#and now there are random words placed on random answers

[trippinsorrows]

midnight sun

authors note: don't ask. don't ask. don't ask.

words: 1.8k

warnings: angst, domestic violence

song inspo: 'faithfully' by journey

And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair Two strangers learn to fall in love again I get the joy of rediscovering you

Pressure.

A constant, almost soothing, irreparable thing. A loyal companion that hasn’t escaped nor forsaken him for as long as he can remember. The perpetual weight of responsibility that was assigned to him the day he entered this world, and something that will remain with him until the day he leaves it.

Whenever the fuck that’ll be.

At this rate and with his luck, not for a very long time.

“Did you know that the average person has four bad days per month?”  An overheard question.  Something Roman has to scoff at. Whatever sample that was used that produced such a statistic had to have been the fucking soccer and yoga moms. The ones who consider Starbucks being out of fucking pumpkin spice the definition of a bad day. “Adults also apparently smile 15 to 20 times per day.”

Another random fact that’s overheard, except it’s something that Roman realizes is much closer than he initially realized. The proximity does not align with something that’s in earshot. More so something that’s right in front of him.

“I don’t know if I—if I really believe all that, but—”

With a heavy sigh, he lifts his head, ready to lay into the poor, unsuspecting soul. “Why are you fucking talking to—”

Two abrupt stops. Two interruptions. Two complete collisions. 

A second round.

Years. Almost twenty, and yet the instant his eyes lock with hers, he knows, and judging by the way she drops the notepad in her hand, she knows, too.

It’s been some time since he’s felt so thoroughly shaken, but that’s exactly what he feels in this moment.

“Solana?”

Not that there was any doubt before, but the tiny gasp that leaves her mouth is all the confirmation he needs that this is most definitely her. 

Her eyes. So big, brown, and inquisitive. Once filled with an abundance of hurt and pain, an ideal match with his all that time ago, is no longer the same. Something different. There’s some trace of happiness. Yet, there’s something almost disingenuous about it. Like, it’s a poor attempt at camouflaging what was felt so long ago.

What might still be felt.

“Roman….”

His jaw clenches. It’s been so long since he’s heard his name leave the mouth of someone like her. Soft. Innocent. Kind.

None of those non-physical things about her have changed. He can tell that even in this brief, unexpected interaction. 

Naturally, his eyes move over her, noticing her hair is no longer long and cascading down her back. It’s short, barely brushing past her shoulders. Lighter. It suits her.

Her body is filled out, shapely, womanly, heavy in the desired areas. And the minute her mouth curls into an almost hesitant smile, he finds himself pleased that that has remained unchanged.

She always had such a soothing, beautiful smile.

“I—what—what are you doing here?”

A good fucking question considering he has a million and other things on his to-do list and not one of them includes sitting in this random coffee shop he drove past on his aimless drive. 

“I mean,” she laughs nervously, hand to her face, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, that’s—that’s a silly question. You don’t have to answer—”

“I was driving and saw it. Wanted coffee.” Not necessarily a lie. He does now want coffee but not necessarily when he chose to park his Maserati and enter into the quiet, almost wholesome shop. “You work here.” A statement. Not a question.

Nodding, he’s much more pleased than he should be to see her smile grow. “Well, technically, I—I own it, but—”

“You own this place?” To anyone else, it’s perhaps a silly thing to “ask” given she just said as such, but for him, for them, it's so much more.

Her smile is bright, a light that contrasts the still unhealed bruises on her face as she shares with much more hope and optimism than anyone in their situation should have, “I want to own a coffee shop some day.” Looking over at him, consciously or unconsciously scooting closer, she challenges, “guess what I’m gonna name it?”

A bitter scoff leaves his mouth. He rolls his eyes but still gives it a go. “Sunshine’s place or some shit like that?”

Her giggle is a respite from the heaviness of the past two weeks. The only escape he’s found in this hell hole. And not just the facility. 

“No. I’m gonna name it—”

“Dulce’s…..” Roman pulls himself from a memory buried so deep, he doesn’t know how he was able to retrieve it. “You always said…..” 

“Yeah…..” she answers in a low voice, pushing back some of her hair, a nervous habit he sees still exists. But, it’s not the habit he’s focused on. It’s the diamond on her finger.

An engagement ring. 

“You’re engaged.” Another assessment. One that shouldn’t stir up whatever the fuck is brewing within him.

For a second, she looks like it’s a surprise to her as well. And, he sees it, catches the brief glimpse of an attempted escape. 

That sadness. A feeling that doesn’t quite escape a person, not to the extent she felt.

That they both felt.

Still feels, clearly.

For her, at least.

Maybe.

“Y—yes. Ummm—”

“Solana.”

Another voice introduced to the conversation. Male. Gruff. Infuriating. Roman cuts his eyes to the out of shape man who looks like a recovering alcoholic and someone who doesn’t need to be talking or even around her.

“Cody’s waiting.”

Cody?

But, Roman doesn’t have time to think too much about that ugly ass name. His focus is back on Solana, Solana who has suddenly shifted from slightly timid to downright terrified. She’s grasping at the material of her apron. “But, I—I thought he said I could work all day tod—”

“Plans changed.” A rude, coarse interruption that has Roman’s jaw ticking. Just who the fuck is this man and why does he think he can talk to Solana like that?

“Don’t you see we’re in the middle of a fucking conversation?” A much too late entrance into whatever this is, but an arrival nonetheless. “Leave.” 

For some reason, it seems the man only now decided to pay attention to just who she was speaking to, a recognition that has his eyes widened as he turns back to Solana, poorly whispering, “do you know who the fuck this is?”

“Kevin, please. I’ll—I’ll be out in a minute.” It ticks him the fuck off that she’s practically begging this motherfucker, a man who Roman doesn’t even know but would love to put a bullet in.

Just might after today.

Kevin scoffs and shakes his head. “Your mistake.”

He says nothing else, turning to walk away, Roman standing to possibly commit murder when Solana moves her hand in front of him, as if trying to stop him.

“It’s—it’s fine. My—my fiancé is here.”

Roman looks down at her, still completely unnerved by her complete shift in demeanor. Her fear is practically palpable.

“Solana….” He sees her eyes shut as her name leaves his mouth. “What’s going o—”

“It—it was good to see you, Roman,” she cuts him off, forcing a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “But, I—I have to go.” And it’s as she turns to walk away, he makes the mistake of grabbing her wrist. Instant regret fills him when she jumps but something else as well.

Suspicion. 

Solana has always been jumpy. He’s known that from the day they met at that god-awful place so many years ago. But something about the fear that courses through her, is stamped on her voice, feels….different.

He drops his hand, stating in a low voice. “Give me your phone.”

Her eyes widen. “Roman—”

“Please.” A word no one on this goddamn earth could torture out of him, but something that so easily rolls off his tongue for her.

Obviously confused, her expression remains torn even as she reaches in the pocket of her apron, pulling out and unlocking her phone. He takes it from her, ignoring that strange feeling when their hands touch.

Moving fast and thinking quick, he programs his number, choosing an unsuspecting name, one he knows she and only she will recognize. 

Handing it back to her, he instructs, “you need anything, you call me.” It’s not preferred. What he’d prefer is to walk outside and snap that Kevin and this Cody person, if he’s outside too, necks. Would prefer to tell her to just stay with him. But, it’s too much. Much too much given how long it’s been.

And yet, they seem so easily falling back into routine. 

She’s still visibly nervous, holding her phone in her hand instead of placing it back in the apron. Another pained smile followed up with, “goodbye, Roman.”

He doesn’t say it back, almost refuses to. Just watches as she moves to the back of the shop, coming out a few minutes later, apron discarded, purse on her shoulder, nearly rushing out without sparing him a glance even if his gaze never leaves her.

Solana is only able to barely slide into the back of the SUV, the door held open by an irritated Kevin when she’s yanked by her hair.

Piercing blue eyes stare down at her, his other hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly but not enough to completely restrict speech.

“Where the fuck were you?!”

His voice is harsh and angry, as is the look in his eyes. She opens her mouth to try to respond when he instead smashes her head into the window. She winces but refuses to cry out in pain even when his fist collides with her jaw. Her eyes clench shut, Solana already tasting the blood forming in her mouth.

“When I tell you to come, you fucking come, you understand me?!” He shouts, once again grabbing a fistful of her hair. 

Nodding helplessly, she forces out an answer, ignoring the blood leaking out the corner of her mouth. “Y—yes, sir.”

He scoffs, a cruel, wicked smile on his face as he takes pride in his work. In her terror. “Pathetic,” he hisses, shoving her away. Solana moves as far into the corner as she can, forever grateful when he pulls out his phone and initiates a phone call like nothing happened.

It’s stupid and risky and something she most definitely shouldn't be doing, but Solana can’t stop herself from also pulling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts, moving to the R’s only to find nothing there.

There’s an emptiness that accompanies that realization that makes no sense. A sadness that fills her at the thought that he didn’t, but…..the look on his face, so handsome and strong, the fact that he even asked….he had to.

So, she continues to scroll, carefully assessing for each stored contact, stopping when she sees it. Emotion fills her for a completely different reason, reading the single word that carries such weight and meaning.

Journey

[starmocha]

‘tis the damn season and deck them goddamned halls [Sylus/Reader ★ 1800 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Onychinus’ base gets a festive makeover. Day 01 — to: my true love (Sylus/Reader) Day 02 — do you want to build a snowman? (it doesn't have to be a snowman) (Zayne/Reader) Day 03 — in a gingerbread house built for two (Rafayel/Reader) Day 04 — you shine like the stars, you light up my heart (Xavier/Reader) A/N: I did not mean to skip this many days. I had an iron deficiency that left me physically weak and unable to focus for days. But I’m backkk now. Gonna try to churn out a few stories to catch up with the schedule. 😭😭😭 I had this idea planned since the beginning of this series, but the other day, the Sylus RP blog @sylus-qin and I ended doing a mistletoe plot too. Completely different from this, but I still wanted to give a shoutout <3 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia 【 request to be added 】

Throughout Linkon City, citizens were getting ready for the merry season. Garlands and festive lights were strung high in the city square, and holiday music blared from stores seemingly nonstop.

The moment you stepped into the N109 Zone, however, you noticed the drastic change. It wasn’t that the citizens of the N109 Zone didn’t celebrate Christmas, but the atmosphere felt much more subdued in comparison to the lively Linkon City. You saw a few decorations here and there. Shops (the reputable ones at least) were doing Christmas-themed sales, and you heard some Christmas songs every now and then.

In spite of all that, though, there was one place in the N109 Zone that did feel completely devoid of all signs of the approaching holiday.

Onychinus’ base.

“It’s so dark and dreary here.”

“It’s always dark and dreary here.”

“Don’t you want to make it festive?”

“Not particularly.”

“…”

“But if a certain kitten wants to ‘deck the halls,’ then by all means, go ahead.”

“You could’ve just said yes.”

“Do you want my card?”

“Yes.”

Armed with Sylus’ highly-valued black card and two of his trusted henchmen, Operation: Turn Onychinus’ base into a holly jolly wonderland was underway!

Since Luke and Kieran both refused to take off their masks, you reluctantly decided to do your shopping around the N109 Zone and made a few online orders for whatever other decorations you decided you needed.

Within a few days, shopping bags and packages full of garlands, lights, ornaments, and random knickknacks were strewn in the parlor just waiting for your creative touch. You beamed proudly, already humming happily Deck the Halls as you lay everything out neatly. A sudden shadow overcast you, the imposing presence looming behind you had you looking up curiously and meeting the amused smirk of Onychinus’ feared leader.

“Sweetie, I gave you my card.”

“…yeah?”

“…did you even buy anything?”

“What do you mean?! I bought a ton!”

“But you’ve only spent $1,000.”

“…don’t you have a gun you need to go bid on or something?”

After shooing Sylus away, you gotten to work decorating every single room, all of the halls, and not leaving a single crevice free from your festive vision. You worked nonstop for hours, commandeering whichever unfortunate Onychinus henchmen who passed by you, and roping them into your Yuletide operation.

“A little higher…higher…higher…too high—”

“Miss Hunter,” Kieran interrupted you from atop his ladder. You couldn’t see his face, but from his tone alone, you surmised he was rolling his eyes at you, about exasperated with the hours of you barking out orders to the twins.

“This was where we had the garland ten minutes ago,” Luke finished his brother’s thought, his tone much more explicit.

“Oh,” you said sheepishly, squinting, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” both twins answered.

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Maybe a little lower—”

They both ignored you and proceeded to hang the garland as is. You huffed in annoyance, but before you could get another word out, you noticed Mephisto perching nearby on a console table. You glared.

“Sylus!”

Mephisto squawked in shock and started flapping his wings, flying away as you chased after the mechanical crow.

“Mephie! I know you were spying on me for Sylus!” you yelled after the bird as you dashed down the hallway, “Get back here, you snoop!”

Luke and Kieran stared at one another, sighing.

Suddenly, Luke piped up, “Actually, maybe Miss Hunter is right and this could be low—"

He watched his brother climbed down his ladder and walked away. Luke grumbled, “So…am I supposed to finish decorating the hallway by myself now?”

“Caw! Caw! Caw-caw!”

“Don’t you ‘caw-caw’ at me, you traitor!” you screamed as you stumbled into Sylus’ study just as Mephisto landed on the young Onychinus leader’s shoulder. He looked up at you, his brow quirking up in question as you continued to argue with the mechanical crow. He sighed as his once quiet study was now filled with the argumentative squawking from both you and Mephisto.

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” he asked patronizingly, interrupting both you and the mechanical crow. He didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement when you turned to glare at him, clearly unpleased with his condescending tone.

“You were spying on me!”

“I was not,” he answered, mildly offended by the accusation. “I’ve been in my study all afternoon.”

“You had Mephisto spying on me!”

“Mephisto is free to roam as he pleased,” Sylus answered calmly, though you still had suspicions. Sylus sighed and motioned for the mechanical crow to leave. Mephisto appeared upset, but he did hop off Sylus’ shoulder and flew out of the room without complaint. You glared at the open door, only turning around when Sylus called your name.

“I’ve already seen your progress earlier,” Sylus said, “Is there a particular reason you suddenly don’t want me to know about your little project?”

Your shoulders slumped, feeling a little embarrassed now, as if you were a child being reprimanded for throwing a temper tantrum. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admitted, and Sylus smiled. “I wanted to see your reaction once everything was done.”

Sylus stood up from his desk and made his way over to you. You kept your sight lowered, too embarrassed to look him in the eye now after your silly little hissy fit.

“Look at me,” Sylus said firmly.

You hesitated.

“Sweetie, I said look at me,” Sylus repeated, his tone sharper, making you flinched before you slowly looked up, surprised to see his gentle smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I’m already touched that you wanted to do this,” he said, “And I already know I love everything that you’ve done so far, so why are you fretting so much? It is just a holiday.”

“Can’t you at least be a little surprised or…” You furrowed your brows.

He shook his head, laughing to himself at your frustrated expression. “Are you upset now that I am not overtly excited?”

“Well, no,” you admitted quietly, “I can’t really see you jumping for joy or gushing or…”

Sylus watched in amusement as you continued to mumble to yourself. “Have you decorated the tree yet?”

“Hm?” You looked up, surprised when Sylus questioned you. Slowly, you shook your head, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

“Then, why don’t we do this next part together?”

“…you actually want to decorate something?”

“No,” he answered, taking your hand in his, “But I do enjoy spending time with you. I don’t particularly care about the activity itself.”

You started to smile again. “Okay,” you said at last, “I was saving the tree for last, but…I want to decorate it with you as well.”

“Couldn’t we—ah!” You startled, frightened as you suddenly felt the ground disappeared and you were floating several feet high with only the tendrils of the red and black mist Sylus controlled supporting you. You gripped tightly the star topper in your hands. “Sylus—we could’ve used a ladder!”

He shrugged dismissively, and casually made a motion with his hand. You suddenly found yourself floating near the top of the Christmas tree, your feet dangling a little, unused to this weightless feeling of being suspended in the air for so long. After half an hour of decorating the tree with lights and an assortment of different ornaments, the only thing that was left was the topper for the tree. You carefully placed the star topper, smiling when it appeared to be aligned straight and perfectly.

Your joy was brief as without warning and within seconds, you suddenly found yourself descending rapidly, your cries stopping only once you found yourself cradled in Sylus’ strong arms, and his haughty face was peering down at you in amusement at your reddened cheeks.

You feebly glared at him. “You—!”

He chuckled. “The tree looks nice, sweetie,” he complimented you with sincerity, and your expression softened, though you were still mildly upset, feeling your heart still racing from the earlier adrenaline you had experienced at his mercy.

“Next time, you can put the topper on the tree,” you half-grumbled. Sylus agreed affably to your words.

