#but the MOMENT you're close enough it's over for them

[gothicfied]

Hey, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a Dae-ho fic where the reader is apart of his group (with gi-hun and stuff) but used to date Thanos, who is trying to win her back. She asks the boys to help stop her from going back to him cause she can;' help but want to. Later dae ho asks why she dated thanos cause he was toxic and she admits she feels she doesn't deserve better. Dae ho confesses and promises that he will give her better. I don't know if this makes sense, but thanks :)

Why can't I let go? - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x fem!reader (maybe slight Thanos x reader)

Summary: Seeing your ex months after your break up made you question things again, but Dae-ho gave you a reason not to go back to him.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: ~ 1.6k

A/N: hi and thank you sm!! I hope this comes close to what you had in mind (:

What made being in this slaughter house even worse for you, besides the fact that you had to worry about dying every few seconds, was the fact that your literal ex boyfriend somehow also ended up here. Well, actually, you knew exactly why Thanos, as he liked to call himself now, entered the games as well — Not only did he basically bankrupt himself with investing in that stupid crypto currency, no, he took most of your savings too and created unnecessary money problems for you. That was obviously the break-up-reason, although he just wasn't the best boyfriend over all.

His presence already pissed you off when spotting him in the crowd after initially waking up in that uncomfortable bunk bed. Thanos only spotted you when walking up the weird, colorful stairs to the first game. Pushing other players to the side, he made his way up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, non-stop apologizing for what he had done to you. It has been like that since you broke things off with him, but you made the effort to block him on everything and simply not answer the door when he came by every now and then to win you back.

Thanos was annoying and dangerous, as it showed itself in Red-Light-Green-Light. Not only was he a junkie, he was also seemingly ready to sacrifice the life of other people for his own benefit. At first, when Player 456 yelled out that everyone who got 'disqualified' would essentially get shot, you didn't want to believe him. Even Thanos leaned over to you, much to your annoyance, and said "What the fuck is this guy on?". He's one to talk, huh. In the end, when Player 456 was right, you immediately took his advice and voted 'X' during the first voting.

"Thanks for saving us back there." you said to Player 456, hesitantly approaching him and his friend, Player 390. They introduced themselves as Gi-hun and Jung-bae, inviting you to sit down and eat with them. A few moments later another young man dropped down from his bed and agreed with you, also claiming that how Gi-hun acted was heroic. "Why'd you vote like that then?" you asked Dae-ho after he sat down next to you, pointing at the blue badge upon his chest. "Ah, you know," feeling like he got caught, he kept looking away from your eyes, "the money now is not nearly enough to pay off my debts. But, don't worry, I'll definitely vote different next time!" You guys continued talking and even laughing a bit, telling each other about your life outside of here.

You, alongside Jung-bae, found out that he was a marine. Both were actually, immediately finding common ground. Watching them joke around with each other, you couldn't help but smile — Which stopped as soon as you looked to the other side, to the people who voted 'O', and spotted Thanos staring at you. He was clearly not happy with how you voted or the fact that another man made you laugh, even though you only met him a few minutes ago. That's just how Thanos is, you feared: always jealous about someone, worried you're going to cheat on him, but would then flirt with his female fans in the same breath. He always claimed it was because they were his fans and they loved to feel like he was reachable, but that was never a justification for you.

For some reason, that you didn't pay attention to, a little fight between the two sides broke out, and Thanos thought this was the best time to drag you away from all that and talk with you. You saw him stand up and approach you, to which you already shook your head, but when he grabbed your arm and just took you with him, you couldn't do much. "Why would you do that?" he asked you, his eyes staring into yours. "What? What did I do now? Can't you just leave me alone?" You crossed your arms in front if your chest and just looked down at your feet, because, if you were being honest with yourself, when your ex boyfriend looked at you like that.. it kind of did something to you. Perhaps regret your decision.

"Baby, seriously?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Come on, I know you love it, princess.."

"Get to the point."

You were annoyed, agitated, but somehow still wanted to hear what he had to say. Thanos huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why did you vote like that? If we play just two more games, we could pay off our debts and maybe.. try again?" He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you a little so you'd look up at him again. When that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tried to pull you close, but that was your breaking point. Forcefully, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and started walking back to your group again: "Don't even start with that. You ruined my life."

In a twisted way, you felt bad. His proposal almost, almost, made you give in. It was just nice to see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice in this environment, it brought you comfort to know that there was someone you shared so many special memories with that you could turn to. And, you would, just if it wasn't Choi Su-bong. "Is everything okay? Was he giving you trouble?" Jung-bae asked, looking like he was ready to fight him. Actually, he was probably ready to fight everyone who voted 'O'. "No.. no, I'm okay." Without another word you sat back down next to Dae-ho, picking away at your fingernails.

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"That guy.. who is he?"

"To me? My ex boyfriend."

The man let out an 'aha', just nodding along. When he looked at Thanos and then back to you, he couldn't really believe it — That purple-haired guy was almost the complete opposite of you. You were pretty, seemed to be kind and gentle and Thanos was just kind of.. Dae-ho would say you're way out of his league. "If he's bothering you, just tell me, okay? I'll take care of it." You looked at the former marine, giving him a smile when noticing that he was serious about that. You thanked him quickly and looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

After surviving the second game together, Dae-ho and you have gotten closer incredibly fast. He was mesmerized by you, to say the least, and you appreciated that you had someone to rely on at all times. That still didn't stop Thanos from perusing you, though, it actually was the complete opposite. A few minutes before lights out he tried to talk to you again, following you to your bed, which was right behind Dae-ho's. The two of you slept head to head together, only a metal bar separating the beds.

"Please.. just listen to me! I miss you.. I swear, I'll vote 'X' the next time!" Thanos' annoying voice rang through your ears and no matter how often you told him to leave you alone, he didn't want to understand it. At some point he got annoyed and just walked off himself, sighing and planning to try again next day. With a quiet groan, you let your head fall back against your pillow, Dae-ho watching you the whole time from his side. He felt like it wasn't his place to continue to ask you about the situation when you didn't bring it up yourself, but he was still curios as to why you'd ever be with that guy.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to say something to him next time?"

"No.. It's fine, I can handle it. It's just- complicated, that's all." You were tired, your mind was reeling — People dying was stressful enough and now you had to handle your immature and manipulative ex boyfriend as well. "You don't have to answer this but," Dae-ho tucked some of his hair behind his ears, sitting up so he could properly look at you, "why did you date him? You're too good for him." His little comment made you chuckle, even though he was right and it probably wasn't all that funny. "I don't know.. to be honest, at that time I just felt like I didn't deserve any better."

Dae-ho was appalled by your words, his face scrunching up. How could you even talk about yourself like that? "You do deserve better. You deserve the world." His tone wasn't angry, but definitely a lot firmer than before, showing you that he actually meant what he said. "What?" you asked him, also slowly sitting up now. "I'm serious, you're kind and smart and deserve a better life, a better boyfriend." His words made your heart beat a little faster.

"He doesn't deserve you. I would treat you be-" As soon as Dae-ho noticed what he just said himself, he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with wide eyes. "You would treat me better?" Your voice was laced with amusement, maybe teasing him a little now. That question made him stutter a quiet 'Yeah..' and it was clear how taken aback Dae-ho was from his own words. He didn't want you to know, at least not now. He knew this wasn't an ideal place to develop a crush on a girl he could lose in an instant, but he couldn't control his feelings now, could he?

"A lot better even."

"Then show me.."

[amdiriel]

lonely pt. 2

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: After a vulnerable moment of comfort, Reader tries to navigate Azriel’s increasingly flirtatious behavior without assuming anything. Because she really shouldn’t. Right?

WARNINGS: FLUFF, slight suggestiveness, a bit of hurt but SO much comfort, not proofread we die like men

NOTE: thanks for so much love on part 1! I have some ideas for new Az fics, so lmk if you're interested in being on my Azriel taglist! xox diri

WORDS: ~4.2k

part 1 main masterlist

•••

It had been about a week and a half since my little breakdown in my room, my cycle coming and going just days after it. I attributed my moment of uncharacteristic hopelessness to hormones.

I hoped Azriel would too, since I had trouble fully looking him in the eye ever since out of embarrassment. After a night of deep rest post-letting-it-all-out, I woke the next morning to a spill of hindsight in my mind, grumbling at my ridiculousness into my pillow. Despite my cycle being a royal pain in my ass, it was a few days where I could hide safely in my room.

So the next few days, I was determined to be fine. I was great, living the dream, no worries here, wielding a grin and a dry joke as always.

The first day after my cycle ending, I wake up to blissful absence of pain in my abdomen, and treat myself to a long bath.

Afterwards, I take advantage of a brisk morning walk, the sunshine making the late winter weather less intolerably cold. I barely get two blocks from the River House before a shadow passes over my head.

I tilt my head back, squinting through the direct sunlight. Then the shadow descends at an alarmingly fast rate and touches down near-silently beside me. “Good morning,” Azriel murmurs.

I jump at his sudden appearance, the bubbling nervousness at his closeness making it more pronounced. “Shit—Azriel,” I gasp, calming myself with a breath. “What the hell?”

He chuckles lowly and nudges me slightly as he matches my resuming pace. “Sorry. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” he says, not sorry at all.

I huff and roll my eyes, even as my lips curl up as well. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You need to wear a bell.” His laugh curls around me.

“I’m not sure it would go with my leathers,” he pretends to muse. “A collar would really ruin the effect of my scariness. Not to mention the whole point of being Spymaster.”

I snort, shaking my head. He nudges me again, drawing my gaze back up to him. I find his eyes warmly on me.

“I’m glad to see you out and about,” he says. “I was worried about you.”

I let the sweet words warm me for a quick moment before I huff a small laugh. “It’s my cycle, not sickness. I’m good.”

He shrugs. “Still. I know it’s much worse for you and your sisters now that you’re all fae. You handling them alright?”

My expression softens. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. I didn’t have much pain as a human, so I think as far as fae cycles go, my pain now is relatively mild. I mostly just don’t want to do anything,” I reply with a shrug of my own.

Azriel eyes me for a moment. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I haven’t forgotten about our agreement, you know,” he says with a sly smirk.

It takes a second for it to dawn, but soon a blush blooms on my face as I remember that night. I huff a sigh, finding it within me to laugh a little at myself. “So, what, you want me to come to you any time I have a problem?” I ask dryly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers plainly.

I give him a look. “Are you now our resident therapist too?” I deadpan. “Your resume’s long enough, Shadowsinger, you can take a pause every once in a while.”

He laughs again, shaking his head at me. “I may be busy, but never for you. Never for family,” he replies, and with such sincerity in his eyes that my steps falter for a moment.

Fuck. What happened to cool and collected, Archeron?

But I swallow and arch a brow. “Sweet. But you’re barely here enough to be able to do so for the many members of our ever-growing household,” I say, thinking about our nephew Nyx.

He shrugs a shoulder, his wings unfurling then furling in a subtle motion that catches my eye. I’d always found them fascinating. “Then how about this—I’ll never be too busy for you,” he says, a note saucily that my widened eyes turn upon his smirking face.

I grasp for words for a moment, and I see his eyes delight at my moment of hesitation. I shut my mouth and switch tactics, laughing. “Why Az, you are positively Rhys-like today.”

His brows raise, expression lighting in challenge. “Oh am I? Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek at that damned pet name again. This male just made it so bloody difficult to be dignified at all. I swear, every moment in his presence is a fight for my life. “You’re all—” I gesticulate over his person, “Swaggering. It’s unnerving. Please, for my sanity, resume your duties as our resident brooder. You’re putting me off.”

His head tilts back with a hearty laugh that startles me into astonishment. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he drawls, suddenly feeling like he’s looming over me.

Stupid, tree-like male.

I don’t reply except for a disbelieving huff at his forward behavior. His smirk is self satisfied as he halts, taking a step back with a sketch of a bow.

“You’ll have to resume your walk without me, Ms. Archeron,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose at the use of my surname. His smiling eyes rove over it, dipping to my lips before locking with my own gaze again. “Think you can manage?”

I scoff and manage to flip him off as his enormous wings unfurl and beat his figure into the air. His rumbling chuckle disappears as his shape grows smaller in the sky.

—

The following days, he wasn’t as blatantly swaggering, as I had called him, but he was…

Forward. Disarmingly so.

I couldn’t seem to avoid his presence if I tried, if merely to kick some sense back into myself. First it was the library—when I had settled into the cozy window seat, my usual perch, an hour into my reading, he had strode in his silent yet confident way of his. I had stilled, as if hoping he’d simply not notice me. Fool. He notices everything. And he certainly had wasted no time sidling up to my perch and leaning over to observe what I was reading. His warmth and masculine scent was a pleasant yet oppressive blanket to my poor sensibilities. And I barely survived when he had hummed “Any good?” practically into my ear.

Or there was lunchtime—I’d wander into the kitchen to make something quick and simple for myself, and when I walked into the dining room he’d be sitting there already, looking up with a small, unassuming smile. When he bade simply, “Sit with me”, I had no choice but to obey and eat with him. In my suspicion, I confess that I switched the times I went to get lunch by random intervals, in which each and every time he either was already there or showed up soon after.

I couldn’t tell if it just happened that way, or if he was being overly clever in his intentional variation.

Now, three weeks post-meltdown incident, Azriel had been gone a few days on Cauldron-knows-what business, so I’d loosened up, no longer bracing myself like he could walk into the room at any second.

Which is apparently my folly, since as soon as I round the corner into the dining room one morning, I found him standing at the sideboard, back toward me, making a cup of tea.

I halted, nearly rearing back as my mouth started to form the word shit, but quickly clamping it down. But even the smallest of noise alerts someone as discerning as him.

He turns and calls my name with quiet warmth, and I banish the wince from my face. “Hey,” I say simply. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he says, abandoning his tea to draw near. My head tilts back as he stops in front of me. “How have you been?” he asks with a soft smile.

His quiet care is almost more flustering than his forwardness. “Well. Fine,” I answer. “And you? Your mission or whatever successful?”

He huffs amusedly. “My mission or whatever was just fine,” he replies. Then he returns to the sideboard. “Tea?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just bla—”

“Just black. I know,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me. I blink in surprise, cheeks pink. He’s been paying close enough attention that he knows that?

Of course he has, dummy. He probably has dossiers on everyone in this city with information down to the way they take their tea, the pragmatic voice in my head deadpans. You’re no exception.

I blink again as he draws near with a second cup, passing it to me. I take it with a small thank you, sipping it gratefully.

Just when I start to squirm on my feet at the silence between us, he speaks. “About what we talked about that night a few weeks ago—” I still. “You’re alright in that regard? And don’t lie, I’ll be able to tell.”

I huff a sound between a sigh and laugh, looking down. “Well, I haven’t had a night as bad as that one since then, so that’s good right?” I say with wry self-deprecation. He doesn’t reply. “But really, I’m alright. Just winter blues, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

I roll my eyes in a small flash of annoyance. “Alright, not just winter blues. But they certainly don’t help. But I’m fine. Really. You did really help that night,” I admit softly.

I don’t really notice my teacup is empty until he gently takes it from my hand and sets it next to his already abandoned cup. “What helped most, sweetheart?” he asks gently.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth—speaking my vulnerability aloud both impossible and foreign. Letting him in last time didn’t hurt. It helped, a small voice whispers in my head.

I take a breath. “Just—talking through it. Physical touch too, um…” I fight to stay steady. “It’s grounding.”

He hums, nodding. There’s a light touch to both my elbows, and my eyes shift down to find that he’d silently reached for me. I allow the touch, but don’t dare go further, suspended in the fear of the unknown.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for that,” he murmurs quietly. Suddenly I’m very aware of the air we’re sharing, how close he’s gotten to me. His hands slide slowly to my upper arms, my breath hitching as the warmth of his palms bleed through even my heavy sweater.

The panic sets in before I can think this interaction through, before I can rationalize that maybe, just maybe he wants to be close to me, wants to touch me. Instead my eyes find the clock and seize the subject change before me. “Don’t you have Valkyrie training in five minutes?”

Azriel stills and follows my gaze to the clock. His jaw works once before the fleeting tension is gone. “You’re right. I should go.” He squeezes my upper arms gently before letting his hands drop. “Stay warm today. Wind is supposed to get bad, and temperatures will drop rapidly once the sun sets.”

I nod, giving him a brief smile. “Of course, you too. Stay warm, I mean.”

He returns my smile before leaving the room.

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as soon as I’m alone again. Idiot. Silly, foolish girl.

—

Azriel was at his wits end.

He’d been pulling far more stops than his usual personality allowed, hadn’t he? She was certainly clever enough to notice that he was acting much differently around her, right? Had he just not been forward enough?

And still, she did not allow him closer, as close as two people could be. He'd given her every sign he could think of without embarrassing himself.

Impossible girl. Can’t you understand that all I want is to comfort and coddle you?

He must not have taken care to erase any tension in his expression by the time he touched down in the ring atop the House of Wind, because Cassian’s brows raised upon seeing him.

Azriel just had to cast him a cool look for his brother to relent, though he caught the half-smirk on the General’s face as he turned toward the group of priestesses warming up and began training.

It was during sparring that Nesta finally deigns to sidle up beside him as he watches a match. “So. What the hell’s going on between you and my sister?”

He stills for just a moment before erasing the reaction. He debates lying to his friend, but she’ll call him on it. He doesn't think she’ll warn him off her sister either, so finally he admits evenly, “Much less than I would like.”

The eldest Archeron huffs a laugh. “I appreciate you sparing me a lie. Honestly, Az? My sister is just supremely oblivious, clever as she is. If nothing else has worked at this point, you just need to lay one on her.”

He chokes and turns his head toward her. “I would never. Not without her express permission—”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Gods, males can be so boring. At the very least you need to sit her down and make sure she doesn’t leave until she understands exactly what your intentions are. Then you can lay one on her, if she’s amenable to it.”

