satisfied for someone whose daughter had just slurped a single spoon of watered-down soup, but Kiara didn’t say anything.

She just smiled.

And maybe—just a little—she let herself enjoy the sight of Rafe grinning like a kid, chest puffed out, silver chain bouncing as he leaned down to kiss Luna’s cheek.

Maybe she didn’t mind that he was a little too cocky.

Because when it came to Luna—

He earned it.

Later on the check came quietly, tucked between two black leather flaps. Rafe reached for it before Kiara even noticed, flicking it open with one hand and sliding his card in with the other like it was muscle memory.

Kiara glanced up from Luna, who was now babbling sleepily and rubbing her eyes. “You sure?”

He didn’t even look up. “Yeah. I got it.”

She didn’t argue—just ran a gentle hand over Luna’s curls as the waiter returned the receipt. Rafe scribbled his name, then added a generous tip without flinching. Hundred-dollar dinner, sixty-dollar tip. He always did that, like it was nothing. Like money came easy. For him, it did.

Kiara stood and unbuckled Luna from the highchair. The baby clung to her instinctively, cheek resting against her chest, arms wrapped around her collarbone. Kiara’s voice softened as she cooed, “I know, baby. It’s bedtime. Mama’s got you.”

Rafe watched her cradle their daughter, her curls brushing Luna’s forehead as she adjusted her grip and Rafe stood up to put the car seat next to her.

“Need help?” he asked.

Kiara shook her head, determined to snap Luna into the seat herself. “She’ll wake up if you jostle her.”

He didn’t argue. Just waited, arms crossed, watching as Kiara bent down with practiced ease, settling Luna gently into the cushioned seat. She clicked the straps in place like second nature, double-checking the chest buckle, her hand lingering on Luna’s leg as the baby let out a soft sigh.

“There we go,” she whispered, brushing Luna’s hair from her forehead.

Rafe stepped in after, lifting the car seat handle with one hand and hoisting it up with ease. “I’ll carry her to the car.”

Kiara nodded, brushing her hands on her dress before reaching to grab the baby bag.

She slung it over her shoulder, and when she stood up straight, Rafe’s other hand found her waist without a word.

His palm was warm, his fingers wide and sure against the curve of her hip. Not forceful—just present. Steady. Protective in the way only Rafe could be.

Kiara glanced at him, a flash of surprise in her eyes.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

He looked at her like he couldn’t tell if she meant for the dinner or for the hand on her body. Maybe both.

His fingers slid just a little higher, brushing the small of her back. “Anytime.”

And she didn’t move away.

As they walked out of the restaurant, the night air warm and thick around them, Kiara found herself glancing sideways at him.

It was supposed to be just dinner.

But somehow, it never stayed just anything with them.

Let me know if yall want more co parenting Riara 💗💗💗

[riiceandsoup]

After the Silence

Chapter 1 — "Two Lines"

It was pink.

Faint. Soft. Stupidly delicate, for what it meant.

Y/N sat on the bathroom floor, the cold tile pressing against the backs of her thighs. She held the test in both hands like it might turn to dust if she looked away.

Two pink lines.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t even blink.

She just thought:

Of course.

---

The silence in the apartment didn’t feel peaceful.

It felt like abandonment.

There was still dust in the corners of the closet where Suna’s shoes used to be. His hoodie—faded, seafoam green, with a loose thread on the sleeve—was tucked into the back of a drawer she hadn’t opened in weeks.

The tea kettle screamed softly behind her.

She forgot she even turned it on.

---

She poured the tea but didn’t drink it.

Instead, she drifted back to the couch like a ghost of herself, curling into the space where he used to sit. The air was heavy. The mug sat untouched on the side table, steam curling like a question mark.

---

[Flashback – Two years ago, the first night in their apartment]

No furniture.

No curtains.

Just a mattress on the floor, half-unpacked boxes, and takeout containers between them.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing his old volleyball tee and pointing a chopstick toward the ceiling.

“It’s too quiet,” she said.

