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ghostonly · 9 months ago

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Disability, Cures, and the Complex Relationship Between Them

So, I've been thinking a lot lately about cures, just in general, as a concept. I've been watching the excellent videos of John Graybill II on Youtube, where he demonstrates his day-to-day movements as someone with Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy 2a, and updates every year to show how it progresses. I'm currently writing a character with LGMD and wanted to be sure I understand exactly how it impacts his daily life and movement limitations, so this has been extremely helpful, because there's only so much you can glean from a list of symptoms.

Quick Background on John Graybill II

John started this series in 2007/8, back when he was about 30 years old. He was diagnosed when he was 17, back in '95, and, when he started this series, he was very much fighting his LGMD, in a constant struggle, and angry with himself and the condition. In this, he directed a lot of toxic positivity at himself and became convinced he could defeat LGMD with positive thinking, healthy diet, etc.

Now, while I respect that there are positives to this (exercise and eating well is rarely a bad thing, and the stretches he does almost certainly have helped him to lengthen his time with mobility), there is also something to be said for accepting a physical disability for what it is. In later videos, he clearly had shifted that mindset toward something a bit more realistic. Where, in the beginning, he had been certain that he would somehow heal himself through positivity and such, he later says that may never happen, and he wants to enjoy doing what he can, while he can, instead of being in a constant battle with himself.

That being said, he does run an organization (I believe he runs it?) that seeks to fund research and find a cure for muscular dystrophy of this particular variety. And, while watching his videos from oldest to newest, I've been grappling with my complicated feelings regarding cures.

Why Are Cures a Complicated Topic?

The reason cures are a complicated topic is because, for a lot of us, cures are unlikely to ever be developed - at least not within our lifetimes and probably not within our children's lifetimes. Many physical disabilities and disorders are just too rare, too unknown, the cause unclear. For us, we have to just accept that this is something we have to live with, for better or for worse.

The other reason is that people are often proponents of seeking cures for things that don't need curing, such as autism. Obviously I haven't polled every autistic person alive, but I have known and read content from countless autistic people. I don't think I've ever found a single autistic person who wanted to be cured of autism. In fact, I would say most of them were pretty vocally oppositional toward the idea, for good reason. 90% of the difficulty that comes with being autistic comes from societal ableism and accessibility issues on a systemic level.

My Thoughts on Cures

I can't speak for everyone with incurable physical disabilities that are unlikely to have a cure developed, nor can I speak for everyone who's autistic, but, speaking for myself, talk of cures can be extremely uncomfortable to me.

I asked myself why. Because, in reality, there shouldn't be anything wrong with researching a cure for something like LGMD. It causes people great difficulty and often great pain. For certain variants, it causes early death.

And, after reflecting on my feelings for a long while, I think I've figured out why the word and the concept bothers me so much.

Cures Are Often Used as a Crutch for Ableism

There are, broadly speaking, two camps of people who want cures:

People who want to improve their quality of life, the quality of life of someone they love, or who want to prevent future generations from the difficulty they or a loved one have been dealt

People who are uncomfortable with disability and want it to go away

This is a venn diagram with a large overlap. The number of people who are purely in camp 1 is much smaller than you might hope.

Why Is Wanting to Get Rid of Disability a Problem?

Okay so here's why camp 2 is a problem. Let's say, for the sake of the argument, that every disability has a possible cure that just has to be found. Why is that a problem? Disability is bad, right?

Wrong! Disability is completely amoral - it has no goodness or badness. It just is. Ideally, some of the more painful disabilities could be cured to prevent pain and early death. However, the problem with viewing disability, in a vacuum, as bad, is that your opinion of the disability will inevitably rub off on the people with the disability.

When you view disability as an adversary, you view disabled people as a problem to solve.

Just as John Graybill II explains in one of his stair-climbing videos a few years into the series, he had spent so long trying to fight the progression of the illness, that he had spent every day in passive anger and frustration. He had forgotten to just enjoy his ability to climb stairs. And he said that he wished he could go back and just enjoy it - stop timing himself on his stopwatch and trying to beat his times. Basically, even as a disabled man himself, he had spent so long looking at his disability as a problem to fix, he hadn't been properly enjoying being a person and just living his life.

When you apply the same fix-it approach to someone who doesn't have a disability, it's equally easy for them to forget the personhood of the people with disabilities. Only, instead of it being directed at themselves, it is directed at others. They push their disabled loved ones to just try harder, just push harder and for longer, eat right, try this, do that, think right, take vitamins - if you just try hard enough, you can beat this!

Except... most of the time, you can't.

The idea that doing everything right will allow you to beat a chronic illness is just ableism in a scientific hat. You're afraid - of being disabled, of the consequences of disability, of someone you love being different, of them looking weird, becoming weird, being seen in public yourself or with someone disabled, of being uncomfortable, of having to put in more energy and effort into helping someone with special needs.

The list of things people are afraid of is endless, and the positive spin on that ableism is simply fighting to fix it.

Make it go away so that you don't have to deal with it anymore.

And then, when you take that approach and apply it to the countless disabilities that don't have cures and may never have cures, you end up with boatloads of people who are seen as problems to solve. They feel like a burden to their family and friends. They're pushed to do what hurts and will actually cause more long-term problems for them by forcing themselves to do things they shouldn't be doing - things that damage their bodies, which aren't meant to do those things anymore.

The Long-Term Consequences of Ableist Pushes for Cures

So back to that argument about all disabilities being curable with time: what's the problem with making some disabled people uncomfortable if, one day, all disability is cured and there are no more disabled people?

Well, the simple answer is this: that's never going to happen, and if you think that way, you're a eugenicist.

Even if every disability is curable with time, the ends do not justify the means - the means being to humiliate and degrade disabled people by treating them like problems.

And it would take decades, maybe even centuries, of those means to even reach the ends. But we'll stop that argument there, because there will never be an end to disability.

Why There Is No End to Disability

So, the thing about disability, is it will never cease to exist. Even if it was a good goal to have, which it isn't, it's never going to happen.

Disability is often caused by gene mutation. At one point, none of the gene mutations for our current physical disabilities existed. They developed. And, just as the current disabilities developed over time and with gene mutations, so will new and different ones. Even if we cured all of the current disabilities, there would always be new ones, likely developing as fast as we can cure the existing ones.

Additionally, a lot of disability is not congenital. People who are in accidents and lose legs will never be able to regrow those legs. Even if eugenicists managed to prevent any "deformed" babies from being born without limbs, people would lose them from accidents and infection, and all kinds of things.

In a world where all congenital disabilities were cured, what quality of life do you expect people in wheelchairs to have?

Because I think I can confidently say that, if everything congenital were cured, a day wouldn't pass before accessibility laws were thrown out the window. We would be returned to the days where disabled people are hidden away and can't leave the house - kept as shameful secrets by families who resent them, or shown off as paragons of strength and virtue when/if they're able to be fitted with a working prosthetic.

Neither of these outcomes is positive.

The Slippery Slope of Cure Ideology

So, on to another argument: there is a lot of danger in letting cure ideology go unchallenged.

I want to clarify again, that I don't think we should never research cures. I'm challenging, specifically, the social movement behind cures that is often driven by eugenicism and ableism.

So, why is it dangerous to let that exist? Well, let's look back at the reason I mentioned that people are in camp 2: they are afraid of being uncomfortable. They are afraid of what's different from them. They view difference as a problem to be solved - a disease or a disorder.

You can see this exact principle in action when people fight for a cure for autism. It's being fought for by the allistics who know people with autism, not usually the autistics themselves. It's being fought for by parents who are angry that their child is different or won't look them in the eyes. They see them as an obstacle to overcome, not as a person who has a different way of socializing. Even in the best case, where they see them as a person more than a problem, they are seen as a person with a wrong and disordered way of socializing.

Imagine, for a moment, that there was an allistic trait that people treated as disordered or wrong the way an ableist might treat hand-flapping or lining up toys. Let's take a direct comparison - something one does when they're happy - like laughing. Imagine, for a moment, that something you do when you're joyful, is treated like a maladaption. Perhaps, in this alternate universe, smiling is normal, but laughing is disturbing to people. You spend your life desperately trying to repress your laughter, hiding your joy, even though it's the most natural thing in the world to you. How would you feel hearing people chanting positively, with smiles, taking donations, running marathons and dancing, all for a cure for laughter?

Really, really, genuinely think about it.

Imagine living your entire life like that.

This doesn't just relate to autism.

The reason this ideology has to be challenged is not just by the concrete example of people trying to cure autism, it's the root of the ideology, that different is bad. That the majority being uncomfortable means the minority is wrong and needs to be fixed.

Is this ringing any other bells for you? Because autism isn't the only thing I desperately hope they don't find a genetic link for.

If fighting for a cure for anything people deem different and weird enough goes unchallenged, people will attempt to cure anything they don't like. Like being gay. Or being trans.

And I'm not talking about conversion camps that try to brainwash you into thinking you're not gay. I'm not talking about the abusive Christian approach, I'm talking about the eugenicist scientist approach.

If a genetic link were found or if there was some kind of actual biological difference, that could mean people trying to test fetuses for the "homosexuality gene" or whatever. It would give a concrete path for eugenicists to try preventing gay and trans people from ever even being born.

And, if that biological connection is found, how long do you think it would take for people to start excitedly pushing for a cure to "homosexuality" or "transgenderism"?

What is the point of this post?

It's food for thought.

I want, not only my abled followers, but my disabled ones as well, to reflect on how they feel about cures - about being cured or about curing others.

I want you all to ask yourself, am I in camp 1 or camp 2?

Your goal in supporting a cure should be to prevent death, to prevent pain that cannot be overcome through systemic support and accessibility, to help people live lives with quality.

Your goal in supporting a cure should never be to remove something that makes you uncomfortable. If you're abled, it should never be to make your life easier or alleviate your feelings of guilt, resentment, or stress. It should never be to make people normal, especially not people you care about.

And, on a final note, remember that the things you see in a disability you know nothing about may not have anything to do with reality. If you see a disability for the first time and you immediately wish for a cure for it, simply because it looks painful, maybe find out if it actually is first. Sometimes we attribute pain and misery to things that are no big deal to the people dealing with them. And, in doing so, we also attribute heroicism and virtue to the people dealing with them - which they did not ask for.

Don't make disabled people into a project. Don't use them as inspiration porn - putting them on a pedestal and using them as proof that "anything is possible."

Treat disabled people with dignity and respect.

Treat disabled people as people, with or without them jumping through every hoop you think will make them better.

Think about how fucking annoying it would be if, every time you got up from a chair in public, everyone stared at you, or even praised you for it. How uncomfortable would you be if no one ever saw you as yourself but as some kind of ambassador for strong, amazing people who are so so so cool because they can tie their shoelaces.

Think about how fucking infuriating it would be if every tenth person you walked past turned to you, looking sad, and said "god bless you."

Think about how old that would get, and how fast.

That's all. Just think about it.

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gravesung · 1 month ago

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i feel like "bottom in top's clothing" needs to be added to the raine-muse-type bingo card

#suggestive cw #ooc.#like keon was the first ofc but it sure is a theme #writing him again is making me so fond djfhjskhdkf #seph is a similar Vibe to this & it's the way i play geto as well #probably also the way i would play gojo if his muse didnt keep slipping thru my fingers AKSDUSFDJK #its always the mfs who posture and perform dominance who like it getting flipped on them #MEANWHILE CHIAKI IS VERY . the other way around. brattier than she seems + loves to boss (in particular) toji around in bed #havent plotted spice with others yet but i feel like for chiaki its like. the bigger and scarier her partner is. the more she likes to dom #which doesnt mean she doesnt ALSO like it getting flipped around on her. the tussle is fun <3 #^ geto also v switchy like this

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deoidesign · 2 years ago

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A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

#mobility aid #cane user #writing tips #writing advice #drawing tips #art tutorial #art tips #art reference #art resources #art help #my art #long post

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valalice · 1 month ago

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Hello there!! I really love your work! Could I request some older! gf caitlyn with some subtle and soft dominance? Doesnt need to be nsfw [but won’t complain if it is ;))]

It could just be about how she acts with the reader when in public, at home, etc. [i.e: cooking for reader when they’re busy for exams, putting her hand on reader’s thighs when sitting in public, or big spooning reader when they head to bed.]

That’s all. Please remember to stay hydrated and take frequent breaks! Keep being you and don’t overwork yourself :)).

— 🐢

ꪆৎ HEAVEN, HEAVEN. ft. 𝓬𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓵𝔂𝓷 𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓷.

ʚɞ summary. subtle ways your older girlfriend caitlyn shows dominance towards you.

warnings. fem!reader. reader is in college. age gap (10 years or more). no use of y/n. modern au! where cait is an office worker. fluff. in one headcanon there's a mention of curly hair (it's all for inclusivity and bias tbh—coming from a girl with curly hair). pet names ie: darling, love, baby, ect. smut nsfw. bottom!reader. dom!cait. hair pulling. mommy kink (reader calling cait mommy & cait calling herself mommy). squirting. cait had a bush. reader is a brat kinda. slight exhibition. fingering (r!receiving). orgasm denial. oral (c! receiving). strap (r!receiving). the strap is referred to as cait's cock. not proofread. wc. roughly 2k to 3k

an. thank you for the request, lovie! and i'm happy that you're enjoying my work ☺️ i decided to take this request and turn it into a headcanon format so i hope that's okay! you are too cute with your kind words and i hope you are taking care of yourself, drinking lots of water and eating yummy meals <3 i also decided to add some nsfw headcanons 🙈 so i hope you guys enjoy them. and for any of these headcanons i am willing to expand on them if you guys are interest :) remember to support your writers by reblogging & commenting !

m.list. | arcane m.list.

࣪ ˖ SAFE FOR WORK.

‣ straight away with caitlyn you notice her dominance. even before the two of you started dating and she was courting you, as she'd say when reminiscing with you or her friends on the early stages of you two, she exuded an air around her that's nothing less than confidence, pride, and dominance. she's already tall at 6 foot, but her posture is always upright, her appearance sleek, and she reveled in maintaining eye contact. and before her you usually didn't find people who were overtly dominant attractive, but when it comes to caitlyn it's completely different, natural. it's the way she carry's herself and it rubs off on you.

‣ the first subtle way of cait's dominance you noticed was her ability to make decisions. she's knows what she wants and how she wants it, and that's something you're relieved about, being too indecisive at times. so being able to let caitlyn reign free on decision making was something that gave you peace of mind. and it wasn't that she was a control freak (she kind of is, but that isn't the point), she helps level out the playing field when you're iffy.

"what would you like to eat for lunch, darling? my treat." she ask, clicking on her keys to unlock her car, taking the bag from off you shoulders to hold it in her hand.

"hm," breaking away from cait to walk around her car to the passenger seat, just before your slide in. "i don't really know." you cringe, you couldn't even count on your fingers how many times you've said this phrase in your relationship so far.

you hear caitlyn hum and the sound of her swinging open the back seat door and the shuffle of her setting your bag in the backseat before you enter your seat. she joins you in the driver's seat, clicking in her seat belt, her gaze settling upon you scrolling away on your phone. "would you like to eat out somewhere or pick up fast food and we can take it back to my place?"

your head darts up to look at your girlfriend, lips twisting up, thinking about your options. "i want something good."

that's earns a chuckle from cait, "i know that silly," her hand coming up to boop you on your noise, which caused you to scrunch it and giggle, swatting her hand away. "but what is exactly good?" she presses.

"well what do you think is good?"

"that wasn't the question."

you grumble, "you're so difficult."

"says you." she teases.

