#can't wait to explore this man (all of them really) from the inside out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

reckless

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, aged up!rafe (28), age gap (reader is 20), reader kinda dumb and stupid tbh, breaking and entering but actually technically she didnt break anything so just entering, urban exploring

“stay away from that house.” your friend warns, following your eyesight to get light shining from only one window, the rest of the house covered in shadow.

“why?” you question, curiosity growing.

“some asshole lives there. i guess he got real rich when he was young and now he spends all his time inside hiding. the whole island hates him but nothing he did was bad enough to land him in prison…” your friend gives you a serious look. “or at least nothing they can prove.”

you're new to the outer banks, but she already knows your personality. you're defiant and confident, afraid of nothing.

it's why despite her warnings the next night you're scaling up the fence and hopping over to the other side. you note the well taken care of yard, whoever this guy is must still employ a lawn crew.

you keep your footsteps light but unhurried as you walk around the exterior of the enormous house, still just the one window with a light on, like no one else has been in any other part of the home for a long time.

you figure a house like this might have security, but you live only a block away and would certainly get to your house before any cops would show up.

you peer in a few windows, but it's too dark inside to really make out anything. you make your way into the backyard, looking down the long dock to see a yacht. you consider exploring that first before shaking your head and focusing back in on the house.

in your old city, you had a habit of breaking into places. not to steal or damage anything, just for the thrill of getting in and looking around, knowing you're not supposed to be there.

you peer in through the glass doors. it's not that late, only 11pm, but you figure the old man who lives here must already be upstairs and hopefully asleep as you grip the handle.

you wait to hear an alarm from just your touch, but when the house remains silent, you attempt to turn the handle, surprised and happy that it's completely unlocked as you slide it open.

you step into the living room, looking around at the intricate and clearly expensive decorations. your friend was definitely right about this guy being rich, but of course he is if he lives in a neighborhood like this.

“damn.” you mutter to yourself, stepping closer to a fancy vase sat on a table. you purposely leave the glass door open in case you need to make a quick escape out.

your eyes take in every piece of art hung on the wall and gold detailed lamps as you head further into the house, peeking into rooms as you quickly map out the layout. you note the stairs in the center hallway leading up, able to tell there's one light on and deciding quickly to avoid it.

you make like the rush of breaking into places, but you certainly don't like getting caught as you tiptoe into the kitchen next. out of pure curiosity, you open a couple cabinets to find them well stocked.

you focus in on the fridge next. you don't intend to steal but maybe this guy has a couple bottles of beer that won't be missed.

you frown when you realize it's mostly healthy food and energy drinks as you close the fridge, practically jumping out of your skin when you realize there's a tall man with his arms crossed, leaning against the cabinet.

“what are you doing here?” you yell, backing up and putting the island between you and him.

“bold of you to ask me that considering you're the one breaking into my house.” the man's voice is easy going and gentle despite the circumstances.

“your house?” you look the guy up and down. “i thought the guy who lived here was old.”

he moves to the island, placing himself directly in the middle so you can't bolt away, a movement you're very aware of.

“and what made you think that?” he questions. it's hard to tell in the low light, only the faint glow of buttons on the fridge and a bit of moonlight creeping in, but he looks young. your guess is late 20s or early 30s, not like the senior citizen you were picturing.

“my friend told me some asshole-” you cringe at the bad choice of words but continue on. “lives here who got rich when he was young.”

“hm, yeah that does sound like me.” the guy hums. “so what, you were gonna steal from me?”

“no.” you quickly shake your head. “i don't steal, i have no need. i just… like urban exploring.” you decide on saying.

“mmm, isn't that usually exploring abandoned places?” he questions, somehow still carrying on the conversation so naturally, like you're an invited guest rather than a trespasser.

“i thought this place was basically abandoned. like i said, thought you were old.” you shrug.

“well, im only 28, so if you consider that old.” he crosses his arms, muscles bulging.

“im 20.” you say, swallowing thickly.

you can see the gleam in the man's teeth as he smiles. “interesting… come with me.”

his command is so effortless, you find your feet moving before your mind catches up, following him deeper into the house and up the stairs.

“what are you going to do with me?” you ask, worrying he's going to call the cops. your parents would be pissed if only a week after they move you out of the big city you get arrested again.

“did your friend happen to tell you why i stay in this house?” he hums, opening a door and beckoning you in. you quickly realize this is the bedroom with the lights always on.

“um, just that you did something and no one likes you.”

“that's exactly right, even though i did nothing wrong. i only ever wanted to protect my family.” you see anger briefly take over his features as he relieves whatever memory that made him so hated. “but still, it's hard being lonely.”

he takes a couple steps forward, swinging the door shut behind him to keep the two of you in there, alone. “it's why id like your company…”

“y/n.” you mumble your name. you don't bother to give a fake name.

“y/n.” the name rolls seamlessly off his tongue, like a purr. “im rafe.”

“what do you mean by company, rafe?” now that you're in the light and can get a good look at him, you're hoping it's what you're thinking.

“isn't it obvious?” he quirks his head to the side. “i want you to sleep with me.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're certainly not inexperienced or against sleeping with random guys, even if your friend did warn you about him. you've already gone two whole weeks without getting anything, and you're starting to feel a little high strung.

“perfect.” rafe crosses past you, placing himself on the edge of the. neatly made bed. “undress.”

his command is once again so simple and effective that your hands begin moving instantly, pulling off your tank top to reveal your bright pink bra before sliding your shorts down next to show off the matching underwear.

you turn your back towards rafe and look over your shoulder as you slide your panties down, revealing your bare ass and pussy before kicking off your sandals.

you walk over to rafe slowly, a smile on your face as you undo the last piece of clothing covering you and let your bra drop to the floor.

“fuck, you're sexy.” rafe leans forward and grabs you, hands gripping your ass, squeezing the plump flesh there. he doesn't bother to wait for you to recover as he sits you onto his lap, cunt being pressed into his thigh as his mouth devours yours.

you can feel his need in the kiss, how starved he is from touch as you begin to kiss back, hands rubbing all over his front.

you only briefly stop the kiss to yank his shirt off. you're not surprised by his muscles, you could tell how perfectly built he was even in the dark kitchen.

rafe begins to slide your pussy against his pants, wetting his thigh as your clit drags against the material.

“fuck, you're already so wet.” rafe moans into your mouth. you don't pause to tell him that you always get a little bit wet in excitement when breaking into a new place.

“let me blow you.” you slide off, already missing the feeling on your pussy as you pull at rafes pants. he lifts his hips to help you and you waste no time, pulling his underwear down as well.

rafes cock pops up, hard and ready for attention. you push his thighs open with your hands so you can nestle between his legs, smiling as you watch a bead of precum from before licking it clean.

“god.” rafe groans, a hand fisting in your hair, tangling his fingers into the strands. “it's been so long since someone else has touched me.”

you feel bad for rafe in that moment, but it's quickly forgotten in favor of wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and giving it an intense suck, wanting to show him a truly good time.

you begin to bob your head, slowly taking more and more of his length into your mouth. he's not the biggest you've ever gotten with, but his girth certainly makes up for it as you get used to him pushing at the walls of your throat.

you'll certainly need more attention to your pussy to be able to take him as you reach down and rub your fingers against your clit, wanting to jump on his cock the second you're done blowing him.

“how are you only 20?” rafe asks, talking mostly to himself considering your mouth is occupied. “you suck dick so well.”

you don't want to comment that you've had lots of experience, but you have a feeling he won't judge you for it. so many guys sleep around yet want every girl to be a virgin, and that's certainly something you don't subscribe to.

with a final push, you're able to take rafe all the way down as you nuzzle your nose into his skin, gagging slightly but able to hold for a decently long time before you need to pull off to take a deep breath.

“come up here, baby.” rafe says, tugging your hand that isn't still playing with your pussy. “want to fuck you.”

you wipe your mouth before standing up, glad you weren't on your knees for long as you move onto the bed.

“fuck me good, daddy.” you purr out, staying on your hands and knees and swaying your ass to entice rafe as he moves behind you.

“oh, i will baby.” rafe rubs his cock through your folds, not bothering to offer to put on a condom when you so clearly don't care.

rafe teases you, pressing slightly against your entrance before going back to rubbing against you until you're frustrated and aching. you're about to open your mouth to complain, to tell him to hurry it up, when his cock plunges inside of you in one quick motion that has you screaming out.

“oh, fuck!” you squeal as rafe instantly begins pounding into you.

rafe smiles as he looks towards the window, slightly cracked. he hopes the neighbors hear your screams and moans of pleasure and learn that he's not just willing to stay inside for the rest of his life. no, rafe is crafting his revenge against the town and when the time comes, they will all regret the way they treated him.

rafe looks down at you as he thrusts into you, your head hung forward and curls bouncing with every movement as he punishes your cunt.

“shit.” rafe groans, pulling out to quickly flip you onto your back.

his mouth meets yours just as his cock reenters you, kissing you wildly while he thrusts without abandon, letting himself loose on you.

rafe can feel himself swelling inside of you and tries his best to hold back from cumming, fingers reaching to your clit to focus on your pleasure before his own, wanting to extend this as long as possible.

“god, you feel so good.” you moan out, jaw slackened even as rafe continue to kiss around your mouth, eyes glossed over in pure pleasure.

“yeah?” rafe smiles. “you gonna cum for me?”

“mhm. keep- keep rubbing.” you tilt your head back as he swipes over your clit, back and forth, building you up while his cock fills out your insides.

“come on, baby.” rafe moans out, kissing you again, unable to stop even though he wants to hear your moans. his hips move faster and faster until he can't hold back anymore, pulling out and releasing all over your stomach in long ropes.

you squeal out as he pinches your clit, triggering your own orgasm as your entire body shakes, back arching off the bed.

“fuck!” you shout. “rafe!”

you both flop against the mattress, breathing heavily as you recover, pussy dripping wet onto his blankets.

“thanks for the company.” rafe smiles, causing you to laugh.

“yeah, always happy to stick around.” you giggle, leaning into his side. there's certainly no shame cuddling up to him after what you just did.

“would you… would you come back tomorrow?” rafe asks, pushing a strand of hair off where it was sticking to your face.

“first week in a new town and i already found myself a fuck buddy? hell yeah ill come back tomorrow.” you kiss rafe quickly before standing up off his bed, putting your tanktop and shorts back on but leaving your wet panties and bright bra on the floor.

“but have pizza, im a classy girl after all, i only let you fuck me once before buying me dinner.” you walk out of the bedroom to rafes deep chuckle.

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highway-143 · 4 months ago

Text

when ice cracks- park sunghoon

genre: fluff, smut, strangers to enemies (?) to lovers?

pairing: figure skating teacher!sunghoon x female!reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01

word count: 5k

now playing: like that- babymonster

(proofread)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to harm any idol in the story

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

"do you know any good figure skating teachers?"

"what?"

"figure. skating. teachers." you say, your fists planted firmly on elissa's desk as you try to get your best friend to help you.

"bitch, can you see i'm busy?" she asks, gesturing to her open computer and papers scattered across the white surface of her desk.

"ughhh" you groan, knowing she was right. studying to be an engineer had to be more time consuming than normal work. at least the major you had picked was easy enough... and you were in senior year.

"wait, figure skating? since when have you been interested in that?"

"since i decided clown training wasn't an option." you say sarcastically.

elissa rolled her eyes. "ha ha."

"because i want to explore new hobbies."

"i heard from my sister's friend that park sunghoon is starting lessons." she says.

"am i supposed to know who that is?"

"you don't?" she asks, looking shocked.

"no..."

"he's really famous. made it to the olympics, and he's number 7 in all of korea. he's only our age too."

elissa starts typing on her computer, turning it around to show you pictures of a handsome man, either on the ice or in a suit at awards ceremonies.

and damn, he was gorgeous.

he had a sharp jawline, accentuating his full lips and perfect nose, a small mole dotting its side and one under his eye. his hair fell in swoops, framing his face in a way yours could never.

he was beautiful.

and pricey.

you look at the cost of his lessons, $75 per session. who had that kind of money?!

apparently you did.

because when you apply for three classes on his website and put in your card information, your bank account cries a little.

you reassure your conscience with "its okay, all you need is basic training. and if the lessons aren't good, you can always find someone else."

right?

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

you pull into the parking lot, your old car sliding into an empty spot.

reaching into the backseat, you pull out your skates. last week, you explored amazon for the best and cutest pair you could find, coming across these. white faux leather with light blue threading and laces, and shiny silver blades, that currently held covers so you wouldn't cut your fingers.

you carry the skates out of the car, and into the rink. the outdoor arena was perfect. not too big, but enough space for you to be comfortable.

the crisp winter air reddened your cheeks and nose as you walk to the small tented pavilion next to the rink.

when you step inside the room, you find sunghoon.

and you can't speak anymore.

you cant think.

you cant move.

sunghoon looks up at you from his seat on a bench, his skates half tied and his hair slightly hiding his eyes.

you gape at him as he stares at you, looking you up and down.

"what are you wearing?"

"h-huh?" you say, unsure of what he means.

"your clothes. you should wear something less bulky for your top. it's more aerodynamic."

you look down at your thick coat. "i... i didn't know-"

"obviously not. i assume you're a beginner?" he says flatly, his eyes boring into yours, no warmth in them.

"i mean, yeah. thats why i'm taking lessons, right?" you say, slowly getting more and more pissed off.

"yeah, but even untrained skaters could figure that out."

you curl your hands into fists around your skates. who did he think he was?

"i reccomend leggings and a thin sweater for next time. now, get your skates on and we can start. hurry up." he finishes tying his skates and stands easily on them, walking smoothly over to his bags.

you sit on the bench and start putting on your skates, tying them with the pastel laces.

sunghoon steps closer to you, watching you tie the second.

"you're doing it wrong." he scoffs.

you stare at him as he looks at your skates. "care to enlighten me on how i'm doing it wrong? you ask.

"feel how loose they are? not going to support your ankles, are they?"

you bite back sarcastic comments. "well i tied them the best i can."

sunghoon crouches down, one knee on the floor as he grabs your foot. your cheeks heat up as he unties your laces.

"terrible skates. i swear, half of you prioritize looks over functionality."

"what's wrong with them!?" you ask, fed up with his critical reviews of everything.

"the material isn't very supportive, the pads on the soles are too thin, and the blades are duller than they should be." he says simply. "maybe you should do better research next time."

you roll your eyes. "sorry i bought the wrong thing. they were affordable. thank heavens, because your classes practically killed my bank account."

"i didn't ask you to take these classes, did i?" he says, moving to untie your other skate. "if it was really that big of a deal, you would've gone somewhere else. and considering you signed up for three classes, you had enough money."

you sputter, trying to find the words to tell him you literally had no clue about anything figure skating related.

"okay, so i bought the wrong thing. i have never skated before, how am i supposed to know what to wear or buy or do?"

he smirks at you, standing back up. "maybe if you scrolled a little farther on the website, you'd find links to everything. and tips for newbies. but you didn't. its all on you, y/n"

you sit in shock, his words like a slap to your ego.

sunghoon walks away, still looking smug. "stand up, newbie."

you struggle to your feet, ankles slightly bending outward as you rise. you had to admit, the support to them was very helpful. if sunghoon hadn't tightened them, you'd probably have fallen already.

without looking back at you, sunghoon speaks. "told you they needed to be tighter. fix your legs. don't stand like a baby deer, straighten your knees and stand up. don't let your ankles pop out, and keep your feet locked straight ahead."

you do as he says, and suddenly, your stance is perfect. you don't wobble or fall over, you stand tall, feeling proud of yourself already.

sunghoon struts back over to you. "lets get on the ice. remember, ankles locked. flex your calves if you have to."

