#just a useless but fact that i wanted to share to you all :)

[nemesyaaa]

kxksiwskkkiwss'zkwkzkskskskidizz oh my fucking god ??? angelita ??? are you fucking serious ?? like do you want me to shot myself right now ?? this was so fucking delicious, brilliant, perfect and hot like wtf. i died a a lot while readin this. i love the fact they're all sharing different kinks. and lmfaooo it's freaky kinky times. this was so good to read, so fucking yummy. i dont have words because you took them away with your creative mind but also all the smut you write for it. foaming at the mouth currently because i'm nothing but a dog right now 😙 you just give me what i needed

IM JUST SHARING SOME BC....NEED TO REACT A LITTLE

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock. — CNC ??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME ???🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️‼️

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh. — ELABORE ON SCOUT BOY RAFE ??? BUT I TOTALLT AGREE. YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT AND I NEED MORE ON THE ROPE PLAY + BONDAGE

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously. — SOMEONE TAKE ME BACK TO LIFE 😙😙😙

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.” — FUCKING PERFECT 🥹🥹🥹💖

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum. — MY FAVS. 10/10. ‼️👄

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least. — I'M NOT OKAY, I'M NOT OKAY

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly. — XKKDKZ READER CHOKING RAFE ?????????? 🤤🤤🤤🤤✨

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace. — YES. YES YES

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT TOO 👁️👄👁️

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..” — WKKDKZZ CUMSLUT SQUAD ‼️‼️‼️

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!��� you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap. — where is my big boy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I NEED you

FUCKING MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME <33 ILYSM

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[bravenewwor1d]

Useless but fun fact about FE Engage's localization

This is a bit from the game's localization that no one seems to be talking about, so I'll be sharing it today

In the original Japanese version of Fire Emblem Engage, one of Fogado's listed dislikes is swimming. However, in the English version, they changed his dislike for swimming with a dislike for fishing. It is unknown as to why this change was made.

If you play the English version of FE Engage, then there's only one piece of evidence left that points to Fogado disliking swimming, and that is when you assign him to do an activity in the swimming pool.

This is because he is the only person who doesn't swim when he's at the swimming pool.

[widevibratobitch]

something about being told im 'the leading person at this whole academy when it comes to interpretation and stage intelligence' by the husband of the woman im trying (not really. but i mean. who knows) to seduce... ok boy you got me. lets make it a polycule.

[loonylupinblack3]

Ex Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: swearing, sort of attempted murder, slight spoilers for s4

Summary: you're spending the day at the beach when your ex boyfriend appears with his Kook friends.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: no turtles were harmed in this! also first ever rafe fic but im literally obsessed with him rn so.....

The waves were perfect, giant curls of water crashing down, creating a spray of sea salt hosing down anyone in its vicinity. The sun was shining, your deck chairs all set out, and you were ready for a day of surfing, sun baking, and hanging out with your friends.

“Those are some sick waves!” JJ whooped, kicking the sand in celebration.

You laughed along with him, unpacking the final board from the top of Twinkie and handing it to Kie. Dusting your hands you turned to survey the beach with an appraising look, eyes scanning the waves and the shine the sun casted on them.

You went back to the Twinkie and helped John B carry out the ice box, grunting slightly at the effort and receiving a teasing glance from the boy across from you. “Too heavy for you?”

You scoffed. “As if. I was the one who lugged the wood from Poguelandia for a mile when the truck broke down, remember?”

John B gave a tilt of his head. “Touche.”

The both of you planted the box by the chairs and opened it up, as many drinks as you could fit packed in among the ice inside. JJ snatched the first one and you chucked him the beer opener, a satisfying click accompanying the action as he opened the bottle.

Hand in the box to get one yourself, you paused when you heard the telltale growl of vehicles heading your way. You stood up, squinting into the distance as you spotted a line of cars driving towards you.

“You’re joking.” To your dismay you recognised the shiny, expensive cars as those belonging to the Kooks that shared this island with you. You scowled along with the rest of your group, eyeing the cars with barely disguised contempt.

“Keep going,” JJ muttered under his breath, eyes fixed to the line of vehicles as they passed you by.

Some attempted a pitiful chance at civilness, giving half hearted waves and strained smiles. Others saw the uselessness of it and kept their gazes ahead, pretending as if you didn’t exist. The worst were the ones who gave you the backlashing smiles and devil eyes, each glance a dig at you and your friends.

“Anywhere but here,” Kiara murmured from beside you.

You couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment, willing the cars to continue by without stopping. You wanted to enjoy the day, and you found the idea hard to do if there were a bunch of Kooks next to you.

You watched the cars intently, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment and frustration as you noticed them slowing down, rolling to a stop about 30 metres to your left.

“Oh you're joking,” Kie said. “Of course they stop here.”

You tried to smother the anger rising up inside you as you watched them start exiting their cars. “Why wouldn't they? When there's an entire beach.”

“We were here first,” Sarah pointed out, as if it’d help us. It didn’t matter if we were first or not. The Kooks got what they wanted regardless of what Pogues were in the way. You were all too familiar with that fact of life.

JJ shook his head and kicked the sand again, except there was anger in the action rather than excitement. “It's a waste of waves, if you're asking me.”

“Don’t let them ruin the day for us,” you advised. “It’s just what they want.”

John B let out a sigh but continued unpacking, and you felt relief in your chest. The last thing you needed was a fight to break out between the Pogues and the Kooks. You could be civil to one another. Hopefully.

It wasn’t long until you were all ready for the day ahead, the Twinkie empty and sitting to the side. You’d just sat down in your chair, drink in hand, when your gaze had strayed to the Kooks, wanting to keep an eye on them.

You hadn’t wanted to see Rafe there, settling down on a beach chair similar to your own, sunglasses covering his face. Even so, you could tell when he noticed you staring, the slight stiffening of his shoulders, his mouth curling into a small scowl.

You knew your own face was mirroring his expression and quickly looked away lest your emotions get the better of you.

“Great,” Sarah said, also noticing Rafe. “My brother’s here.”

All eyes were immediately on you and you resisted the urge to glower at them. Your friends were well aware of the relationship you’d once had with Rafe, a strange sort of understanding you’d shared that no one else could make sense of. They also remembered how it ended, with Rafe on the airstrip, demanding you not go on the plane to South America. You could still hear his ultimatum ringing in your head, ‘if you get on that plane, we’re done.’

You didn’t regret your decision. You’d choose the exact same if you had the chance. Your friends needed help. You’d never turn your back on them. It was just a shame that Rafe perceived that as you turning your back on him.

In summary, you were both harbouring hard feelings for one another, and seeing him there today did nothing to help your mood.

You cleared your throat, fingers clasped tightly around the drink in your hand. “Let’s just ignore them, yeah?”

If any of your friends noticed the tightness of your smile they didn’t comment on it, eager to go along with your suggestion and not allow the Kooks to ruin your day. That was until you noticed Topper heading your way and John B walking to meet him.

You let out a sigh, sharing a look with Sarah. None of you wanted a fight to break out, but you were all well aware of how much boys let testosterone lead instead of their head, these two boys in particular.

You were watching the rather tense conversation between them, too far to actually hear anything, when your gaze slid to Rafe. A hot flush went through you when you noticed he was already watching you.

You held his gaze, his eyes eating up the distance between you before devouring you yourself. Even from here you could spot the familiar hunger in his eyes, and you tried to tell yourself you didn’t enjoy it, clinging to the words even when your stomach flipped when he still didn’t look away.

“Y/n?”

Tearing your gaze away first felt like losing somehow, but you couldn’t keep blatantly staring at him after your friends called for your attention. So, with a strange feeling of defeat coating your mouth, you turned to Kiara, the girl watching you with an indecipherable expression.

You managed a smile. “Yeah?”

The girl hesitated, mouth slightly open as she thought over her words. Eventually she gave you a half smile, a knowing look in her eyes. “You gonna make that drink you learned in Chile?”

You grinned. After El Dorado you’d taken a month to travel abroad, spending some of your share of the small fortune you’d all managed to pull together. The other’s had been supportive of your wanting to leave. Even if they had never liked Rafe, they all understood what it was to lose the person you loved, and they shared your belief that some time away would help heal your wounded heart.

And it had helped. You’d forgotten all about him on your trip (mostly) and hadn’t thought about him (much) after you got back. 

“Sure will,” you said, “but be warned. This drink is strong. Not for the weak.”

Kie grinned back at the idea of a challenge, just as John B walked back to you, glowering but fully intact. 

To cheer everyone up, you decided making your drink would be a good idea, give them a challenge. All your friends liked a challenge. Plus, you wanted to see JJ chug a whole glass and regret it. The guy was good with alcohol but even he wouldn’t see this coming.

You hummed a tune under your breath as you prepared the drinks, singing along to the music blasting through the Kooks’ speakers. Even from here it was loud enough to hear the words and you quietly sang along as your friends relaxed around you.

“Alrighty,” you spoke, a tray of drinks in your hand. “Everyone take one, take one, there you go.”

When the tray was empty except for one last glass you took it and raised it in the air. “Ready? One, Two, Three!”

You didn’t even bother to take a sip, watching intently as JJ chugged the whole drink just as you expected. And just like you expected he became a spluttering mess, choking and coughing, making a whole big deal.

Loud enough to garner attention from the Kooks too. When John B followed JJ’s footsteps, apparently deciding JJ couldn’t handle it but he could, and also following in JJ’s footsteps of deeply regretting it, your whole group was laughing and cheering.

It was enough for the Kooks to take a peek.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Topper asked, walking over.

You looked past and found a trail of sorts of Kooks making their way to you, and with a jolt you realised Rafe was one of them. He wasn’t actually going to come over, was he? Yet he didn’t stop his procession and suddenly was standing right next to Topper and you had to fight to keep your eyes from straying to him.

“Trying out some drinks,” you said, because the rest of your friends had suddenly become mute. “I learnt a pretty good recipe when I was in Chile and-”

“You were in Chile?”

You stopped at Rafe’s words, the velvety lilt of his voice all too familiar. You finally let yourself look at him, finding him staring at you intently, a small frown plastered on his face. 

“Um, yeah,” you said. “I went for a bit of travelling.”

Rafe looked like he wanted to ask something else but held his tongue, gesturing for you to continue what you’d been saying previously. Hesitantly, because part of you was uneasy with Rafe standing right there, and the other part slightly nervous with all the Kooks’ attention on you – because they’d all come over now – you continued your story. You detailed where you’d discovered it, who taught you how to make it, and most importantly, the utter strength and devastation of the drink.

By now the Kooks were getting exciting, slapping each other on the chest and making bets of who could take it. They’d all seen JJ and John B’s display and wanted to try it out for themselves.

“You mind making a few extra for us to try?” Topper asked.

You hesitated. You'd always gotten along with Topper, and had spent more time with him than the other Pogues had – excluding Sarah, of course – because of his relationship with Rafe. Of course your view on him was different now, after the incident with him burning John B’s house down, but you weren’t as opposed to him as your other friends were.

As if also remembering the friendship you’d once shared, Topper gave you a smile, and you didn’t really see the point in denying them, especially if you wanted to keep the peace between the two tribes.

“Sure,” you said, with a smile only slightly strained. “I’ll start making another batch now.”

There were cheers from the group as you turned back to your preparation table, going through the motions of making the drink all over again. JJ appeared at your side. “You don’t gotta do this you know. We can tell em’ to get lost and that will be that.”

You were already shaking your head. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. And if it keeps them from ruining our day all the better.”

JJ gave you a long look, eyes narrowed. He glanced at Rafe, milling about with some of the Kooks who’d stayed while the others went to grab more chairs. Apparently they were moving over here for the time being.

“And it’s got nothing to do with your ex boyfriend being here?”

You scowled at JJ. It was an unspoken rule that none of the Pogues mentioned Rafe or your relationship with him. They all saw how hard the break up hit you. JJ just loved breaking rules though. “No, it doesn’t. You should know as well as I do that pissing off Kooks does no one any good.”

JJ sighed, likely because you were right. “Yeah, but it’s so fun though.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you shooed him away from your work, focusing on re-making your drink. You had just enough supplies for a second batch – lucky, because you wouldn’t want to find out what the Kooks would do if you went back on your offer now – and managed to whip it up in less than 10 minutes.

“Alrighty, everybody take one – there should be some left over if anyone wants a second try – and brace yourselves.”

You found your heart was pounding as you passed the tray around the group of Kooks, getting closer and closer to Rafe before you found yourself standing face to face with him. He took the glass, eyes solely on you as he nodded and you passed him by, giving the rest of the Kooks their drinks.

You frowned to yourself as you placed the tray back on the table, only a couple drinks left, and picked up your own. What did that nod mean? Was it a polite nod, just to be civil, or had it meant something else? Had he been trying to tell you something with it?

You mulled it over in your head as the others drank, barely paying attention to their outbursts. They were even worse than JJ and John B though, you managed to pick up that, and the thought made you smile slightly.

To your surprise, after your drinks had been finished or forgotten by the Kooks, they stayed around. Sure, their chairs were further from yours – it wasn’t like you were all sitting in a circle around a campfire or anything – but they were close enough that if you wanted you could have a conversation with them without yelling. Maybe they were planning on having another drink of yours, or maybe they were just too lazy to move back to their original spot. Either way, it put you on edge, and you noticed it did the same to your friends too. Maybe giving them drinks hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

One of the guys – Kelce, if you remembered correctly – whistled, and it was only when he did it a second time did you realise he was whistling at you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Get me another drink of yours,” he called out, resting comfortably in his chair.

You scoffed. “I’m not your maid.”

Kelce pretended to ponder your words. “Aren’t you though? I mean you’re a Pogue so-”

“Get the damn drink yourself if you want it Kelce,” Rafe snapped viciously, his body taught as he glared at his friend.

Immediately Kelce backed off, muttering under his breath, but he didn’t finish his sentence. He also didn’t grab another drink, so maybe he didn’t want it that bad. The tension between the two tribes rose after that, but you barely noticed it, eyes trained on Rafe.

He refused to so much as look at you. He’d just defended you in front of all his friends, and he won’t even look at you. You were pissed. Logically thinking, this shouldn’t have made you all that mad, but he was so confusing. He broke up with you and now he was defending your honour and speaking back to his own friends for you. What did it mean?

Eventually the Kooks started leaving, travelling back to their own domain, dragging their chairs behind them. You were relieved, but also disappointed. You were so wrapped up in everything Rafe; you didn’t want it to just end.