In that moment, you noticed Mephisto had flown into the room, though Sylus himself seemed unsurprised by the mechanical bird’s presence. You blinked in confusion, noticing Mephisto was circling above you two, carrying a particular bundle of foliage in his beak.

“Why is Mephisto carrying parsley in his beak?”

“Parsle—what is wrong with your head?”

Sylus lowered his face down closer to yours. He smirked when he saw your smile, quickly catching on that you were messing with him just seconds earlier. He settled you back down to your feet, but he didn’t allow much space between you two. His face inched closer to yours and his thumb brushed over your lips, amused when he noticed you trembling from just the light touch. “Teasing me, are you?”

“I mean…just a little bit,” you said, feeling a growing dread upon seeing Sylus’ smile and sensing his imposing aura that almost wanted to engulf you. You nervously swallowed, wondering what was going on in his head.

“Should a kitten be so naughty this close to Christmas?” Sylus questioned you with a smirk, continuing, “What if good ol’ St. Nick puts you on his naughty list at the last minute?”

You pouted when he squeezed your face. You gripped his arm with both hands, grumbling, “What about you? Aren’t you expecting a lifetime supply of coals?”

“Indeed,” Sylus agreed to your annoyance. He loosened his grip on your face, his touch gentler now as he guided your lips closer to his. His voice was low, soft and only audible to you, “There is one festive tradition I wouldn’t mind practicing.”

“Which is…” There was a growing knot in your stomach, already suspecting that you knew what he had meant. With Mephisto’s sudden presence after Sylus’ earlier suggestion to decorate the Christmas tree together, you couldn’t help but wondered if all of this had been some elaborate ploy of his that you had gullably let yourself be manipulated into. You hesitantly voiced your thought aloud, the knot in your belly twisting tighter at his amused laugh and sudden confession.

“I confess,” he husked, taking your lips greedily for himself. You gasped against his kisses, surrendering yourself to him almost immediately. Lost to Sylus’ relentless kisses, you didn’t even notice when Mephisto landed on the mantle, the mistletoe still in his beak as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Almost embarrassed, the mechanical crow looked away, his head tucked into his wing, as you and Sylus continued to kiss next to the newly decorated and brightly lit Christmas tree, its warm glow seeming to welcome the approaching holiday with wonderous joy.

[namism]

in the a.m. | hange zoë

➳ categories: college au, female reader

➳ warnings: nsfw (top hange, afab reader)

➳ word count: 1.8k

➳ summary: Hange wakes up next to a pretty girl in bed.

➳ notes: made in the A.M. was my favorite one direction album so why not use it as a fic title lolol

➳ cross-posted on ao3

Hange awakens to a dark room when a cool breeze glides over their skin. As they stare into nothingness, they reach over to their bedside table, feeling for their cellphone to check the time.

Their mobile lights up. Through blurry eyes, Hange tries to make out the words that flash on the screen.

'4:34 AM'.

They put the device back down. They pull themselves to a seated position on their bed, then reach out to the bedside table once more to turn on a lamp.

Their corner of the room illuminates a faint orange glow. Hange leans on the headboard, still half-awake, before noticing the presence that had been beside them all along.

You sleep soundly with your body turned to them, strands of hair partly covering your face. You're bare naked under the sheets just like them, the sight of your shape and the cleavage of your breasts serving as gentle reminders of last night's events. While the grogginess remains, Hange vividly remembers how the two of you got yourselves into this situation—from making out after a failed tutorial attempt to stumbling over to the bed, from undressing you swiftly to fucking you roughly, they remember it all too well.

It doesn't take long for you to stir awake, sensing the brightness of the lamp that disturbs your peace. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Hange's naked torso before averting your gaze to their face.

Hange pats your head, then plays with your hair.

"What time is it?"

"Around quarter to five," they say. You snuggle into Hange's pillow as they continue their gentle touches. "How's your body?"

"Probably sore." You shrug. "I won't know unless I move, but... you weren't the nicest, you know?"

Hange chuckles as an answer. They can't necessarily apologize since you enjoyed it so much and it was your incessant begging that drove them to that degree. It was a night that you two had always looked forward to, so all sores were deeply wanted.

"Get some sleep." You shake your head. "No? Class doesn't start until 10."

"But why are you up?" You pull yourself to a seated position, covering your chest with the blanket. Hange's hand falls from your head to your shoulder, their hand warm on your bare skin.

"Just woke up randomly, that's all," they say. It's the truth—their body clock has been shitty since midterms season, and as much as they want to keep it secret, the night with you has been the longest time they've slept in months.

You lean on the headboard, the blanket uncovering your feet and Hange's as you pull the sheet up to your face. When you move your body, you feel a sore on your thighs, arms, and back that triggers a gasp of pain. Memories flood your head, prompting a shyness from you that shouldn't even be there to begin with. Hange is no stranger, but damn it, why is it so nerve-wracking to be around them?

They notice your predicament. After all, that's what they always do; scientists have an eye for detail and Hange is not far off from that archetype. Their intelligence surpasses many others' and it so happens that they're bright in the romance department as well. They have it all—god, they have it all—which makes them so irresistible.

They can make you crumble in a matter of seconds, like now.

"Baby."

Their hand slides to your jaw, then your cheek, which they caress with a finger. Your stomach turns in excitement, but you suppress a reaction.

Baby, really? It's not your favorite nickname, but it's endearing when it comes from Hange. They're addicting, so addicting.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" They ask.

"Just a bit," you admit. Hange turns on their side to face you, placing a hand on your jaw before seductively tracing random patterns on your skin. Your core clenches. You feel it coming—Hange's in the mood for it, and you would be lying if you said you weren't, too. "Hange…"

"I can help you soothe that."

Leaning into their hand, you decide to roll over to their side, inevitably feeling the ache in your legs. Hange wraps an arm around you and hoists you on top of them, then instructs you to straddle their waist. Their mind goes numb upon watching the sheet fall off your body, your skin so beautiful and tits so tight.

Hange kisses you. You respond with a kiss back, moaning softly into their mouth to let them know you're in for more. When they come back for another kiss, you dodge their lips to attack their neck, a move that effectively surprises them that they tighten their grip on your waist, dragging your body closer to theirs.

A prideful smirk laces your kisses, a trail beginning from their jaw down to their clavicle, which Hange judges is enough free control as they peel your lips away before you could go down any further. They kiss you instead to put you back in your place, regaining their control before they fuck you—but you grind down on them in response, and an idea comes to mind.

"It would be bad to stuff you again since you're already sore enough," they pause in between a heated kiss and their eyes go down at your pussy, a sight that causes them to smirk, "but you can always sit on my face?"

Last night, Hange didn't bother eating you out once they had their mind settled on splitting you apart on their strap, but they're sure to taste you this time around. They tap your hips and motion for you to lift your legs, so that they could scoot down the bed and position themselves under your sore pussy and get to tasting you. Embarrassment settles on your cheeks as you look down at Hange, their hungry eyes peering up at you.

"Come on, sit on my face." Their arms wrap around your thighs and they tug your limbs so you could get closer to them, but you resist. "What's the matter?"

"I-I just—" Hange waits patiently, a reaction that relieves you. "How, um, how will you breathe?"

They smirk. You probably never had your pussy eaten out before or you simply never had ridden anyone else like this. Either way, it's a fair question, Hange thinks, since they most likely wouldn't be able to breathe that well anyway, and it would be a bad idea to freak you out mid-intercourse.

"It's part of the experience, my dear," they say. "Anyway, you don't have to worry. You got me, right?"

You nod. Hange promises to signal you if they ever want you off of them, and with no worries holding you back, you sink into their awaiting tongue.

A sigh passes your lips upon feeling their warmth. Hange takes it slow at first, giving a few licks to test the waters, before digging right in and pressing their face into your pussy harder. Their tongue digs into your entrance every so often in a rhythmic manner before gliding it across your dripping pussy to swill your juices. Hange repeats the action in a way that drives you crazy, the rhythm so good that you don't want it to stop.

You gently rock your hips into their face when their nose hits your clit, wanting to relieve the strained feeling and lack of touch in the area. Hange notices your eagerness and uses one hand to spread your legs wider. You obey out of pleasure. Their lips detach from your hole to suck on your clit, and you get lost in the feeling once again. Hange is soft at it before becoming rougher, hungrier, and more passionate, something reminiscent of last night's events when they fucked you ruthlessly into the bed.

Their two hands anchoring your thighs move closer to your cunt with light touches. Hange stretches the skin on your inner thighs as their tongue moves in between your clit and your opening. An urge to cum emerges in your gut, but you resist.

"Fuck, fuck me like that," you beg in a low tone, eyes shut tight as a response to their work on your cunt. You imagine the different other things that Hange could do to your pussy, which help your building orgasm. "Oh god, you're crazy."

With a sly grin, they tap on your thigh to catch your attention. You look down at Hange whose mouth and nose drip of slick. Maintaining eye contact, you watch them slightly withdraw their head from your cunt before spitting on your wet hole and spreading apart your lips with an experimental touch. Hange accepts your moaning as a sign to continue, so they waste no time mixing their spit into your cum to create something they could lap up again.

Your hands clutch free strands of Hange's hair as they begin yet another rhythm on your hole. You follow them with the rocking of your hips, riding what you can in a needy attempt to bring back the pleasure of release at the pit of your stomach.

Hange eats you so good—"so fucking good, Hange"—that you inevitably bounce on their tongue following the rhythm they created. You feel the heat at your stomach again, the urge to orgasm coming back quickly as you bounce hotly on them. With each bounce, your hands maneuver on their hair to tighten your grip on it while your mouth opens to a string of curses: "fuck, fuck— Hange, Hange—"

"Good— good girl," they say in between bounces. Hange stills you seconds later so they could focus on your pussy, their tongue working quickly to send you over the edge.

You crumble in a matter of seconds. Hange notes the gasp you let out as a sign of your orgasm. They feel your warm cum on their tongue and another wave of gentle rocking of your hips. They allow you to ride through your release, while they catch their breath.

You get off them once you've come down. Hange runs a hand through their hair and covers their eyes with the other.

Leaning toward them, you kiss them by surprise, uncaring of the mess on their lips. Hange groans when you swipe your tongue on their bottom lip to taste your juice. They pull you closer to them, only breaking the kiss once it's hard to breathe.

They wipe their mouth with the back of their hand, taking a mental note to shower before going back to bed. You rest your head on their chest.

"What's one thing you can't do, Hange Zoë?" They chuckle. They tidy your hair and pat their work.

"I hope you feel better," they respond. You can imagine the smirk dancing across their lips as they refer to last night's sores. You nod weakly. "I think I'm going to clean up. Are you coming?"

You come with them in the shower, after which you get back to bed quickly. Hange promises to wake you in a few hours and you drift off to sleep in their arms.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 39: Heavy Clouds

Chapter Word Count: 5,247

TW

(Spoilers but PLEASE) Decently graphic descriptions of TORTURE (not limited to: knives involved, electrocution, strangling, claustrophobia) Bringing up Mouse's trauma. Chapter…12 is brought up, I'm sorry Mingyu Mouse fights back a little

Author's Note:

I am....sorry not sorry for this. Nothing bad ever happens in BSH. I'm going to hide now :D Thanks to @pinkskiddo for being my beta reader and hating me every step of the way!

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Pacing, that was what Jeonghan has been going for the last three. Fucking. Hours. 

He started in the office upstairs after the meeting with the group, aimlessly walking around past whoever was left. A majority of their allies had gone out to search while he and Seokmin were ordered to stay behind. Quickly he got bored of the same four walls and made his way downstairs, walking around the outer wall of the warehouse floor. His nail beds were picked and bitten from his anxiety, every single worse case scenario running through his head in his worry. 

I need to get out of here. He told himself, moving to nip and pull at the skin of his lips. 

It was probably easy to slip out unnoticed from the warehouse. The one major thing he had to worry about was running into any of SVT, specifically Seungcheol. Standing near the foot of the stairs, face twisted in thought, Jeonghan had two ideas running in his head. 

One, as he thought earlier, he could walk out the doors and one could stop him. Definitely one of the perks of being a boss within SVT. 

Two, he gets someone upstairs to go with him. Siyeon was still up there with Wonwoo and Yeosang, hoping to find a glimpse of Mouse anywhere within the city. Sona…Yeah he didn’t know where she was. Once she showed up and got orders, he hadn’t seen her. There was also the fact that Seokmin was sulking upstairs, quietly boiling in guilt and anger. 

Scanning the nearly empty warehouse floor, Jeonghan made up his mind and hurried up the stairs. He popped his head into the office and called for Seokmin to talk in private for a moment. The other looked confused yet still left the office. 

Closing the door firmly behind Seokmin, Jeonghan grabbed his arm and dragged him down the stairs. “Hurry up, we need to get to the store room.” 

“What-”

“Do you want to go find Mouse or not?” Glaring over his shoulder to Seokmin, he released the other’s arm while he nodded. “Then grab a gun and let's get out of here before anyone realizes we are gone. Leave your phone here so no one can track us. 

Making their way into the store room, Jeonghan tossed his phone on a random table and went for the gun wall. He grabbed a double holster that went over his shoulder, securing it tightly then loaded two light weight handguns into their slots. Seokmin did similarly, grabbing three extra gun magazines of bullets and handing some over to Jeonghan.

“We can head out the back and grab your car.” Jeonghan adjusted his jacket, one that was actually left at the warehouse, long with thick material to stay warm, making sure his weapons were hidden. 

Placing his phone on the table, Seokmin nodded, grabbing a knife and a flashlight as well. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Peeking out of the room, Jeonghan made his way to the back door with Seokmin. He still couldn’t find Sona as he walked quickly but no one upstairs could see them from the area they walked. He sighed a shallow breath when they made it out without anyone spotting them. He didn’t know why he was so worried though. He was a leader of the group, but…Seungcheol’s words were more law in actuality. Everyone still answered to him. 

They successfully got within a few hundred feet of Seokmin’s car, eager to get on the road, but Sona came into view, stepping out from behind the vehicle. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she stepped forward, leaning herself against the driver’s side door. 

“Mind telling me where you’re going?” She tilted her head, drumming her fingers on her arms. 

“Out,” Was all Jeonghan answered, sliding his hands into his pockets. “If you will excuse us, Sona, we have someone to find.” 

“Thought King said to stay put.” She didn’t look impressed at all. 

“Sona, do not patronize me right now-” 

“Kinda hard to leave when Tempest forgot his keys.” She raised said set of keys up, clicking her tongue. “I’m driving. Boss man ordered me to stay back as well.” 

“No-” 

“Do you want to run into King? I know which district he took with some of the guys.” 

Sona unlocked the doors, sliding into the driver’s seat with ease. Jeonghan took the passenger side and Seokmin grumbled that he was in the backseat of his own car. 

“By the way, you guys aren’t as slick as you think.” 

“Yeah yeah, shut up. Now help me find Mouse and I’ll raise your salary.” 

“On it, boss.”

You were unsure of how long you had been standing in the dark. 

Nightmare , as you had come to learn your torturer’s name, was true to his word, not wanting to waste any time. 

After the cut to your cheek, his actions only started to ramp up. You went from sitting in the old metal chair to standing with your bound hands above your head, connected to a hook keeping you upright. Your feet barely touched the floor on your tiptoes and the rope continued to dig harshly into your wrists until they started to bleed. Joker had one of their underlings get another bucket of water and threw it on you again. 

The shivering that you couldn’t control had used so much of your energy to stay warm but it did nothing to help. Dickhead, as you called Nightmare going forward, got an electric powered generator and jumper cables with wet sponges clamped to them. With you standing, he slashed your shirt off with the pocket knife from earlier, the blade catching on your skin and leaving a cut to your stomach. You groaned in pain, jaw clenched tightly to the point you thought your teeth might chip. 

“You’ve got quite the history here.” Joker started, sitting down in the chair you were in previously. He crossed his legs and leaned back, obnoxiously if you might add, and raised a brow at the information in hand.

You didn’t give him an answer, breathing deeply through your nose and watching him past your eyelashes. He flipped through some papers, an annoying hum floating its way across the room from him. Dickhead stepped closer, cable tongs in hand with what you assumed was rubber gloves covering up to his forearms. 

“It wasn’t easy to find some of this information,” He started, stopping on one particular page. “Y/N L/N. Your records have a lot of redactions too.” 

The scoff you let out was followed by a huff, trying to adjust your wrists to relieve some pressure but your footing was hard to find, making it hard to find any comfort or relief. 

“And somehow you went from a normal person with a tragic past to getting all tangled up in SVT, didn’t you? How did you manage to do that?” Joker narrowed his eyes when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.” 

Dickhead jabbed the wet sponge against your base side, holding it there. The muscles in that area tensed up and the painful vibration of electricity shot through your system. You let out a cry of pain that had your breath catching in your throat, unable to move away from it to escape the pain.

“Will you answer me?” He asked over your shouts, apathetic to the situation. “Anything?” 

