#but when i do fall apart i just can’t stop

[slapmeshigaraki]

♡ i just feel like rafayel is greedy,, like he gets off on overstimulating you

“Baby, you have to keep your legs open for me.” You felt a pair of warm palms press against your flesh, gently forcing your thighs apart. His eyes were illuminated in the dark room, a calming sea of blue juxtaposed by the devious grin that tainted his angelic face. Your skin was slick with sweat, the sheets beneath you and the man between your legs both sticking to you like glue for the last few hours.

“Rafayel, I can’t take it anymore…” You whined as his fingertips dug into you, gripping you tightly enough to leave a mark.

“Aw, but it’s my birthday, angel. You promised me everything I wanted, didn’t you?” His voice was smooth and sweet like honey, but there was something hidden in his tone. You often wondered if Lemurians were like sirens, luring in their prey with their enchanting voices and seducing those that dared to look into their eyes before they enticed them out into the deep waters of the sea. A face as beautiful as his, but with such a devilish mind—he must’ve been a demon of some kind.

“I promised you anything that you wanted, not everything.”

“Eh you say tomato, I say come in my mouth again,” he said, full lips brushing against your most sensitive area. Your body tensed immediately, the overstimulation forcing your back to arch off of the mattress at the slightest touch. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, pressing your hand against his forehead, desperately trying to push him away. His slim fingers found yours, entangling one another before you could object again.

“Last time, I promise.” His tongue lightly flicked against your clit, a chaste pressed against you as your eyes locked with his. You pulled your gaze from his as he spoke for fear that if you looked too long that you'd be hypnotized again as you had been two hours ago when you’d made the initial promise.

“I just want to make sure I clean you up, yeah? This pretty pussy treated me so good tonight—" another kiss “made me cum so hard inside of her. Shouldn’t I at least get to kiss her goodnight, hm?” He wasn’t really asking what you thought, just waiting for you to tell him what he wanted to hear. You could hardly think straight as the heat between your legs built up once again with every light lick of his tongue against you, gently circling your entrance.

“Answer me. Don’t you want to make me happy one last time on my birthday?” You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sound of his voice, pleading as you felt the tickle of his warm breath against you as he spoke. You were slowly losing the will to deny his wishes, falling under his trance as you always did.

“Yes, I want to make you happy…”

“Such a sweet baby I have. How could I not want to make her feel good?” He wasted no time now, tongue licking painfully slow between your slick lips, sucking lightly between soft kisses as your breathing quickened against your will. It wasn’t long before you tasted the metallic flavor of blood on your tongue from how hard you’d been biting your bottom lip, desperately trying to stifle your moans. You could feel your hole tightening from the pleasure, clenching around nothing, your thighs getting covered in your wetness with each passing second.

“Angel, your pussy is pushing all of my cum back out. Do you not want my babies inside of you anymore? I thought you wanted to be tied to me in every way possible…thought you were gonna be good for me.”

“I can’t help it. ‘M sorry, Rafayel.”

“How ungrateful you are and, on my birthday, too... I guess I’ll just have to push it all back inside then, won’t I?” A scream erupted from the depths of your throat as you felt his plush tongue stuffing itself between your walls, forcing through your entrance with ease. You tried to push against him with your free hand, but he trapped that one as well, holding both of your wrists away from him and leaving you completely vulnerable. The tip of his tongue slid in and out with ease, milking every bit of his cum out of you as he licked it off of your skin. Your thighs clamped around his head, restricting his movements before he pulled his mouth away from you, giving your aching hole a much-needed break before you got too close.

“We taste so sweet together baby, just like icing…” he said, slowly releasing your hand from his grip before sliding his thumb between your lips, eliciting another scream from you.

“Don’t you want to taste it?” His eyelids were low, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. Your body was quickly growing too weak to protest. He took your silence as a yes, sliding his finger between your lips and against your tongue. You were intoxicated by the familiar taste of his cum and silenced by the weight of his finger in your mouth.

“Tell me you want me to make you cum again,” he said, barely above a whisper as he leaned back between your thighs, forcing them apart much more aggressively this time with his free hand. His full lips pressed against your skin, warmly blending with the overwhelming heat of your core.

“Nuh uh,” he said shaking his head, as your fingers moved to pull his from between your lips. “Say that you want me to make this pretty pussy cum with my thumb in your mouth.”

“Please make me cum,” You muffled out against his skin, tears pricking the inner corners of your eyes at the overstimulation as two of his fingers found your sensitive entrance.

“Good girl. My good pretty girl with the achy pussy. Don’t worry baby, I’ll help you. I'll kiss her all better, yeah?” Your cunt’s resolve was as weak as your own, not bothering to put up a fight and letting his digits in with ease. Rafayel knew every inch of your body as if he owned it because he truly believed that he did. He would ask just to watch you play with yourself in front of him, hungry eyes studying every gasp, every quiver, every twitch time and time again until he knew your body better than you did. He curled his fingers up, hitting the fleshy part inside of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head as you moaned out against his thumb.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, my angel—lettin’ me in so nicely.” His pace quickened now, fingers slamming against your g-spot over and over again as you screamed his name unabashedly.

“That’s what I like to hear, such a sweet song from my angel. Cum for me sweet girl. Come on, let go for me one last time. You can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, baby.” So you did. Your thighs clenched one last time, back writing against the mattress, eyes shutting tight as the tears finally flowed freely, the sensation overwhelming every single one of your senses. His fingers slowed down, stalling their movements as he worked you through the orgasm.

“I guess you ended up giving me everything I wanted after all, huh angel?” He said, slowly pulling himself out of both of your holes before pressing gentle kissing all the way up your body, saving the final one for your lips.

“Happy birthday, you demon.” That same greedy grin spread across his face, as he pressed his forehead against yours, both of your bodies slick with each other.

“Thank you, my angel.”

♡ last post for a little minute,, since this is the last little thing i had in the drafts. buttttt today is valentine's day !!! i hope everyone enjoyed themselves,, if u care i did a little self care day and went out with my mom and aunt. it was quite niceeeeee :))) enjoy the rest of your week, pretties <333

[00valentina-writes00]

Sevika eating pussy under a table cause there are people around?

♡♥︎Keep Quiet, If You Can♥︎♡

Warnings: Sevika is a menace, oral sex in a public place, almost getting caught, I pray for you

You don’t know how you let Sevika talk you into this.

A dinner out, she’d said. Something nice, somewhere upscale, just the two of you. And like an idiot, you’d believed her. You’d worn the little black skirt she liked, the one that barely covered anything when you sat down. You’d even let her pick the restaurant, some high-end lounge with dim lighting and jazz humming low through the speakers.

And now?

Now you’re sitting at a table, legs spread just enough for Sevika to be tucked beneath it, her broad shoulders wedged between your thighs, her mouth so fucking deep into your pussy you can barely breathe.

Your fingers are digging into the tablecloth, gripping it so hard your knuckles ache, and all you can do is stare at the half-empty plate in front of you, your lips parted as you try not to let a single sound slip out.

Sevika, the absolute menace that she is, doesn’t make it easy.

She eats you like it’s her last meal, her tongue working you over with slow, practiced strokes, curling deep inside you before dragging up to flick over your clit. Her lips seal around it, sucking just hard enough to make your thighs twitch, her rough hands keeping you spread open so you can’t squirm away.

She’s fucking enjoying this. You can feel it—the way her tongue moves, the way she groans against you like she’s the one getting off on this.

And then—

Oh, fuck.

A shadow falls across the table.

A waiter.

You nearly choke on your own spit, scrambling to school your features into something normal.

“Hey there,” the waiter says, flashing a polite smile. He’s handsome, clean-cut, his white button-down crisp against his tanned skin. “Can I get you anything else?”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out, because at that exact moment, Sevika—fucking Sevika—doubles down.

Her tongue presses flat against your clit, slow and deliberate, and then she fucking shakes her head like she’s trying to bury herself even deeper.

You jolt, hands flying to your lap to grip at the fabric of your skirt, as if that’ll somehow stop the way she’s devouring you.

The waiter’s brows raise, his head tilting. “You okay?”

You clear your throat. Swallow. Try to pretend like your pulse isn’t hammering in your throat.

“Y-Yeah,” you manage, your voice embarrassingly thin. “I just—um—”

Sevika sucks on your clit. Hard.

Your fingers clench the tablecloth so tightly you’re surprised it doesn’t rip.

The waiter’s looking at you funny now, his polite smile slipping into something a little more confused.

You need to get rid of him.

“Water,” you blurt out, your words too rushed. “Can I get a glass of water?”

The waiter blinks. “You have a full glass.”

Oh, fuck. You do.

Sevika chuckles against you, the vibration making your whole body jerk.

“I meant—uh—” You suck in a sharp breath, trying to keep your hips from bucking up into Sevika’s face. “A… a refill?”

The waiter glances at your untouched water, then back at you.

You’re sure you look insane—face flushed, eyes unfocused, hands twisted in your lap like you’re trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Sure,” he says slowly, still looking at you like you’re a little unhinged. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he turns away, you grab the edge of the table, yanking the fabric up just enough to glare down at Sevika.

Her smirk is fucking filthy.

“Having trouble, sweetheart?” she murmurs, her voice husky, laced with amusement.

You shoot her a murderous look under the tablecloth, but before you can hiss out a threat, she dives back in, tongue swirling around your clit before sucking it between her lips, her fingers tightening on your thighs.

Your back hits the seat, head tipping back as you bite your lip so hard it hurts.

She’s relentless now, fucking devouring you, her tongue fucking into you deep, her nose pressing against your clit in a way that has your stomach twisting, heat pooling low and sharp

You’re close. Too close.

And Sevika fucking knows.

She slides two fingers into you, curling them just right, pressing against that spot that makes your whole body tighten.

Your toes curl in your heels. Your breathing turns ragged. The tablecloth hides her, but it can’t hide the way your legs tremble, the way your chest rises and falls too quickly.

Sevika’s pace doesn’t let up, her tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, dragging you to the edge so fast it’s dizzying.

And then—

The waiter returns.

You barely manage to snap your head up, your hands flying to your lap again, gripping the fabric of your skirt like it’ll somehow ground you.

The waiter sets the glass down, eyes flicking to your face. “You sure you’re okay?”

No. No, you’re not. You’re seconds away from fucking losing it.

“I’m—”

Sevika presses her fingers deeper, curling them just right, her tongue flicking over your clit in fast, precise strokes.

Your whole body jolts.

A strangled noise catches in your throat, your jaw tightening as you fight to keep it in.

The waiter’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicion creeping into his expression.

Fuck, fuck, you can’t do this. You can’t—

“I-I’m fine,” you gasp out, your voice just a little too high, too breathless.

Sevika hums against you.

Your thighs clench. Your stomach tightens.

The waiter hesitates for a second longer before nodding slowly. “Alright, well… let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns to walk away.

And that’s when Sevika finishes you off.

Her fingers thrust deep, her tongue pressing firm and perfect against your clit, and you’re gone—coming so fucking hard you see stars, your thighs shaking around her, your breath stuttering as you force yourself to stay silent.

You grip the table so hard your nails dig into the wood, every muscle in your body locking up as your orgasm tears through you.

The waiter disappears into the crowd.

Sevika doesn’t stop. Not until she’s wrung every last aftershock out of you, not until your body is trembling and you’re sagging against the seat, your legs numb, your heart hammering.

Only then does she finally pull back, her fingers sliding out of you, her tongue giving one last, slow lick before she chuckles, low and satisfied.

You barely have the strength to lift the tablecloth again, glaring down at her.

She licks her lips. Smirks.

And then, the smug bastard winks.

[littlelamy]

𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓶𝓸

it starts with his hand resting on your thigh, nothing more than the weight of it grounding you both in the dark. but rafe doesn’t do well with patience, doesn’t do well with having something he wants and not taking it. so his fingers twitch, slide up just a little, just enough to feel the soft warmth of your skin beneath them.

he tells himself he’s just touching, just feeling, nothing more. but the way you shift in your sleep, the way your breath hitches when his fingers ghost higher, when they slip under the hem of your shorts, has his cock hardening against the mattress. he can’t help it. you’re right there, warm and soft and fucking made for him.

his fingers trace over the damp heat of your panties, and he grits his teeth, exhales slow through his nose. fuck, you’re already wet. already ready for him, even in your sleep, even when you don’t know how bad he wants you. his fingers push the fabric aside, and he just holds there for a second, savoring it, the heat of you, the way your cunt clenches, fluttering like it knows he’s there, like it’s begging for him.

he sinks a finger in, slow, careful, watching your face for any sign of waking. your brows twitch, your breath catches, but you don’t wake. you just sigh, shifting, pressing unconsciously into his hand, and that’s all the permission he needs. he pushes deeper, groaning quietly at how tight you are, at how easy you open up for him even in sleep.

his cock aches, throbs against the bed, and he knows he shouldn’t, knows he should stop, but he can’t. he adds another finger, stretching you, fucking into you slow and deep, his other hand pushing your thighs apart so he can get deeper, feel more of you. his breath is ragged, chest rising and falling too fast, and when you whimper, a soft little sound in the back of your throat, he damn near loses his mind.

he shifts, pressing his hips down, grinding against the pillow beneath him, desperate for any friction, any relief. his cock throbs, leaking against the fabric as he humps against it, matching the slow, deep rhythm of his fingers working inside you. his mouth finds your clothed nipple, lips latching on as he sucks, teeth grazing, tongue teasing, making you squirm beneath him even in sleep. he groans into your skin, rocking harder against the pillow, desperate, aching.

he curls his fingers, presses right against that spot that always makes you fall apart, and this time, you moan—quiet, breathy, but awake. your lashes flutter, lips parting, and when your sleepy, dazed eyes find his in the dark, he just smirks, presses another kiss to your shoulder, and murmurs, "go back to sleep, baby. i got you."

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx

[scruffycatdaddy]

There he is. The bastard on the bride’s side of the chapel. I can’t believe that my most devout follower would fall in love with His most devout follower. If it wouldn’t cause a war in the heaven’s id hunt down whichever god twisted the fates to make this happen. Dumber wars were fought for less reason…(those Olympians are so vain…)

“Sulking because your ex is here?”

The cackling voice I knew so well.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite Olympian sorceress! I hope you aren’t whom I have to blame for this comedy of errors?”

Hecate cackles “I know better than to garner the ire of a god of revelry. Your piscean nature is not worth the trouble.”

I could always trust Hecate. She understood the chaos of my mind and could easily overpower me. But instead she chose friendship and respects me. The mother of my devout prays to her so it’s natural she would come to give her blessings and behalf of his mother. This family is very blessed with the eclectic pantheon assembled.

“You still miss him?”

“I can’t hide my feelings from you so no point in me denying it.”

“It doesn’t take sorcery to read your face my friend. Revelry misses the Bounty.”

He is a god of Bounty. Many revere him as an autumnal lord of the harvest. But as revelry takes many forms, so does harvest.

“There are rumors of a war coming. Perhaps that is why fate has brought these two together?”

“The fates bring together two commoners to get me back with my Ex? That’s insanity.”

“You two were the ‘it’ couple. And together on the same side again-“

“I have shirked that mantle. It is what drove us apart and destroyed what we had.”

“And yet it was what you did best. Who knew a god of revelry and a god of harvest together would be the most dangerous war gods seen in millennia!?”

“Hecate, please the ceremony is starting.”

The minister was quite a clever man. To weave a ceremony together to honor each of us here was no small feat. He does not have to worry about offending me. I am not a jealous god. Well…except when it came to him.