Except it was already over, you reminded yourself as you grabbed your board, intending to do a little surfing. Your friends followed your lead and headed out to the ocean to catch some waves. Even Sarah came, catching some of the smaller ones and cheering in celebration when she managed to ride it.

You were catching your own waves too, grinning at the exhilarating feeling of flying over the water, having the waves chase behind you. You could hear your own friends cheering, only elevating your mood, and you didn’t even remember you were sharing the beach with Kooks until you were waiting for the next wave, a rare lull coming over the water, and had them floating nearby.

You noticed Topper among them just as he did you and you gave him a hesitant smile. Topper returned it and moved over to you, taking his Kook friends with him. Your own muttered unpleasant words but didn’t outright tell them not to come over, so you found yourself floating on your board side by side with Topper.

“Been a while,” he commented, glancing at you.

You looked at the water lapping against your thighs that were spread across your board. You nodded your head. “Yeah, it has.”

He hesitated, glancing at your friends behind you. “How are you doing, with… everything?”

Everything being Rafe.

You shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to give the man next to you anything, lest it find its way to Rafe. “I’m good.”

Not exactly a lie. But was it the truth?

“It's getting big out there, huh?” JJ called, gesturing to the rising waves.

Topper nodded his head good-naturedly. “Sure is.”

“See that one?” JJ asked, pointing to the oncoming wave. It was an impressive one, slowly building to a height that beat all the others before it, promising a giant impact when it eventually crashed in on itself.

Topper let out a whoop and JJ grinned at him, though it wasn’t his normal type of grin. There was a maliciousness to it, one that made you uneasy looking at it. 

“Is that you?” JJ asked.

Topper looked at him, noticing his grin. He didn’t know him well enough to realise it meant he had ill intentions, nodding with a similar smile. “Yeah baby that’s all me.”

You floated closer to JJ, giving him a stern look. “JJ…”

He gave you innocent eyes, blinking at you. “What? Just being friendly.”

You scoffed, because you highly doubted it, but you’d learnt there was no stopping JJ when he was planning something. Still, you hoped it didn’t end with violence between the Kooks and the Pogues, like it always seemed to.

Topper readied himself for the wave, drifting closer, a tighter grip on his board. It was only when you noticed JJ doing the same thing did you realise his plan.

“JJ no-”

You were too late, the boy sailing on his board and cutting Topper off right at the last minute. There were shouts of dismay from the Kooks and you were tempted to join them. JJ could be so rash sometimes.

There were more disgruntled noises as Topper disappeared from view, appearing moments later sopping wet with a scowl on his face. Realising the civilness between the Pogues and Kooks was effectively over, you swam back to shore, dragging your board over the sand and dropping it rougher than needed on the ground.

It was time to leave. You didn’t want to be there to watch the eventual fight between the Kooks and the Pogues that was bound to happen. After what JJ did you were surprised they didn’t try to drown him in the ocean. 

Kiara was thinking along the same lines, helping you pack up the boards on the roof of the Twinkie before folding all the chairs. By the time the others came back from the ocean you were nearly finished, your spot looking unusually bare.

“Woah, what we doing?” JJ asked. “The sun is still out.”

You resisted the urge to snap at him. You knew it was just who he was, but sometimes, when JJ’s lack of thought affected all of you instead of just him, it was difficult to keep calm with him.

“We’d rather not be here when the Kooks go crazy,” Kiaria said shortly, somewhat forcefully taking JJ’s board from him.

JJ made a sound of displeasure, looking around at your friends. When he looked at you all you could do was shrug because Kie was right. It was better to be gone before they decided on revenge.

You were all finally ready to go when you spotted something strange in the sand. It seemed to be moving, as if there was something under it. You stepped closer and let out a gasp as a tiny sea turtle fought its way through the sand, its head peeking out into the world.

“It’s a hatch!” you called. “Kie! Quickly!”

The girl raced over to you and let out an excited shriek, looking at the turtles with awe. Your other friends surrounded them, watching as they slowly made the treacherous journey to ocean water.

“Look at these little nuggets,” John B said, kneeling down to get a better look at them.

Kiaria took a step back. “Wait, wait, back up, give them some space. You can’t touch them.”

You all followed her warning, taking a few steps back. You couldn’t bear to go too far back though, because the sight before you was so special you wanted to drink in every single aspect.

“We’ve gotta make a path right?” you asked, glancing at your friends.

John B nodded, following your train of thought. “Yeah, we need to make it safe. Get these footprints off.”

Kie started calling out orders that we all followed diligently, telling Sarah to look for seagulls and other predators while the rest of you tried to smooth out the sand for the turtles to crawl over.

“We should make like a highway,” John B mused.

You nodded. “A turtle highway.”

“A turtle highway!” Sarah cheered. “Come on kids.”

John B was in front of them, leading the way to the sea. “Come on, follow your human daddy straight to the ocean-ocean.”

JJ frowned. “Why do you get to be the dad?”

John B gave him a look, about to answer when you all heard the sound of the Kooks’ cars. You turned around and recognised Topper’s jeep heading towards you. You were surprised when you noticed Topper in the passenger seat, a girl that must have been his girlfriend in the driver’s seat.

Kie stepped forward, cupping her hands around her mouth as she called, “Hey! Hey stop! There's a hatch!”

The car drove determinedly towards you though, either ignoring or not hearing Kiara’s yelling. The rest of you joined in, waving your arms, shouting at the oncoming vehicle about the hatch right behind you.

“Let’s just get out of the way,” John B said.

Kiara scoffed. “No I don’t think so.”

So the screaming continued, as they got closer and closer to the hatch. At the last minute you all ducked to the side and the jeep drove past, barely missing you but thankfully leaving a wide enough berth for the turtles.

You thought it was over, letting a relieved breath loose, when the car turned around.

“No, no no, no.” 

The screaming continued. You planted yourself right in front of the hatch, a barrier, and refused to budge. Topper’s girlfriend noticed your savage stare, the tense set of your shoulders and seemed to choose you as her victim, heading right for you. For the hatch.

Your voice was hoarse from your screaming. How could they not hear you? You were certain the Kooks behind you could, and though the car’s engine was loud surely it wasn’t that loud. With all your voices put together surely they could hear something. Maybe they just didn’t care.

You stood still as the car came closer and closer. She’d stop. She’d have to. She couldn’t kill you. Your resolve was fracturing slightly, however, as the car proceeded forward with no signs of stopping or swerving. By now your own friends were yelling at you to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The car was right there in front of you, so close you could see the horror on Topper’s face and the sneer on his girlfriend’s, and then suddenly you were being pushed aside, a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around you.

You hit the sand with a thud, feeling your bones ache as the impact hit you. Still, the arms around you stayed there, and it took you a moment to realise why they were so familiar. Because they belonged to Rafe.

The man was breathing deeply next to you, catching his breath as his grip never faltered.

“Let me go Rafe,” you said through gritted teeth.

The man scoffed, ignoring your plea as you both got upright. His arms were now firmly around your waist. “Why, so you can try to get yourself killed again?”

You scowled. “I wasn’t trying to get myself killed-”

“Really? Because you standing there doing nothing while a car headed right for you seemed like getting yourself killed.”

You spun around in his grip, face to face with him. You hadn’t been this close to him since before you broke up. From here you could see the specks of brown decorating the blue of his eyes, the eyes you’d loved so much. Still loved, if you were being honest.

“There was a hatch,” you hissed. “I was trying to protect it.”

“And that’s worth your life?” Rafe asked incredulously. He was staring at you so intently, eyes glued to your face as his hands slightly moved up and down your back, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You can’t do things like that Y/n.”

You felt the familiar anger rise up inside me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Rafe looked taken aback and angry at your words. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

Rafe let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He still didn’t let you go; if anything he held on tighter. “Are you serious right now? I just saved your life.”

You rolled your eyes. “They would have stopped-”

“Oh my god, Y/n, no they wouldn’t have. When are you gonna realise that? Huh? Not everyone is gonna take care of you out there like me,” Rafe accused, getting into that hot headed way of his.

You scoffed incredulously, pushing yourself away from him. His grip tightened for a second before reluctantly letting you go, though he did not look at all happy about it. “Take care of me? As in dumping me on an airstrip?”

“Because you left me!” Rafe burst out, looking harried. “What, I’m supposed to stay with you after you blatantly choose them over me? Do you just not value me as your boyfriend?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him. “I didn’t choose you over them! They needed me.”

“I needed you,” Rafe hissed. “I needed you and you left me.”

You opened your mouth but paused. Rafe was being unusually vulnerable with you, even if it was disguised by anger, and you started to wonder if maybe he was missing you just as much as you missed him.

“I didn’t mean to,” you said quietly. You saw Rafe’s eyes soften slightly at the change in your tone, and suddenly everything disappeared but the two of you. There were no Kooks, no Pogues, no tension between them. It was just you two, standing on the beach, the unknown of your relationship hanging above your heads. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He was struggling to find something to say, half of him wanting to snap and tear you down, while the other physically recoiled against the idea of hurting you in any way. Eventually he sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. “Why’d you have to fucking leave?”

“Why’d you have to make me choose?”

You both stayed silent after that, staring at each other. It was obvious you craved each other, missed the other's presence. But could you look past what had already happened between you? Were you able to look past the mountain of problems and pain you’d caused each other?

You desperately wanted to say yes, but you were scared he wouldn’t do the same. Still, you had to try, right?

You took a deep breath, fear making your throat clogged. “Rafe, I miss y-”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were crashing against your own, his hand already tangled in your hair, cupping your head. You melted into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck, desperate to be closer. After all these months apart the distance between you felt enormous, and you wanted it gone. Rafe seemed to think the same, forcefully tugging you to him, eliminating the space. 

He kissed your mouth like a man starved, lips harsh and bruising against your own. You felt heat enveloping your body, goosebumps rising with every swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Pleasure you hadn’t felt in so long was filling your mind, his lips satisfying a craving you’d spent so long trying to ignore.

When air became a factor and you pulled away for a breath he only let you go so far, having your forehead rest against his own. Being this close to him, this familiar, was making your heart ache with longing.

His hands wrapped around your waist and stayed there, now freely wandering up and down your back. He kissed your jaw, your throat, collarbone, anywhere he could as you caught your breath, like he just couldn’t bear not to be kissing you.

“Rafe,” you murmured. When he didn’t answer you said his name again, and a grunt escaped his mouth in acknowledgement, still kissing your throat. “I need to go.”

This made him stop kissing you, and he pulled back to look at you with an angry attitude. “What?”

You gestured behind him, where your friends were waiting by the Twinkie. They’d finished keeping the turtles safe as they went into the ocean, and judging by the calm if irritated air around them, none of the turtles got injured from Topper and his girlfriend’s semantics.

“They’re waiting for me.”

Rafe made a sound of displeasure, pulling you even closer, if that was possible. “You can stay with me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I can?”

Rafe discerned the second meaning behind your question almost immediately. You could stay with him, for more than just today? As his partner, as you’d once been?

The man let out a breathy laugh, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Of course baby. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[plurapony]

"omg you're a system!!! it just be so fun to have friends in your head!!!"

Yeah. They are my friends but you know what's really not fucking fun? Seeing how intelligent an alter is and how much they want to pursue their dream career but they can't because we share a body. Seeing how creative and talented alters are but we can't spend hours and hours drawing because we share a body and the body has to work. Seeing that an alter really wants to do something and we just don't have time, they say it's okay but we share a body and I know how they really feel.

Yeah I have friends in my head and I'm constantly letting them down because the things we all want aren't physically possible. Yeah that's really fun.

okay making an edit because this was months ago:

i was not mourning the fact someone can't do a career. this post was about feeling like a useless shitty fucking host that for some unknown reason needs to be the host of this system of genuinely incredible parts.

and yes, this is the least of my issues. there is so much fucking shit I go through bc of this disorder i don't talk about. but this is the internet and my blog. im allowed to vent.

(also this post originally was made at a time where part separation was hard/before we started did therapy. we didn't know much about our system back then)

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[supercutszns]

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

[enkvyu]

9:45am — gojo satoru ;

gojo’s giving you one of those looks again, the type of look that is typically followed by nothing good. there seems to be almost no thoughts behind his sleepy eyes as he blatantly stares at you from across the table, and you subconsciously shift at the attention.

though you were drowsy too—checking your watch you realise it was only 9:45am—his gaze wakes you up.

you shove your chopstick in your mouth and around your food, you say, “well? spit it out.”

assuming you didn’t mean the rice in his mouth, gojo swallows and clears his throat. “i know something that might surprise you.”

“oh, okay. what is it?”

“here's the thing though, i can’t tell you.”

you stare at him. “why did you bring it up then?”

“you told me to spit it out.”

“well, that was useless.”

you direct your interest to the sushi in front of you and put a piece of sashimi in your mouth. a few silent seconds pass and gojo is still looking at you, and still very obviously holding something back.

eventually, your curiosity overflows. "gojo, just tell me what it is."

"i just told you i can't."

"why not? is it really bad? is it something serious? who is it about?"

gojo hums in thought. "it's about you. and it's about me."

you raise an eyebrow at his statement. "what the fuck? you have to tell me now."

gojo picks up the last piece of sushi from the plate you were sharing, and pops it in his mouth without another thought. you bristle at the sight. "what kind of person would tell the person the thing is about, the thing? also i'm taking the last piece of sushi."

"what are you on about? also you can't say you're taking the last piece after you've already eaten it! you didn't even give me the chance to scissors-paper-rock it!"

"my bad, i'll make up for it and pay for the food this time around. and i'm not telling you the thing no matter how much you beg me."

"gojo, you can't fool me i know for a fact you didn't bring your wallet today. so like always, it'll be on me. by the way, i'm not begging. i'm demanding you tell me."

"demand all you like, i'm not telling you anything." gojo sneers. "the sushi's already in my mouth, there's nothing you can do about it anymore."

you slam your hand on the table and level him with a stare. "spit it out!"

"i'm not telling you the thing! how many times do i have to say that?"

"i meant the sushi." when you don't laugh after, he realises you're serious. "i was eyeing that piece the entire time. don't you know you have to leave the best bite until the end so you can finish your meal perfectly. that was supposed to be my perfect bite!"

gojo looks at you and swallows. he reaches over for his drink and after a long sip, sighs happily. "well, it's already gone." he says with a shit-eating grin.

you swear passionately at him and he raises an eyebrow.

"did you want it that bad? if you want, i can still give you a taste."

you scrunch your nose at him. "that sounds absolutely disgusting."

"what? how?"