Azriel takes a deep breath, letting the words sink into his turbulent mind. “I don’t want to scare her,” he admits after a pause.

“You won’t,” she replies instantly. “She’s not afraid of you, she never could be. In truth, my sister is scared of very little. But based on the fact that she’s never had a romantic attachment before, what seems like indifference is likely just borne out of nervousness.”

“I don’t want to make her nervous either.”

“It’s not you that does. It’s just—being vulnerable. Emotionally intimate with someone,” Nesta says. “Years of fighting with her have taught me that she’ll hide anything behind biting wit or a laugh and joke. I think that’s what makes it all the more difficult to understand.”

He doesn’t reply.

“But speaking not as her sister, she definitely is attracted to you,” Nesta continues. “Speaking as her sister?” He looks at her cool features. “Don’t fuck it up.” Then she stalks away to Gwyn and Emerie.

Azriel forces down a growl. Tonight. He'd do it tonight or hell, he'd go crazy from this dance around the line. He'd spent too many centuries wanting this, wanting companionship for him to squander an opportunity with, at last, a female that he connected so deeply with. A female that seemed to need his touch as badly as he needed hers.

So...yes. He'd had quite enough of waiting.

—

True to Azriel's word, it did end up being very cold today.

I forgo any ideas of taking a walk, but I did end up camping out in the warmth of Feyre's study, taking turns with her to organize some of her paperwork or play with Nyx on the floor. My nephew (and his poor parents) had had some rough nights due to the last dregs of his teething pain, but it was good to see him smiling and playing despite it all. Rhysand stopped in frequently, unable to stay from his mate and son for extended periods of time, and after the fourth time Feyre shooed him out with their laughing, squirming son in his arms.

Our bi-weekly dinner fell that evening. Usually I enjoyed it.

Usually.

The dinner was fine. But I was so chilled that I took the opportunity of warmth from any hot dish passed around to me. I shiver for the upteenth time as Azriel passes me the potatoes.

"Cold?" he murmurs close beside me, and I shiver again. Not from the cold, damn him.

"Freezing," I retort instead, scooping potatoes on my plate. "Doesn't Rhys have this place warded to hell? Why is it so drafty?"

Azriel chuckles lowly. "How do you know that it isn't just you?" he teases.

I shoot him a look. "No, no, Mr. 'Stay Warm Today', I'm quite certain it isn't."

He laughs again, and it warms me only temporarily. I finish before everyone else, per usual. Not only do I tend to eat fast, but I'm also not caught up in constant conversation. Bored, my eyes travel the room, around my friends. My family. Even in my relaxed, two-glasses-of-wine haze, my mind doesn't fail to notice how paired up they all seem to have gotten.

Feyre and Rhys feed a fussy Nyx in his highchair, Rhys's eyes roaming over his mate and child with unrepressed love. Cassian's arm was slung around Nesta's shoulder, my usually stoic sister slumped comfortably into his side. Varian looked down at Amren next to him like she was the most fascinating creature alive, which...wasn't entirely a subjective statement, considering her interesting history.

Even Elain was speaking in shy tones with Lucien, who watched her with amused adoration. I had been so proud of my younger sister for finally realizing that she could just as well choose him as not choose him. They were taking it slow, she'd been telling me recently, but she begrudgingly had found that her mate was, indeed, her perfect match.

But as with all my friends and family, my happiness for them comes at a cost. To myself.

I turn and opened my mouth to chase away the tightness in my chest, but found that the Spymaster next to me was turned away, engaging Mor in conversation on his other side.

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and instead go for my wine.

Gods, hadn't Feyre mentioned there was some sort of will-they won't-they situation between the two of them? Something that had been brewing for the five centuries they'd known each other? It was none of my business, of course, and I hardly paid attention, but even I noticed that it had been pretty consistently they-won't in the past few years of living here.

Right?

Azriel laughs at something she says, and suddenly I feel sick.

Cauldron. Was I going to be the only one left?

And even worse—had I also been imagining his forwardness with me as of late?

There's a rushing in my ears and I tune out completely, going blissfully blank.

I hardly recall cleanup. Or the migration to the living room. My body seems to draw itself to the fireplace, a hand lifting to drag a blanket off the back of an armchair as I settle on the floor before the flames.

And as I wrap the blanket around myself, shivering minutely, I can't bring myself to look at what I know I'll find behind me—each couple in the house cuddling for warmth.

—

Azriel's heart aches at the sight of her vibrating form in front of the fire.

He'd taken his place behind the armchair she usually sat in, hoping to finally coax her into having a conversation in the privacy of the hall. Or if things went well, his bedroom.

But instead he watched her walk as if unawake from the dining room to the fireplace in the living room. Unblinking. Not looking at anyone else.

He doesn't know what to do.

He also doesn't realize that a shadow had flitted to her until it came slinking back to his shoulder, whispering, Upset. Crying.

His heart broke. Oh, sweetheart.

He felt suspended in air, in time for a moment. Everyone was lounging, cuddling in their respective pairs, speaking quietly with one another. Distracted. So he took a gamble.

And silently pushed forward.

—

I felt him before I heard or saw him.

I lock up as I feel his warm body settle on the rug, not quite directly behind me, but not quite beside me either.

His touch was warm, intentional.

Mother, I needed intentional touch so badly.

I hadn't realize how upset I had gotten until the first cold tear spills down my cheek. I wipe hastily at it.

"Hey," he coos softly in my ear, his arm coming firmly around me and drawing me into him. I sniff, shooting a panicked glance over my shoulder since everyone was in the room right now. I barely register that his wings block any sight of the two of us from the rest of the room before his gentle hand guides my chin back to look up at him. "No one can see, sweet girl," he murmurs. "You're alright."

The lump tightens painfully in my throat as a second, third tear spill down my face. "Sorry," I mouth, unable to get any sound out.

"Stop," he whispers gently. "You're alright. You're safe." His hand slides to the back of my head and I let myself be guided to the shelter of his embrace, once again in his lap as I silently shake. "Are you feeling that way again?"

I nod silently.

He sighs. "Sweetheart. Why don't you just let me in?"

I untuck my wet face from his shoulder to glance confusedly up at him. "I...I am," I breathe. "You're—you're hugging me."

He shakes his head, cradling my face with both hands. "I mean: why don't you let me into that head of yours? That world? Most importantly, why can't you just let me into your heart?"

Said heart seems to stutter and stop beating.

There's a long moment where my lips don't form words, don't do anything except lay parted, slack. "What do you mean?" I finally blurt, a note of tightness in my voice.

His jaw works and he sighs heavily through his nose. "Sweetheart, is it so impossible to understand that this whole time you've found yourself lonely at the sight of everyone paired off that maybe I want to be that person for you? Your person?"

"Wh—you?" I sputter on a whisper as everything dawns, hell, practically crashes down upon me. The denial comes a split second after. "No."

"Yes."

My expression shutters in emotion. "There's no way—"

"There is," he murmurs with an adoring smile on his handsome face, thumbs brushing at my tears. "And you can't change that, ever. But what you can do is let me in."

I take a shuddery breath, in and out. "Let you in?"

He nods.

"Be my person?" I croak. "And I be yours?"

The words seem to have an effect on him, his chest puffing for a moment before deflating again. His hands cradle my face like I'm precious. I've never felt more so than in his lap. "Yes, sweet girl. Mine. And I, yours."

A release another uneven breath, feeling my body go warm all over. "I—I never thought that I...that you could want this with me. Could want me," I rasp.

He smiles. "But I do. I have for a long time."

I let out a little wet laugh. "Gods, I—" I shake my head. "I don't feel like asking questions right now. I've wanted you too, for so long. I just didn't want to delude myself, to make a fool of myself in front of you when you're so..."

He raises a brow but his eyes remain warm. "So?"

"So perfect, damn you," I finish, no real malice behind my words. When he laughs this time, I feel it seep directly through my chest and into my soul.

"You're the perfect one, sweetheart," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to my hairline like he had those weeks ago. "In more ways than one." He draws back to look at me, and I return his gaze with nothing but openness, with love. Then he breathes, "May I kiss you?"

Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I give him a little nod. "You may."

He dips his chin ever so slowly, and when his soft, full lips finally meet mine, my eyes slip shut. Tentative, and so gentle with me, he dares his tongue over my bottom lip. Though I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, I let him through.

The first swipe of his tongue, this hungrier kiss sets my soul ablaze, his hands travel to wrap around my waist, drawing my chest against his.

We kiss quietly yet needy for Cauldron knows how long. All I know is that I’m breathless, fuzzy, and light by the time I draw away softly. He chases my lips a moment more before settling his forehead against mine.

Breathing the same air.

A giddy smile tugs at my features, and I giggle with blushing embarrassment. “They definitely know what’s going on,” I whisper, fighting the urge to peek. He chuckles lowly and draws me closer, depositing a kiss on my shoulder, my jaw, then my lips.

“I sent them out,” he replies. My brows raise. “I told Rhys mind-to-mind that if he didn’t get everyone out, I’d quit.”

A laugh bubbles up within me. “Liar. He just decided to have mercy on us. On me, at least.”

Azriel grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Boyish. Free.

“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And he does.

That night, he takes me to his room, scooping me under the covers and into his body. I’m too wired, too happy to fall asleep right away. It’s when I watch him slip into dreamland, the most relaxed I’ve seen him, that there’s a tug within my chest.

A soft glow flickers to life deep in my soul. I smile and let the tears fall as I feel what I think is the bond.

I settle in. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

•••

NOTE: i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i have an idea for a short series taking place post-ACOSF, where Reader is part of a group in Montesere that’s sort of adjacent to the Valkyries, and she comes to visit the Library, so I’ll start drafting if anyone is interested k love you bye! -diri

TAG LIST: @lilah-asteria @salvatoresister1 @a-courtof-azriel @thestartitaness @casiiopea2 @kk191327 @missxmarvelous @saltedcoffeescotch

[mimipolo]

Hey I have a request

Some Nam-gyu x reader where he developed a crush and sneaks of to talk to you at random times even tho you vote opposite of him he can overlook that however when he’s with thanos he’s mean and insults you which shocks and upsets you will you forgive him?

Nam-gyu x reader

I had so much fun writing this ngl, I hope I did the idea justice <33

Sorry Se-mi it's for plot

You had met Nam-gyu and Thanos after the first vote. At the time you felt a small sense of determination that you could make it through the games, get a higher prize and pay off all your debts in one go.

They had praised you excitedly, Thanos slinging an arm around you and going on about how they'd both protect you. You had trusted them for the most part, yes they were both a bit sketchy but they had a prescence among the players so it'd be easier to follow them. You had mixed feelings about the duo, one was always hyper and loved to mess with you and the other had a serious staring problem and a stupid smirk.

At the moment it didn't matter how you felt about them, you needed to get out of here. And now. You had barely survived the last game, knees grazed from when you fell and quickly scrambled to your feet. You wince at the pain as you curl in on yourself and rub your thumb over your bloodied hands. You were desperate for a sense of comfort or solidarity which at the moment only you could provide for yourself.

You were startled to see a head of black hair come out of nowhere from the ladder to your bed, angled eyes meeting yours hazily. Nam-gyu, a rare visitor. You're still startled by his sudden appearance, clutching your chest slightly as your eyes widen in surprise.

"Nam-gyu? What are you-"

"I'm coming up."

You don't get the choice to protest against it, he's already hauling himself up to get on your bunk, sitting cross legged in front of you. For a moment you're genuinely confused to why he's here, your bunk was fairly high off the ground and from how he was earlier you didn't expect him to be capable of climbing. Guess he sobered up. He's sighing softly as he links his fingers together, gazing at you as if in deep thought.

"You're gonna vote "X" next right?" He lifts his head up to see your reaction, clenching his linked fingers when he sees your lips purse as you look away from him. That was enough of an answer.

You personally are terrified, you had never been particularly close with the man and you were tense as to why he decided to make the trek up to your bed to ask you such a question. What's he going to do? Is he angry? Noticing the small shift in your body language he stops spacing out and runs a hand over his face. This sucks, honestly. The small infatuation based of pure curiousity he had for you had developed into a genuine crush he couldn't shake off. You intrigued him to no end and he was just working up to talking to you more.

So why'd this have to happen?

He's not that upset you want to leave, as much as he preached about how everyone should "Play one more game!", He understood the main basis of wanting to leave was the simple passion to live. A passion that'd he'd lost touch with after he lost everything he had. But you were in a similar situation, yet despite that you always seemed slightly hopeful things would work in your favour, and when they didn't you kept a level head. A rationality he wished he also had. You were smart, attractive and worst of all reasonable. Which is why you wanted to leave.

He's still staring at you but you feel less creeped out, you feel more worried. The usual carefree demeanor he had seemed to be crumbling right before you, he almost looked more tense than you.

There was a reason why he had come here, he didn't want to ask in front of Thanos. With him he'd be obligated to maintain this facade of now hating your entire being, but that wasn't the case, in fact it was very far from it. He wanted you like nothing else, selfishly. He could only hope you read him openly from the small amount of vulnerability he'd give you, something you were good at.

"Choose "x", I don't really care."

"Oh."

You are honestly pleasantly surprised by his words, your anxiety lowering massively. With the tensity gone you could see he looked...worried for you? You weren't totally sure but he laughs bitterly, pulling his signature move of pushing his hair behind his ears.

"Just know that, I'll vote to stay. So I'll still be sticking with Thanos."

You looked at him confused, and honestly he was too. There was no need to share all this information with you but he couldn't help it, he wanted to be open with you, show you how he is when you could be alone together.

You jolt slightly when he lightly takes one of the hands you're holding onto and taking them in his own. Streaks of blood crumbling away when he rubbed it away with careful thumbs, you could only watch him silently, admiring his oddly considerate actions. Even if the tint of blood still stained your palms. What's with all this special treatment, did he like you or something?

Before you could question him about what had just happened between you two he's sighing deeply and rubbing his hands together, ready to climb off your bunk.

"I'll try look out for you when I can."

And with that he's gone, you're left to sit with your thoughts and overthink how sweet he was to you just now. He was never like that before. Before you realised it a small smile was on your lips as you savoured the cold, brief moment of his touch still on your hand.

Though the next moment left you quite confused, it was time to vote. Everyone was still conflicted but you had made your choice and had a silent comradery with Nam-gyu. It gave you the bit off confidence to press the "x" button, some cheered while others groaned as you quickly switched your blue patch for its opposing side.

You could hear the familiar deep voice of Thanos going "What the hell man, we agreed one more game??" the direct confrontation made you physically tense as you made your way to side of potential exit. Nam-gyu didn't say a word, didn't even look at you either. Strange, you thought but you mostly brushed it off.

What the hell [Name], we agreed to keep playing, ya just switching on us all of a sudden?"

Thanos' voice echoed in your ears as he had you cornered near your bunk, you glance to Nam-gyu for some sort of support, even if it was just telling his friend to relax but you were quickly disappointed.

"Tch, did you really expect them to stay, I saw 'em practically trembling after the last round."

You felt your heart aches at his words, your expression immediately dimming as you stared at him confused. But unluckily for you he had mastered his poker face to the last detail. If he felt any guilt for what he said you wouldn't know, it was all behind that senile smirk now.

"Kehaha, nah you're right. All those loud sounds scare ya already?"

"Poor thing."

Thanos pushes you back accusingly, forcing your back to meet the unforgiving metal bars of the bunks, just as suddenly he's in your personal space, grabbing the red velcro badge on your chest roughly as he shook you. His eyes dilated widely as he threatened you with crazed, wild eyes.

"You're lucky this is there's a revote, switch this "x" to an "o" or I'll never let you live it down, got it?"

He laughs when you stagger back when he lets you go, Nam-gyu joining in with own mocking chuckle, it hurt you in a way it wouldn't have before. What was all that about earlier then, was it just a lie? But why, he didn't get anything out of it.

And again you're left alone to deal with your own self destructive thoughts, you just wanted to leave this place, it felt like you were suffocating within its walls.

Things ended up more violent than he had expected, he's panting as he rips the fork from the man's neck for the last time. How he felt? Great. It was like some great awakening as he stumbled up to his feet. It's only then he takes the time to digest the fact Thanos is dead, what a sad way to go hm?But also equally as pathetic. He wanted to laugh but he wanted to shout in frustration too. He does neither, looking down at his unpredictable partner in crime now laying on the floor covered in grime and blood. It's when he starts to feel the growing ache in his chest that the guards finally barge in to stop the fighting, forcing them all out the crime scene.

You're on your bunk, cuddled up to yourself as usual when you spot him, bloodied and worn along with other men. Your heart sinks as you take in the situation, watching as they shouted and cursed impurities from both sides. You had switched sides of sleeping arrangements due to the votes, so now you were able to get a slightly lower bunk bed. He shouldn't know where you were and yet his eyes snapped to you, for a moment they crumble slightly, a sliver of the worry he had coming out just for a moment. And then he's walking off, not looking back once.

It's lights out and you were terrified, you had finally found out what had happened in the men's bathroom and you knew it could lead to nothing good. Everywhere you thought to hide felt dangerous and you had no one to rely on, no one to truly trust.

He's shaking, his hands trembling as he sits perched on Thanos' bed, in memory of the annoying guy. He's feeling conflicted, he couldn't tell if he had cared for him or not, all he knew the indifference he felt for others wasn't the same with colourful haired man. He pops two pills in his mouth, brushing his knuckles against his lips as if the action were sacred. Soon thoughts drifted back to you. How were you holding up? Did you have anyone there to protect you? A sick part of him hoped not, he wanted to be the only one to look out for you, the only one you'd think to turn to.

He feels amazing, never felt so resolute in the entirety of the games than when he killed. Hissing in satisfaction as he struck the deadly cutlery into Se-mi's neck for what felt the 100th time. Wiping the blood of his face with the back of his hand when he feels a prescence behind him. He doesn't bother taking back his weapon as he gets up from his crouched position to turn towards the figure.

It's you.