“Fuck off!” You yelled, thrashing until Joker gave a signal for his companion to stop. An angered roar left you, quickly taking in air to fill your burning lungs. 

Shaking his head, Joker clicked his tongue like a disappointed parent, a long sigh leaving him. “Oh, Mouse, so far we have been so kind to you, haven’t we, Nightmare?” 

“Very.” Once more, the sponge was pressed into your side with the second joining the other side.

The entirety of your body tensed up. You screamed loudly, muscles twitching and seizing. The moment the cables were removed, you fell limp, unable to hold yourself up. The pain in your wrists felt welcoming compared to the numbness and weakness that washed through you. There was a faint tingling where you were shocked, the unstable racing of your heart beating out of your chest and up into your throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as your head hung down. Dizziness swirled your vision, the floor and walls felt like it was moving in a million different directions. The ache in your side stung when you managed to shift but you didn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you weep. 

They exchanged a few hushed words before you were left alone, the lights flicking off. Left in complete darkness, you allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, hoping to be prepared for whatever they inflicted upon you next. 

All you heard from the last however long was the mind numbing dripping of water from that leaky pipe. Your throat was dry and every breath felt like sandpaper, scratchy and irritated. The room was freezing, on top of being doused twice previously in water and your energy was rock bottom. 

“You’ll be okay, Mouse.” You whispered into the blank space. “You have to be okay. They won’t kill you. They can’t. It isn’t their endgame.” 

Your eyelids felt heavy, threatening to close as the exhaustion took over. You had little to no feeling in your arms from them being raised for so long, pins and needles stinging the nerves in your upper limbs. The headache transitioned long ago into a migraine, and the pain at your waist continued to tingle and sting in the chilled air. 

While you should have been worried for yourself, you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about everyone else. 

Was Seokmin okay after finding out you had been taken? How were Jeonghan and Joshua holding up? Had any of them got any rest? Were they eating at all? How were the rest of the groups holding up? Were they close to finding you? 

You craved the safety of being around them. Their presence was what held you together when everything went wrong and right now you were alone, holding onto hope. There were cracks in the foundation of your stability. Mentally you could hold it together longer, but you were concerned of how long that hold out would be. Physically…that troubled you more, already feeling sluggish. If they came in and unhooked you, there would be no stopping you from crumbling to the floor.

Letting your eyes shut, you took in slow breaths, grounding yourself to the reality of the situation weighing down on you. 

“Have you thought about what your future would have been if you hadn’t met us?” Joshua ran his hand up and down your spine, laying on the couch in your apartment, a calm weekday night. 

You laughed, nodding your head. “At first, yeah, but not for a little bit now. I had this decent life plan the moment I left college, like one of those dreams that manifest from watching too many rom-com movies.” 

Joshua joined in your laughter, resting his cheek over the top of your head. “Tell me about it, please?” 

“When I first moved into my old apartment, I told myself three things.” You thought back, unable to stop the giggle from bubbling out. “First, I wanted to steadily climb the ladder at work to live a comfortable life where I didn’t need to worry too much about money.” 

“Got it, so you kinda have that with us.” Wrapping both arms around you, Joshua placed a kiss on your forehead. “Minus the work ladder thing, of course. Sounds boring.”

“Second…my plan was to find myself a significant other after I had the stability I craved. I remember wanting the stupid suburb house with the stupid little white fence.” You rested your chin on his chest, seeing him try not to laugh. It did sound a little dumb. “Number three…” 

Noticing your hesitation, Joshua raised a brow, pouting a little. “Number three?” 

Pushing yourself up, you straddled his hips, smiling to yourself as you shook your head. “I wanted to get married one day… Give myself a life I didn’t know I wanted until I was mostly free of my past. I…wanted a family too so I could be the parent mine weren’t to me.” 

Joshua stared up at you, wide eyed but a glimmer of fondness shining. He gazed over your face, placing his hands gently on your hips before that loving, familiar smile spread on his lips. He scoffed but his grin continued to grow wider until he couldn’t any further. 

“What?” 

“Now that you are here with us, what do you think now?” 

Reaching out, you pushed some hair back from his face and cupped his cheeks. “Well, I kinda have one and I pretty much have the second one, times two.” 

“And number three?” Leaning up on his elbows, he tilted his head to the side. 

“Hm…” You smirked, biting your lip to hold in your snicker. “You’ll have to fight Jeonghan for that one…Maybe even Seungcheol.” 

“Ew, gag.” Joshua fake gagged and you fell forward onto him, wheezing out a laugh.

“Need to spend less time with Seungkwan and Mingyu, babe.” 

—

“Y/N?” Your head snapped up to the sound of Jongho’s voice from behind you. Just as you had much earlier in the night, you watched as he crawled out the window to join you on the roof, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another one in hand. “It’s freezing out here, dude.” 

“If it’s so cold, you didn’t have to join me. You know I don’t mind sitting out here.” You took the blanket he offered either way, letting him settle close to your side. “Can’t sleep?” 

“Not really. I tried for a while but I kept tossing and turning.” He tucked his knees in towards his chest, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. There was a dark bruise already blooming on his cheek. You grabbed his chin and turned his face towards you to see it better. “I didn’t wash the dishes right so he hit me.” 

You didn’t hesitate to throw your arm over his shoulder and pulled him close. He, though typically adverse to affection, leaned his head on your shoulder. You could feel his posture slump and a sigh puffed out in the cold air. 

“I’m sorry, hun.” You rested your cheek against the top of his head, “I’m gonna get us out of here, promise.” 

“How do you think you’ll do that?” 

“Your pick; bottle rocket, sugar in the gas tank, vegetable oil in the engine, or calling child services.” You were glad to hear his giggle, a big grin on his face. “Or I could do all over them at once and really fuck them over.” 

“Bottle rocket in the exhaust pipe?” He suggested and you laughed quietly, not wanting to wake your foster parents. 

“I can definitely start there. It will take some time to get it since I got to be sneaky.” Ruffling his hair, you sighed, leaning your head back to stare up at the sky. “We’ll be okay, Jongho.” 

“What if they separate us?”  He sounded worried. “What then?” 

“Then…” You tried to think of the best thing to say at the moment. “Then you face the world with your head held high and remember that you are a smart kid. You make sure you keep your grades up so you get into a good college to be successful in the future.” 

“Do you think I’ll ever see you again?” Jongho lifted his head from your shoulder, wide eyes staring back with worry. 

“Yeah, you will definitely see me in the future.” Internally you weren’t so confident but you pinched his cheeks, seeing him cringe and swat your hands away. “I’ll make sure we see each other in the future. And I sure as hell hope fate helps with that.” 

“I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Jongho.” 

They had been out searching for hours . 

Joshua’s skin was crawling with well hidden anxiety but Seungcheol was fuming every step of the way. While he attempted to keep a level head, Cheol wasn’t hesitating to tear things apart as time went on. The leader would enter a space with authority and at the drop of a hat would have him and their men that they brought along trashing a space before moving on when Mouse wasn’t found. 

“It’s been hours, how has no one found any signs of her?!” For the first time, Seungcheol vocalized his anger, standing in the most recent drug den they raided. 

Joshua ran a hand through his already tousled and knotted hair, sighing for the hundredth time within the last two hours. Leaning himself against a half broken table after checking its stability, he placed his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths. Cheol’s anger was palpable and it was starting to get to Joshua and pull at his last string of resolve.

“We have hundreds searching the city, we’ve been searching. It would be a good idea if we branch out from the city and look at surrounding areas.” Joshua heaved out the suggestion, throwing a hand up in thought. “I don’t know where else we can look around here, Cheol.” 

Seungcheol pulled his phone out and made a call to Wonwoo, asking him to contact half their help to expand their search further out. Joshua watched as his friend paced, pulling at his hair, shaking with unraveled concern and frustration. 

“What do you mean Seokmin and Jeonghan are gone?” He stopped his pacing, confused as his eyebrows furrowed together. “Where-? Huh? With? Okay…Fuckers…Just, tell them not to be fucking idiots and that Sona is in charge of them- Yeah, just keep me updated on anything you guys find and I’ll keep you updated here.” 

As he hung up, Joshua scoffed, shaking his head. “What did you expect them to do? Listen in a situation like this?” 

“No but- I don’t know- At least they have one person with them…” Seungcheol grumbled, still fuming down at his phone. “We are going on hour seven and nothing. How does someone simply disappear without a trace?” 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Joshua let his eyes well with tears, jaw clenched uncomfortably tight. He dropped his head, raising a hand to rub and message at the back of his neck. His shoulder, neck, and back were tense, moving wasn’t the best idea but he was running on waning adrenaline, maybe a coffee from the morning, and anxiety. The necklace Mouse had given him for Christmas rested heavy around his neck as he felt the metal against his hand. Joshua let himself trace the chain and brought it to his lips, gently kissing the pendent. 

They were going to find Mouse, he had been chanting it every building they entered into and tore top to bottom. No figurative stone was going to go unturned but he worried for the state she’d be in once they got her home. While he knew Mouse was strong and could withstand a decent amount, what were the people that took her submitting to her to? Was she holding onto hope like they were trying to? It was getting difficult to keep his head on straight. 

Cheol rested himself against the broken desk beside Joshua, shoulders slumping. “I’m starting to think like Han, Shua.” 

“Yah,” Joshua’s head shot up, barely holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Don’t you start with that shit either. Come on, man.” 

“I-” Cheol paused, raising his hands to his face and sniffling, which caught Joshua off guard. “Fuck, man. I can’t fall apart right now.” 

“Do not-” Joshua shuttered, unable to keep his voice stable. He let the tears he was holding in slip down his cheeks. 

Seungcheol threw an arm over Joshua’s shoulder and tugged him into his side. Though quiet, they cried in relative silence, letting the stress of the situation take hold of their emotions. The grip on Joshua’s shoulders was tight as Cheol muttered something he couldn’t make out, maybe a prayer, grounding the two of them to reality. Neither of them heard the footsteps approach but a voice caught their attention. 

“ King, Hades ?” There was hesitation in their crew member’s voice, a nervous shift to his gaze. “We- Uh…The entire place is fully clear, even the underground sections. Whenever you are, we are all ready to move out again.” 

Almost instantly, Joshua straightened up, wiping his face and stood. “We’ll meet you out at the cars, clear out.” 

Once he stepped out and walked away, Cheol sighed.

“I don’t think she is strong enough like the rest of us, she probably can’t withstand anything they might do to her.” Seungcheol ran both hands over his face, collecting his emotions as he stood, shaking his head. 

“Hey, man, don’t underestimate my girlfriend.” Joshua’s attempt at a joke was met with a roll of the leader’s eyes. He brought the pendant on his lips again, saying a silent prayer for her safety. “She will be okay. Mouse is a fighter. I’m sure she is giving whoever took her a run for their money.”

“I hope you are right on this one.”

“All you have to do is answer the question, Y/N…” 

“And like I keep saying,” You spit out a decent amount of blood, thrashing despite your arms still being hung above your head, “Sit on a cactus, suck a dick, and choke on it.” 

Beside you, Dickhead clicked his tongue, ready to aim another punch to your side. It would make for the tenth punch or kick he had landed as far as you counted. Both sides of your abdomen and the left side of your face hurt like hell. You didn’t even want to imagine how you looked…Hell, you were having difficulty keeping your left eye open from the hits to your face. Joker stopped him though, standing up and strolling over towards you slowly, shaking his head. 

“You know,” He took a knife from the other man’s belt and unsheathed it. “You are holding on much longer than any of us expected. Here I thought you'd break a long time ago, but here we are… Is it the trauma from finding your parents dead from an OD?” 

You swallowed thickly and tried not to say anything to his inquiry, needing to breathe through your mouth from how bad your face and nose felt. With the knife in hand, biting down on the inside of your cheek, unsure of his reactions in comparison to his counterpart seeing as he only asked questions so far. 

“Or…was it when you snuck into that building and saw SVT?” 

You stopped breathing, snapping your mouth shut. 

How fucking long had they been watching you? 

“You saw, what? Two people get shot?” He started to circle your hanging form like you were prey, toying with the knife. “Or…was it when Mingyu was shot?” 

That…yeah, that struck a cord inside that had you snarling at him. “Keep his name out of your mouth, pig!” 

“Oh~” He chuckled lowly, tilting his head to the side. “Protective, aren’t we?” 

Joker leaned close, using the knife to brush your hair back. “Would you like to know a secret?” 

When you gave no reaction, he brought his lips close to your ear. “We gave the order to shoot first.” 

If you were an old cartoon character, steam would be blowing out your ears comically. 

You pulled your head away from him before quickly slamming the side of your head into his face. There was the telltale, unmistakable cracking sound and he yelled out at the unexpected pain. Your head spun from the nonstop migraine you’ve had pounding since you first woke up, yet the pain was welcoming compared to their treatment. Your cheek and eye area were pulsing, definitely swollen, along with the pain in your side from the electrocution. Dickhead was having fun using you as a punching bag when you didn’t answer Joker . 

“You…are going to regret that.” Joker got into your field of vision properly, eyes full of rage. 

His nose was broken if the cracking of bone wasn’t enough, slightly tilted to the side, crooked. Blood trailed down from his nostrils and into his mouth, making him spit off to the side. 

Harshly, his hands jutted out and wrapped around your neck, sneezing and cutting off your air flow. You gasped for air, struggling against your confines and swinging your legs out to get him away but it was useless. His grip tightened and the longer he strangled you, the more your vision started to get hazy around the edges. The moment your eyes started to roll back, on the verge of passing out, and your thrashing became sluggish, Joker released his hold. 

The rush of air that filled your lungs was enough to make you go limp. Your head was light in the worst way and your extremities were shaky. Blood rushing through your ears hindered you from hearing their conversation, not that there was a care to give other than breathing. You did notice one of them move before the chain holding the hook up was loosened and your body crumbled unceremoniously to the floor. 

Your bound wrists were grabbed as someone dragged you across the ground, the half broken ceiling lights fading in and out of your clouded vision. There was barely any energy left to struggle, too lethargic and woozy to figure out what they were doing with you. Whoever was dragging you dropped your arms and another pair of hands were tying your legs together.

You tried to focus your eyes on one of the men in the room, their words murky and distant but quickly stopped to save your strength. The light above that stared down at you was blocked by Kihyun’s big fucking head and his ugly ass smirk. He said something you couldn’t hear so you didn’t provide a response, only for a swift kick to land against the side of your abdomen and the pain had you curling in on yourself. From the feeling alone, you had a good handful of broken ribs, at least you were feeling something at this point. 

A few sets of hands grabbed you next, hauling you up from the cold ground and carrying you somewhere. You were dead weight in their arms but they didn’t seem to struggle, being tossed in a crate or box. Furrowing your brows together, you let your good eye flit around, confusion flooding your mind. 

“Wait-” The moment everything clicked, you cleared your throat, rough and frail from Joker’s strangling. Two unknown men went to close the top and you attempted to set up, shaking your head quickly. 

“Wait no-” Someone’s hand forcibly pushed you down and the box was closed and locked shut. You beat your hands against the top, darkness shrouding you. “Let me out!” 

The words had no force behind them, weak screams only bouncing off the walls of your confines. Continuously, you beat your restrained hands and feet against the top and sides as the panic rose in your chest. There wasn’t a way to calm yourself, breathing coming out in short, sobbing gasps. At some point you couldn’t make out any of the words you desperately tried to babble out. You hopelessly dropped your limbs, praying your eyes adjusted to the limited light soon. 

You couldn’t shift comfortably – or at all –, knees bent up with no way to straighten out. The only soothing thing was the cool metal against your barely clothed back, which gave you an answer of what kind of box you were in. The anxiety of being locked in used up the rest of your energy, your throat and sides hurt horrible, and your waning brain power struggled to take in the situation Monsta X placed you in. 

As your eyes adjusted, you noticed the decent sized air holes from what you could tell, but they were near your feet so you couldn’t look out and investigate around. Any attempt to focus on hearing anything came up short, your ears hadn’t stopped ringing. Raising your wrists enough to see them, you determined there was no chance to get free, not even your legs with how small the space was. 

Leaning your head back with a soft thunk, you took the pain radiating through your body as a sign that you weren’t dead . You’d grasp tightly on that fact to keep you going until you were home, however long that could be. You weren’t sure how much more your body could take. Nightmare didn’t pull a single punch or kick, he was uncaring with slashing, and the eclectic shocks had your heart all over the place. Now, in the metal box, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were going to hurt you with next. 

You didn’t realize you passed out until a loud, rattling bang jolted you awake. The entire box shook violently and you shrieked in terror at the suddenness of it. Your body shook, tensing up in anticipation of another hit to come. 

The knowing feeling of a looming panic attack built up quickly, fully triggered when hit after hit beat down against the metal. Whatever items they were beating your confines with was making a deafening, metal on metal sound. It reverberated off the walls, never letting up, and you struggled to breath through your (justified) hysteria. No amount of screaming or pleading was going to stop their task of your torture and their entertainment. 