"you offered to regurgitate the sushi?"

he makes a face similar to yours. "no, i meant like, a kiss."

"oh." your grimace deepens.

"good oh or bad oh?"

"what do you think, oh."

he studies your face. "bad oh."

"correct." you take a sip from your drink and sigh, albeit a little unhappily. "i can't believe you dragged me here at nine in the morning just to steal my perfect bite of sushi."

"it's just sushi." gojo says. he looks over at you from above the frames of his glasses, noting the slight pout on your lips and the adorable furrow between your brows. without thinking, he clears his throat. "but because i like you, i'll order you another roll if you want."

you freeze. "what?"

"i'll replace your perfect bite."

"no, the part before that."

gojo smiles but there's something jittery about it. he fusses over his glasses and makes every move to avoid your eye. "that was the thing i wasn't supposed to tell you. i like you. but i guess you really are as demanding as you say since i told you anyway."

"oh." you say.

"was that a good oh, or a bad oh?"

"it's a 'i'm trying to think' oh." and then, after a pause. "oh."

he inhales sharply. "a double oh, that doesn't sound good."

you blink at him in the uncomfortable silence.

looking down, you observe the slides you had roughly put on before heading out at gojo's request to get sushi first thing in the morning. you look at the large shirt you had on, something gojo had left behind in your dorm after a sleepover, and the pyjama pants that you weren't even sure were yours. you look at him again, and he's in a similar outfit to yours. "you're telling me this now?"

"that's why i told you i couldn't tell you! why did you make me say it?"

"you're saying this like i knew what you would say!"

"you kept telling me to spit it out, spit it out, well i did and i still can't win."

"well you, well i actually, well," you clap your hands together. "actually i do like you too gojo, so—"

"you do?"

the two of you stare at each other.

you breathe out. "yeah."

"okay." gojo nods. "okay, that's good to know."

you fidget with your chopsticks, twirling it between your fingers. "what now?"

"i didn't think this far."

"oh."

"i'm going to," gojo clears his throat when it cracks. "i'm going to order more sushi. that's what you wanted, right?"

you look at him. "yeah."

when he leaves, you stare at the wall in front of you.

"so like, did you guys forget we're also here?"

shoko sips at her milkshake, blatantly staring. at least getou has the tact to pretend to be on his phone. still, it’s impossible to hide his interest and his eyes flicker over to you. “i’m never going to agree to another ‘let’s go get food’ again.”

you open your mouth to say something and shoko patiently waits. unfortunately, the right words do not come to you and you use the opportunity to bring your straw to your mouth and take a sip from your drink instead.

"isn't there something you should be saying to us?" shoko presses, gesturing over to the counter where gojo was ordering.

you glance over too and spot gojo looking over his shoulder at you. something sparks between the two of you and you tear your eyes away to look at shoko and getou again.

"yeah." you say. "we're getting more sushi."

not proofread, i just started typing w the dialogue “spit it out” and this came about

[hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard]

Okay time for the PBS Kids essay

Read it under the cut!

:readmore:

In 1968, before there was PBS Kids proper, there was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. While it came several decades before the children’s block, it laid the foundation for the themes and values present in every facet of the network’s history.

Mr. Roger famously hated children’s programming at the time. To him, it all was droll and useless. But he didn’t dissuade the medium entirely— he saw potential. Potential that led to a few smaller television jobs, and eventually the creation of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.

Rogers didn’t invent educational TV for children, but he did perfect it. He poured real heart and soul into probably the most sincere, heartfelt program in history.

Honestly, he could have his own essay. The more things you learn about the real man of Mr. Rogers, the more you’ll like him.

Anyway, the biggest thing that makes PBS different is the fact that it earns money through grants, fundraisers, and private donors— not through sponsorships and merchandise sales. This way, PBS Kids can push programming that it feels is important, rather than programming that merely sells well.

This also means PBS is less afraid of pushing social boundaries. Money doesn’t go away when their shows become subjects of debate— and Mr. Rogers took full advantage of this.

For context, this was 1969. The Jim Crow era had just barely, barely ended. Pool segregation was still very much legal.

Mr. Rogers sharing a pool and a towel with the Black Mr. Clemmons was a pretty big deal at the time— especially on a show made for children.

Rogers was far from the untouchable sacred cow of today. When he was alive, he had a large number of detractors. Let’s just say that scene didn’t fly nicely by everyone.

Just one year after the debut of Mr. Roger’s came Sesame Street.

While Mr. Roger’s was made for all children, Sesame Street had the explicit goal of supplementing the education of underserved communities— especially inner-city Black (and later Latino) children.

While it was made to be accessible to children of all races and income levels, they definitely went the extra mile to make it something special for inner-city Black and Brown kids. (Why do you think it it’s “Sesame Street” and not “Sesame Cul-de-Sac”?)

At the time, a wholesome, sweet show set in a brownstone street was practically unheard of.

Jon Stone, the casting director, deliberately sought to make the cast as rich with color as he possibly could, bringing on a huge amount of Black talent such as Loretta Long, Matt Robinson, and Kevin Clash, as well as featuring Black celebrities as guest stars. Later, the show would expand its horizons, bringing on actors from Latino, Asian, Native American, and many more backgrounds.

White actors were and still are a minority on show.

In addition to letters and numbers, the purpose of Sesame Street is clear: make kids of color know that they’re smart, beautiful, and loved.

It doesn’t get more explicit than this.

I want to point out this comment because it’s funny

You’re telling me this bitch isn’t Hispanic???

Anyway, these two were followed up by Reading Rainbow in 1983. And guess what?

That’s right. Non-white focus.

These three shows, (along with other, lesser-known programs like Lamb-Chops Play Along, Newton’s Apple, and Shining Times Station (who featured Ringo Starr himself?? seriously how did that happen and why does no one talk about it) and some other nostalgic favorites like Bill Nye the Science guy, The Magic Schoolbus, Arthur, and Thomas the Tank Engine) aired on the new PTV block, which evolved into PBS Kids in 1999, bringing along Between the Lions, Dragon Tales, and many more.

Arthur is another stand-out that I’d like to talk about— it doesn’t have the same racial focus of Sesame Street, but it does focus on different income levels. The characters have various housing situations, from apartments to mansions to no home at all.

It also takes cues from Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s in regards to talking about tough topics, though as Arthur has a slightly older target audience, it discusses things through stories rather than talking directly to the audience.

Cancer, religion, workplace discrimination, along with current (at the time) events such as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina are all discussed on the show.

Another big focus on Arthur is disability. For once, they don’t stick a character in a wheelchair and then pretend he’s not in a wheelchair. A striking number of major characters either develop or get diagnosed with physical disabilities and/or neurodivergences, such as asthma, severe food allergies, and dyslexia, and they deal with them in very realistic ways.

A handful of minor characters have more obvious disabilities, and THANK GOD they go beyond the trite messaging of “disabled people can do everything abled people can do! everyone clap now!”

One episode in particular has the awesome message of “holy shit stop trying to help me all the time— it’s patronizing as fuck. I can get around just fine without you stepping on eggshells and trying to be the hero all the fucking time”

There are sooo many other shows I could talk about, but I can’t write about them all. I’m definitely gonna point out some more standout ones, though.

Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat

Created by Chinese-American woman Amy Tang

Dragonfly TV

Features a multitude of female and non-white scientists to foster an interest in science with kids in those groups

Maya & Miguel

One of the network’s first Hispanic-led shows

SciGirls

I shouldn’t have to explain what the goal of this one was.

Molly of Denali

When was the last time you saw a show that treated Native Americans as people? Much less a children’s show? 90% of the cast is Athabascan, and the show revolves around Athabascan culture, not shying away from topics like boarding schools and modern-day racism. Most of the writers are also Athabascan, and the show even has an official Gwich’in dub!

It’s this commitment to real, authentic social justice that makes PBS Kids so much different from its competitors. Could you imagine the Paw Patrol dog looking at the camera and earnestly discussing what happened to George Floyd? I don’t think so— but Arthur talked specifically about it, Sesame Street did an hour long special about race in general, and the network itself made a 30 minute special.

Disney Jr. could never. (Other than trying to teach colorblindness, of course.)

I’m gonna have to cut this into two parts, since I just hit the image limit

[witchthewriter]

Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust

Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...

Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.

This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')

Da = Johnny

Papa = John P.

Dad= Simon

Daddy = Kyle

School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.

Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).

Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.

And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.

None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.

Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.

Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"

"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.

Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"

After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.

Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.

With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.

The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.

When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.

"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.

You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.

"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.

Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.

"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.

All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.

"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.

"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.

"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.

"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.

"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.

"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.

"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.

"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.

"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.

"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"

The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.

Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.

"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."

"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)

Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.

"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.

"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.

It was always hard to hang up.

It hurt.

But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.

'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.

"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.

"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."

"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.

You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.

"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."

[bbokicidal]

"Where Did I..." | Corruptive!SKZ [H.H.]

If you've read any of my other works (on my previous account) you would know that I have a knack for (and often write) corruption kink!skz lol. So this delved into that a little, because the theme of 'dumb bimbo gf' tends to go along w/ that. if you want it rewritten more specifically, lmk. ALSO - i labeled the title as a 'bimbo gf' because just saying 'dumb gf' feels a little rude i dunno lol.

warnings : NSFW CONTENT (MDNI), corruption kink! hyunjin during the NSFW headcanons, MEANDOM!Hyun, and I'm talking fucking mean. Like calling you dumb to your face mean.

Hyunjin w/ A Bimbo!GF

BF!Hyunjin who cherishes you so so much and absolutely will help you with anything you need or ask him for. He'll do your laundry if you aren't sure which button to push, will cut up veggies for soup if you don't know how to, will hand you your phone even when it's right in your back pocket.

BF!Hyunjin who thinks that it's sooooo fucking cute every time you forget something. He'll tip his head and let his hair fall in his face as he watches you fumble with your phone, forgetting how to turn on Do Not Disturb.

BF!Hyunjin who adores the way you get pouty when you forget where you put your favorite dress. He'll watch you get mumbly and all cute about it before offering to just buy you a new one - find one online and he'll go to the store to get it just for you.

BF!Hyunjin who thinks it's SO fucking cute when you walk in a room and pause, eyes glossy and lips popped apart because you can't remember why you walked in there in the first place. He'll stare with a giggly smile as you walk out, then back in, and eventually sit down with a pout as you try to remember.

BF!Hyunjin who ties your shoes for you after watching you knot your laces two different times. He'll just straight up tie them - he won't teach you how to because he thinks it's just so cute watching you forget and fumble. He wants to tie your shoes for you forever.

BF!Hyunjin who has to do the grocery shopping because you can never remember where a single thing is in the store, even if the aisles are labeled. You just go along as his pretty little arm candy.

BF!Hyunjin who doesn't let you carry cash because you count twenties like they're tens and he's not going to let you embarrass yourself in some fancy store - Just take his Black card.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who thinks your 'stupidity' adds to your sexiness in bed. He is obsessed with the way you so willingly submit yourself to him because you don't know any different and you're just too dumb to figure out how to top him.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who presses his thumb into your lower lip to pry your mouth open, murmuring about how cute you are on your knees and how you should just stay his pretty dumb bitch forever.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who hums out shit like, "Open your mouth for me. Just like that. Now sit pretty and let me fuck your throat since you can't suck me off right." And, "You're just my dumb little whore, huh? Don't know any different; Useless unless you're acting as my personal cocksleeve."

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you he's so happy you're his girlfriend - and how he knows you'd never cheat on him because you're too dumb to go out and find anyone else.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who pumps you full of his cum and then blatantly lies to you, telling you there's no chance you'll get pregnant because of some dumb reason he makes up in his head. He takes EVERY precaution afterwards to clean you up however and make sure you actually won't get pregnant, but he's going to let you believe that his cum can't get you pregnant so he can keep filling you up.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you it's totally normal for guys to share their girls with his friends just so he can have threesomes with you and the others - He knows for a fact Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin love how dumb you are, too. And you just look so pretty all confused and whimpery with their cocks stuffing all your holes.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who makes the effort afterwards during aftercare to assure you that he absolutely does love you, and that he doesn't really mean all of those harsh words he said to you during sex. He adores you the way you are and outside of the bedroom he really wants you to know that his love runs so deeply for you. He'll curl up from behind and wrap an arm over your waist after cleaning up, press kisses to your shoulder and hold you as tight as possible as he whispers about how one day he'll marry you and keep you safe from the word. And those mean cashiers who can count right.

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : harry potter boys x keeper!reader

↳ harry, ron, draco, neville, fred, george, remus, and sirius with a partner who can wield ancient magic (hogwarts legacy style).

↳ requests are open! submit ideas, drabbles, headcanons, or one shots to the link in my bio! don’t be shy <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

harry potter:

-thinks it is the coolest shit ever! when you're in a fight together and you protect him by shooting a powerful blue bolt towards the enemy that disintegrates their very beginning, he feels so proud to be your partner!

-on the other side, he also knows it feels like to have a lot of pressure and power on your side. he worries about what it must feel like to wield ancient magic and be the only living person who can see it. every time you use it, he checks on you after, ensuring that you don't feel too exhausted and can continue fighting.

-supported you so much through the trials. he didn't need to know every detail of what you did and went through but he would hold you so tight when you came back, praising you over and over for being so strong and brave.

ron weasley:

-he's a little jealous, ngl. like his partner can use this sick magic and is responsible for keeping the magic safe and alive out of the wrong hands?? why can't he do that???

-i also feel like ron would be confused, if not a little angry, that you refuse to share the power and attempt what others have before (such as isidora using the magic to remove pain). he doesn't really understand the problem and feels like the keepers are suspicious.

-he'd brag about you alllllll the time though! like oh my god every second he would find some way to bring up the fact that you can do really awesome things and that you are his awesome partner forever!

draco malfoy:

-draco loves you a lot and finds your magic incredibly cool, don't get me wrong, but i think his family swayed his pursuit of you because wouldn't it be so grand if the malfoys had a keeper in their family? someone so powerful and knowledgeable? who would pass down the truth and their magic? yes please! (every time narcissa brings it up, it irks draco but also he pats himself on the shoulder for choosing you)

-wants to know every detail about the trials and the past and the memories you're viewing! you'll come back from a trial, sweaty and tired, maybe bleeding, and he'd help you first then ask hundreds of questions after.

