#look i wanted to do some fun lighting but it's metaphor too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heechwe · 3 months ago

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not a bad thing | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

୨୧ pairing: hansol (vernon) chwe x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.6k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to lovers, light drug use, fingering, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, penetration, cockwarming. ୨୧ synopsis: Just because you've been friends for so long doesn't mean Vernon isn't keeping some secrets from you, and you're determined to confront him about it.

“Simple but still cute, or spontaneous and fun?”

Vernon, sprawled out on his back on your bed, looks up from his phone screen in absolute confusion. He’s wearing a rainbow beanie with his plaid button-up and denim jeans, contrasting your leggings and baggy t-shirt. He always acts unaffected by how good he cleans up when he wants to, but you shake the thought out of your head and wait for his answer. “Come again?” he asks.

You’ve been holding out the red and black cropped, long-sleeve shirts for two minutes for your best friend to see. Maybe he would immediately pick one or take his time deliberating, especially with the cutout in the shirts’ centers meant to reveal hints of cleavage. However, the realization that his attention was stolen long ago by some meme in your friend group’s group chat has you huffing and flinging the shirts at the edge of your bed.

It isn't the first time you've gotten nervous before a date, and it definitely isn't your first runaround with Vernon being out of touch with both his current and past conversations. Still, you value his advice more than anyone’s. Only you need it in an hour before your date arrives, and he’s being less than helpful. “Pick which one you like, idiot,” you whine.

“They’re literally the same shirt. The only difference is the color,” Vernon retorts. He rolls his eyes and resumes his endless scrolling.

“Exactly! I need to know which color you think I should wear. That way I give off the right impression.”

“And what impression exactly are you trying to give?”

“I don't know! Ready to have a good time but not looking to go too fast. Fuck, if only they had a shirt for that.” You rub your temple, contemplating if going on this date was the right decision.

The day Mingyu offered to set you up with his friend, you had half a mind to shut him down. His insistence on this blind date was too much to say no to, though, and going without any romantic or sexual interests for months seemed to take its toll on your resistance. While Vernon wasn't outwardly against the idea, he decidedly brushed it off with a disinterested hum and didn't mention it once until today.

Once he sees the defeat on your face, he caves, leaving his resting spot to grab you by the shoulders. It’s unsaid, but he practically asks outwardly for you to look him in the eye, so you do. “Listen. This guy is gonna like you no matter what color your shirt is. And you wanna know why?” You shrug, deflated. “Because anyone who can't see how hilarious and gorgeous you are is blind, and we don't hang out with blind people.” Vernon crinkles his eyebrows together and sighs. “You know what I mean. Like, metaphorically blind and shit.”

You laugh. “Thanks, Han.”

You turn away from him to stare at the two shirts still spread out on the bed. “But back to this. Which color do you like more?”

After waiting a few seconds for his answer, you look over your shoulder. He’s miles away, lost in his thoughts again. The look in his eyes and etches of his face are traced with puzzlement, and when you call his name to get his attention and snap him out of it, it’s still there. No matter how hard he tries to hide it with a tight-lipped smile. “Black. Simple but still cute,” he says, his voice soft as he uses your words from earlier, proving he was still listening.

Satisfied, you grab the top and turn, ready to make a beeline for the bathroom to get dressed. You stop short when you almost bump into Vernon on your way. It's only then you realize how close the two of you are. Less than a foot apart, to be exact. “I gotta get dressed, weirdo.” You try to sound humorous, but the breath accompanying your words sounds bated and unexpectedly airy.

In that second, all while you trace the outline of Vernon’s lips with your eyes, you wonder if maybe it would be so bad to skip the date altogether and do something else. Anything else. As long as you didn’t have to leave the house or Vernon.

“Right,” he whispers, but has no intention to walk closer to the bedroom door. Slowly, his eyes go a fraction wider than they normally do.

Like a silent cue, he steps away and fumbles over his words. “Okay well, good luck and—Sorry, I just—I’ll see you at Seuncheol’s after. You can tell us how it went. That is if you want to!” He stutters, right as he hits the back of his head against the door.