“If there is anyone here who does not believe these two shall marry, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

All eyes were on me and him. We locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes still radiate the warmth I knew all those years ago. Even now hardened by the trials we had been through, I could feel his love for me as I’m sure he felt mine for him. Maybe…maybe after all the time we could find something…even just friendship. It would be nice to spend time with him again.

Suddenly, a loud explosion and I was knocked out.

As I came to I saw lightning crawling across the sky and my devout lays lifeless next to his bride. Rage. Carnage. Destruction. This was a deliberate attack against me and I would not let this go unanswered!

I gather myself and look to the sky. That Olympian bastard. We settled the score a long time ago. What cruel long game was he playing here?

“This gathering is heresy! The mixing of pantheons has been forbidden and you gods have done nothing to prevent this! For your crimes against divinity, I have destroyed this bloodline and will destroy your followers!”

I see Hecate protecting as many as she can from the lightning strikes. The other gods are doing their part. But this gathering is a peaceful one. There is only myself and him who can stop this. I look and see He is standing by his devout and blessing her with funeral rites. I walk to him.

“For her sake, not mine, bless him and the others here so they can move on.”

“I am petty, but not so petty that you have to petition on your own’s behalf using my devout’s name.”

“Listen. I just-“

“Shut up you timid prick. To be a war god, you sure are nonconfrontational.”

I had no words to say. He was right. I wanted to speak to him time and time again but I wouldn’t.

“I miss you.” That was all I could mustard out of my lips.

“…I miss you too. But right now I am furious and an elder god to fight. Do you still have some fight left in you?”

His form shifted. From the opulence of harvest golds and shades of autumn, he became enshrouded with a simple black cloak and his sickle became crude yet sharp.

I locked eyes with him again as fire burns from my eyes. My form shifting to that of a warrior with one hundred weapons at his disposal.

“For you my love? Always. Let’s make him regret bringing us back together.”

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[bblairxe]

— ୨ৎ movie night . sevika x reader . nsfw

it’s a friday night, which also means it’s you and sevika’s weekly movie night. tonight, the two of you were going to watch some shitty 2000’s slasher film. she was always one for the excessive amount of blood, screams, and lame jump scares. she claims that it’s ‘great advice for the future.’

you’re slotted in between her thighs, your back flushed with her chest. you could feel each breath she takes and the steady pace of her heartbeat. it’s all so comforting, like she’s protecting you from all the troubles from the outside world with her large embrace.

you both stay like that for the duration of the movie. until you feel sevika’s flesh hand release it’s hold from your waist and settle on your chest. you don’t think much of it, she’s always had some kind of ‘your boobs are like my stress balls’ thing with your chest. but you feel her thumb rubbing over your nipple, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “vika, i’m tryna focus.”

“then focus, doll. m’ not doing anything.”

you roll your eyes at her words. obviously she knew what she was doing, and as much as you wanted to snap back at her with some bratty remark, you hold your tongue.

you bring your attention back to the screen in front of you. apparently the main character’s ex boyfriend turned out to be the killer and is now going on a whole killing spree. how fun. you tried your best to keep your focus on the movie, not wanting to give into sevika’s horny tendencies.

that’s until you feel her hand start to go lower, breaking the waistband of your shorts. her fingers ghost over your clit barely touching but it’s enough to send a shiver through your body. she lets out a low chuckle at your shifting, your attempt to squirm away from her touch. she wraps her mech arm below your chest, holding you in place.

“watch the movie, baby. focus.”

“vika, you know i can’t. not when you’re touching me like — oh fuck.”

she pulls your underwear to the side and dips a finger into your hole. the sound of your juices sloshing around her brings a cocky smile to her face. “so wet for me, yet you’re worried about a movie.” she huffs, slowly plunging her finger in and out of you.

you let out a whine in response, the movie the two of you were watching became nothing but background noise. your back arches off of her and your hips begin to move in sync with her hand. she feels so full inside of you, but it’s not enough. “two, please. n-need it sev.”

“what-a-fuckin’ whore.” is all she says before another fingers scissors inside of you. she gives you time to adjust to the new stretch. of course, she’s not all that evil, but once your whines start quieting down, she starts going harder and deeper.

her fingers curl up to that spot inside of you, each thrust kissing it. her pace is more calculated, she wants to see you fall apart in her grasp, watch you shake from just her fingers alone. she feels the way your walls clench and convulse around her, each contraction signaling that you’re getting closer.

“mmffhh sev, i’m close baby, d-don’t stop.” your demand comes out more like a plea, paired with the guttural moans coming from your lips.

“yeah, you gonna cum?” her pace speeds up, the sound of her hand connecting with your skin escaping the blankets. your head falls back against her shoulder, your thighs shaking around her arm. it’s so close, you’re so close, until she stops and her finger pulls out.

“finish watching this movie, and then i’ll let you cum.”

🏷️ : @samcvrpenters @ellieslosttwofingers @polarhues @pornoangelz @thedxxthnotes

[bitchinbarzal]

Got you | J Hughes

summary: jack shows up in the middle of the night and you’re the only one he wants.

-

The insistent buzzing of your phone jolts you awake. Disoriented, you squint at the screen, the glowing numbers reading 1:37 am, before your bleary eyes focus on the name flashing across it.

Jack.

Your stomach twists. He never calls this late. Jack is the kind of guy who falls asleep with his phone still in his hand, mid-text, and wakes up at a reasonable hour with no recollection of what he was saying. If he’s calling now, something’s wrong.

You answer, voice thick with sleep “Jack?”

There’s a pause, just long enough to make your chest tighten. Then, his voice — low, quiet.

“Can you let me in?”

You don’t think. You just move. Throwing off the covers, you rush to your front door, unlocking it without hesitation. The second you pull it open, you see him stood with his hood pulled up, hands stuffed in his pockets, the dim hallway light casting shadows across his face.

“Jack—”

He steps past you, barely meeting your eyes, his movements stiff like he’s holding something back. He paces once before sinking onto your couch, elbows on his knees, hands laced together like he’s trying to keep himself from coming undone.

You close the door softly “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head.

Jack is rarely quiet. He’s the guy who always has a chirp ready, who fills silences with offhand comments or dumb jokes just to keep the energy light. But this is different. This is Jack stripped of all his usual defenses, and it unsettles you.

You sit beside him, close but not touching “Talk to me”

He exhales sharply, tipping his head back against the couch. For a second, you think he won’t say anything at all.

“I had a bad game”

Your heart aches at the way he says it. Like it’s more than that.

You frown “Jack—”

“I know” he interrupts “I know it’s dumb. I know it’s just one game, and I know I’ll bounce back, and I know it’s not the end of the world” His voice strains on the last part, and he shakes his head, jaw clenched “But I couldn’t shut it off. The way I played, the way I let the team down. I got in my own head, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know where else to go”

The last part is barely a whisper.

You exhale slowly.

So this is why he’s here.

He didn’t come for empty reassurances. He didn’t come for someone to tell him it’s fine, that it doesn’t matter.

He came for you.

For the quiet. For the comfort.

You don’t say anything at first. Instead, you shift closer, reaching for his hand. He tenses at first, but then exhales, letting you thread your fingers through his. You squeeze gently.

“It’s not dumb” you murmur. “I know how much you care. That’s not a bad thing”

He lets out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your skin “I just feel like I can’t get out of my own head sometimes. Like I’m never enough, no matter what I do”

Your chest tightens. Jack Hughes; rising superstar, face of a franchise, beloved by an entire city and yet, sitting here in the dim glow of your apartment, he’s just Jack. He is a boy who puts too much pressure on himself, who carries the weight of expectations too heavily on his shoulders.

You wish you could take some of it from him.

But all you can do is be here.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone” you whisper “I’m here. Always”

Something shifts in his expression. His fingers tighten around yours like he’s grounding himself in your presence. For a long moment, he just looks at you, something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Then, he moves.

He leans into you, head resting on your shoulder, body finally relaxing for the first time since he walked through the door.

You stay like that. Wrapped up in each other, your fingers still laced together. You don’t fill the silence with meaningless words. You just exist beside him, letting him take what he needs.

And when his breathing evens out, when the tension in his body finally eases, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head and whisper

“I’ve got you”

And you do.

Always.

[rafecswhore]

rafe grieving about ur breakup so much to the point where he breaks down in front of u (angst and fluff?) tysm <3

authors note: I LOVE THIS IDEA ALSO hope this does you some justice; sorry for the late response !!

he thought he could handle it.

he told himself over and over that this was for the best, that if you didn’t love him anymore, he had no choice but to move on.

but fuck—why did it still feel like you were everywhere?

your name haunted him. it was in the laughter of passing strangers, in the lyrics of songs he used to hear you hum absentmindedly, in the scent of his hoodie that you wore more times than he did.

everywhere he looked, he found pieces of you. pieces that refused to fade.

and god, it was killing him.

he wasn’t supposed to be like this. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to be the one breaking.

but he was.

and it all came to a head the night he saw you again.

it wasn’t even supposed to happen. he had been avoiding you, staying away from places he knew you’d be, because every time he saw you, it felt like his ribs were caving in. but there you were—standing outside the party, arms wrapped around yourself against the cool night air, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you should speak.

for a moment, he thought about walking away. but then you said his name.

and just like that, he was unraveling.

“rafe,” you whispered again, like you knew. like you could see right through him.

he inhaled sharply, shaking his head, his throat tight. “i don’t—” he cut himself off, rubbing a hand down his face. “i can’t do this.”

“do what?” your voice was gentle, but it only made it worse.

“this.” he gestured vaguely between you. “pretending like i’m okay. pretending like it doesn’t still fucking hurt.”

the words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could shove them back down where they belonged. his breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists, but it was useless—he was already breaking.

“rafe…”

“you left,” he said, voice raw, eyes stormy and lost. “and i don’t know how to live with it. i don’t know how to be without you.”

the confession shattered something in the air between you.

he exhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling unevenly, and when he looked at you again, there was something in his eyes that made your stomach twist.

desperation.

“i don’t sleep,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t eat. i don’t feel like—fuck—i don’t even feel like a real person anymore.”

your breath caught.

“i pick up my phone a hundred times a day, and i don’t even know what to say to you,” he went on, words tumbling out of him in a way that felt out of his control. “i keep thinking… if i had just done something different, if i had just—”

his voice cracked.

and then, before you could even register what was happening, he was breaking right in front of you.

his shoulders slumped, his breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. his hands ran through his hair, like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying to physically keep himself together.

“tell me what to do,” he whispered. “tell me how to make this stop.”

your chest ached.

because this wasn’t the rafe cameron the world knew—the sharp, confident, untouchable boy who never let anyone see him bleed. this was the real him. the one you had spent years knowing, loving, understanding.

and right now, he was falling apart.

before you could think better of it, you stepped forward, reaching for him.

the second your hands touched his face, his breath hitched, his skin burning under your fingertips. his eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching, and for a moment, he just stood there, letting himself feel it.

letting himself feel you.

“you’re going to be okay,” you whispered, even though you weren’t sure if it was true.

his grip on you tightened, his forehead dropping against yours. “i don’t know how to be okay without you.”

“you will be,” you promised, though the words tasted like a lie.

he exhaled shakily, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt desperate, like he was afraid to let go. his fingers clung to your back, his breathing uneven, and for a few long moments, neither of you moved.

and maybe, just for tonight, you let him hold you.

maybe, just for tonight, you held him back.

[coichii]

VALENTINES ✭

—(🎧)—> scenarios on skz & their valentine’s day with you

pairing -OT8 SKZ (seperate) ♥︎ fem!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 1.1k combined

warnings - sexual innuendos, 16+ advised. sorry if some parts are longer than others 🥲

CHAN

gets veryyyy romantic

takes a day off of work just so he can spoil you

wakes you up around 07:00 am to breakfast in bed, doesn’t take thank you for an answer

explains all the things he has planned as you munch away, blushing everytime you squeal at all his ideas

ask you to wear something pretty for when he takes you out

surprises you with a walk around the city

just sits there and smiles as you step into different shops around the district, handing you his card when you need it

takes you out for a rooftop dinner afterwards, it’s super romantic and he’s acting very flustered

got you flowers for when you came back home too

and the night was filled with, you know what ☺️

let’s just say you were sore afterwards

LEE KNOW

doesn’t make much of a big deal about it, kinda of wants it to be like any other day of loving you, just with a bit more sugar

wakes you up sweetly, and plans to spend a day with you after work

gets you a small bouquet of flowers on his way home, adds a heartfelt card to it aswell

surprises you with it before tackling you and the cats to the couch to watch some cheesy romance movie

gets distracted half way through and kinda just stares at you

gets a little emotional when you read his card out loud, especially after he sees those pretty tears start to well up in your eyes

tries not to let it show though

definitely cooked you and him an amazing homemade dinner

it’s a whole romantic display too with candles and dim lighting ☺️

listens as you dump your mind onto him

stares at you with stars in his eyes as you just go on and on and was his heart racing like this before??

nice peaceful sleep

CHANGBIN

barely gets any sleep prepping for valentines day

buys everything the day before, and waits until you fall asleep to put everything up in the living room

wakes you up sweetly with kisses and cuddles, definitely murmuring little “i love you”’s along the way

gives you a card and bouquet right away, loving the look on your face when you see them

downstairs is a romantic display of balloons and flowers, chocolate lays on the table in a cute heart shaped box

super cute throughout the whole day, texting you little messages as he works

takes you out for a surprise dinner that night, somewhere fancy and up high

the dinner is romantic, filled with small and large confessions of love from him

HYUNJIN

the most articulated of them all

others plan for days but hyunjin plans for WEEKS

literally right up his alley

wakes you up all sweet, starting your day off with a long confession of love before getting up

hyunjins plan was a scavenger hunt, leaving little notes of hints on where to go next across the apartment and having you find them

each note had a small treat on it like a lollipop or a small love letter

the final surprise is a display like chnagbins, filled with lots of chocolates

the difference is changbins is more red, pink, and white whilst hyunjins is very dark red & sexy

has you put on something comfortable but pretty at the same time as you two go out for a spa day

honestly the most ideal date getting to lay their with your boyfriend with a face-mask on as you guys talk about nothing and everything at the same time

can’t stop kissing you either

HAN

actually very nervous to show you what he prepared

thought what he was doing was too simple for you and got all timid

whole time it was all you wanted

basically planned out a little relaxation pod for after work in the living room

little a pillow fort with snacks and heaps of blankets with a little basket of Disney cds to watch

he thought it was simple, so he doesn’t really understand why you run up to him and start kissing his face saying I love you over and over again 😭

also slipped a tiny love note in your back before you went to work for you to read there :((

the pillow fort is so cute with perfect dim lighting and a romantic yet simple aroma

you guys just sit there all warm and cuddly while watching Disney classics all night

when you fall asleep he carries you to bed and tucks you in before wishing you good night 🥲

whole time he couldn’t even sleep because all he could do was stay up thinking about you

FELIX

do I even need to state that he home bakes you something?

…and do I need to state that it’s heart shaped brownies?