"okay," you slowly take steps forward, growing more confident as you walk farther away from the bench. "so what are we doing today?" you ask sunghoon, who is already stepping onto the rink, gliding away as he circles around the ice.

"the basics, newbie" he calls, swerving and spinning while you cautiously step onto the slippery surface.

you place one foot onto the ice, and slowly put weight on it, getting ready to bring your other foot on. but as you lift it up, your foot on the ice slides away from you, and you grip onto the railing to pull back.

sunghoon appears in front of you, another smirk plastered over his devastatingly handsome face. "need help, newbie?" he asks, looking at your sliding foot.

"no thanks, i've got it," you say, trying and failing to get your whole body onto the rink.

after your fourth try, sunghoon is holding back laughter. you glare at him, foot slowly sliding away again.

"want some advice?" he asks, smirking.

you nod, pulling your foot back in.

"when you're ready to step your other foot in, don't push forward with the one on the ice. try to shift your weight to the side. the skate doesn't naturally want to move that way, so it'll basically lock in."

you push your weight sideways, and find yourself with both feet on the rink. you steady yourself with the short wall surrounding the edge, and look over at sunghoon.

"look at that. now, lets really get started. let go of the wall." he says, skating away from you.

letting your fingers pull away from the surface, standing up straight, ankles and knees locked.

"now what?"

"do you want to move forward?" sunghoon asks, twirling figure eights in the center of the rink.

"yeah."

"push your weight to the side on one foot, like before, and then move forward with the other. then switch sides."

when you slowly start skating away from the wall and towards sunghoon, you feel a smile growing on your face.

the rest of the lesson progresses very slowly, you struggle with speeding up and some of the techniques sunghoon tries to teach you, and sunghoon's temper rises higher and higher, but he doesn't break.

not yet.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

the front door creaks open as you walk inside, and you call out for your roomate. "elissa! are you home?!" you yell, setting your skates by the front door.

"no, i'm in the bahamas." you hear her say from the kitchen.

"so funny," you roll your eyes, moving into the kitchen to find elissa making a bowl of cereal. "guess who i met today?"

"ronald mcdonald?"

"bitch-" you lightly slap her shoulder. "no, park sunghoon."

"and? did you make a fool of yourself at the lesson?"

you roll your eyes and sit down at the island counter. "no. well... as a beginner, not much. but maybe a little"

elissa sits across from you, chewing on her cheerios. "you're going for more, right?"

"might as well. i signed up for the lessons. but not gonna lie, sunghoon is kind of a jerk."

"really?"

"yeah," you say, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. "he was critical of everything and very demeaning... like it's my fault i signed up for classes that are for all levels, including beginners. sorry."

elissa chuckles. "but is he cute in person?"

"very," you say, eyes glazed, your mind picturing how beautiful sunghoon looked at the lesson.

especially when he was on his knees for you.

nope, you can't go there. never gonna happen. he practically hates you.

"... said he was really nice." says elissa.

you were too zoned out to catch what she said. "hmm?" you ask, shaking the image of sunghoon out of your mind.

"i said, my sister's friend said he was really nice. he was a beginner too. so i don't know why sunghoon is treating you weird."

"yeah, i don't know..." you say, drifting back into your sunghoon dreamland.

his hair covering his eyes, his large hands on your skates, holding the blue laces, veins sticking out, his lips that were so easily kissable, so out of reach. every part of him was perfect.

except for his attitude.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

one week later, you and your car trundle into the parking lot.

you walk into the tent, and sunghoon is sitting on the bench, tying his laces like last week.

"hey." you say, and just like before, he looks up at you through his hair.

"hey," he looks you up and down, again, and nods. "better choice this time." he says, gesturing to your black leggings and army green sweater. "maybe this week you will actually be better. oh wait, it's your skills that are bad."

you frown and sit down on the bench, sliding your skates on and tying them as tight as possible.

"still too loose," sunghoon comments. "give me your foot." he reaches for your leg and pulls your foot into his lap. you have to swivel your body to face him, and your cheeks heat up again. his fingers on your skin felt like fire.

he ties your laces in silence, and when he moves to grab your other foot, you hear a sharp gasp.

"ah, shit," he says, grabbing his hand.

you look up and see his finger cut open, a trickle of blood falling from the slice. his other hand holds it tightly, trying to lessen the blood flow, and you notice a small part of your blade wasn't covered by the gaurd.

you jump up, feeling guilty. "i'm so, so, so, so sorry," you say. "do you have any band aids?"

"in my bag." he says, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking the blood off.

and you couldn't help but stare at the way his lips molded around his thumb as you hand him the bandage. how they wetted his finger so perfectly.

he catches you caught in a trance, a quizzical look upon his face. you immediately look away, embarrassed.

when he had tied the band aid around his finger, he grabs your other leg and reties the laces. you watch his expert fingers dance across your skate, every accidental brush to your skin causing an unsolicited reaction that displayed itself as a redness to your face.

you and sunghoon stand, and he turns to give you his trademark smirk. "you ready, newbie? maybe this week will be better."

with a nod, you follow sunghoon to the rink. this time, you easily step on the ice and move away, but you're no match for sunghoon, who starts twirling with ease.

"this week, we should start an easy routine. it'll help you learn more of the basics."

"okay," you nod along with his words. "what is it?"

"it's a song i choreographed. it's called XO. english or korean version?"

"i dont care," you say, "whatever you think is best."

sunghoon grabs his phone and puts the song on. the instrumentals start and he moves to the center of the rink.

"i'll show you how it's supposed to look, and then we can get started."

you smile and lean back against the wall, and the song starts.

sunghoon starts moving on the ice, and you're easily mesmerized by his skill. he pirouettes and leaps around the rink, and you find yourself caught in his beauty, skill, and grace.

the song plays in the background, the lyrics in korean pairing well with the english ones.

so just say O babe, 저 달을 향해 날아가 볼래

sunghoon twirls back to the center, and bows. when he rises, you can see the gleam in his eyes.

he really loves this.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

after the lesson, you step out of the rink. your legs are sore and a little shaky, and your palms hurt from how many times you fell. you had lost count at this point.

sunghoon walks into the tent, catching you staring at your reddened hands.

"seven" he says.

"what?"

"you fell seven times... and just a tip, don't have your fingers all spread out when you fall. it's dangerous, especially when there are other people on the ice."

"okay," you start untying your knotted skates. "thanks for the lessons. you're a really good skater. probably the best i've ever seen"

sunghoon nods. "thank you. and you're pretty good for a newbie. you learn quickly."

you laugh cynically. "yeah, i guess i do. how's your thumb?"

"oh... it's fine now. it doesn't sting anymore, so that's good."

"good."

and then you fall into an awkward silence. sunghoon looks at his phone while you take off your skates.

you stand up to leave when sunghoon stops you. "ah... y/n, wait."

you turn around, confused. "whats up?"

"i... never mind. see you next week."

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

it feels like years until your next lesson. when you finally walk into the tent, sunghoon isn't there.

you wait for him, putting on your skates and tying them tighter than humanly possible, and then sit back.

and wait.

and wait some more.

15 minutes later, sunghoon runs into the tent, panting and carrying his bag.

"i'm s-sorry," he says, bending over with his hands on his knees. "c-car broke down. i had to run five blocks."

you look up from your phone, amused. "it's okay, i don't mind waiting."

"y-your skates... are too loose again," he says, standing up. "hang on."

sunghoon sits on the floor in front of you, pulling your foot onto his thigh as he unties your skate. you sigh, even when you thought you had it, you didn't.

he fixes your laces, even thought they feel exactly the same, and starts putting his on. you take a second to look at his pair of skates, old and creased, but somehow still clean and usable.

"how long have you had those?" you ask, pointing to them.

"uhh... almost 10 years i think."

"why so long?"

"my mom gave them to me. it was my birthday present. they still work, so i still use them. plus, they remind me of the person who supported my dreams the most, you know?"

"wow," you say, staring at the faded white material. "that's really cute."

"yeah," he laughs. "cute was really what i was going for."

you fall back into an easy silence. sunghoon pulls out two plastic water bottles from his bag and hands you one. "you might want this today. lets go."

and you follow sunghoon off to the rink, water bottle in hand.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

"no, you need to tuck your ankle in the back of your knee. kind of like a flamingo." sunghoon demonstrates the position. "not like some russian dancer."

you try again and this time, he nods. "now bend your hips and try to sink lower. lock all of your body and then pop it into a spin."

he shows you how to do it and you try, hitting the move with ease.

"now all together."

you tuck your ankle and practice the full move. sunghoon waves his hand, skating closer to you. "you're not putting it together right."

he moves behind you, adjusting the way your knee held your ankle.

and then he grabs your hips.

and you forget how to breathe.

because with sunghoon's hands touching you, everything feels calm.

but also rough.

the way the pads of his fingers press hard into your skin.

the way his breathing quickens ever so slightly when you turn your head back to look at him.

the way he gets lost in your eyes, and you in his.

and you're suprised to find warmth in them this time. not the same glare you saw before.

tenderness.

"you need to stick your hips out. rotate them. that makes it easier for your body to pop," sunghoon says, breaking whatever moment you just had.

"try again."

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

you turn to sunghoon in the tent, staring into his eyes before you speak.

"i want more classes."

he smirks at you, and you roll your eyes. "because i'm not that good at the routine yet. i want to keep practicing."

sunghoon nods. "okay, lets do it."

before you walk out of the tent, he grabs your wrist.

"i'll even offer a discounted price. half off. if you promise to work your ass off. and practice off the ice."

"don't worry, i can do that." you grin up at him, pulling your wrist out of his grasp. "i knew you liked me."

he sputters, trying to find words. you stand there with your hands on your waist, waiting for his excuse.

"no. absolutely not. i do this with all my students. especially the good ones."

"so i'm a good student?"

his eyes soften. "yeah, you are."

"thanks... i gotta go. see you next week."

you jog to your car, sliding into the drivers seat and turning on the ignition.

you're about to pull out of the lot when you see sunghoon exit the rink and start walking.

"hey!" you call, waving out the window.

he walks up to your car, bending down to look at you.

"what's up?"

"need a ride? your car broke down, right? least i can do for the lessons."

"yeah, that would be great, thanks." he walks to the other side and hops in, his long legs barely fitting behind the front console of your car.

you plug your phone into the charger, and a song starts to play.

XO... XO... kiss me, don't say no

"you like it that much, huh?"

you blush and scramble to change it, but sunghoon stops you.

"it's fine, i like it too."

you start driving, humming along to the song.

and sunghoon hums with you.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

your car pulls into the parking lot of sunghoon's apartment, easing into a tight spot.

"you wanna come in? for lunch?"

"sure!" you say, stepping out of the car and following him into the complex.

his apartment isn't big or small. it's just average. the kitchen is a nice size, and everything is decorated well, which didn't surprise you. all the furniture and appliances are sleek and modern, something your broke college student ass only dreamed of having.

"damn, sunghoon. this is nice."

he smiles and puts his skates in a bin by the door. "thanks. i worked hard for it."

"i bet."

"do you want a sandwich?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

"that sounds awesome. anything i can do to help?"

"nah, just sit there and look pretty."

both of you freeze at the words that just came out of his mouth.

sit there and look pretty.

and neither one of you mentions it.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

"okay, my turn. what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

you and sunghoon spent lunch asking each other questions ranging from what's your favorite color? to when did you realize that skating was your dream?

"damn..." says sunghoon. "uhhh... probably the time in first grade when i ate dirt thinking it would impress the girl i liked. i ended up puking right in front of her."

you start laughing, and sunghoon can't help but join you. the way your eyes scrunch up and you try to cover your mouth with your hand mesmerizes him.

you catch him staring, and he looks away.

"when were you the happiest."

you look up, racking through your brain. "honestly, skating with you. it's a nice distraction from all the schoolwork, and you're a really good teacher."

"wow... that's really nice." he says, looking a little shook.

"what's the best thing you did to trick somebody. like anything at all?"

"honest answer?" he asks, looking nervous.

"honest answer."

"so... don't get mad, but you know how your skates are always too loose?"

"mhm..." you look at him expectantly.

"well they aren't. i just really like helping you. it feels good, you know?"

"wait... what?"

sunghoon nods his head, maintaining eye contact with you as he drops the biggest bomb.

"i like you. a lot."

and you sit there, your jaw dropped slightly, thoughts running through your mind faster than sunghoon could skate.

"ah, i'm sorry, i made it too weird, didn't i? just forge-"

you cut him off by placing a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his jaw in your hands as you finally taste them.

finally let them taste you.

and sunghoon doesn't pull away. he doesn't push you away either.

he pulls you closer.

one hand on the back of your head, he moans while pressing his lips deeper into yours, the vibration sending chills through your body. he runs his hand through your hair while he grabs your chin with the other, caressing your skin. he nudges your lips with his tounge, asking for entry.

and you immediately give it to him.

his tounge pushes into your mouth, twirling around yours, tasting you fully, completely.

like he can't get enough of you.

and you cant get enough of him.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

slap

"ahh... hoonie... please!' you cry, a red mark forming on your ass.

you never thought you'd be here. bent over sunghoon's dining table, both of your clothes somewhere on the floor, your legs spread for him so nicely.

damn, sunghoon loved it.

he bends down and presses a soft kiss where his hand hit you. your legs shake and your cunt drips at the feeling of his lips on you.

you were so wet for him.

he takes a second to smell your pussy, the juices that were already slick between your thighs, dripping down your legs helplessly.

embarrassingly.

he sweeps up your wetness with his tounge, eliciting a loud moan from you, your fists grabbing the edge of the table as he licked up your cunt.

"so wet for me, hmm?" he groans between licks to your core, lapping up your slick like a hungry dog. although you couldn't see it, his cock was hard, standing straight up. but now wasn't time for his release. he had to pleasure you first.

when your legs threaten to give out, he holds you by your hips, obscene slurping sounds coming from where he was eating you.

his teeth lightly nip at your clit, and the overstimulation sends a jolt through your body. you moan his name as you feel yourself climaxing.

"h-hoon.... ah.... i'm gonna cum... shit..." and you scream as your orgasm crashes over you, sunghoon's tounge working you through your high, drinking all of you until there was nothing left but a dull ache between your thighs.

"so beautiful baby," he says, licking his lips. "so delicious."

sunghoon stands behind you and places a kiss to your shoulder, working his way up.

your neck.

your jaw.

when he reached your lips, you can see the remnants of your orgasm on his chin.

and you could taste it in his mouth when he crashes his lips on yours.

he gripped your waist, pressing your chest harder into the table with his. his cock slipped between your thighs, and your sensitive clit could barely handle the contact.

he slowly thrusted between your closed legs, your thighs hugging his hard dick so perfectly, he almost came on the spot.

no. he had to make this perfect for you.

he speeds up, his pelvis slapping hard against your ass every time he pushed in. you moan deeply into the table, and his hand snakes up to grab the back of your neck, holding you down as your back arched.

he grunts as his orgasm starts to take over, pulling out from between your legs and keeping himself from cumming.

edging himself out.

so that he could cum inside you.

you whine desperately when he pulls out, shamelessly wiggling your ass at him, begging for more.

his deep chuckle echoes in your ears. "such a needy little baby, huh? what do you want, princess?" he asks, bringing his lips to your ear, whispering sultrily to you.

