#let alone actually put it on a canvas

[farthertothemoon]

I want to draw but I have no motivation and no ideas so uhhhhh

Anyone who knows my characters got any kinky snz ideas I could do for Rari or Arda? (Rari is the half dragon guy with a generally sensitive nose and Arda's the human monhun hunter with feather allergies if you haven't seen them but wanna suggest something anyway)

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Class 1A boys random headcanons ──☆*:・ﾟ

MHA

Summary: random thing they do or say as your boyfriend*.•

Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!

IZUKU~

He tries making you food just to be nice, but he doesn’t really know how so he just brings you something easy like instant noodles and say “it’s the thought that counts!”

He use to be insecure of his freckles and the only reason he isn’t now is because you kiss them all the time!

he draws you all the time, he hangs them all up in his room so when you hang out with him you tease him about being so obsessed with you which he blushes too

He lets you put his fluffy hair in pigtails sometimes!

He does a stupid dance everytime he beats you in something, a game, a training exercise or something like that. You say it’s cute which makes him flustered~

KATSUKI~

Claims he doesn’t cry at all but in reality he cries in front of you all the time, and ONLY you

He has some hearing loss from his quirk so sometimes he doesn’t hear you walking up to him so you have to kiss him to get his attention

He kisses the back of your hand, not to be a ‘gentleman’ or anything he is just too timid to kiss your face sometimes

His face is always so stern but when you two are alone his face soften SO MUCH. It relaxes into a small smile when he is alone with you

He lights candles for you with tiny explosions, sometimes it doesn’t work and he gets embarrassed for failing so he will just melt it instead! (You don’t really care but if you did he would get you a new one)

SHOTO~

he also lights candles for you, and it actually works. So he gets a bunch of candles for you just so he can light them all for you. He threw away your lighter so you have to ask him

He heats up his hands ever so slightly when he touches you to warm you up. You call him your heating pad LOL. He also gives you massages after training with warm hands as to not hurt you

He normally doesn’t want to even mention his scar but with you he literally asks to kiss it when he feels down about it~ which you always do!

He lets you paint his nails, he also does not care what colors. He just likes spending the time it takes to paint them with you, he normally gossips with you while you paint them~

TENYA~

whenever he is talking to you he sometimes gets so comfortable to the point he will speak incredibly fast! You have to put your hands on his cheeks and tell him to slow down

He reads to you, even if you say no he does it anyways. He says it’s for learning purposes but in reality he just wants to spend time with you

He tries showing off his intelligence with you. “Give me any equation and I am confident I will know how to solve it!”

He sometimes forgets he wears glasses, he falls asleep with them on sometimes so you have to take them off for him. Sometimes he puts his head in your neck but his glasses get in the way which makes him whine and tear them off so he could actually cuddle into you~

He’s so proud of you sometimes he brags about you at random times. “Have you seen y/n? Yeah we are DATING!”

EIJIROU~

He wants to give you love bites sometimes but he knows his teeth are sharp so he’s scared too

His quirk sometimes makes his hands and arms dry from overuse so he asks you what to do about it and you told him to just try moisturizer. he made you put it on him because he likes your warm touch! (Not in a weird way!?)

He lets you draw on him, it doesn’t matter if your bad at drawing or not he likes being your ‘canvas’ he says. As long as you let him draw on you too. It’s normally just dumb faces like ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ or something like that LOL

He is SO WHINY, like extremely whiny! Even in front of his friends, if he wants something from you he’s gunna whine till he gets it. “Y/NNNNNNNNNNN GIVE ME A KITHHHHH” “dude lower your voice people are gunna thing your weird *kiss*”

Whenever he is yapping to you about god knows what he sometimes stutters unintentionally which makes him stop talking for like 5 minutes due to embarrassment. “So t..th.Then…..” “Uhm you ok?” “…” “Your not gunna talk anymore huh?” “*Shakes head*”

DENKI~

he pulls the dumbest faces and then asks you if you still think he’s cute- like “hey y/n am I still cute?(o_O)” “no you look dumb stop it” “fine…”

He shocks you but not on purpose, in general he has so much static electricity coming off of him that he can’t control so sometimes if you reach to play with his hair you’ll get shocked. He apologizes over and over and ‘kisses it better’

He lets you put make up on him, you don’t even have to wear make up yourself and he’s down. You make him look like a princess and he loves it- “I’m beautiful!!!”

He’s very needy which is obvious. He gets so needy for attention that sometimes he will just follow you around school waiting for you to atleast hug him~

SERO~

He loves arts and crafts (LOL) he likes making home made cards for you instead of buying them from a store. He also likes building things with you like bird houses n such. He’s a great tape dispenser so he’s good at it☺️

He’s really good at puzzles so if your doing something like a rubix cube or just a normal puzzle and you get stuck he always helps you!

He leaves love notes for you everywhere, in your bag, on your desk, in your locker or even in your books. He isn’t the best with words but it’s still cute that he tries

TOKOYAMI~

He gets jealous of dark shadow, he always makes you laugh. So in return he banishes dark shadows for a while so he can have alone time with you (aka to cuddle)

He drags his beak through your hair instead of playing with it with his hands, he basically preens you but refuses to admit that’s what he’s doing-

He’s insecure, it is kinda weird that he has a bird head but you don’t let that get in the way. You cover his beak with kisses hoping it’ll make him feel better

He made you a necklace out of one of his feathers, now you wear it everywhere and people either think it’s adorable or cringy

I’ve said it before he is really fluffy so whenever you cuddle you start playing with his feather. He says he doesn’t care but if you don’t he begs you to. “Can you? You know?” “What” “You always play with my feathers?” “Aww you want me to play with your feathers!?” “Yeah.”

AOYAMA~

Behind closed doors he ditches the whole self centered thing and is fixed onto you. While you guys cuddle in privet you could hear him saying “you are so very dazzling! Just as much as me~” or “you are like a shining star! So pretty…” (out of character again but IDC I headcanon him to be a sweetheart!)

Whenever he gets a stomach ache from overusing his power he MAKES you give him a tummy rub, he will force your hand above his stomach and wait for you to sooth him

He wears make up so he lets you do looks on him. If you do good enough he will wear it for the day but most of the time it doesn’t meet his standards LOL

Similar with nails, he lets you paint them whatever color you want and he will keep them on. He doesn’t care as much abt his nails then he does his face-

He loves when you play with his hair, like really loves it. Whenever you play with his hair or give him a scalp massage he just sits there like ^0^. Seriously his mouth will hang open without him realizing. You have to close his mouth manually with your finger

OJIRO~

He lets you play with his tail, you just pet it whenever you want but you have to be careful because his tail is a little ticklish. He will swat you away if it starts to tickle

He Carries your bags for you, he’s a gentleman like that! he does it just to be nice but if you insist on carrying them yourself he won’t stop you!

He sometimes jumps into your arms, as a ‘joke’ which is a lie. Sometimes he just wants to be in your arms! He also finds it hot that you are strong enough to hold him~

He likes when you guys match! Clothes or shoes n such! He thinks it’s cute and we wants everyone to know that y’all r dating!

SATO~

He finds it hot when you call him ‘big boy’ he understands that you don’t do it to shame him but it’s more to flatter him. Like you’ll be having a light breakfast and after he finished he was still hungry so you tease “oh we gotta get more food in you big boy~ wait here I’ll get more!” He blushes so hard over it

He crams his head under your shirt when cuddling, he just likes laying on your stomach ok!

He is a little insecure about his looks, and he is very honest with insecurity so he will just confront you like “y/n I don’t think I look that good today…help?” And you’ll do everything you can to help

Whenever he is injured he milks it so harddd, he will ask you to get him a blanket, or help him eat. “Y/n could you feed this to me? I’m too hurt…” “your arms are fine?” “I know”

He’s the kinda guy to peak over your shoulder while your doing something because he really wants to be apart of it but he’s to scared to ask😭

SHOJI~

The first time you saw his face he was soooo insecure it was really sad, everytime you asked he when like “I don’t think you want to see…this” or “well y/n it’s obvious it isn’t going to look good, it’s probably gunna freak you out”. When he finally did show you he was shocked when you pulled him closer claiming you wanted to “admire his beauty” closer~

Cuddling with him is the best!! He makes a little cocoon around you with his arms! Unless you want to hold him which he also loves!

He insists on holding things for you, everytime you say “I wish I had more hands” he goes “luckily I do!” And takes everything out of your hands

He gets cold easily so sometimes when y’all cuddle he gets freakishly cold and you have to bundle him up like a burrito. You cry over how cute his looks with his mask off in a burrito blanket <3

KOJI~

He talks to you on a regular basis but he almost always leans into your ear, cup it with his hands and whisper instead since he is still very shy, unless you guys are completely alone. Even for the simplest thing; “y/n…do you want water?” “Speak up babe-” “*squealing noise*”

Compliments kill him, like actually last time you called him cute he fainted

He asks you to deal with spiders in his dorm or anywhere. You capture them and release them tho because he feels bad if you just kill them

He leaves you flower petals in random places, you could be looking through your books and notice a flower petal in between two pages~

He back hugs you to cuddle, he’s to scared to be face to face and he’s scared he’s gunna hurt you somehow? You assured him he will never hurt you which makes him feel a little better

Wsg yall!!!! Anywayyyys Next post prob gunna be class 1B cuz again they need more attention 😔

Not proof readdddd!!

[gi4hao]

the idiots you date — x. minghao

roommate!minghao x gn!reader

word count: 1k

genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)

“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”

minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.

you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.

“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.

“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.

although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:

“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”

“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.

you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.

living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.

there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.

“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.

your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.

with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.

“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.

his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.

“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”

“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”

“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”

he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:

“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.

“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”

you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.

but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”

a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.

your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.

but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.

“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.

in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.

“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”

“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”

-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!

masterlist here!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.

He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.

It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.

With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”

He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”

“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”

He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.

“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”

“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”

“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”

‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”

“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”

Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”

They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”

“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”

He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.

“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”

They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”

He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.

[vasiktomis]

Reverse Psychology (Reigen Arataka x GN!Reader, 18+)

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~2400. Tags/Warnings: No use of Reader pronouns. Negging. Office Sex. Pining. Service Submission. Confessions. Doggy-style. Creampie. (and it isn't a vasiktomis work without) Premature Ejaculation. Consensual Non-Consent. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“I’d had my suspicions, but I didn’t — ah — realise you were this into me.”

He’s such a loser, you think, gasping as he gracelessly gropes and grabs at your waist, your hips, your thighs. He’s such a scumbag. You want to bash his skull in. He’s adorable.

You won’t lie; you know he’s overestimating your infatuation with him. You’re sure he doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying — it’d just be mighty convenient for him if you believed it. Even when he’s got you pinned to the wall, body flush against yours, panting into your neck while he tries to recover from getting too lost in feverish kisses, he can’t drop a con when the opportunity presents itself.

Lucky for you, you know him too well to feel hurt over it, let alone fall for it. It’s always been like this between the two of you; Reigen, in all his arrogance, negging the shit out of you for as long as you’ve known him. Baiting you into seeking his approval, his attraction, when all he does behind your back is stare. You’d been wise to it from week one, but you hadn’t realised how bad he had it until you’d paid him to house-sit while you were on vacation with friends last year. When you’d come home to respectfully watered houseplants and a hamper full of underwear that weren’t crusted with cum and shamefully shoved to the bottom of the basket when you’d left it.