“Hansol! Are you okay—“

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He takes his beanie off to rub the sore spot. “Don’t worry about me. You don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you later!” He races out of the apartment, mumbling and clutching his head.

While you curl your hair and put on your favorite pair of jeans for your date, your mind goes back to the look in Vernon’s eyes and the thoughts that raced in your head before he took off. And you speculate about what those two things mean, and if they mean anything at all.

“He didn’t even kiss you? What a dumbass.” Vernon mumbles, grabbing his mocha latte. He takes a vigorous sip, humming at the warmth it brings.

“I know. Now pass me a Splenda packet, please?” You pout. Well-adjusted adults would normally be at home and in bed at ten in the evening. But for you and Vernon, you decide on hanging out in your favorite late-night coffee shop for pastries and cold brew. It was better than sitting around at Seungcheol’s, the usual festivities of weed and alcohol not hitting the same way. You both settled on an alternative to fill your time instead.

“How did it go exactly,” Vernon asks, his voice garbled from the cheese danish he stuffed into his mouth.

“Well, I made it to the restaurant and he was there already, which was nice. But as soon as we started talking about ourselves, he was so flat.”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrow, clearly confused.

“He was just very one-dimensional.”

“How so?”

“I mean, he was either talking about accounting, his accountant friends, or his work projects. Maybe it was better that he didn't kiss me. It might have been as boring as his capacity for communication.” You both share a laugh.

“So, I guess this means you don’t want a boring guy who presses his suits and plays golf on the weekends,” Vernon teases with a grin. You shove him playfully in the arm.

“That’s not the point! I mean, yeah, I don’t mind if a guy is serious, but I want someone who makes me laugh too. Who I don’t have to worry about liking my jokes but also sets a table or buys me flowers once and awhile.” You sigh.

While on your diatribe, Vernon grabbed your vanilla bean frappuccino. In a second, he has your straw in his mouth for a long sip. He smiles when he passes your drink back to you, unapologetic. “Someone who steals your drink for himself?”

You throw a napkin at him in retaliation. “I hate you!”

“Everything okay here, miss?” The barista asks, his name-tag shining against the dim lamps surrounding the cafe.

“We’re all good—Joshua—thank you.” You give him your best smile, to which he flashes his own at you. His teeth sparkle as much as his name-tag does, you think to yourself.

“Just Josh, please. The only one who uses my full name is my mother.”

You two exchange a chuckle, and you notice Vernon is not laughing or smiling at all. His eyes are mere slits, you can barely see the brown in his irises. His mouth follows in the same fashion, but downturned at the corners if anyone was paying close attention.

Joshua hands you a packet of chocolate-covered almonds, and he blushes. “They go really great with the frappes.”

“Oh thank you, but I didn’t—”

“It’s on the house. As long as you keep coming back.” Joshua turns to walk back to the coffee bar, suddenly tense as he leaves you and Vernon at your table.

Looking back to your best friend, you can see why. The original expression on his face has changed to pure anger. Vernon looks like he wants to blip the poor barista out of existence, and his long, hard stare in the guy’s direction might just make his wish come true.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” you ask Vernon directly.

When he turns to look at you, the stone in his expression softens a touch. “That guy seems like a creep.”

“He was just being nice!”

“He gave you a pack of nuts. Who does that?” He scoffs outwardly, and you can’t help but laugh. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Next time a cute guy gives me a snack, I’ll make sure you vet him first.” You wink at Vernon, but he remains hard-pressed. “Come on, don’t be jealous!”

“Of coffee boy? Please.” Vernon shrugs off your comment and crosses his arms. Something unreadable passes over his face for a brief moment. You would ask him about it, but you know the man is anything but overly emotional or easily vulnerable.

You try anyway. “Han, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and gets up to throw away his coffee, half unfinished. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he lies, looking away from you with a cold lilt to his tone. “Let’s get out of here.”