"need your cock, please hoonie... please, please, need you in me."

he groans at the way you wiggle in front of him, begging, pleading for him to ruin you.

and he doesn't hold back.

he grabs your legs and spreads them wide, exposing your cunt to the cold afternoon air.

when sunghoon rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, you whimper, so utterly wrecked for him. so perfect for him.

you slightly sway your hips around him, eliciting a groan from his perfect lips.

and without warning, he pushes inside you.

his thick cock stretches your little hole so much, all you can do is squirm, little yelps cried out with every small push into you.

sunghoon moans. "fuck, y/n... you're so damn tight... shit, baby, i'm not gonnna last long."

"s'okay," you whine. "fill me up, please hoonie... pleasepleaseplease..." your words trail off as he bottoms out, your pussy clenching around him like a vice, sucking him deeper and deeper in.

and then he moves.

he pulls out of your dripping hole and slams back in, tears already starting to form in your eyes.

and he thrusts again.

and again.

he pounds into you so powerfully, you feel like you're about to be split open. all you can do is helplessly whine as sunghoon hits so deep, you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

with every thrust, a tear falls down your cheek, spilling onto the table as sunghoon pumps into you.

the room is filled with the sounds of skin against skin, your wetness sucking around him, and both of your mingled sounds of lust.

"hoonie... holy fuck, sunghoon..."

he notices the tears painting your face, and leans forward to wipe them with his lips, pressing gentle kisses that were the complete opposite of how hard he was thrusting into you.

"princess, fuck... i'm coming. fuckfuckfuckkk"

you feel sunghoon bury into you one last time as he fills you up, his cum dripping out of your cunt alongside your own.

you both shake with orgasm, and sunghoon presses his lips against your back, riding out his high.

you look over your shoulder at him as he pulls out. his hair is a mess of sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his lips are puffy and swollen from how much he used them on you.

he smiles down at you, motioning for you to stand up.

you turn to face him, and your legs give out.

you sink to the ground, limbs feeling like gelatin, and sunghoon laughs.

"i ruined you that bad?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you.

you whine, defeated. "it's not funny, sunghoon." but you laugh anyways, leaning your head against the leg of the table.

"lets go, baby," he says, reaching for your hand. "i need a shower. care to join?"

"hell yeah," you shakily stand, and sunghoon immediately picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

you can't help but laugh as he pats your ass, carrying you into the bathroom.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

you wake up the next morning to find sunghoon's limbs wrapped tightly around you, and an unknown tee shirt you could only assume was his covering your chest. his hair was messy from sleep, and there was a faint trail of drool falling from his mouth, tiny snores sounding through his nose.

you giggle at how adorable he looks, and he wakes from the feeling of your laughter against his chest.

"hmm? wha-" he looks down at you, a dorky smile spreading across his pink lips. "oh. its you."

"rude." you say, staring up at him. "you drool in your sleep."

"not what i meant." he mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "and i know. might as well get used to it."

"what does that mean?"

"it means, i'm asking you to be my girlfriend."

you pretend to debate the thought, scratching your chin. "i don't know.... what's in it for me?"

sunghoon laughs and plays along. "hmm. how about free skating lessons and my amazing, award winning, delicious, bisquick waffles for breakfast?"

you smile up at him, catching his eyes. "of course, sunghoon. i would love to be your girlfriend."

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

a.n- oh dear god. this was the fastest and longest fic i've written ㅠㅠ if you liked it, please reblog/comment! and if you have any ideas, feel free to send me an ask, they're always greatly appreciated.

also- if anybody is interested in a part 2 for this fic, i have some ideas. lmk if you want to see it hehe

masterlist

#── ブーン #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ─── 숭훈 #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader

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thirteenheavens · 6 months ago

Note

Hiii i loved the story you wrote with vernon (both idols), so I wanted to ask if you kinda could write a similar story but with hoshi? But maybe this time hoshi and the reader get caught in the backgro making out or smt? I yk how svt films “inside seventeen” dance practice, so maybe in the background there? Im sorry im bad at this it’s my first time requesting something. Ofc you can write however you want. 🫶🫶

I decided to make this a going seventeen episode and a little funny hehe enjoyyy :D

It's the middle of a filming session for "Going Seventeen," and you're backstage with Hoshi. You're both supposed to be watching the other members perform their scenes, but you can't help but get a little distracted. Hoshi pulls you into a secluded corner, away from prying eyes and cameras. He pushes you against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you return the kiss with equal fervor.

You can hear the other members laughing and chatting in the distance, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of Hoshi's body against yours, the way his tongue is exploring your mouth, and the way his hands are roaming over your body. Hoshi's hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. He breaks away from your lips, trailing a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that you'll have to hide later.

"I'm so glad you came on set today," Hoshi murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your neck. "I've been wanting to get my hands on you all day."

He sucks on your neck, his teeth scraping against the skin as he leaves another mark.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I can't wait to take you home and have you all to myself."

As Hoshi continues to mark your neck, the sounds of DK and Mingyu's laughter and chatter grows louder. But you're too caught up in the moment to notice, your body too focused on the way Hoshi is making you feel. It's not until DK clears his throat loudly that you both finally break apart, your eyes widening in shock as you realize you've been caught.

Hoshi's eyes dart towards the camera, and he freezes, a look of panic on his face. DK and Mingyu are both standing there, watching you and Hoshi with grins on their faces. The camera man behind them is looking at the two of you with a smirk, clearly having captured everything on film. Hoshi quickly steps away from you, trying to regain his composure.

"This isn't what it looks like," he says, his voice a bit too high-pitched to be believable.

DK and Mingyu just laugh, clearly enjoying the fact that they've caught you two in the act.

"Really?" Mingyu says, raising an eyebrow. "Because it looks like you were making out with your girlfriend in the middle of a filming session."

Hoshi runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered and embarrassed.

"We were just...taking a break," he tries to explain, but even he knows it sounds weak.

DK grins and slaps Hoshi on the back.

"Sure, you were," he says, winking at you. "And I'm sure that 'break' involved a lot more than just kissing."

The camera man coughs speaking up. “We won’t be uploading this we’ll have to cut this from the episode,”

The camera man's words are a bit of a relief, but they also bring a new wave of panic. If the footage can't be used in the episode, that means the company will have to delete it. Which means it will never see the light of day...but also means you and Hoshi won't be able to get away with your secret relationship anymore.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt smut #hoshi svt #hoshi smut #seventeen hoshi #hoshi #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung smut #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung fanfic #seventeen soonyoung #kwon soonyoung

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faghubby · 13 days ago

Text

Swimming lessons

I had never learned to swim, it wasn't really my fault. As a kid we didn't have much money, and we didn't live near and big lakes or river so I never had a chance. There was a small pond we used to jump in as kids but it wasn't deep it was just more refreshing on those hot summer days. But now I was 35 and my wife Jan had booked a trip to a carribean island. She kept going on about snorkeling and taking a boat out. So I decided to sign up for swimming lessons at the local YMCA before the trip.

It turned out I was the only one who signed up. They where going to just cancel the class but I convinced the lifeguard Sam who was to teach it to just teach me privately. He agreed

The first day he showed up in his little bikini suit. And taught me some simple strokes. At one point he had me float in the water on my back. His hand slid under my ass. I swear he gropped me as he seemed to be holding me up. He had me flip over and he held me the same way. His hand closed softly around my balls.

"What?" I scrambled but was over my head. So I grabbed hold of him. He held me in the middle of the pool and kissed me.

"Sam, I think" I started not sure what to do. When I felt the edge of the pool behind me.

"Put your feet down" he smiled. Then he kissed me again. His tounge exploring my mouth.

"Sam, I'm not gay" I told him softly but still clung to him. His body was. I ran my hand over his rock hard abs. His hands untied my suit and slid inside. He stroked me.

"No one will bother us, closed for private session" he told me. It felt so good I rested my head on his shoulder as he stroked me slowly.

I came hard holding on tight to him to keep from falling down.

"Now that you are relaxed let's try those strokes again" Sam told me. He tossed my bathing suit on the side of the pool. He corrected me as I swam around. We'll tried not to drown naked. He sat on the edge of the pool at one point his feet in the water.

"Now swim to me" he told me. I swam across the pool right up to him. I jumped up. " I did it" I said with pride. As I realized I was in-between his legs.

"I'm not gay" I reminded him. Staring at the bulge in his little red speedo.

"I know" he smiled. I nodded but continued to stare at his crotch.

"Swim back" he told me pointing across the pool. I did as he said thinking about his cock as I did. He merely me at the other side holding a towel. As I got out I realized how naked I was. In the water it just felt. He dried me off. It felt odd I couldn't remember anyone ever drying me off. Before we entered the locker room he grabbed me and kissed me again. I melted into his arms his hands grabbed both sides of my ass as he did.

"I can't meet you tomarrow but we have the pool again on Wednesday" Sam told me. We then both walked into the locker room it was busy lots of guys had been using the weight room. Sam vanished I didn't know where as I showered and left for the night.

At first I thought I wouldn't return for another lesson but something about it all. So forbidden I couldn't keep myself away. I walked into the pool area. To find Sam putting equipment away. I admired his legs and ass. I was checking out some guys ass. I thought to myself.

Sam was all business making me work hard.

"I can't" I told him at one point my arms felt like jelly. Sam swam over to me. He stood close very close to me. I waited, I wanted him to kiss me. He didn't move. Unsure what to do I ran my hand over his speedo.

"Have you ever pleasured a man before?" He asked.

"No, I just " I told him. Sam lifted himself out of the water and sat on the edge of the pool. He grabbed the edges of his suit and yanked them down. His cock flopped out. I went to touch it.

"Use your mouth" she told me softly but stern. I swallowed hard bit leaned over and kissed his cock. He just smiled as I leaned in again this time taking the head of his cock in my mouth. I felt myself hard despite the cold water. I sucked on just the head of his cock. The more excited he became the harder the more I got into it. Soon I had his balls in my hand as I sucked as much of his thick cock as I could. I sensed he was about to cum and pulled back only to have him cum all over my face. I dunked under the water to wash it all off. He had fixed his suit by the time I came up for air. And helped me out of the pool. His hand slid across my ass.

"I know you're not gay" he told me. I just blushed. He was everything I wasn't tall, physical, confident. And I was in awe of him.

"Meet me back here after you get changed" he told me. I went to shower and get dressed I hurried to get back to him. He was dressed in shorts and a tee, had he even showered I thought as he led me out to the parking lot. He walked up to a motorcycle and handed me a helmet. I had never been on a motorcycle before. I gripped him tight terrified as we sped off. He raced thru the streets till he pulled into an alley. He led me up a narrow stairs to a very small apartment. He pushed me against the wall.

"I am going to take you" Sam told me. I was already late to meet Jan. But I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. Sam soon had all my clothes off. I knelt before him.

"No, this one goes in you" he told me he pushed me over hos small dirty table and pushed his fingers in my ass, he had some type of lube. He was not gentile or slow. He took me. He lubed me up with his two fingers then replaced them with his cock. It hurt, burned as he started to fuck me. He smacked my ass. And fucked me harder. He didn't stop until he shoved his cock all the way in and pump his load into me.

"Paul, you are gay" he told me as he pulled out. I stood and realized I had cum all over his table. I went to grab my clothes.

"Going?" Sam asked

"I have to meet Jan, my wife" I told him.

"Are you sure, you could stay here and be my wife" he told me. I got dressed and went to leave. I stopped and kissed him before I left. I caught a cab back to get my car. I made an excuse about a flat to Jan. And I spent the night wondering if Sam was right.

I woke the next morning went to work. I went about my normal day to day. But Sam was constantly on my mind. I skipped my swim lesson. And the next day Sam was waiting for me outside my office on his motorcycle. He handed me a helmet and I got on. He again drove to his appartment. I followed him upstairs. As soon as we where inside I tried to kiss him. He pushed me back against the wall.

"No, you are a dirty little bitch who been hiding from me" he told me he tore my shirt off. I quickly shed my pants and underwear. And what remained of my shirt standing naked before him. He grabbed my balls,

"Beg me to beat you, make you a good slut" he told me. Squeezing my balls.

"Yes, God please" I moaned "I am sorry I been so naughty. Teach me. Punish me" I moaned. In pain but also a strange sense of pleasure. He half dragged me across the room and bent me over the table. His belt off he bought it across my ass. Over and over. Pain and heat radianted from my ass. When he was satisfied I was properly punished he rubbed a salve on my ass. Then used it as lube as he fucked me. When he finished I wiped the tears from my face and went to get dressed.

After that I met him everyday after work. He fucked me or ipused my mouth as he saw fit. I was his bitch and he treated me as such.

It was weeks, it was the day before I was supposed to leave on the trip with Jan. I had told Sam about it. That I would be gone for 10 days. I hadn't had sex with Jan since Sam had first taken me.

What had not known is that Sam and Jan had been talking almost since the beginning. That is until the night before the trip. I found Sam sitting in our living room talking to Jan.

"It's all set then" Sam said shaking her hand. I stood there stunned that they seemed to know each other. Sam stood and kissed me in front of Jan.

"Pack a bag you will be staying with me" Sam told me. Jan just smiled like it was normal. Jan went on vacation without me. And when she returned filed for divorce. Sam wouldn't let me contest handing over almost everything to Jan. While I lives with Sam in his little apartment. He had me quit my job. And stay home as his wife. We where married the day after my divorce was final.

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2af-afterdark · 2 years ago

Note

Hello dear, you know why i'm here already.

We know for a fact that Casper never got to be intimate with anyone before meeting MC and for that precise reason, I'd like to know if you would you kindly give me some thoughts about Casper and MC's first time ?

Will our sweet Reaper be treated gently or will he be manhandled (gender neutral) roughly as payback for his sassy attitude and multiple murder attempts ?

- 🪰

I knew you would be here, 🪰. It was only a matter of time. You got me into this mess and you will dig the hole deeper and deeper. Lucky for you, I love this man and want to get him pregnant. His first time is really dependent on MC. My personal bias, however, is that MC should treat him gently... but keep up the teasing.

Imagine pinning him to the bed, hands on either side of his head as you lean down to kiss him over and over until he's breathless. He never knew that kisses could make it so hard to breath. Everything about this is new to him.

Slipping your knee between his legs without touching him, letting him explore and do what comes naturally as he teaches himself how to hump against you. The soft teasing as he discovers something new; how he can't stop once he starts.

How you can, eventually, figure out how to open up his shirt enough to slip your hand inside and lay your fingers across his chest. You could tease him about how hot his skin is, how much it burns and how heavy his heartbeat is. Press and pinch at his nipples to show him they feel pleasure like any other part of him.

Bully him until he can't take it anymore and makes an absolute mess of his clothing. Tease him about how cute it is that he couldn't wait but that he has to take it all off now. To finally get a look at him without and confirm if every part of him really is as large as he likes to brag.

When he asks you to take yours off to, deny him with a smile. Tell him that tonight is all about teaching him, so to lie back and learn. Everything with the same sass he's come to expect from his sunshine/nightmare. All the while calling his real name and telling him how good he's being.

He'll be putty in your hands by the time you finally get below the belt. He never imagined all the ways that mortals have conceived of to have sex, but he'll get to experience them all soon enough. Maybe your hand and mouth to start. Just enough to teach him the basics so he can get used to asking to be bullied. After all, he is very much the type to need to be picked on. Perhaps you'll even teach him about using his butt by slipping a few fingers in there.

I think the first sexual encounter doesn't involve penetrative sex because he needs to learn to beg for that first. >w> Eventually, he'll learn how to beg for a lot of things.