You knew it probably wasn’t long yet it felt like it went on for hours. With your back fully against the bottom, you felt every single vibration like it shocked your system. It hurt even if it wasn’t hitting you directly. You could make out the edges of the box denting from certain hits, making the already small space smaller the longer it went on. 

With your hands bound, you weren’t even about to cover your ears to block out some of the sound. 

“Make it stop!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, hearing your voice echoing in your ears, kicking at the sides the best you could. 

It didn’t stop, tears were streaming down your face as you wailed helplessly. Trembling was the only thing you could do besides pray for relief. 

You could feel yourself beginning to slip into a dissociative state, maybe from self preservation. The banging was starting to sound far off in the distance, out of body the longer it went on. The last time you really had a dissociative episode was in the shower after Mingyu was shot. You could remember the metallic smell of blood, similar to the inside of the box that surrounded you. There was that nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach like you were falling out of the sky. The air around you was stuffy, your breathing was shallow the more you disconnected from reality. 

If the hits stopped, you weren’t able to tell. The repeated sound replayed in your head in time with the beating of your heart. Any pain you felt was pins and needles, or washing over with numbness, mind and body attempted to regulate their functions to protect you, if your body could protect you.

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@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel @clownprincehoeshi @kpopandbookschild @honeybunchcrunch @black-swan-blog27 @peachie-wonu @kpopsimpsblog @choppedballoondetective

[mountquokka]

Attention

Bang Chan X fem!reader

Word count: 1,848

Warnings: dom Chan, sub reader, bondage, heavy amounts of teasing, orgasm denial, sir kink, begging, no protection (no), pet names (baby, babygirl, babe), hair pulling, mirror sex, slight choking

Summary: You're bored and just trying to find a way to past the time

Notes: This will have a second part 🤭

Taglist <3: @hongjoongtime117 @lee-sang1625

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays🎄☃️🎅🏻

Chan was with 3racha working on a song for their next comeback and you were alone in the dorm. You find ways to pass time. You clean any room that seemed remotely dirty and reorganized random books on the bookshelf. Looking at your phone hoping the time would go by faster yet nothing kept you occupied long enough.

You then get an idea. 

You remember you had bought an outfit to surprise him with. You knew he would love it and wouldn’t be able to resist you, so you kept it hidden. Until now…

You went to your bedroom, fetched the box you hid in the back of the closet and opened the lid. You took out the red lingerie with matching thigh highs. You admired the soft material and started changing. Once changed, you walked over to the mirror next to the bed and smiled at yourself. The lingerie hugged your body perfectly. The sheer material with lacy detail left little to imagination.

Afterwards, you put on a little lipgloss and sat on the bed. You took a pillow, placed it in front of you and put your phone on it.

You go to your camera and set the timer. You do various poses, showing off the set. When you were satisfied, you sent them to Chan with the message “I miss you sir, please come home soon. I really need you” You wait for his response with a mischievous giggle.

Chan was in the studio trying to find lyrics when he felt his phone vibrate. Usually he'd ignore it but he thought that a little break might help his writer's block. He pulls it out and sees it’s a text from you. 

He opens it and his eyes widen. He clears his throat and excused himself from the studio and went to the bathroom. He pulled up the pictures you sent again, smirking. He called you.

When you saw him calling, you smiled and answered, putting it on speaker. “Hey babe, how’s work going?” You asked innocently “Oh babygirl, I know what you’re doing” you giggled “I don’t know what you are talking about sir” he growled into the phone “watch it” you could tell you were getting to him so you push a little further. You slide your hand into your panties and moan at how wet you already were “Sir please? I need you, I’m already so wet for you.” You add a hint of tease in your tone. He groans a soft fuck, trying so hard to not pull his cock out and release right there in that bathroom. “You’re playing a dangerous game baby, you better watch it before I punish you” 

You smiled to yourself, you had him right where you wanted him “maybe that’s what I want” the phone goes quiet for a few seconds before Chan replies in a deep lust filled voice “you just wait” With that he hangs up and heads back to the studio and starts packing his things.

 “Hey everything ok?” Han asked and Changbin looked him slightly concerned. “Yeah I’m good but I gotta go… y/n needs… help. with… something? GottaGo!” Then he was out the door. Changbin and Han look at each other and just shake their heads and get back to work.

When Chan arrived at the dorms, he drop his stuff at the door. He instantly went to the bedroom where you were. He opens the door to see you laying there on the bed, in a sexy pose, looking back at him. He smirks and takes off his shirt. He walks to the bed and stops at the edge. You get on your knees in front of him on the bed. “Such a naughty girl, you really thought it was a good idea to tease me while I’m working?” “It seemed like you were enjoying” You giggled, continue your teasing. He grabs you by the throat and brings your ear to his mouth “you think this is funny? You better drop this teasing act before your punishment gets worse” you shiver and  thought for a moment, wanting to keep this game going. You put on an innocent look and answered “I just wanted your attention sir” you drag your hand against his abs, biting your lower lip. He grabs your wrist with his free hand before you can get any lower. “And now you have it” He lets go of your throat with a growl and walks to the dresser across from the bed.

He pulls out a box from one of the drawers. He takes out rope and walks back over to the bed, you’re already in position. He smirks at your eagerness and he gets onto the bed, kneeling next to you. “Arms” you raised your arms up and he started tying the rope in a basic but pretty design up to your elbow.

He gets between your legs and hovers over you. He starts kissing you and his hands roaming your body. His kisses start making its way down your body. You moan as he starts going lower. You take your tied arms and grab his hair as he kisses your inner thigh. Chan moves away and slams your arms down over your head. “Who said you could touch me? You wanted to be a tease so your lost your privilege” you whine, realizing what the REAL punishment is.

“Now be a good girl and keep your arms there”

He starts taking the bottom of the lingerie off and admired your glistening pussy before him. “you look so beautiful babygirl, so wet” he takes his index and middle finger and drags it against your folds. Your fingers twitched trying to hold back from touching. He continues to move his fingers against you as he starts bringing his face closer. He starts with a lick to your clit and you tense at the pleasure. He feels you tense up so he lightly rubs your thigh. 

He starts lapping at your folds and your hand goes to his hair, unable to stop yourself. He takes your wrists into his hand and continues licking and sucking your clit. He held your arms far enough where you couldn’t reach him even if you weren’t tied up. He pulls off your clit with a pop and looks up at you. 

“What did I say about not touching me? You just don’t wanna listen today do you?” You mewl and squirm in his hold “No wait please I’m sorry. It was a reflex. I didn’t mean t-” He cuts you off by going back to your folds also plunging two fingers into you. He pumps at a fast pace while sucking your clit. You wriggle against him as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach builds rapidly. Your moans get louder and more high pitched as you feel your release approach.

When your legs started shaking, he knew you were close and removes his fingers and mouth. You whined as your high starts to die down. “No cumming yet baby, we’re just getting started”

He gets off the bed taking off his pants but leaving on his boxers, the tent very prominent. You eyes fall to his dick and your mouth starts watering. The wet spot in his boxers doesn’t go unnoticed along with the twitch when he realized you were staring. “My eyes are up here babygirl” he says with a smirk. You look up at him with doe-like eyes “Please I want it in my mouth” He groans at your response “Do you think you deserve it? Especially with how you were acting earlier?” You pout, knowing the right answer “No…” He hums at your response.

Chan unties the rope but still pins them down so you can’t touch him “You still can’t touch me baby, your punishment isn’t over yet” You whine loudly. He flips you onto your stomach and moves behind you. He pulls you up by your hips so your ass meets his bulge. He slowly rocks himself against you groaning at the friction. You feel him twitching against you and you whimper, trying to push back against him. He holds you hips in place and continues grinding against you faster, more precum building in his boxers. 

“Please sir just fuck me already. I really need you please” he smirks and pulls down his boxers. He lines himself up to your entrance, but he doesn’t push in right away. “Hmmm, I don’t know if I should. Maybe I’ll just stay like this”  “No no please, sir I wanna feel you so bad! I’ll be good please, no more teasing I really really want you” Chan groaned at your begs. He slams into you, you let out a scream. “Damn baby you feel so good, still so tight” Your eyes roll back as you moan at his words. You grip the sheets in front of you until your knuckles turn white. You mewl out his name as he groans at you clenching him, throwing his head back. His speed increasing the more you clench him.

He looks over to the side and sees the mirror across from the bed. Then an idea pops in his head. He moves you and places you facing the mirror. He grabs your hair and pulls you up to look at yourself. “Look at how fucked out you look on my cock” you whimper as you make eye contact with him and then yourself, taking in you disheveled appearance. He grabs your boobs and squeezes them as you fall apart underneath him. He plays with your nipples through the bra of the lingerie and you start clenching around him more. He groans and starts picking up more speed. 

He starts thrusting harder getting close to his high. You start shaking getting close to yours too. “S-sir I’m gonna-“ he groans, not being able to hold back anymore. He flips you onto your back, continuing his rough pace “I wanna see your face while you cum for me” You grip the sheets next to you. He interlaced one of his hands into yours “you can touch me now baby” You wrap your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Cum for me babygirl” he moans against your lips. Your release crashes over you. Chan swallowing your screams as his hips stutter. He releases into you and you moan at the warmth of his cum painting your walls. You wrap your arms around his neck. “You took your punishment so well baby” You giggle into his neck as you come down from your high.

Chan pulls out if you and goes to the bathroom. He wets a rag and comes back into the room. He wipes you down then goes to the closet. He grabs one of his hoodies and puts it on you. He grabs boxers for himself and puts them on. He gets back on the bed and cuddles up with you. He kisses your forehead as you drift to sleep.

“You’ll never fail to get my attention babygirl”

[cloveroctobers]

so yeah — 7. Roman Reigns [Winter Prompts]

A/N: uh oh, I’m dabbling a little more for this man! Also happy holidays to you all because I honestly doubt I’ll have anything else out before whichever holiday you celebrate. Hope you enjoy this piece and that it brings you comfort and feels? 🤪🤍

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: SITUATIONS — My flight was cancelled and I went home to find my ex cheating on me, so now I'm at this pub.

WARNINGS: Language, break ups, reference to the netflix film, “Malcolm & Marie,” choosing to deal with your emotions at a later time, & strangers to friends trope?

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“Just say the word sis and I’ll slash all three of his tires, kick out the window shield, and leave multiple bad reviews of him as a screenwriter,” your best friend repeats over the phone while you use your elbow to push the swivel doors.

Rolling your bag into the lobby you close your eyes and let out a deep breath, “As much as I appreciate you always sitting on go, Malcolm isn’t worth it and I honestly don’t feel like riding around much more tonight, especially to bail you out.”

“Alright girl…I just wish you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas because of his dumbass.”

Flights were cancelled, “until further notice,” and you accepted that defeat more than anything.

“I won’t be.” You answer as you spy security keeping watch of the entrance to the casino.

The Medallion, the joint hotel and casino was a random spot you decided to stop at after that treacherous revelation you received. You had your own home in Miami, whereas your boyfriend of three years, screenwriter and producer Malcolm Elliot—who had his own home back in LA—thought the greatest gift to give you three days before Christmas, was to have his ex-girlfriend up in your house and bed.

The pulsing anger that dripped from the center of your forehead down to your entire being was tough to vocally describe. You were more angry than hurt because why would he play in your face like that? Putting in all this time just for him to decide to go back to the one relationship that was full of disagreements and doubts, just based off what he told you that is. Ultimately you learned that Malcolm Elliot was not the man or enough for you.

And that’s on Toni Braxton!

Closing your eyes, you took another moment to collect yourself before stepping forward, heels clacking against the polished floor, and bag rolling beside you. The process getting into the casino was easy, it was going on 3am so you understood the slow pace and lack of others as you made your way through the vibrant lights and empty seats.

“What can I get you?”

Snapping out of your daze, you turn your head to the left, response getting caught in your throat for a second as you got a good look of the handsome man behind the bar. He was dressed in a pinstriped tux with a whole tie (that didn’t match) and his dark shiny hair neatly brushed back.

There’s amusement in his eyes as he pushes off the counter, tucking the rag he was just wiping the bar with down below, “Or do you need a few more minutes alone burning a hole into my shelf?”

You scoff, resting your cheek into your balled up knuckles, “Is it that obvious I’m pissed off?”

He shrugs, “It’s not that hard for me to tell…interacting with people and analyzing them is part of the job.”

“Is that so…Mr…?”

He smiles at you and it almost makes your breathing hitch as he takes his time walking over to hold his hand out, “Just call me Joe.”

“Okay, just joe. I’m really a martini kinda girl so whatever you have left that won’t make me pick a fight with one of your machines would be nice.” You place your hand in his, which is actually warm and soft against yours as he gives your hand a firm squeeze.

Joe dips his head as he moves to get to work, “You got it.”

The phone that’s face down on the counter is buzzing madly that the side eye you’re giving it, makes Joe peek at your expression from over his shoulder. “I’m guessing who ever is on the other line, fucked up big time? I also get the impression you hardly ignore a phone call on purpose…depending on who the person is.”

Snatching the phone up, you roll your eyes as you quickly go to shut it off and toss it into the tote bag that seated right on top of your hard suitcase. “you’ve got that right, Joseph! A no good sorry excuse for a man is who’s on the other line. How do you cheat on someone a few days before Christmas? And not just with anyone, a ex who’s also an addict that you put on blast in one of your films?”

The pulsating ache was starting to hit harder now that you had to massage it some. Rolling your shoulders a bit, you sat up straight, trying to get rid of some of the tension. Joe sends a pretty martini your way, which you latch onto.

“I guarantee he’s not as great as he thinks he is…especially if he thinks it’s okay to be disrespectful by cheating and on someone like you.”

“You don’t know me, Joe.”

“Yet…but if you stay here until sunrise, I’m sure you’ll confirm my assumptions for me.”

Waggling your finger, you say with slits in your eyes after tossing back the drink, “I know you’re not trying to get me to partake in getting under to get over, are you Joseph? If so I might just have to turn into a Karen and request to speak to the manager.”

“You’re looking at both the manager and owner.” He states with ease.

“Oop, okay big boss!” You laugh while snapping your fingers, “Just shut me on up.”

“Nah, of course not. We’re just getting started.” The intensity in his eyes is enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, so you just simply roll your eyes, a smile playing on the corner of your lips.

Joe flicks his eyes from your lips back to your eyes, “See…that’s all I want to see tonight. A beautiful smile on an even more stunning woman.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Good lookin’ business man.” You cross a leg over the other, “I’ll take another, please.”

Joe nods as he holds up some fingers, “Your limit will be three, so two more.”

You huff, “I didn’t come here to be bossed around but…it’s fine. I’ve got shrooms in my bag.”

The man frowns, “And you were getting on a flight with those?”

“Of course not!” You shake your head, “I only have enough to make me enjoy the flight.”

Joe wasn’t sure how accurate that was since most people needed someone they trusted to keep them grounded but all he responds with is, “…You are something else.”

“It’s Christmas!” You argue.

The man mutters, “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“I can be your sugar plum fairy on the dance floor.” You suddenly say, “So you can feel the spirit.”

“…if slow dancing is truly what you want, I’m happy to oblige.” Joe shrugs before continuing on, “You don’t need liquid courage or shrooms to have a good time with me though.”

“You talk a good game…you do this with all your pretty customers?” You stare at him from underneath your eyelashes.

“Nah…I’m actually rarely down here at this hour but there’s a reason I’m here for the dusk shift.” He hands you another and leans over to whisper, “Must have been for me to meet something good.”

“There you go with your assumptions.” You sigh bringing the rim of the cocktail to your lips, “Alright, just call me Joe. Why are you lonesome during the holidays? There’s no chance there’s not someone at home waiting for you?”

He grins at you, lightly caressing at his facial hair, “Are you fishing?”

“Not at all. It’s too cold.” You easily respond, making Joe blink at you, while you hold his stare before slipping him a wink, “C’mon, I’ll give you a synopsis of my shit? I was supposed to be on a flight to visit my family for the holidays, flight got cancelled, went back to my home, just to find my shitty boyfriend who’s in the film industry, entertaining his ex girlfriend, Marie. Sounds like a cheesy sitcom doesn’t it? Malcolm and Marie! Yet I’m the one looking stupid! Those bitches.”

You finish the rest of the drink and slam it back on the counter.

“You’re not stupid.” Joe debates, “No one expects to be cheated on. You just expect someone to love you in return and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s his lost, remember that.”

“Aren’t you sweet but I’m starting to realize maybe I wasn’t in love with him,” you rest your elbows on the counter with a deep sigh before wiggling one finger at him, “But we’re doing no deflecting this morning! We’re basically friends at this point, blabbering at almost four in the morning.”

Joe shrugs with his bottom lip pushed out, “If you say so.”

“Heart to heart now and then we dance our sorrows away?”