CANTTTT get off of you the entire day

like we all know he’s very physical but he is rlly rlly fluffy today

surprises you with your favorite flowers and a handmade card

honestly just treats you like a princess

gives you your own personal spa day filled with a massage and bathing you in a soap that he brought specifically for that day

after that, it’s a handmade dinner thats displayed beautifully

now he’s wondering what you’re crying for

he sings you to sleep that night, singing various love songs because he knows you love his voice

but you’re not allowed to go to sleep until he gives you an entire speech on how perfect and loved you are

SEUNGMIN

sigh…

my boys kinda akward

didn’t know if he was supposed to ask you to be his valentine since you guys were already dating 😭

he did anyways and best believe he was stuttering and blushing like a kid asking out their 5th grade crush

on Valentine’s Day tho, he’s definitely more lovey dovey

he’s kind of like Minho where he wants it to be like every other day just with a little more sugar

his gift to you wasn’t anything physical or a card like the other guys were

instead, it was him pulling out his guitar and singing a song that he had written about you that wasn’t released

when I tell you it had the most beautiful lyricism and melody I’m not lying

safe to say you cried

JEONGIN

poor old Jeongin was the most nervous

decided to do one of those basket things (like a boo basket or a burr basket but for valentines)

filled it with a plush, chocolate, roses, perfume, lotion, etc

he handed it to you blushing and everything

stayed home while you went to work which was weird because he usually leaves before you

but it all made sense when you came home to rose petals on the floor leading to the bedroom

He didn’t mean for it to be sexual at first but it just turned out that way 😭

you guys definitely do just cuddle tho

he’s just staring at you so lovingly and pressing kisses all over your face

in love

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: dean winchester x reader

song: espresso by sabrina carpenter

warnings: 18+, smut

now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh

there's no goddamn way he’s sleeping. you know it because the phone’s already buzzing on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name—dean. you sigh, knowing exactly what he wants, and when you pick up, his voice is low, rough, dripping with need. he never lasts more than a few days without this, without you. distance frays him at the edges, makes him restless.

is it that sweet? i guess so

"baby," he breathes, already wrecked. "you sleepin’?"

you chuckle, voice thick with exhaustion. "was about to."

"nah, you weren’t. you knew i was gonna call." his voice is a slow drag of heat, the same way his hands feel on your skin when he’s finally home, the same way his mouth lingers when he’s memorizing you all over again.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his voice is like warm whiskey over ice, like gravel under the tires of his impala, steady and rough. "can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you," he mutters, a groan slipping out like he’s already palming himself through his jeans. "wish i was home right now. wish i was fuckin’ buried in you."

that's that me espresso

heat blooms in your stomach at the way his voice tightens, the way he barely holds it together. "yeah?" you tease, already shifting under the sheets, already picturing his broad hands on your thighs, his mouth dragging over your skin. "tell me what you'd do."

move it up, down, left, right, oh

he lets out a shaky exhale, breath already ragged. "you know what i’d do. mouth on your neck, hands all over you—fuck, i’d take my time. make you feel so goddamn good." his voice drops lower, strained, as you hear the slick sound of him stroking himself, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring the ache. "wish I had my hands on you right now. wanna feel your tits, wanna taste every inch of you. bet you’re warm, soft—fuck, bet you’d feel so perfect wrapped around me."

he groans, deep and needy, and you swear you can hear his head tilting back against the pillow, his jaw tightening. "goddamn it, sweetheart. tell me you need it just as bad."

switch it up like nintendo

he’s always like this when he’s away too long—needy, relentless, like the distance between you is something he physically can’t stand. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot, if you didn’t know how wrecked he’d be when he finally got home.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his breath stutters through the line, and you can picture it perfectly—his head tilted back against some shitty motel pillow, body tense, fist wrapped tight around himself. "baby—shit—I’m close."

that's that me espresso

"good," you whisper, biting your lip. "wanna hear you fall apart for me."

too bad your ex don't do it for ya

when he finally gets home, it’s chaos. bags hit the floor, keys are forgotten, and his hands are on you before the door even shuts. he smells like road dust and leather, like gunpowder and whiskey, and it’s intoxicating.

walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya

you don’t even make it to the bedroom. dean’s got you pressed against the wall, mouth hot and demanding against yours, hands greedy and impatient. "been too fuckin’ long," he growls, voice thick with need. "gonna make up for every damn second."

soft skin and i perfumed it for ya

his fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, all heat and desperation. the solid wall against your back does nothing to cool the fire spreading through your veins as his mouth moves hot and open over your throat, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. his hands roam greedily, gripping, kneading, as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone.

"missed you so goddamn much," he mutters, voice barely holding steady. one hand slides between your thighs, pressing against your core through thin fabric, feeling the heat and wetness waiting for him. "need you. need all of you." his hips roll forward, grinding the hard length of him against you, and it's dizzying, the way he devours you, like he’s been starving for this, for you.

(yes) i know i mountain dew it for ya

you laugh, breathless, clinging to his shoulders. "then take me, winchester."

(yes) that morning coffee, brewed it for ya

the next few weeks, he hardly lets you out of his sight. anytime you move, he’s there—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck, pressing you into the mattress, the couch, the damn kitchen counter. he’s insatiable, but so are you, and every time he touches you, it’s like setting gasoline on fire.

(yes) one touch and i brand-newed it for ya

you tease him about it once, about how insatiable he is. he just grins, presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "ain’t my fault," he murmurs, lazy and content. "you’re my goddamn addiction." and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing keeping him together, you know it’s true.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @sunnyteume @starzify

[homiesexuallaj]

“Jackass.” “..Dumbass kid.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre/Warnings: fluff, both live in the compound, enemies??/frienemies?? to lovers, name calling (nothing like hateful though), blood, wounds, stitches, thorns, food sharing, sick! reader, grumpy but caring! bucky, kinda proofread

Summary: You and Bucky hate each other's guts, or so you thought. Over the years of your rivalry/friendship, you two seem to soften up ever so slightly. And just in time for Valentine’s Day!

prompts:

one // two // three

———

Bucky Barnes. Local resident jackass.

You two had been at each other’s throats since you first ever met. Both of you were stubborn and had “my way or the highway” attitudes. It was horrible since you two lived in the compound with a few others, and even worse when you two had missions together.

Steve was always placing a large palm on Bucky’s shoulder. Sam always had a hand rubbing at the stress lines on his face as he begged you two to “take a break.” Natasha was always working to keep you two separate, dragging you away to the city, her apartment, or your room.

But living in the same place, in the same building. It was always like a ticking time bomb if you two spotted each other across the room. It was always a staring contest, checked shoulders, and snarky comments.

“You look like shit.” “What’d you do? Fall in the middle of a bull run?” “Oh god, you’re coming?” “Old man.” “Fucking kid.” “You’re a dumbass.” “Fuck off.” “Would you get?!” “Quit that!”

But there was an… oddness to your dynamic.

With watchful eyes when the other wasn’t paying attention. Or a freshly brewed pot of coffee in the middle of the night. An oddly placed book that was bound to catch attention. Held doors. And allowed first dibs on the bed of the assigned safe house. Or looming over your shoulder if some random guy tried to talk to you either out in public or on a mission.

Hell, you could barely talk to any guys at the bar before they were throwing fleeting glances over your shoulder before they scampered off. You turned around only to meet Bucky’s irritating blue gaze staring you down over the edge of his glass of whiskey. You’d always turn around, sit down at the bar, and order something stronger.

It’s even worse if you try to bring a guy home. It’s always, “Who's this?” “Where’d you met him?” “How long have you known him?” “One night!?” “..Well, where does he work?” “What kind of car does he drive?” “What’s the license plate number?” “What’s his mom’s maiden name?” “What high school did he go to?” “Where did he go to college?” “What bank does he bank with?” “You know his social security number?”

“Bucky-!”

“What?!” . . . “Get out.”

And off goes the guy.

“You’re a jackass.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you stopped bringing weird guys home.”

And then you’re storming off to your room and slamming the door shut. You throw yourself down on your bed and make grumbly noises into your pillow as you rant to yourself. Then, you’re reaching into your nightstand drawer to fish out something that could help you with your personal problem that you were originally going to deal with- with another human person, not an electronic vibrator.

And good god. Don’t even get started on the fact that you can’t even get stood up on a date alone.

You had made a reservation for one of the nicer restaurants down in Brooklyn. You were supposed to meet a guy here you met online. But thirty minutes pass. And then an hour. The guy’s a no show.

So, there you are in a nice, crimson colored dress and all alone with a meal for one. You’re not even hungry anymore. Picking at your food as you sip at a bottle of beer you traded for a glass of champagne. When to your right, someone goes,

“Beer? Really?”

You look up.

There’s Bucky. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and slacks, of course with his famous leather gloves. His hair is brushed back, but a singular strand falls over his forehead. If you two didn’t hate each other so much, you might even say he’s handsome. But he’s totally, definitely not handsome at all, nuh uh.

"You've been teasing me all this time about being single just for you to get stood up?" He says with a bemused expression. Clearly, Bucky is entertained by your suffering.

You don’t say anything. You send him a glare instead before you’re looking back down at your food, which is room temperature now. And then you’re jostled to the side as a bulky body shoves you down the booth.

"Move over,” Bucky demands, shoving his way into the booth to sit beside you. “You're lucky I'm hungry."

“There’s a whole other booth, Barnes,” You point to the empty booth.

“This one looks comfier,” Bucky shrugs, picking up your fork so he can start munching down on your pasta.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way Bucky is practically pressed into you. Your thighs touch and your shoulders are pressed together. The fabric of his dress shirt is soft against your exposed arm. You ignore the way that neither of you two make a move to separate from each other or the way Bucky tosses an arm across the back of the booth while you wait to pay. Except, Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to pay. He slaps your hand away, throwing down his credit card that you weren’t even sure he understood how it worked.

He does understand how it works, he argues. You don’t believe him one bit.

“Thank you,” You say as Bucky and you walk out into the parking lot.

“Don’t mention it,” He replied with a hand on your lower back.

And you don’t. You never do. Even if it’s something you think about every night with your thoughts running wild and second guessing every emotion you have.

Though, you don’t even notice your dynamic changing bit by bit after that ruined date. You’re too busy having aggressive staring contests and spitting out snarky comments to notice a change.

You’re oblivious to the way Bucky’s eyes are a little softer when they look your way or how his shoulder always brushes against yours when he’s near you. Or that he starts joining team movie nights, replacing Sam’s spot beside you after the first night he joined because he didn’t like you and Sam all cuddled up on the couch. And he hated the way you two whispered and giggled with each other during the movie. Or how you two shared a blanket. Bucky hated it.

So, the next movie night when he stole Sam’s spot and Sam protested, Bucky only told him to “go find another spot” and that “it won’t kill you if you don’t sit besides her.”

So, Sam has to relent. And he prays to whatever god above that you two don’t bite each other’s heads off during the movie. And he’s presently surprised you two don’t.

You don’t notice either that Bucky always has a spare mug sat beside the coffee machine if you have another one of your restless nights. Or the way he starts reaching for your hand if you cross a street or if you have to temporary separate from a mission. Nor that Bucky seems to “absentmindedly” interlock your pinkies on the way back from a mission if you two sit beside each other. Cause you two are always sat beside each other now.

You don’t notice until Natasha is bringing it up.

“So when did you and Bucky get all buddy-buddy?” Natasha asked you over the music of the bar the team has congregated in for the night.

You cock and eyebrow her way, sipping on your season edition of Strawberry Blonde Shiner beer.

“What do you mean?” You ask, swallowing the cool liquid down.

“Well.. y’know..,” She trails off, swirling around her own beer.

“No,” You look at Natasha seriously. “I don’t know.”

“Well, how you two are around each other all the time now,” Natasha tries, giving you an expectant look. When you’re still looking confused, she continues. “Like during movie nights, he took Sam’s spot. Or how he never shoulder checks you anymore and his smartass comments your way have lessened. Even his tone has less bite to it than it used to. Or how he’s always gotta be touching you now, like a hand on your back or a pinkie interlocked with yours.”

The red-head lists off example after example. Though, she gives up when you don’t seem to come to an enlightenment or when you don’t agree that maybe Bucky is softer with you now. That he’s been getting softer since your ruined date, or even since before then. You don’t know. You don’t know cause you don’t notice. Just like you don't notice the watchful blue eyes from across the bar.

Though, a little light shines through the crack of your mental walls in the dim kitchen of a safe house off in Germany.

There’s blood in the sink, smeared across your shoulder and hands, splattered across your face, and dripping down your side.

You did your best to clean up, but the tear in your side limited your movements. And with too much of shaky hands, you had to let someone else stitch you up. That someone else was Bucky, who’d knelt down at your side before you could even say “no.”

You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth as you suffered through the pain of being stitched up without any painkillers expect the decent bottle of vodka. Your fingers twitched with every stab of the needle and your lip curled into a grimace as you felt the thread being pulled through your skin. You had the fight back the queasiness that you weren’t sure if it was from the pain or the blood loss.

Bucky knelt beside you on the linoleum floor of the kitchen. He was face to face with your side as he wove the needle and thread in and out of your torn skin. His eyebrows were scrunched and his eyes concentrated. And he was silent for once. No smartass comments or words of encouragement, not that you would expect any from him. Bucky’s hands were deft and rough. The callouses felt like sandpaper against the sensitive skin of your ribcage.

Soon enough, Bucky was done. He stood up, threw out trash and cleaned up his bloody hands. He scrubbed all the way up to his elbows, getting rid of any blood and grime that may have lingered still. He hadn’t even tossed your slightly undressed form a glance over as he wrapped up your abdomen with gauze.

“Lost a lot of blood,” Bucky commented.

He’d brought a cold, wet washcloth up to your face as he began to wipe away at the blood there. The man still had that stupid concentrated look in his eyes.

“No shit,” You say with a tone that’s a little harsher than intended. Blame it on the pain and the lightheadedness you feel.

You watched as Bucky wiped your face off, wiped down your right shoulder and bicep, and wiped the exposed skin of your torso. You looked Bucky over, taking note of his own wounds and scrapes that he had yet to tend to.

Once done, Bucky looked back up at your face and stared. Just stared right into your eyes. He wasn’t looking around and he didn’t seem to be searching for anything. He was silent.

You ignored the way your heart seemed to pick up in your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was from nervousness or another emotion. Your brain was too foggy with pain still to decipher your feelings.

“What?” You asked with a normal volume of voice, not bothering to keep your voice down. Hopefully it would scare Bucky out of this weird, up close staring contest.

“Go get something sweet to eat. Keeps your blood sugar up,” Is all Bucky says as he breaks away and mills about, wiping down any affected area in the kitchen from the impromptu stitching.

You don’t protest or even argue. You go over to dig in your jacket and fish out a couple heart shaped suckers you snagged from in town.

It was February. Why not indulge a little in the heart-shaped candy that lined the shelves of almost any store around this time of year?

You gotten through about two and a half suckers before you began to doze off on the couch. The stick of the third sucker still hung from your mouth, still with your lack of movement. You’d didn’t have time to protest or process when the candy was yanked from between your teeth, pulling you from your dozing state.

“Hey!” You sat up straight but instantly regretted it with the painful pull in your side. “I was eating that!!”

“I’m not stitching you up just to have you choke and die on some stupid ass sucker,” Bucky pointed at you with the sucker, looking down at you with a harsh glare.

“I was not going to choke and die,” You protest, settling back down into the couch.

“Uh huh,” Bucky muttered as he made his way around the couch to sit down beside you. “And my first name isn’t James.”

Bucky popped the sucker into his mouth, taking no regard for that fact that it was just in yours. He was completely unbothered by the fact, toeing off his boots before propping his feet up on the wooden coffee table.

You grumbled, sinking back into the couch and pulling your own feet up to yourself. It took you a minute, but eventually you dozed right off again. Your brain was exhausted and your body was doing its job on tiring you out so you could get some well-needed rest.

