#it's a big one but only if you look close enough

[loves0phelia]

hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.

I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.

thanks! I love your account btw!

In The Sea

Summery: the anon

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: grammar mistakes

A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx

You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.

You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.

“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.

“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.

“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.

“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.

“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.

“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.

“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 

“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.

“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.

“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.

“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.

You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.

“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 

Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.

“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.

“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,

“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,

“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.

Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.

“holy shit”

“Jesus JJ what's your problem”

“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.

JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.

After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.

You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.

“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.

“great” he sighed.

“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 

“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,

“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”

“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 

“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.

For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.

Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.

John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.

“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.

You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.

Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.

You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.

Has you were about to close the door you hear him.

“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 

You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.

“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.

The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.

“That's not good,” John B says.

“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.

“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.

“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 

The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.

Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.

“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.

“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.

“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.

“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.

“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.

“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.

“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.

The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  

You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.

“Cut me loose” he begs.

Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.

“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.

“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.

You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,

“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 

“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.

You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.

This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.

The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.

Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.

“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother

“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.

“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.

A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.

With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.

“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.

You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.

“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.

“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.

The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.

“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.

“You jumped after me,” you whispered.

“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.

The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 

Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.

When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.

“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Send request xxx

[sematarygirls]

                                                  part two here .ᐟ

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe x reader / angst, injury, blood, confusion

You reached out desperately, grabbing for something, anything as you struggled to open your eyes, a sliver of light peeking out from a small gap where your eyelids hadn't quite yet touched your waterline. Your fingers wrapped around an arm, nails digging into soft, warm flesh, probably hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn't really tell, nor did you care enough to worry about it.

You felt like you were underwater, your ears ringing violently and drowning out the muffled sounds of someone calling your name. The only warmth you could feel was bleeding through a gaping wound in your abdomen, making your clothes cling to your skin with a sticky rush of crimson. You vaguely registered the smell of pennies in the air.

"Hey, hey," a voice called frantically, cutting through the fog that had descended over your mind, reality and imagination blurring into one big jumble of pictures. Your head lolled to the side as a palm lightly tapped your cheek. It was warm, so warm. "Look at me, baby, please look at me!"

Were you dead? In a coma? Why couldn't you move?

You knew that voice, but you didn't know how. Come on, open your eyes! You willed yourself. You had to know who was calling you. You had to see the face of the man that was keeping you from slipping into a blissful sleep. Maybe you had to even slap this disembodied voice for so rudely interrupting the dream you were having about finding gold with your best friends.

"That's it, baby. There you go," the voice coaxed you, a mix of relief and panic lacing their tone as your eyes started to flutter open.

You winced at the light. You were looking directly up at the sky, a halo of sun surrounding the man hovering above you. Was he... an angel?

He leaned in closer, his head blocking out the brightness and allowing you to make out his features. A sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, a mess of brown hair falling down around his face. He wasn't an angel. You knew him. He was in your dream, the treasure hunting dream.

Your brows furrowed as you stared up at him, trying to piece together what was going on. That's when a jolt of pain hit you, making you cry out. The man was pressing down on the spot that was leaking warmth from your body, and it really fucking hurt.

Hurt. It hurt. Pain. Warmth. Cold. Sensation. Feeling.

This wasn't a dream, was it? But if this wasn't a dream, then everything you thought was a dream wasn't a dream but real life.

Shot. You remembered being shot in this supposed not-dream. Who shot you?

"You're okay, okay? You're okay." His eyes were wide and glistening with tears, you noted as you slowly started to gain awareness. Focus. You had to focus. You couldn't go out again, that much you knew. Your head was whirling, and you couldn't pinpoint why sleep was bad, but it was. It was very bad.

His hand was shaking as he pressed down on your wound, his other hand reaching out to cup your face. This man had a name. A name that you knew, didn't you? Yes, yes, you definitely knew it, but what was it? Who was he? Was he the one that shot you?

"Stay with me, baby, please, stay with me. Oh god, you're so pale. Say something, baby. Anything, please, just- just say something for me." He was rambling, clearly panicking. If he was the one that shot you, he needed a lesson in homicide because he was not doing a good job.

Baby? He kept calling you baby. Was that... your name? No, that didn't sound right. God, what was going on?

Your lips parted, a choked gasp falling from them as you tried to say something, your brain seeming to short circuit on the spot. "Not a dream?" You managed to ask, wincing at the pain. At least you were feeling pain. You were like 99% sure pain was good, but you weren't a doctor... well, you didn't think you were a doctor anyway.

"No, baby, it's not a dream," he said immediately, his fingers curling against your face. He leaned in close, pressing your foreheads together. "Rafe, okay? I'm Rafe. Remember me? Remember my name?"

"Rafe," you echoed, brows pinched in confusion. That was a weird name, but you knew it. You knew a Rafe. This was Rafe? You guessed he looked Rafe enough to be named Rafe.

"God, where is the ambulance?" A female voice exclaimed loudly, her panic was much louder, less subtle than the calm freaking out that Rafe was practicing.

Why was everyone freaking out again? Shot. Shot. You'd been shot, right. Remember that. Remember you'd been shot. But, who the fuck shot you!

You realized that there were voices, multiple voices all in varying degrees of panic, all yelling and clearly very distressed. Were they all worried about you? You didn't know. You couldn't pinpoint what they were saying. It was hard for you to focus on so many things at once right now. You had to pick one thing to keep your mind focused.

The dream. The dream that wasn't a dream? The dream that was real and happening right now? Your treasure hunting friends. They were called something starting with a p. Parrots? That seemed piratey enough to be right, you guessed.

"I'm so tired," the words slipped from your mouth without thinking. You almost didn't register that it was your own voice. Tired, yes. Yes, you were very tired. You were sleeping before this, right? So, maybe sleeping would fix it. That sounded scientific, sort of.

"No, no sleeping, baby. Stay awake, okay?" Rafe was shaking you now, his voice hard, demanding. He was so close, his face right above yours. His hands on you, firm, strong. He was handsome, very handsome. "Look at me."

You looked up at him weakly, your eyes scanning his striking features. You'd touched them before, traced them, mapped his face and committed it to memory, body and mind. You remembered him better now, the fog lifting slightly. He called you baby. That's what boyfriends called their girlfriends. He was your boyfriend?

You had a boyfriend? Damn, go dream, (that's not a dream?) you!

"Good, good, look at me," Rafe encouraged, his eyes never leaving yours, a small smile on his face despite the fear inside him. "You're doing so well, baby. Stay with me, just a little longer. The ambulance is almost here." He was speaking slowly, carefully.

"Attempted murder is not sexy, dream Rafe," you murmured. You decided in that moment to keep calling the situation a dream because you still weren't entirely convinced that it wasn't. Treasure? Getting shot? An unbelievably sexy boyfriend? It all seemed very dreamlike. Besides, the alternative was a mouthful, and you were pretty sure you were gonna pass out soon, so no more words for you.

"What?" Rafe leaned in closer, tilting his head slightly, a crease forming between his brows. "Baby, what did you just say?" He asked softly, his eyes never leaving yours, but your attention had been pulled from him by the sound of sirens blaring in the distance.

You were so tired, and as entertaining as it was to stare at the greek god in front of you—possibly an angel, possibly the man who shot you, the verdict was still out—was, you didn't know how much longer you could keep your eyes open, even as the sirens approached and seemed to infiltrate your brain and make your head shake.

"No, no, no, no, no, look at me, baby, look at me," Rafe was back to shaking you, his face a mask of panic. "Why the fuck aren't they here yet!" He yelled at the parrot people around you, seething with rage as if it was their fault that you had been shot, and the ambulance was taking its sweet time getting to you.

"Shh, it's okayyyy," you reassured him, your words slurring and your hand finally falling away from his arm as your strength fled you. "It's just a dream." You would fall asleep, and then, wake up and everything would be okay.

"No, no, this is not okay, baby. This is very fucking far from okay." Rafe's voice was thick with emotion, his eyes wide and desperate. He was losing you, he could feel it. "Please, please, stay with me. Don't you dare fucking leave me."

"I can't feel anything," you said quietly. This was a dream, right? You were so confused, so tired, so... sad? Were you going to die? You can't die in dreams. You'll just wake up. You will wake up, right?

"You can't leave me," Rafe's voice broke, tears welling up in his eyes. "You're not allowed to leave me. I love you. You hear me? I love you, and you can't just... you can't..." He trailed off, his face a picture of devastation. He had lost a lot in his life—his mother, his father's love, his sister's trust. He turned to drugs and alcohol to cope, which often only sent him farther off the deep end. He was getting clean. He was trying to be better, but he knew he couldn't survive losing you.

For the first time since you could remember (which probably wasn't a feat because time was all jumbled up, and you could barely remember five minutes ago) you were scared. You didn't think this was a dream anymore, which meant that it was real. It really was the dream that wasn't really a dream, and that meant if you died, you were really dead—like, forever dead.

"That's right, baby, stay with me. Look at me. You're not dreaming. This is real. You're really hurt, and I need you to stay with me, okay? Just a little longer. You're so strong, the strongest person I know. You can do this," he urged you, and even though your brain fog made it feel like you'd just met him today, you felt the desire to make him proud, to live to see him again. "Look, the paramedics are here, okay? They're right here. You're gonna be fine. You're not gonna die. You can't. I won't let you."

Die. Death. Not dream death. Real death. Real. Real. Not a dream. You've been shot. Someone shot you. Rafe is here. The parrots—no, no, that's not right—the pogues, the pogues are here. The paramedics are here. But, you're not. You're not gonna die. You're not gonna die a dream death, and you're not gonna die a real death; you're going to live. You have to. You have to live.

There's a reason. You can't remember it, but there's a reason that you have to pull through this.

"I-I love you. I think," you said shakily. It felt right, to say that you loved him. You were pretty sure you did, but then again, you were pretty sure all this was a dream not too long ago. Your thoughts were kind of everywhere and nowhere all at once, but something about him felt right.

"You do love me. And I love you. And that's why you're gonna live. You hear me? You're gonna live because you love me, and I love you. You're my girl, alright? So, you're gonna fight. You're gonna fight for me," he coached you, hyping you up like you were about to go head to head with death in the ring. You think you would've laughed if not for the situation at hand.

He moved to the side of you, holding your hand as the paramedics rushed over, stabilizing you and moving you onto the stretcher. They were spouting out numbers and technical terms that weren't helping your spinning brain. It was like the world was trying to confuse you at this point!

"Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me," Rafe chanted, squeezing your hand as they rushed you to the ambulance. He climbed in with you, not letting go of your hand as they sped off. "You're not gonna die, baby. You're not gonna leave me."

"Shot," you breathed out, trying to get some clarity. "I was shot." One questioning had been bouncing around your brain this entire time: who had shot you? You couldn't remember exactly, but you knew who shot you. You knew whoever it was somehow, but everything was a blur.

"Yes, but it's gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine. It's just one gunshot wound. You're not hit anywhere vital," he lied. You were hit in the abdomen. It was a miracle you were still conscious at all, let alone talking.

"No, no, you're not listening," you urged him, your words slurring together as your eyelids fluttered, struggling to keep them open. "I know who shot me. I-I know who..."

"Shh, don't try to talk. Save your strength. We'll figure it out later," he stopped you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, anger, desperation. He knew something he wasn't telling you.

"Not you, no, no, not you," you mumbled to yourself. It wasn't him. You were certain about that. "But..." Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Think. Think. Who shot you? You knew them. You knew their name. You knew their face. God, it was right there.

A man, it was a man. You knew it was a man, but what man? You couldn't die without knowing. You had to think.

"Listen to me, look at me," he said firmly, his hands gently squeezing your cheeks. "No more talking about who shot you, alright? Just focus on staying awake, stay with me. I'm begging you, just stay awake." He was so frantic. So desperate. Why? Even the paramedics, who were focused on saving your life, could tell that something was off with him.

The ambulance suddenly halted, the paramedics rushing to move you, but you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. The last thing you saw was the guilt in Rafe's eyes and a brief flash of the man who shot you before everything went black.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[maskedbyghost]

Out of 141 who would try to convince reader to marry them for benefits? (The benefit of being able to call reader their spouse but reader doesn’t need to know that 😌)

love this question! honestly, i think all of them would do something like this, but here is something with my hubby simon in mind!

you squint at simon, confused. "so... you’re suggesting we get married. for... benefits?”

“yeah.” simon’s reply is casual, his face blank as always. “practical reasons. you get some perks, i get some perks. no big deal.”

you can’t help but laugh. “just like that?”

“just like that,” he repeats, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “saves us both the hassle.”

“right… for the benefits.” you’re not sure if you’re buying it, but he seems serious, and hey, who are you to question one of simon’s half-baked ideas?

the next few weeks are surprisingly easy. simon handles most of the paperwork, and soon enough, you’re both technically married—on paper, anyway. just for the benefits, you remind yourself.

but then... strange things start happening.

simon begins doing things he never used to. he starts showing up with coffee, your favorite kind, without you even asking. he picks up groceries for you, just because he thought you might be running low.

“you’re... kind of acting like a husband,” you joke one night, feeling a strange warmth creep into your chest.

he grunts, brushing off your comment. “just looking out for you. comes with the... agreement.”

and every time you bring it up, he has some new excuse, some “benefit” you never knew you’d signed up for.

you start catching him watching you a little longer than usual, his gaze soft, almost... affectionate. but whenever you ask, he waves it off, like it’s nothing.

finally, one night, you can’t hold back. “simon, this marriage...what’s in it for you, really? don’t tell me it’s just benefits. no one does all this just for some perks.”

he’s quiet for a moment, his face unreadable. then, his shoulders tense, and he sighs, almost... defeated. “maybe i just wanted a reason to stay close. to call you mine. even if it was... only on paper.”

your heart skips a beat. all the little gestures, the quiet moments, everything starts making sense. “so... this wasn’t just for the benefits?”

“not really, no.” he looks at you, finally letting his guard drop, his eyes soft in a way they never are. “i wanted you to be mine. officially.”

it’s not a grand confession, not really. but it’s simon’s way, and in that moment, you realize it’s everything.

-----------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 19)

masterlist

-

A blood-orange sun hangs low in the sky.

You might think it ominous on any other day, but not this one. What more adversity could stand in your way? 

Instead of sharing a saddle with John, you ride the same horse that Graves rode out of town. Days spent on horseback have finally caught up to you, pain radiating up and down your legs, a soreness embedded deep in your inner thighs, the skin positively chafed from the constant friction. At least you no longer have the handcuffs digging painfully into your wrists, the metal cuffs long since unlocked using the key in Graves’ pocket and discarded, now lost some acres back for the coyotes and the hares to prod at and sniff. 

You drift in and out of conscious awareness, coming back into your right mind every mile or so, losing track of time along the way. Sometimes you blink and trees disappear out of sight, already ten miles back. Scouring the landscape for something familiar only to come up empty. 

Recent events lour over your conscience. It’s difficult not to let it get to you. So much has happened in such quick succession that part of you still thinks you’re dreaming in the abandoned shack with Graves sleeping just a few feet away. 

A distinct sound scrapes against the inner recesses of your mind and eardrum. If you were to look behind you, you’d find the source of it wrapped in a shroud and dragged behind John’s horse. Drying blood stains the fabric. The head, obscured under the fabric, jostles from side to side as it passes over rocks and undergrowth. 

It’s beyond you now though, the future shuttling forward at an unfathomable speed and taking you with it, willing or not. The world hurrying on to repeat its past mistakes. 

So you don’t look behind you. 

“Won’t be much longer,” your husband murmurs from beside you, speaking just loud enough for you to hear him over the influx of thoughts in your head, which rapidly empty out at the sound of his voice. 

“We can stop for a break after?” you ask, turning your head enough for your eyes to land on the hard, bristled line of his jaw. He nods. 

“Just gotta get this part out of the way.”