You’ve known as long as he has that he’s wanted you, but its just too fun, watching him make a fool of himself while he’s trying to bait you into throwing yourself at him.

It’s the little things that beckon your attention, and he probably hates that. The sincerity and care that creep out of the cracks when his apprentices arrive in a less than stellar mood. The underlying consideration he puts into not giving a shit about you. He’d never buy you dinner, no fucking way, but he sure has a running list of all your favourite foods specifically so he can have you pressure him into sharing a cold mouthful after an unnecessarily long monologue about fending for yourself.

He broke first. You knew he would. Finally, after all this time gloating about girlfriends that don’t exist and shoving unwarranted dating advice at you, he gave in. At the most boring moment too — not even during a fight or while one of you were inconsolably crying. You’d just gotten too close on your way past when you were leaving the agency for the day, and he just broke.

It must be a blow, after all that work he put into the facade. You’d heard the resigned sound in his throat when he’d rounded on you, hands finding your shoulders, kissing you open-mouthed before you’d even had a chance to kiss back. It just wouldn’t be like him to let that image slide.

He’s bolstering his ego with all this dominance, and you’re happy to let him. If you’re honest, you kind of like it; letting him believe he’s fooling you. He’s taking charge, but the power’s all yours. It’s your decision to call him out whenever you like, and if he wants to spend the first shot he’s had at you lying, it feels only reasonable to make him work for it.

You give him nothing. A blank canvas to project onto and a tongue in his mouth in lieu of something he might be able to hold against you later.

It's perfect. He pulls back, delighted.

“God, I knew it. You don’t even try to hide it.” Reigen mutters, frantically tugging at buttons and fabric to shift his attention to your chest. The kisses he smears on your clavicle, your sternum, over the swell of your tits, are hurried and sloppy, already not quite living up to how cool he’s trying to play this. “I bet you’re already ready for it.”

Bad performer’s trick: rush you through to the sex so you never have to find out he’s terrible at foreplay. Or, maybe he’s concerned he can’t hold his nut long enough.

God, he must be terrified beneath that facade.

You just have to fuck him.

You reach down, fumbling with his belt, and he gasps, at least before he squashes the sound into an elated little laugh. “You don’t have to go so fast.”

And there’s the gaslighting.

You don’t slow, but he’s parted from you enough to give you the space to do what you need to do, unbuckling and unbuttoning and unzipping, all while keeping your eyes on his. You watch his expression cloud with something little less controlled. More sincere. Boyish. Then, you take your hands away, and his throat bobs. Nervous. He’s sweet, under it all. And so, so scared of showing it.

It’s a shame.

Maybe if you do this a few more times you could coax it out of him.

“You’re not gonna make me beg, are you Arataka?” You purr, watching a bead of sweat form and slip on his brow in the time it takes for you to be forward enough to call him by his first name. “After keeping me waiting this long?”

“H-how long?” Reigen chokes, barely audible. Then, he clears his throat. A second try, peppered with a cocky little smile. “How long.” He dips his face back into the crook of your neck, resuming his assault, picking a wise time to hide his face.

Your hand slips down the front of his pants, palming him through the fabric of his underwear, and his whole body jolts. “You tell me.”

It’s like he can’t get close enough, anchoring himself to you. He fumbles to reach you the same way, but the position is already awkward standing this close. Momentarily, he’s at your mercy. “I don’t know. A little above average? I’m not the kind of insecure guy who needs to brag about that kind of thing.”

He’s so full of shit.

You guide his cock out of his underwear. Nothing to be very impressed by. Below average, if you’re honest. Not particularly girthy, either, but there’s a pleasant upward bend you’re sure you could have fun with. A slick pearl of pre-cum forms on the slit when your thumb traces up his already tugging foreskin. He was ready to go before you even started touching him.

Who are you to deny yourself the enjoyment of watching him embarrass himself?

You take his hand, and he watches, transfixed as you spit into his palm before turning yourself to face the wall.

“That’s-...really gross. You should probably ask people before you do that sort of thing.” There’s a shudder in his voice as he chides you. A slick sound and a hollow inhale as he works your saliva over his cock. You ignore him. The quaver in his breath gives his excitement away, and you help shove down your pants just enough to grant him access.

Reigen struggles, of course he struggles to line himself up at first. He takes a moment to tilt his hips the right way, to tug at yours. When he sinks into you, it’s all the way, fingers bunching your shirt to push just a little further. Just to make a point of it.

He pauses like that, holding his breath, one hand cupped over his mouth as he cranes over your shoulder. Savouring the feeling as much as you are, you assume — at least before you feel his cock throb inside you, and his whole body goes stiff. A choked gasp almost makes it past Reigen’s palm, diaphragm quaking against your back.

He’s absolutely coming, and if you weren’t too proud you’d admit, the angle of his acceptable cock throbbing against one particular bundle of nerves almost has you dizzy yourself. Utter fluke. It has to be.

Reigen’s body slackens a little. The orgasm passes. In your periphery, just over your shoulder, he looks downright horrified.

“Did you just-“

“What? No.”

The mask is back on in an instant. Reigen’s hand joins the other at your hips. He pulls out halfway. Sinks back in. The slide is thick. Gathering around your entrance, smearing the crux of your thighs. God, even his balls are wet against your ass. Just how much did he nut?

It’s -…kind of hot.

“Are you used to your partners not lasting?” He asks. You look down, tempted to see if he’s managed to make a mess of your underwear, and the bastard’s fingers snap to your jaw, angling your face back up for a kiss. He’s desperate for you not to know. Fine. You’ll play along. “Eyes up.” He breathes against your lips, punctuating with a thrust before he settles into a rhythm in you. It’s adorable, the dominant act. You can’t wait to smush him like a bug. “I asked you a question.”

“Arataka.” You attempt, shocked to find yourself choking on the word as he keeps going, wise enough to know not to stray once he’s found a spot that you respond well to. “Fuck, I-“

“It’s okay, I know.”

Something awful and delicious shakes through you. That shouldn’t have had such an effect on you as it does. What’s this guy’s deal?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a damn clue. But he really goes the extra mile to convince you otherwise.

“You should — touch yourself.” Reigen grunts into your hair. “I don’t plan on finishing until you do.”

You wonder if that’s Reigen-talk for ’oh fuck I’m gonna blow again’. You wonder if you should take your time, just so you can find out.

Oh, but why would you ruin his good time? It doesn’t help that the idea of coming with him in you is a pretty enough thought that you’re doing what he tells you.

With only one free arm to cushion you against the wall while Reigen ruts into you, you manage to find enough space for the other to see to your own needs.

It’s humiliating, the sound that escapes you when your touch compliments his own. He must feel the same way when his breath hitches in-kind, groaning at the feeling of your own pleasure clenching around his cock.

“Keep talking.” You manage, burying your own face into the back of your hand. He’s too close. He’ll hear how much you’re actually enjoying this. He’ll see it on your face. “Keep talking to me, Arataka.”

“Fuck—“

Oh, of course he liked hearing that.

“I — I can’t —“ His words diminish to a whisper you’re not even sure you were supposed to hear. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do  all this to you.”

You can’t, either. And yet, here you are. Raising onto your tippy-toes, rolling your hips back to angle him deeper as if his balls aren’t already swiping you with each thrust. Big mistake, you realise. His cock drags against something that has you shuddering, hurtling toward your own end. There’s no helping it. No helping you. Not when Reigen’s arm coils around your waist, pulling you so close that you can’t chase his movements anymore. The other locks over your chest in a desperate embrace. He’s barely pulling out before he’s ramming back into you now, nearly folded over you at this point. Something drapes against your shoulder, and god help you, you surrender your bracing arm to grab at it, letting your face squish against the wall without anything to cushion it.

Your fingers wrap tight around that stupid tie, keeping his chin hooked over your shoulder. A yelp slips out of him. A new pitch. Your core burns from the awkward posture, from exertion, from the delight of having him come so undone by you despite all his efforts.

It’s —

“I’m close.” You pant. “I’m close — I”m so close—“

His grip on you is suffocating. Fingers wrench at your shirt.

Reigen lets out something akin to a sob. “God, please — I’m so fucking crazy about you. Please, come, please, please—“

It hits you without mercy, tearing through you with a helpless whine. Were it not for being sandwiched right now, your trembling legs would give out beneath you. Instead, you’re held in place by Reigen’s desperate little ruts, unwittingly drawing your orgasm out each time his cock hits that spot again, muscles chasing the motions. Constricting around him, spurring him on.

You’re shaking when it passes, paled thoughts only brought back to coherency by the increasing pitch of Reigen’s breaths. Mouthed words evolve into a barely comprehensible muttering of ’oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit—‘ before he’s finally aware he has the green light.

“Where?” He pants, “Where do you want it? Can I finish inside?”

Is this guy for real?

You can’t even form a response. You’re too busy drooling against the wall, face smearing against the wet spot with every thrust.

Reigen seems to take no news as good news. As if he ever had a choice. The pitch in his breath reaches a crescendo, and with your last rational thought, your last ounce of strength, you yank his tie, hard. His posture curls around yours, clinging to you with a delectable sound. His cock throbs again, and your face squishes into the wall even more as Reigen’s own legs tremble, forcing him to brace his weight forward as he empties himself into you.

For a while, he catches his breath, still holding you to him. You feel his lips ghost over the back of your neck like he’s considering a kiss — but suddenly he finds it too bold a move. He shakily steps back, and all of a sudden he’s folded onto his knees with a tired grunt.

Left without your counterweight, you sink to the floor with him, leaving a snail-trail of saliva in your wake as you slide down the wall and settle down. Weakly, you flip onto your ass, still too dazed to bother with the clean-up just yet.

Across from you, Reigen gingerly feels through his jacket pocket. "Great. My pants are ruined. You wanna go halves at the coin laundry?" The sweat stains in his armpits almost reach his waist, and his business shirt is so damp it's near-translucent. He can’t take his eyes off the cum that seeps out of you, onto the floor.

“That was a lot.” He comments, clearing his throat. He finds that cigarette and tucks the box away without offering you one. “Wouldn’t be surprised if that was like, two loads worth.”

You squint at him. “Man, would you shut the fuck up?”

[badlydrawnronpa]

hi anon ty for sending the message! I did look through their blog and they very obviously use AI - I would've published the ask normally to let other people know but I decided against it in the end because after a closer inspection I noticed that all commissions are fake (besides being fake art I mean) and they're not actually scamming anyone because. uh. literally most of the blogs I saw interact with them are empty rp blogs that are blatantly controlled by them and one of the commissions I saw on their patreon was for a defunct ohsc rp blog from 2014??? Which honestly was really funny.

so yeah, they're very much not pulling any money from that, and on top of it all they posted pics of themselves sooooo yeh, not going to blast them on a blog with a big following for trying the 'i dont use ai im a real artist' but ultimately not scamming anyone out of their money. They're also not the best at like... hiding they're using AI because you can see their traditional art in other posts, and the style or experience level doesn't match at all.

I will post some of their AI stuff underneath the read more and point out the inconsistencies tho, to help out other people in spotting out ai shit (esp non artists that might have an harder time figuring things out). If you find out the original user that posted these, please don't harass them, be civil.