-your use of ancient magic is not necessarily unknown and makes you quite popular among the students of hogwarts. this, however, makes draco really jealous. if he could, he would follow you everywhere, glaring down anyone who tries to make a move on you. before you go on adventures, classes, or just to the common room, he'll drape you in his slytherin scarf as if he was marking you.

neville longbottom:

-poor thing gets so nervous when you have to complete the trials or do something incredibly important for the sake of keeping the magic safe. he knows he can't go along with you but he'd stay by your side until the very moment you enter the map chamber, whispering praises and support the whole time.

-would heal up all your wounds and take care of you if you exerted too much during a fight. he knows how much everyone depends on you and the least he can do is take care of you properly! he would run you a bath, apply soothing balms to your skin or use his plants to heal you up, and cuddle you tightly!

-tries his hardest to not feel useless but sometimes it's hard when you're so strong and he's so...not. of course you'll always reassure him and give him the confidence he needs but very frequently, he gets really down on himself about it.

fred weasley:

-every day he comes to you with a new scheme that involves your magic. could you make a portal that leads from the dungeons of hogwarts to the top of the astronomy tower? it's important. snape is gonna get really mad when he goes into his office? can your magic fix that?

-begs, and i mean BEGS, you to let him come along on your adventures and battles. he wants nothing more than to support you and fight along your side! as long it's not a trial, you can't help but let him come along. you usually end up saving him after he pays a little more attention to the way your whip around the battle, taking down everyone effortlessly.

-speaking of paying too much attention to you, he thinks it is so attractive than you can do what you do! he gives you some time after fighting to recuperate but then immediately he is ON you. he's kissing you and telling you how hot it is when you turn someone to just particles.

george weasley:

-he wants you to teach him everything you can. there are some things that are just simply innate and can not be taught but all your tips and tricks when it comes to fighting will now be all of his tips and tricks. you two would just find some field away from the burrow and go at it, sending spell after spell at each other. georgie is just overflowing with adrenaline and it's a great way to get it out.

-deep down, a part of him wants to be protective of you. he wants to keep you from going out into danger and taking on dangerous tasks all for magic and some old people telling you what to do. but he knows better, trust me. he knows you can defend yourself just fine but he just wants to put you in a little bubble and never let anything hurt you.

-just like ron, he will brag about you whenever he can. everyone is sitting around the great hall table, talking about how it's so cool that you defeated a troll in one fell swoop and he just wraps his arm around your shoulders, a glimmer in his eye as he proceeds to say "yeah, aren't they just so amazing?"

remus lupin:

-fears for your health and safety so much! when you come back from a trial, he's hushing you and putting you in bed, feeding you chocolate and brewing tea until you feel better!! you are bearing the weight of centuries old magic all alone. the least he can do is take care of you!

-supports your decisions throughout your entire journey as a keeper. if you truly believe that releasing ancient magic to the world and using it for more than the original keepers intended, then he understands. if you want to continue to keep it hidden, he will not question your judgement.

-this is so fluffy but i feel like you figured out how to manipulate your ancient magic to floating, bright blue scenes and pictures. around remus's time of the month (said lovingly), you'll lay in bed with him and use your wand to paint pictures of animals, lakes, waves, stars, or, in more sappy moments, your future.

sirius black:

-he thinks it is SO hot that you can take someone down without barely blinking an eye. his favorite move you do is when you lift someone into the air and slam them down repeatedly. gets blushy and turned on excited every time.

-once followed you down into the map chamber only to be very harshly yelled at by one of the keeper's portraits. he just wanted to see what it looked like and to know where you go on dangerous missions!! who can blame him, truly? definitely grumbled the whole rest of the day.

-when you two get married, he refuses to let you take his last name and instead will either take yours or say screw it and come up with one! he doesn't want his family to have the gratification of having a keeper with the black family name. he wants you to shine for who you are and in another century, he wants your name to be yours, not his.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hey, I actually started watching HOTD just some days ago (thanks to tumblr constantly throwing fics at me with very promising summaries and gifs of very pretty men until I couldn't resist any more) and now I keep rereading everything you write about Aegon because it's just so good and just everything I need.

Could I maybe request some more about Aegon crying during sex, maybe he tries to hide it but he can't keep it quite so his wive notices anyways. I'm currently just really addicted to the idea of holding him and telling him he's doing fine

And thank you so much for everything you've written ❤️

Absolutely we can discuss all of this!!! I am always glad to welcome another into the crybaby!aegon agenda. I intended for this to be fully soft and smutty and well... there's a fair amount of angst too I am sorry in in advance but I promise it ends well!! Also this got so far away from me oh my god I thought I was writing a quick blurb and it turned into one of the longest pieces I've ever written.

Soft NSFW sub!aegon below the cut :))

So obviously as we all know, Aegon is not exactly a virgin. You knew this going into your marriage with him, hell just about every person in the entire seven kingdoms knew this. You were fine with it, well, as fine as you can be. You weren't expecting a marriage of love, or even of companionship. You knew you'd have to give him a few heirs, and then after that you doubted you'd even see much of him. That was fine, you wanted to be queen and you are queen. You can withstand a bit of Aegon's infidelity for that title.

What you don't expect, however, is how utterly shocked and taken with you your new husband seems to be the moment you show him any amount of human decency? It's like he expected you to actively try to kill him and the fact that you actually greet him in the mornings and ask him how his day went during dinner means he must now follow you around like some sort of sad puppy?

Meanwhile for Aegon, he was also certain he'd just make some heirs and then barely see you. I think his belief would mostly be because of Allicent actually? All Allicent ever told him from the moment he came of age was how much of a disappointment he was and how she would need to find a way to ensure that he doesn't completely fuck up the entire of the seven kingdoms. And when she tells him that she's found him a wife, he immediately knows she would have chosen someone who was with her agenda and would have already convinced the person that he would be useless.

But, nevertheless, he decided he would do his duty.

What he did not expect, however, was how... cordial you were with him? And not only that, you seemed to actually try to be nice to him?? He really doesn't know what to do with himself when he comes into your shared quarters after dinner to perform his required duties and instead of just rolling over and telling him to be done with it, you actually start by talking to him? And... and asking about his day??

And then when he answers, you respond? And you lament with him about how ridiculous and uptight most of the people in the castle are? He's so shocked that you even want to converse with him at all.

He doesn't even end up trying for an heir. He just... has an hour long conversation with you that ends with him nearly falling asleep against your shoulder and then when he realises the position he's in, he quickly bids you goodnight and leaves to his quarters.

It goes like that for a little while, except now you seem to be seeing Aegon everywhere? It's like he's actually trying to run into you as much as possible so that he can ask what you've been doing and have even the smallest conversation with you.

It reaches a point where you actually start to see his eyes light up every time he sees you, and well, you have no fucking idea what to do with that because your husband hasn't tried for an heir since your wedding night and has instead been scrambling for any ounce of your attention.

You consider going to Allicent about it, because she's starting to ask questions about whether you've bled for the month yet or not to figure out if you have an heir for them, but then you decided it against it because honest Aegon just looks so happy? You know if you speak to Allicent then she will set Aegon straight and it'll go back to how it was the first night. You don't want that. You don't want to see the weight back on Aegon's shoulders.

I actually think that as you get closer, and Aegon starts to realise he might have a real genuine confidant, he gets more and more nervous about actually having sex with you?

Aegon thinks he knows all there is to know about sex, and he's certainly has enough women in his bed to understand the mechanics if nothing else, but he doesnt want that with you. The women in the brothels he's been with... sure it felt good but deep down he knew it was fake and they knew it too. They'd put on a show for him, do whatever they thought would make him happy and while yes it most certainly did make him happy, it also made him... empty? Yeah, empty.

As he gets to know you and enjoy being with you, his heart starts to ache at the thought of you going into that mode that all the others seemed to where they just let him get his business over with and then promptly left the room. He knows that's what you're supposed to do, but he can't quite bring himself to do it because fuck he just, he really likes you and he's not sure where to go with this.

He's never had anyone actually make him feel safe before? And yeah you're extremely attractive but you also listen to him complain and make him laugh and genuinely care about him and he's just very lost.

He goes back to the brothel then, because he thinks he needs to just sleep with another woman and remind himself how good that feels and then he'll be able to bring himself to go do what he's supposed to do with you.

You don't know this of course.

Well, you don't know until about 2 hours after Aegon left for the brothel when he comes barging into your private chambers with tears in his eyes and promptly begs for forgiveness.

You obviously haven't a clue what's going on, but you pull him into a hug anyway and ask him what this is about.

Through many whines and sobs he eventually manages to explain that he went to a brothel, tried to fuck a whore and... couldnt? You try to get him to explain what he could mean by that and he kinda just buries his head in his hands and sobs even harder.

So at this point you've fully given up trying to figure out what's going on and you just pull him against your chest and press soft kisses into his hair. He melts against you, his body going slack as he nuzzles his nose against the exposed skin at your gown's neckline.

Once he's calmed down, he still doesn't move, but he does manage to whisper what happened.

He went to a brothel intent on fucking a whore to get himself back into the swing of things and then the following day to actually fulfil his duties as husband. Except, the moment the brothel worker kissed him he felt terrible and pushed her off. They brought in more women, and he couldnt do it. He... he felt like he was betraying you.

Eventually you just pull away to make him look at you and ask him, "What do you want? Genuinely, what do you want?"

He's silent for a moment, then he surges forward and kisses you. It's the first time you've kissed him since your wedding night, and this time it's like he's melting into your arms.

You kiss him back, and you have to tug at his hair to make him stop so you can breathe and repeat the question. He tries to kiss you again, but you tighten your grip on his hair to prevent him. The whine he lets out at being denied is fucking sinful, but you won't give in until he's actually told you want he wants.

"Wanna... wanna be good for you," he says eventually, "I don't want to be how I was before, I don't want all that emptiness I just... how do I be good?"

This time, you're the one that starts the kiss and he lets you just manhandle him so easily. He's so pliant under you, whining and whimpering and looking insanely gorgeous as he tries to touch you.

You ride him, and fuck the way tears just run down his eyes as he thanks you and grips your hips is life changing. He's so good like this, all worked up and squirmy and so so turned on. But he doesn't act, not at all. You started this, and he's not going to do a thing, he wants to your plaything, nothing more.

He turns his head to the side as you start to ride him properly, trying to hide how tears are just streaming down his cheeks but you take his chin in your hand and turn him to face you. You stop riding him for a second to wipe the tears away.

"You're so good," you promise him, "couldnt even get yourself off anymore, huh?" He whines and nods and cries, because you get it, you get it.

"I'll take care of you then," you say, smirking when he actually groans in relief, "but," you carry on, "then you're mine, yeah? Only mine, no more brothels or whores or servants."

And fuck if that isnt the easiest promise he's ever made.

(Just a quick sidenote to end off this novel: We should discuss himbo!aegon with his queen who does absolutely everything. Yes he's technically the king but in practice his only job is to look pretty and listen to wife and he is truly living his absolute best life)

[kotoku]

the touden party with an innkeeper! reader

synopsis - The Touden party was not an unfamiliar name to you due to the gossip other parties shared amongst themselves about the siblings and their oddball group. However, you thought the gossip was a bit over dramatic, finding them to be quite the pleasant guests whenever they visited your inn. 

Overtime, you got sucked into their stories from the dungeon floors and even heard how they prepped monster food. Although they weren’t the most normal party you have ever seen, you grew a tight bond with each party member.

pairings - laios x reader / chilchuck x reader / marcille x reader / senshi & reader / izutsumi & reader

warnings - characters may be ooc..

“You guys were able to eat living armor!? That’s so weird but cool!” 

“I know right! You’d think they were inedible, but they actually have a type of mollusk in them!--” 

“--I’ll make sure to bring some up next time so I can show you how we cooked it!”

“Really!? I look forward to tasting it!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ You grew curious of the leader of the Touden party, often finding yourself spending more time with him after dinner to talk about different things

✢ He was so full of personality that you couldn’t help but get drawn in to him– cooking his favorite meals, indulging in his monster facts, and helping him think of different ways some monsters could be cooked

✢ The stories he shared from his encounters in the dungeon often left you wondering, what would it be like if you were part of his party? (You would shake your head to rid of those thoughts, fully knowing that you would be useless if it came to fighting/supporting)

✢ When you heard of Falin’s disappearance and his ambitions, you were distraught yet worried for his well-being– what if he didn’t succeed?

✢ A small part of you wanted to discourage him from the idea, for what if it would be all for nothing? Yet, the larger part of you had hope that he could do it, so you offered your support for him and his party if it meant ensuring their well-being (before they head off)

✢ Considering that they usually spend weeks in the dungeon, you’d often daydream about the tall blond whenever you did your chores

✢ People would catch you lost in the clouds, so you’d quickly become embarrassed when someone would say something

✢ When the time comes for their expected return, you had already set up each room accordingly and prepared a meal for all of them 

 ✢ At some point, when Laios returns, you’d leave a small note and a gift for the man confessing your feelings (he finds it on the bed and thought that you had forgotten it when cleaning it)

✢ Needless to say, Laios wouldn’t be able to look at you, face turning a pretty pink when he’s reminded of your feelings for him

✢ Of course, he expresses his own thoughts and emotions in his own way, so it’d take some time before he approaches you with a determined gleam in his eyes 

✢ In his eyes, he believes that you would make a wonderful partner, your caring attitude making him feel all the more fuzzy

✢ Expect him to be spending a lot of time with you during his stays, as he knows that eventually he’ll have to return back to the dungeon depths

✢ At some point, Laios requests that he sleeps in your room during his stays, which you happily oblige

✢ Whenever he comes back from the dungeon, he always has a gift for you (whether it’s some sort of relic, flower/plant, or ingredient that you two could experiment with)

✢ Eventually, Laios would love to settle down with you after he has gotten his sister back 

“My party members are all idiots, _____.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at them! sigh I’ll take another round of ale.”

“Ehh– they seem fine to me, but whatever you say, Chil.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ When you first met Chilchuck.. he was quite the hot-headed yet reliable person, always complaining about certain events that happened during their dungeon run (You hear a lot about his party members lol)

✢ Over time, you understood his behavior and could see that despite his mean words and actions, he really did care for his friends

✢ You really admired his stern yet caring nature, always scolding those closest to him with good intentions

✢ Chilchuck didn’t really give you much attention at first, only treating you with basic human decency

✢ But the more his party stayed at your inn, the more he began to make light conversations with you, slowly evolving into deep and meaningful discussions that would last into the early hours of the morning

✢ He starts appreciating your presence more and more with each visit, offering to help you make dinner, chatting with you as you both cleaned the dishes… It felt rather intimate, doing this domestic things with you

✢ When Chilchuck notices that he’s developing feelings for you, he’s overcome with fear and anxiety 

✢ He wanted to avoid the potential heartbreak, for he knew all too well what it felt like when he and his wife divorced 

✢ Despite his sudden distancing and coldness, you’d probably corner him one night to confront him about his recent behavior

✢ Chilchuck’s resolve would soon crumble, explaining his recent actions and confessing his feelings for you with a downcast gaze (He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate)

✢ To his surprise, you do! 