The first time with penetration? Well, we all know he's going to be the most bottom babygirl ever. With lots of hand holding and telling your little reaper how well he's doing. How pregnant you're going to get him and how many soul babies there will be

It shall be a wonderful night all around. ehehe

#❖ 🪰 anon #love letters ❤️#a date with death #casper a date with death

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hazashiovo · 1 year ago

Note

Father!figure Joel random headcanons with fem!reader?

(now that I'm reading my request again it sounds pretty vague :/ I'm gonna try to tell some ideas or details. So, would be cool to see how joel cares about reader's hobbies like bringing her new things, what does he do when reader gets sad, or when someone in town is messing with her, how does he reacts when reader shows him affection like making him a gift or hugs him or kisses his cheek, or how does he teases her when she's shy of some subject, etc)

I love this! Especially since I see Joel more in a platonic way.

Joel Miller father headcanons

Joel would be TERRIFIED to be a father again.

After losing Sara he kept living with the feeling that something bad is going to happen to you too.

Even so, nothing is going to harm you while Joel's there ,and he's always there for you.

He had a hard time accepting you as his newly adopted daughter,but once he made peace with himself? Best dad ever.

You like drawing? He left a box with a ton of art supplies.

He found them a while ago but didn't know at that time that you like art.

You enjoy music? He got you your own guitar,which also comes with music lessons only from him.

He knows how much you like listening to him singing,so it became a habit for him to sing to you,and once you gain more experience you'll be able to sing with him.

Maybe you like reading, Joel makes sure to bring you to this huge library,a bit far from Jackson but it's totally worth it.

You returned home with toons of books to occupy your time.

It doesn't matter which hobby you have, he will always be there to support it.

One thing I learned from the show,is that Joel likes hiking.

He used to do that with Sara when things were still okay, so when he started this with you it felt like a part of him healed.

When exploring a new place,he found an old shop full of video cameras and photo camera,and so he started collecting photos of you two. He even made an album where he keeps the photos with you.

If there was a fire that would be the main thing he would save.

When you got older he became more protective. He knew those Jackson boys barely wait for a new girl to get with. Well not this girl,not his little girl.

If you're queer,he would be completely oblivious. My man doesn't have a gaydar,not in the slightest.

If you would hang out with a girl pretty often he would just assume you're best friends or something along the lines.

Now if he accidentally saw you kiss with said girl? S-H-O-C-K.

Joel's not homophobic,don't get him wrong,but he just never expected it. And never actually saw it coming.

But if he saw you and a boy kiss,he's all protective father mode on.

Of course he's not a meat head, he'll understand that you have the right to a relationship just as much as anyone,but that doesn't mean he's also fond of the idea of a boy around you.

He'll only accept it for your happiness,but if that guy ever hurts you? Oh well, it's not his fault for what's about to happen.

Fortunately he trusts you can pick the right person, whether they're a girl or a boy.

At times when you're sick he can't help but remember Sara, he'd also remember how worried he would be for his daughter,the same worry that he feels for you.

He makes sure you stay inside and makes you drink and take the pills the doctor prescribed for you,even if you don't like it.

If you ever return from outside hurt, expect to never hear the end of it. For some time he wouldn't let you leave Jackson, mostly because of his fear of anything happening to you again.

But he's not that kind of Father,so after a while he will reluctantly give you permission to go outside Jackson again.

Movie nights.

Joel finds those old DVDs with movies he used to watch before the apocalypse,and he just loves rewatching them with you.

You'll be all snuggled up in his chest,head right where his heart beat, everything reminding him of his movie nights with Sara after a long shift at work.

Joel feels really happy and fulfilled that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable around him. Especially since this world is cruel and full of dangers.

He's dead set to never let anything or anyone lay a finger on you,even if it costs him his life.

My daddy issues are sueing me.

#joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel #joel tlou2 #joel headcanons #joel miller headcanon #tlou #tlou headcanons #reader #x reader #platonic #father x daughter #tlou2 #the last of us x reader #fluff #fluff headcanons #fluff imagine

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fatgirlonadate-blog · 8 months ago

Text

21 Days - Day 15

Something inside of Xavier has shifted. You can’t quite define it or give it a name, but you can sense it, see it in every glance and feel it in every touch. He is not the same man he was yesterday.

What a difference a day can make.

The change isn't anything obvious—most things haven't changed at all. He is as shy and sweet and earnest as he has always been. He still blushes when you touch him, he still pouts when you tease him, and he is still playful and warm.

But the shadow behind his eyes, the hint of sadness in his smile, is disappearing. There is a growing certainty in him that was not there before, as if he has made a choice -some choice- and it has freed him in a way that seems to extend beyond just his secrets.

It's absurd, but you can't shake the thought that he chose you yesterday—that, somehow, you were always a choice he had to make. You don’t even know what the alternative might have been, but now, when he looks at you, the affection in his eyes feels complete, as if it’s here to stay.

Maybe his fevered promise not to leave again was truly meant for you after all. But that only raises more questions—had he been planning to leave you? And when did he leave the first time?

If you were the choice, then what was the other option?

He has remained tight lipped about this particular detail - unwilling to share any part of it. Other small secrets about his past have trickled out in fragments over the past 24 hours—never fully explained and always a little vague, but still unmistakably genuine. He’s trying to open up, and you’re trying your best not to push him. The rest will come later, you tell yourself.

In the meantime, you have a much more immediate issue to deal with.

There is no other way to put it - Xavier has become adorably, maddeningly clingy. He hasn’t let you stray more than an arm’s length since yesterday, and if he weren't so infuriatingly old fashioned, you're pretty sure he'd have slept with his cock buried deep inside you last night. Instead, he’d settled for holding you close, your back pressed firmly to his chest, with his hand resting possessively between your thighs.

It’s not exactly a bad thing; in fact, you love him even more like this. Every time he teleports to your side instead of walking, you can’t help but laugh, as if the seconds saved are simply too precious for him to waste. You marvel at the confidence in his touch now, the way he explored your body this morning like he owns it. And you fall even deeper for him every time he willingly gives you some crumb of information about who he really is.

You're savoring every moment with him and wish you could pause time and stay like this, just the two of you, forever. But you have a plan today - one that he cannot be a part of because it would spoil the surprise.

"Xavier," You whisper, trying to pull away from his insistent kisses, "I really do have to go soon. I have to check in with Jenna. In person this time. You know how she feels about being kept waiting."

Xavier acts as if he didn’t hear you, keeping you pinned firmly against the front door. His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, biting gently before soothing it with a warm flick of his tongue. By now, he’s already delayed you at least ten minutes with those distracting, lingering kisses—reminders of just how skilled he is with his mouth.

"Xavier," you say more firmly.

He huffs as he pulls back just far enough for his blue eyes to lock onto yours, and the pout in them is nearly enough to break you.

"Why are you calling me that?" He asks, his forehead dropping to yours as he holds you to him, his nose rubbing against yours.

"What?"

"You usually call me Xav now. Or bunny."

A soft laugh escapes your lips at his confused, slightly pouty tone. "Xavier… Xav, I really need to—"

"But...," He protests, ducking his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck again. "Let's go together. We're partners. I go where you go."

"It's supposed to be 24-hour surveillance, Xav. You know we both can't go. We already agreed on this yesterday."

"Yesterday was yesterday. Can't we make a new agreement today?"

The whine in his voice is killing you, but you really do want to surprise him. This birthday needs to be special; he deserves to feel special.

"Not this time, Xav."

Xavier's mouth trails down to your neck, each kiss sending a spark through you as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning as you feel the insistent press of his hardness against you, even through the layers of clothing.

"Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?" he murmurs, his voice a low, promising whisper.

His mouth is pure temptation against your skin, making it hard to remember why you need to leave. But there will be time for this later—hopefully endless time, forever, if you have anything to say about it.

"Bunny, please." You breathe out, threading your fingers through his hair to gently tug his greedy lips away from your skin. "I have to get going. I'm going to be late."

Xavier pulls back and fixes you with the saddest puppy dog eyes that have ever existed. "I can't believe you'd actually...leave me alone in this house."

"I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. And I won't be gone long."

Xavier sighs and nods as his arms tighten around your waist. He lets out a defeated groan, and mumbles, "How long?"

"It's just a few hours. I'll be back before you know it." You smile gently at the boyish sulk that has spread across his face as he continues to mope and press small kisses along your jaw.

Finally he gives in and lets out a heavy sigh that fans out along your skin. “Alright,” he grumbles, releasing his hold on your waist and taking a step back.

The small bit of distance clears your head just enough, and you shake it slightly, trying to dispel the lingering desire coursing through you. God, this man has you so wrapped around his finger that you can barely think straight.

You flash him a quick smile and turn to open the door, but pause, throwing him a puzzled look as he moves to follow you.

"Xav, you know you can’t come with me, right?" you say, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your voice.

He nods, pulling the door open and gesturing for you to go ahead, slipping an arm around your waist as he guides you through. "I know," he says with a grin. "I’m just escorting you to the station. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?"

It’s hard to believe that the man who used to vanish for days, even though he was just next door, now can’t imagine being apart from you for more than a few hours. It’s a clinginess you’re not used to—not from him, not from anyone—but oddly, it doesn’t bother you. There’s something deeply comforting about being wanted this much, and you can’t help but hope it never changes.

"I’ll miss you," you say, rising on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Xavier’s cheek as your train pulls into the station. "And try not to blow up the house while I’m gone, alright?"

He looks like he wants to argue, his hand tightening around yours, but then his eyes soften, and he gives you a gentle smile, slipping into his practiced, fake-husband role. “Come back soon, Mrs. Shen. Stay safe.”

He’s an exceptionally good fake husband. So convincing, in fact, that the word itself—fake—irritates you as it echoes in your mind on the train ride into the city. Your marriage to him is fake, yet with each passing day, it feels more real. The thought of it ending… It's almost unthinkable.

As soon as you step off the train and into the city, your plan for the day begins to unravel. The check-in with Jenna is mercifully brief, but her urgency to wrap up this mission leaves you tense and uneasy as you navigate sidewalks that are already too slick for comfort.

Snow in October is a rarity in Linkon, but here it is—thick, heavy flakes falling from the sky, dusting the sidewalks in a thin layer of white. It’s beautiful, but bitterly cold, and you're not dressed nearly warm enough for it.

You shiver as you wander from shop to shop, collecting things for Xavier’s birthday. A surprise party had crossed your mind, but inviting a bunch of fellow hunters to your covert mission apartment didn’t exactly scream discreet. So instead, you’ve opted for something simpler—something you hope he’ll love, even if it has the potential to set the place on fire.

But if it makes him happy? It just might be worth the risk.

The cake ingredients were easy enough to acquire, but the decorations were trickier, the items scattered throughout the city, rather than all together in one single shop. By the time you finish collecting everything for the perfect birthday cake, you're freezing and damp with snow.

The warmth of the nearby cafe and the promise of something sweet was impossible to resist, and you sigh with relief as you dump your shopping bags onto a table and strip off your cold, damp jacket. A steaming cup of hot chocolate and three macarons later, your phone buzzes in your purse. You dig through the clutter of your wallet and keys to find your phone. It vibrates in your hand again as you pick it up and the screen glows with a notification:

(4) Voice Messages from Xavier

Xavier: Is it snowing there?

Xavier: We ran out of vinegar. Can you get some on your way home?

Xavier: Are you on your way back yet?

Xavier: Are you talking to someone outside right now?

You try not to smile at your phone like an idiot, but you fail as warmth floods through you at the sound of his voice. It’s amazing how a handful of words can make you feel so secure. There's something foreign but comforting about having someone care for you like this - someone waiting for you to get home. It's been a long time since you've had such a simple luxury, and you hadn't realized how much you've missed it.

You: I have to stop and pick up a few more things. But I'll be home soon.

Xavier: What do you want for dinner?

You're contemplating the least disastrous option as footsteps approach your table, and you glance up just in time to see a familiar face.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss bodyguard. There are easier ways to find me, you know. You don't have to stalk me." Rafayel smirks.

He slides into the chair across from you, meeting your wide-eyed gaze as he casually plucks a green macaron from your plate and takes a bite.

Has he always looked like that? you wonder as he flashes you a playful, disarming smile.

Seeing Rafayel is like looking at a masterpiece—he’s almost too perfect, so striking it’s hard to believe he’s real. You thought you’d grown used to his looks ages ago, that you had built up a certain immunity to it. But a few weeks apart have undone that, leaving you vulnerable to his effortless charm again.

Xavier is undeniably handsome, but Rafayel—even dressed simply in a sweater and dark pants—is goddamned majestic.

"Raf! Hey! Uh, what...what are you doing here?" You manage, surprised.

He's wearing his signature look of lazy amusement. His inky purple hair is slightly damp from snow, and he runs a hand through it as he takes another bite of your dessert.

"What do you mean? I come here all of the time. Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're supposed to be locked away somewhere trying to catch a bad guy, yeah?"

"Oh, shut up. I haven't been locked away; the mission is just taking a while. I came into town today for a mission update." You say, and wave toward your bags, "and some shopping."

His eyes flick toward your bags, narrowing on the pastel letters spelling 'Happy Birthday' across the card that's peeking out.

"Mission update, hm? Interesting," he drawls as he pops the remaining bit of macaron in his mouth. "I'm surprised you escaped your tower, your highness. You haven't really bothered to respond to my texts for the past week. I was starting to think you'd been captured or that you got possessed by Wanderers or something."

"Uh," you stammer, quickly sliding another bag over the one he's eyeing, shifting awkwardly in your chair. "Sorry about that. I’ve just been... really busy."

Though his tone is playful, there's a hint of hurt beneath it that tugs at your heart, just as it always does. He’d deny it until he was blue in the face, but you know he can’t stand feeling ignored—and it sucks to know you're the reason for it this time.

He shrugs and leans back, draping his arms across the back of his chair as he casually crosses an ankle over his knee. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Secret missions and saving the world and whatever. Same as always."

The tired sound of resignation in his voice makes your smile falter, and you can only guess at what's really going on behind those galaxy eyes of his.

After countless late-night phone calls, you used to wonder if there might be something real between you and Rafayel. He was a flirt—that much had been clear from the start—and you’d brushed off his advances, wary of reading too much into them. But sometimes, when it was just the two of you, when the flirting grew a little more heated or the light touches became bolder and hungrier, you were almost certain there was something more. That he felt it, too.

But he never took it further, and the moment would fade as if it had never happened at all.

It doesn’t matter now, you remind yourself, tearing your gaze away to stare out the window. The sky has darkened, snow falling steadily against the glass, and your train will be leaving soon. Whatever might have been between you is just a memory now—one you are scared to dwell on any longer.

"We'll catch up when my mission is over, okay?" You swear, rushing the words as you stand up and shove your jacket on, reaching for the bags on the floor. "I'll come over, you can tell me all about your newest exhibit, and we'll make fun of Thomas together. I pinky promise."

"What?" His eyes widen, and he quickly stands, reaching out to still your hand as you go for another bag. "You’re leaving already? You just got here."

"Raf—" You sigh, guilt gnawing at you for more than one reason. Xavier is waiting. "I really do have to go. My train leaves soon."

His grip tightens around your wrist, his warm hand almost scorching hot as he stares at you with a rare flash of desperation in his eyes. It makes him look vulnerable for just a fraction of a moment, and something inside you tightens, torn between the urge to ease the ache you've caused in him and the need to put distance between yourself and old feelings you’d rather not think about.