He says it so casually, like a bit of unpleasantness that has to be dealt with; no way around it. Unfortunately, a body isn’t something that can be just swept under the rug. No matter how much your muscles beg for a moment’s reprieve, you won’t get it until all the loose ends are tied up. 

“How do you know the land around here so well?” you ask as John leads the two of you deeper into the plains.

“The boys and I have been out here before. Grew up in this county anyway; been wanderin’ these parts since I was born.”

You can’t imagine John as a young boy, uncertain of his place in the world. He seems like someone who emerged from the womb ready-made, already able to skin a deer and build a bushcraft shelter by hand. But he must have been young at one point. 

Finally, he comes upon a suitable place to bury the body. 

Deep in the wilderness, he digs a shallow grave with the short shovel strapped to his horse, sweating up a storm before the hole is big enough to bury the body. You dismount your horse and wander off while John handles the burial. 

This is the part where you have to turn away and pretend it isn’t happening. You stave off the urge to plug your ears and close your eyes. Dogear any page in your life except this one. This is the only memory that you want to fade into obscurity, pretend that it never happened, that this was some bad dream that you only half-remember twenty years from now. 

You glance back only once to find John breathing heavily at the edge of the hole, having just hauled himself out. Sweat slicks his brow and drips down the side of his face near his temple, a dark flush spreading over his cheeks from exertion. Even his shirt is damp with sweat under the pits and around the collar. 

You force yourself to look away. Now is not the time for your libido to trouble you. 

Graves’ body lands with a dull thump when John rolls it into the makeshift grave. You bite your lip and let your eyelids slide shut. Then he starts the process of covering the body, shoveling the dirt back into the hole. It takes a while. An offer to help hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite make yourself say the words. 

A half hour later, it no longer matters, the hole covered until the only thing demarcating the grave is the layer of upturned soil, slightly darker than the dirt in the surrounding area.

“That’s it,” John announces, making his way back to you with the shovel slung over his shoulder. You can smell the ripe scent of sweat wafting off him even from a foot away. “Let’s head out; we’ll wanna make camp before it gets dark.”

You don’t answer. Not verbally anyway. The guilt almost makes it hard to breathe. In all your stupidity and poor decision-making, you’ve inadvertently made John an accomplice in your crimes; forced him, in fact, to commit one as heinous as the one that had started this whole debacle. 

You travel the next mile in relative silence, scouring the landscape for a neat patch of land to set up camp. The sun plummets towards the ground at a faster and faster pace until it’s tugged below the horizon, vanishing with a green flash. Then it’s too dangerous to keep going, the way back far too dark to keep traveling down. 

John builds a small fire after tying up the horses for the night. The temperature drops exponentially as the sky darkens, the cold sinking low to the ground. You help with gathering the kindling, mostly twigs and clumps of dry grass, then take the packs off both horses to use as makeshift seats by the fire, unrolling the sleeping bags as well. 

It comes as a relief to finally sit down after the fire is struck. Rest is a double edged sword though; the longer you sit with Graves’ old pack propping you up, the more the pain has time to sink its claws in deep. 

In the hours since he shot Graves, neither of you have spoken more than a few words to each other. You certainly haven’t brought it up. The memory of Graves revealing the truth of what you’d done back east to John looms over you. It’s inevitable that you’ll talk about it eventually though. It’s heavy in the atmosphere, almost oppressive; the weight of everything said and unsaid. You can’t take back what Graves revealed to John. At some point you’ll have to face it. 

At what point will you have to beg for forgiveness? It sits on the tip of your tongue. 

The small fire crackles in front of you. Red tongues of flames lick at the darkness, the light extending out in a circle around the two of you. You’re grateful for the warmth though, particularly after spending the previous night in the cold.  

“Nothing to eat, m’afraid,” he says apologetically, brow creasing. “I didn’t exactly pack before coming after you.”

You shake your head. “That’s fine. I’m not hungry anyway.”

In a few more hours, you might work up an appetite again, but for now, you couldn’t be further from it. All you want to do is lie down on your bed back home and sleep through to the next day. 

“Yeah,” John sighs. “Me neither.”

He picks up your hand and holds it in his for a time. It’s strange how such a small gesture has become such an immense comfort for you. You wish you could thread your fingers through his and bring his hand up to your lips to kiss all over, but you’re too tired for a gesture of that magnitude. 

When he lets go of your hand, it’s only to transfer it to your face. His thumb runs over your split lip, pulling away when you wince. “Looks like it’s healing on its own.”

“That’s good,” you mumble. “…It hurt a lot more yesterday.”

John’s nostrils flare. The fire reflects off his eyes in such a way that, for a moment, it almost looks like it’s coming from within him. “I’d kill him again if I could.”

Your stomach clenches at the ferocity behind his words. 

“You—you shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” you croak. “Not when he was—” right, you don’t say. Right to haul you out of town by your hair and drag you back to the scene of the crime, back to pay for what you’d done. 

“Now I ain’t gonna hear you go spoutin’ that horseshit,” he growls, clasping you by the back of your neck and tugging you to his side. It’s so sudden that your butt skids across the ground, raking up a small mound of dirt with the weight of your body.

You look away, unable to meet his eyes even as he pulls you forward until you’re nearly nose to nose. “It’s not—”

“Yes, it is, darlin’. That shit weren’t none of your fault. You ain’t done a thing wrong by keeping yourself safe.” 

It’s almost hard to hear. It’s taken you months to scrub the dirt from your soul, which until recently was raw to the touch and pained you to even think back on. And the hopelessness. And the longing, the irreversibility of it; irreversible in the way that you couldn’t turn your pain inside out. You could never go back to the way things were because the only way out was to keep on trudging forward. 

Like rain in a drought, you’ve been missing someone’s mercy. You’ve been waiting for someone to come and forgive you for your sins; someone to absolve you of them. 

You lean forward, burying your face in his neck. Not making much of a sound except for a harsh exhale, your throat quavering with something unsaid. 

Then you grip him by the back of his shirt and pull him to the ground with you. 

Out in the open like this, John doesn’t dare remove your clothes, but he does reach beneath your dress to pull off your underclothes. He’s silent through it all, eyes fixed on yours. Never wavering or dropping your gaze. It’s intoxicating to be stared at with such a fierce intensity. Vaguely overwhelming, the sensation creeping up your chest and lodging in your throat. 

The light of the fire he built for the two of you flickers across his skin, illuminating his face in shades of orange and gold. 

He holds your gaze when he rucks the skirt of your dress up and crawls down the length of your body until his mouth is level with your center, slick already dripping from your sex. Your breathing goes haggard, anticipating his mouth before it’s suddenly there between your thighs, planting a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before dragging his lips over your sensitive skin until they brush your clit. Your mouth opens to a soundless gasp. Electrical impulses travel up your spine, your arching back following their trajectory. 

He pulls back to stare at your dripping hole. “Missed me, my love?” 

You’d answer if you could form words, but then you realize who he’s talking to and your mind goes blank. 

When he runs his tongue up the seam of your pussy, you jolt, legs slung over his shoulders kicking at the air. He eats you out with gusto, with reverence, sighing into your pussy that it’s been too long, that he’d worried himself nearly half to death over you. 

Rough hands hold you by your waist and pull you down onto his face. Long, crude licks of his tongue, rubbing the flat of it over your clit until you’re a roiling, twisting hotbed of pent up arousal. 

The urge to suppress your noises is almost overwhelming. When you twist your head from side to side, there’s nothing but miles of land; trees and shrubbery and a deep, impenetrable darkness. Not another person around for miles. It makes you shiver when you stare out into it. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—” you gasp, chest getting tighter and tighter until you expect it to burst but it doesn’t. It stays all pent up, all itchy and scratchy and you can feel the sweat slicking the small of your back and the blood furiously rushing to your cheeks, heating you up from the inside out. Sweat-laden and flustered. 

Your toes curl in your boots, throat tightening up the closer it gets. All it takes to push you over the edge is John cupping his hands under your butt to tilt your hips up, licking you from hole to hole. The impertinence and thrill sends a rush through your body, the coil in your belly twisting and releasing, core pulsing around nothing. Your body gives a violent jolt when he gives your clit one last wet, suckling kiss.

“Are you comfortable like this, darlin’, or should I wait until we’re home?” John asks when he positions himself over you again, beard still wet with your desire and a big hand cupping the front of his trousers. You stare down at the hair dusting his knuckles and the bulge straining against his pants. 

The shadows make it seem even larger than usual. Your throat goes dry the longer you stare down at where he fists his length through his trousers.

“Darlin’?” he repeats, drawing your attention back up to his face.

“Oh?” you ask, cheeks heating. “I’m, um…I’m quite comfortable.”

It seems absurd to have such a conversation when your husband’s hand is reaching into his trousers to pull out his cock and fuck you with it, but the nervous tickle in your belly is far from unpleasant. 

He’s so careful with you, cognizant that your muscles are already sore and aching from days of being on the road and the abuse Graves put you through. Gentle hands maneuver your legs around his hips and move your hair from your face. Again your belly flips. 

Your grunt is involuntary when he first pushes in, walls stretching around the head of his cock. It hasn’t been long enough for the blunt intrusion to be painful, but it’s overwhelming all the same. You wince and grimace through it all. 

“Easy does it. You’re alright,” John shushes when you whimper, rough hand cupping your cheek. It sends a thrill down your spine, but doesn’t lessen the intensity. 

He stays like that for a time, hovering over you and stroking a thumb over your cheekbone until you relax around his girth, gradually finding your breath again. In and out; one after the other. When he pulls his hand away, it’s to plant his forearms on the ground beside your head and grind his hips forward, taking your breath away. 

“Oh Lord,” you wheeze, then brace your hands around his neck. 

“You’re doing great, darlin’. Just hold on; I’ve got ya.”

It’s nothing like the times before; your arms link around his neck and your breath goes shallow, hitching with every measured thrust. It’s too much and not enough. You feel windswept and battered, bruises smarting now that you’ve had time to feel them, but still you need more from him. 

He works himself into the wet flex of your pussy with slow, heavy thrusts. Taking his time. Not rushing it just yet because though the threat of you being taken from him still looms over his head, he’s sated his bloodlust. His reassurance now comes in the form of your legs spread to receive him and the fat head of his cock fitting snugly in you. 

The heels of your boots press firm against the flesh above his buttocks. Taking him this way with your clothes still on feels debaucherous, filthier than usual; like you were so desperate to have your husband inside you, that you couldn’t even be bothered to remove your garments. 

He must feel the way that thought heats you up because he rasps, “Need a lil somethin’, love?” 

Before you can even answer, he’s reached a hand down and tucked it between your thighs to strum the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. 

“John—”

Your fingernails must dig into the back of his neck because he grunts. Serves him right, you think, digging your nails in all the harder when grinds a knuckle against your clit and you briefly see stars. 

You’re splintering down to the root, coming apart in his hands like clay; when he says your name, the darkness fades and for a moment, you’re in the light, a shaft of it haloing your face. Chasing it no matter how fast it runs. A hare in a snare, a shadow captured in the palm of your hand. 

It comes fluttering down from somewhere beyond sight. Gasped out in another voice, a truer voice. From the depths of you, true as stone and air. 

“I love you.”

Give it time and it’ll come naturally. Now, it comes as a gut punch. Even John stills over you when he hears the words, and you can feel the shudder that runs through him under your fingertips. There’s no time to sit and talk about it though, not with the frenzy that comes over him, blue eyes glazed over by a manic glint. 

He braces one hand on the top of your head and surges forward, so rough with you that your teeth clack together, eyes rolling back in your head. 

“Say it again,” John growls, leaning down until his mouth is right next to your ear. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Then it hits you. A wall of heat. Your belly rolling and cheeks burning, walls squeezing around John’s cock, tighter with every thrust. You yelp when he lifts himself off you to yank the skirt of your dress up higher and presses his hands to your inner thighs, spreading your legs wider for him. Bullies his cock into your channel even as you try to squeeze him out, pounding into you until the lurid torrent of words spilling out of his mouth go slurred and his release floods into you, his hips slapping against yours until he’s emptied the last of his spend into your womb. 

It’s a while before either of you can move after that. Your energy melts into the ground like rainwater, purifying the earth. Maybe life is already germinating beneath you, grass seedlings about to burst from the dirt, flower buds curled up in tight coils until they’re ready to bloom. 

Your hands shake when you lift one up to wipe the sweat from your face. 

When he finally pulls out of you, the feeling of his come leaking down your inner thighs makes you fussy. You lift your thighs just enough to let him pull your drawers back up before lying back down, no energy left in you to do more than that. You only scrunch your nose a little at the feeling of your combined juices already wetting the gusset.

Time seems to come apart and then piece back together. You roll over onto your side and nestle up against John’s chest, staring up at him wordlessly. His eyes stay shut for some time until he feels your stare on him and they peel open, the color of his irises barely discernible in the flickering light. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” he asks in a tone so devoid of accusation or condemnation that you’re almost thrown by it. He says it like it’s just another day, like something horrible and monumental didn’t just happen. 

It takes you a while to find the words. Even when you do, they come out jumbled and disjointed. “How long have you…—when did you find out?”

“‘Bout what happened back East?” he clarifies, blunt as usual. 

The question makes you swallow impulsively, anxiety secreting from you again. “Yes.”

John looks up into the dark sky, quiet for a spell. “Not until recently. The arrest warrant drifted across my desk probably around the time Graves first stopped by. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that—you showing up in a tizzy around the same time as the warrant was issued. General description matched as well.”

You feel a bit foolish in retrospect, certain that you were getting away with it all this time. 

“You know my name.”

“I do.”

“My real name.”

“In a manner of speaking. Got yourself a new last name since then though, didn’t you?”

Your lips pull up at the corners involuntarily. “Yes. I guess so.”

You can almost hear it now. The penultimate note of the overture writhing against convalescence like you might stay this way for a second longer. But it isn’t right to keep feeling the same old pain. At some point, it has to heal. 

“Hey,” John says, giving your shoulder a little shake to draw your attention back to him. The look in his eyes is serious. “This is as far as the story goes, alright?”

You stare up at him silently until you nod against his chest. 

“You’re my wife. End of story. The rest ain’t anyone’s business but ours.”

Off in the distance, an owl hoots, and its call hits your ear as a distant evocation to sleep. You press one last kiss to his chest before rolling off him, letting him put the fire out before the two of you turn in for the night, and then drawing a blanket over the both of you. 

And then, you go to sleep.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Sweetheart' ༄࿔ B.C. & Y.J.

⤷ Spit Roasting | Brat Taming  |  Manhandling

♱ word count: ~4k (i dont wanna talk about it.)

♱ warnings: *inhales* fem!reader, threesome, frat leader! Chan and frat boy! Jeongin, reader is a teeny bit of a brat, brat taming, some fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, light system mentioned but not used, spit roasting/eiffel towering, manhandling, mention of deepthroating, 2 "good girl"s, choking, impact play (1 face slap and like 1 spank), big cock channie AND soft-hard dom channie? (hard to explain but act surprised.), squirting, mention of sharing with other members of the frat (its only the rest of skz in the frat but specifically mean dom minho is named), jeongin films you with his phone and says hes gonna send it to the frat groupchat lol… i think thats it? Idk this was a fever dream

♱ notes: pov: sian getting carried away when she enjoys writing something. also the urge to make this a series is so strong...

mostly proofread, but may be some mistakes/inconsistencies

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Y/N… Can you uh…” Jeongin clears his throat and rubs his face with both hands as if trying to keep his composure. “Can I have a cup of water?” You smile and nod, standing on your feet and walking out of your room to get him some water. Once you closed the door behind you, after telling them you’d bring some snacks too, Jeongin looked over to his friend desperately.

“Hyung. I am… not your strongest soldier.” The comment in itself was enough to make Chan burst out laughing, but he tried not to grab too much attention so he chose to snicker into his arm instead.