✢ Chilchuck would definitely come around more often whenever he has the free time, helping you around the inn and recounting recent events that happened while they were exploring the deeper levels of the dungeon…

✢ You’re quite familiar with his alcoholism, always being there to take care of him when he’s had a little too much to drink…

✢ He can be quite clingy while drunk, so expect to be his body pillow for the next 8 hours

✢ When he plans to open up his shop, you’re there to support him while also taking care of the inn (Maybe the two could go hand in hand…)

“_____! I can’t wait to taste your cooking, it’ll be the first normal meal I’ve ever had in weeks!”

“I'm sure Senshi’s cooking makes the monster ingredients seem more digestible, Marci.”

“NO IT DOESN’T!!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Marcille always made you chuckle to yourself at her expressive attitude, always openly displaying her dislike or favor towards something

✢ She was easy to read at times, her heart always on her sleeve 

✢ She was a pleasant guest to have at your inn, always offering help when it seemed like you needed it but you could never put a guest to work

✢ Yet you always find yourself choked up, unable to say ‘no’ to her offers…

✢ You make sure that her room has things that you know she would like, her previous visits providing you experience

✢ Whenever Marcille comes back from the dungeon, she always pulls you into a hug and cries about how happy she is to eat your home cooked meals again

✢ When you both have free time, she is happy to recount the events from the dungeon and is willing to teach you simple spells (that may prove beneficial since you run the inn)

✢ If you were ever to accidentally nick yourself when cutting a vegetable (or get hurt in general), she’d be there to help cast a healing spell on you

✢ You take note of her motherly behavior, especially with the way she is around Izutsumi 

✢ Compliment her, and you’ll get a bashful Marci who tries to play it off (but deep down she’s internally screaming)

✢ She’s never afraid to show you her affectionate and doting side, always picking up things from the dungeon floors to give to you

✢ She absolutely refuses to introduce you to monster food.

✢ If you were to confess your feelings for her one night after dinner, she’d sputter and almost let the plate slip out of her hand, catching it quickly so it doesn’t break into tiny pieces

✢ Eventually, she would recompose herself and give you her own thoughts and emotions, concluding it with a flustered glance and a smile 

✢ She could almost feel her heart bursting out of her chest at your confession, feeling as if she were going to faint on the spot

✢ Nonetheless, she’s really happy and would always look forward to her return to the surface 

“Welcome back! You brought the ingredients, Senshi?”

“Sure did, ready to start cookin’?”

“You bet!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Senshi was such a pleasant surprise when he suddenly popped into your inn with the Touden party

✢ You’ve never seen the man before, but his amazing beard and mustache are enough to capture your eye (They look very fluffy!)

✢ You learn from him the adventures that the group had faced, as well as the different meals they had in the dungeon

✢ Hearing of the ingredients he used had left you fascinated, wondering just how he was able to make use of such.. exotic creatures

✢ You would honestly take notes as he explains, always butting in with your own questions which he’s happy to answer 

✢ You always learn something new from him everyday.. hm…

✢ Despite you being a responsible adult, he would still see you as a youngin’, always making sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well (and not just your guests)

✢ The two of you slowly develop a fatherly relationship, with Senshi helping you cook, clean, and take care of his party members

✢ You’re truly grateful for his help but tell him that he doesn’t need to go through all the trouble, which he declines and continues about his business anyway

✢ If you wanted to try a specific monster, he’d happily cook it for you and the party one night at the inn

✢ Senshi admires your hard working spirit, always giving you his thanks and compliments

✢ He would rarely stay at the inn and instead stay within the dungeon, but he wouldn’t mind stopping by every now and then, especially with his party

✢ It’s always a joy having Senshi around, and he thinks the same for you

“How have you been, Izutsumi? Anything interesting in the dungeon?”

“..Nah, it was pretty lame for the most part… But at least I got into some action!”

“Hmm? Tell me more about it at dinner! I cooked your favorite.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ At first, Izutsumi was.. reclusive

✢ Always keeping to herself and only interacting with those if she needs to, but she was a bit different when it came to her party members

✢ You noticed how she seemed to have opened up to her fellow members, speaking her mind and becoming much more expressive

✢ She didn’t say much to you at first, but over time, she slowly began to warm up to you

✢ Despite her openly making conversation with you whenever she comes back from the dungeon (or whatever it is that she’s doing), she still keeps her distance just a bit

✢ You’re determined to get to know her, but you’ll never force her to do something she wouldn’t like

✢ You are aware of her table mannerisms and pickiness, yet you don’t mind, always finding a meal that she would enjoy 

✢ Eventually her table mannerisms would get better with the help of you and her party members

✢ You never cared much for the fact that she was a beastkin, instead welcoming her with open arms to the inn when she first came

✢ Sometimes you would find her room a mess, some scratches lingering on the desk or drawers.. you’d give her a small scolding later

✢ Izutsumi honestly sees you as her mother/older sister figure, always doting and caring for her even if she didn’t want it (She’ll never tell you)

✢ At one point she probably called you ‘mom’ by accident, immediately running back to her room to hide away from you for the rest of the day until dinner comes around

✢ She has her walls built up around her but they eventually begin to crumble the more she talks with you over dinner or at night when she can’t sleep

✢ Depending on how she’s feeling, she’d be interested in your history and why you continue to manage this inn, seeing it as a boring job

✢ Izutsumi comes to understand you after a while, and eventually when she returns back to the surface, she finds herself anticipating your presence and meals

[mirohlayo]

https://www.tumblr.com/mirohlayo/736270231017865216/my-introvert-girl-ln4?source=share

Is it bad I wanna see avas reaction andl her showing everyone she hates reader?

okay so i didn't intend to write a part 2 for my introvert girl but many anons asked me for ava's reaction so here is it !! 🫶

MY INTROVERT GIRL | LN4 (pt2)

( lando and you are finally together, but it seems one girl still hates you no matter what )

warning : slight angst, insecurity, fluff, like a lil innuendo but that's all, soft lando

note : not gonna write a part 3 because i think it's useless, but already pretty proud of these 2 parts !!

word count : 4k

!! english not my first language !!

lando and you are dating for quite some weeks now. and everything is going wonderfully. he has never been so in love, and therefore the same for you. he loves you so much and he's never tired of showing it, you being overwhelmed by his affection.

he doesn't hesitate to show the entire world how precious you are to him, and if he has to prove it until everyone notices that you are his he will do it for eternity. and you would do the same for him without a doubt, he is your first boyfriend ever and certainly the last of your life.

your love is so intense and can be feel wherever you two go, that necessarily it does not go unnoticed. especially in the eyes of the pretty blonde who obviously feels the same feelings for lando as you. even if it's always good to remember that lando only has eyes for you and only you.

and it gets on ava's nerves. when she knew about you dating, her jealousy towards you has only increased. she saw red. she was horrified by this sudden new. she was sure lando would ends up dating her because there was no world in which he would have ended up with an introvert like you.

she finds you so bland. uninteresting. you're not comfortable with people and being shy you're not talkative. and you're always stuck on lando's side as if you were going to die if you didn't stay close to him.

and the fact that lando doesn't see anything wrong with it and isn't even a little annoyed by your behavior because he adores when his girl gets clingy. he always ends up staring at you with tenderness like you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

you here, you there. ava hates it. she detests you. if we would offer her the choice to break your couple she would do it without hesitation. and this is obviously what she intends to do. because since she sees no point in lando dating his complete opposite, such an introvert girl. no, he needs an funny and extrovert girl like ava to match him.

winter break allows the f1 drivers to relax and to rest, to spend time with their loved ones. lando was looking forward to it since it's his first winter break with you, so he wants to make the most of it to spend as much time as possible with you.

he organized many trips, one of them is a trip to vietnam. some of his closest friends will take part in the trip, including ava. normally, she wasn't supposed to come but ria had an hold up so she ended up replacing her. to her greatest happiness of course.

for your part, you weren't comfortable with going on this trip with the blonde girl. you know very well how much she hates you and that she wants to ruin your romantic relationship. you don't want to alert lando or anyone else, you don't want to create problems because it's not in your nature unlike ava. so you just decided not to say anything.

you told yourself that putting up with her presence and her stupid remarks for a week wasn't going to be that complicated. and then you'll be with your lover most of the time, so ava won't be able to speak to you much. ignoring her will be the best solution.

you arrived two days ago now, and after eating you all decided to spend the afternoon on the beach playing games like volleyball or even mini football. nothing but just activities for fun.

everyone is excited to play games, but you're not really in the mood. you're feeling a little tired and you just don't feel like having fun right now. on the one hand, your shyness also forces you to stay locked up in the hotel. you like playing games but you're afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of others. especially in front of ava.

so you inform lando about it, that you weren't coming, and he told you that he wasn't going to leave the hotel and stay with you either.

"baby it's okay, i'll stay in the hotel room. go play with the others" you say to him before slip in under the blanket. "no. if you don't go then neither do i. i’ll stay with you" he retorts, joining you in the bed.

he places himself above you, his chest on yours and his arms tightly wrap your waist. "please lando. i know how much you want to spend time with your friends so i would never refuse that to you. i don't want you to stay locked up because of me" you say to convince him.

"but that's the point, i want to stay locked up with you baby. you’re the one i want to spend time with the most. i don't really care about the others for now. if you stay here, then me too. i just want you with me” he pouts, and places his chin on your stomach.

you look down to plant your eyes in his gaze and he shows you his prettiest smile. what an adorable man. "okay fine. but i don't want you to be mad at me for that later" you warn him. "never. i would never blame you, love” he said before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.

"love you" he muffles and his breath tickles you. "i love you too lan" you says before pressing a soft kiss on his hair. you start playing with his curls, while he's here holding you close, leaving some kisses here and there on your shoulder and neck.

an hour passes like this, you two cuddling close to each other. a text from max makes lando's phone vibrate and he groans. he extends his hand lazily and grab his phone to read the text. "what he's saying ?" you ask, sounding sleepy. "if we're going to join them or not" he replies sounding the same as you.

you think for a few moments. lando was going to put his phone down on the nightstand when you finally suggest that you must go out and join the others on the beach. "are you sure? do you really want to go outside?" he asks you cautiously, his tired eyes scanning your face. "yes. i want to stretch out. your body made me sag" you tease him and he rolls his eyes letting out a laugh. “just say i'm too heavy” “no you’re perfect baby”.

he can't help but blush so hard. god it's the first time that a girl has had such an effect on him. and it seems that it flutters him even more coming from an introvert. "fine. let's go then my girl" he says and in a second you're already outside, walking hand in hand to join your friends.

“it looks like the sloths are back” pietra says, nodding towards the couple arriving on the beach. “we didn’t even sleep” lando responds defensively. “oh so you must have done dirty things then" max said playfully, giving implied glances to the two lovers.

lando can feel himself blushing really hard, just like you. “shut up you muppet. you're saying bullshit" you reply embarrassed. everyone seems amused by the situation except of course one person.

ava.

she seems to be killing you with her gaze, looking you up and down like you're the plague itself. of course lando doesn't notice, too hypnotized by the beautiful girl walking beside him. he almost falls to the ground because of you.

“well, looks like y/n finally got the guts to show herself. which is rare with her, we almost wonder if she even exists sometimes.” ava looks at you and displays a fake, hypocritical smile. no one seems to laugh at her remark and the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. you don't know where to go or how to react. you feel a little humiliated to tell the truth.

"huh, what did you say ?" lando remarks, a little confused by what the blonde just said. the girl sighs and rolls her eyes before showing her smile that you dream of making her swallow. “oh it’s okay, it was just kidding. we all know that y/n isn’t comfortable with people but i love her anyway” she finally added.

you feel like shit. she's talking like you're the worst scumbag on earth and you don't even have the strength to defend yourself. your shyness seems to be taking over. "um well. okay ava just stop talking and instead start playing. you've been losing every round since a while ago" martin says to lighten the atmosphere because everyone seemed disturbed and embarrassed by the situation.

you sigh and slowly drop lando's hand, but he holds it tightly and looks at you. “don't worry baby, i'm going to stay with you. we can relax on the deckchairs if you prefer” lando kindly offers you, he wants to make you feel comfortable.

“as you wish” you shrug your shoulders trying to hide your sadness and pain and lando smiles at you before leading you towards the deckchairs. he lays down comfortably on one and you move towards another one close to his. but he grabs your hand and makes you sit on his legs. “lie on me love” he begs you with his eyes.

you smile shyly at him and stand up. "nah. we're in public lando, i don't want to receive all the teasing from our friends" you declare before lying down on another deckchair. he pouts, disappointed not to feel your body against his. he even brings his deckchair closer to yours so he can hold your hand, or play with a few strands of your hair.

the sun is strong and the beach umbrella protects you, with of course the sunscreen that you put on before. the waves dance loudly and the laughter of your friends fills the atmosphere with joy. it's calming.

well, it was calming for a little while. ava noticed that you weren't with them playing a game of volleyball and while scanning the surroundings, she spotted you on the deckchairs, silly smiles on your races and lando being extremely touchy with you.

she hates this view. she hates you. she would like to tear off your smile and make you disappear. she already imagines herself in your place, laughing loudly with lando. you are not in your place. it's her. you don't deserve lando.

she walks briskly towards the two of you, and your faces turn towards her. the blonde smiles hypocritically and without any hesitation, she sits on the edge of your lover's deckchair. which you don't like at all. and neither does lando, since he doesn't wait a single second to gently push her with his leg.

she seems hurt and shows it openly, putting her hand to her heart to express her pain ironically. "you hurt me lando. i thought we were friends" she said in a sad tone. “we kind of are. but this place is reserved for my girlfriend only” he answers, holding your hand tighter.

you feel more reassured and you feel your heart soar at the words of your lover. he knows when to show others that it's only you who matters. this comment makes ava roll her eyes, but it's subtle enough that only you notice. she sits on another deck chair and turns to you.