"Let me walk you to your stop then," he says, his tone light and easy, but he's still holding your hand prisoner. His suggestion isn’t really a suggestion—it’s more of a demand.

"Fine," You say, rolling your eyes dramatically even as a smile forces its way onto your face. "But make yourself useful. Help me carry this stuff."

Rafayel grins and lets go of your wrist, bending to scoop up most of the bags. "Jeez, these are pretty heavy. I better get some kind of awesome reward for all of this labor."

A chill wind and swirling snowflakes greet you as you step out of the café, making you mutter a curse under your breath. If you’d known it was going to snow, you’d have worn a real coat.

"I hate snow," you grumble as you fall into step beside him.

"What do you mean?" he grins, bumping your hip with his. "Snow is like magic. Look around!"

He gestures to the snow-dusted trees and buildings blanketed in white. "Each flake is unique, perfect in its own way, turning everything ordinary into something miraculous, if only for a moment. And...it also looks really pretty in your hair."

His enthusiasm is infectious, and his words make you feel warm despite the chill wind cutting through the thin material of your jacket. Maybe you don’t actually hate snow after all.

The walk to the station goes by in a blur as you catch up on the last two weeks: gossiping neighbors, Thomas, how cold the city is this year, his new exhibition, your boring surveillance work—keeping it light and casual.

It almost feels like nothing has changed—the two of you chatting, him cracking jokes and teasing you to get a reaction, and the way your stomach flutters every time he brushes against you. He doesn’t do that by accident; you're sure of it.

A pang of longing hits as you realize just how much you’ve missed this. Despite how he gets under your skin like no one else, his friendship means more than you’d ever care to admit.

Yes, he drives you crazy, and your feelings for him are confusing—but he’s always had this way of making the world seem brighter, lighter, and somehow more beautiful than you could ever see it on your own.

"It's so cold. I’m frozen solid," you declare, setting your bags down on the bench outside the train station. You’re about ten minutes early, and the air is only getting colder. Your fingers sting with the chill, and you blow on them in a vain attempt to warm up.

Rafayel sets the rest of the bags beside yours with a chuckle, shaking his head, "You're right, it is cold. Too cold for my delicate hands." He pouts, his brows knitting together as he exaggerates a shiver and opens his arms wide. “Hold me.”

"Raf..." You laugh, amused and exasperated.

"Come on, cutie. Don't you know how body heat works?" He quirks a brow, stepping toward you. "You wouldn't let me freeze to death, would you?"

His smile is dazzling, effortlessly charming, and completely irresistible—the kind that melts your resolve into a mushy mess. It’s the sort of smile that can't be refused.

You reluctantly return his smile, already mostly deaf to the alarm bells ringing in your ears, and step into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Just for a little while.”

Rafayel laughs, a warm sound rumbling through his chest as he wraps one arm tightly around you, pulling you close. With his other hand, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing gently over your cheek and neck. The sharp, clean scent of him—citrus and sea salt—fills your senses as you lean into him, soaking in his warmth.

The alarm in the back of your mind grows louder, more frantic, the closer you get. Yet the soft thrum of his heartbeat, syncing with yours, drowns it out, and the warmth of his breath against your skin is enough to silence the knot of warning you feel in your stomach. The familiar scent that clings to him wraps around you like a shield, blocking out even the smallest of doubts.

"Hold still," he says softly, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently combs it out. "You've got snowflakes in your hair."

A sarcastic remark hovers on the tip of your tongue—of course you have snowflakes in your hair, he does too, it's snowing—but the warmth in his eyes as he strokes your hair holds you silent. His fingers are gentle as he carefully smooths your hair back even as more snowflakes continue to fall, and he leans even closer to see his task clearly in the dim evening light.

Your cheeks flush as he moves closer, leaning into you, and a familiar warmth builds inside of you, making it hard to breathe evenly. You turn your head away from his hand, but he frowns and gently cups your cheek, tilting your face up to his.

"Hey," he scolds gently, "I'm not done. Don't move."

But his hand doesn’t return to your hair. Instead, he gently caresses your reddening cheek, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You're being pretty shy," he murmurs.

And you are. No sarcastic remarks or witty comebacks come to mind, not with the way he’s pressed against you, the softness of his touch on your cheek, and with his face so close to yours. The only sound you can make is a quiet hum that doesn't mean anything at all.

His eyes roam from your cheek to your ears and down to your neck, and he slides his hand along the same path. "Hmm. Your cheeks, and your ears, and even your neck...are all so cold. Do you want me to help warm you up?"

It’s not just warmth in his eyes anymore; it’s heat, and your stomach flips as he drops the tone of his voice to a low purr. The feel of his warm breath against the side of your neck makes your pulse quicken and your own breath catches in your throat.

"Is it working?" He whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.

You nod, barely breathing, as the heat that has built inside of you threatens to ignite into a blaze, your body trembling as you press against him.

“What about here?” Rafayel asks, shifting to the other side of your neck. His warm breath caresses your cool skin before he nuzzles close, trailing slow, lingering kisses from your ear to your neck.

He’s never kissed you before; of that, you’re certain. Yet somehow, in this moment, it’s as if you’re reliving a memory. His warmth, his scent, his touch, the way his body presses against yours—it feels natural, achingly familiar, as if you’ve known it all along. You could lose yourself here, drown in the sensation, and never surface again.

You’re trembling, but not from the cold, as Rafayel pulls back, his hands gently cupping your face. “You’re so quiet,” he says, his voice laced with curiosity. “I haven't the slightest idea of what’s going on in that head of yours. Have my awesome heating skills truly rendered you speechless?”

All you can manage is a shaky laugh, more like a breathless gasp, unable to form a single coherent word as a wave of déjà vu hits you, overwhelming and intense.

"Looking at my bodyguard..." He pauses, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "I can't tell if she's happy right now..." Leaning in, he brushes a soft kiss against the corner of your lips, then locks eyes with you. "Or maybe she's not?"

You stare, wide-eyed, unable to break free from the grip of the dizzying familiarity of this all— frozen in place by how deeply, unexplainably right it all feels.

"Raf, I..." You trail off, lost for words, unsure of what you're trying to express, but knowing you have to say something. Anything. That you can't do this with him, or that you need more of him. Or that, sometimes, two things can be true.

Before you can untangle your thoughts or find the words to express your conflicted feelings, he silences you with a kiss. It’s gentle at first, tentative—his lips brushing softly against yours. Then the kiss deepens, his mouth pressing to yours with an intensity that feels raw, as if the longing comes from the depths of his soul.

You’re drowning now, clinging to him as if he’s your anchor amid the waves of emotion and memory crashing over you. For a moment, time and space collapse, and it feels like this has always been your life, as if this is just one second in a lifetime spent with him like this.

But the brush of his tongue against yours snaps you back to reality, and you tense in his arms, your hand moving to the back of his neck to gently pull him away.

"What?" he whispers, breaking the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. "Do you want me to stop?"

His voice sounds so tender and hopeful that it breaks your heart a little, and your stomach twists with guilt as you lean away from his embrace.

In another life, you’d beg him to keep going. In another universe, you’d be his completely—mind, body, and soul. You can feel the way his heart calls your name.

But not this life; not in this universe. In all of the world, there is only one call your heart answers to, and it is Xavier's.

“Raf,” you whisper, your voice soft and aching, “I’m so sorry, but—”

"I know what you're going to say," Raf cuts you off before you even finish, hurt replacing the warmth in his eyes, "Sooo you don't have to say it."

He drops his hands from your face and steps back, and the cold wind that cuts through you is nothing compared to the burning ache flaring to life in your chest.

He runs a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few snowflakes, and lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess things with the ‘fake’ husband aren’t so fake anymore, yeah?”

"I love him," you admit, the words escaping before you can stop them, leaving you stunned. You’d never said it out loud before, never dared to voice what you felt. But now it’s out, and there's no taking it back.

Rafayel laughs again, a choked sound that gets stuck in his throat, and looks up at the sky as if searching for an answer there. After a moment, he groans softly before his eyes return to yours, "Oh, that intense, huh?"

You nod, silent, unwilling to say anything more for fear of deepening the hurt in his eyes. The few feet of space between you feel insurmountable, and you itch to close the distance, to reach out and comfort him somehow.

Rafayel sighs, his hand motioning toward the empty air, as if Xavier were standing here, too. "Is he... is he better than me?"

"No, Raf," You groan, the ache in your heart burning even brighter, "He's not better. It's just...different. I can't explain it."

Rafayel looks away again, his lips pressing together in a tight line, before turning back to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes. "Just...promise you won't forget about me, okay?"

Tears sting your cheeks, and the hurt, desperate sound of his plea is all the proof you need to understand that a broken heart can keep breaking.

"Oh, Raf, I could never forget about you," you promise, stepping closer. You reach for his arm just as the train pulls into the station, the loudspeaker announcing its arrival.

"I won’t," you swear, ignoring the blaring sound. "Never."

He steps back from your outstretched fingers, and his voice and eyes harden as he replies, "You will. You always do."

The train stops, passengers streaming past, and you open your mouth, trying to reassure him—but no words come. A wave of uncertainty hits as his cryptic words echo in your mind, and you fail to make sense of them.

The option to reach for him, to pull him close and comfort him, is stolen from you as he turns around and starts walking back in the direction you came.

"Get on the train," he calls over his shoulder, "Don't keep Romeo waiting."

You hesitate, your fist clenching as your heart and mind fight for control. Watching him walk away feels like losing a part of yourself, though you can't quite understand why.

You board the train with tears in your eyes, and search through your purse for your phone. You send a quick message to Xavier to let him know you'll be there soon, and try to collect the pieces of your heart as the train speeds toward home.

Xavier chose you yesterday. And today, you chose him.

This star isn't going anywhere.

#lads fanfic #lads x reader #lads xavier #love and deepspace #lnds #fanfic #xavier x reader #lads sylus #lads rafayel #l&ds xavier #l&ds rafayel #l&ds

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of-love-and-loyalty · 2 months ago

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Strays - Part 1

TW: Blood, visible wounds in the art

So, I wrote this first part with the help of my dear friend @babyzuma and then I drew sort of a comic page to go along with it. This first part of the story tells how Rocky and Zuma met when they were puppies.

Hope you'll enjoy it! I'm really nervous posting this, due to personal bad experiences I had in the past, but I'm trying to move past them. The future parts for this story will vary between "oneshot", art with some descriptions or narratives and a few dialogues, etc. I'm figuring I can't focus on only one format forever so I'll just use whatever fits best for each part.

Anyway, let's go, I guess 😅

A couple walked down the sidewalk. They had just left the grocery store and were carrying bags to a nearby car. They were so distracted from talking amongst themselves and searching for their car keys that they nearly stepped on the small gray puppy running past them in a hurry.

“Hey! Watch out, mutt!” the man yelled angrily. The puppy barely avoided being stepped on.

“Sorry!” the puppy shouted back, barely sparing a backwards glance as he kept running.

“I don’t know how they still allow these dogs to run around freely,” the man groaned as he picked up the bags that had fallen to the ground. “All they do is cause trouble everywhere they go.”

***************

The puppy had been exploring one side of the city that day and had gotten distracted by a nap in a park. Unfortunately, he had woken up to the smell of rain approaching.

Now he was running back to the place where he had been staying, where he took shelter inside a broken wooden crate near restaurant dumpsters with lots of leftover food. Rocky had just found that back alley next to a big busy avenue only a few days ago. It was like heaven for the stray puppy to find so much food in one place.

He desperately wanted to get back there before the rain started. He didn’t want to get too wet because then he would be uncomfortable and shivering from the cold. Not to mention that wet dog smell was awful, even for him, and he was used to going through the trash for food.

It had just never occurred to him why he had never seen other dogs around that place.

Soon it was dark. The rain started pouring. He was almost there.

Just one more block!

He waited under the shelter of a bus stop for a few minutes. Once the initial pour was down to a light rain, he once again took off running towards his alley, to his crate covered with plastic bags on the top and newspapers and pizza boxes on the inside. He would be safe from the rain and he would be warm. Or at least, away from the cold, wet ground.

To his surprise, he saw five other dogs in the alley when he arrived. They were bigger than him, sniffing at his hideout, and they seemed irritated.

Suddenly, they began to dismantle his little home, ripping the cardboard, pulling off the planks, and stepping all over it.

“H-hey!” Rocky barked as he charged over there, ignoring the small alarm of his instincts telling him to just turn around and run away. “That’s my home! You’re destroying it!”

“Excuse me?” The dogs turned to look at him, snickering in amusement. A dog with white fur decorated with brown patches stepped ahead to face the smaller gray puppy. Rocky shrank at the sight, suddenly feeling very frightened.

“Th-that’s my home,” Rocky tried to explain. The other dogs circled around him, staring him down in a predatory manner.

“And who said you could get a place in my territory just like that?” a black dog sneered from behind Rocky. He was muscular and had a large muzzle. Fierce growls escaped his mouth. Rocky’s limbs began to tremble.

“And didn't even pay rent!” another dog snickered, white fur covered with light black spots.

“I- I didn’t know-”

“Well, looks like we found who’s been eating our food, boys!”

Every fiber in Rocky’s little body told him to run.

And that was exactly what he tried to do.

But he didn’t get far enough to even leave the alley. The black dog caught him by his scruff and threw him all the way back into the alley like he weighed absolutely nothing.

Rocky tried to get up, but the impact from hitting the ground, from rolling and skidding against the asphalt, had hurt him tremendously. He watched in pure terror, shrinking against a wall, as the five dogs surrounded him, growling, baring their teeth at him, menacing grins pulled around their teeth as they cornered him.

“Nowhere to run, mutt.”

Only a few minutes passed by, but for the small puppy, each second felt like a painful and agonizing eternity.

It didn’t matter how loudly he cried for help. The rain picked up into a storm, drowning out his desperate pleas.

No one came to save him.

***************

Rocky laid on his side in the dark alley, gasping for breath, trying to pull himself up and crawl away, but he was so deeply wounded that he was rendered unable to do so. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he weakly coughed it out. The rain drenched his blood soaked fur, and he was covered head to tail in bites and scratches.

The dogs watched as Rocky tried to breathe through pitiful whimpers, still struggling to get up, only to fall back down.

“We should just put an end to this already,” he heard one of them say. “Put him out of his misery.”

“Too easy,” another responded. “He should be an example to remind the other mutts in this area to stay away from our alleys.”

“And what do you suggest?” a third dog questioned.

“Throw him off the bridge. They’ll probably find his body up ahead and get the message.”

“Probably?”

“I mean, the waterway might carry him too far anyway. But honestly? Who cares! He’ll be done for anyway.”

“P-please…” Rocky whimpered with the little strength he still had left. “No…”

“Should’ve stayed out of our turf, brat.” The black dog, who Rocky now clearly identified as their leader, lowered his head next to Rocky’s. His sharp canines dangerously brushed against Rocky’s cheek, hot breath huffing out with each word, making the poor puppy shake and push himself against the asphalt, trying to distance himself as much as possible. “But now… now it’s too late for you. Time to go. You’ll become fish food.”

Rocky could only cry out in pain as the black dog mercilessly bit his scruff and carried him out of the alley. His sharp teeth pierced through Rocky’s skin, drawing blood, and the puppy whimpered as he was taken away. The other four dogs followed their leader, scoffing and mocking Rocky all the way.

Soon, Rocky saw himself dangling from a bridge crossing the city’s waterway. The water was rushing by dangerously fast due to the storm, darkened by the night and all the pollution it carried away. A clap of thunder crashed loudly, but even that was not louder than the sound of Rocky’s own panicked heart, pounding into his ears.