“Breathe man.” Chan laughed and leaned back on his arms, stretching and taking some breaths himself. “I’m not fairing that well either haha… I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing.”

The most popular frat’s leader, Chan, and his youngest junior, Jeongin, are in your bedroom. And you, unfortunately, had agreed to tutor them after one long day in the library. They had the other 6 members with them and you were particularly stressed from preparing for a final later that day, so you arguably weren’t very clear-minded when you agreed to it.

Nonetheless, you kept your word and, after exchanging numbers with Chan, you sent them your address as well as a list of what days and times were best. It surprisingly wasn’t hard to find a time that worked for all three of you, and the study date was quickly decided. When the day came and you got a knock on your door and you opened it still in your pajamas, both sides were shocked at what they saw.

They had never seen any skin other than your arms, and sometimes your legs on the rare occasion that you wore a skirt. So when they were met with you in a crop top tank top and short shorts, they felt something awaken in them. Jeongin even more so, considering he had a secret little crush on you that only his frat knew about.

And you were surprised because you had completely forgotten that you agreed to tutor them. But considering they had already seen your outfit, you hadn’t bothered to change out of it. Which ultimately led to your current situation: your notebooks and their textbooks spread across your floor alongside them, with their painful bulges hidden underneath their hoodies.

You return only 15 minutes later with 4 bottles of water and a big plate of bagel bites. Both men drop everything instantly and lunge for the plate, taking it from you to “help” you carry everything, but in reality just so they can demolish the food. You smile and shake your head endearingly, a little too entertained by the childish action.

Through their fiending, Chan still offers you the plate many times and makes sure they leave enough for you to eat as well. Then, once both are satisfied and calmed down a little bit, they allow you to continue the lesson. Everything goes well for another 30 minutes until a slip-up happens with your wardrobe.

Chan notices first, and he feels his fingers twitching when you lean forward to point out something to Jeongin. You slightly lean over him in the process and the hand to hold yourself up rests right beside his thigh. The size difference between his thigh and your hand is enough to make his mind wander, but then he watches very closely as the strap of your tank top slowly falls down your shoulder from the new position.

Jeongin himself feels his own composure completely break at his sight. You leaning close to his face was enough to get him flustered, but the sight of your tank top strap slowly falling makes his cock twitch. Then, as if to add insult to injury, you shift just the slightest amount and your tank top loosens around your torso until it now hovers below your chest, giving him a good view of your tits, and a very slight view of your nipple.

Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat and he snaps his head to his eldest brother. “Hyung..” You hear it and look up at them curiously. The redness in their faces gives away that something happened, but it doesn’t hit you until Chan calls your name breathlessly and tugs at your fallen strap. Both men look at you with dark eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat when you realize that you just flashed 2 members of the most popular frat in the fucking state.

“Uh… Sorry… I didn’t realize-” You quickly fix your posture and your strap, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to hide it from them. Chan chuckles and looks you up and down, making your face flush even harder.

“It’s ok, baby. But I think we’ve done enough studying today. I think you should help us with something else now.” He leans forward and grabs your arms, tearing them away from your chest and helping you to your feet. He leads you to the bed, leaving Jeongin in awe on the floor left to do nothing but watch the situation unfold.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N-nie…” He starts once he softly pushes you to sit down. He brings one of his veiny hands to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against it soothingly as he talks, “You’ve helped us so much already, but there’s one more thing we both need from you if that’s ok?” His gaze is strong but comforting as he checks for consent, and you find yourself nodding quietly despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Jeongin rises to his feet eagerly, taking a seat next to you and immediately leaning into you, resting his hand on your lower back. He leans into your neck and breathes in the scent of your body wash, sighing into your ear at the way it makes his cock twitch. Chan laughs and uses the hand on your cheek to lean your head to the side for the younger man.

“Help us and we’ll help you, okay baby?” You nod and look up at him under your lashes, moaning quietly from the lips that latch themselves on your neck. “You gotta tell us what you like and don’t like though, yeah?”

“Mkay…” Your eyes flutter shut and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Jeongin bites down on your neck, his other hand now resting on your inner thigh and squeezing it.

“Can we be rough with you?” You nod. “Haha… Yeah? Can we smack you around a little too?” Your eyes snap open and you nod eagerly when your eyes meet. He smirks and bites his lip, the hand on your cheek sneaking its thumb into your mouth. He opens his mouth to tell you to suck but moans quietly when you do it on your own.

“Good girl…” His eyes flicker down to Jeongin, and the smile on his face widens when he asks the next question. “Wanna get Eiffel Towered? Jeonginnie here is a bit eager with it, he might fuck you silly, but I’m a little too big for you to take this soon. Don’t wanna hurt you just yet.” He winks at the last sentence and pushes his thumb against your tongue.

When you nod, his body visibly bristles and he removes his finger in favor of tugging at the hem of your shorts, silently asking if he can take them off. You don’t bother replying and just lift your hips, just enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You gasp when Jeongin’s hand immediately returns to your thigh, this time kneading the fat just an inch or two from where you need them the most.

Chan takes a seat opposite of Jeongin, on the other side of you, and rests his hand on the inner thigh of your other leg. He pulls it apart from the one Jeongin was squeezing and the younger man, despite being distracted with your neck, catches on and spreads you open.

You’re exposed to them both and, for the first time since he sat down, Jeongin releases your neck to take in the sight of your pussy. He sighs to himself and rests his forehead against your temple as he finally trails his fingers higher, ghosting them through your wet folds.

Your legs kick and Chan tightens his grip on your leg when Jeongin immediately sinks two long fingers into your hole, curling them off the bat and overwhelming you in all the right ways. Chan’s hand hooks your leg over his lap and moves to roughly play with your clit as Jeongin starts fingering you. He even leans down, craning his neck to land kisses all over your chest.

He lets up on your clit for just a second so he can tug your tank top under both of your tits, giving him better access. Then, he goes back to rubbing rough circles as his mouth ventures lower to your nipple. Your jaw drops and you lean back on your hands as you let them play with you freely, thoroughly enjoying all the attention.

Your moans are quiet and shaky, egging them on further as they work your body towards an orgasm. Chan is busy harshly sucking your left nipple as Jeongin speaks up for the first time in a while, his breath fanning your neck and making you shiver.

“You look so hot… Does this feel good, honey?” He curls his fingers up, digging his fingertips on the very edge of your g-spot.

“Jeongin… up more please-“ You whine and look at him desperately. He listens and shoves his fingers deeper, now angling them perfectly into your g-spot. You respond by furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your head back with a loud moan.

“Haha. There?”

“Uh-huh…” Chan laughs at your response and removes his fingers from your clit, nudging Jeongin away at the same time. You whine at the loss and fix your neck to look between them. “W-Why?”

Chan doesn’t answer and pulls you to your feet, yanking your tank top over your head. He places a kiss on each of your tits before kissing his way up to your neck, then stopping at your lips where he pushes his onto yours. You start to wrap your hands around his neck only to be spun around and held in place by Jeongin.

Jeongin pulls you into him and bites down on the opposite side of your neck that he had marked earlier as you faintly hear Chan undressing behind you. It’s only then that you notice the hardness pushing against your thigh and the bareness of the man in front of you. You wrap your hand around his dick and stroke him eagerly while he sucks more hickies into your skin.

Once Chan undresses fully, he crawls up your bed and rests on his knees near your pillows. Jeongin glances over at the older man and reluctantly pulls away, turning you back around and shoving you onto your hands and knees on your bed.

You grunt at the roughness but are given no time to react further as Chan drags you up the bed. You come face to face with his cock; hard, veiny, and an angry red. Your jaw drops and you look up at him to see a smirk plastered on his face. Yeah… you need him in you.

“Told you I was big, baby girl.” You whine and wrap your hand around him, placing a kiss on his tip as you revel in the sheer weight of him. “‘M not trying to break you today. Maybe next time, yeah?” You nod and his thumb pulls at your bottom lip. He doesn’t need to say anything else because you obey his command before it even leaves his lips.

Your lips wrap around him as the bed dips behind you, but you’re too enamored by his cock to pay the other man any mind. Chan moans loudly and tangles his fingers in your hair as Jeongin, now kneeling behind you, slides his tip through your folds a few times. “Ready?” He huffs out impatiently, but not wanting to force anything. He gets what he wants as soon as the question leaves his mouth because you push your hips back and grind against him.

The action causes his tip to slip into you for a split second and it’s all it takes for him to lose his composure. He curses and digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he shoves his entire length into you at once. You moan around Chan, making him also moan out at the vibrations of your throat. The hand in your hair tightens as Jeongin finds a frantic pace that also fucks you onto Chan’s cock simultaneously.

It's almost brutal the way Jeongin’s hips slam against yours. Even his balls find a way to smack against your folds and it brings your orgasm even closer than before. Your body is still wound up from them playing with your pussy, and you can’t control the constant clenching it provides to the younger of the two. He moans loudly and his hips stutter at a particularly tight hold from you.

“Shit. You’re clenching me like crazy, honey. Gonna cum already?” Your hand tightens around Chan’s base and you moan around him, nodding as best as you can with him half down your throat.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your eyes snap up to meet Chan’s and he stares back sternly, eyes narrowing. A whine leaves your throat subconsciously and he immediately shakes his head, standing his ground. The hand in your hair loosens slightly as you pull off of him, and you have to plead through your moans to get your point across.

“Please! I can’t hold it…” His hand leaves your hair completely and grabs onto your chin instead, roughly pulling you up to sit upright.

“I said no, so you’re not allowed to cum yet.”

He squeezes your cheeks and holds you in place as Jeongin’s thrusts speed up. He’s desperate to chase his own orgasm, and he doesn’t spare a thought to your struggle. He’s fucking into you so fast that your eyes flutter open and closed almost constantly. Chan’s eyes stay on your face the whole time, and the second he sees you go slack-jawed, he growls.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The eager cock constantly pummeling your insides was too much, especially at this new angle, but the sheer anger in his voice made some sick part of you happy, inadvertently cursing you to cum. Quiet grunts follow loud moans as you cum, and Jeongin fucks you through it, using your tightness to milk himself dry.

Chan allowed Jeongin to use you to ride out his orgasm up until the second he pulled out. Then he snatched you from under him and flipped you onto your back under himself. Jeongin laughed somewhere behind you at the aggressiveness and you swore you could hear your heart beating out your ass.

“Something tells me you know about the light system.”

Chan’s face was painted with anger, and you could feel that anger seep into the way he slapped his cock onto your used folds. You stayed quiet, a part of you wondering how far you could push him, and you got the reaction you wanted when his hand came down on your thigh when you still didn’t answer. You gasp and clench around nothing. Then, he waits only a few more seconds until you nod your head repeatedly, giving him the answer he wanted. You try to rise slightly to rest on your elbows, but Chan shoves you backward with a tsk.

“Good. Use it, yeah?”

He sinks himself into you before he can finish his own sentence, and you both hiss at the intrusion. He’s definitely bigger than Jeongin, maybe just as long, but the girth of him is enough to have your head spinning already. Your nails dig into the sheets as he shoves inch by inch into you, not slow enough to let you stretch properly, but slow enough to make you grow impatient. He’s not even bottomed out all the way before he’s stopping. Part of you is thankful because you can already feel him in your stomach, but the other side of you wants it all.

“Baby. Give it a second.” You whine and thrash your head around, doing everything in your power to push yourself back onto him. Chan sighs annoyedly and digs his fingertips into your hips to hold you still. Before he has to move another muscle the bed dips and a set of long fingers tightly squeeze your throat.

“Play nice for Channie, Y/N. It’s one thing to piss him off, but it’s another to piss us both off.” Jeongin leans down to whisper in your ear, but Chan still catches onto it. He also catches onto the way your walls flutter around his cock at the implication, and he realizes what the two of them have gotten into.

“Who would’ve thought the school’s resident good girl is a fucking brat.” He chuckles and talks under his breath. Jeongin snickers to himself and backs his face away to watch Chan plant his hands on either side of your waist in order to lean forward. 

“Aren’t I right? Your little pussy really liked the thought of pissing us both off.”

Your lips turn into a fine line and you look at him incredulously, lips slightly downturned. Then, as if to dig your own grave, your gaze drops from him and you stare off to the right. He follows your gaze curiously and he can feel the vein in his forehead pop out when you find more interest in your ceiling fan. His tongue pokes into his cheek and he digs his hands farther into your mattress.

“Yeah, nah. That’s fine.” His hips reel back and slam forward again, this time forcing the rest of his length into you. Your demeanor falters and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to try and keep quiet. You’re bad at hiding it though, and the way your eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper with each thrust gives you away. Both men laugh at the sight of you struggling to stay defiant, and Jeongin finally loosens his hold on your neck in favor of sneaking that hand down to pinch your nipple.

Chan’s hips are bruising, more so than Jeongin’s, as he doesn’t hesitate to hold back. Now that he has a better idea of what you like, he’s not afraid to give you everything. His movements prove that further as he pulls out almost all the way just to sink in fully, and repeating the action constantly all while going fast enough to render you brainless. 

When that stubbornness finally gives out and your gaze falls between your legs, your whole body shakes at the sight of his thick cock entering your body. Your eyes slowly trail up, taking in the sweat dripping from his stomach and then the redness that has taken over his chest and his neck. Your eyes finally reach his and he smiles at you sinisterly. “You done?” He tilts his head playfully and rolls his hips deeply, making your eyes squeeze closed for a moment.

“Ff… Fuck you.”

His hips come to a stop and you swear you can see his lips twitch.

“Yeah…?��� It comes out quiet and alongside a breathy, in disbelief, laugh. Your lips part to say another snarky comment and his hand comes down on your cheek, rendering you speechless. Your body tenses up and you clench tightly around him. He definitely didn’t miss the way you moaned at it either.

“C’mon, pretty. Be good for me.” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it tightly, cutting off some of your airflow. It makes your head spin, especially when his hips start moving again. He’s trying to convince you to play nice before he forces you to. But he realizes real quick that it just isn’t working. And you, instead, just furrow your eyebrows and dig your nails into the forearm of the hand that’s choking you. He grunts and releases your neck, this time wrapping both his hands around the underside of your knees. He pushes them up until you’re folded in half and your knees are by your ears.

“Ah! C-Chan!”

“That’s right, baby. Say my name~” Jeongin sits up on his knees and replaces Chan’s hands with his own, using some of his own body weight to hold your legs down. Now that he’s able to use his hands freely, Chan uses the thumb on one of his hands to spread your pussy lips open for him, giving him a better view of his cock splitting you open.

“Shit! Wait you’re- mmmmfuck! You’re too deep, Chan!” Your hands push against his stomach to try and push him out, but he shoves your hands away with his other hand. That same hand comes down on the side of your ass, making Chan sigh dreamily as your walls squeeze him so snuggly.

“This pretty pussy fits me so well baby. Want me to cum inside and make you ours? ‘Wanna be our frat’s pretty little sweetheart?” He moans loudly at the thought, and then once again when you nod and look up at him with teary eyes. Jeongin himself smirks at the thought and hovers his face over yours.

“That bratty little attitude of yours will get fucked out the window, honey. We got a looot of meanies over there. Minho-hyung will have a lot of fun with you.” Your eyes squeeze shut, already knowing who Minho was and hearing stories about how he was in bed. Most girls agree on the same two words: animalistic and straight-up mean.

“I should film Channie-hyung fucking you like this and send it to the group chat. Maybe even tell them we got ourselves a little toy. What do you think, hyung?” You hear the ding of his phone starting a recording and you’re cumming before you realize it; gushing around Chan and causing loud squelching noises to fill the room.

Chan laughs with his chest and his whole body shakes as he cums, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hips as he bottoms out one final time to cum deep inside. He doesn’t need to fuck you through his orgasm thanks to the way your walls continue to clench around him, almost suffocating him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You squeal when he finally slides out of you, every vein on his cock making you even more overly sensitive. Jeongin giggles and slides next to you on the bed, pulling you into his chest and running his hands down your back. Chan leans forward and places a kiss on your temple before swiftly leaving the room, stating he’s just going to get a washcloth to clean you off.