Joe fires back with a frown, “Who says I’m sad?”

“You’re here at your place of business all by yourself during the holidays.” You state, “While you should be at home, tucked in bed with a loved one.”

Joe exhaled through his nose, “I got hit with an ultimatum to get married by a certain time and I don’t do well with others planning out shit for me. So…she left, decided to get in a relationship with someone we went to college with, and took the damn dog too.”

“Booo! Not the dog! And here I thought you were going to say she got struck by a car and left for dead or something.” You ramble.

Joe furrowed his brows, “Things don’t always have to be tragic.”

“I hear it builds character.”

Joe felt his eye twitch, “You want me to be the villain?”

“Something tells me you’ve already been through that,” you tilt your head to the side staring at the mysterious man who only gave some details here and there as this part of the world sleeps, “But I think I like talking to this guy instead.”

Joe hums, getting lost in thought but chose not stay much on that. You take this time to look around the empty casino before spinning back around to meet the stranger’s eyes, “Let’s make each other’s wishes come true?”

“Meaning?”

“We dance until sunrise.”

Joe grumbled as he glanced up at the ceiling, “You and this dancing.”

“Don’t tell me you have two left feet?”

“What?” Joe scowls, “I can do a little something.”

“Meet me on the dance floor then.”

Joe asserts, “It’s a casino not the club.”

“Aw, those are probably just closing now.” You’re pouting and it’s honestly the cutest thing the man has ever seen.

“Good, you don’t need to be in there.” Joe states as if it’s a fact, but he can only imagine how you’re in the club and that’s most likely a hand full.

You’re confused, “Where do I need to be?”

“Wherever you want to be.”

“You were supposed to sing Donell jones in that moment and you flopped.”

“…You always this much of a yapper in the mornings?” Joe crossed his arms.

“I maybe a morning person—or night owl? That going to be a problem for you bestie?”

Joe winced, “As long as you stop calling me bestie.”

“Only special people gain that title so you should be honored.” You hop off the stool, stumbling a little bit but catch yourself on the counter as you pick up on a sigh from the man behind you, “All part of my performance, Joseph. Tens across the boards! Now get over here.”

“You’re kinda bossy to someone who can escort you out.”

Spinning with your hair flicking behind you, it’s your turn to turn up the heat, “You’d miss me if you did.”

Joe pretends to think about it, humming but eventually makes his way over to you. You take your time taking in his appearance up close, “Did you ever play football?”

“Yeah…a little.”

“I know a baller when I see one.” You snap your fingers again, “Okay…so tell me…favorite Christmas song of all time?”

“Here’s a secret…” He’s leaning towards you again, “I hate Christmas.”

Gasping you latch onto your fur covered chest and almost choke on your saliva, making the man reach out towards you but you fan him away as you wheeze, “…What’re you some sort of krampus?”

He scrunches up his lips, “Do I look like some sort of half goat, half demon to you?”

“Ask me once the shrooms kick in.” You sass as you walk by him, making Joe pinch the space in between his brows.

When did you even?

“I’m going to assume that it’s because the ex broke up with you on Christmas?” You announce over your shoulder.

Joe slowly follows behind you, hands clasped behind his back as you walk through the aisles of slot machines looking for the perfect spot, “No. She actually did that around my birthday.”

“…I can fight her if you want?”

A rumble of laughter builds in his chest, “Appreciate that but everything isn’t so one sided.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

You left space open for the man to elaborate but he doesn’t so you sigh holding out your hands, “Hand in mine, babe. Looks like I’m not going to be the nutcracker tonight—you’re the nut by the way—so hold on to me and all your troubles will be miles away.”

He stares at your hand before cautiously taking yours in his, carefully he places his hand on your waist that buried beneath the warmth of the coat you have on as he predicts, “Have yourself a merry little Christmas?”

“You got it.” You sniff as you step closer and get a whiff of how good Joe smells: warm, woody, and slightly floral yet sweet, “That one makes me cry every time.”

“Hey now,” Joe moves to snake his arm around your waist as if to steady you if your knees so happened to get weak again, “There’s no need for that when you’ve got an Angel right in front of you.”

You snort out some laughter going to rest your head on Joe’s chest, which catches him off guard but he keeps on swaying.

“…You still believe in Christmas after what that Malcolm asshole did?”

You find comfort in Joe’s chest while keeping the tune of your favorite song in your head, “‘Course. Christmas is about a lot of things but just because someone did me wrong doesn’t mean all the love that I still have should go to waste, ya know? So shut up and feel my love, stranger turned bestie.”

It’s joe turns to roll his eyes but he takes in your words. You’re the woman that walked into his place of business, freshly cheated on, and ready to shoot laser eyes into the bottles that sat on the shelf, yet as time went on with a little liquor on your side and “magic,” Joe felt like just maybe your presence alone was supposed to be here.

To remind him that the holidays didn’t have to be so dreadful like they’ve been the past few years.

Slow dancing together with no one in the room was so intimate, so personal, and it wasn’t something Joe would be open to. There’s plenty of others who may or may not have been under the influence who have tried but he always had his business face on walking through. He’s been closed off for a while now and here he was with you, someone that he didn’t know who’s just been thrown for a loop, who just wanted to have a kind moment that didn’t feel so shitty.

Joe started to feel like he should be glad that he could provide that for you, without truly knowing you.

Maybe he did.

When the alarm goes off, signaling that it was time for him to shut down the casino, it brings you two out of your own little world. He’s clearing his throat, watching as you slowly lift your head from his chest. He wants to caress your face but feels like that might be too much, so he just gives your hand that he’s still holding onto, a gentle squeeze before stepping back to close out.

You’re back on the stool, room slightly spinning in various colors as you smile with your chin tucked on your fingers.

“Ive got to count the cash in the back but you’re welcome to stay here if you want…as long as you don’t fall asleep on me.” Joe’s got the register drawer in his hands as he glances at you.

You’re swaying but respond, “I’m far from tired…I actually want ramen.”

He laughs, “fortunately for you, I know a guy. If you want to stick around? We can head out to the lounge to enjoy it together?”

“I’d like that, Joseph.”

It’s a breath taking smile he sends your way before leaving you to enjoy your trip briefly. You’re not sure how long he’s gone until his hand touches the back of your bare neck that your Bob doesn’t fully cover. Together you take your things, walking towards the lobby as Joe locks up the casino doors before turning back to you. He leads the way to the lounge thats tucked to the right of the casino by the shut down escalators, leaving you again but not without telling his security, Heyman, to watch over you, while he went to retrieve the ramen you mentioned.

Once he returns, he doesn’t hesitate sitting beside you. He has all various types of the dish that has you smiling even harder now.

“Forgot to ask which you prefer so I figured why not get all from my guy? He’s the best of the best.” Joe shrugs, followed by a sheepish smile at the spread on the table.

Picking up a container, you sit back on the couch, ready to dig in. “Looks like we made it.”

“Huh?” Joe questions after picking a container himself, slightly glancing at you as he sits back against the couch as well.

You softly smile as you lift your chin in the direction you were staring out at, “To sunrise.”

“Oh, yeah. Looks like we did.” Joe replies, staring out at the glow of sun that’s ready to beam out from the dark navy skies.

Before you sip at the broth you say, “I’m going to rest my head on your shoulder now.”

“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.”

You already did and this man didn’t even recognize the love he gives.

In due time, maybe you’d tell him.

Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

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Continue with my winter anthology prompts here.

[curliiwurlii]

Let’s Start the Day! (Alt tape)

After solving another tedious puzzle, Riley finally got another tape. Instead of a brand-new tape, however, it’s one they’ve watched before- “Let’s Start the Day”.

Confused by the reappearance of a previous tape, they put it in the VCR.

The video is already much different from the last, starting off with the perspective of what seems to be someone on a hospital bed, with 2 surgeons above them, everything having a hazy look to it. After some time, the patient’s eyes close.

Suddenly, the tape quickly switches to the episode with a title card saying “Let’s Start the Day!” with music in the background glitching in and out. The title card fades away, with Amanda rising from her bed, yawning and then looking out the window.

“Good- morning… b-birdies…” Amanda trails off, her smile transitioning into pure horror. The music quickly fades away as the camera changes to the view of the outside-but instead of birds chirping at the window, they’re dead. Rotting. Bugs picking at their flesh.

Amanda turns away from the window, her eyes quickly darting to the camera.

“I-I’m Amanda! Let’s start the day!” She says, worry still seeping through her words.

“First, I need to make my bed. Will you help me? We need to fluff the pillows and smooth out the blanket. Which should we do first?”

Riley chooses to tap on the pillows.

Amanda is about to hop on the bed, but suddenly stops.

“Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter- I’m too tired to do this, anyway.” Amanda says, running her eyes. “I don’t even want to do anything today, not after that horrible dream… what kind of dreams do you have?”

“What if I tell her something SHE’s afraid of? It might be a way to get more info out of her…” Riley thinks. After pondering for a moment, they say their answer to the screen.

“The butcher.”

“STOP REMINDING ME-“ The static cuts Amanda off, resuming the episode as how it was supposed to be.

“I should probably head downstairs for breakfast. It’s my favorite meal of the day! But first, I’ll have to get dressed.” Amanda opens her closet, only to find dirty shirts and shorts with mud all over them.

“Oh COME ON! Now I have nothing to wear today!” Amanda whines, stomping her foot on the ground. “Sigh… I’ll just have to wear these pajamas for the rest of the day.” she says, walking out of her room.

The static cuts to Wooly in the kitchen, sleeping with his head on the kitchen counter. Stomping can be heard from the stairs, waking Wooly up.

“Wh-whuh?” He mumbles, as Amanda angrily enters the room. “Oh, morning Amanda. What’s up?” He asks, still drowsy as he rubs his eyes.

“Ugh, this morning has been the WORST! The birds are dead outside, all my clothes are dirty, and worst of all… I had the SCARIEST. NIGHTMARE. EVR!” She responds, clearly exhausted of just about everything now.

“Oh god, you too?” Wooly asks, surprised by her response. “Geez, looks like we both didn’t have much sleep. Haha…”

“Oh forget it. I’m heading to the couch.”

“Oh, okay then…”

A few seconds pass before Wooly breaks the silence. “I guess I’ll be making breakfast today… oh boy.”

Wooly hops off of his chair and walks towards the camera, but stops for a moment. “Wait a minute… YOU can help me make breakfast today!” He points to the camera as Riley turns around to find one of those toy kitchen sets with plastic food. Already familiar with random things appearing out of nowhere by now, they turn back to the TV.

“I think it’s best to make toast or bacon. I won’t be eating a lot, so it’ll mostly be for Amanda. With that said, would you like to help me make bacon or toast?” Wooly pulls out a plate of raw bacon and a loaf of bread from behind him.

“Bacon sounds good.” Riley says, as Wooly places the toast back in the fridge.

“Aw man, I can’t find anything to cook the bacon with. Do you have anything over there?”

Riley turns around to find different items all over the Kid’s Corner. “Just like before” they thought. After walking around the area, they suddenly get an idea. “What if I get the wrong items for him?” They wonder, since they haven’t seen much of Wooly getting irritated.

“Are you done yet? I’m starving here!” Wooly scolds from the TV.

Riley quickly grabs a torch from in front of the TV and places it on top of the TV to give it to him.

“I can’t cook bacon with THAT. Can you cooperate with me for just 5 minutes?” Wooly says, already losing his patience.

“Alright, alright.” Riley responds, irritated by his nagging. However, still interested in getting him angry, they pick up a lighter and place it on top of the TV again.

“Are you KIDDING ME?? What will it take for you to not mess with us?! Do you LIKE seeing us mad or something?!” Wooly yells, fed up with Riley’s shit.

The screen fills up with red static, the noise louder than ever. Riley can hear thumping from the vents above them, already regretting their decision.

The static cuts in and out, as Wooly holds his head, his fingers deep in his wool, breathing heavily. “No…no…” he whimpers, as the static finally stops and he raises his head to the camera.

“Please, just get the pan already.” Wooly demands, his voice tired and irritated. Fearing their life, Riley quickly grabs the pan that’s already in front of them in a split second and gives it to the TV.

“Finally.” Wooly mumbles. “Now, what should I use to cook the bacon- the refrigerator, the sink, or the stove?”

Riley taps on the stove.

“Good job! Time to FINALLY make some bacon. First, put the stove to high and put some oil on it once it’s hot enough.” Wooly grabs the oil bottle next to him. “Don’t do this at home, kids!” He whispers as he drizzles oil onto the pan.

Riley turns around to find a toy pan and plastic bacon on the kitchen set. They walk over to it and place the bacon on the pan and turn the knob on the toy stove to a high heat. A sizzling noise can be heard from a speaker.

Riley walks back to the TV as it glitches to the bacon now being on the stove near Wooly.

“Oooohh, it smells so good! I love the smell of bacon in the-“ Wooly stops as he jumps at the sight of the opossum on top of the fridge, observing the bacon. “Why are YOU here?! What on earth do you want?!” He quickly turns to the camera with an angry look on his face. “Get this guy out of here!”

Riley taps on the TV to make an attempt at making the opossum leave. The TV then glitches, with the opossum giving them a dirty face, hopping off of the fridge and out of the kitchen.

“My god… I’m WAY too tired for all this…” Wooly complains, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. He then turns around to check on the bacon, only to find that it’s now burnt with tons of smoke rising from it.

“DANG IT!!”

He quickly turns off the stove as Amanda enters the kitchen again.

Riley turns around to find the plastic bacon now melted on the pan. “How the hell..?” Confused by how it melted, they turn back to the TV.

“Hey, what’s that smell?” She asks as she quickly notices the giant smoke coming from the pan. “My god, Wooly, what did you do?!”

“I-I tried to make bacon for breakfast today and it all ended up getting burned!” Wooly whines, taking the pan to the trash bin and throwing the bacon out.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t make us breakfast.” Wooly says, hanging his head low.

“But… I’m so hungry…” Amanda whines.

“Me too.”

About a minute passes before Amanda speaks again.

“I hate this.”

Static fills the screen and the tape falls out of the VCR.

Author’s Note: MY FIRST AMANDA FANFIC LETS GOOOO!!! I’m super proud of this as it’s the first fanfic I’ve EVER written and now I wanna make more!! Let me know what you guys think and what you liked about this. Have a great day/night!!

[simandy]

I think my exams are AI generated. Can i die now

[megumi-fm]

.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[wolpatinga]

[newtafterdark]

Is "Zug" really German for "train"? Because the orcs in World of Warcraft, when they respond to an order, they go "zug zug" (I think it means "understood"), and I think there's a joke in here somewhere, like, a train passes by and the orcs see it and say "zug zug, lol" or something idek.

Pfffft- honestly that would be adorable!

And yeah, "Zug" is German for "train". And the plural is "Züge"! :>

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

“Yo.”

“Yes, Satoru?”

“You never had your first kiss, huh?”

Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 

You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 

Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.

He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”

“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 

“Why was that the thought that—“

“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”

You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”

He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”

Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.

“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”

Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“

A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 

“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“

“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 

“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”

“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”

“That’s…That’s not the point—“

“You’re deflecting!”

“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”

That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”

You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.

Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.

You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.

An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…

…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.

“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“

“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”

Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 

The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.

“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”

Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”

“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 

You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“

“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.

Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.

Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.

It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.

Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.

Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 

It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.

“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”

“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”

Yet again, another deception.

Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ‘o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.

Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 

“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”

It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”

“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”

“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”

“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”

I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”

“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”

You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”

“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”

“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”

God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 

“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.

Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 

The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.

“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”

Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[prael]

The Hardest Question Ever ASSked

Le Sserafim Chaewon, Kazuha and Yunjin x male reader smut

Masterlist word count: 5,851 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"So, which one of these two do you think has the best ass?"

Yunjin has this penchant for asking the most inappropriate questions at the most random of times. The conversation was in a whole different place; Chaewon was explaining why the second Harry Potter film is by far the best one when suddenly...

"Oh my god," Kazuha immediately covers her eyes, sinking her head into her hands.

"What?" Yunjin blinks with innocence.

Chaewon can only groan in response. She sometimes wonders what goes on inside the minds of her group members, especially after that time Yunjin casually asked to compare their favourite toys (and now she is struggling to get the mental image of Yunjin slipping in a butt plug each morning out of her head. Apparently she has a whole range of sizes) but still, it feels like their constant effort to test how far they can go with each other has no end in sight.

"We all have pretty nice butts," Chaewon adds, the need to fill the awkward silence quickly becoming dire.

"Boring answer," Yunjin turns up her nose and pouts. Then her eyes fall on you. "Come on, you spend more than enough time staring, which is it?" she teases.

And look, you have thoughts, of course you do, but you're too coy to spill them out into the open for these three to scrutinize. So you joke, "We all know it's me." Only Kazuha laughs—that girl laughs at your every word.

Yunjin narrows her eyes, her attention like a hungry lion's before its prey. She asks in a challenging tone, "Why are you avoiding the question?"