The dogs laughed as Rocky tried to look up at their leader, who was still holding him in his teeth.

“Please! Let me go!” he pleaded, unable to stop his hysterical cries. “I- I’ll never go back there! I’ll leave you alone! P-please! Anything- I’ll do anything!”

“Aww! So cute,” the white and brown dog mocked. “He’s begging for his insignificant life.”

The others laughed viciously again.

“Any last words, mongrel?”

Rocky just shut his eyes tight, whimpering. “P-please…”

“Mmm… nah.”

The black dog moved slightly back to apply extra force before he launched the poor puppy over the edge. The last sound Rocky heard before he disappeared under the water was their laughter and mockery. The water dragged him down, struggling to find the surface, until he finally gasped for air several feet ahead, crying out for help into the darkness.

“No one will hear you in this storm!” one of the dogs sneered.

“Yeah, no one’s out there on the streets now! You’re outta luck, idiot!”

“See ya on the other side!”

Their laughter followed them as they left the bridge, heading back to their favorite alleys to claim their food, leaving the injured puppy to be dragged down the waterway, helplessly crying to the empty streets.

***************

Rocky paddled as hard as he could, desperately trying to keep his head above the surface. But the more he tried, the more exhausted he felt.

His whole body seared with pain; it was almost unbearable. The fresh bite wounds stung in the dirty, icy cold water, almost like he was swimming through a thorn bush. Soaked to the bone, hurting, freezing… he felt so heavy. So weak, so tired…

Despite this, he still tried to cry out for help through gritted teeth.

But no one came.

He could barely see anything around him. The strong current kept pulling him under. The more it dragged him down, the more he struggled to swim up again. Trash bags hit him. Empty cans scraped his already wounded skin. As he was dragged under once more, his right hind paw was cut on a broken glass bottle at the bottom of the waterway.

Rocky found it difficult to breathe and keep calling for help, even as his head came up for air. His lungs ached like never before. There was not a single human around in this heavy storm. Why would anyone care now anyway? He was just a small, ugly puppy. Alone, disgusting, always getting in the way. A mutt. A mongrel. Shooed and kicked away from one place to another.

No one had ever cared about him before.

His nose was just barely staying above the surface; he had swallowed so much water now. It tasted terrible, even worse than the previous taste of blood he had coughed up.

This invisible force that pulled him down, the one that seemed so intent on taking him away. It promised him rest. It promised him relief from his pain.

Rocky wanted so badly to give in to this force. He was just so tired. He didn’t want to keep fighting anymore. There was no point.

“Hang on, dude! I’m coming!”

He barely registered the voice, could barely hear it over the rush of water in his ears. He thought it was probably just his delirious imagination, stubbornly wishing for someone to save his life.

But he couldn’t believe that. No one was coming for him. No one ever cared.

Rocky gasped one last time before he stopped fighting. His head disappeared under the water, and everything went black.

***************

The next thing he knew, he was choking and coughing up dirty water, laying on his right side against a cold, hard surface. His chest was hurting so bad, aching with each heavy breath he inhaled. It felt like he had… oh yeah. He had breathed in a lot of water. All he could feel now was the searing pain running up his lungs through his throat and nose.

“Oh, thank…” a young voice spoke by his side, barely heard in a quiet, trembling whisper. “For a moment I… I thought I was too late.”

Rocky slowly opened his eyes, finding the source of the voice that belonged to another puppy.

“Hey,” the puppy greeted in a concerned tone. “How are you feeling?”

“Ran over,” Rocky rasped out, voice hoarse and barely audible. His eyes squeezed shut as he coughed up more water. “Wh-Who…?”

“My name is Zuma.”

Rocky looked up at him again without moving his head.

Zuma. He was a brown puppy with large, floppy ears. He appeared slightly younger than Rocky, a little smaller in stature, and he sounded younger too. How that smaller puppy got him out of that dangerous waterway, Rocky may never know.

“I’m… Rocky.”

“Nice to meet you, Rocky,” said Zuma with a smile and a slow wag of his tail. “I mean, it could be in a better circumstance, I guess… but still.”

“Yeah.”

Rocky finally managed to lift his head and take a look around. He could still hear the storm, but he realized the rain was not hitting him anymore.

“We’re under a bus stop,” Zuma explained. “Across the street from the waterway. You’re safe here.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

Rocky laid back down, shivering, fur completely soaked through. His whole body ached again. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on breathing. He was alive. And boy, did it hurt.

Zuma watched him for a moment and wished he could do more to help. He had just saved this puppy from drowning in the waterway, and only after he had successfully pulled him out of the water did he notice just how hurt Rocky actually was.

Actually, hurt was an understatement. Rocky was covered in horrible looking injuries. Zuma was pretty sure he would get some nasty infections after being submerged in all that sewage. Most of the wounds were still bleeding, and Zuma knew those were teeth marks. Rocky had been attacked by bigger animals, possibly other dogs. It made him shudder just thinking about it.

The brown puppy walked around and laid down next to the other freezing puppy. He curled his body up against Rocky, hoping he could help soothe the pain and maybe warm him up. Rocky startled at first, but didn’t protest or do anything to stop Zuma. On the contrary, he turned his face towards him, instinctively seeking the warmth.

“Rocky… what happened to you? How did you…?”

Rocky did not react for a long while. Zuma thought maybe he had fallen asleep and averted his gaze, but then he heard the other puppy murmur a response.

“I didn’t know I was in their territory. They… didn’t like it.”

Zuma grimaced as Rocky shivered. He winced in pain and let out a sharp sigh.

“They threw me in the water… to - to die.”

“Dude…” Zuma placed one paw gently over Rocky's paw. “That's so messed up.”

Rocky opened his eyes again and glanced at the paw on top of his, then back up to meet Zuma’s concerned eyes.

“Why did you save me? No one ever cared before.”

“Why not?”

That answer caught Rocky off guard. His ears perked up slightly towards him.

“I mean,” Zuma continued. “There was no one else around, and I couldn’t just turn around and walk away, could I? If I’d need help, I wouldn’t like to be ignored and… and abandoned.”

Rocky pondered for a moment over Zuma’s words. He was right. Rocky hated being ignored, being treated like he was insignificant, like he could just die and no one would ever miss him.

This train of thought made his throat close up. He bit back a sob and turned his face away.

“Thanks for saving me,” he murmured in a choked voice.

“No problem.”

“Why were you here out in the storm?”

“I like the rain,” Zuma stated with a shrug.

Now that made Rocky reel back. He turned his head back to stare at Zuma, eyes wide and incredulous.

“You what?”

“I… like the rain?” Zuma raised an eyebrow at him. “I like water. Playing around in the rain is fun!”

“No it’s not!” It was Rocky’s turn to grimace at him, mouth curling in disgust, but he was so tired it only made his face look funny. Zuma snorted at his expression. “I’m serious! Wet dog smell is like… horrible! And the sensation of wet fur clinging to your skin? And feeling heavy? And… and… it’s just bad, okay?”

“I don’t get as wet as you think.” Zuma got up to show him. Rocky frowned curiously as he studied Zuma’s fur. While Rocky was still soaked, dripping water, with his fur glued to his skin, Zuma merely appeared damp, his brown coat shining under the street lamps. “Someone once said I’m like this because of my breed. Labradors don’t get soaked as easily.”

“Easily? You literally got me out of the city equivalent of an angry river!”

“I didn’t spend that long in the water anyway! I’m a really good swimmer.”

Rocky continued to stare at him in disbelief for a few more seconds. “You’re weird.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Zuma replied with a laugh.

The mixed-breed rolled his eyes and laid back down. “Shouldn’t you go home now? Your owner must be worried and wondering what’s taking you so long.”

Zuma fell silent. Rocky could sense the immediate shift in his mood, prompting him to look up again. Zuma had turned away, looking out into the empty street as someone rushed past holding an umbrella, cursing at the storm.

“What?” Rocky questioned curiously. “Don’t tell me your owner is alright with you being out in the storm for so long.”

“If I had any, that is.” Zuma shrugged, still looking away. “I’m a stray, just like you.”

“No way!” Rocky exclaimed. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t you say you're a Labrador? What do you mean you’re a stray? People literally pay money to have puppies like you!”

“Not this puppy,” the brown Labrador replied with a sad smile. “But it’s okay! I get to play all I want out there. No fences, no walls, no barriers. Just me and the world. I like it.”

Rocky continued staring at him. Now that the panic of near death had disappeared and he was thinking more clearly, he was able to pay more attention to Zuma. He studied him carefully, and noticed how skinny he was. His ribs were visible under his shiny damp fur, and his limbs were thin with joints protruding.

“How old are you, Zuma?”

The lab’s ears perked up. He turned to look at Rocky as he said, “Uh… I don’t know. Four months, give or take?”

Rocky’s ears fell. He was right. Zuma was indeed younger than him.

“How old are you?” Zuma repeated the question curiously.

“Six months.”

“Oh. Cool. How long have you been around?”

“I was born a stray.”

It was Zuma’s turn to blink at him. He tilted his head, looking rather puzzled. “You were born on the streets?”

“Yeah.”

They fell silent again. A bus passed by and rolled to a stop. They watched as a couple people stepped out, each going their own way, completely ignoring the two dirty puppies taking shelter under the bus stop. The bus drove away, splashing water from puddles on the road to the sidewalk. Rocky recoiled from the water.

Rocky looked intently at Zuma. The Lab was distracted staring after a woman who was walking quickly away and disappearing to the right.

“You’re not doing too well on the streets, are you?” Rocky asked.

Zuma frowned slightly, lowering his sight back to the sidewalk, lightly scratching at the concrete.

“No,” Zuma answered with some hesitation. “Not really.”

“You could come with me.”

Zuma glanced sideways at the other puppy, who was pulling himself onto his stomach, face grimacing from the effort to get up.

“Hey! Hey, don’t move yet!” Zuma got up, startled, and tried to convince Rocky to lay back down, but Rocky was stubborn and stayed up.

“I’m good,” he groaned, lifting his cut paw off the ground to take the weight off. “But I’m serious. When was the last time you ate anything?”

Zuma opened his mouth to protest, but shut it, before rolling his eyes. “Couple days ago.”

“What?!” Rocky’s eyes widened. “That’s too long, even for a stray! Come on, I know some places.”

“I’m not going to beg!”

“Eww, no! That’s humiliating.”

“Glad we agree then.”

They looked at each other for a couple seconds before they both broke out into laughter.

“I bet you could look very convincing,” said Rocky with a teasing smirk.

“I bet I could convince you,” Zuma replied daringly.

“Don’t even try.”

“Aww, come on!”

Zuma turned his head down, a bit to the side, looking sideways up to Rocky, making his eyes as big as he could, a tiny smile playing at his lips. He shyly shuffled his front paws and wagged just the tip of his tail, hanging down almost between his legs.

Rocky looked away and had to hold back the urge to cover his face with his paw.

“No! Stop that! Geez, don’t do that to yourself!”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Zuma laughed, his tail moving back up to a cheerful wag.

“I refuse to answer that.” Rocky rolled his eyes with an amused head shake and limped out into the storm. He went down the sidewalk, but he stayed close to the buildings. Zuma trailed closely behind him. “Come on, let’s find something to eat. This near death experience left me starving.”

#Strays - of Love and Loyalty #Paw Patrol AU #Part 1 #TW: Blood #TW: Injury

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whateverisbeautiful · 9 months ago

Note

Part of the epic reunion in TWOL was driven by after almost 8 years apart, Rick nor Michonne moved on and the yearning for their soulmate persisted despite all the barriers. Are there scenarios that you could imagine where both experiment with intimacy or a different type of connection and still find their way back to one another? I’m not imagining a love triangle but something like Siddiq and Michonne having a brief moment (instead of what played out with him and Rosita) deeper than great friendship ? Other thoughts?

Thank you for asking. 😊 While I think there isn't much that could stop Rick and Michonne from finding their way back to each other, I can't imagine a scenario where they try to briefly experiment with intimacy with other people. And I am super super glad that they didn’t enter into anything romantic with anyone else. To me, Rick and Michonne not moving on with anyone else in any way was the absolute right choice for those characters.

By spending all those years yearning only for each other, it really hammered home how profound Rick and Michonne’s connection is. To the point that even when they had to seriously consider that they may never see each other again they still wanted to spend the rest of their life committed to and in love with one another. I love that they both waited for each other for years and operated every day like they were still actively married.

It also feels so full circle that both of them stayed so loyal to each other after their experiences with their past partners. They were let down immensely by Mike and Lori while they were away for a far briefer time. Michonne went on a run and Mike couldn’t keep their son alive when she was away. And Rick was in a coma for a few months and Lori had already fallen for and got pregnant by Shane. So it means a lot that now, even with their prolonged distance, Rick and Michonne get to see just how special they are to their partner and how loyal their partner wants to be to them, even when the time spent apart is not just a run or a few months, but nearly a decade.

I have pictured a scenario where during the post-Rick era of TWD, Judith asks Michonne if she’d ever date or let a new man in and she basically tells Judith that the few years with her dad were better than a lifetime with anyone else. I feel like that was both Rick and Michonne’s mentality.

But while I would not have wanted to watch either Rick or Michonne explore new romantic relationships even if brief, it would have been interesting to see others take an interest in them. Because as beautiful as they are inside and out it’s just realistic that people would be interested in them, even tho they'd all get turned down. I think more men should have and would have tried to pursue Michonne during those six or seven years. And I just know that around the CRM, Rick was known as the hot man who doesn't talk to anybody. In TOWL, I did want to see how both Michonne and Rick would react to some guy in the CRM hitting on Dana.

Overall tho I’m just really grateful for how TOWL confirmed that what Richonne has is no ordinary love. I think they both knew any connection with someone new would greatly pale in comparison to what they found with each other because Rick and Michonne’s irreplaceable connection really is the epitome of deeply intertwined soulmates.

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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wordsbymae · 1 year ago

Text

Plot: Reader is home sitting for a friend over the weekend, looking forward to a nice relaxing few days to themselves. That all goes to shit when a man breaks in, demanding that they tell him where the cash is stashed. Reader has to come to terms that they don't know their friend as much as they think, and that their ignorance is about to come back to bite them square on the ass.

TW: Degrading talk, reader is threatened at gun point, speaks on topics such as home invasion (which is fucking terrifying), swear words, allusion to coercion and dub/con. Short and probs really bad, cause I've been a bit sick lately sorry.

You gave a bright smile and a wave, as you watched your friend drive off into the distance. The sun bounced off the back window of his sedan into your eyes, causing you to wince and turn your head away. Your arm faltered as you turned, your wave becoming jaded. Your friend continued down the road, not once trying to meet your gaze in the rear-view mirror.

Making sure they were out of sight, you made you way back to the house, up the creaking wooden patio stairs to the heavy oak front door. Pushing your way inside with a grunt, you closed your eyes and released a breath. Finally, a whole weekend alone.

House sitting wasn't exactly how you imagined your weekend going, but if it meant you got away from your roommates for just three nights, you jumped at the chance. Your friend didn't really give an explanation for needing you to house sit, just that they had something important to do a state over. They didn't seem to want to talk about it so you didn't push.

The house was large, old and frankly pretty spooky. Despite the area surrounding it being a popular housing development, the land that this house stood on was isolated and densely packed with forage. You nearly missed the driveway, thinking it something more than a dirt service road. It did frighten you a little to think that you would be sleeping alone in a big house, but it also excited you. No need to wear headphones, no need to worry about any passive aggressive roommates complaining about you cooking, you had no one to answer to. It was perfection.