Never mind that when Sam and Natasha came in from outside, Bucky still had the heart-shaped sucker in his mouth and your legs across his lap. The tv was off, holding the room in an almost comfortable silence. Or, it was silent to Sam and Natasha.

You start to come to terms with the fact that Bucky seems to care for you, for some odd reason, when you get sick. Not just sniffly, sneezing, stay in your pajamas all day sick. More of sweaty, feverish, sleep all day, barely eat or drink anything kind of sick. For three days, no less.

Your fever was so high, you could barely keep a shirt on. But you did as Natasha kept coming in to check on you and keep you stocked up on gatorade and pedialyte. You were between kicking your blankets off or snuggling up under at least five. You switched between laying on your side, huddled under your blankets, on your stomach with arms around your pillow, or on your back with your t-shirt pulled up to expose your stomach in order to try and keep cool.

You currently laid in the latter position, on your back with an arm tossed over your eyes to shield the light shining in through your cracked bedroom door. You could hear the muffled voices of two people bickering from somewhere out in the common area of the living floor. But they were too quiet and you were too exhausted to try and listen in.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky and Natasha were arguing which food to try and feed you for dinner. You haven’t eaten for three days now and your fever, while dwindling, was ever persistent.

“She needs to eat something spicy! Something to sweat out the fever and clear her sinuses!” Natasha protested, holding a packet of spicy ramen.

“No, she needs something that she’ll actually eat and that’ll keep her hydrated,” Bucky countered, already holding two cans of chicken noodle soup in his hands.

“And how do you know what she likes?” Natasha asked, holding an accusatory tone. “You hated her guts only just a year ago!”

“I didn’t hate her guts!” Bucky defended himself. “She hated mine! And she’s so fucking stubborn, and she never listens to me!” He then gives a little shake to one of the cans. “Plus, I pay attention to what she likes.”

Natasha sputters for a moment, “I know what she likes! She’s my best friend!”

“Obviously not, since you’re trying to feed her something spicy while she’s in there sick and practically withering away,” Bucky protested.

You didn’t even hear the continued argument, or when it finally dwindled away to silence. When you heard your bedroom door squeak open, you sighed.

“ ‘Tasha, I’m not hungry-” You lifted your arm to who you thought was Natasha trying to feed you again. “Oh-.” It was Bucky.

Bucky held two mug-soup bowls in his hands as he made his way into your room. He sat the bowls on your nightstand table. As well as a washcloth you hadn’t notice he was holding at first.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked, pulling your t-shirt down to cover your stomach back up.

“Getting there,” You mumbled, laying your arm back over your eyes.

“You need to eat-” Bucky started as he sat on the edge of your bed.

“Not hungry,” You mumbled.

“I don’t care,” Bucky grumbled, picking up one of the bowls. It made a clinking sound as the spoon moved around. “Now sit up.”

You gave a groan as a sort of weak protest, but you sat up anyway. You moved yourself up with shaky arms and sat back against the headboard of your bed. You took the mug-bowl from his hands, only Bucky didn’t let go until you had a solid grip on the slightly heavy eat-ware. Then, he picked up his own bowl when you picked your spoon up.

“Chicken noodle,” You commented, taking a sip.

“You should be lucky I’m feeding you,” Bucky took a spoonful of his own chicken middle soup. “Natasha wanted to feed you spicy ramen.”

You give a weak chuckle, which forms into a few even weaker coughs, “Sounds like her.”

“Yeah,” Bucky scoffed, still bewildered that Natasha wanted to feed you something spicy at one of your weakest moments.

You two ate the soup in silence. The only sound between you two was the clinking of spoons against the ceramic soup-mugs. And ever so slowly, you finished your soup. You set the mug to the side before laying back down on your bed.

“Thank you,” You said with a low, quiet voice.

“It’s no problem,” Bucky had finished his own soup a few minutes before you and his own mug was sat beside yours now. “I’ll make you more if you want.”

“Not now,” You shook your head. “Maybe later.”

You noticed that, now that you two were done eating, Bucky made no move to get up or leave your room. He only stared down at you from his seated position, and even went as far to brush a few strands of hair away from your sticky forehead. But he also stopped to press the back of his hand against your forehead, feeling for your fever.

“Your fever should go down now that you’ve eaten,” Bucky noted, then brought the folded washcloth to your forehead. The fabric was damp and cold against your skin. “This should help keep you cool.”

“Wow, Buck, keep treating me like this and I might think you like me,” You joked, a little smile on your face.

“Whatever,” He mumbled, though he kept a hand pressed against the washcloth on your forehead.

Bucky never left you as you laid there on your back, relishing in the cold of the washcloth against your heated skin. He even got comfy in the spot beside you, laying his legs up on your bed and sitting back against your headboard. And when Natasha came in to check on you, and to see where Bucky disappeared to, he didn’t even blink an eye when Natasha saw how you two were positioned.

You moved to lay back on your stomach, hugging your pillow with the damp wash cloth over your eyes to try and keep cool. And Bucky still sat up beside you, with a hand rubbing at your back.

“You’re a simp,” Natasha whispered, leaning against the doorway to your room.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Bucky whispered back.

“Then Urban-Dictionary it,” Natasha shot back.

“That’s not a real dictionary,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow her way.

“Online, old man,” Natasha muttered, pulling your door closed until it was just a crack open before she left.

And he did “Urban-Dictionary it” later than night. Bucky only rolled his eyes at the definition. This wasn’t a real dictionary anyway, so “simp” wasn’t even a real word in Bucky’s mind.

Nevertheless, over the next few days, you got better. Better enough to feed and shower yourself. Better enough to wander down to the gym to work on building your muscle and endurance back up.

Better enough just in time for Valentine’s Day. A year now since Bucky stitched your side up in Germany.

But, at the moment you were second guessing if you were really better or not. Or if you were in a sickness-induced comma or you were having some sort of twisted fever dream. Because you were sure this wouldn’t have happened in a million years, no matter what.

Bucky stood in front of you, looming over your form as he shoved a bouquet of very nice roses in your face. Literally. The petals literally slapped you in the face when you turned the corner.

“What the hell?!” You sputtered, backing away from the face-full of roses you just got. “What are these for?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Bucky answered flatly, jerking the roses in your direction.

“And?” You asked, gaze flickering between Bucky’s and the flowers.

“And these are for you,” Bucky replied, still holding out the roses. When you didn’t take them right away Bucky got sassy, “Just take them! My arm’s getting tired.”

You finally did take them. You were almost about to tease Bucky about him being a sap and being romantic, until you felt a sting of pain take over the tip of your pointer finger. You jumped and pulled back, almost dropping the flowers. You looked down at your affected finger to find blood already seeping from the pinprick on the pad of your pointer finger.

“What the hell, man?!” You asked, more offended than previously.

"I thought bringing you roses would be romantic! You know!?" Bucky matched your tone, offended by your reaction. “Since it’s Valentine’s Day?!”

"Not when they still have the thorns on them, dumbass!" You countered, taking your bleeding finger into your mouth to soothe the pain. “And since when do you give a damn about being romantic?”

“Since I saw this on sale,” Bucky pulled a heart-shaped box of chocolates under his arm and handed them your way.

You glared down at the box suspiciously, still soothing your finger. You glanced up at Bucky before finally taking the box. You looked it over, seeing if it had been opened or tampered with at all. Then you remembered,

“Chocolates go on sale tomorrow, old man,” You point out, still glaring at Bucky suspiciously.

“Well- I- uh,” He was caught, almost backed into a corner. “I got these on the bottom shelf then.”

You cocked an eyebrow his way, not fully convinced. You still twisted and turned the box, not letting your guard down just yet.

“They’re not poisoned,” Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You fought off the urge to look down at the way his chest puffed up underneath the t-shirt he wore, or the way his biceps flexed as they were squished against his abdomen. Damn him and that stupid ass compression shirt he wore.

“Really?” You turned your gaze from the box to Bucky once again. “Then share them with me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and grumbled out a “fine” before following you to the living room.

You set the thorny roses down on the coffee table before you sat down. You opened the box in your lap, setting the lid and the paper covering aside to get a good look at the chocolates.

As soon as you had the lid off, Bucky picked out one of the assorted chocolates and popped it in his mouth. He looked at you expectedly as he settled into the cushions beside you, setting an ankle across the top of his knee in a masculine way of crossing his legs.

You scoffed, picking up the chocolate of your choice.

“To definitely not poisoned chocolate,” You toasted, holding up the little square.

“To regular, run of the mill, chocolates,” Bucky responded, picking up another chocolate and tapping it against yours.

You two make your way through the box, commenting on the flavors and ones you liked or dislikes. It was a rather civil interaction, with a few snarky comments here and there, of course.

It was when you bit into one of the more gooey, liquidy chocolates and a little bit of the fluid filling slipped past the corner of your lip did Bucky do another thing that had you second guessing your conscienceness again.

Bucky, with the gentlest hand he’s ever touched you with in all your years of knowing him, cradled your jaw and swiped his thumb at the corner of your mouth. His stormy blue eyes watched the motion, making sure to wipe up the mess and not looking at your lips at all.

“Always so messy,” Bucky commented, amusement shining in his eyes. “Dumbass kid.”

You stared up at Bucky, cheeks coloring with heat and heart pounding behind your ribcage so hard you were afraid your sternum might break. You could feel your hands grow clammy and your mouth go dry, maybe you were gaping like a fish. You weren’t sure. You didn’t get a chance to respond when the voice of Steve interrupted you two from the doorway.

Due to the positioning of the couch in the living room, he had a full few of your current position.

“Oh good, you finally picked out a box,” Steve sighed, practically calling Bucky out on his bullshit. “He spent like forever in the candy isle trying to remembered what you liked.”

“Steve-!” Bucky protested, voice raising a few octaves. His own cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Right! Right! Sorry!” And with that, Steve disappeared into the kitchen.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up, “Bottom shelf chocolates, yeah?” You were teasing, cocking an eyebrow Bucky’s way.

Bucky met your eyes quickly, “Shut up.”

Amusement danced in your eyes.

Bucky finally pulled his hand away from your face, swiping his thumb at the corner of your lips once more to clear away the light pink sticky filling of your previously chosen chocolate. He turned away from you, back resting against the cushions of the couch. Throwing an arm over the back, he sucked on the pad of his thumb to clear the liquid. Never mind that it came from you, pretty much.

You turned away too, chocolates still in your lap. You tossed your feet up on the coffee table, crossing your legs at the ankles. You stared ahead, chewing on your little treat.

“You’re a jackass,” Is all you said.

“Dumbass kid,” Is all Bucky muttered back.

Never mind the way both of yours and Bucky’s thighs pressed together as you sat on the couch, or that he practically crowded into your space for the rest of your sharing the totally normal box of chocolates between friends.

Cause that’s what you two were, right? Friends?

[piastrisun]

the way you leave.

pairings: carlos sainz + fem reader.

summary: one confession was all it took for everything to fall apart. now, carlos is running, and you’re left questioning if it was ever real to him at all.

genre: angst.⠀word count: 1.1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: happy valentine’s day!! <3 i know it’s a day about love but i decided to post something about heartbreak. i hope you like it.

the air in your apartment is thick with the lingering heat of what just happened, your breaths still uneven as you straddle him, your lips moving slowly, languidly against his. his hands rest on your waist, thumbs tracing idle circles against your skin, but there’s something else in his touch now—something restrained, hesitant.

then, his voice cuts through the haze.

“what are you thinking?”

you barely pull back, your lips still brushing against his as you whisper, “right now? in what’s going on here. kissing you.”

carlos huffs out a small chuckle, but there’s an edge to it. “kissing me?”

you nod, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging lightly as if grounding yourself. “yeah. you, i guess. thinking about you.”

something flickers in his dark eyes, something unreadable. his grip on your waist tightens just slightly. “is that so?” his voice is quieter now, more careful. “do you think about me only when this happens?”

the shift in his tone makes you hesitate, blinking at him in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he exhales, dropping his head back against the couch for a second before looking at you again. “just wondering. if you think about me at other times—through the day.”

your stomach twists, an uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. this is new. he’s never asked you things like this before, never pushed past the comfortable, unspoken rules of whatever this is.

“what?” you try to keep your voice light, but it wavers. “why are you asking me this?”

carlos swallows, his jaw tightening for a second before he says, “look, i’m gonna get going in half an hour. can we be honest for once in those thirty minutes?”

there’s something about the way he says it, like he’s bracing himself for something, and it makes your chest tighten. you shift slightly in his lap, trying to read his expression.

“sure.” you shrug, forcing a smirk, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “i’d say… i think about you sometimes. not weirdly. but yeah, sometimes you cross my mind.”

a beat of silence stretches between you, and then—

“oh.”

that’s all he says.

your brows knit together, irritation sparking in your chest. “that’s what you have to say?”

carlos shifts beneath you, his hands slipping away from your waist as he clears his throat. “i think we should be just friends,” he says, carefully, like he’s testing the weight of the words. “not doing this anymore.”

the world tilts for a second, your stomach plummeting. “i’m sorry?”

he exhales, already moving, already reaching for his clothes, his phone, his keys. “yeah. let’s stop this mess.”

your breath catches, and then—then you laugh, sharp and bitter. “you’re running away from this because i said i think about you sometimes? is that what’s happening?”

he doesn’t answer. he just keeps moving, avoiding your gaze, slipping his shirt back on like this—like you—are something he needs to shake off.

your heart pounds, anger rising up to mask the hurt that’s settling deep in your chest. “of course you’re doing that. of fucking course.” your voice shakes now, but you push forward anyway, unable to stop yourself. “what did you think was going to happen when we started this whole friends-with-benefits thing? you knew what would happen.”

carlos stops then, his shoulders tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “yeah, but i—” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “i can’t.”

your lips part, but no words come out at first. you just stare at him, waiting for something—anything—that would make this feel less like a slap to the face.

but there’s nothing.

“what a joke.” your voice is barely above a whisper now, raw and strained. you shake your head, running a hand through your hair as you force out a dry laugh. “it gets a little bit real, and you run away.”

he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t try to explain.

and that, somehow, hurts the most.

carlos grips his keys tightly, his knuckles turning white, but he still won’t fucking look at you. it makes your blood boil.

you shake your head, letting out a bitter scoff. “you’re unbelievable.”

his jaw tightens, but he stays quiet.

“you know that, right?” you step closer, arms crossing over your chest like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “you act like this—like you don’t care, like none of this means anything to you—but then the second it does, the second it might actually require you to feel something, you fucking run.”

his eyes finally snap up to yours, something flashing behind them. “that’s not fair.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “isn’t it? you’re literally running out of my apartment right now because i admitted that i think about you sometimes. that’s all i fucking said, carlos.”

he exhales harshly, running a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. “it’s not just that.”

“then what is it?” you challenge, stepping closer. you don’t know why you’re pushing—maybe because you need him to admit it out loud, maybe because you need him to prove you wrong. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re scared. scared of this—of us. and you don’t know how to deal with it, so instead of facing it like an adult, you just decide to cut me off entirely.”

carlos clenches his jaw, his fingers twitching around his car keys like he’s seconds away from bolting. “i’m not scared.”

you arch a brow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “oh, no? then what would you call this?” you gesture between the two of you. “because it looks an awful lot like avoidance to me.”

his nostrils flare slightly, his breath unsteady. “i just think this is getting messy.”