You have learned very quickly that a game you can never win is against Yunjin, that woman is relentless with her prodding, so you change strategies. "What does it matter who has the nicest ass? Asses are so subjective."

"Stop being so political."

Chaewon senses blood in the water and joins in on pushing you for an answer, "Okay, so, subjectively, which one do you like the most?"

You slump back into your chair as the three girls sit forward expectantly. Yunjin is directly across from you, wrapping her lips around the straw for her coffee as she stares through you, practically daring you to bullshit her with a non-answer. Chaewon is wide-eyed on your right, and Kazuha still has her hand nervously over her mouth.

You have an answer, you know which one you like the most. But you also know that as soon as you say it, the other might kill you.

So, you pick the one that will give the best reaction. See, Chaewon is competitive, right down to the bone. Meaning that when you answer, "Kazuha," she looks about ready to burst a blood vessel.

"What!" she spits, the other two girls bursting into laughter. "I'm the one with the best ass!"

Kazuha has this whole smug look going on, it's not one she uses often, but to tease Chaewon? You don't blame her.

"Oh yeah, you think that's funny? I'll show you whose ass is the best," Chaewon threatens.

"It must be all the squats," Yunjin chimes in.

"Shut up," Chaewon growls at her.

Kazuha leans back in her chair and shrugs, "No need to be jealous. Yours is great too, Chaewon. You work really hard, and it shows."

"Don't try to suck up now, Kazuha."

You watch the whole exchange in silence. This is what happens almost every time Yunjin calls you over to have lunch, and it is always an entertaining time.

"Alright, so what about thighs? Which ones are the best?" Yunjin continues.

"Kazuha," you answer, and Kazuha is practically glowing, "I mean, have you seen how toned her thighs are?"

You turn to Chaewon, a smirk on your face so evil, "Sorry, Chae."

"Alright! That's it!" Chaewon shouts, jumping up from her chair, her eyes burning with determination. Her hands are at the waist of her jeans, popping open the button. "If you won't admit mine are the best, I'll have to prove it to you."

Yunjin sighs, her hand on her chin, and she shakes her head. "Here we go again."

You can feel yourself blush a bit, the way you always do when this happens, even though the four of you have had these lunches dozens of times, and Chaewon has always tried to show off her body at some point. She wiggles her jeans off her hips, sliding them down to reveal her black, lacy thong.

"Well?" she poses, turning to the side to show off her ass, "What about now?"

You are certain the three of you are all thinking the same thing—her body is unbelievable—but nobody is going to stroke her ego like that.

"Oh yeah, definitely Kazuha's," you shrug, trying not to let your gaze linger.

"What?!"

It draws a loud laugh from Yunjin, who's hitting the palm of her hand against her thigh as she wheezes. Kazuha, who is usually the shy one of the bunch, can't help but join in on the laughter.

"Fuck you," Chaewon snaps at you, "And fuck you too!" She turns on her heel and points at Kazuha.

Kazuha is still laughing, and she has her head turned away from Chaewon, but you can see her smile grow wider. She's teasing, "Oh come on, Chaewon, it's okay. You look cute."

"I'll show you cute," Chaewon growls, her hand coming down hard on the table. It makes the cutlery rattle, and the three of you glance between yourselves before a shared giggle bubbles up again.

You look up at Chaewon, who has a scowl on her face. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her jaw is tense. She has one hand on her hip, her fingers digging into her skin, and the other is gripping the table so hard that her knuckles have gone white. Her body is stiff, the only movement being the rise and fall of her chest. Her face is flushed, either with embarrassment or frustration or both, and her lips are parted, letting her breaths pass through.

Her skin is smooth and soft, and when she moves, you can see the muscles ripple under it. She's so lean, so slender, but there's an undeniable strength behind her.

"What, got something to say?" Chaewon bites, noticing your stare.

"Uh," you fumble, your eyes flitting down her body before shooting up to her face again. "Just, um," you clear your throat, trying to shake yourself out of this trance, "Are you gonna leave your jeans off?"

"Until you realise how wrong you are, yes."

"Okay," you chuckle, then return to sipping on your drink.

"So, are we going to go through the rest of the list? Boobs? Which one's the best?" Yunjin can barely speak for her stifled laughter.

Chaewon huffs, then folds her arms across her chest. She pushes her tits together, the low-cut t-shirt working wonders to showcase her cleavage. "Mine," she states proudly.

"Kazuha."

"I can't with you two," Chaewon whines. "What the fuck?"

"You can't win against me," Kazuha says simply.

Chaewon's glare switches between the three of you. She looks like a wild animal ready to pounce. A dangerous, sexy, wild animal.

"You're all fucking useless," she mutters under her breath, turning on her heel. "I'll be right back."

You watch as she stomps off in her underwear and boots, leaving the three of you alone.

"That was fun," Yunjin smirks, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. She looks at you and says, "You've got a mean streak. I love it."

"I just like riling her up," you smirk.

"I noticed."

Kazuha giggles, then takes another sip from her cup. You can't help but watch her. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, and even without makeup, she is beautiful. There is a softness to her, an air of innocence, that you can't quite place.

"What are you looking at?" Kazuha asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," you shrug.

"I see the way you look at her," Yunjin says with a wink. "Got you thinking about something, huh?"

"Yeah," you say, not knowing how else to respond.

"I bet it's filthy," Yunjin continues. "How long has it been since you two hooked up, again?"

"Too long," Kazuha answers.

"Oh yeah," Yunjin smiles. "Guess I've been a little greedy recently."

"Just a little," Kazuha giggles, her cheeks dusted with red.

"Stop being so shy and ask him then," Yunjin nods in your direction.

"I'm back!" Chaewon announces, turning heads.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Yunjin asks.

It's nothing but skimpy lingerie. It's black and lacy, hugging her curves perfectly, and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her thong cuts deep between her ass cheeks, and the bra pushes her tits up, not that much is needed. The fabric is sheer, and you can see the dark peaks of her nipples through it.

She's leaning on the doorway as she speaks, "I wasn't going to half-ass it, was I?" Oh, Chaewon, even as you stand there, looking like a whole meal, you still can't resist a good pun. "So," she continues, sauntering over and leaning down, placing her hands on the table and getting in your face. "Have you come to your senses yet?"

You glance away, to look across the table at Yunjin, who's got her eyes fixed on Chaewon's ass and is telling her, "Yeah, no doubt I'm definitely kinda gay. Your butt looks amazing."

"Need more convincing?" Chaewon is looking down her nose at you, a devilish grin spreading across her face.

"More convincing," you repeat.

Chaewon steps between you and the table, pushing the arms of your chair and struggling to move it back.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Convincing." Chaewon turns to the table, puts her chest flat against it and arches her back, giving you the most brazen display. "Is it working?"

"It's..."

"Working," Yunjin finishes for you as she stands up to admire the view.

You take a moment to appreciate her, the way she's bent over the table, the way her ass looks so round and perfect. The way her thighs are toned and muscular, and the way they press together, gives her just a little more shape. You want to touch her, to reach out and run your hands along her smooth skin.

"I'd let her sit on my face," Yunjin whispers as if she could read your mind.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Kazuha adds.

"Would you two shut up? I'm trying to get my point across."

"Don't let us stop you."

Chaewon lets out an irritated sigh, then gets up and sits herself down in your lap. Her hips roll forward, and you can feel her warmth. You can't help yourself, you slip a hand around her waist and rest it on her stomach.

"Do you like this?" Chaewon asks, her voice low and seductive. She leans back, letting her head rest against your shoulder, her breath hot on your ear. "How about this?" She shifts her hips, grinding her ass against your crotch. You bite back a moan, your fingers digging into her flesh.

"You know," Yunjin says, watching as Chaewon continues to rub her ass against you, "We could have a lot more fun with this."

"What do you mean?" Kazuha asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Well," Yunjin's eyes flick over to meet yours. "If you're not gonna fight for your spot, our friend here might change his mind. How about a competition?"

"Competition?" Chaewon repeats.

"I'm talking a showdown," Yunjin explains, a wide grin on her face. Chaewon is staring blankly at her, and Yunjin rolls her eyes. "Ass vs ass. Who's got the better booty?"

"I'm in," Chaewon immediately agrees.

"What?" Kazuha squeaks.

"Oh, come on. You're not going to back down, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Kazuha states, standing up.

"You don't have to do this," you tell them.

"Shut up," Chaewon shoots back, a smirk on her face.

"Let's settle this once and for all," Yunjin declares. She pulls the table away, leaving you in the middle of the dining room with Chaewon on your knee. She pulls Kazuha to her feet and stands in front of her. Their eyes are locked on each other, both looking nervous. You can't take your eyes off them, especially when Yunjin slides her hands down Kazuha's abs. "First, let's catch you up, get you out of these clothes.

Yunjin hooks her fingers into the waistband of Kazuha's jeans and starts to pull them down, revealing the soft, creamy skin of her thighs. Kazuha lifts her feet out of her shoes and pants, leaving her standing in a pair of white panties.

"Damn, girl, you look good," Yunjin purrs, running her hands along Kazuha's thighs, squeezing the soft flesh.

Meanwhile, Chaewon turns her attention to you, first by pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside, then moving on to undoing the buttons on your pants. You're already achingly hard, from having her ass grinding against you, her hands on you, and her scent filling your nostrils. She stands up and steps back, allowing you to stand and drop your pants, then step out of them, leaving you only in your boxers.

"Looks like someone is ready," she teases, looking at the bulge.

You blush, embarrassed, but you can't help the way your cock twitches at her words.

"Alright," Yunjin calls.

The two girls are standing side by side now. Yunjin has sat you down and is standing behind you, her hands on your shoulders, her breath hot on the back of your neck. She's looking between the two girls, taking in their bodies, her eyes filled with lust. Kazuha is biting her lip, her hands clasped together in front of her, her body stiff.

"First, let's see who can move their ass better. Show off what you've got," Yunjin commands.

Chaewon is the first to act, bending over and shaking her hips. Her ass is swaying from side to side, her hips moving in circles, and her ass jiggling with every motion. Her back is arched, her legs straight, and her thighs pressed together, giving her ass the perfect shape.

"Nice," Yunjin whistles.

Kazuha takes a deep breath. She turns to show you her ass, putting her arms above her head and swaying her hips. She doesn't have the same confidence as Chaewon, but her ass still looks great.

"Fuck yeah," Yunjin says, her hand trailing down your chest and stomach.

"You think that's good?" Chaewon huffs. "Watch this."

She backs up towards you, stopping when her ass is almost touching your crotch, and leans back, arching her back. Her ass is pushed out, the curves and lines of her body on display. She places her hands on her ass cheeks and then starts to squeeze and knead her flesh, moaning softly as she does so.

"Fuck, that's hot," Yunjin breathes.

"Don't stop," you gasp.

Kazuha has renewed fight, stepping and dropping her ass against your lap. It's all in the hips, the way she moves, and how her body rolls. It's different from Chaewon, there's a grace to it and a fluidity. She turns, looking back at you, her eyes full of fire, her lips curled into a sly smile. You know that look. It's like a switch is flicked inside her.

"Fuck," you groan, reaching out to grab her, to pull her closer.

Kazuha leans forward, her back arched, and you draw her thick ass towards your cock. Soon enough, Chaewon follows, and you become the filling of an ass sandwich.

"Oh fuck, that looks good," Yunjin says, her hand sliding beneath your waistband and grabbing your cock. She starts to stroke it, slow and steady, teasing the tip with her thumb. But, as their assets draw closer, Yunjin is forced to relinquish, the girls taking hold of your cock between their asses, and rubbing their cheeks against you.

"Ahh, fuck, that's so fucking hot," you moan.

"Yeah, baby, you like that?" Yunjin purrs in your ear.

"God yes," you breathe, your head falling back against her chest.

Chaewon laughs, a smug sound, "He's definitely loving mine."

"In your dreams," Kazuha hisses.

"What was that?"

"I said," Kazuha pushes her ass, to slide your length between her cheeks, rubbing along the fabric of her thong, "He likes my ass more."

"I don't think so," Chaewon shoots back, fighting for position. The girls are ass to ass, cheeks squishing against each other. Your cock is caught between them, and they both start to rock their hips, the friction making you hiss.

"You're both driving me crazy," you moan.

"Yeah?" Chaewon smirks.

"How about this," Kazuha adds, her hips moving faster, and her ass squeezing tighter. It's all matched and challenged by Chaewon, who's moving her hips, and rocking her ass, and doing everything she can to keep up.

This whole thing is fucking ludicrous, don't get it twisted. This is the most insane thing you have ever seen, or done. Two gorgeous women, two insanely sexy asses, both fighting for a chance to prove that theirs is the best. And you're right there, between them, your cock assaulted by the most amazing sensation.

"How are we going to settle this?" Chaewon growls, her ass grinding hard against your cock.

"I'm not stopping until he cums," Kazuha shoots back, her ass moving even faster.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs.

"Wait, wait, stop," you gasp, to no avail. The girls just keep on grinding, keep on rocking, keep on fighting.

"Shh," Yunjin purrs, her hands roaming your chest, and her lips ghosting across the back of your neck. "Let them have their fun."

You moan, your body tense, your cock throbbing between their asses. The girls are panting, their breath heavy, and their bodies slick with sweat. Their skin is hot, their bodies flushed, and their hearts pounding.

"He's getting close," Chaewon smirks, "I can feel it."

"For me," Kazuha insists.

"I'm doing all the work," Chaewon snaps back, her hips rolling faster, and her ass pressing harder.

"Stop, fuck," you hiss, feeling your cock throb, feeling that familiar sensation rising in the pit of your stomach.

"Tell me it's for me. Cum for me, baby."

"No, for me. He's cumming for me," Kazuha shoots back.

And then, it hits. It's an explosion, your body jerking, your muscles spasming. Your head is thrown back, a groan ripped from your throat, and your hips bucking wildly.

"That's it," Chaewon smirks, looking over her shoulder. "I did it. He's cumming because of me."

"No, me," Kazuha pouts, turning her head.

You spill over them, thick, hot cum spraying all over their asses and backs, leaving sticky ropes of white across their smooth, flawless skin.

"F-fuck," you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," Yunjin murmurs, "That was... fuck.

"It's mine," Chaewon says, her tone cocky and arrogant.

"No, it's mine," Kazuha growls.

The two of them continue their argument, but you can barely hear them. Your body is still recovering, your mind reeling, and your heart racing. What a fucking rush.

"Who's got the best ass? Well," Yunjin chuckles, "It's a tie if you ask me."

"A tie?" Chaewon repeats.

"Yeah, a tie."

"Well, I'm not calling it a tie," Kazuha says.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs, standing upright and glaring at the other woman.

"You're both pretty great," Yunjin states, her hand on your shoulder.

"Kazuha is great, me? I'm perfect."

"Okay," Yunjin sighs. "There's still something he needs to test. You can't decide on the best ass without fucking them both."

"What?" Chaewon and Kazuha gasp at the same time.

"You get five minutes each, then swap. First to make him cum is the winner."

"Deal," Chaewon and Kazuha say simultaneously, their gazes burning into each other.

"Well then," Yunjin says, standing up. "Over the table girls."

You're still fucking out of it. Slumped in the chair while Yunjin guides them over the table, bent at the waist and presenting their asses to you. The girls are draped in your cum, and Yunjin has the task of plucking off their underwear, leaving them bare and naked. Then she comes and pulls you to your feet, positioning you behind Chaewon.

"Cum in whichever feels the best, okay? Wait here a minute." Yunjin runs off to the bedroom, giving Chaewon a chance to bargain with you.

"Come on, you know I've got the better ass. And you know what it can do for you. Just think of all the other times you've fucked my ass. Don't tell me you want Kazuha's ass instead?"

"Uh," you mumble.

"Oh come on," she wiggles her ass, "Look at this."

"Sorry," Yunjin says, reappearing with a bottle in her hand. "Gotta do this right." Yunjin takes a blob of lube in her hand and rubs it onto your cock. It's cold, and it makes you shudder. Then she takes some and rubs it onto Chaewon's ass.

"Fuck," she squeaks, her body trembling.

"Ready?" Yunjin asks.

"Y-yeah."

"Five minutes, go!"

Yunjin pushes you by the hips toward Chaewon, not that you need any encouragement to slip your length between her cheeks.

"That's it, fuck me. Come on, baby. Let's see whose ass feels better."

It's slow to begin, pushing your way into her little asshole. She's still so tight, and even with the added slick, it takes a bit of effort. But she's warm and snug around your cock, and her ass is perfect.

"Fuck, I forgot how big you were," she moans, her voice strained.

"She can't even take it," mocks Kazuha.

"Shut up, I can," Chaewon bites back. "Go on, deeper."

Yunjin has her hand on your hip, guiding you deeper and deeper until you bottom out. Her ass is pressed right against your hips, and she's whimpering. You give her a few moments to adjust before starting to move, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. You're stretching her out, forcing her to accommodate your length, and her hole is clenching around you.