BTW I'M SAYING THIS NOW: if you see something I point out and say ''ah, I do that, I'm in trouble" - no you're not, if you actually draw the stuff yourself. You can see when an artist's work (and mistakes!) are genuine. Beginner's mistakes can be made by experienced artists too, but if you look at their entire body of work you can see when something doesn't add up.

to start off, I saw anon calling them out on this one so I'm just reiterating some of the points, but here's some junko 'art' they made

when confronted abt it, they said that the fingers look weird because they can't control their shaky hands and drawing small is hard. anyway if you draw digitally you can zoom in on the canvas and work on a detail as big as you need, so that excuse doesn't hold

this other post was basically what made me just say 'yep thats ai' and it was just the second 'art' post I saw from them

while taken alone they could've been a little harder to spot as AI, with them all bundled together you can easily see they came from the same prompt; the user tried to justify the inconsistencies saying it was because they were 'experimenting' with the design of their oc and gundham's scar but I'm telling you now, no sane artist fully renders four pieces that are basically the same concept while changing the design of the character just slightly in every single one of them. anyway, here's the breakdown of every piece:

another that was way easier to break down because it's so full of inconsistencies the moment you really take a look at it

also let's be real if you render art like that you're not gonna put a bright purple unreadable text on your supposed vtuber "art"

let's end this with the AI "commission" that could be harder to break down as AI if seen in a vacuum now, shall we? esp because our friend, the fucked up melty finger, isn't there

I honestly had to look for a while at this one because if you had shown it to me and I didn't see the other stuff this person posted, I could've just chalked up a lot of these mistakes to human error. Tangents between lines, scribbles for details, forgotten uncolored sections is all normal stuff. BUT we know this person used AI in all the other posts, so we know what to look at:

again, some mistakes the AI does can be also mistakes actual artists do: be sure to check the other art the user makes before throwing accusations

they also posted a fake speedpaint that is so embarassing it made me laugh but if I start pointing out inconsistencies in an AI speedpaint we're gonna be here for a long time, so.

TL;DR AI 'ART' SIGNS:

The classics: hands and fingers don't make sense, there's additional weird lines and they melt into other part of the drawing

long hair strands and other long or flowy elements can suddenly disappear behind objects and not reappear where they should

jewels, intricate details, hairpins and other accessories bend and melt into each other and other part of the design

the resolution of the image is very low and/or grainy - a lot of artists post lower res pieces online, but again: look for a pattern and combos of all the other signs

inconsistencies between multiple art posts, character designs constantly being different, sudden art style changes - while this can also be found with real artists, this is an additional tell of someone using AI, when combined with the stuff I mentioned above. humans mistakes usually have a reason for what they happen, AI makes them because it doesnt understand what it's doing most of the time

[stuckinthesun]

༝༚༝༚ Tic-Tac-Toe ༝༚༝༚

Part 2

Black suit mod!Leon x fem!Reader

Leon masterlist

You hated these banquets, it was just a bunch of rich people trying to prove just how rich they were. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were childhood friends with the president’s daughter, you wouldn’t even be here.

Normally you wouldn’t be here, choosing to make some excuse to get out of it that Ashley would envy you for, but this dinner was an exception. It was to celebrate Ashley’s safe return home from being held hostage in Spain.

You’re here to support your friend, although she keeps being whisked away to talk to random people about her “adventure” like it was some thrilling vacation.

So here you sat, in the back of the room alone, with your own tray of champagne and a pen. What’s the pen for, you ask? Well, as you sat there, drinking and bored out of your mind, you looked down at your legs and realized something. The fishnet stockings you wore made for the perfect tic-tac-toe canvas.

And that’s how you’ve been spending the last ten minutes, playing a game of tic-tac-toe against yourself, when you hear someone clear their throat. You look up, a little sluggishly due to the alcohol in your system, and when you see who’s standing at your table, you’re eyes widen.

Leon S. Kennedy, aka the man who went all the way to Spain and saved Ashley, by himself.

You’ve met him before, briefly, when he first brought Ashley home, but you haven’t really seen him since. You were too focused on your friend to really register anything else.

But now that everything’s calmed down, and Ashley has reassured you that she’s alright, you finally take in the agent who rescued her.

And he looked… he looked good.

The man is wearing a three piece suit, the dress shirt and tie a dark grey and the outer coat a nice black, and he looked at you with amusement as he asked, “Are you playing tic-tac-toe… on your leg?”

You look down at your own leg, as if you needed to confirm that was what you were in fact doing, before looking back up at him, “And what if I am?”

Leon laughs, and it sounds so pretty that you instantly decide you need to hear it again. The man pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, “I’m not judging you, actually seems more entertaining than anything else here.”

“Ah a man with taste,” You say, and move your chair until it’s closer to his before propping your leg up on his lap, “Well then, Leon, X’s or O’s?”

Now it’s you looking at him with amusement as his eyes widen and flicker between your leg in his lap and your face, “You’re serious?”

“Very, now grab a glass and make your move.” You instruct, pushing the pen into his hand and grabbing your own glass before taking a swig.

Leon just looks at you for a moment, and then at the pen in his hand, and then your leg in his lap. You watch him with a raised eyebrow as he seems to shrug to himself, grabs a glass of champagne, down it in one go and then grab your leg, carefully drawing an X through a gap in your stockings.

You whooped a little louder than you meant to, making some of the guests nearby look at the both of you. Leon shushed you with a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth and you giggled, pleased with yourself for hearing that sound again.

Still giggling you took the pen from his grasp and looked at your leg, deciding where to place your move. Leon leaned over a little to watch as he said, “So this is gonna be really awkward since you clearly know my name-“

You let out a dramatic gasp, and look up just in time to watch him roll his eyes while fighting off a smirk, “You don’t know my name?!”

“You never-“

“Shame!”

“You never introduced yourself!” Leon defended himself, picking up another glass of champagne, “You just thanked me, hugged me and left!”

“I was a little preoccupied,” You glare playfully, drawing an O right next to his X, “My best friend just got back from being kidnapped, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m the one that saved her, remember?” Leon leaned closer and plucked the pen from your fingers.

You leaned in closer to, “Yeah, that’s why we’re both at this stupid thing, remember?”

His hand, that had stayed respectfully on your knee since he first touched you, slid a little higher. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers getting caught in your tights and his hot breath fanning your face, “So are you gonna tell me your name, or are you gonna make me guess?”

You smirk and open your mouth-

“Ahem,” The sound of someone clearing their throat startled both of you.

You and Leon jumped away from each other with lightning speed, so fast you about fell out of your chair trying to get your legs off his lap. When you looked up you saw none other than Ashley Graham herself, wearing a shit eating grin as she tried not to laugh.

“Ashley,” You greeted nonchalantly, raising an empty champagne glass toward her.

“Y/N,” Ashley said, unable to hold in a chuckle. You see Leon look at you from your peripheral and sigh, bummed you didn’t get to tell him your name yourself.

“Leon,” Ashley says then, and the agent sits up instantly, looking at the blonde girl, “My dad’s been looking for you.”

“Oh, uh,” Leon looked at you, and you looked back at him with a sad smile. He returned the smile and with a small sigh he stood up, “Right, thanks Ashley.”

“Of course, bye Leon.” Ashley smiled knowingly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the agent blush.

“Bye. It was nice to officially meet you, Y/N.” Leon said, giving you one last smile before walking away, leaving you with your friend.

“Why do you have X’s and O’s on your leg?”

…and ink on your leg.

I found the picture on the right and just knew I had to write something

[husky-studies]

Dr ratio with a child reader that is like ena or shiho? (Platonic pls! Angst and fluff is fine)

Concept: Dr Ratio with a Ena!Child reader

Warning(s): relationship between the character and the reader is STRICTLY platonic, angst at the start and bit of happy ending

Notes: YESSS ANON!! I took the inspiration from the Ena focus event, this seems a bit rushed but hope you enjoy it! 😭😭

He has been observing for so long. Observing you, doing a painting for your assignment. You look frustrated to say at least, by your latest assignment given by your teacher. The sketch looks roughed up with smudges of graphite are littered here and there. Your paint sits to your right, the tubes of paint sealed tight in their respective colors and you haven't opened any of them. You sat on your chair still unsatisfied by your sketch.

Just went you wanted to erase the whole sketch, a hand touched your shoulder. Looking back, you forgot Dr Ratio was here with you. "Why are you erasing it? Your concept and sketch is good enough." He asked while looking at your rough sketch. "I think...the sketch is not good enough, thats why I'm erasing it." You replied, your grip on the eraser tightens.

"My teacher thinks its not good enough..." You muttered lowly. "Your teacher..? What did he say about it?" Ratio asked, curious on what your teacher has to say about it. "I need to add texture to this painting, I need to correct my composition, lighting and the list goes on." You replied, the eraser long forgotten in your grip. Dr Ratio's grip tightens on your shoulders, its firm enough to tell you that he's reassuring you. "You'll do just fine, don't let your teacher ruin it for you." He said as he walked away, assuming that he wanted to leave you alone so you can focus on finishing the painting before the due date.

——————————————————————

He was waiting for you at your usual spot to see your results but, you haven't showed up. Classes shouldve finished hours ago. Actually, you shouldve gotten your grades a few days ago, but you haven't showed up afterwards. 'Did something happened to you?' He thought, a bit concerned but he trusts you to be able to handle yourself.

Finally, he saw you walking in. You looked...sad and you're not holding your usual things with you as well. "[your name], how did it go?" He asked while offering you to sit at your usual seat as you do your art assignments. You let out a sigh, "Everything's wrong, the teacher said theres no feelings in it, the lighting is too dark and what not." you said as you sat down putting your bag aside as you stared at the blank canvas, your back facing the doctor himself.

Before he could open his mouth, you asked him "Doctor...is it really worth continuing this path im walking down? What if art is not meant for me?" He listened to your questions, thinking the right answers to your questions before letting out a small exhale. "Only you can decide that [your name], you have chosen this path and its what you're passionate about. Keep walking down the path, don't run away even if it hurts." This is the only thing he could say for now, not really sure if you're going to take his words wrongly.

"You'll have to face the criticism even if you won't like it. Life is just like that." He added as he looked at you. You looked like you were about to cry but at the same time your eyes held a determined look. A look that wants to keep pushing forward, no matter how many criticism were fired their way. "...thanks doctor, I really needed that. I'll keep pushing..!" You said, smiling at him through the tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. 'His words are sharp...exactly how my teacher sounded, but no matter. I won't give up so easily now' You thought to yourself as you felt a hand patting the top of your head. The famous Dr Ratio was giving you a headpat huh? "Don't go back on your own words now." Ratio reminded. "I wont."

Mention(s): -

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Animal - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

It's here, besties! :D Hope you like it!

Words - 2,380

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I want you, Luca. I want you in every single way a woman can enjoy a man. I want your mouth all over me, your hands to touch every last inch of my flesh, to paint your pleasure across me like I’m a canvas, until every colour in the palette runs into the next. I want you to fuck me until I’ve no voice left, until I’m trembling and gasping for breath, until I’m begging you to stop, but pleading with you to keep going all at once.  

I want you to be rough with me, wrap my hair around your fist, fuck me brutally from behind until I gush all over your beautiful, perfect big cock. I want you to turn me over and fucking choke me on it, fuck my mouth until I gag and spit on it, making it wetter before you tell me that I’m you’re dirty little puttana and you love me for it. You know I’ll swallow every goddamned drop when you finally come for me, too. 

In short, my darling, I want the kind of sex that would make half the barbarity in the Old Testament look tame. Hurry, lover. I miss you.” 