"'m always the one who picks. what would you like." you ask turning in your seat towards her as best as you can.

"i'm fine with whatever you'd like. you know that."

biting your lip you think about the choices she gave you earlier. "i think we should go back to your place."

"that's a start. do you have a taste for anything."

"i already answered that."

"darling." she sing songs in a tone similar to a warning.

she starts the engine, finally, and you immediately connect to the bluetooth.

"y'know we haven't had chinese in awhile." she proses, eyeing your expression from the corner of her eye.

"oh, that sounds really good actually."

cait perks up in the drivers seat, "you're usual?"

"yep!"

"alright," she stretches forward to twist the volume nob lower. "i'm going to call it in and we'll pick it up on the way home."

‣ cait also does the general dominate things; like opening up doors of any kind for you when she can, interlocking your fingers when the two of you walk together, walking slightly in front of you at all times as well as guiding you. you secretly love it though when instead of guiding you through a crowd by being in front of you, you love it when she does it by standing behind you, a hand or both hands securely on your hips as she leads you forward from behind. she's also a firm believer of switching places when walking, on the street and you're near the road? she's switching with you. in the parking lot and your facing the intersections? she's using her hand on your lower back to guide you to be the closest near the parked cars.

‣ she will also never let her girl look out of place, so she fixes anything that is "off" with your appearance. like fixing a certain stand of hair, taking that fallen eyelash off of your cheek and raising her finger with the piece of your fine hair on it in front of your lips so you could wish and blow it away, fixing your jacket so it's straight or the neckline of your shirt or dress, the straps of your bra will never be showing when you're wearing thin strapped items as long as caitlyn's around. holding your little compact mirror while you fix up your makeup or reapply your lipgloss. your necklaces will always be facing the correct way. picking off lint or stray hairs from your clothing. and she somehow always notices when your sneakers are starting to untie before your, pulling you aside so she can get on a knee and pat her propped up knee so you can place your foot there and allow her to tie your shoe, when she's done she pats your foot to let you know and she dust herself off before leaning down to give you a kiss.

‣ when out in public she'll usually always keep one hand on you at all times. in a comforting way for the both of you, especially if the two of you will be around her friends or people her age. she knows you get antsy around them and there's anxiety about being the youngest in a room full of older people. so, there will always be a comforting arm wrapped around your waist or a hand in or lap or on your thigh.

you look around the room, there's people you've met before. caitlyn's friends and a few colleagues, but for the most part a majority of them are new faces. and you can't help but feel like everyone is looking at you.

you've never been insecure about being with caitlyn. yes she's older than you, but it's never stopped you from feeling head over heels for her and that feeling overpowers any doubt or insecurity you could ever have. it's the fact that it seems like you're the youngest in the room, there's nothing inherently bad about that. but everyone here is successful, and you're well. . . a college student working a job that has nothing to do with what you're going to school for.

a warm hand snaps you out of your thoughts. lifting your head, caitlyn's already looking at you with a soft expression. "you're shaking your leg, love."

"oh," looking down at the leg with cait's hand on it, still shaking. you stop it on command, focusing your gaze back on your girlfriend.

"are you okay?" she tilts her head, her eyebrows furrowing and the ponytail her blue hair is in swishes behind her, cute.

you give her a tight smile, nodding your head. "hm." you hope you're convincing enough.

caitlyn takes in a breath, breaking her gaze from you to look around the room. "y'know that woman over there went for the same major as you." she points out.

"really?" observing the woman who's talking with a few of their colleagues before turning your wide gaze back to your girlfriend.

"hm. she doesn't do work with it," she pauses, turning her head back to you with soft eyes. "but, what she does now is something she loves."

her hand smoothing up and your thigh, comforting you. "what i'm trying to say is that don't worry about your path right now being different from others around you." she reassures. reaching out to take a hand from your lap to take it in hers, bringing your hand to her lips and pressing a kiss.

flushing at her gesture, "thank you, cait." your voice small enough for only her to hear in the chatter of the room. your hand stays up near her lips and she presses a few more kisses, causing you to giggle.

"there she is." she muses.

you bring her hand holding yours down down into your lap to clasp her hand in between yours. leaning forward, a few inches from her face.

"kiss?"

caitlyn leans forward to meet your lips, not connecting them just yet. "any thing for my darling." she whispers against your lips.

‣ it was also established pretty early that caitlyn is the big spoon in the relationship. she enjoys and you love it. caitlyn also finds it pretty cute whenever the two of you are laying anywhere whether it's the sofa or in bed that you turn your back to her and keep shifting until she notices your moving form, coming up to wrap herself around your backside. not really big spooning but caitlyn enjoys the feeling and pressure of your laying on top of her, always telling you how it grounds her whenever she pulls you along to the bed and flops you on top of her. but you never complain because you find it comforting too, the side of your head press against her soft chest, focusing on the steady rise and fall of it and the buh dumbs of her heartbeat, you usually fall asleep quickly like this.

‣ older gf!caitlyn knows how draining it is to be in college. you get so focused on your education by sainting grades or completing assignments, not to mention the exams. so, she's always doing her best to help you out and make sure that you keep yourself in check rather that be mentally or physically. during hard times where you have midterms or finals or just back to back exams caitlyn will always tell you to not worry about picking up shifts at your job, she already knows you're overworking yourself by studying and doesn't want you to exhaust yourself further by working long hours. because she knows you and that if you could study then work a shift and study some more afterwards you would, but she knows that isn't healthy for you. so she always reassures you by saying that she'll support you financially for a little bit, transfer sums of money into you bank account for rent, bills, groceries, ect. it gives her peace of mind to know that she able to take a weight off your shoulders and provide for you. cait is also an insanely amazing cook and you always rave about her cooking, so she began taking a day out of her week every week to cook you some premade meals. she always comes stocked and ready on a weekend to your place with her tote full of meals to pile into your fridge. and during exam season it became pretty common for you to send time at hers for a few days. she does it to watch over you to make sure you're not running on fumes, but you like to think of her as a built in study buddy for reviews. during these days cait will come home from work to most likely find you at the dinning table studying, she'll kiss you on your forehead, and she'll head straight to the kitchen to cook dinner. as much as you dread exam season you don't dread spending this time with cait, there's just something so inherently domestic about cait providing for you. coming home and cooking dinner for the both of you, it makes your mind go numb. and it makes her feel successful when at night when she drags you to bed and for her to wake up to begin getting ready for work that you're still in bed soundly sleeping and that you didn't sneak off somewhere to study.

"dinner's ready." caitlyn chims, poking her head into the dinning room where you sit.

you lift your head up from your notes to eye her. sniffing the aroma around you. "chicken alfredo?"

"hm. you said something about craving it last week, so when i went shopping i picked up the ingredients."

"you're so sweet, cait." you hum, watching as she exits back into the kitchen. you prop your elbow up the table to rest your head in your hand, eyes flicking back down to your notes. you needed to understand—no—absorb this material into your brain for your exam coming up in a few days. listing off multiple curses within your head for taking this course and major and your professor for being a difficult teacher.

there's crinkling of sheets of paper around you. cait's suddenly bending across the table to organize the scattered papers in her hands. "c'mon, love. you can study a little more later."

fixing your gaze back up causing your eyebrows to raise, dumbfounded as you watched her. releasing your head from your hand to reach it out for the papers. "but—"

"but?" her tone is questioning and harsh. blue eyes narrowing at you.

"just a few more minutes, please, baby. i almost have this down."

you watching her graceful figure walk to the edge of the table where the rest of your materials lie and she places the stack down. she stands tall, placing a hand on her hips. "you can always study some more afterwards," she begins to walk over towards where you sit. "your notes aren't going to miraculously grow legs and run away, love. they'll be here." she assures. you blink and look back down at the notes in front of you, then back up at caitlyn. and for the first time you notice her attire, her hairs in a messy ponytail, still in her work attire but she's discarded her blouse and is only in her under tank top and slacks, she too has has had a long day.

"okay." you agree.

caitlyn smiles, showing off her toothy grin and her front gap you adore. she takes the material in front of you and places it with the rest.

"we're eating at the island. i have a sneaky feeling your cute bum has been sat on that chair all day." she teases.

you stand, bones cracking. your eyes shoot straight to look at cait, the both of you bursting into laughter. the noise proving her suspicions correct.

she sways back towards you, "come before the food gets cold." she muffles out, taming her laughter.

beelining to the kitchen island you sit back down, but now on a high top chair. lifting yourself up by your hands on the counter to eye the dish of chicken alfredo on the other side of the counter.

"looks s'yummy, cait."

"hope it is."

"always is" you correct.

watching as she stands on the other side, empty plate in hand with tongs in the other, dishing up some pasta and chicken.

"good?"

you eye the plate, "hm" you nod.

she heads behind her to the stove where steamed broccoli lies, piling some onto you plate. opening a drawer next to the stove, grabbing a fork and slamming it shut with her hip. she turns around and walks around the island. the clank of the plate landing on the counter, placing the fork down next to it.

"dig in, darling." pressing a kiss into your hair before going to fix her plate.

‣ she takes care of you in softer domestic ways. such as taking off your makeup for you after a long day or a night out with friends. bathing you and carefully washing over you in the shower. washing your hair, even going as far to learn the type of products you use and buying spares for her place so she's always stocked if you happen to spend days at her place and it's a wash day. she even learns how to care for you hair type if you have curly hair, hearing you complain endlessly about the process of washing and styling it, so she'd take it upon herself to observe you and learn so that way she can help and maybe even completely take over the process to give your poor arms a break. a certain domestic thing she does is call her place home. not just her home but your home too. whenever you're spending the night and the two of you out she'll always say "alright, let's head home, love." at the end of it. and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat that she views her space as your guys's collective space. she makes it knows that she's ready for you to move in whenever you feel most comfortable, and the day that you announce that you're ready to live together she is beaming.

࣪ ˖ NOT SAFE FOR WORK.

‣ a subtle way she asserts dominance is maintaining eye contact with you. she relishes in being able to make you flustered from simple eye contact, watching you get all fidgety and stumble over your words. but it's also her silent cue whenever you're acting out in public. a tilt of her head, dark gaze, heavy lids and a narrowed eyes will usually set you in place.

‣ caitlyn knew a lot about herself before she met you, she kept a list of all things she liked and didn't like, and those things rarely changed. but what she didn't know is that she'd find being called mommy so attractive. she knows she can be assertive and demanding at times, always the one with the plan. she was even deemed the "mom friend" when she was younger, but not once in any of her other relationships had anyone called her mommy. and maybe it's because she's never dated anyone, before you, with a large age gap. but the first time the word escaped between your sweet lips it was when cait had you face down, ass up, drooling into a pillow. fucking you at a particular angle with her cock that caused you to go dumb and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. realization didn't strike you when it muttered out, you were too far gone, but of course caitlyn heard it, she hears everything. her hips stilling. "what was that?" you barely heard her question, only worrying about the fact that she stopped fucking you, pressing your hips back to gain her attention to begin thrusting again. "please—mommy." oh. she liked that.

‣ older gf!caitlyn expects nothing but the best behavior of her sweet darling. she finds it intolerable and disrespectful when you decide to be a brat and act out, and when you take it further and push her past her warnings? she's seething. but two can play that game.

cait lets out a laugh along with her friends. the two of you were where at this restaurant for hours now. you didn't mind your girlfriend's friends, you loved and enjoyed their company. but you didn't expect to be here for this long and it's getting antagonizing having to sit and pretend like your understanding anything any of them are saying, especially when cait looks like that, blue hair flowing down her back, dainty silver jewelry decorating her body, in that black silk dress the one with the modest (you don't think do) slit. you begged her to cancel the moment you saw her, but she persisted, and now you're suffering.

she's even been uptight today, shutting down your sly advances, saying something about acting out and wanting to enjoy a night with her friends in a long time when the two of you took a bathroom break. the bathroom break had backfired too, you prosed the question about going to the bathroom hoping she'd shuffle you into a stall and finger you, but that was a bust.

when you peak down to look at the time on your phone you catch something interesting from the corner of your eye. caitlyn's exposed thigh from the slit, her dress is bunched up a little at her waist so the amount of skin showing is more.

your nimble fingers trace down her thigh, smirking at the feel of goosebumps rising on her skin. settling your hand on her thigh, not too far low and not too high, just yet.

cait turns her head to peer down at the hand on her thigh, your pinky rubbing back and forth on the soft skin. then to your face, you flash her a smile and she does the same, pressing a quick peck to your lips before she turns her attention back to her friends. you feel as though a grey gloomy cloud was cast over you in that moment.

in a burst of inspiration you begin to inch your hand high, little by little until a few of your finger tips are dipping past the slit of that dress towards her clothed cunt.

her head instantly snaps towards you, eyes narrowed.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"i want to play." you shrug.

"and i told you not here."

"but i really want it," your gaze on caitlyn growing dark. "mommy." purring out the name so only the two of your could hear it

caitlyn's eyebrows raise in shock before they settle back down, turning her head to see her friends are still deep in conversation. her hand pulling yours from between her thighs. there isn't a harsh grip around your hand but it is tight, and with that hand she pulls you forward.

"fix your attitude and behave. maybe i'll think about touching you when we get back home."

you sit up straighter a grin forming on your face. nodding your head "m'kay." caitlyn squints her eyes at your sudden sudden change, releasing your hand.

a few moments pass by and you're already thinking of defying cait again. this time your hand finds her shoulder. you're bored so you begin to trace shapes on it, but then that gets boring so you start toying with her dress strap.

"stop that." her voice startles you.

you roll you eyes, confidently, because caitlyn isn't even looking at you.

"'m not even doing anything."

"yet." the pronunciation of the word is precise and harsh.

she turns back to you, "you're thinking of doing something. so i suggest before you do, that you don't."

"cait." you whine.

"what's going on with you, hm?"

"i told you."

"you're never this bad in public." that's true, but you've never had to wait this long for your girlfriend to touch you.

"you don't get it."

she eyes you. "no, i think i do," leaning forward her lips ghost yours. "seems as though i've spoiled you rotten which is causing you to act like a little slut in front of all my friends."

her voice dropped to an octive, enacting a reaction of chills down your body, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"be quiet or you won't cum for a week." she commands, pressing a kiss to your lips and refocusing herself.

"wha—"

suddenly caitlyn's hand dismisses the fabric of your skirt to between your thighs. fingers getting to work by rubbing at your clothes clit. you look up to see that cait now has her drink in her other hand, bringing it up to her lips to take a sip. her peripheral vision catching you and flicking her eyes to you, corking an eyebrow up at you.

as she is finished with her drink and sets it down her fingers push past your panties, spreading your legs a little wider to welcome her large hand. slow lazy circles on you clit was all you got for awhile, but it was enough to simmer your ache.

without warning cait bullies a finger into your sopping heat, causing you to let out a loud gasp. the entire table turning to you.

"are you okay?" one of her friends asks.

"yeah. you feeling alright, love?" her voice is laced in false concern. slipping another finger into your greedy cunt, observing your reaction.

you shuffle, looking around the table, then down at your empty plate. you can see cait's hand flexing as she pumps fingers in and out of you.

"uh— none of us has ordered dessert yet! it's not a dinner without dessert," you prose. "hm, right?"

the table agrees, and someone beckons the waiter over.

while everyone is occupied, caitlyn leans forward to your ear. "quick thinking, little one." she praises, watching as the waiter takes everyone's dessert orders. "order up, love."

"and what would you like?" the waiter asks.

biting down on your lip, hard. "hm, what's good?" there was an infliction on your voice from cait pressing her thumb against your clit as she fingers you.