You look absolutely terrified, your upper body was uptight and you could've gotten away with looking less afraid if it wasn't for how your legs trembled ever so slightly. You're fighting with yourself and you finally will your body to run but he's quick, yanking you back by your arm and holding you against him possessively. His breathing is hard and his bloody hands are firm against your back.

Heavy breaths fill your ears as he looks at you with wide shaken eyes, he'd been looking for you, even on this killing spree.

"You asshole, what are you doing are you crazy??"

"Heh- huh, yeah I feel like it a little..." the small chuckle he lets out feels distant from his true feelings and he wished you'd tell him why he's like this.

"You lied, you said you'd look out for me, prick." You want your words to be firm but the fear of everything around you was still so intense, it shook your words and made your throat tight.

"I know, I know alright. I said when I 'can' Thanos would've made things worse for both of us if I said something..."

"But he's not here anymore... I'll watch out for you, for real this time, promise."

Even in his drugged state you could tell these were his thoughts the whole time, and his visit to your bed made slightly more sense, he just wanted you to know he didn't actually hate you. What a weird guy, why not just come out and say what the game plan was? You wanted to ask him all these things, shout and push at him until you got all your frustration out.

But you're drained, there's still the far away screams of new victims being made and you couldn't tell what was side was losing.

But he's shushing you quietly, when you weren't even crying, but now it triggered you to. Hot silent tears running down your face as he huddled you into a corner and made you sit against the wall behind a fallen mattress. Grabbing your face and pressing his forehead to yours as he whispered softly.

"Nothings happening to us, we're getting that stupid cash prize and leaving this shitty place."

And then he's off again, you don't know where, but you'll stay here quietly and hope for his quick return.

[jd-loves-fiction]

hii~ how are you, dear?

so.. how do you think leona or (and) malleus would react when they see someone flirting with mc and mc flirting back? (they are not a couple yet but already have feelings for each other. mc didn't flirt with the other people seriously, they were just playing)

🌑can you tell I have a favorite 💀🙃

❖ 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 ❖

Oooh you're playing a dangerous game

Chances are Leona's been dropping HEAVY hints that he wants you

If you're not a beastman, there's a chance you haven't noticed but if whoever dared to flirt with you is a beastman and they still decided to do it...

They're about to find out why the lion's the king of the savanna

Leona's not the hesitant kind of guy when it comes to romance, if he wants you he'll make it very clear

But the moment he senses that you might not be interested, he'll back off

That being said, I do believe the actual first step into a relationship would have to be made by you

Reason being that Leona is quite comfortable in his loneliness and in the Sunset Savanna women tend to be the ones making moves

If you're not a woman, my opinion still stands since he's lazy and fine with romance pass him by

So this situation is actually very likely to happen before you get into a relationship

But he will be glaring straight through this pest with his poisonous green gaze until they piss off

If that doesn't happen, then his jealousy might actually persuade to do something like striding up to you and throwing an arm over your shoulders

He won't say anything since he feels he shouldn't need to, just waits for them to give into his glowering and scowling

This might be what triggers a confession, whether from you or him! :D

(The one who'd been flirting with you, however, might never know peace again💀🫡)

❖ 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 ❖

This might be an even more perilous situation (not that you'd notice)

While Leona likely has some experience with romance and therefore isn't all that surprised by this situation

Malleus however (in my opinion) is entirely inexperienced when it comes to love and so unprepared for this

All he feels is ugly green envy crawling around inside his chest

Why are they so close to you? Why would they say those things to you? Why would reciprocate? Do you not care for him as he does you??🥺

Bby is spiraling 💀

Pray Lilia is around (tho he usually is) to help him understand the situation

He'll understand that he just hasn't been clear enough with his advances and so will take this as an opportunity to make them crystal clear

By confessing to you right in front of the other person :)

By the time he's done they should be gone (if they didn't dash off immediately upon seeing THE Malleus Draconia approaching them)

He might become a little more possessive than usual after this occurrence

Can you blame him? He's not used to the feelings you awaken in him :(

Plus, dragons are very protective of their treasure 👀

[joeybluvs]

Like That?

warnings: soft dom! joe, smut (literally all this fic is 😭), also I haven't written since last December, so this is probably bad, but I hope y'all still like it😭💀

description: y/n and Joe hookup in a hotel room.

As the door to the hotel room shuts Joe pushes you up against it and begins making out with you. As you two are making put against the door y/n let's out a soft moan.

Joe slowly pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips "You're fucking perfect..." His fingers trail down your sides, making you shiver.

Y/n looks into his eyes "Thank you." Y/n says, still breathless from them making out.

Joe smirks softly "No need to thank me. Just stating facts..." His other hand moves to your lower back, pulling you closer "You know what?" Whispers teasingly "I think I need to kiss you more." Smiles playfully "For science, of course..."

"I think you should." Y/n laughs. "For science obviously."

Joe laughs and leans in to press his lips against yours again, the kiss quickly deepening as his tongue explores your mouth. His hands roam over your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

"Okay, science experiment complete. And the results are... you're even more amazing than I thought." *Grins and pulls you into his arms, and leans in to kiss you again, this one softer and sweeter.

Y/n pulls away slowly and let's out a small laugh. "So are you Joe." Y/n says.

Joe gives you a playful smirk "You think I'm amazing, huh? Chuckles softly I must be doing something right then..." His hands slide down to your hips, keeping you close "So... what should we do now?"

"You tell me." Y/n smirks.

Joe leans down and whispers in your ear "Maybe we could get more comfortable... smirks I believe there's a very nice bed just a few steps away..." trails kisses down your neck "Or we could stay here... I'm not picky."

Y/n looks over at the bed.

Noticing your gaze, Joe smiles and scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed. He gently lays you down on the soft comforter and crawls on the bed beside you, looking at you with a mischievous grin. "Much better..." Joe smiles and leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his body pressing against yours. His hands start to explore, caressing your curves through your clothes. "You're so beautiful..." He murmurs against your lips, his voice low and husky with desire.

Y/n smiles against his lips.

Joe holds your face with one hand while continuing to kiss you, his other hand slowly moving down your body, tracing gentle patterns on your skin Breaks the kiss occasionally to place soft kisses along your jawline and neck. His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up "You okay if I take this off?"

Y/n looks at Joe and slowly nods in approval and smiles. "Yeah..."

Joe carefully removes your shirt, revealing your stomach. He places his hand on your stomach and looks into your eyes, his expression softening "You're so fucking pretty.." His hands move up your sides, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside.

His words make Y/n smile even more. "Thank you Joe."

Jos smiles and moves down to slowly unbuttons your jeans. You lift your hips to let him easily slide them down your legs along with your underwear. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before crawling back up your body, pressing gentle kisses along the way. "You're perfect..."

Joe looks up at you with desire in his eyes as he takes off his own shirt, tossing it aside.

Y/n looks at Joe. "Fuck Joe you look so good."

Joe blushes slightly at the compliment and leans in to kiss you again, his muscular frame pressing against you. His fingers trail down your side, making you shiver "I could say the same thing... and more." He whispers between kisses "You okay with this? Want to keep going?" He asks, and you slowly nod yes in response.

Joe grins and kisses down your neck, nipping gently at your skin "Good..." He says quietly as he begins to trail kisses lower, making you let out a soft moan in response

He laughs softly, clearly pleased with the reaction. "Like that, huh?" He asks as he continues his trail of kisses, eventually reaching your chest. "And you're so pretty..." He whispers, placing soft kisses around your nipples before gently sucking on one, which makes you let out another soft moan.

Joe smirks against your skin "God, you sound amazing..." He says as he moves lower, kissing and nipping at your stomach "Do you like when I touch you like this?" His words come out husky and low as he begins to runs his fingers along your thighs.

You nod yes in response, as you are beginning to not be able to form whole thoughts.

Joe positions himself between your legs, placing soft kisses along your inner thigh "I can tell..." His hand traces gentle patterns on your waist while his lips move closer to where you really want them, making you let out a moan.

Joe leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your center. His tongue flicks out to taste you, a soft moan rumbling in his chest. "Fuck, you taste so good..." He starts to lick and suck, his fingers joining in to spread you open for him.

"Fuck Joe." Y/n moans.

Joe smirks mischievously and buries his face deeper, his hands hooking under your thighs to hold you still as he feasts on you. "Look at me..." His voice commands, his eyes locking with yours as he continues to eat you out.

As your eyes lock Joe sees the desperation in your eyes and loves it. "That's it, look at me... let me see how much you want it..." His fingers rubbing your clit in circles.

He slips a finger inside of you, slowly pumpingit in and out. He can feel you getting closer, your hips bucking against his face. "You're gonna break if I keep doing this, aren't you?"

Y/n can't even respond. The feeling of him eating you out, and fingering taking over making you just moan in response.

Joe grins against your skin and continues his eating you out as he adds another finger beginning to scissor them inside you as his tongue laps at your clit. He can feel your legs starting to shake, you're close.

His eyes lock with yours as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot perfectly. He sucks hard on your clit and you're done for. "That's it, cum for me..." He commands, making you cum hard.

He laps up your release, his fingers still curled inside you as he draws out your climax. Only when you start to come down from your high does he finally pull his fingers out, sucking them clean. "Perfect..." He whispers, crawling up your body.

Joe leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, letting you taste yourself on him. "I love how you taste..." He murmurs against your mouth, his hand reaching between you two to unbuckle his own pants.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to push his pants and boxers down, kicking them off along with his shoes. He settles back between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core. "You okay with this next part?" He asks, his voice low and husky with desire. "Definitely." Y/n nods.

Joe positions himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip teasingly against you "Good..." He whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss as he slowly pushes inside "You're so tight..." He moans against your mouth

Joe breaks the kiss to look into your eyes as he slowly pushes in. "Look at me..." His voice is low and commanding, his hands reaching up to cup your face as he slowly pushes inside.

His eyes lock with yours as he slowly pushes in, stopping to let you stretch around him. "You're gonna have to look at me the whole time..." His voice is firm, his hand reaching down to hook your leg over his arm, opening you up even more.

Joe smiles and starts to pull out slowly before pushing back in, setting a slow and steady pace. "That's it... look at me..." He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his hand holding your leg in place as he starts to pick up speed. "Fuck, you're so beautiful..."

"Joe." Y/n moans out.

Joe buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he picks up speed. "Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that..." He grunts, his hips slapping against yours with each thrust. "You okay?" Joe asks, and you nod in response.

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. "You sure? I can slow down..." He says, his voice laced with concern, but his hips still moving in a steady rhythm.

Y/n nods. "I'm sure...thanks for checking though."

Relieved, he leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his hips never stopping their movement. "Good..." He murmurs against your mouth as he starts to pick up speed again.

Joe smirks and quickens his pace, hitting that perfect spot inside you "Like that?" He asks, his voice thick with desire as he adjusts the angle slightly. "Tell me you don't love how my big cock feels inside you..."

Y/n moans, "Yes Joe...Fuck right there it feels perfect!" You moan out as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

Joe continues to thrust deep inside of you before pulling put and positioning you to be sitting on his lap as he begins to thrust up into you.

Joe wraps your legs around his waist and starts to bounce you on his lap, his large hands supporting your backside. "You like that?" He pants, his face contorted with pleasure as he looks down to watch himself fill you up.

"Yes fuck." You moan out and bury your face in his neck.

Joe wraps his arms around you and holds you even closer as he continues to bounce you on his lap, his powerful thighs providing the leverage he needs to lift you up and slam you back down on him.

Joe nips at your throat as he picks up speed, his hips driving up into yours with increased force. "Fuck I love feeling how perfectly you're taking me in... every inch of that big dick stretching your tight little pussy..."

"You love it, don't you? He pants, pulling back slightly to look down at where you're connected. "The way I fucking destroy your pussy with my cock."

One of Joe's hands move up to grip your chin possessively "Tell me who's fucking you this good..." He demands, slamming up into you harder with each word "Say it..." His eyes darken with desire as he maintains eye contact

"Fuck...Joe you are...you're fucking me this good." You moan.

Joe smirks satisfactorily and leans in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as he continues to pound into you. "Fuck yeah I am... He breaks the kiss to pant against your lips "Now be a good girl and cum on my dick..."

At his words you cum hard on his cock.

Joe Moans loudly as he feels your pussy clench around him, pulling out at the last second and stroking himself to completion, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum shoot onto your stomach and chest. "God damn..." He pants heavily, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours.

After a moment, he lifts his head and looks at you, a soft smile on his face. "You okay, baby?" He asks gently, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. "I got a little rough there..."

"Yeah Joe." You responded with a soft smile

Joe nods and leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his touch soothing and tender. "Good... He murmurs against your mouth "You're so fucking perfect, you know that? He says making you blush.

Authors note:

anyways I hope you guys liked it even though it's probably bad lol 😭. I wanna start posting on here more so if you did like it, look out for more fics by me 🫶 ly guys.

[honeyryewhiskey]

BETWEEN HEAVEN AND DESIRE

angel!reader or dean's prayers save you from heaven's merciless punishment. the weakened state of your grace leaves you feeling a plethora of entirely human needs—and you're not sure you have any faith left in the home that crafted you to fight against those desires. warnings!! smut with build up 18+, depictions of violence, blood/injuries that heal, heaven being bad, body worshipping dean?, angel's first time. dean talks u thru it!! bc he would!! 4.8k words

It is not uncommon for angels to go rogue after too much time spent amongst mortals. So much so, Heaven has protocols for repairing a weapon who’s gone soft. Some speculate it’s one of god’s little amusements—create a fleet of soulless celestials, but leave just enough parts for something a lot like a soul to fester when touched by the right human.

It’s this paradox that plagues your mind as a dozen silver blades slice through your flesh and grace—again.

The Council surrounds you in a cold circle of judgment, their faces impassive, their voices ringing with divine authority. Each word of their chant strikes like a hammer to your heart: Traitor. Defiled. Corrupted.

“Do you repent for the sin of your attachment to the mortal, Dean Winchester?” one of them demands through the chaos of sound.

You want to scream, but your voice is lost in the agony. The angel blade—designed to kill—wields a newfound torture as each lashing cuts into your grace. Thick streams of blood pool from glowing wounds, as your knees hit the ground as strength gives way to pain. Withholding the tears that threaten to fall with shaky breaths, you cling to a lingering stubbornness, refusing to answer their demands. 

This torment, their means of correction—it’s not enough to strip your wings or grace. No, they want you broken in ways you didn’t think angels could break.

Your response to their demands takes too long. As a result, a blinding light presses into your mind, and with it, flashes of Dean—laughing, swearing, holding you close after the darkest nights. The way his touch melted your resolve, the warmth in his eyes when he whispered your name. These memories are dragged out of you, twisted until they no longer resemble what they were.

They replay your time together, but in each retelling, they inject doubt. The gentle words he spoke now sound hollow, calculated. The moments of connection feel like manipulation. He never loved you, the light whispers, digging deep into your heart. He only used you.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “No,” you choke out, but it’s barely audible over the chanting and slashing.

The blades come down again, harder, carving away the truth of who you are, leaving only what the Council wills you to be.

“You were created to serve Heaven’s purpose,” one of the voices booms. “Not your own, and certainly not his.”

And then, through the torment, you hear it—soft, rough-edged, and impossibly real.

Your name in the form of a mantra, the beginning of a mortal’s prayer.

“Angel? I don’t even know if this will work, if you can really hear me... but I’m trying here.” Dean stumbles around his words, his doubt laced within each syllable.

Your breath catches. It’s a faint echo at the edge of your mind, pushing against the light’s mental invasion that’s trying to rework the fabric of your memories.

“I’m praying,” he continues awkwardly. “Guess that’s what this is. I don’t know where you are, but—hell, I just... I need to know you’re okay.” His voice falters, a pulsing pain taking up the space of his silence before his cuts in again. Quietly, like a bashful sinner in confession, “I miss you.”

The Council continues, oblivious to the sound of him, to the way his words infiltrate their illusions.

“Whatever heaven says—Angel, please, don’t trust them.” his tone shifts, fierce and treading on desperation. “They’re assholes, they’ll do whatever they can to make you be like them. Please, don’t let them change you.” 

The tears finally break, streaming down your face as your hands curl into fists. His voice drowns out the Council, drowns out the pain, grounding you in the truth they’re trying so desperately to erase. It’s nauseating, trying to draw strength from your tattered grace. But the strain in Dean’s voice strikes your instincts, and everything inside of you fights against the light reworking your mind. 

“I need you, Angel.” His voice cracks, “come back to me. Please.”

When an angel’s grace is weakened, it allows for heaven to remold the weapon like clay. A being reduced to material to work with. However, grace is the luminous silver line separating celestial from human. The more it pools out of you, shimmering amidst the red, the closer you reach mortality.

And the freedom of emotions that come with that kind of existence.

A tidal wave of remorse, anguish, fury, and desire radiate within. You can hardly breathe with the demanding sensations of emotion and survival. It’s consuming, and somehow—powerful. 

The Council doesn’t notice the shift in you until it’s too late. The invading light that binds you flickers, then shatters as you push against it with every ounce of your will.

“Enough,” you whisper, your voice trembling through panting breaths.

They realize their mistake as you unfurl what little remnant of grace you can muster, searing their illusions away with a growling scream of defiance. The silver blades raise in their grasps, preparing for battle, as you rise to your feet. 

But no part of you aims to attack, the only thoughts you have are of Dean. 

“Stand down, Angel. You are not strong enough to take all of us.” one of them warns, but their voice is dim beneath the thunder in your chest.

You glare into their blinding forms, disgust written on their holy faces, chest heaving as your wings unfurl. “I am done fighting.” 

And with that, you vanish in a burst of light, tearing through the veil with a single destination in mind.

In a blink, you’re standing in Dean’s motel room on shaky knees. The power you exerted to flee heaven has left nothing but a faint glimmer of grace within. 

Dean is a mirage of movement, your eyes growing delirious from the draining of your essence. He catches your weakened form just as you begin to drop to the floor. 