“why don’t you come play with us?” she starts to start a conversation. “y/n doesn’t really want to and neither do i, so i'm staying with her.” lando says and she lets a mocking laugh come out of her mouth and you look at her surprised. “it looks like you’re babysitting her” she says, laughing.

did you hear that correctly? is she serious? you can't let this go. “what did you say?” you ask with a frown. she lets another laugh escape and it also attracts lando's attention. "you seem like you're a baby who always needs lando's attention. he looks like a babysitter because of you"

it’s lando’s turn to frown. he holds your hand a little more firmly. “what do you mean ava?” he says, he knows something is wrong. the blonde sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, glaring at y/n.

"look, she's not even capable of playing with others and having fun. she's stopping you from having good times. she's so shy and... introverted that she's ruining your holidays, even your personal space. she's always stuck to you, it seems like she doesn't know how to cope without you it's just... pathetic." she unpacks it all while looking at you with disgust.

oh you feel so humiliated now. you feel tears coming but you hold them back, crying in front of her will only make things worse. you feel so weak and worthless. you blame yourself for being so insecure, being so shy and reserved. because maybe it's the truth.

maybe lando is finally fed up with you and he hates being around you, stuck with an ordinary and shy person like you. he probably can't have the fun he wants because of your shyness. maybe it's true, you're like a child who's ruining his life.

"don't ever talk about her that way again. you really disgust me ava. you don't even measure up to her and you dare open your fucking mouth to say bullshit" lando starts to raise his voice. you can tell he looks extremely angry.

“oh because you also want to defend her?” she asks mockingly. "i defend her and will defend her no matter what happens. you don't have to talk to my girlfriend like that when she is everything you will never be" he spits his words in her face and gives her a cold look.

he jumps up and holds your hand tightly. when his gaze falls on you, it softens. “come on y/n. let’s go back to the hotel” he pulls you towards him and walks you to the hotel pushing ava out of the way. “get out. i don’t want to see you anymore.” he says his last words to her.

the blonde remains standing, alone. a strange, painful and hurtful feeling takes hold of her. the rest of the group stopped playing, observing the scene. now it's ava's turn to feel humiliated. why did she do that?

for your part, you and Lando return to your hotel room. it's silent. he opens the door and you run to take refuge in the bed, so that he joins you a few seconds later. "don't worry baby. don't listen to her, she's talking nonsense. she just wants to destroy you" lando tries to reassure you and you just nod your head.

you smile at him to reassure him in turn, although deep down you are still a little worried. you're still a little hurt. a part of you tells you that it's true, that Lando doesn't like being constantly stuck to you. you don't like it at all.

the rest of the afternoon passes quickly for your boyfriend, but slowly for you. you can't stop overthinking, thinking about ava's words. part of your brain still makes you believe that you don't deserve lando and that he will be better off with ava. it eats you from the inside. you don't like to doubt lando but ava makes you feel vulnerable and insecure.

and your boyfriend noticed it. he noticed that you had become quieter, you only spoke to him very recently. and he starts to worry about you. he suspects deep down that it's because of earlier that you seem off. so he knows exactly what to do.

he proposed, well more like forced you to watch the sunset, just the two of you, him and you on the beach. no group of friends, no ava, no games, no, just the two of you on the beach. you weren't for it at first but you love sunsets and night walks on the beach, so you finally gave up. especially if it's with lando. you walk hand in hand on the warm sand. the waves rock your ears and the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. how beautiful. you find a comfortable spot and sit down, lando still holding your hand in his.

he gently caresses it with his thumb, pressing a few random kisses on the back of your hand. he rests your head on his shoulder, and you admire the magnificent landscape in the distance. it's soothing, it's romantic.

"beautiful right?” lando murmurs against you, staring into the distance. you smile to yourself. “very beautiful” “just like you” he responds quickly and you can tell he’s grinning. you laugh softly and shake your head. “how cheesy” you blurt out and it’s his turn to let out a soft laugh.

oh his laugh.

although you still hide it, lando knows he needs to talk to you. that he must reassure you. that he has to make you sure how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you. because you're the only girl who makes it feel this good.

“y/n” he whispers your name so softly, and it warms your heart. “hmm babe?” you hum. he moves to get a little closer to you and rests his head on yours. "i know what you're thinking about since this afternoon” he begins cautiously not wanting to rush you. he knows your nature.

"w-what ?" you try to hide. but you know very well that he knows you by heart. “please don’t try to avoid the subject. you know what i'm talking about.” he ends up saying.

you sigh. you know you have to talk to him about it, it will only do you good. “yes sorry.” "don't feel sorry love. take your time". he said in such a caring way. he presses a soft kiss against your hair. and another on your cheek. he loves kissing your face so much.

you take a deep breath. you press your hand a little more against his. "it's just... it's just that i feel so insecure when ava talks about me like that. i keep telling myself that i don't deserve you, that you deserve someone who looks like you and who is not your opposite. like ava". you pause but you know he continues to be attentive and listen to you.

"i..." you continue "i keep thinking that it must bore you to stay constantly and always with me. that my shyness surely prevents you from having fun and enjoying your life to the fullest. that i'm like a drag and dating an introvert like me is a bad idea” you finish, tears soon escaping your eyes.

now he faces you. he looks at you with so much gentleness, so much affection and love. his gaze becomes sadder when he hears what is on your heart and his heart suddenly tightens at your words. he hates hearing you talk about yourself like that, devaluing you when all he loves about you is what you're insecure about.

“my baby…” he whispers and places his hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently. he wipes with his thumb a tear that has just escaped your eyes. he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and smiles affectionately at you.

"i wish you could see you through my eyes". he places another kiss on your forehead. the sun illuminates his face, the waves seem to transport you.

"i fucking love you. like fucking fucking love you. it's me who doesn’t deserve you. it's me who should hate myself for not always making you feel secure about me and our relationship" he explains. "i don't care about ava, you know that. she is absolutely nothing compared to you. it's not her or someone like her that i want. it's you. you're the only one i want and need so badly".

his hands slide to grab yours. "being constantly by your side is the best thing in the world. i don't care if we are in the worst place in the world, in the worst possible situation, as long as i am with you and by your side i know that everything will be fine. there's nowhere i'd like to be without you. it's just impossible. all i fucking want is to stay with you as long as possible."

he smiles brightly at you before finishing. "and your shyness will not change my love for you or how i live my life. i fell in love with you because of this side of you, because you are introverted and you are so much my opposite that i am extremely attracted to you. it's like that. so don't blame yourself, because i don't want you to change that even though it doesn't even bother me a little bit. i love it. i adore you. i love you and i love you. love you and i will always love you"

you sure you look like nothing now. your eyes must probably be puffy and red but that's okay. lando doesn't care too. you can't help but smile at him with all your teeth. “i love you so much lando. i love you with all my heart and that will never change” you whisper against his neck.

he places thousands of kisses on your head, caressing your back. god how much he loves you too, your love is so deep and strong. “hope it'll never change then” he adds and puts his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to his body as possible.

and without a word, in a calming silence, you stay in each other's arms until the sun sets completely. a starry sky now paints the night. you are still glued to each other, your head on your lover's stretched out legs. you admire the stars while he admires you. it's perhaps one of his favorite activities. just looking at you, like the most beautiful paintings in the world. but soon you notice that he doesn't pay attention to the sky and you point this out to him, teasing him.

“look at the sky, it's so pretty” you hum “but you're prettier” he simply retorts, telling the truth. you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh. “never tired of being cheesy” you laugh shyly. “never” he adds while smiling. but he ends up raising his head towards the sky. it is true that the stars are infinitely beautiful. they shine so much, and he can't help but describe them like that, as he describes you the same way. he runs his hand through your hair, eyes anchored to the stars.

“do you see all these stars?” he asks and you hum in response. "i would hunt them all for you if you asked me. i would bring them all to you if that's what you want. ask me to bring down the moon and i would do it without hesitation just for you" he said softly, a silly smile on his lips.

you can’t help but burst out laughing. “how romantic” you tease him but deep down you melt, feeling so confident after all those sweet words. he lowers his head to look at you, smiling fully.

he admires you for a moment, take in your features. his heart never stops beating faster at the sight of you, even after weeks of being in a relationship. and he leans down to finally kiss you, his lips capturing yours perfectly. gosh he loves kissing you so much, he might never stop. he pulls back and pecks your nose.

“love you always, my introvert girl” he smiles softly.

[peachdues]

BIRTHDAY SURPRISES — NSFW

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader

A/N: there is nothing redeemable about this. It’s just 7.9k words of pure filth in honor of my man’s birthday.

My husband got a boner reading this, so enjoy you whores.

CW: MDNI • Explicit sexual content • daddy!kink • elevator blowjobs • creampies • rough sex • kinky sex • brat-taming/mild dumbification • overstimulation • fluff at the end followed by more smut • not proof read lmao

Sanemi Shinazugawa has never liked the month of November.

For starters, the stupid month can’t decide what damn season it wants to be. It’s somehow too cold to really qualify as autumn and the leaves have usually fallen to the ground, brown and dead and useless, but it’s also still too warm to snow.

And November is such a tease — smack dab between two great holidays yet offering nothing but a restlessness that persists until the end of the year.

So no, Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t fond of this time of year. But the universe has never shied away from giving him the middle finger, so Sanemi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised his birthday falls during such a bullshit month like November.

He’d been content to spend the day of his birth like he did every other year — hunkered down in his apartment with some cheap takeout, alone, without anyone to make a big fuss about it. That was the plan — his goddamn plan.

So how the fuck did he end up here?

The “here” in question is a suite at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. The room is stuffed full of faces, some familiar but most not, packed together like sardines. The music is loud and pulsing and it threatens to give him a nasty headache.

It was Tengen who convinced him to allow this — though, Sanemi doesn’t suppose he was given much of a choice in the matter. But his friend group learned of his impending birthday a few weeks earlier, and before Sanemi could level a few, well-backed threats against any party planning, Tengen had booked the massive suite in which he now found himself, and promised Sanemi that he wouldn’t have to buy a single drink.

Sanemi agreed only on the condition that he be allowed to book a separate hotel room — several floors below where this godforsaken party now raged.

At least Tengen had meant it when he promised Sanemi wouldn’t have to spend a dime on alcohol. He took care to run up his friend’s tab by ordering several shots of Grey Goose, throwing them back as easily as water.

Hey, it was his birthday, after all.

The hotel suite is a blur of lights and colors and bodies pressed together in dark corners. Truthfully, Sanemi really can’t find any one thing to pay attention to; it’s ironic that this party is supposedly for him, and yet he feels like the most invisible person in the room.

But then he spots you — beautiful, witty, and charming you — seated in the lounge area, surrounded by both shared friends and strangers, and it’s like a spotlight has been pointed directly at you. All else seems to fall away, recessing into the shadows of the room, and his attention is locked solely on you; the star of the show that is his birthday party.

The feelings swirling in Sanemi’s chest are dangerous; lethal. He knows he should look away and accept the fact that you, with your endless pick of eligible women and men, would never deign to chase after someone like him, someone with as many scars on his heart as are seared into his skin. He knows that. He knows he’s only setting himself up to get more pissed off — to hate his birthday more than he already does.

But he can’t stop watching you.

And even if he could, he doesn’t want to. He’s only been in love with you since the moment Shinobu tugged you into a booth at a bar they all frequented. There hadnt really been any room for you to sit — not with seven of them already packed tightly onto the bench — but you’d taken one look at him and grinned, something that could only be described as mischief lighting your eyes.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” You’d asked him sweetly as you plopped your ass right down on his lap. “You look like you’re the comfiest one here.”

Sanemi, who was known for having a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, had been stunned into silence by the presence of a beautiful woman, perched on his knee like it was the most natural thing to sit on a stranger’s lap. His friends had been hard-pressed to suppress their smirks at the way Sanemi gaped at the back of your head, and he was fairly certain it was because you’d been so ballsy that you’d secured a permanent spot in their weekly bar rotation.

That had been over a year ago, and Sanemi’s infatuation with you grew deeper by the day.

Not that he’d ever done anything about it — even though, at times, it felt like you were all but baiting him into acting on his feelings. He wanted to believe the way your eyes followed him wherever he went in a room meant something, that your lingering touches were an invitation for more, but he could never bring himself to find out.

That cowardice, he supposed bitterly, was exactly what led him here, sitting alone at the suite room bar, watching as countless others flirted with you and you, right back.

A few times your eyes had tracked him across the room; one time, you looked as though you were about to push through the throng of people shoved into Tengen’s suite to come talk to him, but a hand on your bicep caught you and diverted your attention.

It’s then that Sanemi snaps. The moment he watches as the asshole in question pulls you against him for a slow grind, that jealous, monstrous thing in his chest rears its ugly head, growling and gnawing to be let free.

He’d hoped, for one pathetic moment, that you would push the man away, shake your head, do something that indicated you weren’t the least bit interested in him, no matter how fascinating his multi-colored eyes were, or how charming his feral grin was, but you didn’t. And the moment he sees the douchebag pull your hips flush against his, Sanemi knows he needs to get some air.

So with less grace than he knows he probably should show, Sanemi shoves his way towards the door leading out the suite and into the hallway.

Fuck it, he decides. He would go back to his room, several floors below, take a shower and hit the fucking hay. His birthday was bullshit, anyways.

He storms towards the elevators, slightly tipsy and certainly angry. He stabs a finger against the down button, his leg bouncing as he waits for the elevator to come and save him from his own party.

“What’re you doing out here, birthday boy?”

His stomach sinks to his ass at the familiar cadence of the voice behind him. Reluctantly, he turns and sees you making your way down the hallway wall, a smirk on your pretty lips and looking downright sinful in that flimsy, silvery dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs.

That damn elevator can’t come fast enough.

“Go back to the party,” he says tightly, though he still won’t look you directly in the eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time.”

You draw up short. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanemi only scoffs and jabs frustratingly at the elevator button, willing for the telltale ding that will allow him to step into the lift and get far the fuck away from this rager he didn’t want.

From you.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” You push, resuming your advance on him and shortening the space between your bodies. “Sanemi —“

“Save it,” Sanemi bites, and because he cannot help himself, he adds, “I just don’t particularly feel like watching you spread your legs for some lowlife asshole who can’t be bothered to remember your name.”

You blink, comprehension dawning on your face before melting to anger. “That’s what you’re so pissy about?”

Sanemi silently begs the elevator to hurry the fuck up, because now you’re only a few feet away from him and he doesn’t want you to see his fraying restraint.

You fold your arms across your chest, hip jutting out to the side. “You’re acting like a bitch because some jackass tried to grind on me? Why do you even care?”

Sanemi dodges your question with ease.

“You’re the one who fuckin’ followed me out here.”