"the molten lava cake is our most popular—"

you cut them off. "i'll take that!" a muffled moan escaped through your mouth, "hmm, sounds very delicious." hoping that saved yourself.

the waiter writes it down on their pad, turning their attention to caitlyn. "and for you ma'am?"

"oh, her and i will share." she confirms.

as the waiter walks off your head turns to cait, glossy eyes boring into her cold blue eyes. "cait—"

"i know" she shushes, she already knows you're close by the way you're desperate sucking her fingers back in. you're not sure if it's all in your head, but you swear cait fingering you underneath the table is causing the obscene squelches from your messy cunt to reverb and echo through the restaurant. to combat the noise you squeeze your thighs around cait's hand, but she persists.

flinging a hand down to grip at the hand between your thighs, you're so close that you don't even care if her friends caught on. not when her slender fingers that spot so deep within that only cait can reach.

just as you legs begin to shake uncontrollably, caitlyn whips her fingers from you needy cunt and between your thighs. grabbing the cloth napkin to wipe off your juices from her fingers, an icy glare is sent your way as she sets it back down, one that tells you everything.

brats don't get to cum.

‣ going back to spooning with caitlyn, she also loves to place you in her lap while the two of you watch tv. your head in the crook of her shoulder and a hand of hers in your hair, playing with it. until suddenly when she was innocently twirling a piece of your hair you'll feel a tug at it, causing you to gasp unexpectedly. or she'll get straight to it, so a her hand will find its way on the nape of your neck, slim fingers threading themselves through the underside of your hair before she yanks, now this will cause you to moan out, head falling back so she's cradling it in her hand. wet lips finding their way to your exposed neck, kissing and nipping away at the sensitive skin. you'll whine out, only for cait to shh you, "let me have my fun, love."

‣ there's something intoxicating about you being naked while caitlyn is completely clothed. the contrast between your crumbling figure and her composure. she also loves seeing how your sensitive body reacts to the feeling of her clothes on your body. her favorite is to press her clothed chest to your bare one while the two of you are messily making out, your nipples immediately hardening. even the way she can feel your slick soaking through her slack covered thigh, tainting the material. it drives her insane when she makes you squirt, your juices all over her button up making the material darker.

‣ when you're particularly needy and need something to shut you up she'll shove a few fingers in your mouth, watching the way your eyelids drop and you focus on sucking on her fingers. on other occasions she'll order you on your knees, grabbing a cushion for them. and she'll strip slowly and teasingly for you.

you watch her hips sway, raking in her naked body. her blue bush in your face and you feel drool pool into your mouth, gulping. a hand comes to your chin, pushing your head up to look up at her.

"you've been needy," she begins. "but, you've also been good. so i was thinking of putting your neediness to use, i want your mouth."

nodding your head aggressively, eyes dropping back down.

"words."

a hand still on your chin tips your head, peering up with wide doe eyes, cait's expression is cold as she stands over you. "yes, use me mommy, please."

her face relaxes and she smiles down at you, "good girl." your chin is released and her hand smooths over the back of your head, pushing it forward.

taking her clit in your mouth, you moan into her. lapping her up, you free your hands from your lap, placing them on her hips to burry yourself further between her pretty thighs. eyes fluttering shut, savoring the taste of the woman standing above you.

"ah, that's it. s'good." cait's noises of pleasure sounds like music to your ears. opening your eyes to view up her body, she truly is a stallion. her eyes are shut, her shirt long discarded on the floor as she toys with one of her breast, her hand still on your head keeping you pressed up close to her, and her mouth is agape.

your wet muscle working away at her, gliding through her sticky folds. slurping up all her arousal, not wasting a drop.

"so—" she begins. but gasp when you take her clit and suck on it. "shit. so," she gasp again, "so eager to please."

nodding into her, not wanting to let up. releasing a moan into her, causing the grasp in your hair to tighten.

"c'mon, love. make me cum," doe eyes staring back into her drowsy eyes as she lazily talks. "make mommy cum."

caitlyn addressing herself as mommy made you clench your thighs, the ache between your thighs becoming very apparent.

your pushed so far into her that your nose is up against her bush, her scent only enhancing your eagerness.

cait begin to slightly rock back and forth in your mouth maneuvering your head so she's practical long dragging her cunt against your face. your finger nails grip into her hips, adding to her movements. her juices dripping down your chin to dip down your neck.

"fuck!" she yelps, her sweet release washing over her shuttering body and you quickly slurp it up.

the grip in your hair releases. when your satisfied you let up, but quickly you place a kiss upon cait's clit, letting up with a mwah. a shiny sheen covering the bottom half of your face, even the tip of your nose.

cait's hand finds it's way on your face once again, but it cradles you jaw this time, thumb swiping over your plump, slick cover lips.

"my baby always knows how to care of me, doesn't she?" she purs, droopy eyes sparkling down at you with a dazzling smile to match.

‣ whenever cait is strapping you she prefers to be gentle with you. it'll take a lot of begging and or pressing your luck to get her to be really rough with you (like the first time you ever called her mommy). she also just prefers it. she likes taking it slow with you whenever she fucks you with her cock, in missionary so she's able to see your twisted up face from pleasure. she's also just a plain sucker for intimacy, the two of you so close that you're not even sharing space the space you two take up is its own completely new thing. everything of the outside world just washes away, and she gets to focus on you and only you. she loves being able to look you in your eye and dip her head in the crook of your neck to litter kisses and love bites across it and down your collarbones to your tits. and she really loves when you cum, your back arching off the bed your chest pressing further into hers, your head falling back, mouth agape and releasing pretty moans and whines of your climax, even your toes curling and uncurling. she eats it up. she loves it. she loves you.

#𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 alice writes.#caitlynྀི txt.#۶ৎ older gf!caitlyn.#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane fluff #arcane smut #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman fluff #caitlyn kiramman smut #lesbian #wlw

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 1 year ago

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꧁𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖꧂

✧ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔<3

✧ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒅𝒂, 𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒗, 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍, 𝒔𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒔 (𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒋𝒔 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒐), 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈/𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚/𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒅𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂, ’𝒔𝒊𝒓’ 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕. 𝑳𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔💕

✧ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔: 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒚𝒊̀𝒑- 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆- 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝑶𝒆𝒚𝒂̈- 𝒎𝒚 (𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆), 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖- 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒊̀𝒚𝒂𝒘𝒏-𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒗𝒐-𝒚𝒐𝒗𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒔𝒂𝒉𝒚𝒍𝒖- 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅, 𝑵𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒙𝒂𝒏 ’𝒆𝒌𝒙𝒊𝒏, 𝒐𝒆𝒚𝒂̈ 𝒕𝒊̀𝒚𝒂𝒘𝒏- “𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑴𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆“, 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒌𝒆 𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒊̀𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒈𝒂 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒏- 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚

✧ 𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊!! 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒐

✧ !!𝑨𝑳𝑺𝑶!! 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒔/𝒐, 𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒚𝒂!𝒔/𝒐, 𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒌𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒂!𝒔/𝒐. 𝑺𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚☺️💕

──☆*:・ﾟ──☆*:・ﾟ ──☆*:・ﾟ✧𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒄’𝒔

- they’re all extremelyy protective over you. And always so ready to defend you.

- very touchy, weather it’s a little hand hold or a full on thigh grab he needs to have his hands on you at all times.

- they’re all very fertile, and so are you. (So yk what that means😘)

- their aftercare is AMAZING 🫦

- NON-SEXUAL DOMINANCE 😩!! Like…

Putting his hand on your back to lead you somewhere

Saying “no” in a stern but caring tone

Opening things for you/ Making way for you

Giving you reasonable instructions

Telling you “come here” and/or pointing to the ground to where they want you

Fixing your appearance (like fixing your hair or loincloth)

Lifting your chin up

“look at me”

Fixing your posture

“Yeah?”

And so many more😩

- always so quick to do anything for you. Want food? He already out the door. Cold? Blanket is already covering you. Need a hug? Immediately wrapping his arms around you and kissing you gently. This man is in loveee with you😭

- they got the besttt hand placement 😩

𝑵𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎

❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- loves taking you out on late night beach walks, the bioluminescence of the pandora making you look even more gorgeous.

- whenever you two go on walks in the forest he always hold your hand whenever the path gets too uneven. And whenever he has to climb or jump over something he’ll always pick you up so you don’t get hurt.

“Teyam! I’m fine! I’m not a child you know.”

“Mhm. Yeah sure, yawntutsyìp. Now come on.”

- hates when he sees other guys looking at you, almost like he can hear their thoughts. So he’ll just wrap his arm around you and trail kisses and a few bites all over your soft skin, making sure everyone know you’re his.

- whenever he gets mad his jaw does that thing, and ik yall know what im talking about 😩

- keeps track of your period/heat cycle, so he knows the exact day you’re going to get it.

- he baby’s you a lottt during these days, making sure his girl is ok.

“Here tahnì, kiri made this for you. It’s supposed to take some of the pain away.”

“Thank you, baby. You’re the best-“ and there it was again. That sharp pain shooting up through your core. It felt like someone was trying to tear you apart from the inside out.

You yelp in pain, neteyam automatically leaping next to your side and pressing his big hand into where the pain was coming from.

“Shshsh, yawntu. It’s ok..I know it hurts but I’m here baby. I got you.” He coos, the warmth and pressure from his hand soothing you immediately. The rest of your body weight pressing into his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

- always is looking at you even when you’re not looking at him. You always manage to catch his eyes tho, it’s hard not to when he’s staring right into your soul.

- but when you finally do meet his eyes they’re always filled with love and affection, it makes you smile all giddy every time

- his tail always betrays his words, like whenever you feel like he’s getting jealous, you’ll ask him upfront. And ofc he’ll say no, but two seconds later you feel his tail coiling around your thigh possessively. Or when you guys get into a fight and are still mad at each other afterwards, his tail will still wrap around your calve as a comfort. But he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

- does the lil “come here” waist grab combo before he kisses you🤤

!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!

❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- loves seeing how flustered you get by him just doing the smallest things, like when he flexes his arms or lowers his voice a little just to see your thighs clench and face get all red/purple

“Y/n..you listening to me, yawntusip?” He questions with a smirk that tells you he already knew the answer to his own question.

“Yes, yes I’m sorry, baby. Continue.” You responded, mind still focused on how the way he was looking at you and his deep voice made your panties unbearably slick.

“Mhm.. no. I rather do something else instead.”

- has such a huge breeding kink. Like he’s downright obsessed with how pretty you look all cockdrunk with his cum just leaking out of you. Makes him feralll.

- also has a courruption kink, size kink, slight spit kink, biting kink, Dacryphilla, and yeah this mf js freaky asf (but he keep it on the DL)

- speaking of him being freaky asf, he’d definitely fuck you in public. Like this man is balls deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he thrust back in, and he’s over here telling you shit like “shshsh, yawne.. don’t want them to hear you now do you? Mhm~fuck.. you must want them to with the way you’re clenching around me huh?” Like MHM😩

- he’s a eater. He’s such an eater. (js like his brother and daddy) your pussy is basically stress relief to him😭

- puts his hair in a bun before he eat it🫦

- doesn’t mind when you ask to return the favor, bc he loves seeing you on your knees in front of him, pretty lips wrapped around his thick tip and hands desperately gripping at his thighs as you try to push the rest of him into your mouth. The sight makes him js 😵‍💫

-so whipped for you 😭like this mf will do ANYTHINGGG for you, just say the word.

- loves watching you try to hold in your moans and whimpers, the way your face gets all puffy and hands start shaking and squeezing him desperately makes something primal awaken in him. And watching the tears finally spill over your face when he makes you cum? Fucking perfect to him.

- has a ‘sir’ kink too, you found out about it accidentally tbh😭

“Make sure you clean that cut, oeyä yawntu. Don’t want it getting infected.” He ordered softly, making you smile at his gentle yet stern demeanor.

“Yes, sir.” You quipped sarcastically, looking down at the bandage infront of you.

His whole body froze at the name, ears perking up and tail standing up in a ridged way “What?” He said lowly, his switch in energy making your body mimic his.

“I-uhm sorry I-“

“No. Don’t apologize, yawntu.” He walks over to you quickly before kneeling infront of you, kissing you hungrily. “Say it again.” Your tail sways around excitedly at his tone, body getting hotter by the second.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mhm..again.”

- a titty man definitely, he loves watching them bounce whenever he fucks you in missionary

- whenever he punishes you, orgasm denial/control and spanking are his go tos. He just loves how needy and whiney you get from him not giving you what you want.

“T-teyam, please! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah? You pissing me off says otherwise.” Another harsh slap.

You writhe and squirm under him, but it’s no use. Tears of frustration stream down you face once you feel two more slaps to your sensitive flesh.

“P-please, teyam. No..more.” You whine, chest heaving and mouth dry from your screams of protest. His expression softens at your small voice, hand coming down to rub the irritated skin back and forth gently.

“Alright, yawntu. No more.” He coos, leaning down to leave soft kisses on the back of your neck, “but don’t think I’m gonna let you cum at all tonight.”

- loves kissing you when your sitting on something, weather it be a counter or your bed, he just loves kissing you like that.

- grabs your waist to grind you down onto him/guide your movements

- “I’ll make it fit, Yawntu.”

- when he starts getting close he’ll whisper the DIRTIESTT shit in Navi to you 🫦

“Mhm~..Teyam, please..” you whine, the feeling of him using you and stretching your small, leaking pussy proving way too much for you.

“I know, ma’yawntu. Need you to be good for me ok?” He coos, holding the side of your face gently.

You lazily respond with a head nod, slowly losing yourself because of the feeling of your 4th orgasm building up in your core.

He shudders when your pussy clenches around him repeatedly, making him lean down to cadge you in with one of his arms, while the other holds your leg. Leaving slow, sloppy marks and kisses all over your soft skin.

“Hah~fuck..Niftxan ‘ekxin, oeyä tìyawn..Tsun ke ne tìng nga a prrnen~“

𝑱𝒂𝒌𝒆

❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- likes having you on his lap while he does small chores that don’t require him to be standing

- and he does that thing where he pats his lap so you know where you’re supposed to be😩

- whenever your stressed he’ll always trace the same pattern on your back, and it soothes you almost immediately

- veryy affectionate with you,he’s a man after all. He loves to show his woman how much he loves her.

- he always lifts up your chin/ grabs your waist before kissing you

- when you guys argue (which is rarely) he’s definitely a “come here” typa mf, bc he hates making his girl feel bad

- likes to bring you to his meetings just to have you sit there and look pretty

“Baby, what does that mean?” You ask while looking up at him innocently, the sight making him smile softly.

“It means knowing our location, babygirl (knowing our 20)” he responds, placing his hand on your head as you let out a soft “oh..” and continue to listen to him talk to the other warriors.

- likes to form tsaheylu before you guys fall asleep

- hugs from behind 🫦

- loves you guys height difference so much

- another one that babies tf outta you, no matter what. Especially if you’re close to your period/heat cycle

“Hey babygirl, how you feelin?” He says with a soft smile on his face as he walks over to you with a basket of your favorite fruits and cold water.

“Oo! You got yovo for me? You really didn’t have to do that, oeyä tìyawn. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded is all.” You explain, sitting up on your hands so he can sit down in front of you. And that’s when the pain hits. A sharp pain going straight up your spine into your head that makes you cry out. The ringing in your ears getting excruciatingly loud.

Jake is quick to get to your side, placing you on your side so your spine is stretched out. Reliving the pain almost immediately. “I know babygirl, I know. I’m right here.” He coos, pressing firm circles into the base of your neck, massaging out the excess tension. “Just breathe, okay, hon? I gotchu.”

- the emotional security this man provides is AMAZING LIKE🥹🩷

- you always crave him, not even just sexually but physically too. Just his smell,his vibe, his company. Just him. And it’s the same for him too.