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “no, it was messy from the start, carlos. you just didn’t care until it started feeling real.”

he doesn’t say anything. he just stands there, his lips pressed into a thin line, like he’s waiting for this to be over so he can leave. and that—that stings more than anything.

you swallow against the lump forming in your throat, suddenly exhausted. “fine. if you wanna go, go. if this is too much for you, then do what you do best—run.”

his expression flickers, just for a second, but then it’s gone. he exhales through his nose, giving you a single, small nod.

and just like that, he turns and walks out the door.

you don’t move. you don’t chase him. you just stand there, staring at the empty space he leaves behind, your heart hammering against your ribs.

it shouldn’t hurt this much. it shouldn’t feel like something just cracked inside you.

but it does.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

[calebslittleapple]

feels like home: red lace

After finding a lacy surprise in his washing machine, Caleb checks the security footage from his apartment in Skyhaven, only to see that he’s missed out on much more than he realized. Rushing from his home to hers, Caleb quickly realizes that his Pip-squeak is more cunning than he thought, and as the night goes on and their desires are heightened, they’ll finally stop holding back. AKA: turbo virgins CalebMc finally get to doin’ it after some LIGHT panty-sniffy and frustration-inspired exhibitionism/voyeurism HAHA.

Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)

Genre: Smut (with feelings)

CW: Codependency; Pip-squeak as an endearment; Panty Sniffing; masturbation; light exhibitionism; Light Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; Penis In Vagina Sex; Loss of Virginity; inappropriate use of Caleb's Evol; MC is named Emme Sea; Caleb and MC POV

Also on AO3

Where are you? I thought you were supposed to be home by now

Caleb glances at his phone while half-listening to the meeting he’s sitting in on—his third of the day. He is supposed to be spending the evening with his girl, but one thing leads to another, and now she’s sitting in his apartment in Skyhaven all alone.

Meeting running late. Sorry, Pip-squeak. I’ll grab takeout on the way home? ☹️ Do you count as takeout? Come home, Caleb. I’m lonely, and I miss you

His heart twists at that, while other parts of his anatomy tighten… Caleb shakes his head and takes a deep, audible breath. All eyes turn to him.

“Colonel?”

Caleb clears his throat. “We need to wrap this up in the next ten minutes.”

Backs straighten as gazes lock onto the clearly unimpressed colonel. “Right, well. I was going to do an open question period, but that can be handled via e-mail…”

It takes him an hour to get home from work. He’s picked up ramen from a nearby restaurant, but when he steps into his home, all the lights in the living room are off.

She must have gone to bed.

Emme had one hell of a week at work and was fortunate to have a day off. Naturally, she wanted to spend it with him. Of course, Caleb’s time isn’t as free at the moment, but he’d walk on nails if it meant he could free up space in his schedule for her.

After sticking the ramen in the fridge, he pads through the hallways of his apartment, searching for the one person in the world he always wants to see. He checks her room—his old space—but she’s not there.

A soft light spills from within his bedroom, and he spies Emme laying there, half covered by the blankets, and wrapped up around the soft sleeping shirt he’d been wearing last night. Torn between his desire to let her sleep, and his need to see, hear, feel, taste her, Caleb stands there and stares down at her. His Pip-squeak. His first and only love.

Things have been changing between them, though he can’t quite abandon the role that he’d long since been cast in—caretaker, comforter, her Caleb. But sometimes, the walls come down, and she’ll end up in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around her as they tease and flirt and reminisce, sharing heat and space as the borders of their relationship expand.

Sometimes, it’s just like the old days, where they watch a movie, drive each other nuts, and end up falling asleep on his big sofa.

And sometimes… he’ll find himself on his knees in the shower, his Evol holding her tight against the wall, as he sucks and finger fucks her to completion as the sound of water smothers some of her cries while washing away the day, reservations, and everything else.

Being kept from her by work put him in a foul mood. She’d probably tease him for it if she was awake. Stepping close to his bed, Caleb ducks and reaches down, skimming his fingers through her hair as she softly snores on his pillow.

The love he has for her is so potent that it’s hard to think around. Tonight, his desire to keep her safe and comfortable wins out over his desire to hear her moan his name. After showering, Caleb dresses in some pajamas and crawls into bed beside her. His long arms curl around her and tug her close. She softly breathes out his name, presses back into his chest, and goes right back to quietly snoring.

Caleb leans in, breathes in deep, and lets her sweet, apple-tinged scent wash over him. Every moment spent with her is one he cherishes, and with her curled up in his arms, Caleb actually manages to sleep soundly and without nightmares. She’s his good luck charm and chases away the dark with only her presence.

The next morning, they get up together and he makes breakfast for her, while she makes the coffee. Same as always. And when she’s just about ready to head back to Linkon City, she gets up onto her tip toes and kisses him so thoroughly that he has a really hard time letting her go.

“Come visit me in a few days,” she says between breathless kisses.

“Mmm,” he replies, knowing that he has a shitton of work to do, but also knowing that he’ll blow off food, sleep, and anything else he needs to make time for her. A few days pass, and Caleb is spending the evening doing some laundry—his and hers because she always manages to leave something behind.

Which he doesn’t mind. He loves it when she invades his space. Hell, he wishes she’d move in with him, but half hates the idea because he doesn’t want her pulled into the mess of living in Skyhaven. But still… if he could have her all the time, Caleb knows he’d be able to keep her safe.

Keep her for him, and him alone.

It’s these dark, possessive thoughts that consume him when she’s been away from him for more than a few days. Having her clothes nearby is a nice reminder that he’ll see her soon and helps to keep him sane.

Taking a breath, he tries to calm down, and it almost works, at least, until he notices something strange in his washer. Something red is hanging on the inside. Caleb scoops out the fabric, thinking that maybe he forgot to switch a sock over into the dryer, but immediately freezes when he pulls it closer.

It’s not a sock.

They’re red lace panties.

Caleb swallows. When the hell had she worn this? His mind immediately flashes back to her text—he’d almost felt her pouting through the messages. Was this why? Had she dressed up for him?

Fuck.

Closing his eyes, he’s about to throw the panties back into the washer, but maybe they’re clean? He should probably check. And really, shouldn’t something this fragile be washed by hand, anyway? Caleb talks himself into circles before finally gritting his teeth and pulling the flimsy scrap of clothing close to his nose and… and…

Fuuuuck.

They’re uhh… not clean. And they smell… so fucking good, like a sweet blend of her apple-scented soap and her body’s natural fragrance. His cock is immediately and viciously hard in his pants. Like Pavlov’s fucking bell, but for perverts.

But if he’s the pervert for smelling her clothes, what does that make her, considering it seems they were left for him to find? He feels nearly fuckin’ feral with his need for her, and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s popping the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down, and curling his length out from inside his boxers.

With her panties still wrapped around his warm hand, he grips himself, tugging once, twice, thrice before coming on his hand. It’s quick, too quick, and not nearly enough. He looks down at his hand, still gently wrapped around his dick, and stares at the cum staining her panties.

He’s gonna have to wash them now. So, he takes them into the shower and uses the panties to lather himself up with his body wash. When he’s done, they’re gonna smell like him. And when he gives them back, he’s gonna make damn sure that she smells like him, too.

But he comes down from his high quickly enough, and rational thoughts start to creep in. What if it was a mistake, and his dick was tricking him? What if she didn’t mean for him to find the panties? He towel dries the panties, dresses in his pajamas and all but throws himself onto his sofa, wrestling with his desires and insecurities until he’s a wreck.

He flicks the red scrap of clothing around his finger for a moment before he opens the HUD on his phone and remembers that he can check his security footage. He scans the footage from the last few days and finally stops when he sees her standing in his place. She makes a call—to him, likely—and tosses her phone onto the sofa in a fit of pique before dumping herself onto the plush fabric.

A few moments more, and she’s grabbing her phone, scanning through it before she grows bored and tosses it again. He skips a little, and when it comes back up, he’s utterly unprepared for what he’s about to see.

All the air leaves his lungs in a rush as he sees his girl, sitting in the exact spot as he’s sitting, topless, legs spread as her hand slips beneath the band of her lacy panties.

Caleb swallows and turns up the volume, only to be greeted with the sweet sound of her panting his fucking name.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he quickly rolls back to the start and finds her staring up at the camera, only to deftly tug the shirt—his oversized shirt, actually—over and off her body. No bra. A few moments more, and she’s standing, bending, shimmying for the camera as she pulls down her shorts and reveals the tiny red panties he’d found.

She slips back to the sofa. Taking her fingers into her mouth, she sucks for long moments, eyes still glued on the security camera as if she’s imagining he’s watching. Her free hand comes up and cups her breast, fingers teasing her nipples as she plucks and whimpers.

Then, she pulls her hand from her mouth, wet fingers trailing across her abdomen before descending lower… lower…

She’s slow with herself, even though she can tell she’s impatient. No, it’s not that. She’s needy. For him. And here, he’d been in a fuckin’ work meeting about expenses, when she’d been here… with half-naked and wanting.

Goddamnit.

He watches her touch herself, and at a few more points, she looks up at the camera, and it feels like she’s looking right at him. The frustration and need in her expression are painfully evident.

Where are you?

Why aren’t you here with me?

I need you, Caleb.

She does whimper his name more than a few times, sweet supplication spilling from her lips as her fingers dip and slide. And when she comes, again his name tumbles forth, sounding so needy for him that he wants to punch himself for being late that night.

But now, he’s free. Caleb checks Emme’s socials and itinerary, and she’s at home too.

Good.

He’s out the door, panties still in hand, and halfway to her place before he realizes what he’s doing. Thank God the train is running on time tonight. When he finally gets to her door, he stands there for a moment, hand in his pocket, and tightly clenched around her underwear as he fights to control his rapidly beating heart.

He doesn’t want to scare her, but his need for her is so overwhelming it’s making him feel insanely reckless. He takes a breath, and then, another. Long moments pass. Finally, he presses the doorbell to her apartment and waits.

When the door opens, and her beautiful face comes into view, his name falls from her lips. “Caleb?”

And before he can stop himself, he’s got her wrapped up in his arms, quickly urging her legs around his middle as he lifts her. His power closes the door to her apartment, after which he presses her up against it tight.

She kisses him back, confused but gamely keeping up. She’s fearless, his girl. His hand comes up and threads into the length of her hair, and only then does she realize what’s prompted this encounter—her panties are dangling from his fingers.

“Oh,” she breathes against his mouth. “Did I forget something at your place?”

His eyes roll back, forehead resting against hers as he breathes, “You’re lucky I didn’t check the security feed while at work.”

She catches his gaze and holds it, dead serious as she admits, “I wanted you to. It would have gotten you home faster.”

“God, Pip-squeak.”

Her hands slowly caress his chest, as if soothing the beast inside of him, but her words make him ache. “Caleb…”

“Mmm?”

“I want more,” she says, shimmying against his middle. It’s only then that he realizes that she’s wrapped up in a bathrobe… and nothing else.

“What do you need, baby?”

She catches her lip between her teeth before softly admitting, “You. Me. In bed.”

“And then?”

His body feels as tightly coiled as a spring, and what she says next nearly has him launching off the wall.

“You. In. Me.”

And here, he’d thought he was the feral one. As her soft mound presses into his stomach, nails scraping along the line of his shirt only to dip beneath and tease his sternum, Caleb realizes that maybe he was the one who’d fallen into her trap.

His answering grin is fierce and supremely satisfied. “Happy to oblige.”

____

Emme is not entirely surprised when Caleb shows up at her apartment. She’s been waiting for this moment. Waiting and hoping.

Maybe he’s here to check in on me… she thinks, but the moment she opens the door, she knows he’s found her ‘gift’ for him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s trudging them both through her small home, furiously kicking off his shoes as he tries to make his way deeper into her living space.

A few times along the way, he pauses to press her into the wall and kiss her senseless.

Ahh… maybe I’ve pushed him too far this time…

Still, she can’t help but tease. “Did you like the video?”

“I loved it,” he drawls between hungry kisses. “I wish I’d checked it sooner.”

“I thought you always checked in on me while at work?”

“I do, and I did. But I checked earlier that day. Before you called.”

She pouts. “Too bad. Could have turned that meeting into something really interesting.”

His demeanor shifts a bit, and the expression on his face is anything but amused. “Would’a been real inconvenient for me.”

“Oh?”

“Hidin’ all those bodies after they saw you like that…”

“Caleb!”

He chuckles softly, but she gets it because she feels the same. Hell, she’s found herself wanting to claw the eyes out of any onlooker as they covetously stare at her Caleb. Now, there’ll be no going back. They’ll possess each other so completely that neither will even consider the thought that they aren’t meant to be together.

Forever.

And Emme thinks her plan is going swimmingly, at least, until Caleb softly curses and lets her slip from his waist.

“Shit.”

“What?”

He shakes his head and frowns. “Thought I had this all planned out, but I forgot something.”

“What?”

“Condoms.”

Emme lets out a short laugh. “Missing the forest for the trees, eh, flyboy?”

Caleb rubs a hand over his face and is halfway through apologizing for… everything and this, but Emme interrupts him.

“You might not be prepared,” she murmurs while sliding his hand over her forearm. “But I am.”

With his fingers beneath hers, she presses so he can feel the subdermal implant.

“Wha..?”

Rolling her eyes, she explains, “Look, I know things can be kind of weird between us because of… well. You know. Everything. But I thought it would be better to be prepared.”

“You’ve been planning on having sex with me?” he says, sounding shocked even though he’d come over to her place with the intention of having sex with her if she wanted to.

“God, Caleb. Are you telling me you just watched me finger myself on your security camera and then were wondering whether I’ve been thinking about having sex with you? Seriously? How is that even a question right now?”

Her cheeks are burning, but her annoyance blocks out any embarrassment. Of course, she’d been thinking about Caleb and sex. He’s eaten her out literally every single time they’ve been together, never mind all the other things he does—and he expects so little in return.

And she… well, she’s been wanting more. Wanting to experience what the thick length of him inside of her would feel like. She’s greedy and needy, wanting to see the way his eyes linger on her body, the flush in his cheeks, and the way his ears get red when he’s embarrassed… and aroused.

She’s wanted him for a long time, if she’s being honest, but wanting and acting are two separate things. Then, she’d gone to visit him in Skyhaven, and been extra amorous given the time of her cycle it happened to be, and now… he is here, desperate and horny. So, it might not have been the best plan in the world, but it did work.

Still, she’s incredulous as he says, “I kind of thought that maybe you were just pitying me.”

“Good God, Caleb. We’ve done nearly everything except have sex, willingly and quite enthusiastically on both our parts, and you thought… Look, you think I’m naïve and don’t understand the depth of your feelings for me, but it goes both ways. I’m not… I’m not good at expressing my emotions.” He snorts, and she glares. “Anger and annoyance don’t count. And that’s not… those aren’t the kind of feelings I’m talking about.”

“Tell me, Pip-squeak.”

Emme nibbles her lips and huffs softly. “Look, Caleb. You know I love you. I’ve always loved you, but when I lost you, I… It hurt me so bad that I wasn’t sure if I could go on… you know, living. It was a lot. And now… You’re my Caleb, and I want you in every way that I can have you.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

“You came all the way here to have sex with me, and now you’re questioning my resolve?”

“Emme,” he growls softly. “This isn’t a game.”

“I know that, Caleb! So stop being a dummy and listen to me because I’m telling you that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of… whatever with you. A hundred years, a thousand—forever and a day, if we can manage it.”

Caleb takes a breath, nose flaring a little. His jaw clenches, hands curling into fists at his sides, and for a moment, Emme thinks he looks confused.