"Fuck, I love the feeling of your cock," she gasps.

"We all do," Kazuha says flatly.

"Not as much as I do," Chaewon pants.

"Come on, you can fuck her faster," Yunjin whispers in your ear.

So you pick up the pace, your hips moving, and your cock thrusting deep into her. She's moaning and writhing beneath you, her ass shaking with every impact, her body trembling. You can't stop yourself, you're pounding her hard, slamming your cock deep inside her. The cum on her cheeks is smeared, making the sight even more filthy.

"Shit," she groans, her ass bouncing back against your hips.

You're lost in her, fucking her hard and fast, making her take every inch of you. You're grunting, your balls slapping against her skin, and your cock stretching her hole. You're losing control, the sounds of your fucking filling the room.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," she moans.

"You're such a slut," Kazuha hisses.

"Oh fuck," Chaewon cries, her ass clenching around your cock, her body convulsing, and her pussy dripping. "Oh my god, fuck," she screams, her whole body tensing, and her eyes rolling back.

"Holy shit," you gasp, your cock throbbing and twitching.

"Alright, time's up," Yunjin says, grabbing you and pulling you away from her.

"What the fuck, no, don't stop," Chaewon pleads.

"Swap," Yunjin demands, shoving you towards Kazuha.

You stumble forward, your cock aching and throbbing. You're still sensitive, and the sudden change has your head spinning. Yunjin covers you again with more lube and slaps your ass to let you know to begin.

Kazuha's chest is flat on the table, her cheek pressed against the wood, and her hands gripping the edge. She turns to look at you, her eyes full of silent desire. There's an arch to her back, and her ass is perfectly presented, just waiting for you to enter her.

"Take her," Yunjin whispers and her hand pushes down on your hip.

You step forward, the tip of your cock pressing against her asshole. You can see her muscles tensing, and she lets out a soft moan as you push into her. She's even tighter than Chaewon, her body squeezing and gripping your cock. She's not nearly as experienced, her reactions are more innocent.

"Oh," she gasps, her body shivering, "That's... that's really good."

You grab her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and you push deeper, feeling her asshole stretch and open up for you. She lets out a sharp cry, and you pause, giving her a moment to relax.

"Keep going," she pleads, her voice thick with lust.

You start to move, sliding out of her and then pushing back in. She's hot and tight around you, and her muscles are contracting, squeezing and clenching, pulling you deeper into her.

"Oh my god, it's so good," she moans.

Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open, and her body is quivering. You keep going, thrusting harder and deeper, until you're buried in her ass. She lets out a long, low moan, and you can feel her trembling.

"She can barely take it," Chaewon laughs.

"Don't listen to her," Kazuha pleads, looking over her shoulder at you. "Just keep going, please."

You groan a response and start to pound her harder. Sticky flesh slapping together, your hands holding her steady, and her cries filling the room. You're fucking her rough, and she's taking every inch of you. It feels incredible, and the pleasure builds, your cock throbbing and aching.

"Come on, cum for me," she whines.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," you gasp, your hips bucking. Just one slap of her ass and it's marked already, red and pink from the impact.

"You're close," she whimpers.

"Keep going," Yunjin encourages. "Two minutes or they both lose."

Your whole body is trembling, and your head is spinning. Your cock is so hard and aching, and your balls are tight. Your hips are bucking, and you're fucking her with abandon, her ass taking every inch.

"Come on," she begs.

You groan, and then you're there, your whole body shuddering, and your cock pulsing and throbbing, emptying your cum into her ass. As soon as Chaewon sees that look on your face, she knows she's lost. She whines a defeated sound and slumps against the table.

Kazuha is the one smiling though, and as she stands, you notice her knees are a bit weak. "I win," she announces, a little triumphant.

"You cheated," Chaewon pouts.

"How the hell did I cheat?"

"I don't know, you just did." Chaewon's got that little pouty expression stuck to her face, and she swears her revenge. "Next time, I'll beat you. You'll see."

"If you say so," Kazuha smiles, looking at the mess leaking from her ass. You're stumbling back and Yunjin is your support, keeping you steady.

Yunjin is in your ear, "You've still got another round in you, right?"

"I don't know," you pant.

"You, me and the shower. Think about it."

"Yeah," you manage, and then her hand is on your arm, leading you to the bathroom.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chaewon demands, her hands on her hips.

"Shower," Yunjin calls, dragging you along. "You girls caused this mess, you can clean up. Maybe even lick his cum off each other's asses."

"No, don't leave," Chaewon whines.

But, it's too late, the door is closing, and Yunjin is pushing you up against the wall. "You know," she whispers, her hands on your chest and her body pressed against yours, "I'm kinda turned on."

"Yeah?"

"Watching them fight over you was so hot."

"Yeah, it was," you admit.

"So," she presses her lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, and slipping her tongue into your mouth.

You return her passion, your hands running up her body, and down her back. She breaks the kiss, and looks up at you, a coy smile on her lips.

"Let's have a little fun," she murmurs, reaching behind her and turning on the shower. The water flows, steam fills the air, and Yunjin steps under the stream, letting it cascade over her naked body.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"What's the matter?" she teases, grabbing the bottle of soap and squirting it onto her chest. She lathers up her chest, spreading the foamy liquid over her smooth skin, her nipples hardening as the suds run down her body.

"You're gorgeous," you say, stepping towards her.

She grabs you by the hips, pulling you close, her hands roaming your body. Her skin is slick with soap, her touch gentle and teasing. She's looking up at you, her eyes filled with desire.

"Are you ready?" she whispers, her voice husky.

"Always," you grin, cupping her breasts and kneading them in your hands.

"Fuck," she sighs, leaning into you, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed.

You kiss her, tasting her lips, your tongue sliding against hers. She moans, her hands trailing down your back, and her nails digging into your skin.

"Mmm, so good," she murmurs, breaking the kiss and looking up at you. "All this anal stuff has got me thinking, maybe it's time we tried something new."

"Really?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think it was ever really your thing? You always said a butt plug was enough."

"I've been practising," she winks.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Maybe it's best if I show you."

"Oh," you grin.

"So," she purrs, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing her body against yours. "You want to see what I can do?"

"Fuck yes," you breathe, a rush of excitement running through your body.

She smiles, biting her lip and pulling away from you. She turns her back to you, facing the wall, and places her hands flat on the tile. She arches her back, and you watch as she spreads her legs and bends further and further over. Her ass is sticking out, her perfect, plump cheeks inviting you in.

You can't help yourself. You kneel behind her, grab her cheeks and spread them wide. She lets out a soft moan, and you press your face into her ass, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Fuck," you groan, kissing her puckered hole.

"Mmm," she moans, pushing her ass back into your face.

"That feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat.

You tease her with your tongue, licking her asshole, and swirling the tip around the rim. She shivers, and you push a finger into her, probing her, exploring her. She's so tight, and the sounds she's making are driving you wild.

"Please," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please fuck me."

"Are you sure?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"Yes," she says, looking back at you. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I'm finally ready."

"You don't have to, we can just have a regular fuck."

"No," she insists, her eyes blazing. "I want to try it, and I want you to be the one to do it."

"Fuck," you growl, pulling your finger out of her ass and standing up. You press the tip of your cock against her, and she whimpers. A shiver runs through her, and her hands ball into fists. There's this tension in the air, and her breathing is shallow and fast. Utterly shameless, she reaches back and pulls her asscheeks apart, opening herself up for you.

"Come on," she whimpers. "Do it. Put it in."

You press against her, your cock throbbing, and her asshole quivering. You push, and she gasps, her muscles tightening, her body tensing. But she doesn't pull away. You push again, harder, and her asshole starts to give way, stretching and opening for you. She lets out a strangled cry, her ass clenching around your cock, as the first few inches slip into her. You can go no further. No amount of practice could prepare her for this.

"You're so tight," you groan.

"It hurts," she whines, her body trembling.

"Just relax, okay?"

"I can't," she moans, her muscles straining.

"Just breathe," you say, stroking her back and ass.

She takes a deep breath, and then another, and then a third. You can feel her body relaxing, her muscles loosening, her asshole stretching.

"That's it," you encourage, pushing deeper into her. "How's that? Better?"

"Yes," she whispers, her eyes rolling back in her head.

You slowly start to move, thrusting in and out of her ass. She's so tight, her body gripping your cock like a clenched fist. Her moans fill the room, echoing off the tiles.

"Fuck," she hisses, her head hanging low, her shoulders hunched. Yunjin has always been the hold-out. Her anal virginity has eluded you, but not any more. Finally, all the best asses in K-pop are willing to take you. There's nothing better.

"Fuck," she groans, her nails scraping against the tiles. "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she pants.

You grab her hips and start fucking her harder, it's still tough to get more than half of your length inside her, but what she's taking is driving her crazy.

You hook a hand underneath her, past her toned stomach to play with her pussy. She's soaked, dripping with lust, her clit hard and swollen. You tease her, stroking and rubbing her, and she cries out, her whole body tensing.

"You're gonna make me cum," she gasps, her hips bucking against your hand.

"Not until I say so," you growl. She whimpers, her ass tightening around your cock, her legs trembling. You lean forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Who am I?" you snarl, fucking her ass harder.

"Ah," she whines, her voice strained. "You're...you're my daddy."

"That's right," you growl, your cock throbbing. "Now cum for me."

You rub her clit, and she cums, her whole body convulsing, and her pussy gushing. It's a powerful orgasm, and she's shaking and crying out, her ass squeezing your cock like crazy. She grows weak, barely able to stand and take it. You pull out, let her fall to her knees, and then take hold of her hair to face you.

She's looking up at you with this expression like she's drunk, or high. A good ass fucking and she is a mess. A happy mess. One that's perfect to be coated in your load.

You stroke yourself, staring down at her, and her eyes widen, her lips parted and waiting. You grunt a shudder runs through you, and your cock erupts. Thick ropes of cum splatter across her face, covering her cheeks, her lips, and her nose. She's whimpering, stroking her tits and moaning out words of pure filth for you. "So much cum for your favourite girl. We both know those two don't stand a chance against me."

She's a mess. She's a hot, filthy mess. You step back, admiring her, a smug satisfaction filling your mind while she licks your cum from around her mouth. "Don't get complacent," you tease.

"Never."

[zyafics]

STAY THE NIGHT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing — Rafe x FWB!Female Reader

Summary — When Rafe sees you as just a fuck buddy, you embody the role and remind him what that truly means.

Word Count — 5.5K

Content — 18+, Smut, Jealousy (From Rafe), Dominance Play, Oral Receiving (F + M), Fingering, P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Praise Kink, Fluff At The End

Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous.

You two aren't a couple. You are nothing more than casual fuck buddies that are conveniently located within proximity of one another when one of you need to blow off some steam or get off. The feeling is completely mutual.

However, you've been exclusive.

It's unspoken, of course. No one is willing to admit that they don't want the other to be sleeping with other people and you settled on that ambiguity.

You thought it could mean something more.

You thought wrong.

The other day, after fooling around, you laid in his bed, wearing nothing, and asked if you could stay the night. As part of your undefined relationship, you don't do sleepovers. Rafe doesn't do sleepovers. However, he was the one who was calling you after midnight. He was the one who wanted you to sneak out of your house, where your parents placed a curfew. If you go home now, you would be caught dead in the act and get into trouble. It would be easier to save yourself and stay over.

"No." Rafe declared, not letting the suggestion linger for more than a second. You lifted yourself from the bed by propping your elbows against his mattress, staring at the man who's searching for his throwaway clothes on the floor and redressed himself. "We don't do sleepovers. I don't want to be caught with a Pogue."

"Rafe." You said with a hint of annoyance. He saw you naked, but he was afraid of being seen with you in public? "It's fucking four in the morning. My parents are going to see me."

He scoffed. "Not my problem."

"So what? You don't care if I get in trouble?"

He shrugged, pulling his shirt over his chest. "You're just a fuck."

You said nothing. You just stared at him. He quickly gets dressed and finds your clothes around his floor, throwing them on the bed for you to take. With a huff, you pull yourself from the comforts and put them on.

"I'll call you." He said as you walked out of his bedroom, but you didn't answer him. All you did was flip him off and make your way out.

The next morning, you got in trouble with your parents regarding your absence. But, you said nothing, taking the lecture they gave you and headed to your room.

And you thought, if he sees me as a quick fuck, fine. I'll be just that.

The next Kook party, you were there. You always attended Kook parties, despite being a Pogue, simply because the alcohol is all free and it tasted better. No more cheap beer on The Boneyard, but you had to admit—the music was better.

Kooks can't play for shit.

This party happened to be on Tanneyhill, the mansion where Rafe lived. You haven't seen him since the last time you hooked up, and it's been the longest you've gone without seeing each other. Sure, he called you but you let it go to voicemails and all his texts were left on read. You know, without a doubt, Rafe would be looking for you and attempting to pull you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out.

But you didn't care.

(Maybe just a little).

After dancing for a while, grinding against random strangers and making conversations with some friends of yours, you settled into a seat next to a Kook. He introduced himself as Ethan, and you chat with him as you drink from your cup, making small talk about what you're doing this summer.

He seemed interested enough. His eyes shamelessly glance down at your top, which practically shows off your tits, and floats back to your lips a couple of times. You knew if you wanted to, he would've follow you to a bedroom and fuck you.

But you didn't.

You laughed at his jokes. You told some of your own.

All while having an nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You know exactly who.

And Rafe Cameron is fuming.

He noticed you when you first walked in, in a top that shows off too much and a skirt that covers practically nothing. You walked into Tanneyhill as if you owned the place, despite being a Pogue, and that's one of the things that irritates him about you.

But it also made him attracted to you.

Your confidence. Your demeanor. You never backed down when Rafe tries to put you in your place and you never let him gain control without a fight. He likes that you make him work for it; there's a thrill in the chase. Because he knows, at the end of the day, it's his bed that you ended up in. It's his cock that you're sucking.

But, at this moment, he isn't so sure. Instead of being in his arms, talking to him, you were talking to some random fucking guy who attended Kook Academy and is making you laugh.

You didn't even bother to tell him you were coming.

Rafe thought he could hold it in until he got you alone.

But that was before the guy put his hand on your upper thigh and you let him.

It takes mere seconds for Rafe to cross the yard, and when he comes behind you, it surprises you at how silent he was. "Get your hands off my fucking girl," he snapped at Ethan and before Ethan got the chance to back off, Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you off the chair, taking you inside of Tanneyhill.

You let him drag you for a few moments. The booze in your system is making your reaction sluggish, but when the realization dawns on you, you finally pull away when you reach in front of his bedroom, hidden in a dark hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He scoffs at your words. "What am I doing?" He repeats. You nod. He jabs an accusing finger in your direction. "What the fuck are you doing?"

You lift the cup to your lips. "I'm drinking."

His eyes are livid. "With that guy?" He gestures outside where Ethan is, jealousy pouring from his words and he sounds like he's using every inch of restraint he has to hold everything together. You shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but you are. When you don't answer him, feigning a bored expression, Rafe gets more frustrated. He doesn't like that you aren't reacting. He doesn't like it at all. "What's your fucking problem?"

You lift your shoulders in a casual shrug, pressing the red solo cup against your lips and says, "thought I was just another fuck."

He knows you were throwing his words back at him. He knows that this is some fucking test that you're doing to drive him bad. He also knows it's working, so much so that he knocks the cup out of your hands, causing the content to spill all over his marble floor. "Fuck you."

You scoff, unfazed by his aggression. "You already did." You say, and while Rafe is silently raging underneath, you decide to take it a step further. Closing in the distance until you're right in front of his face, you smirk, "and you fucking loved it."

Rafe is breathing hard, his blue eyes searching your face, his chest raising and falling in rapid beats as frustration rolls off of him, all while you tip your head to the side, raising your brow, challenging him to respond.

He does.

By slamming his lips against yours.

One of his hands catches the back of your neck as he presses a bruising and punishing kiss against your lips, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. Instinctively, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"You're mine." He breathes against your lips when you break apart, trailing kisses down the column of your neck as you tip your head back to give him more access, feeling his mouth working against your skin. "And no fucking asshole from the Academy is going to take you away from me."

Wanting to tease him further, you say. "What if I leave?"

He answers you by sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to arch into him and let out an involuntary moan as his free hand descends down to your short skirt and roughly palms your ass. Rafe chuckles against your skin, satisfied by your body's reaction to him. "Then no one is going to make you feel like I do."

His hands move to pull down your top, causing your tits to spill out of the fabric. The cold air pricks at your exposed skin and Rafe takes a beat of a second to admire you before lifting his gaze to meet you in an easy, cocky grin.

"So ready for me," he teases, moving his hand up to play with your hardened nipples between his fingers. You let out a small sigh. "God, you're fucking gorgeous."