- he never stops trying to impress you, just because he has you it doesn’t give him a reason to stop

- he does that thing where he’ll say your name and then point with his head/eyes to where he wants you to be😩

“And I just don’t know how I could-“ you ramble, stressed out because of the celebration later tonight.

“Y/n.” Jake says sternly, but softly. His baritone silencing you immediately.

He looks at you before looking at the bed and tilting his head softly, making you obey his order silently.

Once you sit on the bed, he stands between your legs, cupping your face with his big hands gently. “Baby..” he pauses to kiss your forehead gently. Making you melt into his touch. “Relax. We’re gonna figure it out,ok?” You nod softly at this, letting your nerves leave you.

“Plus I can’t wait to see how sexy your gonna look to-“ “OK, Alright!”

!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!

❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- lovesss having you in mating press and missionary, something about seeing all of your expressions makes him drill into even harder, just to see how you react.

- when you start whining and whimpering from the overstimulation, he’ll just cup your face and place soft kisses on your skin while saying, “I know, baby, I know.” Not even bothering to slow his pace on your poor cunt.

- “you look so pretty like this, baby” and “that’s my good girl” are his favorites

- finds it so hot whenever your tail wraps around him when he’s fucking you in doggy, it’s such an ego boost for him.

- pushes your legs back whenever he’s eatin it😩

- he loves cockwarming after a long day lemme tell you 😮‍💨

- he absolutely loves praising you, but also degrading you a little too🙈

“Awh hon, this wet just from a little kissing? Such a needy little slut for me.”

- his biggest kinks are breeding and size kink

- likes using toys on you, and definitely slips one inside you before you leave in the morning, just to watch your knees buckle whenever he presses that little button

- definitely an ass man, he loves squeezing it and watching it bounce whenever he has you in doggy

- “sir” kink 100%, especially when he’s punishing you.

- speaking of this tho, his brat taming? Phew lawd😩 he gives you exactly what you want and also you nothing at the same time.

“Ja-Sir!, please! Im-sorry!” You yelp, voice bouncing from his harsh thrust and tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation.

“Nuh-uh. Too late for that shit now, babygirl. Wanted to act like a little whore, so I’m gonna fuck you like one.” He growled, leaving yet another hard slap on your ass, making you whine in pain.

The pace he set was fast and deep, avoiding your sweet spot every time he thrusted back in. And pulling out whenever you got too close. It was absolute torture. Yet you craved it nonetheless.

“Sir..please. I can’t..” you say softly, making him finally hit your sweetspot with his thick tip, turing you into a moaning mess. “Alright, babygirl. But this is the only time you’re cumming tonight.”

- forehead kisses after sex🥹

- speaking of kissing, he’s such a good kisser (obvi bc he has experience but still🙄) he always goes at the pace you want, he knows where to put his hands, and he always puts so much feeling into them like ugh🤤

- cockwarming with you while you sit in his lap>>

𝑳𝒐’𝒂𝒌

❥𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- such a cuddle bug, like my baby loves being touched and touching you

- when you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you close to him. (Even tho he’s eye level with you because he’s so tall😭)

- hates seeing you sad, angry, etc and he does everything in his power to get you out of it.

“Hey mama, I got you some chocolate norm had stashed in the fridge.” He announces while walking into your room, shutting the door behind him with his foot.

“Thank you, sweet boy. I’m not that hungry though..” you say softly, tone quiet and deadpan. His ears perk up and flick at the tone of your voice, brows knitting together at your mood.

“Mama, what’s the matter?” He says softly as he climbs into your large bed, fit for the both of you. You say nothing, instead just rolling over and wrapping your arms around his much larger frame.

Chuckling softly at this, he kisses your head lovingly. “It’s ok, mama. I gotchu”

- likes teaching you the lingo his dad uses on the throat com, he just loves how genuinely intrigued you are when he tells you about it

- gets jealous very easily, he’ll be so quick to pick a fight with someone it’s not even funny

- hates when people touch his hair but loves when you do it

- whenever you guys talk, he always does the triangle method without realizing it. And it gets you flustered every single time😭

- “my girl can wear whatever tf she want but if you touch her ima break your jaw, it’s that simple” typa bf

- loves playing with your hair/ braiding it

- always stares at you, always. Whenever you walk by him and flash him a quick smile his whole train of thought just stops, kiri and neteyam always make fun of him for it😭

- especially if you guys are talking in a group of people, just a lil hand hold or eye contact with you will have this man melting

!!𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!!

❥𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾❥

- he’s definitely an eater just like his dad and teyam, but before he eats it he always kisses your thighs and ya lips (both of em…bc we all know know these men are js as much of pussy kisses as much as they are pussy eaters yfmm???)

- the second he puts his hair into that ponytail..phew yk you done for😩

- loves doing the finger + tounge combo js to hear you scream and cry out his name

- speaking of that he loves hearing you say his name, deadass makes his eyes roll back just because of the sound of your voice and the way your pussy squeezes him so hard

- does the knee thing whenever you guys make out (and always has his hands on ya tittes🤭)

- the make outs you guys have?..phew😩 sloppy and slow and bodies all pressed tg😩

- you put on a mini skirt one time as a joke and phew lawd..the way he bent you over so quickly and fucked your brains out🫦

- steals his dads camera to take pictures of you so whenever you guys are apart he has something of you to keep him company 🫶🏽

- absolutely adores your body, he loves how soft and squishy it is, especially your thighs and ass

- such an ass man, (like Jake😭)

- loves having you in doggy and missionary

- also I see him liking 69ing too, but he didn’t realized he loved it so much until you introduced it to him

- a switch, loves being in control and making you a cockdrunk mess for him but also loves when you fuck him

- he has such a huge oral fixation, like if you stick your fingers in his mouth while you’re riding him, he turns subby so quick 😮‍💨 or whenever you start randomly kissing and sucking on his hands his brain turns into putty, poor baby gets so overwhelmed by how good your mouth feels he almost cums untouched 🙁 breathing all heavy and face a mess.. ugh😍

- doesn’t really like quickies, but if you both are desperate he’ll do it. He just rather take his time with you, he loves watching you fall apart for him.

- he has a thing for whenever you touch his hands, like when you massage them gently and tell him how pretty they are or how nice they look he turns into a blushing mess, tail wagging and thumping against the floor wildly

- likes touching you in public to see how long you can keep quiet

- “Awh, what was that mama? I couldn’t hear you.” While having the most shit eating grin on his face

- loves teasing you about how much your tail sways and wags when you’re around him. And how much it’ll instinctively wrap around him.

- one of the ways he likes to punish you is making you sit in his lap while he tells you how to touch, cooing and teasing you when he sees your delicate, slow strokes turn more aggressive and needy. So he holds your hand to guide you at the pace he wants.

“Lo’ak!~ please..wanna cum so bad..” you whine frustratedly, moaning softly as he curls your fingers into your sweet spot. But it isn’t enough. You need him.

“Awe that’s too bad, baby. Shouldn’t have been such a needy slut before you got into this. Now you just gotta take it.” He says sternly, removing his hand from yours and placing them on your inner thighs.

“Lo’ak I-“

“I don’t care. Now keep touching, mama. And if I see you speeding up you’re not cumming at all tonight.”

- and yet anotha man that’s whipped asf for u, when you guys were officially mated, he swore he fell even more in love with you. Mf was already making plans for kids😭

- so so vocal😩 especially when you force him to be submissive(he acts like he hates it but yall both know damn well😭)

- another one who grabs your waist to grind you down onto him😩

- another “I’ll make it fit” mf, but he’ll taunt and tease you for how much your legs are shaking and the tears endlessly flowing from your eyes.

“Fuck!~ lo-lo’, wait..it’s not gonna fit..” you writhe and yelp, pathetically trying to push him away from you with your shakey legs.

He growls angrily at this, grabbing both of your legs with his hands and pushing them down next to your ears, folding you like a pretzel under his strong frame.

“Don’t, fuckin’ push me away, mama. Ever.” He seethes, your faces inches apart from each other. “Plus, your pretty little pussy seems to be doing just fine. Poor girl keeps getting greedier and greedier the more I push into you.” He places a slow, sweet kiss on your lips before pushing the rest of his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit to open you up even more.

The stretch makes you cry out and squirm, tears spilling down your face at the stimulation. “Awe, look at you sweet girl. Is my cock too much for you? You can handle it, baby. You said it yourself.” He teases, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face when you try respond to him, but all the comes out are little moans and whimpers.

He thrust into you softly, testing out the waters. You moan loudly at his slow movements, pussy clenching around him repeatedly as you reach for him aimlessly, mind already turned into mush. He chuckles at this, giving you his hand before carefully speeding up his pace. “My pretty girl, already cockdrunk? Mhm~ Fuck..can’t wait to turn you into my personal little cock sleeve~, want that, mama? Want me to fuck you so much that you only crave me?” His words make your pussy clench and squeeze around him repeatedly, letting him know everything he needed to before his pace turned ruthless.

──☆*:・ﾟ──☆*:・ﾟ──☆*:・ﾟ

𝑨/𝑵~ bc why did this take sm more longer than an actual fic? Im done 😭 I tried to make them all as even as I could, but some of them have more than the other (let’s take a huge guess on who I’m talking ab😭). Might make another one for the girls tbh🤭 but I hope yall like this, and if you want me to write more lmk🩷 I had fun with this one🥰

𝑫𝒖𝒄𝒆𝒔🫶🏽,

𝑳𝒖𝒗𝒗4𝒋4𝒚𝒃𝒆11~

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @professional-yapper @itchaboi-itchyboy @blue-slxt @hotdsworld @plooto @quicktosimp

𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒚 @eloquentreverie

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saltynametag · 1 year ago

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#it's the posture for me #dominic sessa #the holdovers

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mssalo · 4 months ago

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taste

Pairing: Neighbor!Older!Joel x Reader

Summary: After moving in next door, you've slowly chipped away at Joel's gruff exterior, turning his grumbling into smiles. One night, as you show up at his door with your usual charm, the playful teasing between you two shifts into something much more intense. When Joel finally gives in to his burning desire, he can't help but get lost in your sweetness, leading to a night filled with heated passion and uncontrollable cravings.

this is my first post, `m scared

Warnings: 18+. Explicit content. Unprotected sex. Age gap. Oral sex (female receiving). Intense dirty talk. Obsessive behavior. Protective dominance. Reader has she/her pronouns and a vagina(lol), Detailed descriptions of physical intimacy. MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact).

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you reached Joel’s porch, the sky a tapestry of deep oranges and purples.

It had been a while since you moved in next door, and over time, you’d chipped away at the gruff exterior of the man who now occupied far too many of your thoughts.

He wasn’t one for casual conversation or easy smiles—except, it seemed, when you were around.

You knocked lightly, and the door swung open almost immediately. Joel stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, his usual scowl softening just a little when he saw you.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that always sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping inside with a smile that you knew got under his skin. “Miss me?”

Joel closed the door behind you, shaking his head, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“You never give me much of a chance to miss you. You’re always showin’ up.”

You flopped onto his couch, making yourself comfortable as you flashed him a playful grin.

“You’re lucky I do. Imagine how quiet your life would be without me.”

“Quiet, maybe,” he muttered, his voice low and rumbling as he leaned against the wall, his dark eyes watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip. “But peaceful too.”

You rolled your eyes, unfazed by his teasing. “Yeah, right. You’d miss me if I stopped coming around, and you know it.”

A low, almost inaudible laugh escaped him, the sound deep and throaty, though his gaze lingered on you with a kind of burning curiosity.

“So, what brings you here tonight? Bored?” he asked, his voice carrying a rough edge, casual but with a hint of sharpness.

You shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see my favorite grumpy neighbor.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something darker in his gaze.

“That so?”

You grinned, leaning back on the couch and stretching out a little.

“Yeah. Besides, I think you secretly love having me around. Admit it.”

He shook his head, a soft grunt escaping him.

“You’re trouble, that’s what you are.”

You laughed, watching him from beneath your lashes. “Trouble, huh? I think you like trouble more than you’re letting on.”

His jaw tightened, the raw, darkened intensity of his voice rising.

“You’re too young to be throwin’ yourself into trouble like this,” he said, his voice rough and strained.

You tilted your head, smiling up at him, your voice dropping a little lower.

“Maybe I’m not the kind of trouble you think I am. Maybe I’m exactly what you need.”

Joel’s eyes darkened further, his posture stiffening as he shook his head again.

“Damn it, darlin’, you don’t know what you’re askin’ for.”

You leaned forward, catching his gaze and holding it. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He stared at you, his eyes tracing over your face and down the curve of your body.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, rough whisper, each word laden with unspoken desire.

“You’re beautiful, you know that? Always have been.”

Your heart stuttered at the unexpected compliment, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you tilted your head, offering him a playful smile.

“You’ve never told me that before.”

“Because I shouldn’t be sayin’ it,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he stepped closer, looming over you.

“But damn if I haven’t been thinkin’ it since the day you moved in.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. “Joel…”

“I’ve been dreamin’ about this,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as his fingers brushed against your cheek, trailing down your neck.

“Thinkin’ about how good it’d be to touch you like this.”

Your breath hitched, his touch sending waves of heat through you. “You have?”

“Every damn night,” he growled, his voice deep and throaty with desire.

“Every time I see you, all I can think about is how bad I want you. In every way.”

The raw hunger in his voice made your stomach flip, but you tried to stay composed. “So what’s been stopping you?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his hand dropping to your thigh, squeezing lightly. His voice, though rough and strained, was filled with raw longing.

“You’re too damn young, too damn good for me. I shouldn’t want you like this.”

You arched an eyebrow, your voice soft, teasing. “But you do.”

He groaned, the sound deep and resonant as his fingers tightened on your leg.

“Yeah, I do. More than I can stand, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your voice steady even though your body was practically humming with anticipation. “Then what are you waiting for?”

For a heartbeat, Joel stayed still, his eyes searching yours as if looking for a reason to hold back.

But when he found none, a low, guttural growl rumbled from deep within his chest. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was hard, rough, filled with the intensity of every moment he’d spent holding back.

His hands roamed over your body, fingers slipping under your shirt, grazing your skin with rough, calloused palms.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, the kiss deepening with every passing second.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his voice thick with desire as he looked down at you.

“Goddamn, you’re so fuckin' beautiful,” he muttered.

“Hot as hell, too. Been dreamin’ about you like this… and it’s even better than I imagined.”

Heat flushed through you at his words, your body aching for more as he hovered over you, his hands still exploring.

“Yeah? What else have you been dreaming about?”

Joel’s voice dropped to a rasp, his hand sliding up your thigh, gripping just above your knee.

“You. Spread out under me, lookin’ at me like you are right now. Spread open—showing me that sweet fucking pussy. Beggin’ for me to touch you.”

Your heart pounded as his words sank in, the sheer intensity of his desire making your head spin.

You arched into him, your voice breathy as you teased, “Who says I’m gonna beg?”

He smirked, his fingers trailing higher, teasing the edge of your shorts.

“We will see, darlin’. But for now I’m gonna give you everything you’ve been wantin’.”

With one smooth motion, Joel tugged your shorts down, his hand immediately finding your pulsing heat, under your baby blue panties, fingers slightly teasing you as he watched your reaction with dark, hungry eyes.

You gasped, your back arching as his fingers worked you slowly, deliberately, purposely.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moaned, your hands clutching at his arms as he continued to tease you, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck.

“You’re—fuck—so good.”