The sun had long since set as you finished eating dinner and doing the dishes. You pondered your opinions, watch TV, read a book or take a wonderful bath. It had been awhile since you didn't have to worry if someone was waiting on you in the bathroom. You could take your time till the bath water turned cold. You gathered your things, including a book you hoped to catch up while lounging in the water.

The bathroom continued the old, eccentric aesthetic your friend had gathered throughout the house. The tiling on the wall was a dark green, the bath itself was a clawed tub with golden edges. A rounded sunlight overlooked you as you entered into the warm, comforting water. You would have to go for a bath during the day to feel the sun on your skin as you bathed.

You read a few pages of your book before putting it down and relaxing deeper into the warmth. Your mind drifted, eyes floating shut. Muscles relaxed and the only problem with the whole scenario was that you left your phone downstairs and couldn't play music.

Until you were snapped to attention at the sound of glass shattering.

Heavy boots could be heard stepping on the broken glass, causing hairs to stand on the back of your neck. You reached for your phone, cursing at the remembrance of it being downstairs, most likely in reach of the intruder.

You stilled in absolute fright. The footsteps echoed like thunder through the house, they were heavy and slow. The owner of them, almost cautiously making their way as they explored the house.

What the fuck do you do.

You can't call anyone. You phone was down stairs.

You can't scream. There was no way the neighbours could hear and it would only tell the intruder exactly where you are.

You can't run. There was only one way down stairs and you could hear the footsteps on them right now.

The only thing you could do was to jump out of the bath and turn off the lights, quickly engaging the lock as you do. Afterwards you stumbled in the dark putting on your pjs, not wanting to be caught in the nude. The footsteps were getting closer and closer. You quickly found a place to hide, although you knew in the grand scheme of things hiding in a bathroom wasn't the best idea. You kicked yourself for not taking the chance to try and find a weapon. Now, the intruder was too close and would hear any movement you made.

The bedroom door was opened, and the intruder made short time searching it. You grimaced as you heard them rip drawers out and the sound of fabric tearing. You could only hope they found enough stuff to steal for them to finally leave. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, it nearly drowned out the sound of the intruder grunting in frustration.

Whatever he was looking for, he couldn't find it.

You listened intently as he rushed out of the room. He footsteps slowed to a stop in front of the bathroom door. You froze in fear as the door handle was wiggled. The intruder gave a scoff. Silence for a moment. Until it was slaughtered by the intruder slamming his boot against the door. You gave a yelp of fright, scrambling back into a corner. One more kick and the door flew open. You were now face to face with him.

He was tall, dressed in black. A balaclava hid his facial features, but his blue eyes drilled into you. Your eyes flittered down to his hand, where a handgun was griped tightly.

You opened your mouth, about to beg for mercy. When the man lifted the gun up towards you, he grabbed your arm and began dragging you towards the bedroom. You were thrown onto the bed with a yelp. You scrambled backwards, eyes trained onto the gun.

"Where's the money you stole" he demanded, hand steady and eyes narrowed.

"What? I didn't steal anyth-"

"Don't give me that shit, you either tell me where it is or I blow your fucking head off" his hand began to shake.

"I promise I don't know what your talking about. I don't even live here!"

"What" he scoffed

"I'm just housesitting for my friend, they-"

"Let me guess, had a last minute family emergency and had to leave in a hurry" his voice was softer now, yet still harsh.

You just nodded.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" he screamed, gun flying back into his holster, while the owner began wrecking the room.

Drawers were ripped out, a chair flung at the window and a vase thrown onto the ground.

"That no good, fucking bastard! I should have known I was too late, they've problem already used up all the cash" he muttered

"Um, excuse me..." his eyes snapped onto you.

"What do mean by stolen money?"

"Exactly how it sounds idiot. That friend of yours skipped down with my cash, leaving you to the wolves as it were."

"No, they wouldn't do that. Steal money or put me in danger!" you pleaded, still sitting close to the bedframe.

"Whether or not you believe it, it doesn't matter, they did steal money and they did leave you to cop the fallout. Sounds like an amazing friend" he scoffed.

You gritted your teeth in denial but thought it best to keep your thoughts to yourself.

"So...are you gonna leave me alone now" you whispered.

He let out a loud and harsh laugh.

"No can do sweetheart. How do I know your not lying, that you actually did steal my money. And if you are telling the truth, don't you think I deserve some sort of reparation? For all the shit your friend put me through?"

"I don't understand"

"You don't have to understand. I'll show you what I want"

I actually hate this.

#not really yandere #dark fic #dark character #criminal x reader #gn!reader #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #male yandere

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kissorkill16 · 2 months ago

Text

Where The Tunnels Go: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: The kids go to the tunnels, unknowing of where they lead.

(P.S., continuation from this.)

👇

Nicky waited until he heard his parents bedroom door close before he snuck out of his bedroom window, a backpack clinging onto his right arm. He ran all the way to the school, used his lockpicks to unlock the lock in the front, then made his way to the boiler room.

Finch and Delroy were already there, waiting impatiently.

"About time.", said Delroy. Nicky rolled his eyes, "Look, I barely get anymore days where I can go outside anymore. So I can't just tell my parents I want to go out."

"Won't they notice you're gone?", asked Finch. "I mean, I know they've never noticed before, but now..."

"Hopefully not. My mom and dad are heavy sleepers, not even a hurricane will wake them up."

He shook his head and turned his attention to the door to the school's boiler room, "But enough chit chat.", he said.

He used his lockpicks to open the door, and they all went downstairs. Nicky focused his eyes on the boiler and went to move it out of the way.

Like before, he was somehow strong enough to move it out of the way, revealing the long, dark tunnels ahead.

Nicky made his way down the hill to the tunnels, and Finch and Delroy followed after him.

Nicky took out a flashlight and pointed down the same direction he went the last time he was down here. The kids walked down that direction.

"So...what're we looking for again?", asked Finch.

"I saw Mr. Peterson come down here last time.", Nicky said. "He must've gone down here again."

"Are you sure he's not just somewhere else or some shit?", asked Delroy.

"Delroy, both you and I got here before Peterson did. We saw his car parked around the corner of the school.", said Finch.

"That doesn't mean it's still there. For all we know, he could've left by now."

No. No, they couldn't have missed him. Nicky knew Mr. Peterson was fast, but he wasn't that fast. Especially when it came to getting stuff done. If he was that fast, then he would've been caught a long time ago.

They continued to walk, and Nicky almost dropped his flashlight when he felt himself nearly fall into a hole. He backed away from the hole a bit, and he saw that it wasn't just a hole...

It was a deep, dark chasm.

"Delroy?", he asked. "When you first came down here, did you notice that?"

"No.", Delroy replied. "I was going in a different direction, and I was being chased, so I couldn't explore anymore parts of this place."

"Chased?", asked Finch, turning to look at him. Nicky also turned around to look at Delroy, "What do you mean chased?"

"I don't know, man. They weren't chasing me, more like they were taunting me.", said Delroy. "People with really messed up voices. It was darker the first time I was here, so I couldn't see their faces. I was just scared and wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible."

Okay. That's one more mystery to solve. But first, Mr. Peterson.

Nicky pointed his flashlight around the chasm for a moment longer before he found a staircase in the corner. He walked to the staircase, Finch and Delroy followed behind him.

When they got to the top of the staircase, they saw that they were inside of a large building with many floors, doors, and machines.

"Where are we?", asked Nicky. Finch snapped a picture of the surroundings before she answered, "I guess someone's never heard of Mayak."

"What?"

"The weather station. We call it Mayak for whatever reason.", said Delroy. "Finch, you got enough film in that camera? Scratch that, you got enough pictures?"

"We need all the evidence we can get.", said Finch.

Nicky couldn't help but agree. At first, he wasn't so sure about it, especially when Finch insisted that she take pictures of all the pages in Peterson's black book in case he lost it. Nicky was sure he wouldn't lose the book, he was very careful with things.

But he guessed Finch also had a bit of a point when it came to collecting evidence.

He walked to an unlocked door, pushed it open, and he saw that this building was surrounded by trees, they were in the woods.

"Oh man.", he whispered. He turned around to Delroy again. "You had to run from the people taunting you from the tunnels, Mayak, and through the woods?"

"From what I can remember. Yes.", Delroy replied.

They all walked out of the building, Finch snapped another picture and put it in her bag.

"You keep flashing that thing, we're going to get caught.", said Delroy. "Don't you have a setting on that thing?"

"No.", said Finch. "It's a really old camera for the school paper. Secondly, I'm not trying to get us caught."

"Then stop flashing that thing."

"I can't, that's not how this thing works."

Nicky turned back around to look at the two, "You're both going to get us caught if you don't stop.", he whispered.

But Finch and Delroy weren't looking at Nicky when he said that, they were looking behind him. When Nicky noticed it, he turned around to see a large golden gate.

His eyes widened when he saw what laid within the gate.

The Golden Apple Amusement Park.

Nicky climbed over the gate, and he waited for Finch and Delroy to climb over before he walked further down the cobblestone road of the amusement park.

They walked past the concession stands, fun houses and kids rides, making their way to a rollercoaster with a few missing carts.

Not just any rollercoaster. Rotten Core rollercoaster. Peterson's old creation before the park was shut down.

Finch quickly snapped a picture of the rollercoaster, and Delroy let out an annoyed sigh. "Dude, I thought you said Peterson was going to be here.", he said. "Face it, Nicky. He's gone home."

"But that can't be. We came here before the usual time he leaves his house every night.", said Nicky, almost sounding desperate. "If he already left, then that could only mean that -"

"Nicky, I want to go home, and you should go home too."

"But -"

"Let's. Go. Home."

Nicky sighed and nodded, walking away from the rollercoaster and following Finch and Delroy where they climbed in.

But before they could exit the park, they heard a whoosh sound come from behind them. They quickly turned around, but no one was there.

It was silent for a moment before Nicky spoke up.

"Where were we? About to go home, right?", he asked. "Maybe let's try another way?"

But they didn't even get a chance to before they bumped into the direction of a tall, dark, cloaked, beaked figure.

The figure looked down at them, at least that's what they thought since it didn't have any visible eyes.

The kids screamed in terror before they ran in the other direction, not daring to look back as they sensed that the figure was probably chasing after them. They hid behind one of the concession stands, and Nicky checked to make sure no one was there.

"Nice work, girl scout! Way to ruin another good thing!", said Delroy.

"You're seriously blaming this on me?"

"I told you that flashy camera of yours was gonna give us away!"

"I wasn't trying to get us caught!"

"And I wasn't trying to die tonight! Now we've got a beak faced freak on our tails, so if I die tonight, that shit is on you!"

"Well if I die tonight, that shit is on you! Both of you!"

"How? You're the one who wanted to come along for the sake of avenging your stupid mom!"

"Like anyone would believe a fat ass and a weirdo like you guys over the lead girl scout!"

"Both of you stop it!"

They all quieted down when they heard footsteps coming from the other side of the concession stand they hid behind. They could tell that the figure was looking for them.

Delroy turned to look at Nicky. "Any ideas?", he asked.

Nicky looked around for a moment, then he noticed something in the corner of the stand. A toy tommy gun. He picked it up, looked around for a little cork, and when he found it, he stuck it in the hole of the gun and pointed it at the figure.

"This is crazy, but it's worth the try.", thought Nicky.

Praying on a Hail Mary, he shot at the figure right in the back, knocking him down.

Nicky threw down the gun and ran out of his hiding place, motioning for Delroy and Finch to follow him. "Come on!", he said.

They got up and followed him, and Nicky was grateful to see that the front gate to the amusement park was open and unlocked. But before he could run out of the park, he felt a strong hand grab his upper arm and pull him back, clapping a hand over his mouth before he could scream.

That didn't stop him though. He still continued to scream underneath the hand.

He fought and he struggled, but the hands didn't let up. Instead, they clutched onto his backpack and tried to force it open.

"Where is it?! Where is it?!"

"Let go of me!"

"Where is that black book, brat?!"

Nicky kept struggling against the figure, trying to get their backpack from them.

"You better give me that book, boy. You won't like the consequences if you don't!"

Nicky looked up at the figure with angry eyes.

"I'm not giving you shit."

Finally, he managed to snatch his backpack away from the figure and ran away before he could get those hands on him again.

Nicky ran out of the amusement park and away from the gate, he wouldn't stop running until he was back in his house and back in the comfort of his own bed.

He ran through the dark streets of the town, the only light emanating were the street lights lined up near the sidewalk.

Nicky was so focused on running, he didn't notice the bright light coming right towards him.

...But when he did, it was too late.

Headlights and a front trunk came colliding with his side, making him drop his backpack and fall over on his other side, clutching on it as it painfully ached.

Nicky winced at the pain, and he felt himself passing out, guessing that might be because he hit his head on his fall.

The last thing he saw was the silhouette of a tall, hulking man, and when it came closer to him, the very last thing he saw were black gloves carrying him off the street.

#hello neighbor #welcome to raven brooks #theodore peterson #forest protectors #nicky roth #finch #delroy #my fics #hello neighbor fanfic

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bring-cringe-back · 1 year ago

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Okay I might just be reading too much into this. But while I was watching the episode *cough cough* procrastinating *cough cough I realised that they don't show how the Doctor and Ruby got there.

And I know that it's probably just meant to be vaguely like 'they just went for fun'.

BUT this is the third episode in a row where we haven't seen them arrive. And for 73 yards it was clearly a doctor who episode when it started but it immediately gets rid of the doctor. ( I know that for 73 yards and for dot and bubble it was because Ncuti Gatwa was filming other stuff but let me cook) In Dot and Bubble you could effectively be forgiven for assuming that it was a random Black Mirror episode or something similar until the Doctor turns up, and tbh if you were just flicking through channels and haven't been watching Doctor Who you could probably basically not know for much longer. In Rogue they are just there, except for the title screen (the same for dot and bubble) you could basically watch it as a Bridgerton episode until the Chuldur turn up.

(And there's whole other rant about how the Chuldur fits into the theory about this basically being a TV show within a TV show, I don't know the name for this theory)

But anyway these episodes are increasingly separated from the Doctor and Ruby as plot points particularly in the beginning of episodes. They are more and more like an excuse to tell the story or explore the topic that the writers want to explore. Which isn't totally different from the occasional episode of previous series, but this is a lot more in my memory at least from previous series. So it feels a lot like they are skimming over the more sci-fi doctor who elements. Which fits in in my mind to the idea that the 'One who waits' is a representation of story telling. I've seen theories that it's Ruby but she doesn't know it which makes sense, I think it would also make sense for it to be her parent(s) who left her, or alternatively just it's own thing all together. But it feels very like that bit where Amy is living a life and starts to realise it's all fake.

The narrowing down of these episodes into not showing them arriving, and at least in Rogue - I can't remember in the others - not showing them leaving the story, feels very different.

It feels more and more like story telling. They have covered fairy tales, Period pieces/Romance, Dystopia, War/SciFi, Musicals, Political Drama. They are also showing the doctor playing his role, something that we see companions doing often enough but we seldom see the doctor doing it.

In Space Babies he is scared of a new creature. In the Devil's Code he sings a song that makes little sense in the story, he doesn't question the road making noise. In Boom he's more himself but it's also the closes to his 'normal' environment. In 73 Yards they just fully remove him from the story, which I realise was done for filming requirements but would have been so interesting to see the doctor in a Political drama. In Dot and Bubble he plays the role of the outsider bringing information to those living under a Dystopia, how is he UNABLE to access the inside, sure he plays a role that's fairly similar to himself but Doctor Who is really Dystopian.