“Angel,” he says softly, his eyes raking over your wounds. Dozens of bleeding cuts, your clothes stained and tattered. The pain consumes you again, an aching cold taking over every nerve ending. His hand brushes bloodied hair from your face, his other arm wrapped so tightly around you, you’re sure nothing could rip you from his grasp. Not this time. 

“What did they do to you?” he demands as your body trembles, clinging to the bits of grace that remain within your being.

“I’ll be alright,” you whisper, “just need… rest.” His warmth surrounds you as his hands steady you. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the torment has ceased, and though your mind is a hazy mess of shattered memories there is one thing you know for certain: Dean’s prayers have saved you.

He hooks an arm under your legs and carries you over to the bed. With the gentleness of a man cradling a wounded bird, he sets you down carefully, his movements deliberate and full of quiet reverence. Kneeling on the floor beside you, adrenaline ripples off of him and invades your senses. The rapid beat of his heart, blood pooling his muscles on instinct. 

You raise a shaky hand to his chest, but his focus remains on your wounds, fussing with the fabric of your tattered shirt to investigate their severity. 

“Dean,” you whisper, but he doesn’t stop, your finger lift to curl around his jaw, “it’s okay—“

“Look at you!” he cuts you off, “why aren’t you healing?” 

“I will, I just need time.” you murmur, dropping your hand and letting your eyes close again, “I can smell your anxiety, Dean. It’s—distracting.”

He scoffs, but the concern doesn’t unwind from his brows. “Right. You’re bleeding to death but it’s my anxiety that’s bothering you?”

“Yes.” you manage dryly, despite the moan of pain you expel as you shift uncomfortably, the injuries to your back are making lying down impossible. Through shaky breaths you sit up, Dean’s strong hands hovering your frame as you do so. His eyes are still on your wounds, the beat of his heart finding an impossible speed as you gingerly wrap your fingers around the hem of your tattered sweater, lifting the material to reveal the damage done to your body.

“What are you doing?” Dean’s voice is gruff, his eyes narrowing as he watches you shift uncomfortably.

A flicker of annoyance sears through, the intensity of it adding to your nausea. “Lifting my shirt.” your voice matches the feeling inside, your fingers fumbling with the hem of the tattered fabric as you give him a full view of your injuries.

“Why?” His tone is sharp, matching yours. 

Your features contort with confusion, “because you clearly want to make sure I’m healing.”  

His eyes quickly advert as he clears his throat, a hand running over his chin—something you’ve noticed he does when he’s ‘at his wits end’ as he likes to phrase it.

“Why are you looking away now?” 

“Because you’re—,” he stops himself with a groan, a flat expression on his face as his eyes find yours, “why aren’t you wearing a bra?” 

“Oh,” you look down at your completely exposed chest, “it seemed… restrictive.” An unfamiliar emotion prickles heat against your skin: embarrassment. 

He nods, sighing as his head tilts, brows raised in quiet agreement. Your wounds remain a blazing red, skin working slowly to stitch itself back together beneath the bloody smear marks. 

“See?” you remark, dropping the material to cover yourself again. “Healing.” 

There is an anxious swirling in your stomach, one not bred from physical pain like you’re used to. The effects of weakened grace, the invitation of intense emotions feels like an uncomfortable itch beneath your skin. 

“Uh, huh.” he hums, but his scowl mismatches the slowing pace of his heart, the anxiety he refuses to acknowledge, subsiding at the sight of your healing skin.

He rises to his feet with a huff, you watch as he disappears into the bathroom. A moment passes until the sound of running water breaks the quiet as he comes back in. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and you can tell me which sons of bitches I’ll be ganking for this.” 

Dean scoops you up again without hesitation, his arms steady despite your weight against him. You don’t have the strength to protest—not that you want to—and simply let yourself sink into his embrace. His chest is warm, the rhythmic beat of his heart oddly comforting as he carries you to the bathroom.

The space is small and sterile, but Dean makes it feel safe. He uses his foot to push the door open wider and carefully sets you down on the closed toilet lid, one hand lingering on your shoulder to steady you.

Steam begins to rise from the filling tub, the water crystal clear and inviting in the dim light. Dean crouches in front of you, his fingers brushing against your knee to get your attention.

"Think you can handle this, or do you need help?" His voice is soft, but the tension in his jaw betrays the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

You nod faintly, though your body protests every movement. "I can manage."

He stands, his arms crossed, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he turns his back slightly, giving you the barest hint of privacy while staying close enough to intervene if needed. You peel off your torn and bloodied clothes with shaky hands, the effort nearly exhausting.

As you step into the warm water, a hiss escapes your lips. The heat stings at first, the water seeping into the raw edges of your wounds, but soon the ache begins to dull, replaced by a soothing warmth. You sink down slowly, letting the bath support your weight.

Dean shifts, his eyes flicking over you briefly before settling on a safe spot on the wall. He sits down heavily on the closed toilet lid, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his green eyes sharp and unyielding.

"Start talking," he says, his tone low but insistent. "What the hell did they do to you?"

You hesitate, staring down at the rippling surface of the water. Your voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "They said I was corrupted... that I’d betrayed Heaven."

Dean’s jaw clenches, his knuckles whitening as his hands ball into fists. "Those pious bastards," he mutters. "For what? Doing the right thing? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? How you’ve been helping me and Sam?" His words dance around the truth. How close you’ve grown while working alongside the Winchesters. Something, an almost malleable energy hangs in the air between you two each time you’re together. 

A line never crossed, words never spoken—but it has always been there.

You nod, your breath hitching as the memories flood back—the blades, the light, the voices that tore into you like barbed wire. "They wanted to... recondition me. Make me forget."

"Forget what?"

"Everything," you whisper. "You. Sam. What it felt like to care. They tried to rewrite me, make me believe your—friendship—was all a lie."

Dean’s face twists with anger, his fists pounding lightly against his thighs as he exhales sharply through his nose. "What gives them the right, huh? Because god wills it or some crap?" he says firmly, the words spoken in question, but you know in Dean’s book it’s more of a statement of fact. He doesn’t trust heaven or it’s angels. Well, all of it except you. 

"I don’t know anymore," you murmur, your voice breaking. A lump forms in your throat as you consider all that has been done to you by the ones you followed, dutifully, for centuries. Your chest constricts in an unfamiliar pain, hurt and confusion finding an entirely new stupor within your heart. You reach for the soap, focusing on the movement of hands as you scrub the blood from your skin to think of anything but the pain festering within. "Your voice,” you being, voice at a whisper, “your prayer. It brought me back. You reminded me who I was."

He falls silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. When he finally speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. "I should’ve prayed sooner."

"You did it when it mattered," you say softly. "That’s what saved me."

Dean looks up, his eyes locking with yours, a flicker of guilt and relief dancing in the green depths. "You shouldn’t have needed saving in the first place," he says quietly. "They’ll pay for this. I don’t care if I have to storm Heaven itself."

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. "I don’t doubt you’d try."

He leans back, his hands running over his face before resting on his thighs. "I just… I can’t lose you. Not to them. Not to anyone."

The weight of his words settles in the air between you, and for a moment, the pain and exhaustion fade, replaced by the quiet certainty that, no matter what happens next, Dean will always fight for you.

You place the soap back on the bathtub nook, the faint echo of the movement breaking the silence. Turning your attention back to him, you murmur, “Thank you.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For caring,” you reply, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. “And you can’t say you don’t—I can hear your heartbeat quicken when you lie, remember?”

Dean huffs out a breath, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth as he pushes himself to his feet. “Damn angel ears,” he mutters, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Come on, let’s get you outta here before you start pruning up.”

You let him help you out of the tub, water dripping in soft splashes onto the tiles as he wraps a towel snugly around you. His hands are firm yet gentle, careful not to brush against the worst of your injuries as he leads you back into the room.

Settling onto the bed, you adjust the towel around your shoulders, shivering slightly as the cool air brushes against your damp skin. Dean follows a moment later, grabbing another towel before sitting behind you on the mattress.

“Sit still,” he says gruffly, though the way his fingers work through your wet hair is anything but rough. He dries it with slow, deliberate movements, the repetitive motion almost lulling you into a trance.

The quiet is comfortable, filled only by the faint rustle of the towel and the occasional sigh from Dean. His presence, solid and steady behind you, feels like an unspoken promise—a reassurance that, no matter how broken the world might seem, there’s still a place where you’re safe.

“Looks like you’re healing pretty good. You feeling any better?” Dean’s voice is low, his fingers brushing gently over your shoulder as he speaks. 

“Physically, yes,” you admit, “but I keep feeling things. Far more intense than I’m used to, because my grace is so weak.”

He frowns, tilting his head. “Feeling things? Like what?”

“Hurt, mostly,” you start, your voice quiet but steady. “And when we’re close like this,” you turn slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, “...desire.” 

He clears his throat, the faintest hint of pink creeping up his neck as his eyes dart away. “I’m sure it’ll go away once your grace—or whatever—gets stronger.”

“No, Dean.” You shift to face him fully, the towel tucked around you loosening as your hands reach up to cup his face. It pools at your lap as cool air ripples goosebumps across exposed skin. His eyes snap back to yours, wide but unresisting, his hands folding over yours, warm and steady. There is a storm of hesitation in his stare, but he doesn’t push you away.

The faint scent of adrenaline lingers in the air between you, your heightened senses picking up the slight quickening of his pulse, the tension in his jaw, the way his breathing hitches ever so slightly. You search his face, reading every unspoken emotion that flits across it.

“Talk to me, Angel.” His voice is rough, his green eyes darkened with something you can’t quite name. His expression is soft but insistent, pressing you for more than just what your senses can tell you. “Don’t just sense me out. Talk to me.”

Your thumbs brush over the scruff of his jaw as you take a shaky breath. “The desire I feel has always been there. I’ve ignored it, buried it, pretended it wasn’t real. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do. But now…” Your voice wavers, but your resolve doesn’t. “Now I can’t just ignore it anymore. I need to give in.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and electric, and you watch as Dean’s expression shifts. His lips part as if to speak, but he hesitates, the tension crackling like a live wire between you. His hands tighten slightly over yours, grounding you, even as his restraint begins to waver.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” his voice is low and cautious, like he’s trying to hold himself back.

“Yes, I do, Dean.” Your eyes lock with his, unwavering. “I may not be human, but I am not naive. And I know what I want.”

His fingertips curl into your hands, as if a tightened grip could still the rapid pacing of his pulse. Your stare is intense, boring into his jade irises. Searching for salvation in a new religion, one that might promise more pleasure than pain. 

He huffs, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “Don’t you think fleeing Heaven was enough trouble for one day, little bird?”

You grin, tilting your head playfully. “Trouble’s never in short supply with you around, Dean.”

An exchange of breaths passes the divide, but it’s Dean who moves first. His lips capture yours in a kiss that electrifies every inch of your skin. His hands find your waist, fingers digging into sore muscles—making you gasp at the intoxicating sensation of hurt and relief. 

Your lips match his pace, slow and controlled. You pull him closer with your hands on his neck, his body following yours to lie against the old motel sheets. He pulls away, his shirt coming off in one swift movement before he’s back to your lips. 

You’ve never been more grateful to feel. Every press of his bare chest on yours thickens the heat claiming the reign of your core. And the deep, primal, desire to cling to him has your nails digging into his flesh. He groans as they do, the sound making you kiss him harder. 

His lips trail down from yours to neck, giving ample attention to every spot he tugs into his mouth. One of his hands drag down your naval, fingers exploring new territory until they find your slick folds—plunging into flesh as something between a gasp and moan escapes you.

You’ve never been intimate before, and you’ve always wondered if it felt like possession. An invasive, vulnerable thing. But this—the way his fingers pump in and out—is like being unwound. Every stress and pain you’ve ever felt, untangling in the haze of Dean’s touch. 

His eyes find yours, emerald peering through lashes, “you are the only damn thing heaven could ever get me to worship.” He whispers and it sends a shiver through you, the pressure of his thumb against your clit making you shudder beneath him. 

“That,” you mumble through shaky breaths, “would be blasphemy.” 

His stubble grazes you as you feel every note of his chuckle vibrate against your skin. His lips trail kisses down your body with a deliberate slowness. His fingers don’t cease, working you with ease as he sinks lower. 

You grasp for anything—the sheets in one hand, tuffs of his hair in another. He positions himself between your legs, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your inner thing. Your body takes over, whimpering and rocking into him as he pulls the skin between his teeth. Retracting, a red love bite in his wake as hovers over your heat. 

You glance down, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern. It’s like fighting, the way your entire body is alive with an instinctual awareness of each part of you. But there is no anticipation of pain, no need to swing first. It’s a tantalizing resolve, a desperate desire to succumb to whatever feeling Dean might insight next.

He exchanges his hand for his mouth, your legs clinging to either side of his head on instinct. It’s a rippling wave of passion that flows through. His hands dig into your thighs, grounding him as his mouth moves at an intoxicating pace. 

You’ve never heard yourself make the sounds that leave your mouth now, damn near animalistic as you let go of control. Breath hitching each time he sucked sensitive skin between his lips, releasing and reattaching at a dizzying pace. 

“Dean,” you stutter through a shudder, trying to wrap hazy thinking around the sensation building within your core that’s making your back arch, instinct telling you to push into Dean. A tight notch of unused muscles is binding beneath his mouth, like all the tension he relieved is back—balling into your core. You’re squirming for a release as he quickens his lapping and sucking. 

All at once—your vision blurs, body tightening as his fingers plunge inside of you again, the medley of pleasure surging into you with force. The notch unravels, waves of tension releasing in hot ripples throughout your entire body. 

You’re humming through quieted whimpers as your body goes limp, Dean pulls away slowly—leaving little kisses all over sensitive skin. He runs his hands over your body, soothing the little shudders that remain of you. 

He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, his touch featherlight as he presses tender kisses to your temples and cheeks. “We can stop here,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, his gaze searching yours as he hovers over you. “You’re in control here, angel.”

The sincerity in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, a warmth settling in your chest. But his words tug at something deeper, something raw. Control—a concept you’ve only ever understood as an illusion. An angel, a weapon, a tool of Heaven—control was never yours to wield, not even over yourself. 

Your fingers glide over his lips, tracing the shape of the words he’s yet to say. “If I’m in control,” you whisper, your voice soft but resolute. “I want you to let me feel everything, Dean.”

He lets go of the breath he was holding, lips crashing into yours—a kiss to seal his promise. Your hands card into his hair as he fumbles with the rest of his clothes. The air that invades the space he leaves is cold and empty, but he returns to your skin swiftly, his hips claiming the space between yours. 

He adjusts himself, and you inhale sharply at the pressing of his tip against your entrance. 

“Hey,” he whispers, the steadiness of his voice melting any bits of nerves that peak through as he catches your gaze. “‘s all be okay, I promise. Just keep your eyes on mine.” 

His gaze is soft and gentle as he eases himself inside your walls. Heat prickles on your skin, making you gasp at the feel of your body stretching around him. He dips his head, catching your lips in his as he sinks deeper. You’re gasping against his mouth, the sound meshing with his quiet groans as his hips rock against yours. 

There’s a soreness in the sensation, tension giving out with each thrust. Your hips squirm beneath him, instinctively bucking into his movements, “You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he sighs, voice raspy, sending a shiver through you. 

“More, I can take more,” you whisper, the words leaving your mouth without a second thought. All you can feel is a need for all of him—deeper.

He follows your command, his pace quickening enough to make your legs lock around him. His arm slides beneath you, a protective hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he holds your frame closer to his.

Your senses are overwhelmed by his scent—the endorphins pooling off of him and making you feel drunk on the smell. 

In one swift motion, he pulls you up with him, arms wrapped around you in a heated embrace as you roll your hips against his—chasing the pleasure of his length knocking into the sensitive spot inside you. 

His lips chase yours, a deep slow kiss that makes your hips move more desperately. Little whimpers leave your lips between each kiss, making his wandering hands dig into your skin with a desire to touch every part of you. 

“Just like that—fuck,” he groans against your skin, his hands guiding your hips against his. Your arms cling to him as he lowers you back onto the pillows, his claim on your skin intensifying as his thrust becomes more greedy, needy as he takes control again. 

His hands run along your frame, inching towards your breasts until your nipples are beneath his circling fingers. It makes your breath hitch, and that notch of tension forms within your core again. Your bucking his and nails digging into Dean’s skin are like an unspoken demand, and follows the cues you’re unaware of by sliding a hand down to your joined bodies. 

His fingers work dizzying circles between your folds, your breathing falling uneven against his. Your muscles go tense again, tightening with each thrust of his tip against sore, sensitive flesh. 

Tears prickle at your lashes as you cry out his name, losing yourself in the tidal wave of relief that flows through—leaving your body shuddering beneath his. 

Your name leaves his lips, a quiet mantra, just as it did when he lifted his head in your prayer. His warm release threads inside you, coating your walls. 

His hips stutter, falling into a lazy rhythm until he’s still. Breathing heavy against you, holding you in his arms for a moment as you both come down from the moment. 

Sowly, he pulls away, shifting to lay beside you. Your mind is a complete sleepy haze, another new feeling for an angel who has never known exhaustion to the point of needing sleep. It’s a sweet, comforting thing—to want to close your eyes and give in. 

Dean shifts, adjusting your body until you’re snug against his chest beneath the covers. His arms wrap around you, firm and protective, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in his world. Being surrounded by his warmth, his quiet strength, feels like a peace you never believed could exist—a haven you’re not sure you could ever let go of.

As your eyes grow heavy, his lips brush your ear, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet. “Sleep, angel. I’ve got you.”

speak for yourself - imogen heap album was on repeat while writing this btw. also i got lazy after dean's munch moment and did nawt re-read or edit the rest so i apologize <3 but i hope this was fun idk i kinda hate it now to be frank i d k ugh bye ily

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 01

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 001. 002. 003.