He groaned against your skin, the sound low and possessive, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

“I’ve been dreamin’ of hearin’ you say my name like that. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, darlin’. You’re perfect. Fuck.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through your body, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as his fingers moved with skill around your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

When his lips found yours again, you were lost, drowning in the sensation of him, the feel of his hands, his mouth, and the deep, gravelly sound of his voice in your ear as he murmured,

“You’re so damn beautiful. Can’t believe I waited this long. So stupid.”

You whimpered, your body trembling beneath him as he pushed you closer and closer, his fingers working you in perfect rhythm until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel, I—”

He growled softly, his hand tightening on your thigh as he kissed you hard, but right before you reached that sweet high, his fingers stopped.

You gasped, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you in a daze, your body aching with the need for more.

“Need to taste you, baby. Been wantin' it so bad.”

Joel’s lips trailed a heated line from your mouth down to your neck, each kiss a tantalizing brush of warmth against your skin.

His touch was deliberate, his breath hot and uneven as he moved lower, his eyes dark with desire.

His hands gently pushed your thighs apart, his touch sending shivers through you as he settled between your legs.

His breath hitched slightly, a deep, hungry growl escaping him as he looked up at you, his eyes full of a possessive, smoldering heat.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he rasped, his voice low and thick with need, as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to the inside of your thigh.

The feeling of his lips so close to where you needed him most made your breath catch, anticipation and excitement building in the pit of your stomach.

With a deliberate slowness, Joel’s lips found their way to your most intimate place.

His breath against you was warm, each exhale a tantalizing caress that made you shiver with anticipation.

He paused for a moment, his face mere inches from your core, taking in your scent—the musky, sweet aroma that was uniquely you.

Joel inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he savored the intoxicating smell of you.

The scent was heady, rich with the essence of desire, and it made his pulse quicken and his entire body shudder with a primal hunger.

He let out a low, shuddering breath, the sound escaping him in a groan of deep satisfaction.

The scent, so personal and intimate, filled his senses, amplifying his desire as he felt every inch of his control slipping away.

His breath against you was hot and uneven, his entire body trembling slightly as he tried to hold back the feral need surging through him.

Joel’s eyes were dark with a mixture of awe and lust as he looked up at you, the sight of your flushed skin and the way you responded to his touch only heightening his desire. He could feel the raw, primal urge to taste you, to fully indulge in the intoxicating aroma that was driving him wild.

Unable to resist any longer, he pressed his lips to you, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweet, heady flavor that had been teasing him.

The taste was as intoxicating as the scent, and it drove him to growl deeply, his voice resonating with a rough, satisfied tone as he continued to explore you.

“oh fuck,” he muttered, his voice a low, guttural rasp, “you taste so fuckin` perfect, I can’t get enough.”

His tongue danced over your sweet clit with relentless hunger, sucking and licking. As he savored every part of you, he couldn’t help but rut against the couch in desperate frustration.

The intensity of his arousal was almost unbearable, and he found himself grinding against the cushion, the friction only adding to his mounting desire.

Joel’s grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging in as he continued to taste you even deeper with greedy fervor.

“fuck, you’re drivin me insane with this sweet pussy”

he growled into you, his voice thick with a mix of desperation and obsession.

“I can’t get over how goddamn perfect you are. `been wanting this for so long, and now that I have you… I can’t stop.” he says, slurping loudly, messy.

Your body responded instinctively to his touch, every flick of his tongue, suck between his plump lips and every rough breath only heightening your own pleasure.

The sound of his low, desperate growls, the way his body moved against the couch, all combined to create an atmosphere charged with raw, unrestrained passion.

Joel’s movements became more frantic, his tongue working you with an almost frantic intensity.

“you have no idea what you’re doin` to me,”he rasped, his voice hoarse with need.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

His admission only fueled your desire, your body trembling with each touch and taste as you responded to him with equal fervor.

And as Joel continued to lose himself in the sensation, rutting against the couch with an almost animalistic need, it was clear that nothing would stop him from savoring every moment of this intoxicating connection.

Joel's tongue moved relentlessly against you, each stroke deliberate and filled with a raw, insatiable hunger.

His deep, guttural growls reverberated through his chest, the sound mingling with the muffled cries that escaped your lips. His face was buried between your legs, and he showed no sign of slowing, his need to taste every inch of you driving him to a fever pitch.

"y` taste so good," he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he lapped at you with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"I can’t get enough of you. so sweet, so perfect, I just want to make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

The heat of his breath, the way his tongue worked you with an almost frenzied intensity, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Every flick of his tongue, every rough, needy groan, drove you wild. Your hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer, your back arching as you tried to chase the growing pressure that built in your core.

"Joel, oh god," you whimpered, your voice breathless and desperate.

"I’m so close. Don’t stop, please—"

His growl was a low, primal sound, vibrating through your entire body.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice muffled but still filled with that familiar rough edge.

“let me hear you. I wanna feel you come apart for me. I want you to lose yourself, to give it all to me.”

With every word, every sound, Joel drove you closer to the edge. His tongue flicked and circled your clit with a masterful touch, pushing you right to the brink. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with the pleasure he was giving you.

The heat between your legs was overwhelming, a wave of sensation that crashed over you in a relentless tide.

“Joel, I—” you began, but the words were lost in a broken cry as he pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit with a force that took you by surprise, your body convulsing as the pleasure surged through you.

You gasped, your breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps as Joel’s tongue continued to work you through the climax, savoring every shuddering response you gave him.

“that’s it, darlin’, come for me,” Joel urged, his voice rough and strained as he lapped at you with feverish intensity.

“feel it, let it all out. I want you to come all over my face.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his tongue, drove you to a second, even more intense peak.

You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tightly as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your body trembled, your thighs quaking as he kept his relentless rhythm, his own breathing heavy and ragged as he tasted every drop of your release.

When you finally came down from the high, your body still shivering with aftershocks, Joel’s touch softened, his movements more tender now as he kissed and licked you gently, savoring the last remnants of your orgasm.

His eyes were dark with a mixture of satisfaction and possessiveness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“you were amazing,” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with admiration as he looked up at you.

“so perfect, darlin’. I could taste you all night.”

Your breathless, sated smile met his gaze, and you reached down to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing softly over his skin.

“you know how to make a girl feel special,” you whispered, your voice still tinged with the lingering effects of your climax.

Joel’s breath was ragged, his gaze locked onto yours with a possessive intensity that made your heart race.

He pulled back slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath. But the desire in his eyes never wavered; if anything, it deepened.

“you’re so fuckin` hot,” he growled, his voice a low, rough rasp.

“- every inch of you. I need to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around me.”

You could barely respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax.

But the need in Joel’s eyes drove you to beg.

“please, Joel,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw need. “- want you so bad. I need you to fill me up. please, give me your cum.”

His gaze darkened further, a shudder of anticipation running through him.

He reached down, positioning his cock at your entrance once more.

“fuck, you’re so eager,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

“- you want me inside you, huh? want me to claim you, hm?”

“yes,” you moaned, arching into him, your body aching for his touch. “I want you to fill me, to make me yours. don’t hold back.”

Joel’s eyes were burning with an intense, almost feral hunger as he began to push into you, his cock stretching you deliciously. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with need.

“every inch of you belongs to me.”

You gasped as he thrust deeper, the sensation of him filling you completely sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Joel, you feel so amazing,” you moaned, your voice trembling with desire.

“I’m so close. I want you to make me come again. I need your cum inside me.”

His pace quickened, each thrust deliberate and powerful.

“you want it that bad, huh?” he growled, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. “you want me to fill you up, to mark you as mine?”

“yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, your voice desperate.

“I need you to come inside me. make me yours. I want to feel you. I want to feel your cum.”

Joel’s movements became more urgent, animalistic, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“you’re so perfect,” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with possessive pride.

“so fucking tight. I’m gonna give you everything you’ve been begging for.”

His pace picked up, each thrust driving him deeper into you, the rhythm steady and relentless.

“fuck, so good,” he growled, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction.

“you’re mine, darlin’. every time I see you, every time I touch you, I want to remind you just how much I need you.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel let out a guttural growl, his cock throbbing as he came inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely.

“fuck,” he moaned, his voice strained with pleasure.

“I’m never letting you go. you’re mine.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling as you felt his release, the sensation pushing you to the edge once more. “Joel, yes,” you cried, your voice breaking with the intensity of your pleasure.

“you’re making me come again. I —”

Joel’s arms tightened around you, his movements slow and deliberate as he rode out his orgasm.

“that’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and fierce pride.

“come for me, darlin’. let me feel you come all over my cock.”

The combined sensations of his release and your own climax left you breathless, your body trembling beneath him.

Joel’s lips found yours, his kiss deep and possessive as he whispered against your mouth, “so perfect. you’re mine, now and forever.”

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, Joel’s grip on you remained firm, his eyes never leaving yours.

The connection between you was stronger than ever, a blend of passion and possession that promised more intense moments in the future.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “better than your dreams?”

Joel chuckled softly, his voice low and tender as his thumb gently brushed your cheek.

“darlin’, you’re better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, that same soft, teasing grin still on your lips as you gazed up at him. “glad I could make your dreams come true, old man.”

His eyes darkened at the playful jab, and before you could say another word, Joel leaned in, pressing a rough, claiming kiss to your lips.

“you keep pushin’ me,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and gravelly, “and I’ll show you just how much I’ve been holdin’ back.”

The warmth of Joel’s body pressed against yours, his possessive gaze locked onto your face. His hand trailed lazily over your skin, sending little shivers through you as he traced circles along your waist. The heat between you had cooled slightly, but the intensity of his presence remained.

You lay there, chest still rising and falling as you caught your breath. Joel leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, a rare moment of tenderness from the man who had been all passion and dominance moments earlier.

“You okay?” he asked, his gravelly voice now softer, more intimate.

You smiled, a lazy grin spreading across your face as you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless. “More than okay.”

His lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Good. Didn’t want to be too rough on you.”

You laughed lightly, fingers brushing through his messy hair. “I can handle you, Joel.”

He chuckled, the deep sound rumbling through his chest as he pulled you closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. “You definitely can.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the weight of what had just happened settling in. You had crossed a line, but it felt inevitable. Joel had been circling your thoughts for so long, and now that you had given into each other, it felt like the only natural conclusion.

As you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, your mind wandered to what came next. This wasn’t just a casual fling—not with the way Joel had looked at you, the way he had spoken to you with such raw honesty and desire.

“What are we doing, Joel?” you asked softly, your voice cutting through the silence.

He stiffened slightly, his arms tightening around you. He let out a deep sigh, as if the question had been hanging between you for a while, waiting to be asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest. “I just know I want you. That I need you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his voice surprising you. You had never seen Joel like this—open, exposed.

“And you’ve got me,” you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “But where do we go from here?”

Joel shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, were softer now, more open.

“We figure it out,” he said, his voice steady, but there was a hint of uncertainty in it. “I ain’t gonna pretend like I have all the answers. But I know I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t just a moment of weakness or lust—Joel wanted more, just like you did.

“I don’t either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want more.”

Joel’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as he leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was a stark contrast to the heated passion from earlier—a kiss that spoke of something deeper, more meaningful.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, his voice firm. “Figure things out, day by day.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “Okay. Day by day.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, and he kissed you again, slow and deliberate. When he pulled away this time, his eyes were filled with that same possessive intensity that had sent a thrill through you earlier.

“But make no mistake, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that made your heart race. “You’re mine now. And I don’t plan on lettin’ anyone else have you.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, the idea of belonging to Joel, of being claimed by him, felt right. You leaned up, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Joel’s eyes darkened at your words, and he pulled you close again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that promised more than just passion. It promised commitment, something solid in the midst of the uncertainty.

For now, that was enough. You had Joel, and he had you—and together, you would figure out what came next.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

I accidentally deleted this post bruh

pussy whipped like me. this was my first fic, hope you enjoyed it.

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zomb-core · 7 months ago

Text

۫ ꣑ৎ A TRIM || carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: mentions of losing a parent.

pure fluff

“a trim, got it?”

carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.

you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.

he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”

“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”

he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”

you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.

you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”

“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.

you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.

the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.

you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.

the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.

eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.

“what do you think? did I do okay?”

he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.

“it looks great, thank you.”

your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,

“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”

“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”

he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”

masterlist

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hayatheauthor · 9 months ago

Text

Writing Rage: How To Make Your Characters Seem Angry

Anger is a powerful emotion that can add depth and intensity to your character's personality. If you're facing issues realistically expressing your characters' rage, here are some quick tips to help you get the ball rolling. Whether your character is seething with quiet rage or exploding in a fit of fury, these tips will help you convey their emotions vividly to your readers.

This is blog one in my writing different emotions series. Go check it out to explore more emotions!

Facial Expressions

Furrowed Brows: Describe the deep lines between their eyebrows, signaling frustration or intensity.

Tightened Jaw: Mention their clenched jaw, indicating suppressed anger or tension.

Narrowed Eyes: Highlight how their eyes narrow, showing suspicion, irritation, or anger.

Raised Upper Lip: Note the slight curl of the lip, suggesting disdain or contempt.

Flared Nostrils: Describe how their nostrils flare, indicating heightened emotions like anger or aggression.

Body Language and Gestures

Crossed Arms: Show their defensive stance, portraying resistance or defiance.

Pointing Finger: Describe them pointing accusatively, conveying aggression or assertion.

Fist Clenching: Mention their clenched fists, symbolizing anger or readiness for confrontation.

Hand Gestures: Detail specific hand movements like chopping motions, indicating frustration or emphasis.

Aggressive Posturing: Describe them leaning forward, invading personal space to intimidate or assert dominance.

Posture

Tense Shoulders: Highlight their raised or tense shoulders, indicating stress or readiness for conflict.

Upright Stance: Describe their rigid posture, showing control or a desire to appear strong.

Stiff Movements: Mention their jerky or abrupt movements, reflecting agitation or impatience.

Eye Contact

Intense Stares: Describe their intense or prolonged gaze, signaling confrontation or challenge.

Avoiding Eye Contact: Note how they avoid eye contact, suggesting discomfort or a desire to disengage.

Glaring: Mention how they glare at others, conveying hostility or disapproval.

Dialogue

Raised or strained tone with variations in pitch reflects heightened emotions.

Short, clipped sentences or abrupt pauses convey controlled anger.

Use of profanity or harsh language intensifies verbal expressions of anger.

Volume increase, from whispers to shouts, mirrors escalating anger levels.

Monotonous or sarcastic tone adds layers to angry dialogue.

Interruptions or talking over others signify impatience and frustration.

Aggressive verbal cues like "I can't believe..." or "How dare you..." express anger explicitly.

Reactions

Physical Reactions: Detail physical responses like increased heart rate, sweating, or trembling, showing emotional arousal.

Defensive Maneuvers: Describe how they react defensively if someone tries to touch or talk to them, such as stepping back or raising a hand to ward off contact.

Object Interaction

Aggressive Handling: Show them slamming objects, throwing things, or gripping items tightly, reflecting anger or aggression.

Use of Props: Mention how they use objects to emphasize their emotions, like slamming a door or clenching a pen.

Descriptive Words:

Verbs:

Roared with fury, expressing unbridled anger.

Snapped in frustration, indicating sudden irritation.

Shouted angrily, releasing pent-up emotions.

Glared fiercely, showing intense displeasure.

Slammed objects in rage, symbolizing anger's physical manifestation.

Grunted in annoyance, displaying impatience.

Raged vehemently, portraying uncontrolled anger.

Adjectives:

Furious and incensed, conveying intense anger.

Seething with rage, bubbling beneath the surface.

Livid and fuming, exhibiting visible anger.