I thought he’d be happy about this…

But then, his power reaches out, and in one breathless moment to the next, she’s being lifted, legs wrapping of their own accord around his middle. Dipping his head, Caleb presses his face into the length of her hair and breathes deep. She holds him back, just as tight, fingers gently soothing as he takes a moment to really come to understand what she’s saying, and what she needs.

“Pip-squeak,” he says, voice breaking some as his lips skim against her skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long, I just…”

“Mmm, I’ve always been yours,” she murmurs. “Yours, and only yours. So, give me what we both need.”

Caleb lets out a shaky breath before carrying her over to the bed. He uses his Evol to pull the sheets back, and he’s so careful with her as he sets her on the mattress. But she doesn’t want careful. She wants him. Badly.

“Caleb,” she softly calls his name while sliding back into the pillows as his eyes roam. “You don’t have to hold back anymore…”

“Ahh,” he groans, “that’s such a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”

Her eyelids flutter, legs parting to give him better access as she murmurs, “I know you’d never hurt me. So… let’s go further.”

“How far?”

He wants her to be clear, so she indulges him. “I want all of you inside of me. Don’t stop… until we both feel it.”

He looks down, and for a moment, he almost looks sheepish. “What if I suck at this?”

“Oh, Caleb,” she says while reaching out to him. “You’re good at anything you put your mind to. You can be good for me, right?”

He pulls a shaky breath between parted, rough lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. She wants to follow that motion with her tongue, to thread her fingers into his thick hair and hold tight as he grinds his length against her, dig her nails into the muscles of his back to mark him as her own.

Caleb is so wrapped up in his own self-loathing that he has a hard time seeing the truth—that she is just as crazy in love with him as he is with her.

“Tell me… if you need me to stop.”

“What I need is for you to come here. Be with me. C’mon. We’ll do this together.”

Caleb edges closer to the bed, and though she’s already comfy in the pillows, Emme pushes herself up and out, and slides over to the edge so that she can peel the sweatpants from his hips.

“Did you wear these for me?” she teases.

Caleb shakes his head. “I was only half-sentient when I slipped my clothes on.”

“Because of the panties?”

“The panties, the surveillance footage. You.”

And maybe it’s a bit twisted, but it makes her heart beat faster in her chest, and her body tingle when he admits that he’s watched her. Of course, they always keep tabs on each other, so it wasn’t like she didn’t know he’d find out.

She’d wanted him to see her like that. Wanted to push him just a little further than they’d already gone, in hopes that she’d be able to get him to come to her. All she ever had to do was call and ask, and he’d answer—on the second ring—and be ready to do whatever she wanted.

But this was different from before. She wanted him to want her. Not because he felt obliged to do what she wanted, but because he wanted it, too.

He’s hard beneath the soft fabric of his pants. Her eyes trail over the bulge. She knows what he looks like, knows the feel of him against her palm and her body—but taking him inside of her? That’ll be new. Emme rolls her eyes up, eyelashes fluttering as she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of his pants and works them over his hips.

His dick bobs as it slips free. She bites her lips. There are so many things she wants to do right now, but at the top of the list is ‘Sex with Caleb,’ so that comes first. Still, she can’t stop herself from reaching out and gently cupping his sac before trailing her fingers over his length. Caleb stutter-steps out of his pants, cheeks and ears flushing as she catches him off guard.

Leaning back, she lets the housecoat fall open and slide away. It was a good thing he caught her after a shower; she’s ready for him. His shirt comes off next, and even though it’s certainly not the first time she’s seen him like this, she can’t help but think how good he looks.

Hell, sometimes when he’s doing laundry, he’ll walk around in nothing but a towel, the necklace she gave him, and a smile. But the look of him nude combined with the sultry look on her face is making her body achy with need. Emme bites her lip and stares, eyes traveling from the top of his dark head to his neck, his chest, his abdomen… and lower…

Every part of him looks good enough to eat, and he stands there and lets her look her fill. Finally, she slides back on her arms and smiles up at him.

“Come here.”

He does, that big body of his inching up onto her bed and covering hers completely. For a moment, they just hold each other and just enjoy the soft comfort of being together. But then, her fingers start to twitch, and his lips start to trail, and soon enough, his dark head is between her thighs.

He’s gotten ohh sooo good at this. Between the sweet sucking of his lips and the luscious licks from his tongue, coupled with the gentle thrusting of his fingers, he’s got her rolling before she even knows what’s what. But she finds it’s easy to lose herself when she’s with him. Even his mere scent drives her crazy, and when that combines with touch and soft words and ohhh the sweet tingle of his power as he holds her exactly where he wants her, how can she resist?

Finally, when he’s got her to the point that she nearly has to push him off because she’s so sensitized, his head pops up and he looks at her, lips gleaming as he obviously waits to be told what to do next. As if she knows!

“We’re gonna have to figure this out together,” she murmurs.

Caleb rubs his cheek on the inside of her thigh, lips turning into the soft flesh there as he gently kisses the hickey he left behind.

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“Are you?”

Caleb chokes. “God. I dunno. I think I’m gonna go insane.”

Good, she thinks. Then he is ready. Because she wants him so badly, she can hardly think straight. But still, this is new and a little scary, but it’s Caleb, so she knows it’ll be okay.

“Go slow?”

“Whatever you need,” he says while shifting his body between hers.

His dick juts up between them, and she understands why he’s feeling a bit crazy. He’s hard as hell, and the tip is leaking… Reaching down, she softly thumbs the top, which earns her a groan.

“Let’s… do this.” It’s kind of a ridiculous thing to say, but Caleb only chuckles and reaches up to cup her cheek.

“As fast or as slow as you need, got it?”

“Got it.”

And then, he’s lining himself up at her entrance, and the thick press of his crown against her opening is strange and Mmmm… good. He slides a little more in, and inch by inch, her warmth welcomes him in. He’s not… Ohhh… He’s not small, but he’s patient, and gentle, even though she can tell the effort to keep himself from thrusting is killing him.

Ahh… Ahh…

But somehow, she knows he even likes that part. For her, there’s no pain. He’s spent so much time building up to this moment that she’s ready for him. The memories of moments shared between them heighten her desires as well, never mind having Caleb—gloriously nude, straining, lip caught tight between teeth as he inches, inches, inches inside of her.

The moment almost doesn’t feel real. She’s imagined what it would be like to be with him like this for so long that she almost feels out of her mind now that it’s actually happening. And Caleb… God, Caleb… It’s almost like he’s stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

She reaches up and holds his cheeks in her hands, forces him to stare into her eyes, and he looks so lost—helpless, out of control, needful—that it makes her clench. Caleb groans, body twisting and cheeks pressing into her palms.

“Baby…” he moans.

Maybe it’s because she’s a bit reckless, or maybe it’s because she’s a bit demanding, it’s definitely because she’s a bit of a brat, but Emme slowly resonates with Caleb to maintain a measure of control, powers mingling as their bodies rock together. Those combined feelings have them reeling. Her legs clamp down around his middle, his arms tuck in beneath her, around her, holding tight as he grinds and grinds and grinds.

When he finally bottoms out inside of her, his eyes roll back, his lip caught so tight between his teeth that she’s worried it might bleed. And still, she can’t help but laugh some as she stares at him, in this moment.

He’s her Caleb, and this is… sex. And it’s weird, and good, and scary, and hot, and just so much that it’s a little hard to believe it’s real. Caleb must notice her freaking out because he manages to reach up and gently cup her cheek.

“You okay, Em?” She nods, but he’s insistent. “Tell me.”

“I’m good, I’m just… it’s a little overwhelming. You ‘n me. This. All of it.”

“Does it feel bad?”

“Oh, no.”

His lip curls, eyebrow raising as he asks. “Does it feel… good?”

“Caleb!” she whines. “Don’t tease me.”

“Pip-squeak,” he sweetly croons. “You clenched so nicely when I asked that. If you’re not gonna be honest, your body is. So, tell me. Tell me everything. Or… I can find all the sensitive spots on your body and get your secrets anyway. Your choice.”

She pouts, but when he gives her a teasing thrust, she knows he’s not joking. Finally, she admits, “It just feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

“And now that forever is now?”

“It’s so good, Caleb. You are so good, I just…”

“What?”

“I want more, and I’m afraid of getting it.”

“Why?”

“What if I ruin everything?”

“Not possible.”

“How?”

Caleb softly presses his nose into the line of her throat before dipping his head, lips tracing over skin, before he softly sucks a pert nipple into his mouth. That has Emme squirming, fingers digging into his hair as his hips restlessly stir below.

“I’ve made it my life’s work to give you everything that you want. So, this will be no different. You can’t ruin anything because you’re already perfect—we’re already perfect. We were made for this moment. It just… took us a while to get here. And now…”

“And now…?” she softly gasps as he thrusts, this time a little harder.

“Now, we get to see what we’ve been missing out on. And God, baby, there’s so much I wanna do with you… and to you.”

Just like that, Caleb’s got her out of her head and into the moment. It’s Caleb. Her Caleb. Always has been, always will be. She takes a breath, relaxes, and luxuriates in the strangely sweet feel of him inside of her, before curling her legs around his while angling her hips.

“More?”

“Please.”

He’s never been able to resist any one of her requests before, and it’s no different now. Except now, she gets to enjoy the hot-hard feel of him inside and atop her. He’s so responsive to her, moves so patiently, so purposefully, that soon enough, her head is lolling against the sheets as he increases the pace.

Caleb’s so broad and beautiful atop her, body so giving, lips against hers, tongue seeking, swirling, sucking, as he kisses her until she’s breathlessly moaning into his mouth. But he’s not done with her, not even close.

Slowly, his power crawls along the line of her back, curving her just so. Caleb’s always made her feel like she can fly, and right now is no exception. He’s slow and patient as he fucks her, eyes darting over her face, the curve of her neck, the sweet swell of her breasts, watching, watching, watching as if he’s afraid that at any moment she’ll disappear from this bed.

She’s just as possessive of him as he is of her, and at this moment, she wants all of him—the hurt, the pain, the pleasure, the release, the insanity of everything that they mean to each other—all of it and all of him.

Her hand threads into his shaggy hair, fingers pulling just a touch as she softly whines, “Caleb… Harder.”

He chokes, body stuttering. His lips part, and he breathes out with a sound that’s more like a whimper than a moan.The look on his face makes her worry she’s broken him.

His face rubs against her wrist, words halting as he says, “Is that an order…?”

“Do I have the authority to command you?”

“Mmm… absolutely.”

“Then yes, it’s an order.”

Caleb lets out a soft laugh. That is all the warning she gets before his power swells, and Emme quickly finds herself on top with Caleb spread out beneath her. He looks like an offering to a heathen god, arms stretched high above his head, skin flushed, muscles flexed, and chest heaving.

Now, it’s her turn to whimper, not only from the sight before her but because of the thick, tight feel of him inside of her. She can go as fast or as slow, as hard or as soft as she wants. And Caleb… he can take it. For her, he’d do it. He’d do anything.

“Take what you need…” he purrs. “And I’ll match you from below.”

After taking a breath for courage, she shifts her hips and quickly finds that not only is this insanely pleasurable, but being in control heightens her desire. Her fingers curl against the tight muscles of his abdomen, body canting as she rocks.

Eventually, Caleb’s hands guide her hips upward, so she’s well and truly bouncing on him now. And as she falls… Ohhhh… his hips thrust, and he rises to meet her, pressing so deep, tight, and perfect that it feels like she’s gonna come apart just like this.

But when his warm fingers slide over her hip and down the inside of her thigh, quickly teasing between her soaked folds to find that sensitive bud within, then she well and truly loses herself. As Caleb watches, as his fingers roll between her legs, as he thrusts—fast and hard—from below, she nears her peak, and it’s… Oh, God! It’s…

“Caleb,” his name falls from her lips, begging, pleading for him to help her, to give her what she needs. And he does. He always gives her exactly what she needs.

Finally, her orgasm hits, completely inelegant and overwhelming. Waves of pleasure radiate from her core outwards, seductive tendrils flowing through her body, making her clench, grind, and moan. Caleb grunts softly, brow furrowing some as if he’s holding himself back.

He wants to watch her as she comes with him inside her. She knows he doesn’t want to miss a second, but she needs the same from him, and even before her body’s completely finished its release, she’s moving, grinding slow and hard, as she pushes him higher.

Caleb groans, hands slipping to her hips as he rucks up into her, chest heaving as he pants. He looks frantic, eyes darting everywhere—her eyes, the flushed tips of her breasts, between her legs where they’re joined so intimately.

She runs her nails over his chest, faint lines marking his pale chest as he whimpers. She thinks he must be close. He looks… almost lost, but his body is fire-hot, and he’s so hard and thick inside of her that he’s almost too much to take.

Caleb lets out a shaky breath, cool fingers trailing over her skin before pressing low on her stomach. She pouts prettily as he teases her, body shimmying as he finally asks, “Can I… inside you?”

Her eyelids flutter, her body twisting in response to his sweet erotic entreat, and she can’t help but tease him. “Can you what, inside me?”

Caleb groans, fingers digging into her hips as he pants. “Come. I need to come.”

“Inside me?” she whimpers, breathless with her anticipation.

“God, yes. Please.”

Her head rolls back. It shouldn’t turn her on so much to hear him beg, but it does… God, does it ever. To tease them both, Emme shimmies atop Caleb, pressing him so tight and deep that they groan in unison.

He gasps her name, throat tight as his head rolls back. She loves that.

“Caleb… use me.”

“Wh-at? How?” he asks, breathless, needy, and edging closer and closer to his release. And she’ll give it to him, but only if he gives her what she wants first.

“Use your Evol.”

“My Evol?” he sputters.

She gives him a look. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never thought about what it would be like. I’ve thought about what it would be like.”

Caleb swallows thickly. “I won’t last.”

“I don’t want you to. All I want is for you to give me what I want and take what you need.”

His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, and almost haunted as he stares up at her, as thunderstruck as if he’s beholding a goddess. And then… his power softly swirls against her skin, as light as a feather before it wraps around her tight.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

He guides her, looking so beside himself that she almost feels bad, at least, until his wrist flicks and he drags her up until only the thick tip of him is pressing against her opening. One breath, one impossibly long pause, one needful moment stretches between them, until he lets her drop.

She groans as his length is quickly sheathed inside of her, her body canting forward before she can completely catch herself.

“Caleb,” she gasps his name.

He’s got her close again. So close that she can feel the pleasure tingling at the small of her back, in the tips of her nipples, in the sweet space between her thighs that he’s pressing up against—so hot, so hard, so tight.

With his cool hand possessively gripping the back of her neck, and her fingers curled into the tight muscles of his abdomen, Emme throws her head back, rolls her hips, and bounces hard on his length. In and out. In and out. In and out. She loses herself in a rhythm that’s just for the two of them.

It’s exactly what they want, and as she presses down hard, he rolls his hips to meet her, and it’s so much more than enough.

“Ahh… Caleb!”

“Baby…!”

Caleb moans and his hands clutch desperately at her as he pulls, holding her tight as he rolls his hips, grinding into her and enhancing the moment for them both. And with their bodies connected, and their powers blended, everything narrows to a point… before breathlessly expanding. Nothing remains but the wet-hot feel of their pleasure.

Finally, soft moans escape them in unison as the pleasure slowly subsides. Emme dips close, forehead pressing against his as they pant hard. His eyes are closed, brow furrowed. A tear escapes from behind his lashes, dripping along his cheek as she watches, half-dazed and entirely entranced.