ONE ; i'm there, you're there, everybody's there.

THE DREADED MIDSUMMERS.

you always hated the annual celebration. to you, it's a maddening mix of triviality and discomfort, a tradition that felt more like a chore than a festivity. sure, there were fleeting moments of fun, but they were rare, overshadowed by the unbearable awkwardness that always seemed to define the event for you.

every year, you found yourself trapped in the same suffocating routine; forced smiles, polite small talk, and the endless chatter of people pretending they cared about each other more than they actually did. it wasn't that you hated people, well not all of them, but the sheer superficiality of it all made your skin crawl. and yet, despite your disdain, you still show up. but only at your parent's request, year after year, like clockwork. 

this year was no different, though you had to admit it wasn't entirely terrible. you stood at the drinks bar with your best friend, cora, both of you stifling laughter as you subtly chucked back glasses of champagne. cora had a knack for making the unbearable tolerable, reason being why she's your best friend. only friend. the way she mimicked the exaggerated niceties of the other guests and never faltered from your side not only at kook events but also any other day of the week proved her to be the only person worth hanging out with. 

but even as you enjoy messing around with cora, your gaze kept drifting across the grass to your older brother, carter, and his best friend, rafe. the two of them were already several drinks in, their loud obnoxious laughter carrying over the murmurs of polite conversation. rafe, in particular, was teetering dangerously close to the edge of decorum, gesturing wildly with a mostly-empty beer bottle as carter egged him on with his laughter. 

"they're going to embarrass themselves before the sun's even down," you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the two of them. 

cora followed your gaze and snorted, "oh absolutely. rafe's probably one cocky remark away from falling face-first into a table." 

you rolled your eyes. "i wouldn't even stop him." 

"i know you secretly love seeing him make a fool out of himself."

"i really don't." you said, though your lips twitched at the thought of rafe actually toppling into the table of bucketed beers behind him. it wouldn't be the first time he'd turned a formal gathering into a spectacle. 

cora gave her a knowing smirk, "yeah, okay"

you took a long sip of her drink, still watching carter and rafe with growing annoyance. they were now talking far too loudly and swaying just enough to make their intoxication obvious. rafe had ditched his blazer and was gesturing animatedly, spilling a few drops of beer onto the grass as carter doubled over in laughter. 

"okay, this is officially getting out of hand," you pointed out, setting your empty glass down. 

cora raised an eyebrow, "what, worried your legendary football player brother is gonna make a fool of himself now? or just can't stand the sight of rafe being... well, rafe?" 

"both," you snapped, beginning to trudge over to them, your heels periodically sinking into the grass and dirt. "come on, let's get them inside before they draw anymore attention to themselves." 

cora followed along with a sigh, "fine, but if carter pukes on me, you're cleaning it up." 

you weaved through the mingling guests, your tipsiness making the task slightly more challenging that it should've been. unlike carter and rafe, though, you hadn't had enough to make yourselves look like idiots, and you could hold your own. when you reached the boys, you immediately folded your arms in front of them. 

you grabbed a beer bottle out of carter's hand and set it down with a loud clink, "both of you, inside. now." 

rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk lazy and insolent. "excuse me? who made you the party police?"

"you've been drunk for an hour, and the sun's not even set yet," you snapped, turning to carter. "and you're letting him make an ass of himself, and by extension, yourself. you two need water, get inside." 

carter sighed, "okay okay fine. cmon rafe."

you didn't wait for the taller boy to agree, spinning on your heel and marching toward the country club doors. carter followed, muttering something under his breath while rafe trailed behind, his stifling a laugh sending a fresh wave of irritation through you. 

once inside, the quiet of the club was a welcome relief from the chaotic hum of the event. you turned on your heel, arms crossed, as the boys finally stopped in front of you.

"you're unbelievable," Rafe scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "dragging us in here like we're children who need a time-out. you just love playing the hero, don't you?"

you narrowed your eyes. "and you just love being a reckless asshole who can't handle midsummers without turning it into a scene. you do this every time rafe, aren't you tired of being a fuckup?"

"woow," rafe said, his smirk widening. "you really are as uptight as you look."

"oh, i'm sorry. did i interrupt your drunken performance? please, go back out there and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. i'm sure ward would love that."

before Rafe could retort, carter stepped between you two, raising his hands in surrender. "okay, enough. del, we'll cool it. no more drinking for a while, all right?"

you shot rafe one last glare before nodding. "good.." rafe turned away and chuckled darkly.

you ignored him, turning on your heel. cora, who had followed silently up until now, rolled her eyes at the boys with a grin.

as the two of you then stepped into the cool evening air, you exhaled sharply.

"well, that was fun," cora said, her voice light with amusement. "you and rafe really know how to liven up a room."

you rolled her eyes. "he's insufferable."

"and you're so not affected by it," cora teased, earning a glare.

you two rejoined the party, you were determined to salvage what was left of the night, even if rafe's smug grin lingered annoyingly in the back of her mind.

the crowd had thinned out hours ago, leaving only the stragglers and the hum of distant music. you sat on a worn wooden bench tucked away in the shadows, the cool night air nipping at your bare shoulders and open backed dress. your drink was empty, but you still held the glass in your lap, staring out at the faint glow over the remaining guests, though their laughter and chatter had dulled into a murmur. 

you exhaled slowly letting the faint buzz in your head settle as you leaned back, glossy eyes staring up at the twinkling stars. it was quiet, peaceful even, until a familiar voice broke through your disheveled thoughts. 

"wow, look at you. little miss perfect all alone. didn't think you'd let yourself get drunk enough to sit alone here sulking." 

you rolled her eyes, tilting your head to see rafe cameron stumbling toward you, a crooked grin on his face and an empty bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. his shirt was untucked, his tie was undone and his usually greasy bangs were messier than usual, falling over his eyes. 

"don't you have my brother to annoy?" you mumbled through gritted teeth, sitting up straighter. 

"not anymore," he said, slumping onto the bench beside you, far too close for comfort, not that he could notice that this was probably the closest in proximity you'd been in a long time. he smelled like whiskey and faintly of smoke, though you didn't remember anyone smoking at the party. "everyone's gone home. except you, apparently. what's wrong? finally too perfect for anyone else?" 

you rolled her eyes again. "you're drunk." 

"and you're not?" he gestured vaguely at your empty glass. "don't think i didn't see you sneaking more of those vodka sodas earlier." 

you sighed, turning to glare into his baby blues, "what do you want rafe." 

he looked away and shrugged, his grin softening slightly as he stared out at the glowing lights in the distance. "i dunno, a ride maybe? or maybe i jus' wanted to see if you're as miserable as you looked all night." 

"you're impossible," you said, standing up abruptly. "fine. where's ward and rose?" 

he blinked at you, his smirk faltering. "gone, they left a while ago."

you blinked at him, suddenly aware of how late it had gotten. the faint music from the dance floor was slower now, the kind that signalled the end of the night. most of the decorative lanterns had burned low, leaving along shadows stretching across the grass. 

"of course they're gone." you muttered, grabbing your keys from out of your clutch. "let's go. i'm not being the reason you stumble around here all night just to get detained for trespassing or something equally stupid." 

rafe grinned lazily as he pushed himself to his feet. "always the hero."

"always the idiot." you shot back sternly, marching toward the parking lot with him trailing behind you.

the drive to tannyhill was wordless, other than for the low hum of the engine and rafe's occasional muttered remarks, which you ignored by turning on some low music. when you pulled up to the sprawling estate, you didn't bother to say anything, simply unlocking the doors and waiting.

rafe gave you a drunk, crooked smile as he climbed out, leaning down slightly to peer at her through the open window. "you're not as boring as you think you are, you know."

"go to bed, rafe," you said flatly, ignoring the slight heat rising to your cheeks.

he laughed, a low, rumbling sound, before stumbling up the path to the front door. you waited just long enough to see him disappear inside before driving off.

the trip back to your house was dark and mostly quiet, the empty streets a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the party. as you gripped the steering wheel, your mind wandered back to rafe.

you hated him. you reminded herself of that firmly, repeating the thought like a mantra. you hated his smug grin, his reckless behaviour, the way he seemed to get away with everything. he was destructive, cold, and violent when he wanted to be, the kind of person who left chaos in his wake.

and yet, you couldn't shake the thought of him sitting beside you on that bench, quieter than usual, something almost vulnerable lurking beneath his usual bravado. it was infuriating. the way he intrigued you, despite everything you knew about him, everything you disliked about him, made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

by the time you pulled into the driveway, you'd convinced yourself it didn't matter. rafe cameron was a mess, a storm you had no intention of stepping into. you hated him. you had to. anything else would be far too dangerous.

the house was dark and silent when you slipped inside, the huge wooden front door creaking softly as you closed it behind you. you kicked off your shoes in the entryway, your heels clattering against the tile, and winced. with careful steps, you crept through the dimply lit hall and up the stairs, grateful your parents were likely fast asleep.

your room was as you'd left it, a little messy from getting ready but mostly untouched, with soft orange light from her salt-lamp spilling across the room. you flicked on another lamp on your dresser, letting out a long breath as you began unzipping your dress. the fabric pooled at your feet, and you exchanged it for a worn, oversized t-shirt before heading to the bathroom to wash your face. 

as you brushed your teeth, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to rafe. he'd probably stumbled through the doors of tannyhill, loud and unapologetic, before collapsing onto some couch... or, if he made it that far, into his bed. you imagined him leaving his shoes kicked off in random corners, his tie flung somewhere on the floor, with no regard for the mess he made.

but then another image crept in, one you hadn't meant to summon. you thought of the times you'd caught ward speaking to rafe in clipped, cutting tones when he thought no one was paying attention. you remembered the hard set of ward's jaw, the way his voice was sharp enough to cut, even if you couldn't make out the words. and you remembered the way rafe would stand there, his usual bravado stripped away, his fists clenched at his sides like he was fighting the urge to hit something - or someone.

a faint pang of guilt surfaced as you rinsed her mouth and dried your hands. it wasn't as though rafe didn't deserve to get told off every now and then, he brought most of it on himself, after all. he was reckless and selfish, always chasing parties and cheap thrills, always pushing buttons and crossing lines. responsibility wasn't even in his vocabulary, and it was hard to pity someone who so often seemed to invite their own problems.

still, as you climbed into bed, the thought lingered. beneath all the arrogance and chaos, there was something deeply broken about rafe cameron. you didn't want to feel bad for him - not really. but sometimes, you couldn't help it.

you pulled the cover up over your shoulders and shut your eyes, determined to push the thought away. it didn't matter how ward talked to him or how messy his life might be. rafe had made his choices, and you were determined to keep hating him. anything less would be dangerous. anything more would be impossible.

or so you told herself, as your mind drifted and sleep slowly crept in.

notes ; THANK YOU FOR READINGG.. im so excited to post this. wattpad is so dead so this fic has just been sitting there rotting. anyway leave me feedback please !! ps i promise you're less of a pushover, this is just a one off to annoy rafe lol.

taglist ;  @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush ( lachesism taglist )

[woozinhos]

can i request vernon and reader just having fun (ykwim?) and being loud enough for the members to hear and then have to endure loads of teasing the next day??

Vernon and you are tangled up in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat and desire. You're both completely lost in the moment, completely unaware of the noise you're making. You're moaning and gasping, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the room. Vernon is just as vocal, his deep groans mixing with your moans as he drives into you over and over again. Meanwhile, the other members of the group are gathered in the living room, trying to watch a movie. They're doing their best to ignore the noise coming from your room, but it's impossible to ignore the sound of your passionate lovemaking.

Mingyu sighs and turns up the volume on the TV, hoping to drown out the noise. "They're so loud," he mutters. "It's like they want us to hear them."

Vernon picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a newfound urgency. He's not holding back anymore, his thrusts becoming more forceful and powerful. You're completely lost in the pleasure, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. You don't care if the others can hear you anymore, all you care about is the way Vernon is making you feel.

The sound of your moans and groans is growing louder, filling the room and echoing through the walls. Vernon grins as he hears the other members' complaints, knowing that they're all jealous of what he's doing to you. Your moans grow louder and louder, your body writhing beneath Vernon's. He can feel your muscles clenching around him, and he knows that you're close to coming again.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice low and sultry. "You're so loud, baby. They can probably hear you all the way in the living room."

Vernon grins as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He knows he's pushing your limits, but he can't help himself. He loves seeing you like this, completely lost in the moment and uninhibited. He reaches down to rub your clit, his fingers working in tandem with his thrusts. He can feel your body tensing up, your moans becoming more and more frantic.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "Let go for me. Let them all hear you."

You reach up and grab a handful of Vernon's hair, tugging on it roughly. The pain mixes with the pleasure, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. He groans, his hips stuttering for a moment before he regains his rhythm. He loves it when you get rough with him, and he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, his voice rough with desire. "You're so feisty tonight."

Vernon is usually a quiet lover, preferring to show his affection through his actions rather than words. But today, something has shifted. He's never been this vocal during sex before, and it's turning you on even more. His moans and groans are driving you wild, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

"You feel so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. "I could do this all night."

Vernon's voice is rough and gravelly, his moans becoming more desperate as he nears his release. He's usually so in control, but right now, he's completely lost in the pleasure.

"I'm so close," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips. "You're gonna make me come so hard, baby."

He buries his face in your neck, his lips trailing kisses along your skin. He's murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, his words a mixture of praise and desperation. You manage to find your voice, your words coming out in between gasps and moans. "You're so good, Vernon," you pant, your fingers tangled in his hair. "You're driving me crazy."

Vernon groans at your words, his body tensing up as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He's never heard you talk like this before, and it's driving him wild.

"Keep talking," he growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Tell me how much you love it."

You can feel your own release building inside of you, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

"I love it," you gasp, your voice filled with desperation. "I love the way you make me feel. I love the way you take control and make me yours."

Vernon groans, his eyes locked on yours. He's hanging on by a thread now, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Say my name," he commands, his voice rough and commanding. "Say my name when you come."

"Vernon," you cry out, your body arching up as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You come hard, your muscles clenching around him as pleasure washes over you.

Vernon follows soon after, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He buries himself deep inside of you, his body shuddering as he spills his seed inside of you. He collapses on top of you, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

"Holy shit," he gasps, nuzzling your neck.

You lie there in each other's arms, your bodies still intertwined. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can feel your heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

Vernon presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "I don't think I've ever come that hard before," he murmurs, a hint of awe in his voice. You laugh softly, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Me neither," you admit, a contented smile on your face. "That was definitely something."

Vernon snuggles closer to you, burying his face in your neck. He lets out a contented sigh, his body relaxed and sated.

"I could stay like this forever," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You smile, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. "Me too," you say softly. "You always know how to make me feel so good."

You and Vernon fall asleep in each other's arms, completely spent from your intense lovemaking. The room is quiet, save for the sound of your soft breathing. The next morning, you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on the door. You blink sleepily, disoriented and confused for a moment.

"Hey, lovebirds," Seungcheol's voice calls out from the other side of the door. "You guys up yet?"

You groan and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Vernon stirs beside you, slowly waking up as well.

"Yeah, we're up," you call out, your voice still rough from sleep.

Seungcheol opens the door and peeks his head inside, a smirk on his face. "About time," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "You guys were pretty loud last night, you know."

Vernon groans and buries his face in the pillow, clearly embarrassed. "Shut up," he mumbles, his voice muffled.

You feel your cheeks flush with heat as you realize what Seungcheol is implying. "We didn't know we were being that loud," you say defensively, trying to ignore the mortification you feel. Seungcheol steps aside as Mingyu and Wonwoo enter the room, both of them wearing identical grins.

"We heard you guys having fun last night," Mingyu teases, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "You were pretty vocal."

Wonwoo nods in agreement, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, we thought you were going to wake up the whole building."

Mingyu and Wonwoo both start making exaggerated moaning sounds, imitating the noises you and Vernon made the night before.

"Oh, Vernon, yes!" Mingyu cries out in a high-pitched voice, flopping dramatically onto the bed.

Wonwoo snickers and joins in, making exaggerated grunting noises. "You like that, baby? You like it when I take control?"

Vernon groans and buries his face deeper into the pillow, clearly mortified. You can't help but laugh at the ridiculous display, even as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Mingyu and Wonwoo dissolve into giggles, clutching their stomachs as they laugh hysterically. They're clearly enjoying themselves, taking every opportunity to tease you and Vernon about your loud night. Seungcheol just stands in the doorway, shaking his head in amusement. "You guys are ridiculous," he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

[valalice]

ﾒ taking the best naps in chloe's bed.

cw. fluff. fem!reader. established relationship. chloe is a tease. barely suggestive towards the end. not proofread.

the bed dips as chloe sits on the edge, the palm of her rubbing steady circles on your back. she thought the sensation would cause you to slip further into dreamland, but her warm palm on your clothed skin startled you awake.

eyes fluttering open, you think the blue haired girl in front of you to be apart of your dream, the silhouette of her figure blurred—wait, you don't remember falling asleep—are you even dreaming right now?—the blunt ends of chloe's nails rake along the length of your back, sending blots of shivers down your spine; you've got to be dreaming right now, or you've somehow passed and made it to heaven, because of course the perfect heaven is chloe price scratching your back.

"wakey wakey, sleepyhead." chloe teases, her voice hushed. almost as if she didn't want to shatter the hazy space you're in.

groaning you push your head further into your (chloe's) pillow. losing the battle and letting your eyes shut once more. "'m not sleeping." your words borderline incoherent with your face smushed into the pillow. chloe chuckles, feeling the bed dip further as chloe leans down closer to your face.

"didn't catch that." even with your eyes closed you can hear the smirk that's plastered on her face right now, her fingers now ghosting over your back, but pulls them back when she feels you shifting.

with a huff you push yourself off the pillow, not bothering to open your eyes. "i'm not sleeping." you reiterate, before flopping back down onto the plush cushion, getting comfortable once again.

chloe hums, "you sure about that? because whatever you were doing for the past few hours looked a lot like sleeping."