Agitated and irritated, showing growing impatience.

Enraged and wrathful, expressing extreme anger.

Vexed and irate, indicating annoyance.

Infuriated and incandescent, highlighting explosive anger.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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hoe4hotchner · 4 months ago

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Hi there! Can you write some HotchxColonelReader?! Like the Team comes by morging and sees Hotch, Strauss, Rossi and a woman from the army discussing something at Hotch's office about a case. Then, then discovery that THAT is the Hotchs' wife?! Sorry about my english. :) And Thank yoouuuuuuu!! I love all your work!!!

Absolutely!!! This was so much fun to write, and such a different prompt to what I usually get 🫶 Don't worry about your english ;) i'm not a native speaker 💕😘

Reverence | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱, 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘞𝘊: 1𝘬

The early morning haze clung to the bullpen, and the rhythmic hum of coffee machines mixed with the muffled clicks of keyboards as the team settled into their desks. The quiet lull of routine was only broken by Morgan’s curious gaze as he caught a glimpse of Hotch’s office from across the room. The blinds were open, revealing an unusual scene - Hotch, Strauss, Rossi, and an unfamiliar woman standing together in what could only be described as a tense, closed-door meeting. The three agents looked on edge compared to her.

“Hey,” Morgan called out quietly, his voice low with intrigue as he nodded toward the glass window. “What’s going on in there?”

JJ glanced over from her desk, noticing the woman in uniform standing alongside the senior agents. Her sharp, tailored military attire contrasted starkly against the office's corporate formality. The woman exuded authority; her posture was stiff, shoulders back, chin raised with the kind of self-assurance that comes from years of commanding subordinates.

“Who is she?” JJ whispered, leaning forward. “She looks like she’s ready to bark out several orders any second now.”

Morgan folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Definitely military or marines. Look at that posture. You don’t stand like that out of free will unless you’ve seen action.”

Reid, already drawn into the mystery woman, was fidgeting with the edge of his sweater trying to piece the puzzle together. “Maybe she’s part of an interagency collaboration? It could be something related to national security.”

As the team watched, the woman turned slightly, her profile sharp and no-nonsense. Her movements were measured, and deliberate - every inch of her seemed to be about precision and control. Even though they were observing her through glass, it felt like her presence dominated the entire office.

They didn’t have long to speculate before the door to Hotch’s office clicked open. Strauss emerged first, her usual expression in place as she nodded to the agents, followed by Rossi, who sported his signature knowing grin with a quick wink. But it was the woman who truly commanded attention as she stepped into the bullpen. The clack of her polished boots against the floor was precise, each step purposeful and calculated. Her uniform gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the medals and badges catching the glint of rays from the morning sun through the windows. She held her head high, her gaze sweeping the room like a hawk surveying its territory.

Morgan straightened in his chair as she walked past, eyes wide with respect. “She’s definitely not here for pleasantries.”

Before anyone could add another word, the woman stopped, her sharp gaze locking onto the team. It wasn’t just a glance - it was the kind of stare that felt like being x-rayed. The whispers, the subtle looks, the quiet gossip - they hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and with a swift motion, she crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze narrowing.

The air in the room shifted instantly as she addressed them. Her voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable weight of authority. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

The team froze. Her tone wasn’t loud, but it was firm, resonating with the controlled power of someone who was used to giving orders. It sliced through the air like a knife, leaving a lingering tension in its wake. JJ’s mouth opened slightly, Morgan leaned forward, and even Reid looked uncharacteristically startled.

“No, ma’am,” they responded in unison, almost instinctively. The words tumbled out, a reflex to the command in her voice. It was as if, for a brief moment, they were recruits in boot camp being called to attention.

Her eyes lingered on them for a moment, assessing, before a flicker of amusement danced across her features. Her posture remained as strict as before, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. She nodded once, satisfied with their response, then turned her attention back to Hotch, who stood quietly in the doorway of his office.

“I’ll be returning to base,” she said, her voice noticeably softer, though still firm. She gave Hotch a look that lingered just a fraction too long for it to be strictly professional.

“Thank you for coming by,” Hotch replied, his tone warm but restrained. There was something different about the way he spoke to her - his usual clipped authority was replaced by an almost imperceptible tenderness.

“Of course,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Then, her voice dropped into something far more intimate. “Aaron.”

The use of his first name hung in the air, so casual, so familiar, yet it sent shockwaves through the team.

JJ’s eyes widened. “Did she just call him Aaron?”

Morgan’s jaw nearly dropped. “Hold up. Did she just—?”

The woman didn’t wait for their reactions. With a brisk turn, she walked out of the office, her boots echoing down the hallway as she left, her military bearing never faltering. It was only after the door had swung shut behind her that Rossi, who had been watching the whole thing with barely concealed amusement, let out a chuckle.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Rossi said, crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk in the bullpen. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is Hotch’s wife.”

The team stared at him, slack-jawed.

“His wife?” JJ managed, her voice unbelieving.

“Colonel actually,” Rossi clarified, eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’s been in the army for years. Taught Hotch everything he knows about being strict.”

“She’s tougher than Hotch,” Morgan added, still trying to wrap his head around the revelation.

“Way tougher,” Rossi said, winking at the team.

“That was… something else.” Emily managed to say through her disbelief.

They turned to look at Hotch, before he returned to his office, his expression unreadable as he resumed his work. For a brief second, though, as his gaze flicked toward the team, they could see the faintest smile - a private, almost imperceptible curve of his lips.

“You never asked,” he said simply, allowing a rare smile to tug at the corners of his lips before turning his attention back to his office and paperwork, leaving the team still gaping.

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yesmissnyx · 1 year ago

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God, I love posture correction as an act of dominance.

Tapping them between the shoulder blades to remind them to stand up straight. Guiding them into the correct position with gentle hands. Pulling their hair to remind them to keep their shoulders back.

Leaning in and whispering, "Straighten your spine, sweetheart, there's a good pet. Look at you, sitting all pretty, just for me 💞"

#fdom #bd/sm kink #fem domme #k!nk #k1nk #nsft concept #nyxposting #p3t pl4y #gentle fdom #gentle domination #soft domination #soft bd/sm #wlw domme #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw

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aliyahwritings · 2 months ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (02)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.1k

Aliyah's Notes: rafe triple appearances 👏 i actually rlly like this yk like the pacing and the dynamics are great imo. i hope u all will like it too. reader seems like such a jobless ho in this chap but she's booked and busy yall i promise

As the early morning sunlight streamed through the large windows of your apartment, you stood in front of your full-length mirror, taking a deep breath as she surveyed her reflection. Today was the day—the day you would finally meet Rafe Cameron and discuss the terms of your marriage arrangement. The thought made your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Despite your bubbling personality, the pressure of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders. You had spent the past few days steeling yourself for this moment, and now that it was finally here, the reality of it sent your heart racing.

You glanced at your closet, a vibrant array of outfits hanging neatly. You had planned to wear something that screamed “fabulous”, but time was slipping away from you. You settled on a leopard-print strapless top, pairing it with a denim mini skirt. You slipped on your favorite black heels, which added just the right amount of height and made your legs longer. You grabbed your black Prada bag, a reminder of the success you had fought so hard to achieve.

Despite your nerves, you felt a surge of excitement. This meeting was a step forward resolving your visa issues, and you were determined to make the best of it. You wanted to present yourself as confident, someone who could hold your own—especially when facing someone like Rafe Cameron.

You slipped into the back seat of your private car, offering a quick nod to your driver, Gregory. As the engine purred to life, you felt your heart pounding in your ears, each beat amplifying the weight of anticipation.

When you arrived at the law office, your gaze immediately landed on Nicolas, your lawyer. He stood up from his chair and made his way over, exchanging small talk that felt oddly comforting amid the tension. Together, you entered the meeting room, where Rafe and his lawyer were already waiting for you.

Even seated, his presence dominated the space. His broad shoulders, casual posture, and confident smirk that made him look every bit the arrogant athlete you had read about. His lawyer, Sabrina Rashid, sat beside him, a sharply dressed woman who radiated professionalism. Rafe, on the other hand, looked annoyingly relaxed in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans.

Well, this made you look overdressed… Embarrassing, but you kept your head held high.

Nicolas gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

You slid into the chair opposite Rafe, offering a small nod to his lawyer before turning your attention to him. His blue eyes flickered over you, lingering longer than necessary. You could practically feel his ego inflate with every second.

“You’re late,” he drawled, breaking the silence. His voice was as cocky as his expression.

You arched a brow, setting your Prada bag on the table with a soft thud. “Hello to you too—and you’re lucky I showed up at all, considering your reputation.”

He smiled. “Feisty. I like that.”

And so, you cringed at his words. You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “Let’s get to the point, shall we?”

Nico cleared his throat, clearly eager to steer the conversation to business. “Yes, well, the purpose of today’s meeting is to discuss the logistics of the marriage arrangement—specifically, where you’ll be living, financial obligations, and how this will be handled publicly.”

“Publicly?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “I thought this was supposed to be discreet.”

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t do discreet, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glare. “I am not your sweetheart.”

“Not yet, but wait ‘till we’re married.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity, but recovered. “This isn’t going to be like that. We’re not doing some fake, lovey-dovey routine for the press.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Who said anything about love? I’m talking about looking like a normal couple, someone the media can’t tear apart every other week. It’s all about appearances, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me sweetheart.”

“Whatever you say,” he grinned. “Plus, you gotta admit, you and I? We’d be a headline every day, sweetheart.”

“Is he serio—”

Nico stepped in before you could respond. “Alright, enough. Let’s get back on track.” He glanced at Rafe’s lawyer, who nodded and opened a folder.

“First item on the agenda: where will you two be living?” Sabrina asked, her tone professional and no-nonsense. “Given that this marriage is primary for legal purposes, we need to establish residency. For it to be legitimate, you will need to live together.”

You shot a look at Rafe, who was already smirking like he’d won some kind of silent argument. “I’m not moving in with him,” you said flatly.

“You think I’m thrilled about having a roommate? Especially one who probably spends hours in front of the mirror.”

You crossed your arms. “I do not.”

Lies.

“Oh, please. You’re a model. You probably have a different skincare for every day of the week.”

“And it’s supposed to be a bad thing because…?” You frowned. “You should take exemple. You look like you wash your face with body soap.”

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s focus, kids.”

Rafe’s lawyer continued, ignoring the banter. “You’ll need to appear as though you’re cohabiting. If not, immigration authorities will become suspicious, and the arrangement could fall apart.”

You narrowed your eyes at Rafe. “Where do you live, anyway?”

He learned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’ve got a place in SoHo. Penthouse. Nice view, great amenities. It’s got plenty of space for you to do… whatever it is models do.”

“Funny, I have my place in the Upper East Side. And I am not giving it up.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Upper East Side, huh? Posh.”

“I earned it.”

“Well, we’ll need to figure something out,” Sabrina interjected smoothly. “But you need to live together. In one place.”

Rafe looked amused. “You can have the closet space. I’m a sweet guy like that.”

“How generous,” you muttered, turning back to the lawyers. “Fine. We can do the whole ‘living in one place together’ thing. But I need time off, to stay at my place once in a while.”

Rafe winked. “Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

You ignored him. “What about finances? How is this going to work?”

Nico pulled out his own folder. “We’ve drafted a preliminary agreement outlining financial contributions from both parties. It’s important that this marriage appears legitimate, so we suggest pooling certain expenses—utilities, rent or mortgage payments, and shared household costs. This can be done through a joint account, which will be monitored to ensure the marriage looks genuine.”

You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, and you shot him a look. “A joint account? I hope you’re not expecting me to pay for your post-game drinks?”

He chuckled. “Relax. I’ve got more money than you can spend in a lifetime. The joint account is just for show. But if you want to chip in for groceries, I won’t stop you.”

“Oh, how noble of you,” you replied dryly.

Nico glanced between you and Rafe, clearly trying to keep the conversation on track. “This account will cover all necessary shared expenses—bills, groceries, and any incidentals that may arise from your living arrangements. It’ll help maintain the appearance of a genuine marriage.”

Sabrina nodded in agreement. “Exactly. As for your individual assets, those will remain separate. No need to worry about your personal finances getting tangled up.”

You relaxed a little at that. “Good.”

“And what about public appearances?” Rafe asked, sounding surprisingly serious. “How often do we need to do the whole ‘happy couple’ thing?”

Nico exchanged a look with Rafe’s lawyer. “You’ll need to be seen together frequently enough to make it believable, but not so much that it seems forced. A few key events—charity galas, public outings—will suffice. It’s important that you strike a balance.”

Rafe shrugged. “I’ve got games, events, plenty of opportunities to be seen.”

You sighed. “I have shoots, fashion shows, and meetings. We’re both busy.”

“Sounds like we’ll have to schedule our love life,” he quipped, flashing you a grin that made you want to throttle at him.

You gave him a sweet smile. “Good thing it’s not real.”

He laughed, and for a second, the tension in the room eased.

Nico shuffled his papers. “There’s one more thing to discuss—media coverage. Given that Mr. Cameron is already in the spotlight, it’s important to control the narrative.”

Sabrina continued; “We’ll need to issue a carefully crafted statement once the marriage is official. Something that explains how you met, why you’re together, and addresses any potential rumors before they can spiral out of control.”

“A public statement?” You cringed at the thought.

“It’s necessary,” Nico said. “If this looks like a publicity stunt, it could raise red flags with immigration.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, looking far too relaxed for the situation. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it believable. I’m great with the media.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what worries me,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Come on, sweetie. We’ll be the hottest couple in New York. Think of the headlines.”

“I’d rather not,” you moved your hands dismissively.

The lawyer continued discussing the finer details of the arrangement—contract clauses, confidentiality agreements, and timelines. You zoned out for a moment, your eyes drifting back to Rafe. Despite his infuriating attitude, there was something about him. Something that made you feel like this might not be the worst decision after all.

“I hope you’re prepared for the spotlight,” he said suddenly, snapping you back to reality. “The media’s gonna eat this up.”

You arched a brow. “Please. I’ve been in the spotlight longer than you have, and with far less drama.”

He grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

You leaned forward, meeting his gaze head-on, the space between you suddenly charged. “I’m not one of your little fangirls, Rafe. You might charm the media, but you’re not charming me.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, replaced by something darker, more intense. His gaze dipped, lingering on your exposed cleavage, heat flaring in his eyes. You felt a spark, your breath catching as your own eyes betrayed you, flickering to his lips—pink, curved, and way too tempting for your liking. The air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken challenge, the playful banter giving way to something far more dangerous.

Rafe’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, the weight of his stare pulling you in. The thought of what it would feel like to wipe that cocky grin off his face—or maybe even taste it—flickering through your mind.

But then Nico cleared his throat, shattering the moment like glass, and you quickly sat back, your heart racing as you wrenched your gaze away from Rafe’s.

“So, we have a deal?” Rafe asked, cutting through the tension.

You glanced at Nico, who gave you a subtle nod of reassurance. With a deep breath, you turned to Rafe and extended your hand. “Yes, we do.”

His hand clasped yours, warm and firm. “Looking forward to being your husband, sweetheart.”

“Looking forward to not being your wife,” you rolled your eyes, pulling your hand back. “This is purely business. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Whatever you say, wife.”

The next few days passed in a blur of contracts, legal jargon, and meetings with Nico, Sabrina, and Rafe. You had signed your life away—well, not really your life, but it certainly felt like it.

You were lounging in your Upper East Side apartment, scrolling through Instagram when your phone buzzed.

Rafe Cameron.

Just seeing his name made your stomach tighten with a mix of irritation and something else you couldn’t quite place. Hesitantly, you opened the message.