"Shut up," you say, not liking how his words are making your cheeks flush with heat and a flutter of butterflies to swarm your stomach. This is just a fuck, you remind yourself. He lifts his blue eyes to meet you for a brief second before descending his mouth down to cover one of your nipples.

You always like playing with yourself there. As his tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly graze against the bud, causing your moan to echo across the hallway and his hand immediately slaps over your mouth, silencing them.

Rafe's eyes lock with yours. "You don't want anyone to hear what a needy girl you are, do you?"

You clench your jaw underneath his hand, at his dominance, but when you don't answer fast enough, he asks again. "Do you?"

You shake your head and he pulls himself off of you, the cold invades the absence of his heat. But, Rafe doesn't leave you for long. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his bedroom. The moment the door slams close, his lips return on yours and his hands explore over your exposed body.

Your core clenches as Rafe slams you against the back of the door, kissing you hungrily as he lowers his hand to the cutoff of your skirt and pushes the flimsy material up to your hips before cupping your pussy.

"God, you're dripping," he says with a small laugh, looking up to you. "Are you this wet for me, baby?"

You are. Rafe Cameron has a way to make your entire body responsive to him, his touch, his kisses, his everything. But, you don't want to let him know that. You don't know how much you want it, how much you need it.

Instead of answering him, you say with a roughness to your voice, "if you don't fuck me, Cameron, I'll find someone else who will."

Humor leaves his face and his expression hardens. He cups your cunt hard, causing you to involuntary jolt forward into his hand and a small whimper to escape you. "This is mine. No other fucking man is going to touch this but me."

"Big words for someone who hasn't made me come."

His eyes darken and, with your taunting and teasing getting to him, he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a rough finger inside of your pussy, causing you to wince at the abrupt motion. "Can you handle it?"

You nod with closed eyes, feeling as he adds a second finger, thrusting in a steady but rough pace, his other hand fondling with your tits.

You lean back against the door with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from his rhythm. Rafe knows your body, he knows you're about to come, and as your moans get more erratic and you grind harder into his hand, he quickens his thrusts. Leaning into you, he says to your ear, "let it out, baby."

You do.

Your walls clench around his fingers tightly as you ride on your high, so much so that you hear his muttered fuck under his breath. When you're slowly coming down from your climax, Rafe removes his hand. The loss of his touch causes you to frown but before you get the chance to open your eyes and complain, he pushes the wet digits against the entrance of your lips. "Suck."

You want to argue back, about him telling you what to do, but you can't seem to help but listen. Your eyes open and find his face, watching you as you suck his fingers clean of your arousal. "Good girl."

When he withdraws his fingers, clarity dawns on you. He's wearing too much while you're practically exposed. You didn't like how uneven the playing field is, and with a gesture to his shirt and pants, you demand. "Take it off."

His smirk is smug. "Eager, aren't we?"

"If I have to be naked, so do you."

"You aren't naked." He gestures back to you and you look down at yourself. While your tits are showing and your panties are soak, he's right, you technically aren't naked. Not afraid of backing down from a challenge, you easily pull your tiny top over your shoulders and push your skirt and panties down to your ankles.

Stepping out of them, you look back to see Rafe admiring your naked body. You can see the outline of his erection straining against his pants, and for a moment, a self-consciousness creeps up on you and you blush. With a hard swallow, you point to him. "Your turn."

The corner of his lips quirks up at how demanding you are and he pulls his shirt over his body, revealing the defined and taunt muscles of his chest underneath. Your mouth waters. You watch as he goes for his belt—knowing you’re watching—that he teases it out slowly. He messes with the buckle, taking his sweet time, that you grow impatient. 

"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath, approaching him and pushing his hands out of the way, sinking to your knees as you unbuckle the belt with ease—practices from all the other times. When you pull it out of his pants, you stop, looking up to Rafe.

"Go on, princess." He gestures, a cocky grin at the sight of you on your knees for him. "Finish what you started."

You hate how much power he has over you this time, how he is telling you what to do, but because of how needy you are, how much you want him between your legs and his cock to be in you, you listen. You unzip and pull down his pants, revealing an impressed bulge underneath his briefs. With one easy tug, you freed his cock and it stood in front of you, hard and leaking with pre-cum.

On your knees, you look up to see Rafe watching you, waiting to see what you do. His eyes are hungry and his arousal is obvious. Tentatively, you wrap your hand around the thick cock, your fingers barely connecting together because of his girth.

And slowly, you rub up and down his shaft.

A hiss leaves the back of Rafe's throat and satisfaction pools in your core at the realization that you are making him feel this way, that you have this much control. "Faster." He commands, his voice thick with desire.

Instead of listening to his orders, you open your mouth and take his cock in your mouth, swallowing the salty taste as you swirl your tongue at his head. Added with the motion of your hand playing with his balls, and rubbing him up and down, Rafe can’t help but rock his hips against your face. 

“Fuck,” he swears, his hand finds your hair and pulls your closer to him, as your grip around him gets firmer and you hollow your cheeks, creating a stronger suction. Rafe groans under your touch, tugging the root of your strands, wanting you to do anything and everything to build him closer to his climax. “Fuck, baby, I’m close.” 

With that pride of information, you slow down, your fingers loosen their pace and you pop the cock out of your mouth. Rafe feels the instant loss of touch and he looks down at you, his expression hard and angry.

"What the fuck?"

"Say please."

He says your name in a command, but you don't budge.

Rafe's blue eyes are hard. He knows you do this. He knows you like to mess with him, take back control whenever you find yourself in a small position of power and remind him of his place. Irritation builds in his chest, this time worse than the others, but so does his delayed climax. He needs it more.

With a reluctant sigh, he says, "please."

You return your motion, moving in slow, torturous strokes as your hand moves up and down his slick length, creating enough pleasure for him to feel but not enough friction to ease into his climax. Your mouth has yet to return on his cock and without the added assistance, his jaw tense and his frustration and horniness builds. 

In a desperate plea, Rafe begs, "baby, please."

His voice didn't sound like his own and his words are so rough, so willing, that you can't help but alleviate him from his misery. You reconnect your lips on his tip and begin to rub his faster, firmer, sucking him harder. With the edge of delay, Rafe comes fast with a guttural groan, spilling in your mouth as you lap over the taste, swallowing all of it.

Rafe lowers himself and guides you back to your feet, pulling you towards the bed and pushing you flat against the mattress, laying on your back.

He lowers himself off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he steps in front of your exposed pussy, and looks up to see the self-satisfied smirk on your face at the little stunt you pulled back there. In a low voice, he says, "you're going to regret that."

A finger drags up your slit, in a slow motion, gathering your wetness on the digit but producing enough pressure that it makes you whine. You try to grind yourself against his hand but he lays his palm on the flat of your stomach, holding you in place. 

When his eyes connect with your needy gaze, he says, “my turn.” 

Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses your inner thighs in slow, agonizing touches. It produces an aching feel to your core as he gives careful attention to both of your thighs, slowly creeping up to your throbbing cunt, but not quite giving you a release. 

Rafe lingers on a particular sensitive spot near your pussy, sucking and kissing the placement until you're writhing in pleasure and frustration, desperate to feel his tongue in you.

"Rafe," you say with a throaty beg and he grins against your skin.

"I said you're going to regret it."

"Yeah, and if you take any longer, I'm going to go downstairs to find Ethan."

Rafe hates it when you mention other men, or even think of other men, especially when he’s fucking you, but it does the trick as he moves between you and his fingers spread your folds. “You are this wet for me, baby, not Ethan,” he reminds you, before lowering himself to your pussy, flattening his tongue against your center before moving up and down in slow strokes. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your sensitive clit and sucks on the nub, the sound of wetness fills the bedroom as the low volume of the music thumps from downstairs. He lets one finger enter your cunt, beginning at a slow pace. “Rafe, ohmygod.”

He moves faster, rougher, lapping out your taste as if he was dying of thirst. With his finger quickening and his tongue working a miracle on you, another orgasm builds. 

“I’m close,” you whisper and he nods. He moves with precision and god, Rafe Cameron is good at eating pussy. When his tongue enters into you and the pad of his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit, you can’t help but arch into his pleasure and come on his face. 

You fall against the mattress with a heavy breath, but Rafe doesn’t stop. He continues to suck and lap and rub, causing you to wrap your thighs tightly around his head. You’re already so exhausted, so sensitive, coming down from your high, but that does nothing to satiate the man between your legs—fingers and tongue buried inside of you, still hungry. 

Your thighs violently shake and your fingers rack through his hair, pulling, “ohmygod, ohmygod,” you moan as he works another orgasm from you, your stomach tightening and the pressure being so unbearable you feel as if you’re going to cave and explode. 

“Come for me, baby, I want another one.” He mumbles against your cunt, the low hum of his voice vibrates through your body in a pleasurable sensation. With a rougher pace and a harder suction around your clit, you come for a second time in a row. 

You’re an absolute wreck when he pulls away and, assessing the damage he caused, Rafe chuckles at the sight before him. You splay out on the mattress, breathing heavily with low lids and the prettiest pussy. He lowers himself, placing both hands on either side of your head to carry his weight, he plants a soft kiss on your lips. 

His eyes set on you, a gentle gaze, and whispers. “Can you take another, baby?” 

Though you are weak from all the orgasms you endured, you still nod, looping your arms around his neck as he descends closer to you, planting kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the edge of your jawline. You can feel his erection grazing at your entrance, waiting to enter, and the thought itself ignites another round of passion and need within you. 

Rafe pulls back just enough to line his cock against your wet folds. Before he enters, he looks up to you, waiting for a confirmation sign. When you nod, he slowly pushes the length into your aching core and you jerk forward. 

He goes in slow at first, allowing your walls to adjust to his size because, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it still takes a moment for your pussy to register that this is him. That this is his pussy. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

You, with what little strength you have left, push yourself up as he rocks against your hips, beginning his thrusts. You get closer to him, grabbing his shoulders, while he takes the opportunity to play with your tits. 

This new position allows him to enter deeper inside of you, hitting a new angle, causing you to let out a cry from the explosion of pleasure. In addition to the remnants of the orgasms you had a few moments prior, as Rafe pounds into your very sensitive core, you begin to feel as if you’re seeing stars. 

Rafe leans down, closer to your ear as he asks, "who's fucking you?"

You feel your stomach knot and tighten, knowing he’s getting you close. But, you also can feel his cock twitching inside your walls, alerting you that he’s also getting close. With this dynamic power, you turn your head to face Rafe, connecting your heavy-lid eyes with his. 

“Ethan.” 

Rafe stills. His eyes darken at your words, watching the way your lips curl with an innocent look and he decided he hates it. He hates this little power play you're doing to him, he hates how it's working. He knows that you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, but without the reassurance that you are his—fully, devotedly his—he doesn't know if you haven't fucked another guy before. If you haven't had Ethan's name on your lips.

His hand lowers between the two of you, lightly grazing against your sensitive clit. You jolt into his touch. "Did you fuck him?"

His voice is low, dangerously low, as you watch how serious he turned with the tease of another man's name. You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. "And if I did?"

He pinches your clit and your hips arch forward, but he uses his other hand to grab it still. Your core throbbing while he remains inside of you and does nothing. You realize, in this moment, that you might've gone too far. You feel full and have everything in your possession to make you reach your highest peak but you chose to delay it with a joke that wasn't even that funny.

Especially not now.

Rafe slowly rubs your clit with his fingers, painfully light, teasing and punishing you all in one. You gasp into his touch, but he doesn't let you move. His grip remains firm on your hips, holding you in place as you ache around his cock, as he can feel your walls clench around him, begging to be fucked.

But he needs to hear you say it.

"Rafe," you choke, and his eyes connect with yours. Your eyes are teary, your breathing is erratic, and you are trying desperately to produce some friction between your legs and give you some semblance of pleasure. "Rafe, move."

"No, princess," he says with a deadly calm, shaking his head. "You want to play mind games with me all night, fine. But tonight, I'm going to fucking hear you say my name." He repeats himself with aggression, his fingers skims across your sensitive nub. "Who. Is. Fucking. You?"

You grip his shoulders, your eyes meeting his, and your core aches painfully. You try to grind yourself against him, trying to produce some friction of your own, but he uses both hands to grab your hips, stilling you in place with a deadly grip you are sure is going to leave a mark.

He shakes his head, firm on getting the answer out of you.

With teary eyes, you beg. "Please, Rafe. Please."

He grins with that self-satisfying charm. He loves it when you finally break your dominance. He loves it more when he can break you.

His thrust begins at a slow rate, still on the edge of punishment, but at least you can feel some friction producing between your legs. You look down at his cock entering and leaving your cunt, the image gratifying, but Rafe roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look back up.

"Look at me." He commands, his voice shallow as the slow thrust is killing him, but he needed to teach you a lesson. "I want you to remember this when you're looking at anyone else. Talking to any other fucking guy. Remember how I make you feel."

You nod frantically. Desperate at this point to say anything to get Rafe to move faster, harder, providing you with your climax. He sees it in your eyes, how he finally got you, that it makes him smile. 

"God, look at you," he chuckles. "You want me to fuck you so bad."

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" He asks again, the proposition is too nice to tease out.

You nod, blinking through the tears. "Anything."

He grins at this exchange of power, when he holds all of it, that he finally relents and quickens his pace. You grip harder on his shoulders as Rafe thrusts into you, rocking his hips against yours.

You claw and moan against his skin, using it as an anchor for all the pain and pleasure ripping through you, and he takes it as a mark of honor. When he lowers one hand between the two of you, using the pad of his thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you see stars float in your vision. 

"I'm coming," you pant against his skin. "God, please, I'm coming."

Rafe's hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, and nods. "Come for me, baby."

When you feel your orgasm hit its all-time high, you slump in exhaustion against his shoulders, while he continues to move in and out of you. It takes a few seconds later before Rafe comes, feeling his hot cum leaking out of you.

He doesn’t remove his cock from your pussy and honestly, you don’t want him to. You want to stay like this for a moment, to catch your breath and come to the dawning realization that this is the best sex of your life. You didn’t want it to end. 

Rafe lays his chin on your small shoulder, pushing your wet hair to the side as he recovers. 

“Be my girl.” He whispers, so quiet, that you thought you imagined it. You weakly pull back, connecting your widened eyes with his. 

"What?"

"Be my girl," he repeats once more, his blue eyes vulnerable and tracing your features to see if there's any hint of rejection on the bay. "I can't fucking stand you with other guys. I don't even want you to say their names. I want you. All of you."

You hesitate. "Rafe..."

"You said you'll do anything." He reminds you.

"You said you don't want to be seen with a Pogue."

He growls. "Fuck what I said," he snaps with a shake of his head, raising his hand to wipe the leftover tears from your face. "I want you. I don’t care about anything else. Just say yes."

You look at him and soften your gaze. You have wanted this, you admit, you wanted him to confess to you that he wants you as much as you want him. But, for a moment, in this brief second, you’re afraid that if you agree you would submit to everything you’ve fought against. The control you tried so hard to retain. 

He sees it. He knows you’re having an internal battle. Using his hand, he cups the side of your face, the heat and comfort of his palm makes you instinctively lean into him. “Please.” He begs softly, giving you one last shred of power. 

With a small chuckle of your own, you finally nod. "Okay."

He grins, and without hesitation, presses another kiss against your lips. This time, it lacks the power and control you two have been fighting for all night but rather is sweet, sensitive and patient. He pushes you back against the mattress, using his arms to hold up his weight. 

When he pulls apart, both of you are out of breath and breathing heavily. He offers you a genuine smile, at how proud he is that you’re his, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub across your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

You blush, waiting to pull away from his touch but Rafe knows you. He grabs a hold of your face, holding you in place so you can’t tear your gaze from him. “I’m serious. Since you’re my girlfriend now, you have to get used to that or else people are going to assume I don’t compliment you enough.” 

You scoff. “You don’t. The only times you say nice things to me is when you’re in me.” 

“Yeah?” He challenges, cocking one of his brows. You nod. ���That’s going to change. Prepare for me to shower you with compliments every time I see you,” he says, as he lowers himself and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “Especially when I’m in you.” 

You roll your eyes, pushing him off as your eyes find the clock in the back of the wall. You didn’t realize how late it was. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. Rafe turns to you, his brows knit together in confusion. 

"What?"

"It's almost one am. I promised my parents I was going to go home at eleven."

He glances at the clock, before returning his gaze back to you. "Stay the night."

"What?"

"You said it would save you trouble, right?" You hesitantly nod. "Just stay the night."

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe how much he’s willing to give in now that you’re finally his. Maybe you should’ve made him jealous a long time ago. Your first instinct is to tease him about it, but you decide that you had enough power play. The both of you deserve some rest and plus, sleeping with Rafe would be a comforting feel after the sex you just had. 

When he comes to approach you, settling between your legs as he waits for an answer, you run your hands through his messy blond locks. “Okay.” 

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