The note fluttered from his grasp, a wide-eyed and very, very hard Luca lost to a sexual daze, the near ever-present toothpick in his mouth dangling from his lower lip. “Is this broad for fuckin’ real?” he whispered, wondering how in the fuck he was even meant to stand up after reading that, let alone put one foot in front of the other and then drive a car without crashing it.  

Not only had you told him how heavily your want was stirred for him, you’d told him in the dirtiest, yet most poetic way he’d ever had a message conveyed to him. He isn’t sure he wouldn’t have suffered a heart attack, had you actually whispered those words in person.  

He can, however, muster the strength to rise and, with trousers entirely too tight due to the colossal erection your words have left him with, walk somewhat awkwardly to the telephone.  

“Is that my insatiable Italian? 

“You’d be real embarrassed if it was your mother calling you right now, huh?” he drawls, rolling his toothpick over his lower lip with this tongue.  

“But it isn’t, so I’m safe,” you chuckle, “So, how can I help you? I take it you found my reading material?” 

“I did,” he confirms, “and how you can help me is getting over here right fuckin’ now. I’ll send a driver.” He hangs up before you can confirm your presence, knowing that just by the sultry tone of his voice, he’s tightly wound, and a tightly wound Luca is never worth missing out on.  

After all, watching him unravel is half the fun of doing the tight winding in the first place. 

Upon your arrival, you find him reclined on the sofa, long, lean legs spread, a hand rested to his thigh, index finger pointing very deliberately at the giver of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever received.  

“You called?”  

“And you wrote, didn’t you?” he smirks, looking you up and down. Oh, you’re in trouble now, the absinthe green glint of his eyes conveying a weight that should topple your nerves, yet it only serves to electrify. “Yeah, doll. I’m only surprised the paper didn’t fuckin’ catch fire.”  

Lifting your chin, your grin is all self-satisfied accomplishment, knowing that you've stirred the beast in him. It only ever prowls just below the surface, though, awakened at a moment's notice. “So, now I’m here?” 

He rises from the sofa, sauntering to you while reaching into his pocket, the press of his thumb releasing the long, sharp blade, the flick knife brandished. “Now the fun begins, baby.” Reaching you, his hand grasps your jaw, fingertips indenting your flesh, the precursor to a slow, sumptuous glide over your anticipation-riddled skin. Clutching your dress, he brings the knife up, slicing into the fabric, his hands grasping to literally tear it open.  

The sound runs sharp beneath your skin, sends flint strikes through your blood, the cold of the blade dragged into your cleavage before he cuts your bra from you, your undies next on the path of destruction. Stepping from your shoes, the floorboards beneath your feet feel cool in contrast to the inferno of his stare, Luca casting the knife aside, his long arms snaking around you as he puckers a searing kiss to your sternum, descending slowly as he drops down to kneel before you.  

“La mia dea,” he whispers, pressing a kiss upon your pubic mound, hands smoothing down deftly over every rise and fall of your body. “You should know you’re the only woman in the world I’d gladly fall to my knees for.” Lifting your thigh to rest over his shoulder, he runs his tongue up it in a in a languid glide, teeth closing in a sharp bite. “But that don’t mean I’ll fuckin’ go easy on you, though.”  

You’d expect nothing less.  

Letting the heat of his breath flutter over your sex, he teases you with the promise, tongue touching his top lip momentarily as he leaves you teetering on anticipation. He strikes like a viper, mouth wrapping around your slit and sucking with a hungry grunt, knocking the breath from your lungs. His hands glide down your back, resting on your bum, squeezing the rounded orbs in his big hands as the flat of his tongue seeks the pearl of your clit, beginning to work in a side-to-side beat.  

The fever he evokes rises like a summer storm, a swirling tempest of wet dragging against you, his piercing, green stare defying you to look away as your mouth drops open, a shrill cry shattering the silence of the room. Your hands move, one reaching to grip his arm, the other sliding into the silken raven of his hair, grasping, tugging hard as your hips begin to weave against the relentless beat of a very hot, very eager tongue.  

He has you clasped hard, but balanced upon one leg you feel precarious already, teetering, the pleasure beginning to throb strongly through your core, a grunting rumble from your lover causing a fierce prickle to jab against your insides. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted, getting to feel this pretty little cunt drip all over my tongue.”  

His hands continue to knead at you as his tongue drags down, pushing against your streaming little hole, the hook of his nose rubbing over your clit as he tongue fucks you with aplomb. A hail of pain meets your skin deliciously when he releases his grasp, hitting the round of your bum with a spank so hard, your eyes water. Another and he has you mewling, a third and you’re crying out in rapture, the honey of your cunt flooding his mouth, Luca licking your slow and firm back to your clit, wrapping the throbbing little bud in a hard, unrelenting suck. 

Your stance falters, and his hands clench at you, arms tensing as he keeps you upright. He might be skinny and lithe, but lord, he’s deceptively strong. He pulls you against the ferocity of his mouth further, tongue working you harder, meeting your gaze with a wink that sets the sparks in your belly to burn.  

The heat of his mouth suffuses through to your very marrow, builds rapidly like a supernova, the black holes of his inked pupils devouring the lush green as he watches you falling apart for him, being remade around the rapid, carnal beat of his tongue. The sensation of it sends tiny arrows darting through you, a mist of heat radiating your spine as you pant, your clutch within his hair and upon his arm tightening as you rock against each lick.  

“Fuck, Luca!” The words are torn jagged from your throat, chest heaving as it hits you in ceaseless waves. He groans as you trickle into his mouth, drinking the undoing from you as you cry out, every colour illuminating, throwing your head back and submitting to the never-ending inferno darting over your nerves. 

He releases your leg, letting your foot return to the floor, but holds you tight in his grasp, tongue gentling before kissing his way back up your shuddering body as he rises, the taste of your orgasm on his lips making your insides quake. You reach for his waistcoat, nimble fingers hurried in your quest for his nakedness, tie and shirt following, your diligence having him bare before you speedily.  

He presses a kiss to your neck, looking down at you with a mix of triumph and amusement. “Can you walk?”  

“Probably not,” you confess, watching his eyebrow flutter. 

“Fine,” he rumbles, making a circular motion with his long, outstretched forefinger. “Turn around and bend over.” You do as you’re instructed, anticipation ghosting your skin as you feel the heat of him behind you, Luca taking his cock and dragging it in tease over your slippery folds.

Sliding the head down to stroke over your clit, the lust tumbles through him wildly at watching your little hole spasm, pushing into you just enough to widen you, pulling out again and returning his cock to push against your bud.  

He did say he wouldn’t go easy on you.  

“Please, Luca,” you gasp, feeling him inch in again, no mercy given, leaving you empty once more. His hand weaves into your hair, an olive skinned, tattooed, gold adorned grasp clenching tight, pulling you flush against his chest.  

“You said that you wanted me to paint my pleasure across you like you’re a canvas, but baby doll, you know better than anyone I don’t paint within the lines.” His free hand slides up your body, grasping your breast, rolling your nipple in a tight crush between his thumb and forefinger. “Beg me.”  

“But...” 

“Ah, ah, cara mia,” he reprimands, yanking your hair so hard, the pain sears across your scalp. “Beg.” 

“Please, Luca.” Swallowing hard, your nerves buzz at the sensation of his cock sliding back and forth over your clit, keening to feel it fill your gaping hole. “Please fuck me. Please feed me every inch of that gorgeous, big cock. I need it. I need you. Please. I’m begging you.”  

He pushes forth once more, a few more inches stretching you out, his cock twitching against your walls before he leaves you bereft once more. “Beg again.” 

“Luca, I...” 

His hand meets your bum in a ferociously hard slap. “I said beg. Again.”  

Fire roars over the frost spiking at every nerve ending in your body, swallowing hard, your teeth crushing a bite upon your lower lip. “I’m begging for your cock, Luca. Please fuck me.”  

Again, he sinks back in, but this time you are blessed with every last thick, delicious inch, your walls stroked by hot, veiny hardness, the grasp within your hair released. His hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling back from you, until only the head of him remains. He lets you clench upon him, teasing you wickedly, forcing a primal groan when he fills you again with a sharp thrust.  

You expect him to continue in torture, but instead he gives you deliciously teasing alternation, pounding your heat rapidly one minute to slow right down the next. The thick head of his cock drags your wet plush slowly, so very, very slowly, sparks crackling, your heart thundering, his groans making your insides pulse with desire. 

It’s so good and he’s so thick and hot within you that you practically sob with pleasure, slow, slow, quick, quicker, slow, agonisingly slow, so quick you feel he’s going to go through you and then back to slow again, until he has you shivering violently before him. He roots himself deep into you, pausing, feeling you flex on him with greed, spanking your already stinging backside before slowly dragging back again, the friction delicious. 

He’s iron hard within your molten core, his tease giving way to speed and piledriving your slick with lethal intent, ferociously aroused. Your skin smacks together, his grunts peppering the air, drowning out the soft little cries you emit in response to this, a full-on attack to your insides. You feel as if your legs are about to give way, the timing perfect when he slips out, turning your body to throw you over his shoulder with ease, matching you to the bedroom.  

You’re tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, Luca grasping your ankles and hauling you across the mattress, plunging back into you while holding your legs high and wide, giving you not a single drop of mercy from the carnal, animalistic onslaught he delivers.  

Each speedily delivered thrust has you sparking, your walls clenching around the thick heat driving into you rapaciously, his cock pumping your release into you strongly, the waves beautiful as his lightning cracks your sky, your hands gripping the bedclothes beneath. He lets you cool down, slowing within you, enjoying the way your slick muscles feel as they flutter around him. 

It takes no time at all for the pace to be set to feral once more, holding your legs against his chest as he licks a circle at your ankle, marking the area he then brands with his teeth, virtually growling with incandescent arousal. His stare is broken by his eyes closing tightly, a string of swears gritted, pulling from your soaking cunt, hauling your shattered body to the edge of the bed.  

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” You do, his cock sliding between your lips, hand fisting tight into your hair and holding the back of your head firmly, hips beginning to pump against your face. “Yeah, that’s it, my dirty little puttana. Fuck, I love you.”  

He fucks your mouth like he doesn’t, hard, accerbic with you, making you practically choke on his cock until with a deep, guttural groan, he’s spilling into your throat, hot white swallowed down, just as you told him you would.  

“Mmmm,” you purr, after releasing his twitching cock, licking your way up to his neck, the black cross the focal point of your teeth. “If that’s what I get, I’m going to have to write to you more often.”  

[redheadspark]

may i have Benedict x reader from bridgerton with prompt #25

A/N - So cute for Benedict! Thanks for the request, anon!

Overflowed

Summary - Benedict knows how to make you smile

Warnings - Angst and fluff rolled into one :)

If there was one thing you loved about your life being a Bridgerton, it was how it was never boring or mundane.

It all started when you met your future husband, Benedict.  You both were attending art class at one of the most prestigious schools in the area, sitting side by side during one of the night classes and going through one of the lectures.  Benedict came from a wealthy family, prestigious family, which that had a major reputation for being well-loved and compassionate in charities and amongst other families.  You heard about his family for some time, though your family was not part of that circle since you were not well off.  In fact, you were attending the art school on a full-ride scholarship, not wanting to take it for granted and keeping your nose in your books and canvas.  But that night as Benedict plopped down next to you with his laptop out and ready to try, he looked over at you as you were handwriting your notes instead of typing it out.