Rafe: “When do you plan on moving in?”

You stared at the screen for a second before typing.

You: “I’m not even packed yet… what the hell.”

Rafe: “What you waiting for? You’re not chickening out, are you, sweetheart?”

There it was again—sweetheart. That nickname got on your nerves, but you were determined not to let him get under your skin (although he already did).

You: “Stop calling me that, and also I have a job and a life. I can’t just drop everything to move into your stinky place.”

Rafe: “I’m offering help.”

You snorted at your phone. Right, because Rafe Cameron would actually help you pack your boxes.

You: “What are you gonna do? Carry my shoes for me?”

Rafe: “If it gets you here faster, then sure. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. Was he serious? You couldn’t picture Rafe Cameron, basketball star and all-around cocky jerk, standing in your apartment, packing boxes and loading them into a truck. The mental image alone was laughable.

You: “Wait! No!”

Rafe: “Why no? You need a few more days to decide on what to pick?”

You: “Jerk.”

Rafe: ":)"

You: “And I can’t move in yet. We need to make a public appearance and get married before I start packing and do all the move-in things.”

There was a pause before his response came through.

Rafe: “Fair.”

You: “Excited to live with me, am I right?”

Rafe: “Projecting much?”

You: “You wish.”

Rafe: “Ditto, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. You quickly clicked on the rolling eyes emoji as a response and threw your phone onto the couch, not wanting to keep talking to him.

The next morning, you blinked your eyes open, greeted by the familiar warmth of your apartment, and for a fleeting moment, you forgot about everything. The visage, the arrangement, the pressure, the stress, immigration, Rafe Cameron—all of it felt distant, like a strange dream.

But then reality settled back in.

You groaned softly, burying your face into your pillow for a second longer before sighing and throwing off the covers. Today was yet another meeting with the lawyers, and you already were over it.

You knew marriage was a lot of papers and documents, but you truly didn’t think it was this much.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you padded across the plush carpet to your closet, glancing at the outfits hanging neatly in a row. Usually, your first thought would be what designer outfit to wear today but you couldn’t muster the energy to care this morning. Today wasn’t about looking fabulous; it was about getting down to business, and you didn’t care how you looked because you’d be stuck in a room for hours with two lawyers and your future husband.

Future husband… God, how weird was it to say that about a man you didn’t even know.

Instead of focusing on it, you reached for a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a simple white tank top. You pulled a thick, cozy grey cardigan over your shoulders, its warmth a small comfort against the stress building in your mind.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your phone buzzed on the countertop, and for a moment, you thought it might be Rafe. But no, it was just a reminder from Nico about the meeting. You sighed, grabbed a cup of coffee, slipped into the backseat of your car and headed to the law office.

The law office was as sleek and imposing as ever—polished wood, glass walls, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. You stepped into the conference room, finding Nicolas and Sabrina already seated at the table, a stack of papers in front of them. They looked up and offered polite smiles as you entered.

“Morning,” you said, taking a seat and smoothing the sleeves of your cardigan.

“Morning, Y/N,” Nico replied, his tone friendly but businesslike. “How’re you feeling?”

You hesitated, offering a half-hearted smile. “A bit nervous and tired, I guess. But ready to get things moving.”

Nico nodded, glancing at the empty seat beside you before opening his mouth to speak, but Sabrina beat him to it.

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N, just to let you know—Rafe won’t be joining us today.”

Your heart sank, but you tried not to show it. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Last-minute practice session,” she explained, her tone casual. “It was unavoidable, apparently. He couldn’t get out of it.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. It wasn’t that you were angry—just… bothered. This was an important meeting, after all. Even though this marriage was fake, it still involved a lot of big decisions. Decisions you didn’t feel comfortable making without him.

“Okay,” you said after a moment. “I guess we’ll have to catch him up later, then.”

Sabrina gave you a sympathetic look. “I’ll make sure he’s informed about everything. I know it’s frustrating, but Rafe’s schedule can be pretty unpredictable.”

“I get it,” you replied with a shrug, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s just... this is important, you know? It would’ve been nice to have him here for this.”

“I understand,” Sabrina said gently. “And I’ll make sure he’s fully briefed on everything. He’s committed to this, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.”

You nodded, still feeling a bit unsettled but trying to brush it off. He was used to a chaotic schedule, and you couldn’t expect him to drop everything for every meeting. But still... you couldn’t shake the slight discomfort gnawing at you.

“Okay,” you said, trying to focus on the task at hand. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Nico flipped through the stack of papers in front of him. “We’ve got a lot to cover. First off, the wedding itself. We need to finalize a date, and given your visa situation, we’re looking at a timeline of about three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you exclaimed, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. It was sooner than you’d expected, but you understood the urgency. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Nico said, waving his hands. “We need to move quickly. The sooner the marriage is official, the sooner we can start the immigration process. And in the meantime, you and Rafe will need to be seen together publicly—on dates, outings, and even social media.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Public appearances... right. How often are we talking?”

“Enough to make it believable,” Sabrina took over. “We don’t want to overwhelm you, but it’s important that you’re seen together frequently. A few key public outings, some posts on social media—it’ll help establish the narrative that you’re a real couple.”

You nodded. “And Rafe’s on board with all of this?”

“He is,” Sabrina reassured you. “We’ve discussed it, and he knows what’s required.”

“Okay,” you said, feeling a bit more reassured but still uneasy. The idea of staging your life for the public was daunting. It wasn’t just about attending a few events or posting pictures—it was about selling the image of a relationship that didn’t exist. And with Rafe not even here for the planning, you couldn’t help but feel a little disconnected from it all.

You smiled faintly. “It just feels... strange, doing all of this without Rafe. I mean, I know it’s a fake marriage, but it would still be nice to have him involved, you know?”

“I understand,” Sabrina said. “It’s not ideal, but Rafe’s committed to this. His schedule is unpredictable right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s not invested in making this work.”

You nodded, trying to take comfort in her words. Maybe Rafe’s absence wasn’t a sign of disinterest—maybe it was just bad timing.

Nico continued, flipping through the papers. “Let’s move on to the wedding itself. Have you given any thought to what kind of ceremony you want?”

“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it at all.”

“Alright,” Nico said, nodding.

“A small ceremony,” you echoed, thinking it over. “It… It could be nice, no? That could work—but shouldn’t Rafe have a say in this?”

“He will,” Nico assured you. “Mrs. Rashid will loop him in on everything. But for now, we need to focus on logistics. The venue, the guest list, the timeline—it’s all about making sure everything looks legitimate to immigration.”

“Okay. Let’s go with the small ceremony, then. But I’d still like Rafe’s input before we make any final decisions,” you said softly, your cheeks warming slightly.

“Of course,” both lawyers said with a smile.

The conversation shifted to the finer details—the venue, the guest list, the timing of public appearances. It felt more like planning an elaborate PR campaign than a wedding, but you tried to stay focused. Every decision was one step closer to securing your future, even if it didn’t feel real.

The meeting felt like a marathon. You exhaled a long, tired sigh, your head spinning with wedding details and timelines. You couldn’t help but glance at your phone again, half-expecting a message from Rafe. But there was nothing. He was at practice, wrapped up in whatever game plan his team was working on.

You adjusted the strap of your tote bag and pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself as you headed for the door. But as you opened it, you stopped short, nearly walking straight into someone standing just outside.

“Whoa—” A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, and you blinked up to see Rafe Cameron standing there, leaning against the doorframe, as if he had been waiting for you.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, surprise laced in your voice. You hadn’t expected him to be here, especially after Sabrina said he wouldn’t make it.

He straightened up quickly, looking just as startled as you. “Y/N… uh, hey. I—uh, I’m sorry I missed the meeting,” he stammered, his usual confident demeanor slipping for a moment. “I couldn’t miss practice…”

You stood there, momentarily frozen. It wasn’t like him to stutter—and it threw you off. “Oh… right. Yeah, no, it’s fine, don’t worry. Sabrina said you had practice,” you said, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

He shifted his weight, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Yeah, I, uh… tried to make it, but, you know… basketball.”

You nodded slowly, still surprised that he had actually shown up. “Well, the meeting’s over. Sabrina said she’ll catch you up on what we discussed.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll talk to her,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, so... goodbye?”

“Goodbye,” he said, looking down at the floor for a second before glancing back at you. There was a brief, awkward silence that stretched between the two of you. Neither of you moved, though you weren’t sure why.

Finally, Rafe cleared his throat, and his gaze flickered over your outfit. A slow smirk crept onto his face, his familiar cockiness returning. “So... what’s with the sweatpants and cardigan? Didn’t know you had it in you to dress so casually.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the teasing tone. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Just saying... it’s not exactly the runway look I was expecting from a supermodel.”

You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat before you could stop it. “You’re one to talk, Mr. I-show-up-in-a-T-shirt-to-a-business-meeting,” you shot back, your lips curving into a smile.

Rafe’s eyes lit up slightly, surprised by your reaction. It was the first time you had actually laughed at something he said, and for a moment, he just stared at you, taking in the sound. Cute, he thought to himself, the word slipping into his mind unbidden.

“At least my T-shirt was designer. This,” he flicked his gaze over your cardigan, “looks like something you stole from your grandma’s closet.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “I happen to like this cardigan, thank you very much. It’s cozy.”

He grinned. “Cozy, is it? Guess you’re preparing for the life of domestic bliss we’re about to have. How cute.”

You shook your head, fighting another smile. “Funny—like you even know the meaning of domestic bliss.”

He tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “Who says I don’t? I could be all about the cozy life. You don’t know me.”

You arched a brow. “Really? You? In sweatpants, lounging on a couch, binge-watching Netflix?”

“I can be a homebody if I want to,” he said, shrugging, though the teasing glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t being serious. “Give me some credits, alright? I can rock sweatpants.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Maybe you will. You’ll be living with me soon enough—” you froze slightly at that reminder, and your smile wavered. He noticed the shift and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll make sure to show up to the next meeting. Promise.”

You gave him a small nod, still smiling. “You’d better.”

He nodded, and for the first time since you’d met, there was no teasing in his expression—just quiet understanding. You gave him one last look before heading down the hall, feeling the warmth of your laugh still lingering in the air between you.

And Rafe stood there watching you walk away, thinking about how cute your laugh was—and how much he wanted to hear it again.

chapter three

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emoerotica · 2 months ago

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"What You Want"

・❥・Sevika x Reader Smut・❥・

Sevika takes you out to the newest party in Zaun. But instead of focusing on the scenery you're surrounded by, you set your focus on something better. Something bigger. Something you can't keep your need from.

・❥・・❥・

"What You Want"

The pounding bass of the club's music reverberated in your chest, a wild symphony of sound mingling with the laughter and shouts of patrons. The air was heavy—thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and the faint tang of smoke. Bodies writhed on the dancefloor, their movements a chaotic blur of energy and color under the pulsing neon lights.

A firm hand curled around your arm, grounding you in the chaos. "This way," Sevika’s gravelly voice cut through the noise. Her grip was steady, guiding you through the throng with effortless authority. The crowd seemed to part for her, whether by sheer force of presence or the sharp, don't-mess-with-me glare etched on her face.

You found yourselves at a small, battered table tucked in the shadowy corner of the club. The worn leather couch creaked as you settled into it, its surface sticky and cracked from years of abuse. Across from you, Sevika sank into her chair with a casual confidence, her broad shoulders stretching the fabric of her jacket.

The table was alive with action. A group of men sat around it, cards in hand, gold scattered across the tabletop. Their conversation was loud and raucous, peppered with curses and boasts as they gambled away their winnings.

Sevika leaned forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the table like a predator sizing up prey. “Deal me in,” she said coolly, her tone leaving no room for argument. One of the men looked up, startled, but before he could protest, Sevika tossed a handful of gold onto the pile, the coins clinking loudly against the table.

“You’re late to the game,” one of the men muttered, his tone a mix of irritation and nervousness.

Sevika smirked, not bothering to hide the arrogance in her expression. “I make up for it with skill.”

Before the dealer could even reach for the cards, Sevika’s hand shot out, snatching a half-empty glass of amber liquid from the man beside her. His jaw dropped in protest. “Hey! That’s—”

Sevika silenced him with a look—a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. “Relax, you’ll live.” She swirled the glass lazily, the liquid catching the light before she took a long, deliberate swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she set the glass down with a sharp *clink*.

The man muttered under his breath but didn’t push the issue. Sevika leaned back in her seat, adjusting herself with an air of nonchalance. Her legs spread slightly, her posture oozing confidence and control as she glanced over the cards she’d been dealt.

Your gaze wandered, drawn to her without meaning to. The curve of her shoulders, the defined lines of her arms, the way her movements seemed both calculated and effortless—it was impossible not to notice. Heat rose to your cheeks as you caught yourself staring. You quickly looked away, your heart thundering in your chest.

A low chuckle rumbled from Sevika’s chest, pulling your attention back to her. She was watching you now, her head tilted slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “See something you like?” she drawled, her tone teasing yet edged with confidence.

Your face burned as you scrambled for a response, but nothing coherent came out. She laughed softly, shaking her head, before turning her attention back to the game. Despite the haze of embarrassment, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, mesmerized by the raw power and charisma she carried so effortlessly.

The game dragged on, tension thickening at the table as cards exchanged hands and gold shifted piles. Sevika played with a lazy confidence, a smirk curling her lips every time she laid down a winning hand. It was a game of dominance as much as skill, and she owned the table with every flick of her wrist.

Finally, with one last play, Sevika tossed down her cards. “Rotten luck, boys,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. A low laugh rumbled from her throat as she leaned back, arms draped over the back of the couch in a pose that screamed triumph.

The men groaned in disappointment, curses flying as they collected their remaining coins. The ambient noise of the club—booming music, raucous laughter, and shouted conversations—swallowed their frustration. But none of it mattered to you. Your attention was locked on Sevika.

The way she moved was hypnotic, her every shift of muscle an unspoken declaration of power. Your gaze traced the lines of her body: the bronze gleam of her skin under the neon lights, the sharp definition of her arms, the subtle curve of her collarbone visible where her shirt opened slightly. She tilted her head, smirking as she idly spun one of the discarded cards between her fingers, completely at ease.

Your heart raced as you realized your staring had become more obvious. You shifted awkwardly, nerves prickling at your skin as the men beside you jostled for space. The club felt too small, too hot, and the press of bodies around you only added to your unease. Adjusting yourself on the couch, you tried to focus on anything but Sevika—but your eyes betrayed you.

When you glanced back at her, you froze.

Her gaze was locked on you now, dark and unreadable. Her smirk softened into something more intimate, more deliberate, as her eyes roamed over you. Slowly, deliberately, they traveled from your lips, up to your eyes, and back again. The club’s chaos seemed to dim, leaving just the two of you in a charged silence.

Your breath hitched under the weight of her attention. It wasn’t just the way she looked at you—it was how she did it, like she was peeling back every layer of your composure with a single glance. You swallowed hard, the heat in your chest spreading to the pit of your stomach.

“Getting comfy over there?” Sevika’s voice broke the moment, low and teasing, though her eyes never left yours.

“I—uh...” Words failed you. You could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your pulse, let alone form a coherent response.

Sevika chuckled, her grin widening as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Careful,” she murmured, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You keep looking at me like that, people might start getting ideas.”

The air between you felt electric, the tension building with every passing second. It was impossible to look away, impossible to breathe without feeling her gaze on you. And the way she looked at you now—hungry, confident, and completely unapologetic—left you wondering if she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

Sevika stretched leisurely, rolling her shoulders as if shedding the weight of the night’s game. With a smirk of satisfaction, she scooped up her winnings, the clinking of coins filling the air as she stuffed them into a small pouch. Her movements were brisk, her focus now clearly elsewhere.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice low and firm. It wasn’t a request.