“God.” His voice sounds choked, and Emme’s heart clenches, fingers softly brushing away his tears, even though he’s still half-hard inside of her.

“Are… you okay?” Maybe she hurt him? She did kind of lose herself at the end there…

Caleb chokes out a laugh. “I just… am having a hard time believing this is real, Pip-squeak.”

“Oh.”

Decades of knowing each other better than anyone else. Years and years of heartache, of wanting, of almosts and not quites. Now, they’re as close as two people can be and she feels… she feels… so weightless. So free. So right.

So, she tells him that. Tells him that she never wants to lose this—to lose him. Tells him everything she’s ever been too afraid to say, and then tells him how much she loves him, how painfully.

“It hurts, you know. To love someone this much. I think… I’ve always been afraid that I could lose you. And then, I did lose you.”

“Mmm,” he softly breathes. “I’m here now.”

“Forever?”

“No matter what happens, I’ll always find my way back to you.”

“Good,” she comments softly while resting her head on his chest. The sound of his still-frantic heartbeat fills her heart, soothing her as she continues, “You’re mine. You can only leave me if you have my say so, and you never will.”

She can feel Caleb’s shaky breath against her cheek. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Caleb urges her head up and back so she’s staring him straight in the eye. “Are you mine?”

“Caleb,” she replies, voice chiding. “You’re still inside me.”

“And?”

“And, what? If this isn’t a big deal to you, maybe I should wonder about how many times you’ve done this with other girls. I guess, you didn’t always call me to play the girlfriend, after all?”

He frowns, and quick as a flash, he’s got her on her back. He presses in, body hardening in response to the movement or maybe the way he’s got her splayed, arms above her head, hair spilled across the sheets, hips subtly shifting beneath him.

“There’s no one else in the world that I’ve ever wanted. No one I’d ever want to do this with other than you.”

“Then you need to hear me say it?” she asks while arcing her back, body shimmying back into his soft thrust.

“So badly.”

So needy… she thinks, but she doesn’t mind. She’s just the same, but part of her heart will always want to tease him, just a little. He’s her Caleb. She doesn’t want things to change completely, she just wants more and more and more. Her greedy heart asking for everything and still expecting more.

His eyes flutter, body rocking as his length hardens anew. It would be so easy to get distracted, but she’s not gonna chicken out now.

“I’ve loved you since the first moment we met when were kids. You’ve always been mine, and I’ve always been yours. For me, it’s always been you. Always and forever.”

His eyes close and he grins. Emme thinks she’s never seen him look quite so happy before, nor so free.

“Good. I think… I couldn’t handle it if it were any other way.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry because we belong to each other now and… ahh…”Her words trail off as Caleb’s body shifts, distracting her as he stirs within.

“I missed my evening workout,” he drawls.

Emme twists her hips, back arching as she purrs, “Well, get to it, then. Can’t have you slacking off now.”

“That a challenge, Pip-squeak?”

“Of course.”

His lip curls into a smug smile. “Well, let’s see who laughin’ by the end of this.”

And Emme, well, she’s not laughing. Screaming, crying out his name, begging for more? Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly it. By the time they’re finished with each other, limbs entangled, bodies hot, slick with sweat and desire, she’s well and truly tired.

“Feels like every single muscle in my body is sore.”

“You askin’ for a massage?”

“Mmm, a shower. Then sleep.”

“And then…?”

“You’re not slacking off, are you, Caleb?”

A soft laugh rolls up from his chest. “You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, hand tracing a path down her neck, over the soft curve of her breast before pressing low on her abdomen. “Especially here.”

She whimpers softly, and it’s almost as if she can still feel him inside of her, the phantom press of his thick length as he possesses her completely.

“Stop complaining.”

He shakes his head, damp tendrils sticking against his brow as he murmurs, “We both know, I’ll always give you everything that you want. So, shower first, Pip-squeak.”

“And then?”

“Once I’ve got you cleaned up,” he says, fingers skimming along the slick line of her sex. “I’ll get you messy all over again.”

If she wasn’t so damn tired, she’d have hoped right back on him and gotten him just as messy, but he’d loved her so completely, that Emme wasn’t certain she’d be able to walk, let alone ride him. But later… later… she’d have him. And he’d have her.

And he’d fill the needy spaces of her heart, just as she’d fill his, and together, they’d become whole—again and again, as many times as needed, for a hundred years, a thousand… forever and a day.

Author’s Notes:

HAHAHA I want to be clear that I got the idea before this BEFORE I saw Caleb’s new card, but now I’m smug about it because it’s actually IC for him to have security footage of her lmao. ANYWAY. This is loosely based son some great fan art I saw that has caleb mcfuckin loosing it at the laundry mat when he finds some sexy red panties. God bless fan artists, fr fr. Also, I am very certain I’m not the first nor I hope the last to write ‘Caleb is a panty sniffer’ fic but LMAO. I couldn’t stop myself. I MEAN THAT LITERALLY fingers just go go go of their own accord.

This is paraphrased from some in-game dialogue:

His face rubs against her wrist, words halting as he says, “Is that an order…?”

“Do I have the authority to command you?”

“Mmm… absolutely.”

“Then yes, it’s an order.”

This kind of skips around, not that I’m writing rationally here (literally just writing what I feel like I need to write to keep myself from going insane haha), but I still have some more planned for these two. Things are probably gonna get a lot busier, but I’ll see what I can fit in. Thanks so much for all of your support and for being so kind. Any mistakes are there because I need to keep humble lol.

Banner courtesy of cafekitsune!

[00valentina-writes00]

please please put the self harm fic back up, it was really good, and as someone who’s struggled before, it brought me some comfort. i really wish people just didn’t interact with things they don’t like, it’s appropriately tagged, and it’s not hurting anyone. i genuinely didn’t see anything wrong with it

You know what. Yeah I will. Here you go mamas <3

♡♥︎Grayson and Sevika catching you in a self harm relapse♥︎♡ (reuploaded)

Warnings: self-harm, mental health struggles, depression, angst, cutting, blood, sensitive topics

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to offend anyone (I already deleted it once), and I don’t recommend reading it if you’re not in a good place/can’t handle it. I wrote this because some people find comfort in reading things like this, and just because you don’t want to read it doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everyone. Please just don’t interact/read the post if you don’t like it. For those who do read it and find comfort in it, I hope things get better for you. It sucks being in a place where you mind is your worst enemy, and my heart goes out to all of you.

♡Grayson♡

The weight of the silence in the house feels like a tangible thing—thick and suffocating. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, not really seeing anything. The quiet hum of the air purifier and the faint creaking of the old floorboards are the only sounds breaking the stillness.

It’s hard to pinpoint when the darkness started creeping back in, but it’s here, and it feels heavier than ever. There’s a weight on your chest, as if something is sitting there, pressing you down until you can’t breathe.

You feel it—how the world looks like it’s slipping through your fingers, how you can’t keep your head above water. The struggle is so exhausting. You can feel the tears building, the tightness in your throat as they fight to spill over, but you swallow them down. You can’t burden her with it.

Not now. Not when she’s already dealing with so much.

Grayson’s voice echoes in your mind, the soft yet firm way she always tells you, “If you need anything, you just ask. Don’t shut me out.” But asking for help feels impossible when it feels like you’re crumbling from the inside out. You know she means it when she says it, and you know that deep down, she’ll always be there for you. She has been.

But she’s been working late recently. You know the weight of her job—how demanding it is. How much responsibility she carries on her shoulders, always so composed, so calm. She’s always the one who carries others, the one who stays steady when everything else feels like it’s about to fall apart.

And yet, here you are, falling apart in the silence of your own mind.

You press your hand to your arm, feeling the familiar pull of that dark urge. It’s like a quiet whisper, promising you release, promising relief. You know it won’t fix anything—it never does. But for just a moment, the thought of it feels comforting. Control, a semblance of control, over a mind that is spiraling.

The sharp sting of a blade against skin is an old friend, one that promises to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.

You grab the razor blade from the drawer by the bedside table, your hand shaking as you press the cool metal against your skin.

The moment it cuts into you, it’s like the world finally exhales. The pain is sharp, but it’s also grounding. It’s familiar. The blood wells up beneath the surface, the warmth of it seeping through your fingers as you press harder. The relief is fleeting but enough to keep you from drowning, at least for a little while.

You exhale shakily, closing your eyes as the tears finally come, hot and uncontrollable.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell yourself you’re better than this. It doesn’t matter how many promises you’ve made to Grayson that you’re okay. You’re not. You never are, and right now, the world is too loud, too chaotic, and all you want is for it to stop.

When you hear the door creak open, your heart skips a beat. Grayson’s home.

You panic for a moment, suddenly aware of the blood on your fingers, the rawness of your own skin. You want to hide it, to pull away from her, to bury it and pretend that everything is fine.

But it’s too late. She’s already stepped into the room.

Her gaze locks onto you immediately, and you see the shift in her expression—a flicker of concern, followed by something else, something darker. Her eyes move to your hand, still clutched around the razor, then slowly trail up to your face, where the tears are still streaming down.

“Baby…” Her voice is low, filled with a quiet kind of devastation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The words are trapped somewhere deep inside, stuck behind the lump in your throat. Grayson is across the room in an instant, her long strides making quick work of the distance.

She kneels down in front of you, gently taking your hand with the blade in it, pulling it away from your skin, and tossing it onto the bedside table. She holds you, and it feels like the weight of the world has shifted, the tension in your chest finally starting to ease. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you to her, as she presses her face into your hair, murmuring soft words of comfort that you can barely hear over the rush of blood in your ears.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into her, the warmth of her body and the scent of her cologne grounding you in a way nothing else does. Her arms tighten around you as she pulls you closer, as if trying to protect you from the storm inside your own mind.

“You don’t have to hide this from me,” Grayson says, her voice a mixture of pain and resolve. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

You can hear the underlying frustration in her tone, the helplessness that has started to creep in. She’s used to being in control, used to being the one who takes care of everyone else. But right now, she can’t fix this. She can’t make it go away. And that hurts her, you can see it in the way her brow furrows, in the way her hand gently caresses your arm as she inspects the damage.

Her fingertips brush against the cuts on your skin, and you flinch, not from pain, but from the guilt that rises in your chest. You can see it in her eyes—she’s not angry. She’s not disappointed. But she’s scared, and that’s almost worse than anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you with this. You have enough on your plate.”

Grayson’s grip tightens around you, pulling you closer, her voice soft but unwavering. “You’re never a bother. You’re my wife, and I love you. You’re never a burden.”

You bury your face into her shoulder, the tears coming faster now, as everything you’ve been holding inside comes crashing to the surface. The guilt, the shame, the weight of it all—everything that you’ve kept hidden from her, from yourself, spills out in a flood of emotion that feels impossible to stop.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I can’t stop. I can’t stop it. It’s too much, Grayson.”

“I know,” she murmurs, her hands gently smoothing over your back, offering comfort in the only way she knows how. “I know, baby. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her words are like a balm to the rawness inside you, but the emptiness lingers. You feel lost, adrift in the dark waters of your own mind, and nothing seems to anchor you. Not even Grayson, though you know she’d do anything to keep you safe.

But you don’t know how to be safe anymore. You don’t know how to feel okay when everything inside you feels broken.

Grayson doesn’t say anything for a while, just holding you tightly, letting you cry, letting the storm rage inside you until there’s nothing left to say.

You eventually feel her fingers gently tracing over your arms, inspecting the cuts more carefully now. The gentle touch sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but wince, both from the pain of your wounds and the fear that she’ll look at you with disgust.

But when you look up, her face is soft, her eyes filled with nothing but love and concern. There’s no judgment in her gaze, only a quiet understanding that cuts through the fog in your mind.

“You’re not broken,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re not broken. You’re just hurting. And I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.”

Her words sink in, the weight of them settling on your heart like a gentle, steadying force.

You don’t have to fix yourself. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Grayson will help you piece yourself back together, just as she always has.

♡Sevika♡

The quiet hum of the city’s underbelly surrounds you, but all you can hear is the pulse of your own heartbeat, the rhythmic rush of blood beneath your skin. Your breathing is shallow, erratic, barely keeping pace with the thoughts that whirl through your head, drowning everything in a familiar numbness. Every inch of you feels heavy—like the weight of the world is bearing down on your chest, leaving you gasping for air.

You’ve been here before. Staring down at your own hands, watching them tremble as they hold a blade. The same blade you’ve used countless times to try to carve out the pain, to silence the screams in your head. You think you’re past this—think that maybe you’ve come far enough, healed enough, but the reality is… you never really can outrun the shadows that lurk behind you.

Sevika’s voice still lingers in your mind, distant yet comforting. The low, gravelly tone that usually manages to settle your nerves is nowhere to be found. She’s been busy, off with Silco’s business. There’s always something. Something that pulls her away from you, and each time, the void in your chest grows a little larger. The silence between you two stretches thinner, and you start to wonder if you’re just another weight—something she has to carry, but doesn’t truly need. Maybe you were just a brief moment of comfort for her, something to fill the empty space in her own broken heart.

It’s pathetic, you think.

Your gaze flickers to the blade in your hand—sharp, gleaming, a perfect reflection of everything you’ve been trying to avoid. With a shaky breath, you press it to the skin of your arm, not sure what to expect, but desperate for release.

The first slice is almost too easy, like the blade already knows where to go, knows exactly how to break you. You hiss, biting back a gasp. The rush of blood that spills out is both soothing and terrifying, pooling around your wrist and dripping onto the floor. It feels like you’ve just cracked open a dam, and there’s no stopping the flood.

But you can’t stop. You need to feel it. The rush. The pain. The way it takes everything away, leaves you empty but somehow full at the same time. It’s familiar, comforting, like a twisted lover.

But this time, it’s different.

The bleeding doesn’t stop.

Your breath catches, the room beginning to spin as the crimson liquid flows freely, quicker than you can manage. Your vision blurs as the pulse of panic rushes through you. You try to hold pressure, but it doesn’t work. You try to stop it, but it’s like the blood has a mind of its own, pouring faster than you can keep up.

Why won’t it stop?

The panic sets in, clawing at your chest, a grip of cold fear tightening around your ribs. You try to move, to find something to hold against the wound, but your hands are trembling too violently, your fingers slick with blood. The room feels smaller, darker, and all at once, you feel the walls closing in. Every breath is a struggle, and every thought feels like a weight you can’t bear.

And then—footsteps.

Sevika.

Her voice, low and dangerous, cuts through the haze of panic. “What the hell is going on here?”

You don’t have time to answer before she’s in front of you, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of you, the blood dripping from your arm, the panic in your eyes. You want to say something, to apologize, but the words are tangled in your throat, a mass of guilt and shame. Her presence, usually so reassuring, now feels like an inescapable force, suffocating you with its intensity.

She doesn’t need to speak, her gaze enough to make you shrink back. But she doesn’t leave. She’s here. And that alone is enough to send a wave of emotion crashing over you—relief mixed with guilt, pain, and that overwhelming, gnawing feeling of needing something you can’t quite define.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but it’s like your body betrays you, unable to form a coherent thought.

Sevika’s gaze shifts to the blade in your hand, and for a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you two. Her jaw tightens, and her lips press into a thin line. But then her hands move, strong and steady, like the storm in her eyes isn’t enough to tear her apart. She takes your wrist with a force that makes you flinch, her fingers like iron bands around your arm, yet there’s no malice in her touch. Only a quiet fury—one that’s familiar to her, but so unlike you.