He smiled, leaning over and saying in a low tone, “I like your handwriting.  It’s lovely,”

It was safe to say you are smitten with him from then on out.

You both sat together for the rest of the semester, learning about each other and becoming friends.  All of those rumors and stories that you hear about his family both seemed true and untrue.  He was kind, and humble in his upbringing and just wishing to be a better artist but not afraid to talk about his family and all of their endeavors.  He showed interest in you and what you liked about art, which pieces you liked and hated.  Although you were hesitant and wanted to keep your guard up when it came to letting in someone new in your life, Benedict snuck in always. 

Your first date was actually at the local county fair, Benedict asked you out after several months of building a friendship. It was surprising that he took you to a county fair, some of your other friends were already spewing theories about him taking you to a luxury restaurant or even on a yacht since his older brother Anthony did that with his now wife Kate. But not with Benedict, he would prefer to laugh with you and eat fried fair food and look at the street vendors.  

He made you laugh while attempting to win you a stuffed animal at the games, though you tried to warn him that they were rigged.  Benedict threw one baseball a bit too hard and almost broke the tent wall behind the plate that he was attempting to smash.  You laughed, the vendor scowling at him as Benedict took your hand and you both bolted before you were caught.  Benedict loved the sound of your laugh, he mentally would remember that moment for the rest of his life.  Throughout the night, you felt your walls coming down slowly with him and how he made you smile and giggle without you realizing what he was doing. Benedict was more down to earth than anything that night, then taking you to the local art show that was placed in the back of the fair.  

“I thought you would rather see something like this than at a fancy gallery,” He explained, you grinning from ear to ear as you both were gazing at the paintings and sketches from local painters and artist that were selling their art.  To think that he had all the money he would ever need, the reputation to be put in the pockets of people with power, but he simply wanted to be with you.

You shared your first kiss that night, his lips tasting of popcorn and soda pop.

Dating Benedict was both thrilling and intimidating at the same time. You were taken into his world, filled with wealthy relatives and charities that would sell dinner seats for thousands of dollars.  You barely had 1000 dollars to your name, let alone in your savings, but Benedict never minded it.  His own family was insanely sweet and kind to you, seeing how you made the artist in the family so happy and filled with joy.  Of course, they would tease you about his aloofness and his quirky nature, but you saw the same compassion and authenticity that was in Benedict in each of his siblings and his kind mother.  

However, you were a fish out of water with those dinners and events that you attended on Benedict’s arm.  The small talk with the fellow guests seemed forced and almost dry, Most of them were grilling you with questions about your own life, if you came from a rich family, or if you had any investments.  The pressure was a bit much at times, Benedict sensing it when you sat side by side during the dinners.  But the great thing about Benedict was that he would attempt to make you laugh during those tense moments, by any means necessary.  Comments under his breath, jokes that he knew were not great dinner conversation, his sense of humor was once again winning and making you come out of your shell a bit more.

Anthony could have sworn he saw you giggling and hiding your smile behind your napkin as Benedict whispered in your ear.  Anthony knew it then, you two were meant to be together.

Not everything was happy and positive with you two when it came to your love for one another. Because of your more humbled upbringing, your family bought of Benedict as dragging you along to use you.  It was hard to hear that from them, they all thought it was some kind of ruse and not real.  No matter how many times you defended your love for Benedict and told them constantly that you both were insanely happy together.  Even your ex was spewing hate on your relationship, which hurt a bit more since you and your ex were a bit sour together.  

But in the end, Benedict always came through by comforting you and making you feel safe.  He would constantly hug you and remind you that you were strong and adored, that you’d come so far in earning your degree and working at a gallery, fighting tooth and nail with your advantages and no leg up.  He admired you for that, and to see you feel defeated by others and their words broke his heart.  Plenty of nights were shared holding each other and talking through those bitter moments, it felt better to talk to him about it and get it off your chest than to hold it in.

And every time, Benedict would end up making you laugh and bringing you joy.  

“I think I found mummy!”  You looked up from your spot on the loveseat, holding an important letter in your fingers as your husband waltzed into the room with your 3-year-old daughter on his back and squealing in joy.  You beamed, watching your husband act like a horse and neighing as he was galloping around the small living room and your daughter laughing her head off with her ringlets dancing behind her.  

“Look, mummy!  Daddy’s a horsey!” She shrieked as Benedict was going in circles around your loveseat, you placing the letter on the coffee table and standing up with your hands on your hips.

“Quite the handsome horse too!” You teased, Benedict, slowing down and laughing as he stood in front of you.  Your daughter, Emma Violet Bridgerton, poked her head over his shoulder and you saw the same shade of green that her father had in her eyes.  She reached out to you with grabby hands, to which you scooped her in your arms to hug her tight, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling her arms around you.

5 years of marriage was no easy feat, but it was rewarding.  You both got married in the spring, then found a decent apartment in the downtown area that was close to the gallery you were now running and Benedict sold some of his work to get some money in your pockets. He would rather make money not by his name but by his art, using an alias with his art and not giving out his true identity.  It worked in his favor, his work being sold globally and making his alias a household name.  Your net worth grew, though tedious at times, but it grew nonetheless.  

So the news that you were pregnant two years into your marriage was a surprise, but the best kind since Benedict was over the moon at the thought of being a father.  Sure, he never thought about being a father so soon, but he didn't despise the thought of it.   Yet you were the one who was afraid of parenthood, mostly because of your own experience with your parents and how they were with you.  They were harsh, far too realistic, and at times brutal.  Did you want to inflict that on your own child?

“You are not your mum and dad,” Benedict reminded you one night as you two were lying in bed, you telling him what was festering in your mind and what you were fearing.  He had one arm around your shoulders, and his other hand was resting on your lower stomach while he was staring at you lovingly, “We are gonna love this baby and make sure that there is nothing but happiness in this home.  Plus, I bet you we’ll make mistakes here and there.  Especially me, I bet you I’m gonna put the diaper on the wrong way,”

You smiled softly, “More than once?” You asked to ask sheepishly, Benedict’s smile got wide.

“Are you kidding, over a dozen times at least!” He explained, you laughing as he went on, “And I’ll be singing to our baby with my horrible singing voice, you’re gonna hate it!”

As soon as Emma Violet Bridgerton was born, Benedict was over the moon in love with her.

“We were looking for you in hopes you were wanting to come get ice cream with us!” Benedict explained to you as Emma perked up and looked at you with her father’s eyes she inherited.

“Can we, mum?” She asked with hope in her voice, you eyeing her and then her father.

“Before dinner?” You asked in a joking tone, Emma giggling glee as you tickled her sides, “The scandal of it all!  What will the neighbors say!  We must get ice cream then since I have been craving chocolate!”

“Hooray!” Emma said in victory, the there of you walking out of the living room together as a happy family.  You left the letter behind, another disappointing letter from your parents who were reprimanding you for shielding your daughter from her grandparents.  But you were having none of it, you may have before when things were still tender with them. Yet not now, not with this life that was overflowing with happiness.  

The overflowing will never end, not if Benedict had anything to do with it.

The End.

May Prompt Session

[glassrowboat]

Can You Trust Me Blind? Dottore.

Summary: Dottore brings a woman home for the night.

Warnings: Smut, blood, Dottore

Word count: 2,100+

Hair twirled around his finger, spinning round and round in circles the same way Dottore would take his own bangs as they slipped out of the multitude of clips and pins he tried to use to wrangle them up and out of the way, only for those two strands to inevitably fall in his face again. It was annoying. A hassle dealing with it as he tried to scrawl out notes between the blue stands blocking his vision, but the locks in his hand seemed far easier to tame as he played with them.

Soft, well taken care of, and a complete mess as it sprawled out across the pillowcase. It wouldn't be a surprise if there was a knot or two jumbled up in there.

His fault, of course.

Dottore was the one who slid his hands into her hair, tangled his fingers in it like he was grasping at a knitted scarf being slowly wrapped around someone in the dead of winter as he tugged her head back. The length of her neck exposed without a hint of shame. A perfect canvas. Just like snow after it fell, painting the world anew.

Every footstep tainting the pure landscape that went on for miles.

To taint. To mar. To ruin.

The scent of perfume had overwhelmed his senses at the time, even had Dottore halting for a moment to burry his nose into her collarbone where she had no doubt dabbed it before heading out for the night. Flowery, feminine, with a faint hint of vanilla to it that was quickly masked over by iron.

Red on his teeth, on her neck, on the sheets below as he rocked into her.

A scream filled his ears.

This wasn't like him, taking a woman back home, let alone to his bed. It had to have been over seventy- maybe even eighty- years since Dottore had gone off and done something as stupid as this. Breaking all rules of common sense (something he had once considered to be a good friend of his) and welcoming her in with little to no trepidation even as the door slammed behind her.

She had looked around curiously, eyes going over the place like she was trying to suck in every last detail of the liminal space. He never was one who bothered with decorations, so there wasn't much to recall. Maybe a photo here, a trinket there, or a jar full of something no one truly wanted to question Dottore about. Nothing out of the usual for him. However, it was nice to see someone showing such a good trait, a healthy one in this wretched world, rather than glancing back at the door like they were already having second thoughts.

She wouldn't have even been the first if that were the case.

This woman had spent a good hour by his side before his sudden...impulse. Yes, that was a good way to put it, he thought as the strands of hair fell from Dottore's fingers.

One of Pantalone's parties Dottore had only agreed to go to because the banker had stuck his foot down and demanded that he come and talk to possible sponsors for the lab himself rather than having the Ninth do all the lip service. A shame, truly, seeing as that's what the man was best at. Might as well do what you're good for in this world. That's how Dottore saw it, anyway.

He had stumbled across this one along the way.

Dottore had been grumbling to himself about having to deal with it all, especially after having to explain the current project he was working on in a way that could only be explained at a kindergarten level of intelligence for the third time as this oaf of a man kept asking the same question in different ways (like changing the font would give it meaning anew), when she had made a snide remark as he passed by.

“I'm sure your little friend there is the type to attempt putting a square peg in a round hole.”

And oh, he couldn't have agreed more.

She wasn't a sponsor herself, or hadn't seemed to be one. Actually, she waved off most of Dottore's questions about her with what could only be described as practiced ease, instead choosing to fixate on his earring. Eyes locked on the thing as she tried to figure out what was in it. Making a guessing game of it. Primordial water? Sap from the leylines? Ligma? Gatorade? …Whatever that is.

However, she proved to be preferential company over the people who were better off waving their wallets in the air than even attempting to listen to his grandiose ideas. Not even the jingling of mora in hefty sacks had been able to keep him from sharing a glass of whiskey with her. The sound of ice clinking against glass and her voice proved to be far more entertaining.

Digs at Pantalone's ‘friends’ as the banker liked to call them, making fun of their outfits (mainly on her end), and insulting their intelligence proved her to be a great way to spend the otherwise dull evening.

Decent company.

That's all it was.

That's all it was supposed to be, even as she toyed with his earring like she had any right to. Blue light reflecting off her skin.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

Somehow, that hour passed by like it was nothing but a handful of seconds.

Somehow, he leaned in and kissed her as she was making another remark. Something about a Lord this or that ‘needing to let go of the fact he's bald, because we can all tell he's wearing a toupee’ when he could taste the drink on her painted lips.

Just like he could still taste her blood.

She had said right after “I don't think that shade is your color” with a laugh as her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. No doubt trying to smudge the lipstick off.