The sound of Vernon’s voicemail causes you to grunt in frustration, the beginning of the message you practically know by heart now. After the stint in the coffee-shop, Vernon walked you home without a word and hasn’t interacted with you since then. After being left on read for the past three days, you are all kinds of antsy. Normally, he would text or call instantly with a reason, but it’s been nothing but silence on his end. Your black phone screen makes you rub your temples. What did you do wrong?

“At this point we should send a carrier pigeon,” Lisa says with a shake of her head.

“She’s got it bad, babe,” Hoshi comments with a wink in your direction. He kisses Lisa on the cheek on his way to their kitchen.

When things went wrong, it was second nature to confide in Lisa and Hoshi. Two childhood friends turned dance prodigies and then inseparable lovers? They sounded like the plot of a bestselling romance novel. And admittedly, you wish you could find what they had. Why did you have to encounter so many red flags and road blocks?

“I mean, we all know you’ve been down for him for…three years now?”

“Shut up, Soon!” You exclaim, blushing. “I just don’t know why he’s gone AWOL on me.”

“Maybe he’s in a mood. You know him,” Lisa responds.

“Not like this. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without even sending an emoji to each other,” you say with a frown. You scroll through your conversation, the endless blue bubbles making your stomach sink further.

“He’s gonna be at Wooz’s tomorrow night for that party,” Hoshi says with the slam of the fridge door. You nod your head, already aware. Hoshi smirks. “Corner him there.”

Vernon was closer friends than you were with Woozi, someone you knew in passing because of his relationship with your best friend. But you had been to the guy’s apartment many times before. It wouldn’t be weird to attend, sans Vernon. Right?

“Fuck it,” you think out loud. “Lisa, can I borrow an outfit?”

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. Chan answers the door with a grin, patting you on the shoulder when you step through the threshold. Woozi and Seungcheol are karaoke battling in Woozi’s living room while the rest of the partygoers are either drinking beer or in circles puffing and passing.

You decline when Minghao tries to hand you his half of a joint, a dopey grin plastered on his face. You want to be sober when you confront your best friend for leaving you in the dark for half of the week, even if you know it’ll take the edge off of your nerves.

When you find Vernon, he’s grabbing a hard lemonade from the spare cooler on top of Woozi’s counter. His eyes, the usual white around his irises pink from the party favors, go wide when he sees you. “Fuck me,” he says out loud.

“Yeah, fuck you is right,” you bite back. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

His mouth is agape, giving no attempt to provide an answer. no answer. You get angrier the longer the seconds go by without one.

“Okay, how about an easier question: Why couldn’t you respond with a thumbs up or something when I asked if you were still alive?”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, another curse leaving his lips.

“Fine. Keep being weird about whatever the fuck is wrong. I wanted to try and make sure my best friend was okay, but he can’t even give me a solid explanation as to why he’s being a dickhead.”

Vernon takes your hand and walks quickly with you in tow. The people you pass move out of his way before they get body-slammed, some of them confused while others are too drunk or high to care.

When you make it to a bathroom off of the hallway, Vernon closes the door behind you and locks it. He takes a second before turning to you with a solemn expression.

“We can’t be friends anymore.” The words that leave his mouth break your heart to pieces and steal any semblance of air from your lungs. You didn’t expect to come into tonight and lose a friend, especially when you were unsure of what you did to cause Vernon to feel that way.

Your eyes begin to water with tears, but you don’t let them run over. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I’m saying I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Your voice grows thin. You’re confused how every word from his mouth sounds more sure than the one before while you’re falling apart.

But, even though he keeps up a composed posture, you can tell something inside of him is cracking. His bottom lip is caught in his teeth and his hands are fidgeting, two signs something is bugging him beyond his will.

“Please just tell me what I did wrong and I can fix it. I can’t help make this better if you don’t tell me what—”

In a second, Vernon has your back pinned against the bathroom counter. His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, giving your quick gasp no time to leave your mouth. He swipes his teeth over your bottom lip while his hands roam from your waist to the expanse of your hips. Soon enough, his tongue is inside of your mouth. He holds your neck with one hand while the other sits on the back of your thigh, hitching it up to press your leg against his side.