You stood, trying to steady yourself as you squeezed past the men flanking you, their eyes flickering between Sevika and you with expressions that were hard to read—curiosity? Envy? You couldn’t quite place it, but it left an uneasy feeling curling in your stomach. You lingered a few steps away, watching as Sevika adjusted her coat and secured her pouch before sauntering toward you.

The heavy thud of her boots against the club’s floor echoed louder than the fading remnants of the music. She stopped in front of you, her broad frame momentarily blocking out the chaotic world behind her. Her robotic hand came to rest against the small of your back, its touch cold but steady. It wasn’t forceful, but it carried an unspoken command that made your pulse quicken.

Without another word, Sevika guided you toward the club’s exit. You moved through the thinning crowd, the haze of smoke and flashing lights fading behind you. The air outside was cooler, but the tension didn’t ease. The muffled thrum of the music from inside the club followed you for a few moments before disappearing into the quiet hum of Zaun’s streets.

Sevika didn’t remove her hand as you walked, the firm weight of it grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Her pace was unhurried, but there was purpose in every step, her presence commanding even in the dim light of the streetlamps and flickering neon signs.

“What?” she asked suddenly, catching your sidelong glance. Her tone was casual, but there was an edge of amusement to it.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, your voice a little too high-pitched to sound convincing.

Her smirk returned, sharp and knowing. “Sure it is.”

The streets of Zaun were alive in their own way, even at night. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting sickly hues of pink, green, and blue across the cracked pavement. The air was heavy with the acrid tang of smog, oil, and rust, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and muffled shouts from lingering partygoers. A faint mist coiled around your feet, pooling in small puddles of grime and reflecting the neon glow in fractured rainbows.

Sevika walked beside you, her boots striking the uneven stone with steady authority. Her hand stayed firm on the small of your back, its heat grounding you in the chaos of Zaun’s restless streets. She didn’t say much, but she didn’t need to; her presence alone filled the space between you, a silent declaration of command and protection.

Then she stopped.

You blinked, surprised by her sudden halt, and looked around. The two of you had come to a narrow, shadowed alleyway. The walls on either side were lined with rusted pipes dripping condensation into the darkness below, where heaps of discarded crates and trash were shrouded in dim light. The faint buzz of a flickering neon sign overhead was the only sound, aside from your own unsteady breathing.

“Here?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence. “Why did we stop—?”

Before you could finish, Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the alley with swift determination.

“Hey! Sevika—what are you—” You stumbled, caught off guard by her abruptness, but she steadied you with a firm grip. Her other hand slid to your waist, her touch deliberate and unyielding.

Her lips curled into a smirk, her face shadowed but unmistakably confident. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, her voice gravelly, her tone brimming with heat and challenge.

The shadows seemed to grow heavier as she maneuvered you further into the alley. You tried to focus on your surroundings—the rust-streaked bricks, the faint gleam of moisture on the ground—but Sevika’s presence dominated everything. She finally stopped, turning to face you fully. The sharp angles of her face were highlighted in the dim light, her scar cutting a path down her cheek, her expression an intoxicating mix of amusement and hunger.

“You’ve been staring all night,” she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur that wrapped around you like smoke. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “Figured I’d give you something worth staring at.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came. The heat of her gaze pinned you in place, and the alley seemed to shrink, leaving nothing but Sevika and the erratic pounding of your heart. “I wasn’t—” you started weakly, your voice faltering.

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone soft but commanding. Her smirk widened as she stepped closer, and you instinctively backed up—until your shoulders hit the rough, damp wall of the alley.

She loomed over you, her body mere inches from yours. “Sevika—” you began again, but she cut you off, her smirk fading into something far more intense.

“Shh,” she whispered, leaning in. Her breath was warm against your ear, her voice dripping with quiet confidence. “I saw the way you looked at me. Felt it, too.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, your chest tightening as she leaned back just enough to study your face. Her eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail. “You don’t have to hide it,” she murmured, her lips curving upward again. “I know what you want.”

Her robotic hand slid to your hip, the cool metal biting against your skin through your clothes, sending a jolt through you. You swallowed hard, your voice caught in your throat.

“So,” she drawled, her head tilting slightly as her gaze flicked to your lips, “why don’t you tell me?”

But before you could even attempt to respond, Sevika’s hand shifted to cup your jaw, tilting your face upward. Her lips crashed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was heated, her movements filled with need and purpose. She kissed you like she meant to claim you, her grip firm and unrelenting as she pressed you further against the wall.

The world around you dissolved into nothing—just the heat of her lips, the faint metallic taste of the oil that clung to the air, and the intoxicating scent of her. The rough texture of the wall behind you contrasted with the warmth of her body against yours, her presence overwhelming every sense you had.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath coming heavy but controlled. “That answer your question?” she asked, her voice low and rasping, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.

You nodded quickly, the motion almost instinctive, and before you could think twice, you surged forward, crashing your lips back against hers. Your arms wound around her neck, pulling her closer with a desperate urgency that surprised even you. Sevika’s low, satisfied chuckle rumbled against your lips, but she didn’t hesitate to meet your intensity, her hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against her.

The lack of space between your bodies was intoxicating. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the firm press of her toned body against yours, and the cold edge of her mechanical arm as it shifted to rest against the small of your back. The contrast of her warmth and the chill of metal only heightened the electric tension that had been building all night.

Her lips moved against yours with a fierce hunger, her dominance unmistakable in the way she kissed you like she was claiming every part of you. You tugged her closer, your fingers tangling in her dark hair as your heart thundered in your chest. The wall at your back grounded you, but Sevika’s overwhelming presence made you feel like the world was spinning.

When she pulled back, her breath was warm against your skin as she studied you, her eyes dark and filled with something primal. “Didn’t know you had that in you,” she teased, her voice husky, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk.

You felt your cheeks flush, but there was no time to dwell on your embarrassment as she leaned back in, her lips trailing down the line of your jaw and toward your neck. The sensation sent shivers racing down your spine, and a soft gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Her breath ghosted over your skin, and she chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. “You’re making this too easy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement and heat.

Your grip on her tightened as she pressed her lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, her teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Sevika…” you whispered, her name slipping past your lips almost involuntarily.

“Hm?” she hummed against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. Her robotic hand slid upward, resting just below your ribcage, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat flooding your senses. “Tell me what you want,” she murmured, her tone both a command and an invitation.

The sounds of Zaun felt miles away now—the flickering lights, the distant voices, the hum of machinery—all drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and Sevika’s low, intoxicating voice. Every fiber of your being was focused on her, on the way her body pressed against yours, on the tension hanging between you both like a wire stretched to its limit.

Your lips parted, your voice shaky but determined. “You.”

Her smirk returned, sharper and more dangerous this time, and her hand tightened on your waist as she leaned back just enough to meet your eyes. “Good,” she said simply, her voice rough and thick with satisfaction, before pulling you back into another searing kiss.

Sevika’s lips left yours, trailing a heated path back to your jawline, her touch deliberate and electrifying. The scrape of her teeth against your skin sent shivers racing down your spine, and when she reached your neck, she didn’t hesitate. She pressed her lips to the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, her kisses slow and intentional.

Then came the bite.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as her teeth sank gently into your skin, the pressure sending a jolt of sensation through your entire body. It wasn’t enough to hurt—just enough to mark. Your hands clutched at her broad shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath her coat. The cold wall against your back and the heat of her body against yours blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the way her lips and teeth worked against your neck.

She alternated between soft, open-mouthed kisses and playful nips, her breath warm against your flushed skin. Each bite left a small sting that quickly melted into a dull, throbbing heat, and you could already feel the marks blooming—tiny imprints of her claim. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, like every nerve in your body had come alive.

"Sevika," you breathed, her name slipping from your lips in a voice you barely recognized.

She pulled back just enough to smirk against your skin, her tongue flicking over the spot she’d just bitten. “What?” she teased, her voice low and rough, sending another shiver through you. “Can’t handle it?”

You shook your head quickly, though your body betrayed you by arching into her, silently begging for more. “It’s—” You struggled for words, your mind hazy with sensation. “It feels—”

“Good?” she finished for you, her tone smug. Her robotic hand moved up your back, its cool touch grounding you even as her lips began their assault again, this time on the other side of your neck. She bit down a little harder, drawing a sharp gasp from you that she clearly relished.

“Gods, Sevika…” you whispered, your voice shaky, your fingers tightening in her hair. Each bite, each kiss, each scrape of her teeth sent waves of heat rolling through you. The sensation was both overwhelming and addictive—every small mark she left on your skin felt like a brand, a reminder of just how thoroughly she was claiming you in that moment.

When she finally pulled back to look at you, her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were dark with satisfaction. Her gaze flicked to the marks on your neck, a small, self-satisfied smirk curling at the edges of her mouth. “You wear those well,” she murmured, her voice thick with pride and possession.

You could barely catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you stared at her, dazed. Your skin was still buzzing from the attention she’d given it, each mark tingling as if her lips had never left.

“You’re not gonna forget this anytime soon,” she added, her smirk widening. Her thumb brushed against one of the fresh marks on your neck, sending another wave of heat through you. “And neither is anyone else.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, the sheer intensity of the moment threatening to pull you under. The heat Sevika had stirred spread like wildfire through your body, landing low in your core, where it pooled and throbbed with a maddening ache. You tried to steady yourself, gripping her shoulders tighter, but every brush of her lips, every flick of her tongue, every small bite on your neck only made the sensation worse—or better. You weren’t sure anymore.

The marks she left felt like they burned, tiny brands on your skin that sent jolts of heat racing straight through you. Each kiss seemed to pull you deeper, unraveling your composure thread by thread. Your breath came in short gasps, your chest rising and falling against hers as you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Sevika…” you whispered, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your voice wavered, thick with need and a vulnerability that made her smirk widen.

Her hand moved lower, her fingers splaying possessively over your waist as she pressed her body closer, trapping you against the cold, damp wall. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice thick with amusement and heat. The gravelly edge of it sent another wave of warmth coursing through you. “You’re shaking.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but they stuck in your throat, overwhelmed by the haze of desire clouding your thoughts. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath hot and teasing.

“Can’t handle me?” she taunted, her voice dropping to a low purr that sent shivers straight down your spine.

The way her lips moved, the deep, sultry tone of her voice, and the weight of her presence made your knees feel weak, like the ground beneath you might give way at any second. You clung to her harder, your body instinctively pressing closer as if proximity alone could quell the inferno she’d ignited within you.

“I can handle you,” you managed to say, though your voice came out shaky and uneven.

Her laugh was deep and husky, vibrating against your skin as she pressed her lips to your jaw, slowly working her way back down to the sensitive curve of your neck. “That right?” she murmured, her tone challenging and utterly confident.

The pressure of her body against yours, the heat of her lips, and the tingling sting of the marks she’d left were too much. Your body betrayed you, your legs trembling again as the fire in your core grew almost unbearable. Sevika noticed, of course, her smirk turning almost predatory.

“Guess I’ll have to see just how much you can take,” she said, her robotic hand sliding lower to grip your hip with a firmness that made your breath hitch. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of promise, before her lips descended on yours again, consuming you in a kiss that left no room for thought—only feeling.

Her tongue brushed against yours, and a quiet moan escaped you before you could stop it. The sound seemed to fuel her, and she pressed you harder against the wall, her hips grinding against yours with deliberate intention. The friction was almost too much, the heat coiling low in your stomach and spreading through you like wildfire. You could feel her smile against your lips, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as her body pinned you against the wall.

There was no escaping her now, not that you wanted to. Every movement of her lips against yours, every bite of her teeth, every stroke of her tongue drew you deeper. Your heart raced, your blood rushing in your ears as she consumed you. It was almost too much to process—the way her body held you captive, the way her kisses left you breathless, and the way her mechanical arm anchored you against the wall as her other hand slid up the inside of your thigh.

Sevika paused just long enough to let her eyes flick over you. You looked debauched already, your lips parted, your eyes heavy-lidded, your clothes disheveled. The sight made her smirk deepen, a rush of pride filling her chest. But she wasn't done.

She leaned in again, her lips moving to the shell of your ear. Her voice was low and gravelly, dripping with heat and confidence. "You're gonna scream my name."

Her fingers slid beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear, and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. "Sevika..." you whispered, your voice shaky and thin, a tremor running through you.

"That's it," she murmured, her tongue darting out to tease the spot just below your ear, the sensation drawing a small whine from you. Her fingers toyed with the fabric, tugging and rubbing in a way that had you panting. "You gonna come for me?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

Your body was on fire, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. She didn't ease up, her fingers tracing patterns against the soaked fabric, the pressure just enough to keep the flames from being doused. You bucked against her, desperate for more, and she laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second.

"Patience," she said, her tone thick with satisfaction. Her lips brushed against the marks on your neck, the pressure making them tingle, the sensation sending shivers straight down your spine. "Or you'll regret it."

Your hands gripped her shoulders, fingers digging into her shirt, but she didn't stop. Her touch was deliberate, controlled, and the heat building within you threatened to boil over. "Sevika, please..." you begged, unable to control the words tumbling from your lips.

"Please what?" she murmured, her voice a low growl. She knew exactly what you wanted, but she was enjoying the desperation too much to relent.

"I need you." Your voice was hoarse, strained with need, and the way her gaze locked onto yours made you feel like prey caught in the hunter's trap.

"That so?" she drawled, her lips quirking upward. "You do look pretty good like this."

Her fingers pushed the damp fabric aside, finally brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves, and you gasped sharply, your hips bucking against her hand. She chuckled, the low sound rumbling against your neck as she trailed her lips along your jaw.

"So desperate," she teased, her breath ghosting over your skin. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Before you could respond, her fingers found the wet heat of your folds, stroking and teasing until you were a whimpering mess. Your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, your head thrown back against the wall. She didn't ease up, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves while her fingers worked their magic.

The alleyway melted away, the chaos of Zaun dissolving into nothingness. There was only Sevika, her body pressed flush against yours, her lips and fingers driving you toward the edge. Your heart pounded, your breathing ragged, your body burning with need.

Then she slid a finger inside you, the sudden pressure drawing a choked moan from your throat. "Sevika!" you gasped, her name spilling from your lips like a plea.

"Fuck," she groaned, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You feel so good."

You arched into her, desperate for more, and her lips crashed against yours again, capturing your moans and swallowing your pleas. Her hand moved faster, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your release came barreling down on you with dizzying intensity.

You broke the kiss, a string of curses falling from your lips as your orgasm tore through you. The tension coiling in your core snapped, the flames roaring into an inferno, and everything went white. Her fingers worked relentlessly, drawing out the sensation until you were spent.

She pulled back, her lips curved into a smirk, her gaze dark and hungry. Her fingers slid from between your legs, and she brought them to her lips, the taste of you evident in her expression. "Told you you'd scream my name," she said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

The haze of pleasure faded, and you realized your entire body was trembling, the aftershocks rippling through you like waves. You took a few unsteady breaths, trying to regain some composure, but it was nearly impossible with her standing so close.

Sevika studied you, her eyes roaming over you in a way that made the heat pooling between your legs surge back. "Not bad," she mused, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "But we're not done yet."

Her robotic hand came up to tilt your chin, her fingers pressing against the fresh marks on your neck, drawing a gasp from you.

"Now, how about I give you something else worth screaming about?"

#arcane #arcane smut #arcane x reader #sevika #sevika smut #sevika x reader

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