Dottore couldn't even recall his retort, no doubt he gave one, but right now his mind was running the same scene that just happened on his bed on loop rather than bothering to remember his own words. If it was truly important, he'd no doubt recall them later. After this film in his head stopped reeling, or the tape itself broke from overuse.

Thighs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tight between soft flesh he couldn't help but worry about bruising under his touch that was urging him closer and closer as Dottore filled her to the brim. Her nails dragging along his back. Hisses of both pain and pleasure bubbling in Dottore's throat as he slowly stilled.

Her moans bordered on pornagraphic as this woman apparently had no issue being loud. Much less in his space of all things.

Their kisses as she tugged him closer. Rushed, frenzied, even when he wanted to take a step back, a big breath, and truly savor this moment as her dress slid off and onto the floor.

It all reeled back to when Dottore stood before her with the cravat he usually wore in hand.

Blue fabric hanging in between them as he pinched it softly.

The reason he didn't even get the chance to see her eyes roll back into her head from pleasure alone.

Dottore was the one who slid it off his neck. Untying it the same way he did every night after being enraptured by his research for days on end before coming home and crashing into bed. A practice so well memorized he could do so with his eyes closed. Ironic, being he was the one to ask to blindfold her.

Half of a sentence was spoken before she just stopped to stare at the cloth. Eyes darted from him and back down to it in a repeated cycle until Dottore had asked the question again.

Louder that time.

Clearer.

Leaving no room for doubt.

“Is this something you're willing to do?”

She had stumbled over herself as she got out an “okay” and “yes.”

That had to be the least sure of herself he had seen her all night.

She hadn't moved much as Dottore slid the cloth over her eyes, only reaching her hand up to rest on his arm, fingers playing with one of the leather bands on his arm as he tied it in place. Like it made it easier to take her mind off the fact she was, quite literally, going into this blind as he made sure to double, even triple, check it wouldn't budge. Not easily, at least.

But still, she let him do it.

A neat bow sealing the deal.

The idea to joke she was like a gift quickly passed as her hand fell back down as the sound of Dottore's mask being placed on the nightstand filled the otherwise quiet space. A soft, subtle click. Only their breathing and that. Echoing as if it were pans clanging against each other.

“Is that why you wanted me blin-”

“Yes.”

What she was going to ask was obvious. After all, if he was in her shoes, Dottore very well would have done the same. Asked questions. Pried into matters that don't concern him.

Red eyes had bore down on her, blue cloth covering away the chance of seeing her looking up at him with the possibility of fear crossing her face.

No panicked looks. Not this time.

It was better this way, he learned. Less chance of someone seeing the scars that plague his skin and….this was why he typically preferred doing this with someone he already knew.

Someone who already knew what to expect from him, who wouldn't suck in a sharp breath as Dottore's hand slid along the curve of her waist to reach behind and tug the zipper of that dress down for her. The little tag between bare fingers as she spoke up again.

Good, she wasn't trusting him blindly.

Maybe she was smarter than he thought, but that doesn't say much when she's in his bed.

“You know, people usually go for biting and scratching instead of something like this when hooking up with what's essentially a total stranger.”

“Yet you agreed. Why?”

“I'm already here, am I not? Would be a real shame to blueball the both of us.”

How crude, but he couldn't help but to agree as Dottore pressed a kiss to her lips even while chuckling against her skin.

And another as he slid his tongue over her lips and pushed her down onto the bed. A small grunt came from her as her back hit the mattress. The zipper already tugged down as she tried to shimy the dress off even as the mattress creaked under her with every move. Old springs that needed to be dealt with.

At the time, he had wanted to promise not to hurt her, not in a way she wouldn't enjoy, anyhow, but now she lay beside him clearly passed out. She has been for the past two hours, thirty-four minutes, and forty-three seconds now. Her back to him. Moonlight peeking in through the window, leaving dust participles visible in the otherwise dark space as the beams shone down on her skin. Lighting up the tiniest bits of blood as bright as an apple seeped through the bandage he placed on her neck after she fell asleep.

All the more visible like this.

He couldn't help but trace his fingers over the cotton.

She really just let some stranger, a harbinger, him of all people no less, do that to her. To feel her pulse under his lips and still dare to break skin. To leave her in the dark as his hands wondered.

Either this girl was incredibly stupid or had no self-preservation instincts.

Maybe both.

For now, this woman was asleep. For now, he wouldn't have to worry about her reaction to what lay under that mask. The scarred man she chose to tumble into bed with. So, for now, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Dottore couldn't say he would be surprised either way. She sure did seem like the type that could go either way. Laying there like nothing was wrong even as he reached over her and picked up his mask again. Cold to the touch as a familiar weight filled his hands before it slid out of Dottore's fingers again as he set it back down on the table.

The scent of flowers, vanilla, and blood filling his nose.

He didn't understand this woman in many ways. A bit of a flirt, one who thought it far too entertaining to crack jokes, and who seemed all the willing to listen as he rambled on.

She stopped and listened to him.

And all Dottore could ask himself with this information was: what sort of woman was she that she would choose to lay with a monster?

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Crossed Lines

Some things are better left unsaid.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury, I'm sorry for this one don't hate me

Length: 3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You never really thought of Jungkook as the jealous type- and maybe you're interpreting his foul mood entirely wrong too.

But you've got a feeling that his clear displeasure is mostly due to the very tall and very charismatic Alien who's been all over you ever since you woke up.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't need help eating her food, Jin." Jungkook growls, eyes a vibrant green with a little red swirling around sometimes, as he watches you on the lap of the tall Alien currently feeding you. Jungkook's arms are crossed and he honestly looks ready to tear someone's throat out- and while you're still learning what the colors of his eyes might mean, you're starting to somewhat connect certain colors with certain feelings.

"Pah, just let me enjoy this before you take her away again!" The man named Seokjin whines, pulling you a little closer. "I can't believe you found such a sweet thing.. you don't even want her, just leave her here with me!" He complains, and Jungkook's eyes turn a little hotter in color, orange burning bright as his anger seems to rise. Why that might be you're not sure- you don't understand why he's not letting you stay here either. Seokjin seems like a nice person, and Yoongi, a cat-like Alien who'd taken care of you while you were resting, told you that the three of them are all very good friends. So why did Jungkook suddenly change his mind?

"Shut up." Jungkook barks under his breath, turning his face away. "…she can stay if she wants to. Who cares." He mumbles more or less, and at that, your heart skips a little uncomfortably. In a way, you knew he wanted to get rid of you sooner or later- but to hear it too, makes it all the more real. Maybe deep down, that small hidden innocence in you had thought he was warming up to you- but maybe that was just your imagination after all.

So you shrug, and look down at your plate of food, shaking your head when Jin offers you another piece to eat.

"I can't believe that you're worse than me, Jeon." Yoongi says, shaking his head in disappointment. "That was mean, even for my standards." He mentions from his spot near the only window in the small metal shed Jin lives in, his tail swaying a little. "Humans are sensitive. You can't just say things like that." He says, before he adjusts his position, crossing his legs.

Jungkook however just scoffs, and refuses to look at you.

You truly want to say something, but your voice just comes out horribly strained, making you cough- so you just leave it, trying to clear your throat, as Seokjin holds the inhaler you got from Yoongi to your lips.

Only that the hand is.. tattooed?

One look upwards and yes, there he is- it's actually Jungkook who acted so fast, eyes a slightly stressed pale blue, as he carefully helps you use the plastic container with the medicine inside, face a mix of worry and annoyance. You just let him, for now- and decide that maybe, this is his actual issue. You're now sick, you're gonna use up a lot more resources, let alone the cost of your medicine and everything. You're no use for him, only baggage.

Jungkook sighs, sits back down before he puts the inhaler away into his canvas bag. "If she wants to stay, she can, I guess.." He says, crossing his arms again. "If she wants to come with me, she can. It's whatever." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs to himself, while Seokjin chuckles.

"Well, I guess that's as much of an invitation as you'll get, little thing." He shrugs, looking down at you.

And this time, you don't feel like running after Jungkook like a lost dog.

So you just quietly shrug, and eat the rest of your meal.

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You're still hiding in Seokjin's bedroom, upset and saddened by the fact that Jungkook is truly preparing to leave you behind, when you hear someone walk through the pearl curtain that disconnects the bedroom from the main living area of the little house. "Here." He mumbles, throwing something on the bed- a plastic box, a rubber band around it to keep it shut, you guess.

You don't react, but you hear him sigh, as he sits down on the mattress, bed dipping down a little under his weight. "At least look at it, so I know I didn't buy the wrong shit." He huffs, and you roll your eyes, before taking the scratched up box, pulling the rubber band from it. And inside-

-are two, different colored knitting needles, a small pair of scissors, and two balls of grey, thick yarn.

"So?" He urges, and you can hear him play with the keychain in his hand a little. Is he nervous? Or just impatient?

What is he really thinking about you?

Why did he buy this, if he didn't at least mildly care about you?

You turn around towards him, and tap his shoulder to gain his attention- which you get, as he turns a little towards you- clearly caught off guard when you hug him. You want to see something- you need to check if your instincts are correct with this.

And when his arm- admittedly rather awkwardly- wraps around you and pats your back, you get your answer.

So you get up, put your clothes and the plastic box into a bag given to you by Jin, and stand by the pearl curtain quietly, nodding outside.

"Are you sure?" He asks, not getting up yet. "Jin's a good guy. Yoongi visits regularly, and he's got a human partner. Knows all about human health." He explains. "I mean, the planet's climate sucks, but it's at least somewhat peaceful." He says, and you just roll your eyes, and cross your arms. "..guess that's a no." He sighs to himself, though you don't miss the warmth in his eyes as he gets up, and takes your bag from you, walking out to say goodbye to Yoongi and Jin- well, mostly Jin. Yoongi just.. quietly bumps his head against yours and Jungkook's, before he simply leaves.

But Seokjin? He goes in for the hug, and it's honestly a little funny how annoyed Jungkook seems at that.

"You'll have to stay in contact!" Seokjin whines. "I need to know she's okay, and that she eats well, and that she's not getting lonely, or sad, or-" He rants, and Jungkook groans, clumsily taking your hand in his to pull you closer.

"Yeah yeah whatever, I'll look after her just fine." He argues, before he turns with you to walk off- letting you wave to Seokjin for a bit, before he tugs on your hand. "Look ahead. You'll trip otherwise." He scolds, though he keeps holding your hand-

The moment you're both back on the ship, he immediately runs an entire scan of the system and Ship's interior- telling you that he doesn't trust the mechanics on this planet too much, and that he wants to make sure they didn't leave anything here that doesn't belong. What exactly he means by that you're not sure- but after noticing how he even physically searches your room for anything off, especially the camera up in the corner, you're starting to have an idea of what he meant by that.

and it feels oddly kind, the way he keeps you both connected with a surprising tender amount of strength.

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"Do you want to stay here or come with me?" He asks, and you shrug, taking a blanket from the bed with you to instead walk closer to him. "…I really made you clingy now, didn't I?" He sighs to himself, looking at you a bit annoyed- though the faint pink-ish hue of his eyes gives you hope that he's just trying to act tough, and not genuinely upset over the fact that you'd like to keep him company from now on.

If Yoongi was correct, Jungkook simply has trouble attaching himself to others- the cat alien had told you that he didn't have the greatest upbringing, and that it left him with permanent scars.

Scars that one might not be able to see, but they're still there.