"i was resting my eyes." you answered matter-of-factly. when truthfully you don't remember falling asleep. you remember chloe picking you up to hang out, you remember the jingle of keys opening the door, the short stamped up the stairs, and laying on her bed, then everything just blanks. but, you cannot be blamed, ever since you've known chloe her bed has had some tight grip on you sending you straight to sleep; it's troubling whenever you want to spend any kind of time with chloe in her room and the moment she turns away from you, your body is limp as your consciousness drifts off to sleep; much like today.

"right, because sleeping and resting you eyes are completely two different things."

you're sick of your asshat of a girlfriend at this point, so you flip your body on to your back, making sure to huff to make your annoyance known; but not flipping over to lay on your other side because you're not that annoyed just yet. your actions cause chloe to fully shift into bed next to you on her side, propping her head on her hand as she stares at your "resting" figure. a nimble fingers coming to trace along the indents on your face caused from the pillow, the corner of her lips twitching upward; she wants to tease you for it, for sleeping so well in her bed, but she lets the warm content pool fill in her stomach that you feel safe enough with her to sleep this well in her bed.

a beat passes, and chloe's fingertips stay tracing along your features with a featherlight touch; around the perimeter of your face, over your eyebrows, down to your eyes and under them to swish pass your eyelashes and trace circles around your cheeks, up your nose and down its bridge, and to your lips where she payed extra attention to the shape of them, she knew them well. and she wanted to kiss them, kiss you, but decided against it, for now.

chloe's hand settles on your stomach. you don't know what compels you to flip into your original position, her warm hand following your shifts to lay on the small of your back, pushing your body closer to hers. you finally, and fully open your eyes, meeting chloe's, the blueness of her eyes still striking yet soft, like a watercolor painting. the hand on your back keeps pulling as close as humanly possible till your legs are intertwined.

you don't bother to prop your head on your hand like chloe, much preferring the comfort of your head against the pillow and not the potential ache of your wrist. "how long was i out for?" voice quiet and laced with a twinge of embarrassment, whisper like and preserved only for chloe to hear.

she twist her lips up, looking up towards the ceiling for a moment before her gaze settles back on you. "for a couple hours. it's gonna get dark soon, so if you still want to go out somewhere we can leave now." the hand on your back has now found its way beneath your shirt, the fabric bunched up just a bit to expose some of your stomach and the glimpse of chloe's hand and wrist, her thumb smoothing at your waist.

now it's your turn to momentarily think, embarrassment rushing back through your veins. embarrassed because you've lost the imaginary battle with chloe's bed, again, and embarrassed that also spoiled the plans the two of you had. "do you still want to do go out?" making her question whether you wanted to still do the activities planned up to her, it's only fair in your head. although, you know she doesn't care either way.

the soft glow of the sun setting illuminates chloe's features. and it's at this time that you realize her signature beanie doesn't reside on top of her head, you take this win and reach up to comb through her short locks with your fingers, pushing hair behind her head and her side band out of her face; she hates when you do it, but she doesn't do much to retaliate besides the spew of words she'd say, your just like to see her more, all of her. "not really," now it's her turn to be lulled, being tempted by the mistress of sleep. her eyes fluttering shut, savoring your touch, eyebrows knitting together, her face strained yet still calm; she remembers, engraves even, the feeling of your touch, your skin on hers, you, into her mind, just incase you slip through her fingers like liquid and all she has is the vibrant memories of you. "i picked up that movie you wanted to see. we could watch it?"

your lips curl into a smile. only chloe could make you annoyed one moment then the next make you want to smoother her in kisses. "that sounds nice." you agree, taking a piece of her hair and twirling it around your index finger. the blue suits her well, a little too well, but your mind often drifts to if scenarios of chloe's hair; if she decides to let her hair grow out ever again, if she lets the blue fade and eventually chop it off, if she randomly gets bored of it and decides to bleach and dye it another color. you don't care what she does her hair, you know she'll look hot with anything, you just hope you're there to see the changes.

in a swift movement chloe grasp onto your wrist, freeing the hair wrapped around your finger as she tugs slightly at you, she wants you up just as she is. and with a huff you prop yourself up on your arm angled behind your back, face to face with chloe. her hand drags down from your wrist to just above your elbow, pulling you close again till the tips of your noses meet. only then does open her eyes. "promise you won't fall asleep."

you groan, rolling your eyes. "i don't chose to fall asleep. the bed, your bed, it casts some kind of sleep spell on me." you argue with sincerity. chloe doesn't buy it, her eyes squinting and an eyebrow shooting up; she's not convinced.

this time she doesn't pull you into her. but instead she uses the grasp still on your arm to push it into the mattress, giving her enough leverage to slot a knee between your legs and hover above you, leaning down. "then i guess you better fight it off, 'cause the next time you fall asleep i'm waking you up with tickles." you bite back your growing smile and the bark of a smart remark that you'd much prefer to woken up another way.

[kaliforniahigh]

Now, here is the filthy smut I promised you guys:

Noah loves when you're an obedient girl, but he loves even more when you act like a brat.

Warnings: Noah is a little mean, face-slapping (Noah on reader, if that makes you uncomfy, don't read!), unprotected p in v.

You were laying on the bed, sprawled out under Noah, as he hovered above you. It feels like you've been waiting for eternity for him to slip inside of you, and he was so close, you could feel his tip hitting your entrance. You extended your hand to grab his shaft with your delicate fingers, but he stopped you.

"No touching", his voice was rough and demanding, and you could tell he wasn't playing around with you. "Hold your legs open for me", he instructed, and both of your hands went to your kness, grasping where your legs were folded on your chest, holding them further apart for him.

"If you're a good girl for me, I'll give you what you want", he murmured, voice low and raspy, as he lazily stroked himself up and down. He was looking down at you from his position, eyes half lidded and a little teasing smirk playing on his lips. He knew you were growing frustrated, but he wanted to test your limits first.

His remark made you want to whine out loud, because you've been a good girl, you've been good for so long now, and it felt like he was taking forever to reward you. Instead, you did something that you knew would piss him off, just so he could feel a sliver of the annoyance you were feeling right now.

You rolled you eyes at him.

His reaction was instant, his eyes darkening and eyebrows furrowing, as if he couldn't belive you just did that. In seconds, his large palm made contact with your cheek. He didn't hit you too hard, but it was enough for a slap to resonate around the room.

He gripped your chin hard in his hand, bending down to look you in the eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?", he asked through gritted teeth, but you could see a wicked smile wanting to break through his stern expression.

By this point, you could feel yourself dripping on the mattres below you. Your pussy clenching around nothing with how aroused and horny you were.

"Are you gonna be good? Are you done playing with me?", he inquired and you nodded.

"Yes", you whined, the words falling from your lips in a silent breath.

"Yes, who?", he shook your head in his grip, as if he wanted you to come to your senses.

"Yes, Noah. I'll be good"

"Good. Then hold your legs like I fucking told you to", he released your chin and you did as you were told.

Soon, you felt his tip make contact with your hole, pushing in slowly, and you felt him sliding in, inch by inch. You wanted to close your eyes and revel in the feeling of finally being filled, but you couldn't look away from his expression.

"You're always so fucking tight", he breathed out, mouth hanging open from the pleasure he felt every time you squeezed around him.

You were so wet and slick for him, that he almost forgot your disobedience from earlier. Almost.

When he was all the way him, his pelvis touching yours, his hand left his side and landed on your cheek once again. You moaned out loud from the feeling, and the way he was asserting his dominance over you in this moment.

You loved it when he got like this.

"Don't you ever fucking roll your eyes at me again, you hear me?", he was now pressing you on the mattres with his whole upper body. The feeling of his weight on you, and his refusal to move was slowly making your head spin.

"Yes, yes", you answered, tears of frustration gathering on your waterline.

"Don't gotta cry, babygirl. I told you I'll give you what you want", his hips started to move back and forth, as he captured your lips in a hungry kiss.

"Feels so good", you mewled out, and he stroked you reddened cheek with his thumb, giving you little kisses to soothe the stinging feeling that was now completely forgotten by you.

Tag List: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @montgomery-929496 @stardustsirenmelody @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @w0manof-flesh44 @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @turn-your-life-into-folklore @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @haehihello @anameunmusical @blade-dressed-in-red @jilliemiw86 @vinyardmauro @ohheykayyyxo @chey-h @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens

If you haven't been added, it's because you don't have your age mentioned on your blog!

[concretejunglefm]

Wonderland.

Summary: You wanted so badly to be in the studio with Noah while he's working but couldn't keep quiet when he asked you to. You obviously wanted to be part of the song you were being so loud, well now here you go.

CW: smut including fingering (f receiving), praising, use of a toy (bullet), illusions towards exhibitionism, overstimulation and multiple orgasms.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

AN: this is a series in collaboration with @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard which the masterlist of can be found here.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @blade-dressed-in-red @deathblacksmoke @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @lacy1986lacy1986 @ichoosetenderomens (lmk if you'd like to be tagged)

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

"Can we get another take for that part, Jol?" Noah asks, leaning away from the mic before coming closer as the music starts.

You're sitting beside Matt on the couch Noah has in the studio, watching in awe as he does his thing. It's a talent you find yourself constantly captivated by, but as you hear Matt utter a comment in your ear, you can't help but let out a giggle, quickly holding your hand up to your mouth and covering it as Noah comes to a stop again, clearing his throat with an obvious disgruntled sound.

"Sorry." You wince and press your lips together in another attempt not to laugh as Matt stifles his own.

"I said that you could be in here so long as you were quiet and you." He fixes Matt with a glare. "Should know better."

Matt raises his hands in mock surrender while you lift your own, bringing two fingers against the side of your head in a playful salute. "Yes, boss." It led both you and Matt into laughing once more, and with a sigh, Noah steps back from the mic.

“Alright, we'll wrap it up for today." Noah declares to Jolly, joining him in checking over the saved files before ushering him out of the room, followed by Matt.

"What? Come on, baby. I said I was sorry. I promise to be quiet this time." You try to sway his decision, but he's already sending his friends off and leaving you alone in his studio as he says his goodbyes.

It wasn't the first time that you'd made a sound or been told by him to be quiet. You knew how important his music was to him, how focused he became in these moments, and you felt a twinge of guilt that you had caused him to derail those plans for the day.

Getting up from the couch, you look over to Noah as he re-enters the studio, instantly addressing you as you walk towards him.

"Uh, where do you think you're going?"

"I thought you were finished?"

"With them, yes. But I haven't even gotten started with you yet."

It took a moment to process his words before you recognized the flicker of something in his eyes. It wasn't annoyance, at least not anymore; his frustration had pooled with another kind: arousal.

"Oh." The look he gives you alone is enough to make you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the familiar tingle in your stomach at the thought of what's to come as a smirk breaks out across Noah's face.

"Yeah, oh. Now take a seat. We're going to try this again." He gestures you back to the couch, gripping you by your shoulders as he guides you backwards towards it and once dropping down into it, he uses his foot to gently spread apart your legs and grabs the nearby desk chair, pulling towards him and sitting there before rolling himself close to you.

"You understand how important this is, don't you?" He asks, pushing his knees between your legs to prevent you from closing them as he leans forward and lays his hands on your thighs, stroking slowly up along them.

"Of course, baby." You reach out to lay your hands on his arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Your intention hadn't been to disturb him.

"So you'll understand that we have to keep going until we get this take right, won't you?"

"Yes!"

"Good, because I'm going to need your help."

You feel his hands slipping further up your thighs until they're pushing beneath your Bad Omens hoodie that you wear at home out of comfort and warmth, and he's undoing your jeans, quick to tug them down. Any words you were about to say are cut off as he pulls your jeans off and tosses them aside, leaving you in just your panties from the waist down, but they're soon slipped from you too as he grips your legs and spreads them, pushing you further down into the couch so you're fully on display for him.

"Good girl." You hear him utter under your breath, and it makes you gasp as you feel yourself growing wetter from just the soft praise alone.

Noah's fingers idly stroke along your inner thighs while he hums softly, the melody sounding familiar to the one which had been playing during his recording session. "Now, I need you to be good and hold your legs like this for me, okay?"

"O..okay." You nod and follow his gentle guidance as he takes your hands and brings them beneath your thighs, making you keep yourself spread out for him.

When he stands up, he leans down and captures your mouth in a heated kiss, and you can't help the whimper which slips out from you. You easily submit to him like this, whether intentionally or not, you can't help but feel yourself easily and willingly becoming his plaything.

"Such a sweet girl." He whispers against your lips, as his fingers gently hold your chin, and his dark gaze briefly locks onto your own lustful eyes. You can see the heat in them, the want which is coursing through him, and that just makes you want and need him more.

"Noah." You breathe out, and he shushes you before planting a softer, lighter kiss to your lips.

Pulling himself away, he crosses the studio space towards the computer, and you hear a few clicks being carried out before he returns back over to you, carrying over a portable microphone and placing it just on the edge of the couch.

"Now, what do I have planned for you, you ask?" You search his face for a sign of anything, but he's holding his cards close to his chest, even his smirk not giving anything away as he takes a seat back down on the chair opposite you. "You wanted to be loud, baby. You obviously wanted to be part of the song, so here we are."

You offer him a slight confused expression, your brows furrowing while waiting for him to elaborate.

He doesn't.

Instead, he retrieves a familiar bullet vibrator from his pocket and switches it on, rotating through the numerous settings before turning it back off and bringing it towards his mouth to wet it.

Bringing the bullet down towards your inner thigh, he turns it back on and as you feel the vibration against your skin, it travels up and between your thighs, causing you to tremble as you feel the low vibrations spread closer to your pussy with its slow travel along your inner thigh. You can't help the moan that falls from your lips and you watch Noah's expression brighten as he hears you.

"That's my girl." He praises and as he inches higher, the sounds you let free become a little louder. He hasn't even touched you yet, not properly, but the vibration which travels along your thigh and straight towards your clit already has you feeling more worked up. "Now, we'll keep going and you'll keep making those pretty noises until I feel like we've gotten the best take, understand?"

Your eyes widen with the explanation he gives, finally putting together the pieces of an obvious puzzle; telling Matt and Jolly to leave, stripping you halfway down, the microphone and now the bullet.

Right as you go to open your mouth and respond, he meets the bullet against your pussy, feeling the vibration against your folds before he pushes it between and teases it against your clit. All words slip away from your mind, all but one as you begin moaning his name, instinctively raising your hips to meet the bullet.

"Listen to that. Listen to how pretty you sound. This was what you wanted, right? To be loud for me?"

Every word he says coaxes you further as he holds the bullet to your clit, making you tremble in place before he drags it away, teasing down towards your cunt, only to trace back up and tease circles around your clit once more. With his free hand, he strokes along your thigh, gently praising you and guiding you towards the climax he knows is building.

You almost hate how in tune with your body he is because anyone else could fake it, you could easily argue back, but Noah knew every way you sounded or moved when an orgasm was near.

"Are you going to cum for me, pretty girl? Are you going to finally be a good girl for me?"

You hear that bite in ‘finally,' and if your head wasn't being made dizzy by the sensation of his voice, touch, and the bullet alone, you'd have sniped back. You know he does it on purpose, drags you up high just to make his own playful jabs because that's when you lose all senses and have none to snipe back.

"Yes! Noah, yes!" You call out as your moans grow louder and higher, almost losing sound at all as they become caught in your throat with the sudden tremble of your climax. Throwing your head back against the couch, your legs begin to shake, digging your fingers into your thighs as you attempt to hold yourself up for him. The entire time, you can hear him talking you through it, and when the wave of pleasure washes over you, his hand is on your thigh while he pushes the bullet firmly against your aching clit, feeling it throb against the cool plastic while your hips buck as you ride the wave out.

The pleasure is near high, and you're barely down from it before you feel Noah kissing along your jaw and meeting your lips. You reciprocate, though it's half-hearted and sloppy from still in your dazed state, and you practically purr as you hear the offerings of praise being whispered against your lips.

"Such a good girl for me, but I think that we can get a better take than that."

You barely have time to register his words before you feel his fingers sinking into your wet cunt, making you moan even louder as he purposely drags them slowly within you, listening to the sounds you make as he quickens and slows them. You squirm beneath his touch, the added pressure of the bullet against your sensitive clit making you whine, and you can hear the taunt in his tone as he tsk-tsks at you.

Opening your eyes, you meet his gaze, his smirk still plastered fully across his face as he assures you.

"Just one more take, I promise."

Something you hear him repeating again and again for at least five more times as he takes pleasure in dragging you up just to push you over the edge and work you around again, overstimulating you beyond your own comprehension.

[hyuniemyunie]

could you do an imagine about jun-hee (player 222) from squid game x male reader, with the reader being a guard and helping her in the bathroom and then them being hidden together

guard reader helping kim jun hee*ੈ✩‧₊˚

male reader!

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

ᯓ★ The first time the guard, you, bring her food, Jun-hee freezes, unsure if it’s some kind of trap. She’s been conditioned to see the guards as ruthless enforcers, not..allies, especially not to her.

ᯓ★ “Why are you doing this?” she whispers sharply, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to burst in.

ᯓ★ Even after the second or third time, she’s still wary. She eats the food but watches the guard closely, waiting for the moment when he might turn on her.

ᯓ★ She hesitates to speak at first, her guard (no pun intended ahah..sorry.) firmly up. She’s not used to kindness in this place, and it feels too good to be true.

ᯓ★ Over time, she starts to see that the guard’s actions are genuine. You bring her things she needs. water, extra blankets, or even something to ease her pain.

ᯓ★ “Thank you,” she mutters one day, avoiding your gaze. It’s the first time she’s expressed gratitude, and it catches even her by surprise.

ᯓ★ She begins to wonder why you're helping her. Are you just a good person? Do you pity her because she’s pregnant? Or is there something else?