The elevator dings and Sanemi is damn near falling to his knees in gratitude at its timing. The double sliding doors have barely finished opening before he’s already inside, jamming his finger into the button marked 26, praying it’ll move faster than it arrived.

The doors start to close but a pair of hands slam against both sides of the doorway, preventing them from joining in the middle.

You stand in the center of the threshold, eyes bright and nostrils flaring, the elevator doors half-closed around you.

“It wasn’t easy to throw this party together y’know,” you snap at him, and dully, Sanemi thinks the glare you give him is strong enough to wither plants. “Everyone went out of their way to try and make you feel special, but you’ve been nothing but an asshole about it.”

“I didn’t ask you all to do this — I begged you not to,” Sanemi retorts just as hotly, his arms folding across his chest. “I didn’t want a fuckin’ party.”

“Well, what do you want?”

the silence that stretches between you is more telling than any answer he could have given. By the way your lips part, you seem to realize it at the same moment he does, and that’s when Sanemi knows he’s fucked.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, the weight of Sanemi’s unspoken admission hanging above your heads like the sword of Damocles.

But then, the blade drops, and it must impale you both, because suddenly your hands fall from the elevator doors and are tangling in his hair at the same moment Sanemi’s fingers latch onto your waist, and your mouths slam together in a fiery clash of lips and teeth.

The elevator doors slide shut behind you right as Sanemi presses you up against the paneled wall and slides his tongue into your mouth.

At the first stroke of his tongue against yours, you tense, and for one panicked moment, he fears he’s gone too far. But then you’re melting against him, and the way you tug on his hair and whimper his name against his lips makes Sanemi loses his goddamn mind.

Time stands still and there are no thoughts in Sanemi’s brain but the feel of your hands running down his arms, his chest, pushing under the open collar of his shirt to dance along his burning skin.

They can’t get to the 26th floor fast enough, no matter how fast the numbers tick past, bringing them closer and closer to privacy —

The elevator jolts to a stop, somewhere between the 29th and 28th floors, and does not move.

It’s just his fucking luck; the girl of his dreams is pressed flush against him, her lips at his ear as she begs for him, and the goddamn elevator has forgotten how to work. If his hands weren’t so busy pushing under the hem of that slip you call a dress to fondle the curve of your ass, he might’ve put a hole through the one of the doors.

He punches the button for the 26th floor again and again, his sanity fraying with each urgent jab of his fingers, yet the elevator still does not move.

If the idea that the pair of you are stranded in a metal box of death suspended over twenty stories high bothers you, Sanemi wouldn’t be able to tell — not when you’ve decided to turn your attention someplace else.

“What’re you —“ Sanemi’s voice is hardly more than a croak as your hands busy themselves with the buckle on his belt, fumbling and tugging until the leather fastened around his hips gives way.

“Shhh!” A press of your index finger to his lips silences him. “Birthday boys shouldn’t worry!”

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and suddenly they’re following you down as you slide to your knees before him.

Sanemi’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the way your half-lidded gaze drifts from his face down his body, coming to rest on the tent of his briefs, jutting out from between his thighs.

Your voice is syrupy and warm as you whisper, “I guess I should let you have your first gift,”

Sanemi forgets how to breathe when you peer back up at him, your eyes suddenly round and wide; he nearly forgets how to stand when you lean forward and press your cheek against the side of his cock where it strains against his underwear.

Sanemi sucks in sharply through clenched teeth at the sudden rush of cold elevator air against the heated, sensitive skin of his bare cock, your fingers having tugged him free from the confines of his briefs.

“F-first?” He can’t stop the way the question stutters out, not when your lips, just barely gazing against him, drag from his base to his tip. The soft exhale of your warm breath up his length has his hands shooting behind him for something — anything — to grip.

You hum in confirmation, and Sanemi’s vision almost blacks out when your tongue peeks past your glossy, red-stained lips to trail over his leaking head.

“But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get to your room before you can unwrap the next one.”

Sanemi swears he’ll set the entire hotel building on fire if the elevator doesn’t start working in the next fucking minute. His vicious promise, however, fades to the back of his mind, along with every other coherent thought he’s ever had as your lips part around his head and you take him into your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Sanemi hisses and his head falls back against the elevator wall with a dull thump.

You him pleasantly around his cock and Sanemi nearly cums right there, the vibrations from your mouth too sweet, adding gasoline to the already raging inferno of his desire.

At first, you keep your hands primly folded behind you, only allowing your mouth to work his shaft. Every time you slide up off him, you curl your tongue against the underside of his cock and every time, Sanemi has to draw upon every morsel of self-restraint he possesses to not buck further down your throat.

But soon, your hands pat their way to his, and you bring his hands against either side of your head. You hold them there for only a moment, just long enough for Sanemi’s stomach to flip as he realizes what you’re giving him permission to do.

You peer up at him with those big eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, and he knows you’re trying to kill him.“Motherfucking — Y/N,” he moans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck.”

With his grip in your hair secure, Sanemi begins to fuck your mouth. His cock slides in and out of your heat, every push shoving a little more of himself further into your mouth. You only relax your throat, your tongue still curling against the underside of his shaft in a way that makes Sanemi see white.

Sanemi’s hold on your hair tightens. “Fucking take it,” he pants, hips bucking against your face. “My little cock whore.” From his position over you, Sanemi can see the way his words make you squirm with need, your answering moan long, and deep.

Your hands flutter to the side of his thighs, and Sanemi almost winces at the prick of your nails against his skin. But despite the saliva steadily trailing down your chin and the guttural sounds choking in the back of your throat, you’re tugging him closer, your fingers inching around to grip his backside, pressing him closer and closer to you until your nose brushes his groin.

The elevator jolts with movement and resumes its descent, but neither of you notice. All Sanemi can focus on his the way his tip bumps against the back of your throat, and how your cheeks hollow against him as he ruts into your mouth.

Sanemi makes a strangled noise in the vague shape of your name. “I-I’m gonna —“

You only need to swallow around him once before Sanemi is filling your throat with his cum. With a deep groan, his head drops back, his hand splayed across the back of your skull, keeping your nose pressed against his base as he rocks his hips, his cock twitching violently in your mouth.

His eyes fly open when he feels the wetness from your tears against the sensitive skin of his groin, and he’s quick to pull out of your mouth. Your hands bracing against his thighs as you gulp down air in heavy, shuddering gasps.

“Fuck — I’m sorry,” his hands smooth worryingly over your hair. “That was too rough, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-“

Your head snaps up, and Sanemi feels a brief moment of panic at the sight of your mascara, streaked down your cheeks from an onslaught of tears. Bht then you’re smiling at him, a big, triumphant, radiant smile, and Sanemi feels almost as dumb in the head as he had when your mouth was around his cock.

The elevator slows and Sanemi hastily tucks himself back into his pants. The moment his belt is refastened, his hand is on your arm, gently guiding you up to stand right as a ding! sounds, and the doors slide open to reveal the 26th floor.

You step out first, turning back to him expectantly. “Well? What room?”

Sanemi’s heart falls to his ass as he beholds the assured confidence blazing in your eyes. “2602,” he manages to croak.

You tug him out of the elevator and for a few moments, he’s dumbstruck by his good fortune. It almost feels like a dream, that your here, leading him down the winding hallway of this oversized and overpriced hotel, eager to get back to his room and do whatever the hell it is that’s lit that fire in your eyes.

Sanemi’s awe is short-lived, replaced by a crashing wave of need and boiling desire, hot and furiously bubbling under his skin. His hand tightens around yours and he jerks you around, spinning you until you’re caged tightly between the hallway wall and his chest.

His mouth attacks your neck, biting and sucking his claim into your skin, no matter how temporary. Your leg hikes up to hook around his hips, your foot pressed against his calf, and it seems neither of you care that you’re very much still on an open hallway as opposed to the privacy of his hotel room.

“I’m not holding back with you,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat. His hands slide hotly down your sides, fingers toying under the absurdly short hem of your dress, kneading just beneath the curve of your ass. “You asked me what I wanted — I want this. You.”

Your sultry giggle in his ear chokes off as Sanemi’s finger dips under your ass from behind to run firmly over your clothed slit. A breathy fuck falls from his lips as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

“That’s your main gift,” you’re tugging on his hair again until you’ve pulled him away from your throat so that you can slant your mouth over his. “Me. However you want me.”

You take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck, and Sanemi swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “As many times as you want.”

“And in whatever positions you want.”

Sanemi has never been a particularly religious man, but he thinks he’s about one nanosecond from dropping to his knees in worship of you.

Sanemi wastes no time in hauling you over his shoulder, throwing any and all cares to the wind of being seen as he slaps your ass and books the remaining trek back to his hotel room. Youre lucky his room is only around the corner, given that you won’t stop groping his ass.

Somehow, Sanemi manages to fumble for his keycard and swipes it, and he has you inside his room and pushed up against the door before it even fully latches shut.

You’re moaning and panting just from his hands, and Sanemi can feel himself already growing hard once more. His lips are feverish as they roam from your lips, to your neck, and down to the hem of your dress concealing your soft breasts from sight. His hands are even greedier, bunching the tissue-paper-like fabric of you dress between his fingers as he explores the curves and dips of your body.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

From the way your hands drag down his chest, fingers sliding between the undone buttons of his shirt to explore his chest, he knows you’re just as starved as he is.

With a slight whine, you push him back, breaking your kiss. Sanemi looks at you, but the question building on his tongue does as you kick your heels off, your fingers flying to the straps of your dress.

Sanemi feels locked in place by the heat of your gaze, and he swears he can feel his pulse tick in his neck. One by one, you push the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the satiny material fall down your waist and puddle around your feet.

If Sanemi thought he was losing his mind before, he knows for certain that he likely needs to be committed now.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sanemi’s stare is unabashed and gaping. For beneath that flimsy scrap of shiny fabric pretending to be a dress was not your bare skin, but dark green lace and mesh and corset paneling.

A teddy.

You twist slightly so you’re looking over your shoulder, fully exposing your ass and the thong-like back of your one-piece to the slack-jawed birthday boy.

“I figured you would like this one.”

Your words knock Sanemi right off his axis, his head spinning so fast, it’s a miracle it’s still attached to his shoulders.

You’d worn fucking lingerie for his party.

For him.

You’d gone out of your way to wear something you thought he would like on the mere chance you’d end up as you were now, here in his room. You’d planned for it.

You didn’t leave him any other choice; he was going to fucking ruin you.

His hand flies behind his neck to grip his shirt, ripping it over his head and throwing it unceremoniously to the side.

Sanemi doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your pupils blowing wide at the sight of the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.

He kicks off his shoes and his hands shove his pants quickly down his legs, grateful that he hadn’t bothered to refasten his belt or button after the stunt you pulled in the elevator.

“C’mere,” he orders, roughly. Left in just his black briefs, he lunges forward to take you into his arms once more.

Your peal of laughter as Sanemi throws you onto his king-sized hotel bed is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He wastes no time pouncing on you, eager to reconnect your lips, to kiss you until you’re left as breathless and wanting as he is.

Between messy kisses, Sanemi’s hands make their way down your body, squeezing and marveling at the way your body seems made for his touch. And as if the feeling of your skin beneath his palms isn’t enough to drive him wild, you’re so responsive to his touch. Every stroke of his hands seems to bring you alive until you’re practically thrumming with want and begging him for more.

His fingers slide over your lace-covered cunt and he swears at the dampness he feels clean through the fabric of your teddy.

“Eager, are we?” He hums, his lips following down the path he traced with his hands. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your hips buck impatiently against him as his face settles between your thighs. He grins at your desperation, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your inner thigh until he reaches your covered slit.

He lets his tongue peek out between his lips and drags it over until he reaches your other thigh, groaning at the faint taste of you dampening the lace.

Sanemi’s fingers push under the edge of the teddy, a breath blowing past his lips when he connects with your dripping cunt.

“Look how fucking soaked you are,” he says in awe, marveling the way your slick coats his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

You groan, pushing your hips down to grind harder against his hand.

“Just fuck me already,” you huff. “I’m ready now.”

Sanemi tsks softly at you. “You need to ask a lot nicer than that, sweet girl.”

Your impatient demands taper off into soft moans as Sanemi sinks a single finger into your entrance, his cock growing impossibly hard at the feeling of you clenching easily around him.

Sanemi practically trembles at the thought of sinking into your heat, of how you might feel clenching and pulsing around his length while he fucks you the way he’s been dreaming since he met you.

But while he might be pent up, Sanemi isn’t so much of an asshole that he wouldn’t make sure you were good and ready to take him.

So he simply tugs the crotch of your teddy aside and without any further teasing or torture, he latches his mouth to your cunt with a deep moan.

As his tongue darts between your folds, Sanemi realizes that all the cake in the world couldn’t compare to how fucking sweet your pussy tastes.

You cry out, his name stuttering out between a staccato of moans and cooes for more. Your hands twist in his hair, alternating between pulling his face closer to your core and pushing him away, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear.

Sanemi thinks he could get drunk on your taste. His eyes open to watch the way your face pinches, how your jaw goes slack to let his name drip from your tongue.

Your hands unwind from his hair to tug at the sinful draping of lace fitted against your body like a glove. “Off,” you whimper. “Off.”

It takes him a moment to realize what you want. But after another plea of “off,” Sanemi’s hands are already working to push the teddy down your lithe form.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he soothes, dragging the lingerie off your legs. Sanemi swears softly at the sight of you, bare and spread out on his mattress, your body pliant and ready for him to use however he chooses.

“S-Sanemi,” he can’t suppress his grin at the apparent whine in your tone. “I feel so — so empty —“

He doesn’t try to hold in the groan resounding deep from his chest. Youre asking — practically begging — for his cock, and Sanemi doesn’t have the willpower to deny you.

“Fuck this,” he snarls, and suddenly your body is caged under his, his hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of your thighs. “I need to be in you.”

His lips dance feverishly up the side of your neck until they reconnect with yours.

For a moment, your kiss slows to something more sensual and passionate, as opposed to the heated and frantic kisses you’d exchanged earlier. The sigh you exhale against his mouth is the sexiest thing Sanemi has ever heard, and the feeling of your fingers latching in his hair is a sensation he never wants to forget.

Your tongue swipes along his lower lip in a silent request for entry that he’s only too happy to grant. You moan against the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Sanemi knows he’s been head over heels for you for a long time, but the way your tongue dances languidly with his has him utterly undone.

If you wanted to, he’d let you swallow him whole.