"Alright, let's see.." Jungkook mumbles to himself, as he logs into his system's autopilot, taking over the controls as he reads through all the info flying past on the screen. It's impressive to you how quickly he can seem to soak up any information practically flying past him, and it shows you just how long he's probably been doing this.

Yet, now that you think of it, you're not actually sure what exactly Jungkook does for a living, besides selling cargo here and there. But then again, should you really question it? He's putting food on the table, and gives you a safe place to stay. Better not ask too many questions, you tell yourself.

So you instead sit down somewhere near the windows, studying the pictures of the faded paper instruction manual that came in the plastic box of knitting stuff- the language foreign to you, though some words seem to click in your mind. It doesn't seem too hard to do, and considering that you've tried it in the past, it's not that difficult to pick back up where you left off years prior.

And the entire time, you don't even notice Jungkook occasionally watching you, the sight of you happily occupied with your new present doing something special to him. After all, usually, to his kind-

gifting things is considered something only mates do for one another.

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"Hey- come here for a second." Jungkook says one morning, urging you a bit closer as you enter the command center where he already sits in his usual seat, though he doesn't seem as relaxed as he's been these past few days.

Your throat has been healing well, and the entire ship by now is filling with your little animal shaped knitting work- one better than the last, after Jungkook had picked up some other colors of yarn for you at one re-fuel stop. It's been a good handful of days now- and you feel like you're actually getting comfortable with the Alien. "I'll be turning course today. I'm.. gonna leave you with Jin for a while." He says, and you instantly furrow your brows in confusion, unsure what's wrong.

"Why?" You ask, voice still a bit raspy, but it at least doesn't hurt as much to talk anymore.

Jungkook just sighs, looking away. "It's not for long, just a few weeks. I'll pick you up before the seasons change-" He explains, but you won't have it.

"That doesn't answer my question." You say, clearing your throat after somewhat getting that small sentence out. He runs his hands over his face.

"It's.. urgh, fuck!" He groans out agitated, and it's honestly both funny and a little unnerving to see Jungkook so.. embarrassed.

"I'm-… It's mating season for my kind." He huffs out defeated, arms crossed. "And since you're a female, it's kind of.. distracting." He explains, and you take that info in for a second.

And Bolku people are a proud but reserved kind, only really staying in pairs, never in groups. But Jungkook doesn't quite fit the visual characteristics, apart from his eyes- so maybe he's a hybrid too?

"Oh." You simply answer, unsure what else to say. Well, you didn't really think about that- but yeah, you remember reading something about Bolku people's.. well, mating traditions, so to speak. Not really because you ever thought anything of it- it was just interesting to find anything to read back on earth, and when you stumbled upon a common book about foreign galactic humanoid variants, you read through it.

It's how you know that Seokjin must've been some sort of human-Shairo hybrid; with his tall body and caring nature, but otherwise rather human appearance. The short, thick and scaled tail gave him away, mostly, and you read in your book back on earth how his kind has a problem with gender in their kind. They're mostly male- females are incredibly rare to be born for some unknown reason.

What's interesting now however, is how the past few days and Jungkook's actions during them, change in nature to you. The gift of the knitting stuff. The blankets he kept bringing to your room. The way he'd cuddle you throughout the journey through Cryon- all of it suddenly feels odd to you now that you know he's near his kind's mating season.

Does that mean that those weren't acts of kindness? That you weren't making any progress at all? That he was just..

..acting on instincts?

"I can just stay in my room again for the time being." You shrug, and he notices the way your posture and tone change. He's become quite good at reading your body language and subtle hints here and there- be it the tone of your voice, or the way you avoid eye contact, or how you'd change topic if he was to talk about something that made you uncomfortable. And right now, it seems as if he said something that made you almost.. defensive. And he's not sure what.

"No, I don't want to.. lock you in there again." He shakes his head. "You're not a prisoner anymore. Or anything similar." He denies.

"Then what am I?" You ask, looking at him- and he can't help but feel a little called out by you.

"That doesn't matter." He responds, but that's not enough for you anymore. You've become bold- mostly because you're not scared of him any longer, and because he's slowly, unknowingly, nurtured your will to survive back to life.

"It does to me." You croak out, coughing right after, making him cringe as his eyes turn a concerned blue hue. But he knows not to try and do anything right now- you're on edge, and he feels as if he's arguing with a cornered animal right now, any wrong move or word enough to set you off.

"Then what do you want to be?" He asks instead, making you look at him with a gaze that just screams uncertainty.

You don't know what you want to be. Especially not what you want to be to him.

When you came onto his ship, you didn't care what happened to you. You'd given up, you were ready to take whatever was thrown at you- but now you actually want to live. You want to be alive, and most importantly, you want to stay with him, and stay on this ship, and stay in this little space where everything seems okay. The amount of safety you feel here has spoiled you at this point, causing you to feel protective over it.

You don't want to stay with Seokjin, no matter how sweet and kind he is. He isn't Jungkook, and he isn't this ship.

"I don't care!" You huff out at him, moving to sit in the middle of the control center, grabbing your blanket before you throw it over your head, and hiding underneath it as you sit down facing the large window, face barely exposed. "I'm staying." You growl to yourself, and Jungkook can't help the slight amusement tickling in his chest at the fact that you're starting to pick up on some of his own behaviors.

Though your growl is anything but intimidating. It's cute, but nothing dangerous at all.

"It's just for two weeks. Three at max." Jungkook sighs, turning on the autopilot before he walks closer, tip of his boot gently tapping your back. "Hey." He calls out, but you don't answer. "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm not." You respond, pulling the blanket close so he can't see you as he crouches down next to you to catch a glimpse. "You'll leave me there."

"I thought you wanted me to leave you?" He wonders in an oddly soft tone, but you can't help but feel as if this too is just his instincts, and not actually him.

"Shut up." You respond, and he laughs.

"You kind of sound like me." He tells you, sitting down in front of you with his legs crossed. "Doesn't fit you- so stop it." He argues, pulling on the blanket- but you got a steel hold of it. "Come on, stop being a brat-"

"No!" You bark out, scooting away from him a good bit.

"I'll pick you up again." He sighs. "Promise."

"Your promise is empty." You mumble, finally giving in as he manages to pull the edge of the blanket enough with his fingers to expose your face.

"How so?" He wonders, face clearly confused, and somewhat upset.

"Cause you said it!" You argue. "I'm distracting you because you're like- horny or whatever. That's not you. And when your.. mating season is over, you'll just.. leave me with Jin." You say, looking at the ground.

"How come you humans always get so horribly attached to things so easily?" He mumbles, as if he's mostly talking to himself- eyes distant as he looks at you, hands in his lap. "Attach yourself to Jin. Not me."

"Why?" You ask timidly, unsure what he's getting at. You're not even sure yourself what you're thinking of him. You don't know why you're so attached to him.

"Because he's.. a better fit." He shrugs. "He's nice. Knows human social norms, since he's partially human as well-"

"So are you though?" You ask, testing the waters, and the way he tenses up, eyes flashing a pale, unreadable color, gives you the answer you were looking for.

So he is a hybrid too.

Suddenly, his face seems angry, jaw clenched and tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side, eyes a blazing red as he gets up and walks away. "I changed my mind." He says, tapping away on his control panel. "Go stay in your room or whatever. I don't give a shit." He growls, and for some reason, you suddenly feel guilty.

So you quietly leave, door hissing shut behind you-

before it clicks, small display near it offering only a single, pulsating message.

[Locked by Administrator]

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

[vodika-vibes]

Hiiiii!

Congrats on the 800 followers, it's awesome! 🤩

I'd like to request a Fox'ikaxReader (fem or gn, your choice 💗) with the movie marathon prompt, and let it be so fluffy like a cotton candy 🥺🥹💗

Thank yooouuu 🦊💗

Tonight

Summary: When you have to cancel date night due to circumstances beyond your control, you expect Fox to be angry. You don’t expect him to show up anyway.

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader

Word Count: 814

Prompt: Movie Marathon

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you! And thank you for the request! I hope you like it~

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You sniffle and bury yourself under another fleece blanket as you shiver.

It’s not fair. You had tonight's date planned for weeks, planned almost to the minute. And yet, when you woke up this morning, it was with a fever, a sore throat, and body aches.

Serves you right for ignoring your grandmother’s warning about her being sick and visiting her anyway.

And, while you were willing to take drugs and push through the illness, when Fox called you to ask when you wanted him to arrive for your date, he could tell that you were sick.

You didn’t even have the energy to argue against him when he told you that your health was more important than dinner.

He didn’t even sound disappointed, or maybe he did. Your head hurts too much to think about it too much.

You start when your doorbell rings. You’re not expecting company. Not anymore, at least.

But, even so, you roll off the couch and drape your fleece blanket around you like a cape, and walk over to the door. A press of a button unlocks the door, and another button allows the door to slide open, and you squint at the man on the other side of the door.

You really should have put your glasses back on.

Even without your glasses, though, you’re still able to recognize Fox.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, startled. Though you do move out of the way to let him in your home.

“I wanted to see you.” His reply is simple, “Besides, no one should be alone when they’re sick.” Fox holds up the canvas bag that he’s carrying, “I bring soup and movies.”

You blink at him, dumbly, for a moment. “You didn’t have to do that.”

A cool hand presses against your burning cheek and the noise you release can only be called a purr as you lean into the only comfortable thing you’ve felt all day.

Fox laughs, it’s a quiet and affectionate sound and you peer up at him. He’s standing close enough that he’s not blurry, and the look on his face—

Well, it’s reminiscent of the way that your dad looks at your mom when she’s not paying attention.

But you’re not quite able to handle that thought, so you push it to the side and focus on the more important comment he made, “You brought food?”

“I did.” Fox gently nudges you further into your apartment, “Go lay down, cyare.” 

Obediently, you stumble back to the couch and shove some of the many blankets to the floor so you’re able to sit on the actual couch. You grab your glasses and place them back on your face so you’re able to watch Fox properly.

“You’re sleeping on the couch?” He asks from the kitchen, where he appears to be sorting soup into two bowls.

“I tried resting in bed, but it felt like a boulder was lying on my chest,” You reply honestly. Though you regret your honesty when he crosses the room and kneels at your feet, his hand moving to press against your forehead.

“Do I need to call my medic to come and take a look at you?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

He doesn’t believe you but accepts your words as fact for now. And then he returns to the kitchen and grabs the two bowls before he returns to your side. “I bought it from a place not far from here.” Fox explains, “Just eat what you can.”

“I don’t think I can eat two bowls,” You point out.

Fox laughs again, “Well, good. Because one of those belongs to me.”

“You’re staying? I thought—”

“What? That I would drop off soup and movies and let you fend on your own?” You feel his hand smooth over your hair, and you feel a surge of affection for the man who hasn’t sat down just yet, “Just because we had to cancel our formal date, doesn’t mean that we can’t still have a date.”

Great, now you want to cry because of how sweet he’s being.

“You…uh…you said you brought movies?”

“Yeah, I raided Thorn’s collection. I haven’t seen any of them.” Fox lifts the small device, “Though, Thorn really only watches horror movies, I hope you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “You’re here to protect me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

Half an hour later, you’re sprawled across Fox’s chest while the pair of you watch one of Thorn’s movies. Well, Fox is watching it, you’re more asleep than awake, your ear pressed over his heart.

He doesn’t seem all that bothered that you’re covered in blankets, or that you’re not really paying attention to the movies. And his hand slowly strokes your back, slowly easing you into slumber.