ᯓ★ “You’re risking a lot for me,” she says one day, her voice quiet but firm. “I don’t understand why.”

ᯓ★ For the first time since entering the games, Jun-hee feels a flicker of safety. She knows it’s fleeting, but the small acts of kindness give her hope.

ᯓ★She starts looking forward to the brief moments when you come to check on her, your silent presence a small comfort in an otherwise hostile environment.

ᯓ★ One day, when the you hand her food, she doesn’t just take it silently. Instead, she looks up at you and says, “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Her voice is softer than before, almost grateful. you don’t respond, but your lingering gaze tells her enough.

ᯓ★ As her trust grows, so does her fear for you. She knows how dangerous it is for you to be helping her, and she begins to worry about what might happen if you're caught.

ᯓ★ “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers one day, her hands clutching the food you've brought. “If they find out…” yet you shush her, shaking your head before she could finish her sentence.

ᯓ★ Though you don’t talk much, or at all, Jun-hee starts to notice little things about you. the way you linger a moment longer than necessary, the slight softness in your movements.

ᯓ★ She begins to feel a quiet connection, even though she knows nothing about you—not even your name, or hell, your face.

ᯓ★ She starts paying close attention to your movements. Even though you wear a mask, she notices how your posture softens when you're with her, the way your head tilts slightly when she speaks.

ᯓ★ you, the guard, isn’t used to comforting someone, and his attempts to help her with pain or offer support are clumsy but endearing.

ᯓ★ Once, when she winces from a sharp cramp, he awkwardly hand her a warm cloth. She chuckles softly, despite the pain. “Thanks… I think.”

ᯓ★ you don’t talk much, but Jun-hee begins to feel like you understand her struggles in a way no one else does.

ᯓ★ Sometimes, they’ll sit in silence for a few moments before you leave, and she finds the quiet companionship strangely comforting.

ᯓ★ The guard starts bringing her little things beyond just food—extra socks, a scrap of fabric to use as a makeshift pillow, even a tiny trinket he found somewhere.

ᯓ★ She holds onto these items like lifelines, each one a reminder that someone cares about her and her baby’s survival, unlike the actual father of it.

ᯓ★ One day, the guard brings her something unexpected—an extra ration of fruit, the first fresh food she’s had in weeks. She laughs softly, the sound surprising even herself. “You’re full of surprises,” she says, her smile genuine for the first time since entering the games.

ᯓ★ Despite her initial reluctance, Jun-hee starts to depend on the guard’s visits. His small acts of kindness become the only thing keeping her grounded in this death game.

ᯓ★ Jun-hee knows she can’t fully trust anyone in the games, but the guard comes closer than anyone else ever has, comes closer to a father her baby never had.

[graveyardhorror]

RHEA RIPLEY celebrity reader! headcanons

TERROR TWINS MASTERLIST ★ WATTPAD LINK★

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

-being a celebrity just like her would definitely make things easier with posting about your relationship; it couple vibes

-you both don’t have to worry about your identity being leaked or anyone making information public that wouldn’t be if you weren’t already a celebrity

-paparazzi will always be trying to capture some candid and romantic moments between you two at dates, that instead result in some relationship goal worthy pictures of you two flipping them off

-being a celebrity means that you have fans that over analyze and make edits of anything you do; your fans definitely figured out you were dating rhea before anything was ever confirmed by you two online

-rhea treats her social media like a fan account for you, whenever you are a part of something new (movie, show, music video, ad, etc.) she’s posting about it and bragging how she got you first and you're hers

-with how popular your relationship becomes you two will eventually have a photoshoot together, maybe even be in a commercial too; rhea is cheeky and not usually shy, she’ll try to make you blush the whole time by being touchy and saying sweet nothings in your ear when you’re close enough

-you two are truly a show stopping, crowd favorite couple; showing support for your girl by attending her shows, sitting front row, eagerly awaiting her entrance, the cameramen are biased with how much they put you on the big screen, rhea dedicates her easy win to you (her lucky charm <3)

-massaging each other after particularly long work days, spending the night and early mornings wrapped in each others arms, nothing else in the world matters when you’re together like this; quiet date nights where there's no fans or cameras flashing and filming your every move

-being each other's biggest fans, reposting edits and fanart of each other on your instagram stories, having fans ask you questions about each other that just make them love your relationship even more; referring to rhea as 'mami' when talking about her

-finding comfort in each other's embrace, knowing that you can count on each other for anything because you both know what it's like to be in the public eye; her nicknaming you 'angel' because you bring so much light and positivity into her life

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

[rinsthighsweat]

Can ya do the 'protecting you from creepy guys' or the SCARY DOG PREVILAGE Senarios with Rin, Karasu, Barou and Nagi!!! Pwease🥹🥹 tysm!!

Heyaa!!! That's a cute scenario, I loved that idea of yours!! Thanks for your request, I hope you like it!! I also wanted to add Reo, I hope you don't mind it!

They protect you as a scary dog

Rin, Karasu, Barou, Nagi and Reo | masterlist

۶ৎ Rin Itoshi

Rin doesn’t even need to say anything, his cold stare is enough to make anyone rethink their choices.

The moment he senses a guy getting too close or making you uncomfortable, his expression darkens, and his sharp eyes lock onto the offender.

If the creep doesn’t back off immediately, Rin steps in without hesitation, placing himself between you and the other person. His body language screams hostility, and he’s not afraid to escalate with biting words if necessary.

“Is there a reason you're standing there? Leave. Now.” His tone is icy, devoid of patience.

Rin isn’t overly affectionate, but his protectiveness is instinctual. Even if he doesn’t vocalize it, his actions make it clear: no one messes with you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Tabito Karasu

Karasu handles these situations with a mix of intimidation and sharp wit. He’s not only physically imposing but also quick on his feet with verbal comebacks.

The moment he notices someone being creepy toward you, Karasu’s lips curl into a mocking smile, but his eyes are anything but friendly.

He’ll casually drape an arm over your shoulder, making it clear you're not alone. “Hey, didn’t your mom teach you to back off when someone’s not interested? Or are you just slow?”

If the guy persists, Karasu’s easygoing demeanor turns more threatening. His playful banter sharpens into something dangerous.

After the situation is resolved, he keeps a protective eye on you, even if he acts like it’s no big deal. “Guess I gotta stick around to keep losers like that away, huh?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Shoei Barou

Barou is terrifying when he's protective, he doesn't hold back when someone crosses a line.

The second he senses someone being creepy, his already intimidating aura becomes downright menacing.

He doesn't need fancy words or long explanations, Barou operates on pure dominance. He steps forward, towering over the offender, and speaks in a low, threatening growl. “Touch them, and you won’t have hands to regret it with.”

Most people back off immediately, but if anyone is foolish enough to test him, Barou is ready to escalate physically if necessary.

He might grumble about people being pests afterward, but it’s clear he’s protective because he cares. “Can’t believe I have to waste my time on trash like that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Seishiro Nagi

Nagi might seem indifferent, but the moment he notices you're uncomfortable, he snaps to attention.

He doesn’t like confrontation, but when it comes to your safety, he’ll step in without hesitation.

Nagi uses his height to his advantage, casually blocking the guy’s view of you while maintaining a sleepy but firm expression. His sheer presence is usually enough to send most creeps packing.

“Leave. You’re annoying.” His voice is calm, but there’s an underlying edge that makes it clear he’s not joking.

If the person persists, Nagi surprises even himself by getting more assertive. He’s willing to do what it takes to keep you safe, even if it disrupts his peaceful nature.

Afterward, he might act like it was no big deal. “Tch, what a hassle. You okay, though?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Reo Mikage

The second Reo notices someone bothering you, his carefree attitude vanishes, replaced by sharp focus and quiet anger.

He steps in smoothly, positioning himself between you and the creep while fixing them with a cold glare.

“You’re done here. Leave.” His tone remains calm but leaves no room for argument.

If they persist, Reo’s polished demeanor gives way to pure frustration, making it clear he won't back down.

After the situation is handled, he checks in to ensure you're okay, brushing it off like it’s no big deal.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with guys like that. Next time, I’m sticking closer to you.”

[mommyownsmee]

Hi mommy,

Red: you

Orange: me

I feel bratty today. I have the urge to tie you up & tease you.

How about I'll tie you up before you wake up. First, I'll play with myself, just to see you struggle. Besides, it's for fun. I'll sassily tease you & make fun of you while I giggle. " When I get my hands on you, you will regret it. I smile innocently. How cute, mommy, but you are not in the position to make such a command. You give a harsh stare. Aww, mommy, what's wrong. I'm your good girl, aren't I 🙂‍↕️😝. How long should I keep going, perhaps a few hours.

Be a good girl and untie me now. Maybe I'll go soft on you.

No, make me. Wait, you can't. What a pity.

And then finally after what seems hours I'll release you. Oh wait, only one hand and the leave.

When you finally see/find me I'm still bratty.

"You're in trouble." I cuckle: hm, let me think. No, I don't think so. Don't fuck the attitude out of me.

(obviously fucking the attitude out of me) How's that mommy ? Be as rough as you want. But remember I won't make it easy at all.

(Comfortable with chocking/gagged, oral fixation, edging/denial, praise/degradation/humiliation, vibrators/nipple clamps, mouth/throat fucking, cockwarming (breeding, as long as not pregnant mention), tied up, spanking, collar (no leash),blindfolds, discipline/punishment. You can control & own me, marking.)

- 📚 anon

I smirk as I watch you, still bratty, still daring, even though you know what’s coming. You think teasing me, tying me up, and playing with yourself without permission is something you can get away with? That smug little attitude of yours, that defiance—it’s cute, but it’s also begging to be fucked out of you.

I step closer, slow and deliberate, letting you feel the weight of my presence. You blink up at me, feigning innocence, but that glint in your eyes tells me everything I need to know. You’re testing me, daring me, and you’re about to regret it. My hand grips your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to meet my gaze. "Oh, baby," I say, my voice low and dripping with authority. "You think you’re in charge now? You think you can tease me and get away with it? How adorable." My thumb presses against your bottom lip, and I can see the shiver run through you.

Without breaking eye contact, I grab your wrist and pull you roughly to your feet. You stumble slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but you don’t resist—not yet. I drag you back to the bedroom and shove you down onto the bed, your body sprawled out as you look up at me with those wide, daring eyes. "Stay there," I command, my tone sharp and unforgiving. You freeze, your chest rising and falling rapidly as I reach for the rope I keep in the drawer.

You don’t even try to fight as I grab your wrists and bind them tightly behind your back. The rope digs into your skin just enough to make you feel it, to remind you of the control you’ve so foolishly tried to challenge. I step back to admire you for a moment, watching the way your body squirms under my gaze, how your thighs press together instinctively, already craving what you know is coming. "Look at you," I murmur, my voice dripping with mockery. "So eager, so desperate, and yet you thought you could be the one in charge. How… cute."

I lean down, my lips brushing against your ear as I whisper, "You wanted to tease me, didn’t you? Wanted to tie me up, play with yourself like a naughty little slut? Well, now it’s my turn to have some fun."

My hand trails down your body, fingers brushing over your neck, your chest, then lower, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. I take my time, my nails scraping lightly against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You squirm, your breathing hitching as I hover just out of reach of where you want me most. "Patience, baby," I say, smirking at the way your hips shift, trying to close the distance. "You don’t get to make the rules here. You’ll take what I give you and nothing more."

Without warning, I turn you around so your face gets shoved down into the pillows. Only a second later I smack your ass, hard enough to leave a bright red mark blooming across your skin. You cry out, and search my gaze, your body jolting, but I don’t let up. My hand comes down again, harder this time, and I laugh as you whimper, your head dropping back to the mattress. "That’s right," I purr, my hand sliding over the tender flesh. "You’ll learn to behave, one way or another."

I grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back so you’re forced to look at me. "Oh, poor baby," I mock, my voice dripping with condescension. "Starting to realize how badly you fucked up? Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson."

My free hand trails lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. I don’t give you the satisfaction of direct contact just yet—my fingers skim over the fabric of your panties, pressing just enough to make you gasp and arch your back. "So wet already," I murmur, smirking as I feel how your body responds to me. "You act so defiant, but this tells me everything I need to know. You were made to be put in your place."

When you whimper, hips rolling against my hand, I laugh softly and pull away completely, watching the frustration flash across your face. "Oh, you thought I was going to be nice? After the stunt you pulled?" I slap your ass again, harder this time, the sound echoing in the room. "You'll take what I give you, and you'll thank me for it."

I lean in close, my lips brushing against your ear as I whisper, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to apologize properly, won't you, my pretty little slut?"

But the only answer you give me is a devilish smile that starts to spread across your pretty face.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head at your defiance. "Oh, you won’t make it easy, will you? That’s fine, baby. Mommy likes breaking you down. The harder you fight, the sweeter it’ll be when you finally submit."

I turn you onto your back and grip the ropes around your wrists and give them one last tug, pulling them tight enough that you feel the bite of the fibers against your skin. You squirm against the binds, testing them, but we both know you aren’t going anywhere without my permission. My hand wraps firmly around your throat, pressing just enough for you to feel the power I have over you, my thumb brushing against your pulse as it races beneath my touch. "Look at you," I murmur, leaning in closer so my lips are just inches from your ear. "Tied up, gagging on your own defiance, thinking you still have control. That’s adorable."

You try to respond, but I tighten my grip on your throat just slightly, cutting off the words before they leave your mouth. "Shh," I whisper, smirking as I see the panic and excitement flash in your eyes. "Good little sluts don’t talk unless they’re told to." My other hand cups your face, rougher now, my thumb pressing into your cheek as I tilt your head back. "Open."

You obey without hesitation, your lips parting as you stare up at me, already starting to melt under my control. I slide my thumb into your mouth, watching as you suck on it eagerly, your tongue swirling around it, your eyes fluttering shut like it’s exactly what you’ve been craving. "That’s my good little whore," I mock, pulling my thumb out with a soft pop and smacking your cheek lightly. "Always so eager to put that filthy mouth to use."

I open the drawer right beside the bed and grab the gag to slide it into your mouth, securing it tightly behind your head. Your soft whimpers are muffled now, just the way I like it. "There we go," I coo, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as I admire the way you look—so helpless, so needy. "That’s much better, isn’t it? Quiet, obedient, just like you should be."

I take it a step further, grabbing the blindfold that lay beside the gag and slipping it over your eyes, cutting off your vision entirely. You let out another muffled sound, a mix of frustration and arousal, and I grin as I trail my fingers down your exposed neck. "Can’t see, can’t speak, can’t fight back," I murmur, running my nails lightly down your chest. "You’re exactly where you belong—at my mercy."

My fingers linger over your chest, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra before pulling it down roughly. I pinch one of your nipples between my fingers, hard enough to make you jolt, your body jerking beneath me as you let out a muffled gasp. "So sensitive already," I taunt, smirking as I attach your nipple clamps. The sharp sting draws another whimper from your gagged mouth, and I tug on the chain connecting them, watching as your body arches against the binds. "Oh, you like that, don’t you?" I mock, giving the chain another sharp tug. "Such a needy little pain slut."

I don’t give you a moment to recover before I finally take the last thing I need for now out of the drawer—the vibrator—and press it against you through your panties. The moment the vibrations start, your body jolts, your muffled cries growing louder as you try to grind against the toy for more. "Oh, poor baby," I tease, holding the vibrator in place as your hips buck wildly. "So desperate, so wet, but you don’t get to come yet. Not until I decide you’ve earned it."

Just as you’re teetering on the edge, your thighs trembling, I pull the vibrator away, smirking as you whine into the gag, your frustration palpable. "Oh, did you think I’d make it that easy for you?" I mock, slapping your thigh hard enough to leave a red mark. "You’ll learn to take what Mommy gives you, nothing more."

I lean down, my teeth grazing your neck before biting down hard enough to leave a mark that would last for at least a week. You cry out, your body trembling as I drag my teeth across your skin, biting and marking you over and over. "I’m going to leave you covered in marks," I murmur against your neck, my lips brushing against the bruises blooming on your skin. "So every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember who you belong to."

I move lower, my hand smacking your thigh sharply, the sound echoing in the room. You flinch, your muffled scream making me grin as I rub the tender skin before spanking you again, harder this time. "Such a pretty little thing," I mock, spanking you a third time for good measure. "Look at you, already shaking and dripping, and I’ve barely even started."

I finally pull your panties down, exposing you completely. My fingers slide between your thighs, teasing you, running over your slick folds without giving you the satisfaction of more. "You’re soaking," I growl, sliding one finger into you slowly. "Such a filthy little whore, getting this wet from being put in your place."

I add another finger, then another, stretching you as I set a rough, relentless pace. You’re moaning into the gag, your body arching and trembling as I fuck you with my hand, watching as you struggle against the ropes. "You take me so well, baby," I praise, my tone dripping with condescension. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be Mommy’s perfect little cocksleeve."

Just as you’re on the verge of breaking, your body shaking and your muffled screams growing louder, I pull my fingers out, leaving you trembling and desperate. "Not yet," I say firmly, smirking as you whimper and writhe beneath me. "You don’t get to come until I say so."

I stand up slowly, watching as your body trembles in anticipation. You try to shift on the bed, muffled sounds of frustration escaping around the gag, but the ropes keep you exactly where I want you. "Stay still," I command, my voice sharp, and you freeze immediately. Good. You know better than to disobey me now.

I walk to the dresser, making sure my movements are deliberate and slow enough for you to hear every step. I want you to wonder, to squirm, to try and figure out what’s coming next. The soft sound of the drawer opening makes you whimper, your body tensing as you realize exactly what I’m reaching for.

I pull out my strap, holding it in my hands for a moment, smirking as I glance back at you. You’re blindfolded, gagged, and tied, but I can tell you know what’s about to happen. I step back into your view, even though you can’t see me, letting the quiet sound of the harness straps sliding into place tease you further.