“You okay?” Jeongin kisses your neck softly and trails his kisses to the corner of your mouth. You hum and let your eyes become lidded, heavy with exhaustion. He can see it in your face and he coos, “You can sleep. Channie and I will take care of everything.” He smiles sweetly and tucks your hair behind your head, trying to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead too.

You hadn’t planned on any of this happening, but his fingers ghosting along your arms and all over your back are all too convincing as they urge your eyes to close. In seconds, you’re falling asleep to the feeling of Jeongin caressing your body and his lips repeatedly pushing against your cheek.

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[princesssmars]

home sweet home

a vi x reader.

the war between the silco and the firelights has gotten tense, and all you want is a day off to rest. but when an old flame returns from the dead you find the energy to give her a welcome home present she won’t forget.

wc: 4.491

contains : fluff, adoptive brother ekko and firelight reader. mentions of vi's abuse in prison :c smut. dry humping and tribbing yippee.

a/n : idk something about being separated for years and celebrating the reunion with rough and/or desperate sex does it for me bro 💔 started this beforeeee everything and hopefully this gets posted the morning of act ones drop <3 update i love vi but i need to kick her ass yayyy enjoy.

-

for lack of a better word, your day was getting really fucking weird.

you woke up with a weird feeling in your stomach, an ache strong enough to rouse you from your sleep and out of your bed. you chalked it up to hunger, having skipped another meal last night to stay up looking over some of the injured firelight’s and new schematics for tools and weapons.

but once you got a good meal into your stomach, staring up at the giant tree you called your home, you realized the feeling wasn’t from neglecting your appetite. it was that feeing you got when something big was about to happen.

you felt it when the breakthroughs were made on some of the bigger inventions like the hoverboards, when the firelights found this impossible and beautiful grove and made it their home, on that day years ago where your life crumbled around you in the space of a few days.

so it was only up to fate if something bad or good would happen today. and you didn’t feel like waiting to find out.

quickly making your way up the tree, you rapidly do your special knock on ekko’s door, only to be met with silence. you try again and silence still. trying and slightly failing to keep yourself calm, you head back down and start asking others if they’ve seen him, the ache in your stomach growing at some of the awkward and shifty responses you get.

for six years you and ekko have been inseparable. both traumatized by the trials of growing up in the undercity, getting taken in by benzo, and then the sudden and bloody death of your friends, you had no one else to depend on except for each other. it was hard to put it lightly, navigating a rapidly changing undercity and taking care of your little adoptive brother while trying to deal with your own trauma. even as you met others and formed this group you now call family, you made a promise to each other to stick side by side no matter what.

and that included not running off and doing god knows what in the early morning while the other was sleeping.

you’re halfway through pulling on your coat and mask when you hear the sound of the main door opening and a small commotion, running as fast as you can to get down the tree again before a tall figure stops you.

he tries to be funny, throwing out a 'hey hey hey, slow down! your running like there’s a fire-ow!' before he holds a gloved hand to the side of his arm, cradling the spot where you punched him. you get a solid minute of berating and cussing him out before the look on his face tells you he's being serious, conflict clear in his brown eyes.

you have about a million questions running in your head as he leads you to one of the stock rooms, his breath inhaling multiple times to explain before he lets it out in frustration.

“just…promise you won’t freak out, ok?”

you nod before he pushes you inside and closes the door behind you.

you scoff, calling his name and knocking on the hard material for him to let you out. you weren’t in the mood today to entertain his hidden playful nature, most of the time you indulged him but you were too worried at the moment. you’re seconds away from cursing him out again when a soft voice calls out your name from the darkness behind you behind you.

no. it’s not possible. it’s deeper, more rugged then you remember, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t forget that voice. you heard it in your dreams for years, pushing you to keep going for yourself when you felt like giving up, reminding you she was always there by your side when you felt so alone.

you slowly turn your body, unconsciously trying to protect yourself from the possibility of this being a farce when two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into a sturdy torso. at the slightest glimpse of hit pink hair your eyes start to water and your chest is heaving with long building gasps, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and digging your face into her neck.

for years you’d daydream about this moment, what you’d say if you were reunited with the girl who was your best friend and likely the love of your life. you’d imagine the rushed out words and apologies, the shared wails as you assured the other you’d never leave their side again. but this silence just feels so right, makes so much sense for all the emotions you’ve been letting sit in your heart without any kind of resolution or closure.

she pulls away from you slightly and you hope she ignores the subtle whine that leaves your throat as she does. her large, and you mean really large, palms come up to cup your cheek as she stares at your face, blue eyes flitting across your features like she’s trying to commit every piece of you to memory. you don’t mind, you remember how she liked when you let her observe things so she could take in things as much as possible lest they be gone in a second. it just gives you an excuse to stare at her, too.

and gods above are you staring. obviously a large part of you is sentimental and sad as you see how much she’s changed over the years; the longer jagged shapes of her jaw, her nose. your heart pangs seeing the cuts in her brow and lip that you unconsciously bring a finger up to rub at. but it takes an embarrassing amount of strength not to pay attention just to her lips as you feel over the scar, how her bright eyes go wide and unblinking as she stands and lets you do whatever it is you’re doing.

you want to do anything to break the tension and you’re given the opportunity when your eyesight drifts slightly to the right and catches onto the tattoo on her upper cheek.

“did you…tattoo your name on your face?”

you’re still so close you can feel her laugh rather than hear it, her chest pressing into your when she huffs through her nose.

“wanted to make sure the guys in there knew who was kicking their asses without the need for introductions.”

“still punching first yelling insults later?”

“nothing anybody in there didn’t deserve.”

gods does your heart hurt for her. you knew it was likely other people like her were probably in stillwater, disposed of to cover someone’s ass or see as thrash just for where they were born. but you knew despite that she would have faced so much being thrown in there at such a young age that you not anyone else could understand, the way they must have treated her…

even after all these years it’s like she can ready your body language like a book, able to know your fingers stalling in their exploration means your mind is wandering, and given the previous subject matter she knows it can’t be good. her bandaged fingers gently wrap around yours and rub over your knuckles until your attention is back on her.

“hey, stay with me for now. we’ll have time to go over all that stuff later. right now just stay with me, alright?”

like you could ever say no to her.

you figure the best way to make progress until your much needed conversation is yo acquaint her with where your sure she’ll be staying until she gets back on her feet, however she chooses to do so. at first she seems uncomfortable with the idea of staying at the base, like she doesn’t want to intrude on the home you and others had built from the ground up.

“obviously i’ll help with anything you guys ask but are you sure everyone would be alright with me staying here? i kind of punched the shit out of that scar guy.”

“he’ll get over it just like everyone else. you’re a legend here, vi, you’re up on that mural for a reason.”

the whole time you show vi around you feel a warm mess in your chest. you forgot just how nice it was to spend time with her, thinking back on fond memories of the two of you sneaking away when the others were busy to spend time together on the safer and quieter parts of the undercity. your feelings aren’t helped with how close vi insists on being, hand never leaving your grasp as you tug her around and occasionally bumping her shoulder into yours when your mind wanders.

you’re recounting the story of how one of the hoverboards went haywire and crashed into one of the bases walls when a low rumble from the side of you cuts you off, footsteps halting you in place. when you turn to vi she has that same cute embarrassed look she used to have when you were younger, eyes wide and body still like if she didn’t move you wouldn’t acknowledge what just happened.

she knows better than to argue with you as you drag her pliant body somewhere, most likely to get her something to eat after only having some scarfed down jerichos a few hours ago. you bc lead her to some small communal dining area before not so gently guiding her to sit, eyes on her form for a few seconds to make sure she won’t be stubborn and refuse to let you grab some food for her.

and why would she even think of resisting when she can sit here and finally get a few minutes to just relax. ever since cait somehow managed to get her out of prison her body had been on, sheer stubbornness and willpower keeping her going until she found what she was looking for. a part of her knew she wouldn’t stop searching, wouldn’t stop hoping to see you and her sister again.

but as she watches you across the room pick and prod over a meal a vastayan is helping to out on your plate her shoulders unclench and the muscles in her legs ease. nothing felt better than when you’d dote over her. she remembers one time she caught a flu and had to stay inside and distant from everyone, ready to be miserable in solitude until you burst in with vander hot on your heels and insisted you wouldn’t leave her side until she was better, that she’d do the same for you.

which she did have to wind up doing as you caught the sickness from her after only three days. she never once complained.

when you finish her plate you look back to her with a sweet smile and start to walk back over to her. she writhes in her seat a bit under your gaze, suddenly feeling a little too warm when you sit the plate in from of her and tell her to eat up. she tries her best not to scarf this down as well, but when you give her a look that says you know how hungry she she is and won’t mind she can’t help herself.

she spends the rest of the day by your side, never leaving your sight as you introduce her to some of your fellow firelights and some of the younger kids who’d heard stories about her and vander. you can tell it still prods at an unhealed wound to talk about him in past tense, but that she still looks back on those fond memories with happiness. you’re more than happy to join in and help narrate the tale of one of your more adventurous and dangerous trips through the old undercity.

eventually the sun starts to set and the lights of the tree turn from a dazzling green to a soft collection of oranges and yellow, a signal to everyone that it’s time to wind down and end the day. the two of you meet back of with ekko who tells you he had already shown cait to an extra room she could use for the next few days.

“cupcake didn’t put up too much of hassle today, did she? don’t think she’s ever spent this much time past the promenade.”

“she was alright. uptight but i can tell she means well. you can talk to her in the morning, her room is right across from yours.”

you’re paying too much attention to just being in the space of two of your favorite people again that you don’t even notice how vi has turned her head to look at you, silently asking you to ask her for what she hopes you both want. by the time you realize and turn back to ekko he has that dumb little grin on his face that he used to wear all the time he’d catch the two of you getting a little too close for comfort.

“don’t even start, ekko.”

“i didn’t say anything! i’ll catch up with you two tomorrow. try not to be so loud, some of us need a good nights sleep tonight-“

you quickly reach over and swat at the young boys arm as he laughs and hurries away from the two of you, voice carrying as he leaves to head off to sleep.

it’s surreal as you take vi’s hand into yours and start the brisk walk to your personal quarters. you don’t have any expectations about tonight but you can’t lie and say a deep part of yourself isn’t hoping to get more than close with her tonight.

once you reach your bedroom you start shuffling for some clothes for the both of you to wear while she prods and examines all of your things. you watch her for a moment, nearly giving yourself away with a laugh when she nearly breaks the dusty antique snow globe you’d found abandoned on a scrap run.

“it’s crazy, right? how they’ll just abandon things without even thinking about their worth.” you speak offhandedly as you settle yourself on to your bed and start to remove your boots and holsters.

“yeah, no offense but i just. really don’t wanna talk about abandoning things right now.” her tone is malicious enough to make you sit your movements, eyes softening at the broken and tired woman in front of you.

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no, no, it’s okay. i understand,” you gently reach out your hand to hold hers, locked in that tight fist she does when she’s bottling up her anger. “can you talk to me about it? whatever you want to say, just say it.”

she rolls her shoulder before setting down the globe and sitting on the bed, her tensed back facing you. you gently pass the spare clothes you have for her and watch as she takes them and sets them on her lap.

“every night for the first year i was in there i’d have these nightmares. about what happened. first it was just, replaying what happened on this endless loop. then it was wondering what i could’ve done different, if i could’ve been smarter-“

“vi dont do that,” you crawled over to sit right behind her body placed your hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing them across and down to her forearms. trying to look her in the eye proves useless. “what happened was…tragic, and blaming yourself is pointless. you did what you could, i know you did.”

“how? how could you possibly know?” she finally turns her head to you and the look in her eyes does nothing to help the sick feeling you have building up in your throat and stomach. “i told you to stay with ekko, you weren’t there. how could you not be even a little angry at me, for not being here for powder, for ekko and the firelights, for you?”

you can hear the lump in her throat and see the tears building in her eyes when you bring your hands up to cup her face. a stray tear runs down her face and you brush it away with your thumb.

“i could never be angry at you, vi. not for this. the girl i know always kept fighting for her family, and if she didn’t come back to us it was because she couldn’t. she’d never abandon us, you wouldn’t abandon us.”

she gently nods her head and nuzzles her face into your hands. you give her a minute to calm down, continuing to softly brush her cheeks and her crazy hair out of her eye.

“what is going on with your hair?” you whisper as you struggle to push a strand away and out of her face, giving up once it falls back into place for the tenth time.

her eyebrows scrunch. "what, you dont like it? its cool."

"its covering half of your face, its horrible."

"you'll get used to it." she shakes her head with a small smile before softly resting her hand on your lower waist.

"maybe, but im definitely not going to brush over you tattooing your name on your face. please tell me you didnt make any other rash b ody adjustments in there."

the growing smile on her simultaneously puts butterflies in your stomach and makes you very nervous. its not helped when she turns her back to you again and starts to shrug off her jacket, revealing the previous glimpse of her neck tattoo you'd seen goes further down. way further down.

"wow. that's...wow." you want to bury your head into your hands and leave the room. 'wow just wow?' really smooth. "can i touch?"

"uhhh yeah, no problem."

after she gives her consent your fingertips lightly hover and brush over the interlapping lines of curves inked into her skin. you feel a small thrill seeing the goosebumps rise on her arms when your hands glide down them, taking pride in knowing you can still bring out a physical reaction in her with your touch.

"this is really nice, vi. did you get someone in there to do it for you?"

"nope, did 'em both myself. wasn't exactly the best environment to ask people to have access to your body with a needle for hours at a time."

you hum in response while continuing to observe the tattoo. you can see it goes further down her back and decide to speak without thinking too much about what you're saying.

"can i see the rest of it?"

you're a bit scared at how still she goes, wondering if maybe you crossed a boundary before her hands slowly reach behind her and start to lift the white fabric of her shirt until its full taken off of her body.

you make sure to continue the gentle touches as your hands run down the muscles and planes of her back, continuing to admire the clouds and gears that make up the design. you feel a little pang in your heart when you see the initials of mylo and claggor at the bottom of the tattoo, along with the number of welts and scars on her skin.

"its beautiful, vi." you whisper. her body subtly scooches back on the bed to get closer to your touch. the moment is just shy of overwhelming, which is probably why you leave a small kiss on her shoulder, right where one of the scars starts before trailing down her back a few inches. she lets out a muffled noise and you start to pull away before the strong grip of her palm clasps down on your leg, holding you in place.

you leave more kisses and pecks over the length of her tattoo as your legs start to wrap around her from behind, both of her hands grasping your thighs as she relaxes into the affection. you test the waters when you come back up to her neck, lightly sinking your teeth into her skin.

"oh fuck-" her strained voice hits your ears right before she abruptly pulls out of your arms and tugs you by the arm and leg until your reversed, sitting in her lap with her hands gripping at your hips.

you continue to drag yours up and down her arms, reveling in the fact that you can now see her facial expressions, how her eyes droop and lips part as you slightly scratch at her skin.

you adjust your hips to sit closer to her at the same time she lifts hers up, the friction causing small noises to escape both of your throats. her eyes open up and she stares up at you with those big light blues.

your hand travels up to her hair, running through it as you keep looking at her. "are you sure? i dont wanna push you,"

"you wont, i do. please, just wanna be close to you."

you give in, wrapping your arms around her neck and bringing her into a sweet kiss, reveling in the feel of her arms coming up to grip on your back. its slow and languid as you get used to each other before she adds her tongue to the mix, pulling a moan from your throat as you try to bury yourself even closer into her hold.

you move your focus onto her neck, trailing kisses and bites down and across her throat, as she rocks your bodies together and claws at your back.