Suna leaned back on one hand, smiling at her like he always did when he was half-exhausted but still soft.

“Then we’ll fill it.”

“With what?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Your terrible 8am playlists. My late-night cooking disasters. You screaming every time you see a spider.”

He nudged her knee gently.

“With us.”

She laughed.

And she believed him.

---

[Present]

Now it was too quiet again.

But there was no spider.

No laughter.

No Suna.

Only the low hum of the fridge and the weight in her stomach.

Y/N reached for the old brown notebook on the shelf beneath the coffee table. Pages bent from old grocery lists and one-liners she’d meant to turn into poetry.

She flipped to a fresh page. Her hand trembled once—just once—and then steadied.

She began to write.

---

Rintarou,

You would’ve known before I did. You always did. The moment I cut sugar out of my coffee, you would’ve raised an eyebrow and said something annoyingly smug like, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

But you’re not here.

And I’m not writing this so you come back. You made your choice.

I took three tests. All of them lit up like warning signs. And somehow I still wanted a fourth, just to be sure. But I already knew. My body knew before I did.

You don’t get to panic. You don’t get to help. You don’t even get to know.

Not because I hate you.

But because I can’t handle the sound of your voice trying to be kind when all I want to do is scream.

I’m scared, Rin. And I’m pissed. And I’m tired of being the one left to hold all of this.

It’s yours. But it’s also mine. And I’ll carry it alone if I have to.

So congratulations.

You got your silence.

—Y/N

---

She folded the page, twice.

Walked to the coat closet and pulled down a shoebox she hadn’t touched in a month — one that used to hold polaroids, bus tickets, small memories.

Now it held letters she never meant to send.

This was the first.

It wouldn’t be the last.

---

[Elsewhere — Same Night, Suna's POV]

Suna stared at the ceiling.

The apartment he’d moved into was neat, clean, quiet.

Too quiet.

He should have been asleep hours ago, but he kept thinking about that weird crease Y/N got between her eyebrows when she was trying not to cry. Or how she chewed her lip when she was overwhelmed.

He turned onto his side. Reached for his phone.

Didn’t text her.

Didn’t call.

“She needs space,” he had told himself.

Still, the silence felt heavier than usual tonight.

And for the first time since he walked out, he wondered if something was wrong.

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@wolffmaiden

[ponyboysgf]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Dating Deadpool hcs — ᴡᴀᴅᴇ ᴡ.

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⋆·˚ ༘ * — warnings : mentions of bones breaking, mentions of suicide, F!Reader x Deadpool and also M!Reader x Deadpool, cursing, mentions of ‘flesh’

⋆·˚ ༘ * — Author : love deadpool🤤🤤. Hope you guys enjoy.

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✧.* im sorry but be would call you EVER SINGLE CRINGEY NICKNAME ON THE EARTH. “Snookums”, “Princess/Prince”, “Hot stuff”, “Pookie bear”, “Cutie”, EVERYTHING. Of course he’s not apposed to regular nicknames like baby and stuff, though.

✧.* Yes, he is a grown man😭 but he still gets so giddy whenever you do stuff for him, like genuinely gets so happy, like “you did that for me?”

✧.* He’s definitely insecure about his looks, so he LOVES whenever you compliment him, even if you have to lie sometimes…

✧.* Picks up random stuff for you when he goes out, even when he’s off fighting criminals and stuff😭.

“Uh oh.” Wade said, as he got picked up by the juggernaut, being spin around before getting tossed by the huge mutant.

He grounded as he got tossed against the ground, rolling against the dirt for a little before his back smashed against a flipped over car, breaking his spine in the process.

Deadpool glanced over to the field of dandelions peaking through a crack in the road, which was now practically demolished from the Juggernaut.

“Oo, my baby would love these!” Wade said before reaching over and plucking a dandelion from the small patch, shoving it in his pocket to give to you later, ignoring the huge mutant charging towards him.

✧.* If you guys are in an AU where he never met Vannessa, he would still be very protective of you but not as much as he would be after Nessa died.