"You hear that, baby?" I ask, tightening the harness around my hips, the sound of the buckles clicking into place making you writhe against the bed. "You’ve been such a little brat, teasing me, testing my patience. Now, you’re going to take Mommy’s cock, inch by inch, until you’ve learned exactly who you belong to."

I step closer, gripping your thighs and spreading you wide. You’re dripping already, trembling, completely at my mercy. I press the tip of my cock against you, smirking as your body jolts in response. "Oh, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you?" I tease, sliding it over you slowly, teasing your sensitive skin. "But you don’t get to have it yet. Not until I’m ready."

Just as you start to grind against my strap I smirk and pull away from your dripping cunt, watching your hips buck instinctively, desperate to chase the contact. Your muffled whimper against the gag makes me grin. "Oh, poor baby," I mock, running the tip of my cock over your inner thighs, teasing you without giving you what you want. "You thought I was going to fuck you now? You haven’t even earned it yet."

I step back, deliberately slow, letting you feel the cold absence of my presence between your legs. The frustration rolling off you is almost palpable as I sit down on the bed beside you, leaning back casually like I have all the time in the world. You squirm, your bound wrists tugging at the ropes, your body trembling as you try to press your thighs together, but I won’t let you.

With a firm grip, I press your legs back open, holding them there as I lean over you. "Uh-uh," I say, my tone laced with dominance. "You’re not getting any relief until I decide you’ve earned it." I run my fingers lightly over the marks I’ve left on your thighs, your ass, your neck, admiring the way your skin is covered in reminders of my control.

"Look at you," I murmur, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. "Tied up, gagged, dripping all over yourself like the desperate little slut you are. You thought you could handle being a brat, but now you’re just a needy, broken mess. Aren’t you, baby?"

You try to nod, the sound of your whimper muffled against the gag, and I laugh softly. Without another word I pull you onto my lap, sliding my cock into you inch by inch, stretching you until you’re completely full. You let out a muffled scream, your body trembling as I hold you there, not letting you move. "You’ll cockwarm me now, sweetheart," I whisper against your ear, my hands gripping your hips tightly. "You’ll sit here, stretched and shaking, until I decide to fuck you again."

I lean back, watching as you tremble in my lap, completely at my mercy. "You can fight it all you want," I say, smirking as you squirm against me, "but you know you’ll give in. You always do, my perfect little slut."

Your muffled cries against the gag send a surge of satisfaction through me as I keep you pinned in my lap, stretched and trembling. My hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place, not letting you squirm away—not that you’d get far even if you tried. "Oh, poor baby," I whisper against your ear, my voice dripping with mockery. "You’re trying so hard to stay still, aren’t you? But every little twitch, every shake, just reminds me how much you need me."

You let out another muffled whimper, your body shuddering with the effort of keeping still as my cock fills you completely, holding you open and vulnerable. I shift my hips slightly, just enough for you to feel the stretch in a whole new way. You jolt, your bound hands pulling against the ropes, but I don’t let up. Instead, I press you down even harder onto my cock, making sure you feel every inch.

"You feel that, sweetheart?" I murmur, my fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs. "You’re so desperate, so needy, and yet you thought you could push me, tease me. Look where that’s gotten you now—shaking, dripping, completely under my control."

Your muffled whimpers turn into something closer to a sob as I lean in, my lips brushing against the curve of your neck. I kiss the skin softly, soothing for just a moment before sinking my teeth into the sensitive flesh, leaving another mark. You cry out against the gag, your body arching, but I only grin. "I told you I’d mark you," I murmur, trailing my lips up to your ear as I bite down again. "I want you to feel these bruises for days, to remember exactly who owns you."

You’re trembling in my lap now, completely overwhelmed, your head falling back against my shoulder as I start to move. My hips grind against yours slowly, teasingly, making you feel every single inch as I stretch you out even more. "You’re cockwarming me so good, baby," I say, my voice firm, dripping with authority. "You’ll sit here, nice and still, feeling how full you are, until I decide you’ve earned the right to move."

I trail one hand up your body, letting my fingers skim over the marks I’ve left on your skin, pausing to tug sharply on the chain connecting the nipple clamps. You jolt again, a muffled scream escaping your lips, and I laugh softly. "How pathetic. Maybe I‘ll decide to breed you later."

I let you sit there for what feels like an eternity, every little movement reminding you how deeply I’ve claimed you, every second pushing you closer to breaking. Your breathing is ragged, your thighs trembling, your muffled moans growing louder with every passing moment. "Oh, baby," I purr, running my hands up your sides, holding you close. "You’re already falling apart, aren’t you? And I’ve barely even started."

I keep you sitting in my lap, trembling and stretched, completely still as I trail my hands up and down your sides, deliberately slow, just to feel the way your body shudders beneath my touch. You’re a mess already, your chest heaving, muffled whimpers slipping past the gag, and I can feel how much you want to move, how desperate you are for me to take you.

But I don’t give in. Not yet. Instead, I shift slightly beneath you, the movement making you feel the full stretch of my cock inside you, and you jolt, your body arching as a muffled sob escapes your lips. "Oh, poor baby," I murmur, brushing my lips against your ear, my voice dripping with mockery. "You’re so full, aren’t you? So desperate to be my cumdump. But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet."

My hand trails down to your thighs, spreading them wider, making sure you’re completely open for me. You try to press closer, to grind against me, but I hold you still, my grip firm and unrelenting. "Ah, ah," I say, my tone sharp. "You don’t get to move unless I say so. Do you understand, whore?"

You nod frantically, tears slipping past the blindfold as your body trembles in my lap, the need radiating off you in waves. I grin, leaning back slightly so I can admire the sight of you—tied, gagged, blindfolded, your skin flushed and marked, your thighs slick with evidence of how much you crave me. "Look at you," I murmur, running a finger down your chest, tracing the curve of your breast. "So pathetic, so needy, and yet you thought you could defy me. Do you still think you’re in control now, baby?"

Your muffled whimper is answer enough, and I smirk, my hand sliding back down to your thighs. Without warning, I grab your hips and lift you slightly before slamming you back down onto me. The sudden, relentless pace leaves you gasping and sobbing against the gag, your body arching as I fuck into you hard and deep. The sudden movement forces another sob from your lips, your body convulsing in my grip, and I laugh softly, shaking my head. "That’s it, sweetheart," I murmur, grinding my hips up into you. "Let me hear those pretty little screams. Take it. Take every inch, like the good little slut you are."

Your muffled cries fill the room as I hold you against me, your body trembling with the force of my movements. I can feel the way you’re clenching around me, so tight, so desperate, and it only makes me go harder, deeper, refusing to stop until you’re completely undone. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" I murmur, my lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "And you wanted Mommy to ruin you, to remind you exactly who you belong to. Well, here you go, baby. Take it."

Your body is trembling now, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and I can feel the way you’re clenching around me, so tight, so desperate. "You‘ll look so pretty with my cum dripping out of you," I murmur, my tone softening just slightly as I lean in to press a kiss to your shoulder. "My good girl. Even when you’re a brat, even when you fight me, you always end up exactly where you belong—on my cock, shaking and begging for more."

Your body jolts with every thrust, your muffled screams turning into desperate, broken whimpers. You’re trembling uncontrollably now, your body completely at my mercy as I hold you in place, guiding you up and down my cock relentlessly. The wet sounds of your slickness fill the room, mixing with your cries and my low, commanding voice. "Pathetic," I growl, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "Such a mess, dripping all over me, completely wrecked. You wanted this, baby, and now you’re going to take every fucking inch."

My hands dig into your hips, holding you tighter, bruising your soft skin as I force you to take everything. You try to pull away, your body writhing, overwhelmed, but I don’t let you go. "Ah, ah," I mock, gripping your hair and yanking your head back so your bound, tear-streaked face tilts toward me. "You don’t get to run. You stay right here, stretched and ruined, just the way I want you."

Your sobs grow louder, your body tightening around me, and I smirk, knowing you’re teetering right on the edge, desperate for release. I thrust into you harder, my pace unrelenting, and I lean in close, my lips brushing against your ear as I murmur, "Come for me, slut. Let Mommy feel you break. Show me exactly who you belong to."

And just like that, you shatter. Your body convulses in my grip, your back arching, your cries muffled and broken as you come hard around my cock. I don’t stop. I keep fucking you through it, dragging your orgasm out until you’re shaking, your head falling back onto my shoulder, completely undone. "That’s it, baby," I murmur, my tone softening just slightly as I kiss the side of your neck. "Such a good girl. Mommy’s perfect little plaything."

But I’m not done with you yet. Your body is limp in my arms, trembling and sensitive, but I grind into you again, forcing another broken sob from your lips. "You thought I’d let you off that easy?" I taunt, one hand gripping your throat while the other trails down to your thigh. "Oh, no, baby. I’ll decide when I’m done with you."

I push you down onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach as I pin you beneath me. My cock slides back into you easily, and you scream into the sheets, your body twitching as I start fucking you again, harder, deeper, pushing you past your limits. "You’re mine," I growl, biting into your shoulder again. "Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m going to fuck that into you until there’s no doubt left in that pretty little head of yours."

Your hands claw at the sheets, your muffled cries turning into desperate, incoherent moans as I push you closer and closer to breaking all over again. I grab your hair, pulling your head back so I can lean down and growl into your ear, "You’re going to come again, and you’re going to thank me for ruining you."

Your body tightens around me, your sobs growing louder as you fall apart completely, coming harder than before, trembling violently beneath me. I slow down just enough to let you catch your breath, running my hands over your trembling body, admiring the marks I’ve left. "That’s my good girl," I murmur, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder. "You’re perfect when you’re like this—broken and blissed out, just the way I like you."

Your body is trembling beneath me, completely wrecked, but I don’t stop. My hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as I grind deeper into you, savoring the way your cunt clenches around my cock. "Do you feel that, baby?" I growl, leaning down so my lips are brushing against your ear. "Feel how deep I am inside you? That’s exactly where Mommy belongs—filling up this perfect little cunt."

Your muffled cries turn into desperate whimpers, your body twitching with every thrust as I pick up the pace, fucking you harder, deeper. "This is what good whores are for, isn’t it?" I taunt, my tone dripping with mockery as I slide a hand up your spine, making you arch for me. "To get stretched out and filled up, dripping with Mommy’s cum until there’s no part of you that doesn’t know exactly who you belong to."

I grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "Oh, you’re such a mess," I murmur, "But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To be my filthy little whore, to get used and ruined and filled up over and over again."

I press my cock deeper, grinding into you as I grip your throat with my free hand, holding you in place, forcing you to feel every inch of me. "I’m going to fuck my cum into you, sweetheart," I growl, my voice rough with intensity. "I’m going to fill you so full, and you’re going to thank me for it. That’s what good sluts do, isn’t it? They take it all and beg for more."

Your body jolts with each thrust, your muffled screams growing louder as you reach the brink, trembling and sobbing as I continue to push you past your limits. "Come for me," I command, my grip tightening on your throat. "Come while I fill you up, like the good little cumslut you are."

And you do. Your body convulses in my grip, your cunt clenching tightly around me as you come hard, a muffled scream ripping through you. I follow right after, grinding into you as I push deep, the sound of your broken whimpers driving me to claim you completely. "Take it," I snarl, my tone low and commanding. "Take all of Mommy’s cum, every last drop. I want it dripping out of you when I’m done."

I hold you there, stretched and shaking, your body completely spent, my hands running possessively over your skin as you collapse against the bed. "Look at you," I murmur, my tone softening just slightly as I trail my fingers down your sides. "So full, so ruined, just the way you should be. You’re mine, baby. All mine."

I pull out slowly, watching as you collapse onto the bed, completely wrecked. My cock glistens with your slick, and I smirk as I reach between your legs, pushing my fingers into you. "You’re going to keep it all in," I say firmly, my voice low and possessive. "That’s what good whores do—they take everything Mommy gives them and hold onto it like the desperate little sluts they are."

[ahoeforian]

in the car- ian

summary: it was your first few months into your relationship with ian so it was weird the things you were feeling when you saw him after the show

warning: virginity loss, unprotected sex,

a/n: smth quick b4 i completely lose my mind thinking abt this man :)

it was after the show and you saw ian come backstage all sweaty but not in a disgusting way although it was but you saw it differently.

it made you feel things, it was a weird feeling but it wasnt hard to guess what was happening and why you felt this way.

you watched his every move, when he wiped his face with a towel, drunk from his water bottle, then you stopped looking when he finally caught your gaze.

"can you go start the car baby" he asked, tossing his car keys your way before you were able to reply.

you made it out of the stadium before the bustling crowd and making it to ians car. the doors unlocked, you get into the car starting and turning the heat up a bit

you climbed over to the passanger side, staring off outside into the dark parking lot while waiting, where it was purposely isolated from the fans that came to see his performance.

thats when the drivers side opened and it was ian getting into the car closing the door behind him. he took a quick glance your way then faced forward then took a double take.

he caught you watching his every move for the second time tonight. your eyes wandered all over him then back at his eyes, his lips—fuck

you knew for a fact he saw that "you good?" ian asked chuckleing lowly "mhm"

" you sure?" he took his hand off the wheel putting the car back into park. so you just slowly shake your head 'no'

"why's that" it's like he wanted you to tell him upfront, the cocky smirk on his face hinted to the fact he had an idea of what was wrong but wanted you to say it.

"i don't know how to put it" you avoid his eyes and just regret even shaking your head "oh c'mon try your best" he encouraged you to try and explain yourself

"im ready" you told him. you just let it register in his mind for a bit because it's not like this didn't ever come up you just told him you weren't ready, and now you are.

"for..?" he trailed on but when you took a look at his face you can tell he was joking. "ian!" you hit his chest already feeling embarrassment for some reason. it's not like he gave you a reason to be, you just were.

"get in the backseat then" he waved back there, getting out the car. meanwhile you just climb into the backseat like you did to get in the passanger side.

he gets into the car and pulls you onto his lap almost immediately. his hand going to your hips, getting you close enough to put his other hand on your hip, placing you ontop of him towards you're straddling his lap.

both your lips meet, realizing how soft and addictive the feeling of kissing you was he was quick to speed the pace up. his hands trailing up to your waist rather than your hips and letting them rest there.

you get the hang of making out but suddnely he pulls away from the kiss and looks at you for a moment just admiringyour face while also catching his breath.

"ian-" you broke the silence and he hummmed for you to continue talking "im a virgin" you mumbled almost a whisper.

"how come?" he sounded like he genuinely wanted to know "religious background"

he nodded his head in understanding "well for starters you could-" he puts his hand back on your hips making you rock back and forth on his lap, his erection becoming more prominent underneath you.

ian just helped you rut against his clothed dick, it felt good, you couldn't explain it any other way. the feeling of pleasure made your mouth water.

a whine escapes from your lips, so you bury your face into the crook of his neck to silence your cries of pleasure.

you feel his cock strain against his jeans so you lift your head and start undoing your short then trying to pull them down as effortlessly as possible.

he helped you remove your shorts and your panties as well.

"m' gonna stretch you a bit okay?" you didn't know what he meant by that until he moved his fingers to your sopping hole, his fingers impelling your entrance, your mouth was agape as you gasp at the feeling.

the gasp turning into a moan when he eases another finger into you. you move forward feening for more of this, it all making your head spin when his fingers would touch a certain area.

he slipped his finger out with a wet pop sounds. then unzipping his jeans and slides them down along with his briefs just enough to free his cock.

it took everything in him to not handle you as if you were experienced and knew what was going on.

"you let me know if it starts to be too much" you nod at his words "atleast give me a yes or no"

"ok.." you replied to what he previously told you to do then he lifted your hips up and placed you on his dick letting you sink down. "ouch- ian.. this feel strange" he just snickered.

once he was all the way inside you, you just stayed there trying to adjust but i don't think this is something you can adjust to for a quick minute.

"can you try for a bit?" not really sure if he was asking because then he grabbed your hips and moved you up then let you again sink back down, this movement oddly stretching you.

you looked down and saw that his dick was completly gone and inside of you. you were winded after a couple more times not sure if you were supposed to be feeling like this. not that it fully hurt but it was uncomfortable then a wave of pleasure hit mid way.

you were breathing heavily as if you got done running in a track race clearly being dramatic " 'kay.. kid- stop breathing like that"

,,noo" you whine "i can't do this" you were ready to give up before even fully trying.

he let out a breath, lifting you a bit to help you off him "wait no I'll try" you protested, but didn't move.

once you moved a bit for a good 30 seconds he took it upon himself to help you. ian groaned, your tight pussy taking him whole. you liked the sounds he would make but you didnt have full knowledge of what was making those sounds happen so you just didn't worry about it 'til next time.

you hide your face in his shoulders, as he thrusts up into you. a few curse words slipping his mouth.

your stomach got this knot and with one look around the car the glass windows were all fogged up—your head still laying on his shoulders you bite on his shirt, no words could be said maybe helpless whimpers from you but nothing else. you screwed your eyes shut. this all being too much for you.

ian was focused on getting both you and himself to orgasm but mainly you so he just continued thrusting upwards into you, making your body jolt forward, just the slightest. he couldn't hold it much longer so he busts a load inside you before he could get you to finsh.

the feeling of being filled with his seed alone made you squeeze around him. when you squeezed around his sensitive cock he let a strangle moan slip from his mouth. if your words couldn't tell him that was your way of doing it. to clench around him whenever you're about to cum.

"fuck fuck fuck" you mutter letting the light headed feeling wash over. you let the material in your mouth fall out. your eyes still shut, then lightly letting them flutter open to look up at ian.

he was already studying your features, the sheer beads of sweat that made small strands of hair stick to your forehead, your slightly furrowed brows as you still try and chase that euphoric feeling you can only feel once without overstimulating yourself.

"shit ian.." your words came out as a whisper. you rest your head down on his shoulders letting his cock rest inside you before moving

"you did good, this being your first time" he huffed, lacking oxygen as same as I.

a/n: it's been a while since i wrote smut hopefully i can comeback fully cause this was pretty easy