It’s not the date you had planned, but somehow it’s so much better.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

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@falconfeather23435

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@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

[arcane-ruined-my-gut-flora]

Please tell me I'm not the only one who has problems with this season's pacing, especially act 2. I'm still enjoying the show but I'm so sad they didn't get more episodes to take it slow with the narrative, especially considering they're adding a ton of new stuff to the story and the lore.

Heavy spoilers ahead!!

I feel like Ambessa is taking too much space, for one. I love her, but with all her screentime she's not even doing much. We could've had more Caitlyn time, some introspection, a look at how she feels about her "relationship" with Maddie. Does she have nightmares about Jinx? Does she dream of Vi? Does she see Vi's eyes in Maddie's?

Or, we could've gotten Caitlyn's thoughts about Ambessa and everything she's doing. Does Cait feel guilty for endorsing her methods? Does she see some sort of twisted maternal figure, someone who guides her like a seasoned soldier while also appearing as an overall stable, mature figure she can rely on?

I'm also sad we didn't get actual Emo!Vi. On YouTube it felt like it was a montage of multiple scenes, but turns out that's all that there is to her. What's her relationship with Loris? What does Loris say about her declining condition? Does Vi see Vander in his face, in his company?

And don't get me started on Isha. I still grew to like her, despite the short screentime she has, but I feel like they wasted her by killing her off now in the last episode of Act 2. We saw her with Jinx, but not enough. Did Jinx flinch away from her in the beginning? Did she try to put some distance like she tried to push her off during the fight in Act 1? Did Jinx let her in begrudgingly, telling herself she doesn't want to curse another person but knowing she's actually curious and maybe even fond of her company?

And who the fuck are the members of the peanut patrol? We saw Loris, but barely heard him talk in the beginning. Vi would never open up to a stranger, let alone an Enforcer (even though it wasn't exactly clear he's one), but the first time they met and drank their asses off we could've had something meaningful. Loris asking a question that makes Vi think, maybe regarding Cait's proposition, or offering an external point of view whether it's to convince her to join or not.

Maddie does it, by mentioning the fight Caitlyn put up to get the badge, but some more convincing wouldn't have hurt. Vi is infamous for her stubbornness after all. And who is the other guy? I hope they'll come back in Act 3 with some more information, but even then it feels too late if you consider everything that's happened with Maddie and Loris off camera.

The Black Rose. That's it. That's my umpteenth problem with this season. I have nothing against this new part of the plot, it's actually pretty interesting, but it's clear we don't have much space for it with everything that's happening. It's cramped in there, it's the reason why we have so much Ambessa and so little Mel. It feels like we're watching two different series/seasons edited together, because the "arcane waking up" was pretty much enough of a twist for me.

The arcane waking up, Viktor becoming Jesus, Jayce becoming Judas. Yes, we'll see more in act 3, but it means we won't see as much of everything else as we could've.

This series was about Zaun and Piltover, about the collision between these two very different worlds that are also two faces of the same coin. We don't see much of the Jinxers and their rebellion, we don't see how Piltover is reacting to the new administration. We talk too much about Noxus and I don't feel the tension between topside and undercity even though it's theoretically growing to the point of snapping.

It's extremely sad, because season 1 left a brilliant, positive memory in my mind. Its writing was top level, and it still would be if only they had a little more time, a couple episodes more, a bigger canvas to work on.

I still love the show, I'm still in love with the characters and I know it's not complete so I can't judge it in a definitive way. Yet it stings.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it. 

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

[0xstarzx0]

FAULT |ONE SHOT|

Officer Rafe x Reader

{OPEN COMMAND (please 😔)}

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

synopsis: Even if it happened years ago, You haven’t forgotten and your boyfriend doesn’t intend to leave the criminals in peace

tw: smut, non-con, motion of sex, sex, Blame the victim, plush, mention of murder.

______________________________________________

________________________________________

In general you do not walk in the street so late, you preferred to stay at home and watch TV or paint. You walked aimlessly, your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took it putting strands of hair behind your ear.

He was a boy in your class you never talked to. "Walking alone on the street is dangerous, you know?"

When you finished reading the message, you instantly looked up, you started looking around. "Is anyone there?" You asked to hide the fear in your voice.

You started to write a message when someone caught you violently from behind, you did not have time to shout because, the stranger had already his hand on your throat and mouth.

The man was a little taller than you, his greasy brown hair and his mouth that had a mischievous smile. You look like a little prey that just got caught.

"You know my name, right?" He threw you against a wall in a little alley. You lied and nodded, his expression became firmer.

"You lie and you want to know why?" He tightened his grip on your neck, making you squirm in every way hitting his arm.

He approached his lips with your ear." Because the day I asked you out you didn’t know my name." He lets go of your throat." The day I asked you to give me a pencil, you still didn’t know my name." He starts unbuttoning his pants. "And you know what?" you start to cry even harder. then he starts to lower your tracksuit bottom." Tonight, I’m gonna make you so impure that no man will ever touch you again, baby I promise."

________________________________________

as he had promised, no man would dare to approach you, You were disgusting in their eyes, You provoked it is true, how could a boy like that rape a girl?? " He was too nice to do it." said some girls who went to classes together." She was just ignoring her, and anyway it’s good for her, he did the right thing to calm her down," said some guys.

You stopped going to college because of this, it took you three years of therapy to convince yourself that you weren’t the one at fault.

You sort of moved on in your own way, Drinking was one of the easiest ways. But instead you comb. You express what you felt while painting.

You even tried to make friends, and you did.

Stella went through the same thing you did, except she joined the police. For her to put swelling behind bars was the most important thing.

And one night when you were waiting for her at her place of work, she came out, you started walking towards her when a man and went out and stood next to her and said nothing, he just lit a cigarette and handed her his package. She lit a cigarette.

She looks at the area slightly strained, then her eyes are on you. "Y/N you were not to come later?" she asks you trouble." But since I don’t have any other friends and I finished my painting earlier, I came to see you in advance!" You say trying to be as convincing as possible.

Actually, the canvas you painted was your attacker’s face, you don’t want to forget it, you can’t forget it. So when you finished the canvas and looked at it for more than twenty minutes without saying anything just to cry, you had no desire to stay alone at home.

Stella nods skeptically and then suddenly, as if she had realized her presence, she turns to the smoker. Y/N meet Rafe, my partner " You look at the man and he looks at you in turn.

Rafe is big, really big.  When you do 5'3 everything looks bigger.

He gave you a shy smile and you turned your head embarrassed, you lie if you said Rafe wasn’t charming and really handsome.

Stella smiled at you and you refrained from giving her a finger. She smiled at you and went back inside, leaving you alone with Rafe. You both look at each other with incomprehension.

You started trying to make conversation with Rafe and he was very polite and nice, you learned that he had transferred here and that he came from a small island that you didn’t know existed, that he was two years older than you and that he liked living in California.

When Stella came back with her stuff and forced you to say goodbye to Rafe, you realized it wasn’t the last time you were going to see each other.

You were right because every time you were there waiting for Stella, he was there, you three were talking while they finished their cigarette. And one day, He asked you to have a date with Him. You were a little scared to go with a boy, but you agreed.

After several meetings, you and Rafe started dating. Rafe was patient and you were grateful for that, it took you seven months of relationship with Rafe to finally have sex.

Rafe had been sweet, you really liked what Rafe was doing to you, he felt so good in you that you didn’t want him to come off.

________________________________________

This evening Rafe finished his service at 7pm, you planned to go to the restaurant to celebrate your fourties of relations, You had put a black dress that arrived at your calf with a white vest and a small pair of white pumps.

As expected, Rafe and picked you up at 8:30 pm while he prepares. He got out of the car to open the passenger door and help you get his truck. You laughed when her fingers pinched your cheeks giving you a sincere kiss.

You arrived at the restaurant and there were not many people. Some person and waiters, the host brought you to your table, with seen on the sea. Dinner went well, you laughed all along and Rafe was extremely romantic.

It was getting late when Rafe asked for the check, it was time to go home to take care of you, probably tear your dress and have sex until dawn.

When the waiter came, your heart stopped.

 It was there.

His face hadn’t changed, you still didn’t remember his name, but you knew it was him.

how could he act like he was innocent. You started saying nothing and staying silent the rest of the night. On the way home, you didn’t say anything, either, when Rafe tried to put his hand on your thigh, you rejected him. He frowned but said nothing.

When he dropped you off at your house, you made him come spend the night with you.

When you arrived in the apartment, you immediately changed to feel more comfortable, neither you nor Rafe said a word.

You were done brushing your teeth when Rafe came into the bathroom with only pajama pants, he stood behind you and leaned over.

He started pressing his lips into your neck squeezing you against him. You don’t know if you really wanted him to continue but you didn’t reject him.

His venous hand moved to your panties and plunged into it, causing you to moan disproportionately. He grabbed you from the back of your back and legs, he carried you to throw you on the bed.

You wondered if it was too late to tell his that you no longer wanted his hand to start touching you again.

"Ra… hmm" you moaned when two fingers came into you. He took off your top and kissed your breasts, you moaned loudly.

He withdrew from you without warning and you frowned with incomprehension. "Love, I’m still not inside you?" He said like it made sense. "I know, but please be gentle?." You said avoiding his look.

"I’ve always been sweet baby." he says. "I know, but…" you think. "I don’t want to hurt." Rafe looks at you with concern. You have never complained that you had pain during sex and this is normal because you have never had pain.

"Are you sure you want to have sex ?" he asks you to look him in the eye. "What Yes! I.. I’m just afraid you’ll hurt me.." you’re lying.

Rafe nods and takes off his pants, he jerks his dick in his hand before slapping your clitoris with it. 

you moan, He goes inside you and begins to push gently, He moans your name in the hollow of your neck, his hips roll deep. Just like that, Rafe…" you moan, "I know babe, i know." he says, sticking his thumb in your mouth.

You put your legs around his hips to feel him deep down. You close your eyes with pleasure when feeling your orgasm.

Serious mistake because in the space of a second, your rapist is in Rafe’s place.

You open your eyes that are full of tears and start pushing Rafe away. "Go away! Please go away!" you yell at Rafe.

Tears are pouring out at a crazy speed and Rafe withdraws from you in incomprehension.

You put yourself in a fetal position crying." Y/N what’s going on?" Asks Rafe completely panicked.

You cry even harder when you remember. Rafe grabs you and takes you in his arms, you spent an hour crying.

When you finally calmed down, you explained to Rafe what happened to you and what it was like to see him, Rafe was gentle and calm.

He had only one desire: to get high the soo had done this to you, who dared to do that to you?!

he intended to make him regret

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Rafe had just moved in with you.

one night you woke up feeling the need to drink water, you walked out of the room without paying attention to whether Rafe’s side was busy or not.

You walked to the kitchen and the light was on, and there was a figure standing in front of the sink. "Rafe..?" You called. The blond got tense instantly. "Yeah love?" he asked in a hesitant voice. You approached him to see what he was doing. You started to freak out when you saw the front of his shirt smeared with blood on his knuckles.

"What happened, Rafe?" you panicked. Rafe laughed and put his hands on your face. Nothing love, I just did my job, protect my princess." He bends over and kisses you tenderly before forcing you to go to sleep.

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the next day on the news, a man’s body had been found, he had been beaten to death. This man, Caleb was your attacker.

And it was Rafe who took care of his file, strangely he quickly fell into the unimportant business.

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