In Rogue he is becoming more and more his role, he is playing the role of a sort of Elizabeth Bennet style character, a strong romantic interest for the brooding man. Which is great, he makes fun of the genre, but he is hyper aware of the genre and still ends up in its pitfalls. He trusts a man so quickly he ends up handing over his sonic, he gets proposed to and basically immediately accepts. Now I am really hoping that Rogue gets to stay around I really liked him as a character, regardless of which theory of his identity if any are true. But the Doctors reaction to him is still a little out of character, he is feeling what he is SUPPOSED to feel and he is acting how he is SUPPOSED to act.

It just feels to me like an increasing number of these episodes are more and more story like and more and more separated from the more Doctor Who elements. And the lack of an introduction of how they get there, and the lack of them leaving in the TARDIS is so unusual to me and stands out to my brain so much.

It feels like they are removing elements that don't fit the genre. Anyway not sure if that makes any sense but I'm vibing with it.

#15th Doctor #Rogue #Doctor Who #I am meant to be studying - Like i have a paper and exam due tomorrow #this is not a good use of my time but I also need to yap #I have been cooking way too hard on the stuff that just doesn't need to be done #Anyway please tell me which bits are making me sound like an idiot coz I don't think I've had a coherent thought since exams started #I did not realise how long this post was getting #Doctor Who Rogue #Rogue is hot too #I might be going insane but #Theres heaps of yap in this I'm so sorry I let it get away from me #Doctor Who theory #dw meta #73 yards #doctor who series 14 #susan twist #space babies #And this doesn't even get me started on Susan Twist who was like #a. partially hiredfor her amazing last name #and b. the song being 'there's always a twist at the end' and then her name always being in the credits #oooo so good

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smuthospital · 2 years ago

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⭐️Pirate! Tomura x reader⭐️

Premise: A certain pirate really thinks you're pretty

Warning: NON CON, kidnapping, gn reader

MINORS DNI

"Now for the sponge cake!" You crack an egg and separate the yolks from the whites in two seperate bowls. You're making strawberry shortcake! You stop in your tracks when the sharp smell of smoke leaks into your airways. You drop everything you're doing and run to the bread oven. Your bread almost burned! Momo would kill you! You work at her little bakery and this bread was requested by a frequent customer. You sigh as you place the bread on a cooling rack and put out the fire in the hearth.

You live in a beautiful little port town by and it's what you call home. It's right by the sea so most men in town work at the docs, work at sea or sell goods. You just work in a little bakery. It's moderately popular. Everyone adores the pretty little bakery girl. You have countless old women asking you to marry their grandsons and countless men trying to pry into your life to win themselves a pretty wife to cook for them. You deny all marriage proposals because you're waiting for your true love to sweep you off your feet. And although your sweet little sea side town is everything to you, you hope to one day leave and explore the world. Your friends and family would be fine. You'd come back and show them all the nice things aquired on your travels.

You smell smoke again. That's odd. You could have sworn you turned the hearth off. Maybe a piece of bread fell onto the coals below the heat rack and now it's burning? You peak in the hearth you had just put out and see that it is Infact empty, but the smell of smoke remains. You then hear a scream from outside followed by people running around. You hear gun shots and the sound of distant laugter getting closer. You run outside to see a row of houses on fire, the fire spreading more and more. Momo amung the crowd, yanks you back into the bakery and roughly places a key in your hand. Her skin is as white as a sheet, her body drenched in sweat..and blood? "W-what happened to you? M-Momo? Wh-whats goin-"

"P-Pirates."

Your heart stops. This can't be. What would pirates what from your cute little town? "W-what? O-oh god." You cover your mouth as tears seep from your eyes, knowing this might be the end of your little happy town and maybe your life. Nothing will be the same by days end. "Listen, I need to get to my family. Stay here and hide in the back. Please be safe!" With that, Momo runs off. You waste no time hiding in the bakery, but not before locking the doors and turning off all the lights. You hide in the backroom and pray for a hero. You're covered in a cold sweat as you hear heavy footsteps outside the bakery. They seem to linger for a few moments around the display window. You hear them fade into the distance and sigh in relief.

A rock smashes through the bakery door glass and a hand shoves through the hole created to unlock the door from the inside. You begin to crawl to the back door as the person let's themselves in through the front. You hear the persons feet crunching the glass and the sound of them collecting your baked goods in a sack. You can image that baked bread and sweets are a delicacy to pirates.

You slowly open the back door and your breath is caught in your throat. "Ey captain, we got a live one!" A man wearing black shouts. From behind him, a tall, white haired man comes into view. He ducks his head under the door way as he enters. "Ah and a pretty one. I'm gonna have some fun with you, sweetie."

The cocky grin on his face tells you that he doesn't mean a board game. Fear like no other settles in your gut. He looks absolutely over joyed to see that expression on your face. Your eyes dart around for any escape. His frame covers the entire doorway.

The man smiles down at you wickedly. You try to run back into the bakery, but a pirate in dark clothing stands there, eating the bread you'd just baked. You feel a wall press into your from behind, two hands landing firmly on your shoulders. "Hey, pretty lady, no need to be frightened. We're customers. I'd like to have a cream puff. You got any of those?" The white haired pirate asked, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear, his chest pressed against your back and...somthing else. "Huh?? No!? I-I can make some..just please..don't hurt me." You turn to him and hold your hands together.

Dread washes over you as you feel his eyes drag up and down your body with that same shit eating grin on his face. His eyes stop at your chest, your cleavage poking out from the top of your apron. You feel naked in his eyes. "No..I can help you make them...it's my specialty." He says right before he grabs at you. You let out a short scream as he picks you up by the waist and forces your body onto a counter, ass up and legs dangling over the edge. He pushes your dress up over your hips and marvels at the sight. He kneeds your ass like dough, your kicking and screaming only egging him on.

As he pulls down your underwear, you spot a wooden mallet you had been using earlier and grab it. He picks up your underwear and brings it to his nose, taking a deep inhale before pocketing it. You can feel his twitching erection poking your thigh. Before he can do anything else, you swing the mallet at his body with all your strength, managing get him in the side. You scramble off the counter and out the back door that he left open, narrowly missing his hand grabbing for your hair. "YOU FUCKING BITCH! I'LL GET YOU!" His words sends shivers like cold water down your spine, but only boost your adrenaline, further encouraging you to run even faster. He recovers from the hit almost immediately and bounds after you. You can hear him quickly catching up from behind you. You don't dare look back.

You feel all hope drain out of your body as a heavy hand land clamps around your wrist. He slams his body into yours, sending you tumbling onto the gravely path with him on top. Black spots cloud the corners of your eyes from the impact. He yanks you by the collar towards his face. You hear his shouting grow farther. He backhands you across the face, momentarily bringing you back to your senses before you succumb to sleep. "You're just a little cock tease. I'll show you how to treat a man." Are the last words you hear before passing out in the mans grip.

You hear the sound of waves, then heavy footsteps on wood. You slowly open your eyes to see that you're on a mattress in the corner of a small, dark, dust covered room. You have a massive headache that has you wanting to close your eyes again, but you do your best to resist. The only light source coming from a small round window. You whimper as you rub your hand on your face, trying to sooth your swollen cheek. You begin crying again. Your town..its gone and you're gonna die. It's like a dungeon in here. You quickly examine yourself just incase you were defiled in your sleep. Your dress is torn, revealing more of your chest and there's a vertical slit up your skirt that goes up to your hip. You shift a bit in your spot, uncomfortable. Your pussy feels..tampered with? The door swings open and you gasp. You scoot to the farthest corner of the bed. "I like that look on you..but you know, you shouldn't have hurt me earlier. That's no way to treat your captain. Now I have to discipline you. I'm captain shigaraki, but you can call me Tomura." He steps closer, taking off his coat and tossing it aside.

"No-no wait. You don't want me..I-Im no good..I...I'm on my period!" You struggle to come up with more excuses. He chuckles at this. "Sweetheart, I know that you're not. I had a taste earlier and even if you were, I'm a pirate. A little bloods never stopped me before." Your expression reflects your disgust. So he did do something to you. "You're a monster!" Your words only seem to make his smile bigger. He gets down and crawls into the bed infront of you like a lion inspecting it's prey. You scream as he grabs you by your ankle and drags you under him. He leans down, his white hair tickling your face, your foreheads almost touching. You feel his throbbing cock under his pants rub against your stomach, begging to be released. He grinds his hips back and fourth along your pelvis, making you feel every inch of what's going to be splitting you open real soon.

He drags his tongue from your neck to your cheek bone. "Feel that? All for you. every since I first laid eyes on you, I couldn't calm down. I've been meaning to get a little cabin wench and I think you'll do the job quite nicely. A pretty little thing to keep my cock warm while out at sea. I'm sure you'd like that." He bucks his hips once, a whimper leaving your mouth. "And you have your uses. You can cook and bake your sweet little bakery things for me and my men. We'll have someone watch you incase you think you can get away with using poison...and if you try...well... don't." His face is only a cm from yours. You can't recoil any further without breaking your neck.

"I'm gonna fuck your mouth first. Then I'm gonna pound your holes into dust. Make you all nice and full. I'm gonna fuck you until you bleed. That is if you're not a virgin. Make sure to beg for me to stop." His large hands grasp your dress and yank it off your body, making sure to keep it intact. Your wailing seems to add to his enjoyment. "You know, sweet heart, If I ripped up your pretty little dress, nothing would stop my men from raping all your holes bloody." One of his hands crawl towards your cunt and plays with your clit, his wide grin mocking you. Your face is completely red in shame. He surprises you when he suddenly shoves a finger into your unprepared cunt.

You hear the clinking of metal and see he's unbuckles his belt as you struggle. You try to push his hand away from your cunt with your free hand when he quickly pulls out away, instead replacing it with his heavy cock. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at the ginormous thing laying on your stomach.

"Y-you can't...be serious. That won't fit! You're gonna kill me!"

You grunt as you struggling with all your strength. "Get off of me! Get off!" You hear a crack and stop stop moving, confused. What was that sound? A fiery sting slowly spreads across your cheek. "Shut the fuck up, meat. I'm sick of your whining. Beg me to stop. Beg me for mercy. And say my name too?" He growls. "P-please, Tomura." He rubs the cheek he just smacked as a form of reward, rubbing away the tears with his thumb.

"That's a good girl..now get on your knees." You do as he says immediately, coming face to face with the monsters monster. To you, it's disgusting. A pirates down below area..who knows where it's been. The tip is already shiny with pre cum. It's thickness seems life threatening. You really don't want to put that stinky pirate prick in your mouth so you instinctively try to pull away and you kinda You like breathing. He anticipated this tangles his hand in your hair and presses your face into his groin, his cock pressing against your cheek and nose. You clench your eyes shut and whimper. You can feel his cock radiating heat. "Common. Show your new owner that you're sorry for hurting him." You don't open your mouth fast enough for his liking so he yanks your hair. The feeling is excruciating. You scream in pain he slides his cock in as soon as your mouth opens.

You immediately gag as it reaches the back of your throat, the taste making you try scrunch up your face. It's salty. It's not even all the way in yet and you're fighting for air. He laughs as you panic. "Never given head? Dont worry, I'll teach ya. Start by sucking. No teeth." You do as he instructs, closing your lips around his shift and suctioning as hard as you can. He lets out a deep, gutteral groan and thrusts his hips back and fourth. "Oh fuck. You're a natural."

He continues thrusting, his cock sliding in and out with ease, now coated with your saliva. Pre cum and saliva leaks from the corners of your mouth and down your chin and onto your awaiting tits. Your breathing has adjusted to his rythim a bit now. His pace quickens and you try to pull away harder than before, not wanting his nasty children in your mouth. He presses his hips to your lips and grunts, his pubic hair smuthered against your nose and mouth. Your mouth burns as hot, thick lava like cum pours down your throat and out your mouth. It's all coming so fast that you can't swollow fast enough to breath. You have a hard time taking it all, some of it spills from your nose. He slowly pulls out with a sigh, his hand still firmy clasping your hair. Your mouth hangs open for a few moments. You think it's over, but his cock is just as hard as it was before he assaulted you. You think you're constant whimpering is doing something for him.

He shoves you on your stomach and lifts your hips up. You try to lift yourself on your elbows, but he shoves your face into the mattress. "Stay down."

His cock prods your entrance. He tries to shove in, but you're too tight and he's too big, causing it to just slip onto your clit. You can still feel the heat coming from it, burning your skin with every contact. He grumbles in frustration when you try to move away. He lifts his heavy hand and smacks your ass. His cock prods your entrance again. "I'm warning you." Your whimpers get louder and more desperate as he slowly stuffs the head of his cock into your cunt. You're in too much pain to think properly. The head pops in and you scream. "Ah. Finally. You're cunt is like a fucking boa. Got me in a chokehold. I might get stuck." He groans out. All you can do is cry, unable to respond without sounding like a blubbering mess. He leans over your back, caging your body with his.

"This might hurt, sweety so just brace yourself." His warning would have been comforting if you couldn't tell how excited he is to hurt you. He shoves the rest of his cock into your cunt, you muffle a cry into the mattress. He presses his hips to yours, rolling in a few circles to rub it in. He licks his lips. "Yeah. Keep crying." He thrusts in and out of your hot cunt. You can hear the wet sounds of your blood and your body desperately trying to create some sort of lubricant. "Hah...maybe I'll put a baby in you. Have you be my exclusive bitch."

"P-please. I'll do anything, Tomura..no...please-" he cuts you off with a loud moan. "You look so fucking pretty like this. Cry more!" He slams his hips into your ass, forcing your spine into an uncomfortable position. Your eyes cross and you you gasp in pain. He snacks your ass again, harder than the first time. You sob loudly, feeling like you're gonna die. You feel his arm reach under you and trail his hand from between your breasts, down your mid section and then down to your tummy. He feels his cock bulge our from you slightly each time he bottoms out. He pushes down on the lump. You whimper, the feeling an indescribable amount of pleasure. You can't help but tighten around his cock even more.

You hate it, but it feels so good. You can't help yourself. Your cunt squeezes his cock as he speeds up, his pace battering your womb without a care, just as a pirate does. You try to crawl away one last time, he puts all his weight on your back and slams his hips harder than ever before, sending ripples down your body. He snacks your ass twice in a row. You're sure his strikes are to leave welts and bruises. You feel a hot gush as his cum flows into you. Your eyes cross, the feeling too pleasurable to bare. You release your juices around his cock and his face comforts in pleasure. "Ah fuck!" Your tummy bloats slightly, and cum spurts out from around where his cock is buried deep inside you. He thrusts gently, riding out his orgasm. He leans over your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

"You're gonna be my little wife now. No complain'in. You cook, you bake, you clean, you sit on my cock and when it's time, bare my children." You can't believe the direction your life took. This morning, you were happy in your little bakery, now you're a pirates concubine or something. He slowly pulls out with a lewd 'pop' sound and rolls you over to face him. He almost tenderly kisses you o the lips. "I enjoyed this raids bounty today. I found a beautiful treasure." His lays himself next to you, hugging you closer to his body.

With that, you couldn't stay awake any longer. Your lower half is completely numb. You have no feeling in your ass and you sure sitting will not be an option for awhile. Maybe one day you'll come to enjoy being a pirates love.

Maybe you'll get used to this. Maybe if you behave.

#lemon #non con #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #shigaraki tomura #my hero academia

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carolmunson · 2 years ago

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you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.

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