Your kiss melts into something more needy and frantic, and Sanemi feels your wetness grind down against his thigh, a pleading whimper building on your lips. With an eagerness that makes his head spin, your legs shift to lock around his waist, and one of the hands you’d had latched in his hair drifts down his abdomen until it finds his cock, heavy and hot in your palm.

“I’ve got a condom —“ Sanemi manages between desperate kisses. “In my wallet —“

But your legs tighten around his hips and your hand pumps harder at his stiffened length. “Don’t need it,” you murmur against his lips. “On the pill.”

Sanemi thinks he might pass out. “Fuck — are you sure?”

You nod, eyes bright and alert even in spite of your sleepy, fucked-out smile. “Wanna feel you, baby.”

Don’t have to fucking tell him twice. Especially not when you’re calling him baby, even if it’s a pet name you’ll only use on him for the night.

With deft hands, Sanemi flips you so that your front is pressed against the mattress. You scramble beneath him to plant your knees, raising your ass high in the air, your cunt held out in an offering he could never refuse.

He gives one of your pert ass cheeks an appreciative smack before he shuffles forward on his knees. He rests one foot on the outside of your leg, parallel with your hip, and slots his other knee between your parted thighs. One hand grips the base of his cock while the other kneads at your hip, holding you steady while also keeping your limbs relaxed as he lines his tip up with your dripping entrance.

“Unless you say otherwise, ‘M goin’ hard,” he warns, his voice rougher than gravel. “Been waiting too long to do this.”

Ever the devilish little minx, you wiggle your hips back against him, and his breath chokes in his throat when your wet heat catches him at his tip.

You look back over your shoulder and Sanemi’s gaze darkens at the challenge in your eyes. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Sanemi decides to respond to your taunt not with his words, but with his body. In a single, fluid movement, he plunges his cock deep into your heated core, his fingers tightening around your hips with bruising force.

“Jesus fuck,” he pants once he’s fully embedded to the hilt inside your warmth.

It’s unreal; the feeling of your silken, pleasure-soaked walls moulding around his cock like you were made to take him sends a bolt lightning surging down his spine, making him shudder.

A cross between a cry and a scream tears from your throat, muffled only by the press of your mouth against the starchy blankets of his hotel bed. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you want him to go slow for a bit since he knows he’s a larger than average. but then you’re throwing your hips back against him, circling and grinding and mewling for more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Fuck me, Sanemi — please.”

“God fucking damn,” Sanemi hisses through clenched teeth. And he knows he can’t deny you, not when your whining so prettily for him; nor when your pussy feels this fucking good.

He draws back, his cock sliding out of you until only his tip remains. He lingers there, for just a hair’s breadth of a moment, teasing.

Your impatient whine doesn’t last long as Sanemi slams you back onto him, the sound choking off in your throat. He doesn’t give you time to recover; he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips and drives his cock into you again and again, pounding a relentless rhythm into you that has you sobbing into the mattress.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You blubber, your fingers fisted into the blankets below for purchase as you push yourself back to meet his frenzied thrusts.

Sanemi can’t tear his eyes away from where his cock, shiny with your wetness, disappears in and out of you. “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well,” he says in awe. Your pussy is gripping him like a vice, practically sucking him back into your heat. “You like letting me use you, huh?”

Sanemi shifts so that his weight is on the knee resting beside your leg, allowing him to push harder and deeper into your cunt. You try to lift your head, but Sanemi’s hand leaves its place on your hip to press down on the back of your neck, squeezing lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” you groaned, voice slightly muffled from where your face was half-pressed into the mattress. “Oh god — just like that — D-daddy, yes —“

Sanemi’s hips stutter. Daddy. No one has ever called him that in the bedroom before, but fuck if it doesn’t somehow make him harder than a fucking diamond.

Especially because it seems like it slipped out of you without much thought, your eyes too busy staring at the back of your skull as every punishing thrust of Sanemi’s cock into your pliant cunt makes your body bounce against the mattress.

He likes it. A lot.

“Should’ve known you’d have a daddy kink, filthy little thing,” he groans, his hand reaching under you to toy with your swollen clit.

You only moan in response, and Sanemi can’t help but to swirl his fingers around that nub, savoring the way it makes your thighs quiver beneath you.

The hand still pressing against the back of your neck slides up to grip your hair, and Sanemi pulls your head up from the bed. “Do you call everyone ‘daddy,’ sweetness, or just those who fuck you the way you like it?”

“Not everyone” you gasp, voice strained against the tight arch of your neck. “Just you — ah! Only you.”

With a growl, Sanemi’s arm locks around your middle and hauls you up until your back is flush against his chest. One hand wraps around your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks to keep your head back as he continues pounding into you.

“Look at you,” his exhales hotly against your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe. “Daddy’s pretty little toy.”

Your thighs quake in their effort to keep you up. Your moans raise an octave, warbling out of your throat as you settle heavily against him, utterly helpless against the pleasure rolling through your body.

Sanemi’s hand drops from your jaw to drag teasingly down your torso. When he reaches your lower belly, he presses his palm flat, the pressure allowing the blunt head of his cock to rub against that sensitive spot that makes you sing his name.

“You feel that, baby?” And the whine that slips out of you is one he wishes he could bottle up. “That’s all me — that’s how deeply I’m fucking you.”

He’s practically holding you up, your limbs little more than jelly, but he doesn’t mind. He only increases the pressure of his hand, rubbing slightly over the softness of your stomach.

“And that’s where I’m gonna fill you up, ‘til you’re nice and full, hm?”

A stilted cry of his name is dragged from your lips, and Sanemi swears he’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let him.

It’s not lost on him that this is likely a one-time thing; that you’ll likely leave his hotel room and the two of you won’t speak of it again, but he can’t find it within himself to give a shit.

It doesn’t matter if this is just a slightly drunken hook up — it doesn’t matter to him if it’s just sex. You’re letting him use your body for his pleasure, and that thought is enough to make his brain turn to liquid between his ears.

Sanemi falls back against the bed, bringing you with him, your back still pressed against his chest. He winds an arm around one of your thighs, holding it open to allow himself to continue fucking up into you with the speed of a racehorse.

“God you’re so fuckin’ tight — don’t want me to leave, do you, precious?”

He chuckles in your ear, catching your lobe between his teeth. His hand wedges between your thighs to play with your clit again, and the way your pussy flutters around him signals that you’re right on the precipice of your orgasm.

The first of the night, if he had anything to say about it.

“Maybe I should make you my own personal cocksleeve — would you like that, sweetheart?” You’re mewling, nodding frantically as you squirm and thrash atop him.

“Would you like to sit on Daddy’s cock all day, keep him nice and warm?”

“Yes!” You sob, and Sanemi’s fingers circle your clit even harder, determined to to make you cum. “Yes, ‘Nemi, please! I’ll be your good girl — I’ll be so good —“

Sanemi’s pace falters slightly at your words, a new idea — a wicked idea, forming fast in his mind. “You will, huh?”

He abruptly pulls out of you, though the anguished cry that rattles out of you at the loss of his warmth tugs at his heartstrings. After all, you’d been so close.

Sanemi wastes no time flipping you under him, hooking both your legs over his muscled shoulders until the underside of your thighs press flat against his chest.

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he shoves his painfully hard cock back into your pulsing warmth, his knuckles turning white under his grip against the rumpled blankets as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling of being sheathed back inside you once more.

“And you’re gonna fuckin’ look at me when i fill you up,” Sanemi snarls between ferocious snaps of his hips. “I wanna see that gorgeous face when I cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

“Yes! Yes s-sir.”

“Yeah? And who’s fucking you this good?”

“Y-you,”

He ducks his head down to nip sharply at your breast. “Try again.”

“You are — D-daddy,”

Sanemi’s pace only increases. “Still not what I’m looking for, princess,” he’s borderline cruel and he knows it, but he also knows what he wants. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

You don’t answer; you can’t, given how slack your jaw has gone, your mouth frozen in a perfect “o” as Sanemi pushes the head of his cock right at that spot deep within you that makes you seize down on him hard enough that he sees stars.

He growls your name and when you still don’t respond, he snaps his hips particularly hard against yours.

“Say it.”

His hand shoves between your bodies, and Sanemi pinches your clit harshly between this thumb and index finger.

“Sanemi!” You wail, writhing under him. His fingers rub soothing circles against your clit, though the relentless thrust of his cock does not ease.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, and the pressure of his fingers against your throbbing nub increases. “Now cum on this fucking cock.”

That does it.

Your back arcs sharply up off the mattress, thighs tightening around his hips as your cunt clenching around him with earth-shattering force. Sanemi feels a smug wave of pride as a surge of fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin.

You fall back against the bed, limp and spent, but Sanemi isn’t done with you yet; you won’t be, not until Sanemi has left his mark.

He shifts over you, his full weight pressing you down into the mattress; his hands pushing your knees up until they’re level with your chest. You sigh and hum, still wading through the haze of your orgasm, but given the way you let your thighs spread a little wider, you’re aware enough to know that Sanemi is readying you to take his release.

It’s not enough; Sanemi doesn’t want you lost in the aftermath of your euphoria — he wants you crying out for his.

His hand grips your face, your cheeks squishing together beneath his fingers as he forces your head to tilt toward him. Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused before the clouds part and your attention is locked wholly on him.

“Beg for it,” he grits out, his hand smacking against your clit until you howled. “Beg for my cum.”

“Please!” Your cry is shrill and desperate, your hands tightening weakly around his shoulders. “Please f-fill me up — oh, Sanemi —“

He nearly loses it at the way you say his name, like it’s some damn prayer and he, your salvation, but he holds back. It’s not enough — he wants you as filthy and wanton as him.

“Use your words,” his words leave him in a single, inexorable command.

Your lower lip wobbles. “Your cum — please, please fill this pussy up. Fill me up, fuck it into me —“

Sanemi cuts off your babbling with a single, bruising kiss. He feels his balls tighten, and the prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, signaling just how close he is to nirvana.

His hand finds one of yours where it clings to his shoulder, a fruitful attempt to anchor yourself, and he pulls it away. Sanemi presses your hand back against the mattress, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Your pussy flutters around him in time with your thumb stroking over his knuckle, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck —“ Sanemi grunts before he feels himself explode. With a strangled yell, Sanemi’s hips slam into yours, pushing his cock as deep as it can possibly go, and his release crashes into him with mind-blowing force.

it’s the hardest and the most he’s ever come in his entire life. Nothing else has ever or will ever compare to this.

But even as his release spurts heavily inside your honeyed core, Sanemi doesn’t relent in his pace. His hips keep rolling steadily into you, prolonging his release to the point his toes curl, and he wonders whether his nose might start bleeding.

The corners of your mouth tilt up, a pleased groan vibrating loud and wanton in your throat as you feel him fuck his hot seed right into the Eden of your body.

Despite the mind-numbing pleasure of his orgasm, Sanemi won’t let himself look away. The face you make as he fills you up is the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

Sanemi stays buried in your heat for several more moments as he comes down from his high, his head dropping into the crook of your shoulder. With a grunt, he pulls out, dropping down next to you in a flurry of messy blankets and pillows.

You push yourself to your side, a hand coming to push the sweat-dampened ends of his bangs from his eyes. “Good birthday?” You tease, your cheeks flushed bright red, your eyes bright.

“The best,” Sanemi agrees, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail of you and your post-sex glow to memory.

The two of you lay next to one another for a little while, talking and quietly laughing. Neither one of you seems eager to leave the bed, and Sanemi in particular finds himself hoping today never ends.

Eventually, nature calls and he excuses himself — reluctantly — to the bathroom. When he emerges, he’s greeted with the sight of your ass, bare and exposed as you nestle into the bed, one leg kicking lazily up into the air behind you.

Fuck, you’re too beautiful, and he is far too weak.

He approaches the side of the bed, stretching out one hand to drag teasingly down your spine, until he reaches your ass, knuckles kneading the soft flesh.

His eyes flit to the small clock perched on the hotel nightstand. Sanemi’s grin turns lupine as he reads time reflected by the green-tinted digits.

Sanemi’s fingers skirt down to your ankle, gripping it firmly in his hand. He tugs you over the side of the bed until your head dangles off the edge, your hair stretching towards the ground. “Looks like it’s still my birthday, darling. I ain’t finished enjoying my present yet,” he grips the base of his half-hard cock and taps it against your lips. “And I’ve been dying to cum all over this pretty face of yours.”

—-

True to his word, Sanemi takes him time ravishing his birthday gift. When the clock on the nightstand finally reads 12:01 AM, he flops down next to you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath.

You lay beside him, panting in tandem with him from the exertion of the night’s activities. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t sticky as a result of the heady mixture of your sweat and Sanemi’s cum.

You feel his eyes searing into you as you trail a finger through the milky white splattered across your chest — a favorite place of his to cum, as you’d learned, second only to spilling inside of you.

Sanemi hardly holds back a whimper at the way you bring it to your lips, letting your tongue lick your finger clean of his pleasure.

“You’re trying to drive me wild, woman,” he throws a tired arm over his face, shrouding his eyes. “You torture all your hookups like this?”

He’s surprised at how quickly you sit up in bed, your eyes flashing.

“Hookup?”

Sanemi props a fist under his cheek. “Well, yeah,” he winces slightly, searching for more careful words. “I don’t expect anything from you. I appreciate the birthday surprise, though.”

Your gaze is leveled, and your voice even. “I don’t buy lingerie for one-night stands, Sanemi. That shit is an investment.”

His eyes blow wide, and he feels the erratic thrum of his heart stuttering in his throat.

“I want you,” you say firmly. “And I had every intention when I followed you in here tonight for this —“ your hand waves back and forth between your chests. “— to continue.”

It’s a miracle Sanemi is able to speak at all. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grin. “Well, now that you’ve fucked me, I guess you should take me on a date.” You pause, trailing one delicate finger down his chest. “But I won’t make you wait until we’ve been on three before I let you fuck me again.”

Your hand dips below the edge of the blanket and glides teasingly over his cock, already beginning to stir once more. “You’re far too delicious.”

Sanemi snatches your hand and rolls you under him before you can blink, your answering giggle the sweetest music ever to grace his ears.

“Y’know, in other parts of the world, it’s still the 29th,” he murmurs huskily, grazing his lips against yours. “So by that logic…”

You nod, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. “We’re obligated to keep celebrating.”

Sanemi’s lips are already trailing down your body, savoring the taste of himself on your skin. He settles back between your legs, marveling at the way your thighs fall to the side so easily to accommodate his mass.

He presses a sweet kiss against your clit. “You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you, darlin’?”