"used to dream about this, about you, missed you so much," her voice has a slight rasp to it already that drives you nuts, instantly darting back up to bring her into a messy kiss. she adjusts her knee to rest in between your legs and lifts it up into your core, pulling away to look at you as you moan at the friction.

"jeez, what'd they teach you in there?" you let out a breathy chuckle while you grind down into her knee. your eyes drift close before her gentle kiss to her cheek drags your gaze back to her, unblinking as she watches you come undone for her. her stare along with the hazy smile on her face yanks you to the edge, gasping and moaning as you come in her arms.

you feel almost drunk as you come down from your orgasm, nuzzling into her neck while she presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and the side of your neck. she starts to place your body on the bed before you tug her back on top of you.

"what, aren't you tired?"

"maybe, but not tired enough to stop now. take off your pants."

she grins like she'd just been offered free sweets from a piltovian candy shop for the rest of her life. you try not to giggle as she stumbles off the bed and tugs her pants off before settling her body back on top of yours. she resumes her barrage of kisses and bites into your skin, finally paying some attention to your chest while you bring your hands up to thumb at her nipples, biting your lip at how sensitive she is to the touch.

she wastes no time spreading your legs beneath you and getting your silent agreement before moving her lips to rest over yours, taking a second to drag her fingers through your cunt and stuffing them inside her mouth.

"vi!"

"sorry, was just curious." she leans down to kiss you sweetly before resting her self on you, legs draped over the curves of her arms as she oh so slowly starts to drag herself back and forth over you.

you slightly wish you had done this first as the overstimulation makes it oh so intense for you, the feeling of her hair and clit rubbing over yours nearly sending you into a frenzy. your eyes roll back into your head once she starts to speed up her movements, her soft whines and grunts into your neck only adding to the physical stimulation you're feeling.

your core feels like its on fire when you start to hear the subtle whispers she's letting out into your neck, curses of 'fuck, fuck oh-fuck,' and grunts of your name mix together to create a desperate harmony.

"vi, feels too- oh my god i-"

"i know, baby, i know," she moans, pressing a harsh bite into the underside of your neck. you can feel her smile into it when you involuntarily let out a squeal at the action. "never gonna leave you, pretty. could never leave you, leave this."

you never fancied yourself the possessive type, but the reaction you have to her words definitely proves there's something there as you wrap your hands around her shoulder and squish her down into you again, moaning just a little too loud at the lack of closeness and feeling of her chest rubbing against yours.

you can feel your next orgasm building quick and fast, thighs trembling as you desperately grind your hips into her even harder. you can tell she's close too, hips losing their rhythm as her panting gets even louder. you nudge your face to the side and rub your cheek against hers, thankful she gets the hint to smother both of your noises with an intense kiss.

"fuck, vi, missed you s'much, love this, love you-"

you're grateful that you have some semblance of brain activity left to drag her head down to your neck to bit down as she cums, her groan loud and long as she keeps moving her hips until you cum only a few seconds after she does. you can feel a tear or two escape your eyes, overstimulation so intense you think you see janna for a moment.

both of your chests are rapidly panting as you catch your breaths, dragging your hand through her sweaty hair while she presses gentle kisses over the marks she no doubt left over your chest. now you'll have to wear more layers for a while, but at the moment you cant find it in you to care.

"you have no idea how glad i am that i still have you," you almost dont pick up on the silent whisper she says, muffled by the current kisses. you lazily drag your fingers to lift her up by the chin until she's looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and affection.

"you're always gonna have me vi, i promise."

you can tell she has her doubts, you do as well. but she lets herself relax into your hand yet again and wears the tiniest smile while she starts to fall asleep in your embrace.

you gently pull the covers over both of your bodies and follow her into the lull of sleep, falling asleep in vi's arms again for the first time in years.

you have the nicest dreams you've had in years.

[weaselle]

i mean. It IS the comments section. Sends me into a rage too. And yeah, there's a lot of that sentiment all over the country. But not as much as you might assume if the comments section is your main sample. Also, california is... mostly conservative, by area. And disturbingly close by population. California voted for Reagan. Look at this

the only thing that makes california blue is that more people live in the blue areas, so those areas have more votes, and more of the people in the heavily populated places vote blue. But by population we're still only something like a 55/45 split percentage wise, so single issues like prison labor don't take a lot of people to swing it the other way.

And even for a very liberal voter, there's always like 10 or 15 things on the ballot that will raise taxes to do, and very few people are going to vote yes on all of them even though they are all incredibly worthwhile.

Because we already pay almost 45% of our income in total tax, plus one of the highest sales taxes of any state keeping our grocery bill high, and our housing prices are one of the worst in the country, and most people are already struggling financially, and i can tell you from experience you check yes on about 3 or 4 propositions that will raise taxes even more and you start to feel like you're at about the limit of what you can afford because you're already broke and you're voting to be broker.

Personally, I still voted yes to end prison labor in this state, but i didn't vote on a few things i believe in because... i used up all the yes votes i think i can afford. Plus a couple, actually, because i will absolutely vote to be even more poor to get some worthy things done. But then, I don't have kids or a mortgage or a sick spouse or anything either.

And prison labor isn't on the general population's radar in a big enough way. I know it's not, because when i get off the internet and i tell real people to their face that california uses prisoners for an amount of firefighting that would cost the state 100 million dollars if we actually paid people to do it instead of using prisoners, they never know that.

They also don't know just how much prison labor the US really uses, and they aren't aware of how, for example, the georgia governor's house (like the white house but for the state governor instead of the country's president) is a re-purposed slave plantation and the grounds keeping and cooking and housecleaning and everything is done on that ex-plantation by (mostly black) prison labor. So the main way it's a different facility now is that it produces legislation instead of cotton.

Me, i am very passionate about ending prison labor but there isn't enough public awareness (which i try my best to address with the people around me) and there isn't enough public agreement on priorities.

People sit with their voting guide every year trying to choose between prisoners, school kids, wildlife, air-quality, funding for battered women, environmental chemical regulation, the homeless, mental health services, raising minimum wage and a bunch more programs it feels shameful to vote "no" on... but i can only agree to be so much poorer next year before i have a panic attack about the possibility of winding up homeless again myself.

And there's chaff that gets in the way of the public having a clear cut decision. Because prison work programs are actually SUPER beneficial to incarcerated people (for example, gaining them an employable skill for when they get out, often with an employer who might actually hire them as an ex-con because they've already been working there as a convict. Incarcerated people go back to prison far less often if they have access to these kinds of programs). It's just, you can't tie it to any entity's profit margin or it becomes slave labor. It has to be a program that exists 100% for the benefit of the prisoners, which is always going to cost money and be a harder sell to the public. And the more complex an issue is, the harder it is to get the public to be educated about it, or have agreeing opinions.

Anyway, I don't really know anyone irl that feels the way the comments section feels, but i do think a lot of people vote yes on about half the things they wish they could afford. I don't think it lost because most people have "fuck those prisoners" feelings and voted no on it, i think it lost because a lot of people who would instantly agree to it if it was explained well to them and totally free, voted yes on other stuff and then left that one blank because it didn't make their top 5 list.

There's too many holes in the dike, and we already feel like we're out of fingers. And "prisoners" is a demographic that the public does not tend to have as much empathy for without unlearning a lot of internalized biases. It's starting from behind and it's competing with a lot of things competing for voter's hearts and minds... and wallets.

I suspect the people you've had conversations with who are aghast about the results are probably not in touch with this part of the way things are, or else they think the issue they are most passionate about should automatically be the issue everyone else is most passionate about too.

I hate it, I HATE that abolishing prison labor wasn't passed, but i get how that happens. There's ten drowning people and i only have three life vests and all the choices are tragic. And there's a hole in the bottom of the lifeboat i managed to get in.

i've been seeing a lot of californians aghast at the proposition to abolish prisoners being used as slave labour getting voted down and i have no idea how to fix this on a societal scale but after having enough conversations with people you really do start to realise that a massive percentage of the population sees prisoners as subhuman and therefore believes that once someone is in prison for any reason then everything bad that's done to them is simply their just desserts

[emmyrosee]

shhhhHHHHHUTUPIDONTWANTTOTALKABOUTIT

-

The first time you sleep over Katsuki’s, it’s not long after he’s moved into his apartment with the rest of his friends.

Which is bold, the only one who doesn’t flirt with you any chance they get is Mina -mainly because she has her own place- but she’s always telling Katsuki that the minute you get bored with him, she’s there to swoop in.

But his friends waste no time in making sure to rile Katsuki up with cheesy pickup lines that mean nothing to you, but everything to him. He hates the idea of having his friends hit on you, but you’d be lying if riling him up wasn’t exhilarating.

You smile as you hear bare feet pad along the tiling of the kitchen, a massive presence looming behind you; it’s warm, loving, and you feel yourself relaxing at the closeness.

“Morning,” he rasps, arms wrapping around your waist. You smile and curl against him, tipping your head back to look at him.

“You hungry?”

“You didn’t have to make us breakfast,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to the curve of your neck.

You mewl and bend your arm to wrap around him, “I know, I just wanted to do something nice for my man and his friends for being such good company last night.”

He grumbles, “don’t ever refer to my roommates as ‘good.’ Bunch of fucking menaces and creeps.”

“They can’t be too bad,” you hum, turning off the stove. God knows how long you’ll both be drooling with affection. “After all, you let me meet them,” you coo. “And you’d never let your little baby be put in danger.”

“Fucking hate when you call yourself that,” he snaps, spidering his fingers up your side. You squeal and shrink to the side, only to be met with pokes on the other. “Katsuki!”

“Don’t be a little shit and I won’t have to torment you,” he snickers. You’re quick to flick off the stove with what little movement your arms can give you while protecting you from tickles, and you duck as fast as you can under his caging limbs to escape.

He must like the challenge, because he lets you go, only to barrel after you into the living room. A small coffee table separates you both, and you’re at a standstill as you watch each other.

“Katsuki!” You giggle, making a sudden dart to try and throw him off your trail. It doesn’t deter him, like he’s able to predict what you’re going to do before you do. “Y-You’re gonna wake everyone up!”

“I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing,” he snorts. “You’re the one screaming and whining.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Are not-“

“I think it’s bold of you to argue with me instead of sprinting away.” He shrugs, making a dash for you and wasting no time in grabbing you into his big arms. You writhe and laugh in his grip, desperate to not shriek and wake his poor roommates. Giggles bubble wildly over your lips, and he hauls you back into the kitchen before plopping you onto the countertop, distant from the stove. You instinctively move your hands to card his blonde hair, and he leans in to steal the last of your giggles from your lips.

“How much time we got before breakfast burns?” He mumbles, hands smoothing up your thighs. Crimson eyes glimmer with mischief, and he bumps your nose with his.

You chuckle and shake your head, legs wrapping around his thick waist, “it was burning before you came in; I turned off the stove so it wouldn’t burst into flames.”

He snorts, “good.” One of the hands resting on the meat of your thighs comes up to grip your chin, “now I don’t have to rush.”

“Ew,” you giggle, but it dies as quickly as you said it when he connects your kiss, working his lips against yours in this own way, full of passion and love with just enough tease to have you whimper.

The hand on your cheek shifts down to rest on your delicate throat, dangling like a necklace. A subtle act of dominance to make you shiver.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

“I love you more-“

“Ewwwww!!!”

“Who knew he had a weakness?”

“Lookin’ good, Dynamight!”

Immediately, Katsuki’s shoulders hike up as the shrill voices from his friends ring through the air. You let out a string of laughter while the other boys you were visiting peer around the wall of the apartment, Sero with a face of disgust, Kirishima with a playful understanding and Kaminari with a cheesy bite of his lip.

“I’m going to KILL YOU IDIOTS!” He barks, abandoning you to dash over to the trio, mainly targeting Kaminari and Sero, who sprint away as fast as they can. Kirishima chuckles and makes his way over to you, helping you off the counter with a sigh.

“How’s he ever going to keep being Number One if you keep doing this to him?”

You snort and elbow his ribs while somewhere in the house, Katsuki caught Denki, and the screams ring loudly in the walls.

“Shut up and help me remake breakfast, dickhead.”

[mlyscha]

↳ LOVE IS TRUST ⭑

𝓼ynopsis. where you and your boyfriend try the "i trust my boyfriend" trend: will they be able to succeed? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, trendy, kind of domestic? 𝔀arnings. curse words, reader gets hit on the head (help), not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1,5k+ 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: just wanted to say hi and thank you guys for the 60+ followers, this is crazy! (╥ ω ╥) it has been only a few days since i started writing here and i have all of you guys here already… it couldn’t feel sweeter and softer than this! <3 thank you, everyone. 🤍

― 𝓱eeseung: confidence is not the key in this case...

you were sat on a chair, heeseung behind you holding a slipper while your phone were recording the moment. "okay... i'm scared but..." you prepared yourself for the worse, carefully protecting the side of your head with your arms and hands, just to make sure the water bottle above your head doesn't fall somehow; other than your boyfriend shooting a slipper to make it fall. "i trust my boyfriend! ah!" you screamed, waiting for him to throw the slipper and the water bottle placed above your head. "OH MY GOD, BABE," you turned to look at him from ― not too ― afar. "you did it!" your boyfriend, walking closer to you with a proud and petty grin replied: "yeah, that was kind of easy," then he shrugged, kissing your lips.

a few minutes later: "'kay guys, hee said he wants to attempt it again so... here we are..." you pursed your lips while looking at the camera, not very excited about this, already having that gut feeling. however, you just consented because this man seemed enthusiastic about the throw thing ― it even made you question yourself if he was mad at you somehow ㅠㅠ. anyway, when heeseung felt confident enough he threw the slipper. but! it hit your head and he immediately came to your rescue, back hugging you, feeling guilty and apologetic. "oh my god babe, i'm sorry," he was feeling worried about you, but when he realised you were actually laughing your ass off, he began to laugh as well, easing the atmosphere.

― 𝓳ongseong: nonchalant about it, but still succeeds.

jongseong is not a big fan of your couple trends ideas or something, worse when it involves your safety. but it's what they say: happy wife, happy life - even though he hasn't proposed yet. sat on a chair while jongseong waited beside you until you finished your tiktok video introduction, getting in position after you hit pause. he grabbed a slipper and gave you a quick forehead kiss before going back to his position, waiting for you to hit the record button. "i trust my boyfriend...!" "guys, i didn't want to do this, but, here i am," your boyfriend explained before throwing the slipper and successfully making the bottle above your head fall. "you did it, baby! woo-hoo!" you cheered for him, making the corner of his lips twitch.

bonus: after you recorded the video and posted it, jongseong told you to re-do this trend, but this time, with him, and let's say... sometimes the fourth time is the charm, isn't it?

― 𝓳aeyun: failed but redems himself.

different from jongseong, jaeyun would be actually excited to try it since you promised him he could be the next one having a slipper being thrown across their head. anyway, cutting the yap, your boyfriend was behind you making funny moves from afar, but when you told him to stop just so you can record the intro, he did it, actually feeling shy after you hit record. "okay, i trust my boyfriend ya'll..." and then... "OUCH!" "OH MY GOD, baby i'm sorry," feeling a extreme sense of guilt but playfulness, he went to hug you. "i'm so sorry, you can hit me now." he kisses your scalp/head, trying to make it less sore.

"okay guys, now it's my turn..." jaeyun announced, sitting on the chair you were sat two minutes before. he sighs before saying the catchy phrase: "i trust my girlfriend!" he closes his eyes, trying to stay still and appear calm ― even though he was shitting his pants thinking you were going to throw this slipper with such a force. however, you threw it and the water bottle sitting on his head fell. "i did it!" "WOW!" your boyfriend would immediately jump and hug you, praising you ― trying to make you forget about his embarrassingly and clumsy failed attempt.