✧.* It would take him a while to move on from Vanessa but if you guys began dating, he would tell himself that Vanessa would want him to be happy, and it makes him feel better about moving on.

✧.* man can NOT keep his arms around you, wether it’s a arm snaking it’s way around your waist, hand on your ass (consensually ofc), or arm around you.

✧.* would treat you so good. Wade would give you presents whenever possible, whether he stole it or bought it with his own money.

✧.* Family has always been an “F-Word” for him but he would love to start a family with you, but you would have to convince him that he won’t be like his father.

✧.* Would do anything for you, like no joke he can’t die, trust me when i say he’s tried, so he would literally shoot himself in the head if you asked him too. not that you ever would

18+ below the cut

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✧.* man is so kinky!!! He would be down for ANYTHING.

✧.* Since his canonically pansexual, he doesn’t care what you have!! He just wants to make you feel good.

✧.* Would go down on you for HOURSS if you would let him.

⋆·˚ ༘ * — Fem. Vers

You whined, laying on the edge of the bed, your mind a big fuzzy blob as Wade worked his mouth against your cunt. His tongue licking at your juices., having already made you cum more times than you could count.

“Wa-Wade.” You moaned, arching your back as you came down from your previous orgasm.

“Yes?” Wade lifted his head from your pussy, your juices covering his chin as his arms were wrapped around your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Can’t— Can’t take anymore.” You whined, to which Wade pouted in response and drew out one more orgasam from you before he finally pulled his face away from your pussy, cleaning you up with a warm towel before washing his own face off. He licked the juices off his face before using a towel like the freak he is

Wade then climbed up back onto the bed with you, flopping onto his back.

“Did I break you?” He asked, grinning as he starred at the ceiling before turning his head to look at your face, seeing how gorgeous you looked after he overstimulated the hell out of you😭.

⋆·˚ ༘ * — Masc. Vers

As Wade’s head bopped up and down against your cock, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your 5th release of the night, your cheeks hot as your brain slowly melted into nothing but a slab of flesh.

“You okay, baby?” Wade asked, grinning as he pulled his mouth away from your cock, a trail of spit stringing from his lips, his hand stroking your cock to make up for the loss of his warm mouth.

You whimpered at the loss of warmth, nodding in response as you put your hand behind his neck, pulling his head back towards your cock as he continued to suck the living crap out of you, your chest was heaving up and down at this point.

Wade moaned against your cock, the vibrations making your dick twitch in his mouth, he reached up to grab your hand, giving you a silent form of reassurance as he slid his mouth up to the tip and then down to the base.

Your hand intertwined with Wade’s before you suddenly came, letting out a whine as your chest heaved up and down. Wade didn’t even blink before he began swallowing your cum, sticking to the “Spitters are quitters.” quote.

When Wade pulled his mouth away, he wiped the corners of your mouth, hopping up onto the couch with you.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “Did so well for me, sugar bear.”

✧.* He’s definitely a switch, maybe dom leaning?? He would let you fuck/peg him but at the same time he would love to feel you around his cock as he thrusted into you.

✧.* You know how he has pockets on his suit?? He also has a zipper just for you and of course taking a leak…

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; smoked cheese cookie

requested by ; anonymous (19/01/24)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; smoked cheese cookie

outline ; “Can you write smoked cheese smut and relationship headcanons? I'm 18 btw. You don't have to write them if you don't want to!”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

his main love language is words of affirmation and he takes well to genuine praise and compliments, especially those centred around his work and people skills and especially if you use them more sparingly

of course he’s not so fickle as to turn down a kind word from you, but the more you shower him with compliments the less genuine it starts to feel and the less it starts to effect him

it’s the same reason why he’s so careful and deliberate about the kind things he says to you and when he says them

smoked cheese cookie is very particular about the pet names he chooses to use with and for you, as well as those he wants you to use for him. generally speaking this just means traditional things like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘beloved’, but he’s also partial to terms of endearment that denote some sense of ownership like ‘my love’, ‘my heart’, or even ‘my treasure’ (which he has a particular soft spot for, as do all denizens of the golden kingdom)

he’s not very big on pda but, being as greedy as all citizens of the golden cheese kingdom are, smoked cheese cookie does do just enough to let others know exactly who you belong to.