She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t ask you why. Instead, she moves quickly, her voice calm but filled with that hard edge of discipline. “Give me the fucking blade.”

You hesitate, feeling the cold, sharp steel pressing against your skin. For a moment, you wonder if this is it—if she’s finally tired of you. If this is where the weight of your brokenness makes her snap.

But instead of anger, you see something different in her eyes. Something sharp and raw. Something that looks like pain.

You don’t argue as she pries the blade from your trembling fingers. Her gaze never leaves you as she takes it, her lips pressed into a hard line. You can’t tell if she’s angry or worried, but you feel like you’re drowning in her gaze. In the silence between you two, the blood that still flows from your arm, the tightness in your chest, the burning shame—you feel it all. The weight of your struggle is too much for one person to bear, even if that person is Sevika.

She’s too quiet, too still, for too long. And you can’t take it.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice cracked and fragile. “I didn’t mean to… to make you worry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away, her face unreadable as she carefully presses a cloth against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The way her fingers move so methodically, the precision of her touch—it makes you feel like you’re falling apart even more.

“You didn’t want to make me worry?” she says, her voice quieter than usual, a soft growl of frustration in her words. “Then why the hell are you doing this to yourself?”

You shake your head, biting back the tears that threaten to spill over. You don’t have an answer. You never really did. It’s always been a struggle, hasn’t it? One that you fight alone, because nobody could possibly understand. Not her. Not anyone.

But Sevika doesn’t need answers. She doesn’t need you to explain yourself, not right now. All she needs is to fix this. To stop you from bleeding out.

When she’s sure the bleeding has slowed, Sevika pulls you close, her strong arms wrapping around you. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that she’s not pushing you away. She holds you tightly, her breath steady against your ear, and for a moment, you forget about the cuts on your skin, the mess you’ve made of yourself, the guilt that weighs you down.

She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Her grip tightens around you, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she speaks, her voice low and rough.

“Don’t do this again.”

You nod, feeling a sob rise in your chest. You want to tell her you’ll be okay, that you won’t fall back into the darkness. But you don’t know if you can promise that. And for the first time in a long while, you let the tears fall, not because you’re weak, but because you don’t have to hide from her anymore.

Sevika’s not going anywhere. She never has been, not really. Even if she can’t fix everything, even if she doesn’t have all the answers—she’s here.

[sirazaroff]

Hey :)! Just asking but how does Glinda hide her scars on the visible parts of her body(like hands or the one on her face). And if anyone ever noticed did Morrible say that Glinda got attacked by the Wicked Witch?(you don’t have to respond with a drawing :), hope you have a good day/night)

Hey there! Thank you for the inquiry, I know yall are waiting on me to say SOMETHING since first posting the two ideas. Such a tease I am~

I will make a disclaimer that my ignorant ass has yet to know what goes down in act 2. I have plans to change that soon enough. Here’s my current take on things but I’ll make an update if they no longer have any merit in the timeline.

And speaking of a timeline, just keep in mind that after she’s struck on the back, the final beats of act 2 start to play out: Glinda going to Kiamo Ko and witnessing Elphaba’s ‘death’. The Wizard leaving and Morrible tries to grab power before Glinda can, and then failing. Glinda takes over as ruler and changes Oz in Elphaba’s vision.

——————

So, why does Glinda cover her scars?

It’s cause of her image as hope to the masses. The Good Witch can’t be appearing all busted up like that, people will ask questions. They’ll be afraid that the Wizard can’t actually help them, or at the least that Glinda can’t. Truthfully she’d rather people believe the truth but between the threat of more punishments from Morrible, and the fact that she’s putting her own public image and safety at risk, it’s better to just hide the scars. No one ever really sees them and so they never question it.

——————

Now let’s talk about how she covers them.

My thought process is that with her hands she would hide those with gloves during the frequency of the beatings. Gauze underneath, hoping they won’t bleed thru while she’s away from the palace. When Morrible eased up on this, Glinda switched over to covering them with makeup since they could finally heal over.

For her lip, Morrible gave her 3 days to figure out how to deal with the fresh wound before throwing her back into the spotlight. The pain of this caused Glinda to resent smiling. This scar would also be hidden with makeup once healed.

Now once she’s struck by lighting, all of this goes out the window. Glinda is quite literally bedridden for a few weeks and her absence is dully felt. Ozians are aware something happened at the palace, but they’re not sure what and who did it. In that instance it was easier to just blame everything on the Witch and rile up the public. (This narrative falls apart after Morrible tries to make for a power grab. Ozians will learn that it was she who hurt Glinda).

When Glinda can finally stand again, she’s in no shape to work. Of course that doesn’t stop the Wizard from having Glinda stand out on her balcony and address the worried masses.

From here on out Glinda doesn’t cover up any of her scars, only her demeanor. Even if she wanted to cover her back, it’s too large and touching the entry point sends a jolt that feels as sharp as when she was first stricken. She’s riddled with constant pain and walks with a limp, but when in public she acts like everything is peachy and is full of smiles. Glinda does this mostly because the people need a leader and if she shows her true ailments, there’s bound to be a threat for power by those taking advantage. Years down the line she’ll eventually retreat within the palace, unable to physically do much anymore but drink in an effort to numb the pain.

[teslasucks37]

hi tess!! i cant stop thinking about bratty charlie so i’m gonna put my thoughts in ur inbox bc i dont feel like making an entire post :(

★ he gets so whiny when he wants attention but doesn’t want to outright ask for it. like he’ll drape himself over you, sigh dramatically, nuzzle into your neck, but if you ask what’s wrong, he’s like, “nothing.” (liar.)

★ if you ignore him for too long, he starts getting bratty—little huffs, rolling his eyes, maybe even teasing you just to get a reaction. “oh, so you do care about me? that’s crazy, ‘cause for a second there, i thought i was just some guy sitting next to you, suffering.”

★ the worst (best) part? he loves being put in his place, even if he acts like he doesn’t. if you grab his jaw, make him look at you, maybe even give him a warning? his breath hitches. suddenly, he’s not running his mouth anymore.

★ “you like acting up, hm?” and he whimpers the second you pull his hair, gripping your wrist like he can’t help himself.

★ he’s still bratty, though. even when he’s desperate, he tries to push his luck. “didn’t know you liked me like this,” he teases, even though his hands are gripping at your waist like he needs to keep you close or he’ll fall apart.

★ “was just messing with you, angel, you don’t gotta—” and then he’s gasping, tilting his head back because he wants you to keep going, he needs you to.

★ you know he’s gone when his words start getting all slurred and soft, voice going breathy every time he whimpers your name. his hands tremble when they grab at your hips, his body practically melting against yours.

★ “please—just—fuck, just a little more, please, baby, i’ll be good, promise—” he’s begging at this point, barely able to finish his sentences.

★ you can tell when he’s really, truly gone because he just starts babbling. “you're so good to me, feel so fuckin’ good, please—” and his head is spinning because he was just being a brat, but now? he’d do anything for you.

okay so basically this is an entire post but I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO BE THIS LONG?? i’m sorry tess, love you though <3

Dw I’ll post and boost it for u bbg cause GOD DAMN I love ur writing so much!!!

The dramatic sighing is so real he would so do that!!!

AND THE BABBLING GOD he’s just a baby I love him 😔

[jhdyuiee]

Red is for Love

ꨄ︎ pairing: bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

ꨄ︎ warning/tags: smut!, unprotected sex, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), kissing/making out, dirty talk, food play, breast play, smacking, rough jae, pet names/name calling

ꨄ︎ w.c: 1.7k

ꨄ︎ a.n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAEHYUN MY BELOVED! 🤍

“so, what do you think?,” you asked the man in front of you, jaehyun, who had his eyes trained on you and every curve of your body.

you were decked out in a new lingerie set, a red one you’d purchased recently. not only to commemorate valentines, but jaehyun’s birthday as well. you were like a beautifully wrapped gift.

wearing a laced bra that had hearts carved in your nipple area, a thin laced thong, and a garter belt attached with red tights. purely decked in red— in love.

“fuck…” jaehyun sultry groans.

he clenched his fist, trying not to get easily tempted by you. but you were just too alluring to him.

“come on, let me give you one last treat,” you playfully said as you sank to your knees.

you held eye contact with jaehyun, your hands working their way to his zipper. you tease his member through his pants, feeling it hardened already. your hands go to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling his briefs down as well until his member is out and free.

you inched your face closer, getting the delicious whiff of him, sliding your tongue from his balls to his tip. jaehyun’s hands, too, slowly made their way to your hair— gripping a fist of hair.

your moans vibrated along his member as you tried fitting him inside your mouth, your teeth barely grazing him. and once you bottomed him, you began moving your mouth along his member even quicker. jaehyun uses his hands to guide you.

you flutter your eyes to get a sight of jaehyun, a beautiful sight of him falling apart just by feeling your mouth engulfing his cock. your cheeks hollow with the deeper and quicker you took him in your mouth, occasionally bringing your tongue to lick alongside his shaft.

“shit, feels good baby,” jaehyun groans. “but p-please come here.”

jaehyun tries calling you over, but you’re too lost in his cock and making him feel good. you could tell he was almost close by the way he twitched inside your mouth. you couldn’t stop now.

“fuck, i told you, come here,” jaehyun says more aggressively.

and when you don't, he grips your hair tighter and removes you from sucking him off. you whined, pouted up at the man with tear stained eyes.

“such a cock slut, you can’t be away from it for one second,” jaehyun chuckles.

god, you loved this side of him. the side he showed nobody, but you. it turned you on, your cunt twitching at his rough words.

“how can i? i mean look at it,” you replied, kissing his cock repeatedly while maintaining eye contact with him.

he sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes for a split moment. “lap,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear.

and you knew better than to keep him waiting, but something within you couldn’t stop from teasing his cock one last time. stroking it with your hand, licking up his pre-cum one last time before you gave in and straddled his lap.

jaehyun had you right where he wanted, his fingers digging into your hips before going to the curve of your ass. his fingers fondled your ass, stretching your cheeks apart before bringing a hand to roughly smack you, jolting you forward. your arms around his neck as he repeats the action until your ass is nothing but a deep shade of red.

“look at me,” he whispers into your ear.

you moaned, biting your bottom lip as you locked eyes with him. he lunges forward, lips pressing on yours and tongue intruding in. the kiss is nothing but a mess, sloppy exploring inside one another.

all the while his hand touches your thong, pulling it up and you begin bucking your hips as you find the pleasurable sensation he’s giving you just from using your panties. you moaned into his mouth, growing wetter and hungrier to get him inside you.

“pl-please!” you begged, “pu-put it inside.”

jaehyun smiles as he continues devouring you, letting go of your panties– whining at the loss of sensation. you feel his hardened member rubbing you from the back of your ass, feeling his pre-cum too and the way he twitched.

“someone’s eagered,” you teased, pulling away from him.

your hand reaches behind, finding his cock. you lift yourself up, removing your panties first before lining yourself up with his cock. his tip slowly going inside, his cock stretching out and fitting snugly inside you.

jaehyun throws his head back on the couch as he feels your gummy walls hug him tightly. your pussy too addicting already.

you lift yourself up and down his cock, moaning louder with ever thrust. jaehyun just watches intensely, eyes moving from your pleasured face to where you two connected. his fingers making crescent moons on the fat of your ass.

jaehyun helps you on his cock, helping you bounce more quicker on his cock. your tits bouncing along with you, enticing jaehyun. he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his mouth around your nipple, teeth biting down on your areolas. even the laced bra couldn’t stop him from marking you, the fabric slightly tearing from his bites. yet that was the least of your concerns right now.

his cock began twitching inside you, and your pussy tightened around him even more.

“jae-jaehyun,” you moaned his name, hand going to grip his hair.

he looks up from where he played with your tits, eyes fully lustful. “cum baby, let me feel you around my cock,” he groans.

he helps you, fucking into your harder. shouting his name shortly after as you felt yourself release around his cock, jaehyun followed in suit shortly after when he felt how deliciously you wrapped around his cock from your orgasm.

you fall onto him, wrapping your arms around him. your and his pants are the only sound in the room. yet you couldn’t even relax for a minute before you felt jaehyun lift you up.

“wh-what?” you questioned confusedly.

jaehyun doesn’t answer, holding you in his arms with his cock still attached inside you. it wasn’t until he finally laid you down on a cool surface that you realized where you were: the dining table.

you laid there, feeling as jaehyun began taking himself out of your sweet cunt. “mmm,” you whined as you no longer felt him inside you.

jaehyun leaves for a while, walking to his right. you watched from where you laid, watched as he grabbed the birthday cake that was still on the table. jaehyun brings it over, looking down on you. and just when you were going to question what he was going to do with it, he swipes his finger on some frosting and brings it to your nipple. he does the same to the other nipple, coating you in cake frosting before putting the cake back down on the table.

walking back over to you, he pries your legs open. he holds you with his hands, slipping himself back inside. you arched your back off the table, his thrusting going in deep and hard. his tip hitting your cervix, kissing it with every thirst he gives you.

jaehyun bends down, still thrusting, mouth wrapping around your frosting-coveered tit to lick it up. his saliva dripping down the side as he devours your tit, kissing his way to the other one, giving it the same treatment. his hand moving under you, unhooking your bra and removing it.

your tits bounced in his face as he continued thrusting into you. he couldn’t stop his mouth from finding your tits again, squeezing them together as he flicked your areolas. Pouding even harder, fucking you into the table, you wrapped your legs around him.

his fingers going down to your clit, rubbing the neglected bud. and before you knew it you released once more around him. you cling to him through your orgasm, chanting his name and mindlessly kissing his face.

jaehyun too meets his high not long after, coating your walls white once more. his cum was spilling from your pussy, you’d been overstuffed. the sight only turned jaehyun on all the more, he wasn’t close to stopping.

he has you against the wall, your hands against the wall as you bended over for him. his hands rub your ass gently, spreading your cheeks apart so he could go inside. the spilled cum, getting pushed back inside.

his fingers gripping onto your waist as he thrust into you, tip finding your g-spot. his thrust quickened, shoving himself into you deeper until he hit your womb.

your legs grew weak, buckling inward. it didn’t take much until you collapsed on the floor, jaehyun still fucking you from behind. he held you up, and leaned in. he kisses on your exposed neck, marking you down your back.

jaehyun returns behind you, skin slapping throughout the room. his pace is not faltering as he continues to abuse your insides. and at this point you’ve damned lost yourself. you were nothing but a moaning, crying mess that unraveled at the sensation of his cock.

“i’m cu-cuming,” you moan.

jaehyun feels your walls clench, his own cock twitching. he slaps your ass, it jiggles from the impact of his hand and thrust. a sight for sore eyes.

“cum with me baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“fu-fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back as you gushed around his cock again and he painted you with his seed.

your body trembled underneath him, overstimulated cunt quivering. jaehyun slips out, his cum spilling out in loads.

he grabs hold of you, barely consciously feeling as he carries you to the bedroom. he lays you down on the bed before it dips down on his weight.

jaehyun’s lips find yours as he kisses you with much heat and possessiveness. you, too, mindlessly explore his mouth. your tiredness soon becomes a distant feeling as you two soon keep going at it, round after round.

his sweet birthday surprise lasting until the next morning. and by the times you two finally hit the sheets, you were stuffed, overloaded, with his seed.

and unbeknownst to you and jaehyun, a new life had just been conceived. jaehyun’s final gift– well made– our child.

© jhdyuiee

2025. 02. 16