― 𝓼unghoon: "why would i do that?" kind of guy.

yeah? why would he do that? alright, before we jump into the funny part ― not for sunghoon ― he might sound a bit petty and kinda nonchalant about this whole thing not to be rude, but because he just doesn't want to get you hurt. also, he thinks that if the quote was: safe wife, happy life, maybe things could've been solved more easily. anyway, your boyfriend began to practice how he could succeed this trend, which means, how he can throw this slipper across your head just perfectly enough to make that stupid water bottle fall.

after a few seconds, he asked you a hundred time: "why would i do this? i mean... why?!" he pouts, walking closer to you and placing both of his hands on your shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. you held his hands, looking back at sunghoon with a small grin. "babe, i am not going to die, it's just a silly couple trend, relax; you're just gonna throw the slipper and try to make this water bottle fall, while it lays on top of my head, okay?" no, it is not okay, but, instead, he replies: "okay..." you record a simple intro with hoon on the back, jumping into the main part of the tiktok. "i trust my boyfriend- OH MY GOD! THAT WAS FAST!" "yeah... that was fast..." "you still did it, babe! i'm alive!" "i am never doing these things again..." ― lies... (¬_¬).

― 𝓼unoo: the one having the most fun here.

i am used to describe sunoo as the giggliest and the most giddy one, and that specially applies for this kinds of situations too. with that being said i might mention that sunoo was actually just as excited as jaeyun could be, knowing that you wouldn't actually be mad at him or seriously injured, more like a funny moment he will share with you.

"okay, so i just have to throw it? like... this?" he pretended like he was going to throw the slipper. "yeah, yeah, that's all," you nodded, sitting on the chair and pressing record, since you had finished the intro already. "i trust my boyfriend." you said, waiting for the slipper to him your head or maybe the bottle. however, a loud smack was heard, and it was the sound of the slipper falling against the floor. both of you burst in a fit of laughter, before you asked: "want to try again?" "no... but can we switch? i actually wanna see if you can do it..."

― 𝓳ungwon: wonnie says: no, girlfriend sad. wonnie then says: fine...

jungwon is a mix of jongseong and sunghoon, nonchalant and worried about it. he have a big chance of succeeding, and if he does, he would say something like sunghoon said previously ― "i am not doing any such a thing like this with you anymore...!" but what happens if he doesn't succeed? well, first of all he will and would most definitely check on you and probably say: i told you it wasn't a good idea.

"'kay, i'll press start alright? get on your position." "baby, i'm scared i'll hit you too hard..." "would you hit me straight on the head hardly?" "no, but-" "exactly." "but i'll have to hit the bottle, not you, ugh... anyway." jungwon brushes off the urge to stop this, but after he realises you pressed record, he gives up. "i trust my boyfriend." and then after a few seconds preparing himself to throw it... bam! "i told you this wasn't a good idea!" even though his tone seemed kind of pissed off, he still walked over and checked on you like i said, laughing at you. "i told you silly head," he messes up with your hair a little bit. "this wasn't a good idea."

― 𝓻iki: laughs so hard that it makes you mad.

riki is the most playful one besides sunoo. he gives off this annoying guy at class vibes, almost like a bully who's soft on the inside. with that being said, riki would be down to record it, but still a bit worried, reassuring you wouldn't be mad at him if you get accidentally hit. knowing your boyfriend a little too well, you asked: "will you laugh at me?" and he would most definitely reply: "of course i will."

"okay, get ready, i'll start and then you can throw it- ouch! what was that for?" you turned around after getting hit on the head by the slipper. "i didn't pressed record or said the thing!" you complained. "oh sorry, my bad, i heard i could throw it." you sighed while your boyfriend picked the slipper up again, getting back into his position. "...i trust my boyfriend." you said, kind of hesitant. "RIKI! THAT HURT!" you placed your hand above the sore spot on the back of your head. "i'm-" giggle. "sorry!" giggle. you began to fake sob, making him feel guilty and this time actually worried. "oh... actually? did it actually hurt?" "'yes, it did," you looked up at him with a playful grin. "but... you know, it is your time to trust on me..."

riki ended up with a sore bump on his head. <3

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[botslayer]

If the fire, sulfur, black iron, and devils every which way didn't give it away, both of us aren't in a place you want to be after you die. I'd offer you a drink but the only things they offer you usually came out of... Well. You. My own blood has a pretty good palete.

You don't have to panic. Not yet. You aren't dead, again, not yet. You're only here because everyone gets a fair warning. So change your ways, yadda yadda, find Christ, yadda yadda... Can you tell my heart isn't in it? Good. At least they'll vary up the torture for it. You get sick of eating hunks off of yourself and still being able to feel it the whole time.

Oh... You want to know what I did for that punishment? Well. It started when I was alive. I killed a man in self defense. Robber broke in, I shot him. And it was all down hill from there. I moved out to the woods after the third guy... Mostly because the best I could do there was plead manslaughter.

Anyway. I bought a plot of land not too far from a hiking trail, built a little shack. Turned it into quite the operation. I was a one-man Sawyer family. I had butcher knives, cleavers, cutting boards, sausage stuffers... I remember the first time I ate a man in those woods. The first woman was alright. I screwed up the spices for her liver, though. Live and learn. All in all? I musta got about twelve or thirteen hapless hikers where they needed to be. And I ate like a king for six years.

Why only six? Throw another skull on the fire and I'll tell you... Thank you. See. One night, another guy came traipsing up the path. Another lost and weary traveler. Two in one day, would you believe it? But winter was coming. So a quick stock up in the event of being snowed in was necessary. Problem was I was outside having a smoke and I was still draining the latest one. If he saw that there'd be no mistake what I was up to.

So here comes a seven foot slab of man. Treating the cold around him like it wasn't much of an issue. One thin hoodie over a thin T-shirt and some overalls. I took to a short conversation with him as I sized him up. He had about a foot of height on me and he was built. Big country, cornfed son of a bitch.

"Who're you?" "Who are you?" "Why are you on my property?" "You can own property this close to a hiking trail?" So on and so on... And then I asked if he knew how to get back to the trail. It was getting dark, you see. I offered to help him back if He'd just let me nab my hiking boots. He agreed and I tried to circle around him. I figured he would still be looking at my front door. Waiting like a big old dog.

But when I exited the side, butcher knife in hand, he was holding a woodcutter's axe. Still looking at the door though. I could tell his tool wasn't mine. Crazy bastard must have had it strapped to his back... I took the chance and leapt at him from the side. He shook me off but the fight forced the door to my cabin open and he got a good look at the woman on the hook. I had left the TV on and was listening to it as I smoked, lit her up enough to see.

I'll remember until eternity, when else is there to remember to down here? But I'll remember until eternity what he said after I got to my feet. "Well... This is awkward," and I think it was a joke. I don't know. But I couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose it is."

But we looked at each other... And we kept sizing each other up. I knew my chances of surviving a face-to-face fight with a bigger man with more reach were minimal... If I recall correctly, he didn't want to fight. "We don't have to do this. I could help you butcher if you want..." But I tell you no lie when I tell you meeting a kindred spirit. One so forceful. One so... Comparatively Jovial. I was in love. And love makes us all do crazy things.

The next few minutes for both of us was a game of hack-and-seek. And we were both it. I don't know if he felt the same, but I think we were both having fun slinking around my house and yard. It was a hell of a way to spend my last hour or so on Earth.

But he caught me. I rounded just the wrong corner and he had me by the scruff of my neck. His weapon, unwieldy as it was with a single hand gave me just the time I needed. I stabbed him in the throat just in time to feel the axe crack though my rib cage and split my heart. I died on top of him... I remember trying to kiss him but I don't think I got close enough to his chin.

And now I feel it is another punishment for me. To never see my darling Francis again... I take some solice knowing he hasn't seen me, either... Maybe it means he felt the same. Who can say?

... Your presence in this realm is fading... Well, your arm is translucent, that's usually a dead give away, no pun intended... Just remember. Change your ways. Or you might end up with a good view of what's happening to everyone else while what happens to you, whatever it is, goes on and on. And on. And on. And on. And on.

After successfully leading your next target to your murder-shed in the woods, they pull out an axe from themself and proclaim "oh, this is awkward."

[rmadridcore]

Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word Count: 1K

Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.

Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.

He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.

“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.

He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.

He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.

Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.

Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.

Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.

He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.

Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.

By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.

He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.

He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.

You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.

He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.

He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?

He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.

He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.

“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.

Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.

Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.

He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”

You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.

He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.

Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”

When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.

He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.

If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.

Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.

He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.

If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”

When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”

Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.

Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.

He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”

Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.

In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.

[hoernypie]

Suguru's NNN

tags: established relationship, child mention, breastfeeding

How long he lasted: 16 days

"She's asleep," you said while walking into the living room, seeing Suguru sitting on the couch - exhausted after a long day. "Thank you," he said sighing softly "I couldn't make her fall asleep." You walked over to him, getting on your knees between his legs and resting your chin on the sofa, "She had a bad day in the daycare." He hummed while caressing your hair, "I know what you're trying to do but I told you that I'm not losing this year, ok?" You huffed while your hands undone his pants, sliding them down to reveal his huge erection. "Suguru, is me getting on my knees in front of you enough to get you that hard after two weeks? Besides, a little bit of me touching you won't be that bad, right?" you asked amused gently poking his hardness, looking at the wet strings of his pre-cum slowly running down.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you took in his obvious arousal. "Looks like someone missed their little wifey so much," you teased, stroking him lightly. Suguru's eyes closed, his hand gripping the sofa, "You know that I want to finish this year's No Nut November, so please stop." Despite his tone, his cock twitched under your touch, betraying his needs. You nodded, your voice in a soft teasing tone, "But I've missed you too, and our Peanut is finally asleep." With that, you leaned in and took the tip of his dick into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head and tasting the salty sweetness of his pre-cum. He groaned, his hips jerking slightly as you began to suck. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and he could feel his resolve slipping away as the sensation grew more intense with each passing moment. The room was filled with the sounds of wet, sloppy blowjob, and his deep, needy moans, filled the living room.

You felt his cock twitching in your mouth, the taste of his pre growing stronger as you teased the tip with your tongue. His grip on the sofa tightened, and you knew he was close to breaking. With a mischievous smile, you stopped just before he could cum, pulling back and leaving him panting and desperate for more. Standing up, you pulled up your nightgown, revealing your naked leaking pussy to him. Suguru's eyes widened as you straddled his lap, your wet pussy hovering over his throbbing erection. "You won't leave your lovely wifey in need, right?" you whispered, guiding him inside you. He groaned as you began to ride him, taking him deep and slow, your breasts bouncing with every movement. The feeling was amazing, and he could feel his self-control slipping away as you slid up and down, your wetness coating him. "I want to feel you cum inside me," you moaned, increasing your pace and grinding against him.

Suguru couldn't take it anymore; the sight of your wet pussy and the feel of your warm, tight embrace around his cock was too much. His eyes snapped open and he stared into yours. He reached up, cupping your breasts in his big hands, kneading them gently before bringing one to his mouth and latching on to your nipple. You gasped at the sudden sensation, your hips jolting against his. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud before he began to suck, drawing it into his mouth and tasting delicious milk that filled his mouth. The feeling was intoxicating, and you leaned back into him, giving him better access as you rode him faster. Your moans grew louder, echoing in the quiet room while you tried to keep them down.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured, his cock swelled even more inside you, the taste sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You leaned into his embrace, your chest heaving with each moan as you felt his enthusiasm. "You like it?" you whispered, your voice breathless with desire. He nodded as he continued to suckle, drawing more of the milk from your breast. The act only served to heighten the passion, making your movements more frantic and needy. As your orgasm approached, you felt the warmth spread from your core, up your spine.

With a final, desperate thrust, Suguru could feel himself reaching the edge. "I'm gonna cum," he panted out, his voice strained with pleasure. You nodded, your eyes locked with his, and whispered, "Do it, baby. Cum inside me. Fill me completely," and with those words, he lost it. He bucked his hips upward, filling you with his hot cum. You could feel him pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his release filling you up. You bit his shoulder keep from screaming out, your eyes tightly closed. As you both calmed down a little, you pulled back looking at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. "Looks like someone broke their No Nut November," you murmured, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you felt his cock softening inside of you. Suguru chuckled, his arms tight around your waist. "Guess so," he said, kissing the top of your head. "But it was worth it, missed this pretty pussy so much."

[lovemomhatepolice]

jj maybank nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

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BEFORE YOU START READING: THERE IS A SPOILER OF SEASON 4 AT THE BOTTOM, SO IF YOU WANT TO AVOID IT, DON'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Before JJ got involved with you, he was hardly the type to pay attention to aftercare. All the girls that came before were either only for one night or he didn't care enough about them to be concerned about what would come after their intercourse. It was the same for their part, so sex alone was enough. However, when he met you and your first intercourse occurred, JJ felt he had to do something more. Since then, he talks to you for a long time afterwards, you go to take a bath together to embrace each other after intercourse, and he is even more clingy than always

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Oh, JJ is a big fan of his body. He is well aware that he is damn handsome and has a well-sculpted body, so he often shows it off. And in you? JJ appreciates everything, really. He loves your hands, because he can grab them when he wants and intertwine his fingers with yours. He loves your lips, which he could kiss over and over again. He loves your thighs, which he keeps lying on and squeezing them. But you can't take away from the fact that he's pussy drunk. What the heck, but JJ loves your pussy the most and whenever he gets the chance, he's in it or by it. That's it

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Creampie!!! Has anyone heard this? CREAMPIE! JJ loves, adores, well normally he would give up everything just for the sight of you with your combined juices flowing out of your pussy

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) JJ doesn't have too many dirty secrets, maybe some kind of triangle? Or I don't know, an orgy? Just kidding. JJ is able to give up everything just for that, until you finally dominate him to the max like that. Mostly he is the one who dominates, but every night he dreams about it until you finally do it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Let's not lie to ourselves, JJ is a bit of an Outer Banks man whore, so his experience is quite high. The way he works his tongue, his fingers, let alone his cock, oh god. God of sex, there's no denying it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl. JJ loves your breasts and the fact that he has them in full glory in front of him in this position is downright addictive to him. He can touch them, suck them, kiss them. Likewise, he has great access to your face, which he loves to look at and see your face contorted in the pleasure you both give each other. Plus, I've already mentioned how much he dreams of you dominating him. And this position falls a bit under that, especially when he doesn't help you from below and you can lead you to orgasm alone

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) This is JJ, everyone knows his being clumsy in life. It's the same in bed. Many things amuse him and his mouth doesn't close during your intercourse. He was even amused by the way the spring in the couch at John B's house flew out when he just happened to be taking you from behind. Well, John B was not amused by that….

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) JJ has a lot of hair on his head and legs, so I think he's not completely shorn there either. But so that it's not sloppy and kept in order. As for you, I think he would also prefer it not to be thick there. Although too often it lands between your legs to worry about silly hair. As long as it's hygienic and the rest he doesn't care. And I even think that some patterning would excite him

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Yes, as I mentioned - since he is with you, he has seen that being romantic in life is not bad at all. And although he sometimes fails (he almost burned down the Chateau when he tried to make a romantic evening with candles), he still tries. He likes to chic you romantic baths, admittedly in the Jacuzzi, but you don't complain. Bubbles, cheap wine and JJ, who is all over you, is all you need.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Maybank is still an excitable teenager and often thinks with his dick, so he needs to shake off the feeling that still holds him down. Most of the time then he finds himself immediately around you so you can help him, but when you're really not there and you can't give him yourself, well, he's left to masturbate to your pictures, which he has in a special folder. Or the videos you amateurishly recorded one day for fun

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I don't know if you can call it kink, but JJ often likes to have sex with you in public. That is, it's not strange for him to suddenly have sex in the sea or do you good on the boat when you were originally supposed to go “fishing”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere, really. JJ has the “I can here and now” method, really, it's not even a joke anymore. If only you are ready, he is able to do anything just to get inside you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Just you. JJ sees you and already has a problem in his pants. Well, what can I say? He's totally pussy whipped and all it takes is one nod from you and he's already ready for action. Your presence in the same room already has him even begging so he can have sex with you or at least touch you a little bit

A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments) I will be terribly pleased if you reblogged it :) Of course, if you liked it! I want to create a larger Outer Banks community here, because for now I have reached a small number of this fandom

SPOILER: as you already know, season 4 left us in despair and grief after JJ's death. however, I am not going to stop writing about him. love you JJ, rest in peace sunshine :(

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[toxicanonymity]

Don't have to wait.