a hand on the small of your back or an arm around your waist

a firm hand resting on your thigh or hip when you’re sat by his side

a kiss pressed tastefully against your temple

things like that

but in private he’s much more inclined to go further with you — like encouraging you to sit or lay across his lap, kissing you on the lips, and so on

his favourite place to kiss you has got to be either your eyelids or your knuckles (what a gentleman)

his favourite place to be kissed by you is, without question, his jaw — though his neck is a very close second… shame that’s not the most appropriate thing to do in public

while you might not initially assume as much upon first meeting him, smoked cheese cookie is remarkably empathetic with you and always seems to know what to say and what to do to make you feel better whenever everything else seems to be going wrong

[beef-brisket]

He was so close. So, so close. He coukd feel himself flutter around Lucifer's cock, trying to feel every little thing the blonde was giving him. Every hit to his prostate made his body feel like it was on fire, it was possibly the best feeling.

But of course, something had to snap him out of his bliss.

Lucifer's phone was ringing. And when Lucifer looked at the screen, he smirked and pressed his fingers to his lips, telling Adam to be as quiet as possible. Which was a little difficult when you had a huge cock in your ass but he did what he was told and covered his mouth.

Lucifer: Hey, Lily.

Oh fuck no. Please not her.

Lilith: "Hello darling, how are you?"

Lucifer slammed his hips into Adam, forcing the maid to tense up and force down his moan: Oh, I'm fantastic, Lily. And you? How was your show?

Lilith: "Amazing darling, simply amazing. As alway~."

The phone call was nearly ten minutes long and Adam was sure Lucifer was torturing him for that lomg as well. He was doing so well at being quiet but then Lucifer would place the phone on his chest, grab the back of Adam's thighs and fuck into him like there was no tomorrow.

It also didn't help that he screamed when he came. He also screamed louder when Lucifer came in the middle of his orgasm, his cum slammed into his prostate making him jolt.

Lilith: "What the FUCK was that?!"

Lucifer pretended to sound concerned, and if Adam didn't know any better, he was: Oh my god- one of the workers just fell off a lady- fuck! I've got to go, Lily.

Lilith sighed: "Fucking clumsy bitches... alright, Lu, I'll call you next week."

Lucifer: I look forward to it, darling!

As soon as Lucifer was off the phone, he thrusted up, making Adam cry out. He was already overly sensitive, THAT only made it worse.

Adam: L-Luci- I was good!

Lucifer smiled: I know you were, Addie. I just wanted to hear that beautiful voice again~.

✨️Maid in Hell✨️

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Lucifer didn't like spending money, especially on bullshit things his wife tried to explain away. Well, "explain" was a stretch. She really just waves him off.

Lilith annoyed him on a daily basis, but fuck, he loved her. And besides, he went out of his way to make her miserable when he wanted. That's why he's sitting out in the garden, by the pool on his sun lounger, in nothing but his swim shorts.

With his red sunglasses on, he was able to spy on one of those bullshit purchases. A maid that Lilith was insistent on hiring. But, the ridiculous part was that she hired a man. But the MORE ridiculous part was that she still required him to wear the traditional maid outfit.

He watched the maid from his spot in the sun. The man was on the second floor, cleaning the windows in the sun room. Half of them were stained glass, but the maid was cleaning the normal glass, so Lucifer could see and watch everything.

Even to this day, he couldn't understand Lilith's reason to hire a male maid, something about him not being attracted to a man. What flawed logic, seeing as he was pansexual; something his daughter told him about. But he won't question his wife, he doesn't feel like arguing for days about this.

So, for now, Lucifer will enjoy watching Lilith's bullshit purchase. Even in that dress, Lucifer could see the way his body shook when he cleaned, or how long his legs were, especially in those heels.