VAMPIRE JOEL x f!READER | 4k words | playlist

When his gaze drifted down to the clear water, his eyes couldn’t help but linger. “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. “Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You're feeling down, and when Joel comforts you with an act of service, things get steamy. Big thank you to everyone who loves him and keeps thinking of him. 🖤 you don't need to read/re-read the others to enjoy this one.

WARNINGS: 18+, softdarkish, captivity, big girthy age gap (joel >400/reader 20s-50s), angst at the very beginning, dark fluff, bath, body worship, sexual tension, nipplegasm, dry humping, oral f receiving, romantic / dirty talk, cum eating. 

After drying your tears, Joel held you in your bed as you dozed off for an afternoon nap. Awake while you dreamt, he kept picturing the defeated look on your face as you cried into the pillow. He was afraid to ask what was wrong—he couldn’t bear to hear it out loud. It was the way your life had changed. The way you didn’t have the same freedoms. It was a strange new world, whether he liked to think of it that way or not. He could only imagine what it felt like to you. It was going to get better, SO much better, better than you could imagine, but change was always difficult. He’d seen enough change in his life to know. 

Joel had to think of something to help. Taking you out and about would be the right thing, since he knew it was what you wanted, but he was so afraid to lose you. He’d get there—he’d take you out, but not quite yet. Meanwhile, there had to be something he could do to help. He gently let your head off his bicep, kissed you on the forehead, slid out of bed, and admired you. You looked like an angel. Not just when you slept—all the time. 

He needed to think, so he went to a thinking space. 

Joel rolled open the dark barnhouse doors to his huge bathroom. There was one window, and it was stained glass. The floor was coated concrete,  like the basement, but with prettier swirls in dark colors that glimmered and went well with the window.  There was a fireplace on the wall that was shared by his bedroom, and a freestanding claw-foot bathtub. Hugging the porcelain tub on one side, there was a little washbin with its own spigot, like a little sidecar to the tub. He used the sidecar to lather up a sponge for his own baths, which normally didn’t involve much water.

He sat down on a throne-looking velvet chair to the side of the fireplace, facing the tub. He put his journal down on a darkened teak table. Physically, he had energy, but mentally, he was spent.  He rested his head against the chair and crossed his arms loosely. He looked at his granite counter, and behind it, the wall. Where a mirror would normally be, there hung artwork with black frames in fancy shapes.  

Joel climbed in the dry tub fully clothed, sock-footed. He wrapped his cardigan tighter around himself, rested his head against the porcelain, and lay there in the empty tub. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, it hit him. He could draw you a bath. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a full bath in real life, but he’d seen plenty in movies. He could bring in some flowers, light some candles.  It was so comfortable there in that room. 

Baths are good. Relaxing. Romantic. He knew this. He knew a lot. Everything he watched, and a lot of things he read, were all about human culture and practices. It was impossible not to absorb the knowledge, he just wasn’t used to accessing it for practical purposes. But he was getting better at it. He had to give himself credit for that.

—

When you woke up, Joel was sitting on your bed, pensively reading his journal.  When he noticed you were awake, he took off his glasses and folded them into his v-neck.  “Morning, honey,” he whispered, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he reached over to the table on his side. He had ordered coffee and a croissant from your favorite cafe–the one where you met. You sat up, accepted the tray, and sipped your coffee. 

“You know, i’d really like to go back to that cafe,” you admitted, then tried to appeal to his way of thinking. “Wouldn’t you? Back to where we had our first date?” 

Joel smiled and his eyes sparkled. “Yeah.” He jotted it down in his journal. “But hey, today, I got a surprise for ya here. Gonna show you somewhere new.” 

“A new room?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You can change into this.” He left you a silk robe. 

—

—

With you by his side, Joel rolled open the massive doors to reveal the air of a gothic cathedral. Steam rose from the claw-foot tub. Candelabras flickered on the walls. The stained-glass window bathed the water in red. The fireplace was on, flowers were on nearly every surface, and the air smelled of patchouli. 

Joel asked if you wanted him to turn around while you got in, but you said it was okay. He took the silk robe off your shoulders and admired your beautiful back. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He held his hand out and you used it for balance as you dipped a toe into the water. “How is it?” he asked. 

“Perfect,” you answered, and he beamed. 

As you sunk into the water, Joel stood and watched, holding an old book with both hands.  He was so strange, but the strangest thing about him was how normal he seemed sometimes. Like a hot professor with a few screws loose. 

Settling into the water, you brought your knees to your chest. 

“Anything I can bring ya?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered. 

Joel hung up his cardigan on the wall, then dragged his throne-like chair in front of the fireplace and sat with his book in his lap. He was posted like a lifeguard, alert and pleased to see you enjoying the experience he set up. 

You looked at him, wondering if he wanted something. 

He assured you, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave ya.” He couldn’t risk you drowning on him. 

“Oh…” you replied. “Okay.” 

Joel nodded confidently, then remembered quietly to himself,  “Oh.” He took his glasses off the front of his softwash v-neck and put them on, then opened his book. “You won’t even notice I’m here,” he smiled. 

It was a really beautiful room. Warm and cozy, even with the high ceilings. A gorgeous chandelier. The tub was roomy, and the water felt perfect. You stretched out your legs and crossed your ankles. 

Joel kept looking up from his book to check on you, so you started to make conversation. “Is this your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you gushed. “What’s this do?” Your thumb brushed a crystal knob that was on its own, away from the other part of the faucet. 

“Oh,  you click it down and it waits 30 seconds then fills the tub,” he nodded. “Automatic shut-off” 

“Cool,” you replied.   

“Oh,” he remembered, “Forgot to show ya somethin’ else. Can I–” he pointed at the tub. 

“Sure,” you answered. 

Joel left his book on his chair, and knelt at the side of the tub. He reached down to the little sidecar and turned on the water spigot. He smiled and looked at you until the spigot stopped. “Just if you want,” he explained, and held up a sponge full of suds. 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied. 

He lingered by the tub. 

“If you want, I could even, uh,” he motioned with the sponge toward you. 

Your cheeks warmed…. hmmm. Why not? “Okay,” you agreed.

“Yeah? ”

“Sure.” 

With both knees on the floor, Joel looked at you with a little smile. Then his gaze drifted down to the clear water, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger.

 “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. 

“Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You sank down a little more in the water and smiled shyly. 

“Hey, careful,” he laughed and reached for your arm to not let you go further in. 

He scanned you head to toe again and added, “Most perfect sight I ever seen.” 

“Thanks,” you looked away. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“What?”

“M’not perfect,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah you are,” his face got serious. “Perfect for me,” he insisted, then mumbled to himself,  “s’why you’re here.” 

Afraid he was making you uncomfortable, he looked down at the sponge and said, “Okay,” shifting into his task.  

“K,” you echoed. 

“Can I touch you? ” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. In truth you wanted nothing more. 

—--

You tilted your head up to look at the ceiling, and Joel started at your neck. He brushed his bite marks with the pad of his thumb and it felt like an apology. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. 

He gently lathered your neck, then your shoulders. “Wow,” he marveled quietly at the way the suds ran down each curve of your form above the water. He lathered your chest with the sponge. You lifted your arms, putting your hands on the sides of the tub, and he got your underarms. He ran the sponge over your chest again and paused. He took the sponge away and whispered, “God damn,” watching the bubbles flow down between your breasts. 

Turned on by his worship of your body, you rubbed your lips together and looked at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Just gotta, uh,” He showed you the sponge with a nervous chuckle and dipped it into the water sidecar, getting water all over himself. 

He looked down at his wet shirt and you suggested, “You could take it off, if you want.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he read your face. 

You answered low and soft, “I don’t mind,” with a raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel took a deep breath and put the sponge back in the sidecar. “Okay,” he whispered. 

He reached over his back and took his shirt off. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, admiring his strong shoulders and the smattering of soft brown and gray hairs on his chest. He took off his glasses, folded them, and put them aside with his shirt. 

Joel bathed you in silence, lips parted, corners of his mouth glistening. He took his time, and his eyes roved your body. When he got to your inner thigh, you shuddered and got goosebumps everywhere. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, “Don’t stop.” 

He glanced at your face with a dark, hungry look, then his eyes settled on your peaked nipples. He tilted his head slightly, and wet his lips. He bit his tongue then slid it across the roof of his mouth and back before shaking himself out of the trance. 

He continued bathing you in silence. He looked so hot, biceps bulging with every movement. His strokes were sensual and hit your skin just right. Your back arched and your eyes closed. 

After finishing with the sponge, he put it back in the sidecar.He brought handfuls of warm water up to your neck and chest to wash away the suds.

He paused the rinsing and broke the silence. His voice was soft and deep:

 “Do you ever think about, uh...” He paused. “If ya might like to—i mean….if I could do anything for ya—not just about blood, I mean–” He took a deep breath. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I know that’s when we normally do stuff, but we-”

With your eyes still closed, you found his hand and put it on your breast. 

“don’t have to wait,” he whispered, completing his thought. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with your eyes still closed.  

He slowly began to massage your breast, and when he thumbed your hard nipple, you moaned, “mm.” 

“That feel good?” he whispered. 

You nodded and your brow furrowed.

He kept doing what he was doing, and without stopping, he made his way behind your back at the end of the tub. Then, slotting his hands under your arms, he pulled you up in the water a little. He cupped your breasts from behind, and circled his thumbs around your nipples, making you take a deep breath. 

He murmured, “I’d do anything for ya.” 

‘Mmm,” you moaned, and he continued the motions of his thumbs 

“Anything to make ya feel good… and safe”

He covered your breasts with his palms, cupping them, then lightly moved his palms in circles over your nipples.

“Joel,” you whispered, “Mmm,” your back arched. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded. 

He continued with his palms, then slotted both nipples between his spread fingers. 

You moaned, and he lightly dragged his open fingers down your breasts, slow and light, each digit going up and down as it crossed your nipple. He dragged his fingers up again, and then went back to using his palms.

“I’m–” you began. “--mm”

He could see you squirming under the water, pressing your thighs together,  “Shhh,” Joel reassured you. “I know, sugar.” 

He cupped your breasts again, and you reached a wet hand out of the bath and dangled it behind you, groping for his crotch. He pushed his hips forward, and the hard shape in his soft pants met your wet hand. He took a deep breath, and so did you, and he watched your body writhe under his soft touch, until you released the most beautiful moan that echoed through the room. 

“Yeahh,” he cooed into your hair, “that’s it, that’s good.” 

Your body spasmed again, and he wrapped his arms around you as you finished your peak. You leaned your head back against him. He kept one arm around your chest, and cradled your head with the other.With an open mouth, he kissed your cheek slow and soft. 

“Mm,” you sighed.

“How ‘bout we get you dry?” he asked. “Then i’ll warm ya back up.” 

—---

Once you were dry, he carried you to the bedroom and laid you down gently on the smooth sheets, admiring your nude body. The room was dim, and he was still shirtless. He kneeled onto the bed and cautiously moved toward you. His face hovered over yours, and you admired his eyes, lips, and neck. Then you met his eyes, his face drifted closer, and he pressed his lips into yours. You kissed him back, and his pants grazed your bare thigh. 

“Uh,” you shifted under him. “Your pants are kinda wet.”  He looked down at himself, then asked, “Should I…” And you reached for his waistband to help him unbutton.

After discarding his pants on the floor, he was left in boxer briefs and the thick outline in them made your breath hitch. He got between your legs, and brought his face back to yours. 

He kissed you softly, and when you kissed back with hunger, he matched your intensity. Moaning into your mouth, he cradled  your head with his left hand. You slipped him your tongue and he accepted it gratefully. After a minute of kissing, his lips left your mouth and his hand slid down your head to your neck. On the other side of your head, he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He pulled back and studied his bite marks on your flesh, and you reassured him, “it’s okay.” 

Holding your neck gently, his massive hand made you feel small and delicate. His lips lightly brushed the overlapping sets of circular wounds in different stages of bruising. Then his nose brushed your skin. He sniffed around your jugular, down to your collarbone, then back up. His tongue brushed your tender skin lightly, then he pressed a soft kiss into the crook of your neck. 

“You can do it,” you offered. “You can take some.”

“No,” he declined. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“You can, I like it,” you reminded him. 

“I know, I like it too, baby, but—doesn’t have to be every time, right? This is different…” 

“Sure,” you agreed with warmth rising to your cheeks. 

“Other ways I can make ya feel good,” he added. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Want ya to feel safe,” he whispered, then kissed your neck again. “Want ya to know I can control myself.” 

You bit your lip, then whispered, “I know you can.” 

Joel’s kisses trailed from the side of your neck down to the dip in the center of your collar bone, where he dipped his tongue, then dragged his lips down your sternum. He cupped one of your breasts and moaned into the other. He licked the nipple, circled it with his tongue, then sucked. He kissed the outer curve of your breast, and the top, and the bottom, before kissing your nipple again. He moved to your other breast and suckled at it, breath getting heavier through his nose. He looked up at you with sparkling  eyes and murmured, “Every inch of you tastes like a dream.” 

You fingered his hair and he nuzzled his head into your touch, briefly closing his eyes.  You pulled him toward you and kissed him again. He laid his chest against yours and it made your skin buzz. 

“You’re warm,” you marveled. 

“I guess it’s you,” he explained. “Only when we’re this close.” 

“It feels good,” you whispered.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s our skin together, sweetheart.” 

“Can I, um. Can I feel more of your skin?” you asked, and slid your toe up the side of his thigh to the edge of his boxer briefs. 

He paused and looked back and forth between your eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “Of course.” 

He shed his boxer briefs and gently held his cock against his happy trail, making his shaft press into the padding of his lower stomach. “I don’t wanna, uh.” 

“What?”

“Touch ya any way ya don’t want,” he answered. “Might not be what you’re used to, either.” He glanced down at himself. 

You reached toward his crotch and covered his hand with yours. “Can I feel?” you asked. 

He wet his lips and nodded, slipping his hand out from between your palm and his package. 

You palmed him and his cock was warm and stiff. It was commanding and uncut. Your palm gently nudged the smooth skin of his shaft, and he moaned with his eyes closed. 

“It’s so hard,” you gushed just above a whisper.

“That’s you,” he answered, “That’s your blood,” and those words seemed to heighten your lust and his. He gently held your neck again and kissed you on the lips like he needed you bad. You were still holding his stiff manhood, but wanted his body against yours. 

You broke away from his lips wih a moan and whispered, “I need your skin on mine.” 

You moved your hand, dropping his cock onto your mound, making you moan as you used both hands to cradle his head, then carded your fingers in his hair. His cock swelled against your clit and he subtly thrust against you. Your hips lifted to meet his rhythm and your chests heaved against each other. 

“You know how bad I wanna be inside you?” he asked. 

“Mmm,” you answered, “I can feel how bad.” He was throbbing hard against your front. 

“But we gotta trust each other first,” he said with a slow thrust against you. He closed his eyes and dipped his head so his cheek was touching yours. “God, I want it,” he whispered in your ear. “But I gotta earn your trust.” 

You lightly massaged his scalp with your fingertips and said, “I want it, too.” 

“Of course we do,” he said, and kissed you on the lips, long and soft, still slowly grinding on you. Then added, “We’re meant to satisfy each other.” 

He kissed you on the cheek, then the neck, and the forehead, slowly grinding his stiff cock against you, with the heat of his chest on yours. “The way we’ll fit together,” he panted, “like nothing we’ve ever felt.” He brushed your temple with his thumb and kissed you desperately, in rhythm with your bodies moving together. You moaned, and he added, “I’m tellin’ ya, sweetheart. ‘S’gonna be—ohh—celestial,” he breathed, and moaned again. He was leaking precum onto your tummy. “Whole other dimension,” he whispered, then kissed you again. “God damn,” he panted. “I gotta calm down,” he chuckled.

He pulled his hips back and his cock slid down, wet against your clit. He paused to let it rub against your cunt for just a moment before he pulled back more, and kissed his way down your stomach. He kissed the trail of his pre-cum, open-mouth, a sight that made you weak. The closer he got to your mound, he used his tongue more and more. Then he put your legs over his shoulders. 

He stared at your glistening cunt and whispered, “gorgeous,” then he nudged the bridge of his nose into your wetness as he sniffed up your folds. “God,” he whispered, then used his tongue, firmly licking up your cunt then circling your sensitive nub before giving it a long kiss. He licked into every hidden place of your warm, wet pussy and thrust his tongue into you. 

It wasn’t much different than when you had your period, except he started gentle before becoming voracious. He was soon insatiable, and tension was building in your gut. 

“Joel,” you sighed, and he kept going. “Oh, god,” you moaned, “Joel,” your legs curled, prompting him to look up at you with flickering eyes and a shiny face. 

“Sorry,” he exhaled. “It’s—it’s actually plasma,” he explained of your slick. So it was like blood to him in a way.  “God, it’s so good,” he gushed. He dove in for more, licking and sucking and drinking you down. 

When you were teetering right on the edge of bliss, you pleaded, “come back, c’mere,” and he obediently let your legs down. 

He prowled up your body and slid his cock through your folds before laying it hard against your mound. His warm chest and belly laid onto yours, and you groaned and your hips lifted upward. He slowly thrust against you and you began to cum, throbbing against his cock. 

He moaned your name and then, “oh, god,” and began to cum with his cock wedged between the two of you, gluing your bodies together. He sighed vocally, then his lips found yours again, and you kissed through your mutual climax. 

You broke away for air and gushed, “you feel so good,” wrapping your arms around him. 

He chuckled shyly and kissed your neck, then your cheek again, and your forehead. You looked each other in the eyes, and his irises still had a bit of that special shine. He kissed you, and stayed with his skin against yours, then asked, “you okay?” 

You nodded. 

“You okay if I clean up?” he asked, and you answered, “sure.” 

He apologized for the mess as he rolled over onto his back and his cum spread like glue between the two of you. 

You sniffed the air curiously, and he stopped to watch you. As the air of his semen and musk filled your nostrils, a soothing wave moved through your body. 

You asked, “can I, uh,” and dipped your finger into the mess on your tummy. He nodded enthusiastically and watched you bring your finger to your lips. 

You dipped your tongue and your tastebuds were transfixed. You quickly dipped your fingers down to your tummy, gathering as much of the spend as you could, and wrapped your lips around your fingers, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose as you tasted and swallowed it. 

“Good?” he asked

You just barely nodded with your fingers in your mouth and your eyes still shut.

Joel nodded, unsurprised. “‘cause it was made for you,” he said. You got up on your knees and he watched affectionately as you straddled his legs and brought your face to his lower abdomen. 

“Go ahead,” he started to say, but your tongue was already in his happy trail before he got the words out. You licked and slurped it up, and he chuckled, both at the sensation and your eagerness. 

Joel got a warm wet cloth and cleaned you up before cleaning himself and pulling his boxers back on. 

–

You laid together basking in the closeness of each other. You could feel your skin glowing, and his too.  He was face down with his arm over you, and you were really comfortable. 

After a while, he propped himself up to look at you and trailed his fingers down your sternum. 

 “I was, uh, gonna, go get the mail right about now,” he mentioned. “Overcast, just about sunset…” 

“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay.” You tried not to look too disappointed. 

“I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanna come?”

Your face lit up. “Really??”

“It’s just down the driveway,” he clarified. “Long driveway,” he added. 

“Yeah,” you nodded with bright eyes, and sat up. 

“Alright,”  he smiled, and kissed you. 

He went to your closet and brought you an outfit, then left while you used the restroom and got dressed. 

He returned with the leather cuffs, and you gladly handed him your wrist and let him link you together.

For the first time, you were standing right there as Joel opened the big, heavy front door. 

With your fingers interlaced with his, you stepped outside. 

—--

-----

-----

thank you so much for reading! i really value the affection you all express for him, and hope he's brought some comfort to you. Written with love <333

[planetpedri]

Hi... PEDRI WITH NUMBER 7 FROM THE ANGST PROMPT PLS...

Waiting room — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: Late night talks with your best friend was definitely your favorite time spent with him, but tonight it had only shattered you.

Word count: 1.17k+

Disclaimer/s: Based on the prompt ‘Have you ever loved someone before?’ so, basically all angst.

A/N: THANK YOU ANON.

The stars twinkled above you and Pedri. They lit up the dark sky, giving you a beautiful thing to look at so you could keep your eyes off him. The feint noise of cars passing by was the only thing to break the silence.

When Pedri could make time, he liked to visit your house. You lived at the edge of Barcelona, away from the busy streets. He couldn’t see the stars from his house, the city lights were too bright.

Pedri loved the stars. He’d once told you how they had gave him a different perspective on life, but he never told you the story. You didn’t mind though, you didn’t need him to.

Your mouth parts, ready to speak, but you find words hard to come by. Pedri rolls his head to the side, resting it against the blanket that you’d set out to avoid the itchy grass. He watches you quietly, expectantly.

“Have you ever loved someone before?”

The question caught him by surprise. His eyes widening just a little, “how do you mean?”

“Like, romantically, I guess.” You shrug, rolling your head to the side as well, meeting his eyes. “You never date. You never talk about girls to me, so I’m just curious.”

Pedri nods in understanding, his gaze drifting back up to the sky as he contemplates. The silence was enough for you to know his answer, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

Sure, you’d loved the man since the moment you met him. How could you not?

“No, I don’t think so. I came close once, but..” He trails off, looking back at you, right into your eyes. “It just wouldn’t work out.”

Your stomach ached. How could he look at you with his soft warm brown eyes, and give you such devastating news?

Humming, as if you could ever possibly understand, you divert your attention away from him. Your eyes trace the big dipper. “Why not? Did you ever give it a try?”

Pedri shakes his head, which you only caught from your peripheral vision. “No, I didn’t. I valued her too much.” Your heart felt like it was being squeezed and pulled.

“You deserve to be happy, i’m sure she valued you too.” And you meant it. If he was happy, even with another girl, you would’ve come to terms with it. You valued Pedri, more so than yourself.

You hadn’t noticed the way your voice had grown quiet toward the end, but Pedri did. He stared at your side profile, wishing he could read your mind—wishing you could read his.

“She does.” A beat of silence, “Have you? Y’know.. been in love?”

You chuckle, “yeah. Yeah, I have. Once.”

“With who?” He asks, Adam’s apple bobbing tightly in his throat.

Your head lulls to the side and you offer him a small smile. You. “It doesn’t matter who. It is beautiful though—loving someone.”

Pedri exhales through a small laugh. “Until it’s not reciprocated.”

“Well, I dunno. I think just knowing you are capable of feeling it, of feeling so much for someone, I think it can be beautiful in it’s own sense.” You hum before continuing, “like.. we as humans, are capable of feeling so strongly for someone even when it isn’t reciprocated. You don’t need to be loved, to love.”

The man felt his heart swell at your words. You had a way of finding words for things that he would’ve never understood if they weren’t coming from you.

“I hope you experience a requited love someday. You deserve it.” Pedri’s pinkie finger grazes over yours, sending a wave of warmth to your chest.

He didn’t know it, but when you looked back to the sky and saw a shooting star, you had wished he would love you one day. To experience requited love from him, was the only thing you’d ever wanted.

You didn’t know it, but while you looked back at the stars, he was looking at you, wishing so badly you would give him a sign.

A sign that maybe, you loved him back.

The thought got pushed to the back of his mind the second it inched forward, because Pedri knew for as long as you were friends, he could never allow it. He valued you too much as a friend to ever take that step. So, he looked back to the night sky, and sighed.

Nothing would ever come of the two of you. You waited for him for years, yet nothing moved forward. Eventually, he had gotten a girlfriend. She was lovely, kind, everything Pedri could ever need, but she wasn’t you. He looked for you in everything related to her. The way she dressed, the way she smelled, the things she liked.

The two of you drifted apart after that. You told yourself he was happy, that he had found love. That was all you needed to know, so you let him go.

He broke up with her a month later.

Years had passed, you’d gotten engaged. Thinking you finally moved on! You were dead wrong. The first time you saw Pedri after nearly three years, was in the middle of a shopping mall.

He seen you in a store across from where he stood, eyes widening. He called out your name, and when you turned, forcing a welcoming smile, he walked over.

“It’s been so—“ His words cut short, the glint of a diamond flashing in his peripheral. “Oh! Uh, you’re married?”

Your happy facade dropped into a deer in headlights look. “Uhm, engaged! Actually. Just engaged.” You ramble, not sure why you felt the need to explain yourself. He hadn’t reached out to you either?

“That’s..” He exhaled, “wow. That’s amazing. Congrats.”

His voice lacked any real enthusiasm and you only felt guiltier. “Yeah, yeah. It’s great.. his name is Jack. I was going to send you an invite! I just haven’t gotten them in the mail yet.” A complete and total lie. You had sent out invites last month, but Pedri didn’t need to know that.

He watched as your nose scrunched and his heart suddenly felt cold. That was your tell. Whenever you lied, your nose scrunched. He used to love it. He used to tap your nose every time you’d do it, telling you, ‘Cariño, you can’t lie to me, you’re too obvious.’

Swallowing hard, Pedri looks off to the side. “Well, I should go. I have a busy few months with football, so.. I probably can’t make it. Best of wishes though.” Before he could escape, he had to say one last thing.

“I’m happy you got the requited love we talked about. You deserve it.”

Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd of shoppers, leaving you with a dull, hollow feeling encapsulating your once nearly full heart.

You called the engagement off a month later.

You couldn’t love anyone if it wasn’t him, and that was very clear now. Even after all these years, nobody was ever Pedri—nobody could ever be him.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pedri posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @joaoflms @sakashq @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to !

[thelov3lybookworm]

Cat claws

Day 2: Scarred.

Summary: Maybe he can forgive Nuts.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1177

Warnings: cat being mean to hazel :(

A/n: azzie just loses his mind in tis lmao nd you cant blame him hazel's the most adorable little thing ever 🥹 yall just wait till she begins talking azs going to sob his eyes out (subtle foreshadowing 🎀)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel watched, amused, as Hazel attempted to crawl towards the black furry creature that sat in the corner licking its paw.

Hazel had only started crawling a week or so ago, and Azriel absolutely loved watching her drag herself around. It was often amusing to see her get angry when the carpet slowed down her movements when it caught on her clothes, or when she bumped into the couch and glared at it.

She would always turn to search for Azriel when that happened, letting out the loudest yell her tiny body could muster as if ordering him to get rid of the offending item.

Even barely eight months old, Y/n always said Hazel had her father’s ability to glare and grumble.

Azriel always scoffed in return to that statement before forcing himself to stop and realise him being grumpy only proved his mate’s words to be true.

Hazel was currently looking at her father with her brows furrowed, and Azriel blinked, coming back to the present as he realised she was trying to move over the carpet. He grinned at the anger on her face and stood, bending down once he was close enough to pick her up.

He set her down closer to the cat Y/n had insisted on getting after Hazel’s birth, her reasoning being that their daughter needed a friend and then named him Nuts.

Hazel and her best friend Nuts.

‘Get it? Hazel-Nuts’ She had giggled.

It made Azriel laugh back when she had suggested it, but soon enough he’d realised she was not joking. At all.

Azriel watched on with a smile as Hazel reached Nuts and tried to grab his fur. Nuts walked away without a look in her direction, which always pissed Azriel off. Who did the creature think it was?

"Azriel, that’s a cat. He does not understand how to act with a baby-" Y/n called out from the kitchen, having peeked into the living room to see what had caused her mate to get so mad that his emotions reached her through the bond.

"Well how long does it take to learn? I swear to the mother one day I'm kicking him out if he continues to bully my daughter."

Azriel heard Y/n sigh and walk closer to him as Hazel crawled towards Nut again. He now sat closer to the hearth, where a fire burned red to ward off the winter chill that was beginning to set over Velaris.

"Az-"

But Azriel did not hear the rest of Y/n’s sentence.

His ears began ringing as he stepped forward as if in a daze, eyes sharp on the raised paw of Nuts, who, having seen Hazel get close to him again, tried to hit her.

The firelight glinted off his claws.

And then Hazel’s loud cries filled the room as her head reared back, eyes clenched shut in pain.

She had a habit of flopping on her back when she was mad. Azriel had never really worried too much about that particular habit of Hazel’s until now, when she was too close to the fire and the tiniest movement would end up with her-

No, Azriel did not want to complete the thought.

In that moment of panic, Azriel did not care that there was a glass covering separating the fire from the room, and that no matter what Hazel did, she would not be able to be burned.

In that moment all that mattered to Azriel was that the fucking cat living in his house had the audacity to hurt his daughter.

Azriel grabbed Hazel, frantically looking over her to check for her injuries. There weren’t any big claw marks, but the tiny scratch on the chubby flesh of her upper arm connecting it to her shoulder made Azriel see red.

He turned to glare at Y/n as he pulled Haze close.

"I am telling you Y/n. If by the time I return, that bastard is not out of this house, I will drop him into the sidra myself."

Y/n’s eyes were helpless, but Azriel did not wait for a moment longer as he walked out of the main door and took flight, his only mission to find Madja and get his daughter healed.

He did not want her to be scarred like the hands cradling her.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Flying back home, Azriel decided that he needed some time alone to figure out why he had reacted so harshly.

He knew Y/n had been right. Nuts was an animal. He did not understand how to treat babies. But Azriel did not want to admit that.

The stars were out, so clearly visible as Azriel flew his daughter back home. It had been over an hour since he’d left the house in such a hurry, wishing he could strangle the cat.

He had taken to the skies after Madja had assured him that Hazel would be fine, and had his emotions not been so high and panicked, maybe Hazel wouldn’t have cried at all. After long moments of being assured by Madja, Azrie finally calmed down and left.

"I’m sorry baby. Did I scare you?" Azriel mumbled, glancing down at his daughter who stared up at the sky with wide eyes. She only giggled back in answer.

The innocence in the sound made Azriel smile.

The smile faded just as quick as it had come when his eyes fell on his hands cradling her head and back.

They once were soft and smooth like Hazel’s. They once had grabbed his own parents hand with as much love as he now grasped his daughters. Only now, they were uglier.

If Y/n heard his thoughts, she would have yelled at him and forced him to say they were beautiful. But Azriel knew better. They weren’t, and they never would be.

The only thing he liked even a little about his hands was the fact that their texture was so different from other’s hands, Hazel always immediately figured out she was in her father’s arms.

Y/n always talked about how the same scarred hands he despised were the reason she and Hazel felt safe. Those words echoed back to Azriel when he began doubting himself. It always made him feel better.

Hazel squealed loudly when Azriel dipped lower, air pushing gently against her back.

She was so pure, so innocent. She did not even know of the cruel world she was born in.

And Azriel swore to keep it that way. He had hoped the world outside his father’s dungeon would be better, once, and quickly realised that there were people in the world that would pounce at the chance to scar innocent souls just for the sadistic pleasure of ruining their lives.

He did not want her soul to turn out as scarred as his too.

As he finally landed on the front porch of his home and heard loud meow’s coming from inside, he contemplated letting the cat stay.

Maybe a cat’s claw scratch was not that bad.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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