The blonde rubbed his upper thigh as the maid turned away, reaching over to another window, showing Lucifer the round of his ass. He knew it wasn't on purpose. He seemed to be the only employee Lilith hired that actually did their job properly.

Lucifer: Fuck...~. Should probably introduce myself, hm~.

[umilily]

fucking mosquito had a feast on my leg last night

[sodaneko]

friends tell me lore about a tattoo of yours

[sketchyorsomething]

Is it just me or is the reason little girls want to do horseback riding the wish to go on a ride at sunset through the woods and at the sea with no one else around you but your horse?

Basically the wish to be independent with no one telling you what to do and to be free?

[wainawtmai]

thinking of satoru dating mean!reader who absolutely despises any sort of pda. All of his students wonder how he’d even managed to woo you when you dodged his kisses, cringed at his excessive compliments, and shooed him away every time he tried to hug you like the touch-obsessed bug he was. It was a wonder that you guys were even together.

…well, it was kind of hard to brush him off when he was balls deep inside you.

“fuuuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.” satoru moans, that stupidly pretty grin on his lips as he watches your pussy absolutely gobble up the length of his cock. You tremble from the feeling, struggling to bite back your moans as his thick dick thrusts up into you. You hate the way the sound of his voice makes your body buzz with heat, a mix of embarrassment and lust that you both hate and love.

“so wet and ready for me all the time, aren’t you?” you know part of him does it to get a rise out of you, the sadistic little shit liked watching you squirm and sputter, all flustered at the sound of his voice.

and as per usual, you told yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, “S-Shut up.” you mean for it to come off as a warning but it sounds more like a pitiful whine. You can’t help it with the way he thrusts up into you, mouthing sloppy kisses into your skin in between his sinful words.

“you know you love me,” he sings into your ear, “You loveee the way my cock fills you up, don’t deny it, baby.” as if to further emphasize his point he brings his hands to the meat of your ass, prying you further open and drilling into you, fucking into that spot that drove you insane. You couldn’t even try to hide your disgusting moans and whimpers, nails digging into the skin of his arms as you tried and failed to fight the pleasure.

“what did I say,” he sing-songs, bringing a hand to your clit and rubbing at it with quick circles, “I’ve turned you into such a pretty mess.” of course he still has that Cheshire-sized grin on his face, his crystal eyes mesmerized by the sight of your grinding hips and the slickness you leave along his cock with each thrust he makes into your trembling pussy. Listening to the desperate little sounds you swore you didn’t make when he pressed a finger to your clit. Rendered absolutely useless.

He loved seeing you like this. “so pretty.” satoru moans, his voice slightly slurring with pleasure, “so—fuck—g-gorgeous all fucked out for me.”

you mustered up what was left of your strength to slap a hand over his lips, silencing him as you shuddered from your orgasm. “shut up, s-satoru.”

But you could see that look in his eyes: framed by those annoyingly pretty white lashes, blue and mischievous—or at least more so than usual. He brought his own hand to your weakening one, pulling your fingers into his mouth and sucking on them with a loud whorish moan, all the while still pounding into you.

“Mngh—fuck you, satoru.” You garble, whimpering with overstimulation despite still grinding down against his cock in time with his thrusts, you hated how much he knew you loved being overstimulated, the freaky little fuck.

He only hummed in response, too occupied with your fingers to respond, practically deep-throating them. You could feel his chest rumble with amused laughter as he watched you fall apart once again, your skin tingling with the shock of your second orgasm. He followed you soon after, aquamarine eyes lidding as he practically gagged on your fingers, emptying himself into you with a long, drawn out moan.

You tiredly pull your fingers out of his mouth, slightly missing the warmth, and practically fell on top of him. But before your eyes could flutter closed, you felt Satoru throb, your cheeks heating as you remember the nasty fucker also had a thing for overstimulation.

You swear as his thrusts continue, fucking his milky cum dripping between your thighs back into you. And despite how much you tell yourself his words were annoying, his murmurs of imagining your fingers as your clit as he sucked at them, drove you to the edge all over again.

Maybe you didn’t hate it.