He feels the warm skin of your thigh in his palm and the center of your legs against him, making him groan. His touches and the sounds leaving him make you moan in kind into his mouth, and he swallows it blissfully.

When you separate for breath, you look deep into his eyes. Vernon’s expression brims with naked emotions, ones undecorated and unprepared, ones he cannot hide anymore. “If that’s the only time I got to do that when I’ve wanted to for so long, I had to make it count.” His confession should feel like a shock, something you were not ready for and quick to play off as an after effect of the joints he’s been smoking for the past couple hours, but it doesn't.

Instead, you accept it, with open arms and without a first or second thought to the contrary.

You soak in his words willingly, knowing for certain your heart wasn’t just wishing for someone. It was always wishing, comparing, waiting…for him. And now you have him, in this bathroom, terrified you feel anything less than what he feels for you.

Before he can step back, you take his hands in yours to prevent him from taking them off of your body. How could he think you could stop now? “Han, I need you to touch me more,” you whisper.

Vernon drops to his knees and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, his eyes requesting permission to hike up your skirt. Instantly, you nod.

He raises the denim up over your hips, meeting the cotton of your underwear with his mouth. As soon as his lips are on you, the cloth barely separating him from your clit, most of your coherent thoughts become lost to the wind.

Once he takes his fingers and moves your underwear to the side, you know you’re about to lose the breath in your lungs as well. His tongue licks a long stripe up your pussy, taking in the length of you with ease to maximize your pleasure. Your body quakes from how good he is at running his lips and mouth across you. You take in heavy breaths to try and steady yourself, but it’s no use.

Your best friend is eating you out too well and you have no idea how to function properly. You clutch his head with your hand and move your hips in time with the patterns of his mouth. The throes of your orgasm are so close, and it may just break you.

Vernon prods a finger at your walls, and you feel your body shake harder. “Han, I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop.” He hums against you and takes that as the green light to insert the digit completely.

A couple of strokes to the inside of your gummy walls and his tongue lapping at your clit makes you fall apart, whimpering quietly as to not have the people right outside the door hearing you climax.

Coming down, you sigh in pleasure. The sound morphs into breathless laughter. “I love you,” you finally say with a frail tone, but those three words have never been more true than right now.

The smile on Vernon’s lips revealing his gums and teeth is almost too radiant to stare at. It reminds you of butterflies, especially the ones that still flutter in the small spaces of your chest when he looks at you so reverently. Gently, he takes your cheek in his hand and says, “I love you too, pretty girl.”

You don’t leave the bathroom for another five minutes, spending that time in awe of what’s transpired and soaking in the feelings and love you’ve expressed to each other, all while you feel the bass of a Childish Gambino song beat against the bathroom walls.

The shuffle into your apartment is so quick you don’t hear Vernon close the door and lock it behind you. Even though you spent enough time pressed against each other in Woozi’s bathroom, the sticky and sweet feelings coming back to you in flashes, Vernon did not let go of your hand the entire walk home from the party. “It was so cold outside, I’m sure my nose is red.” Looking in the hallway mirror, you frown. “Yeah. I look like a reindeer.” You pout, falling into a fit of laughter.

Vernon chuckles, releasing his hand from yours to place on your cheek, his fingers oddly warm. He kisses the tip of your nose lovingly. “You’re a cute reindeer, if that helps,” He says. Stepping away from you, he takes off his jacket and places it on the coat-rack. “A few minutes with the heater on and it’ll feel like summer in here.”

“Don’t make me sweat, weirdo.”

“I kind of already did, but noted.” Vernon smirks, and right after the next giggle leaves your mouth, you stop to watch him.

Despite knowing how he tasted and how the timbre of his laughter felt against your neck, you knew those things didn’t compare to the candid moments that made you love him. He didn’t take notice of the squinted shape of his eyes reading his phone screen, or even the press of his hand against your back to make you feel safe. But you did, every instance more clear than they’ve ever been before. They were so minuscule on their own, but when they were all stacked together in every year and tear and smile, it was a wonder how you didn’t know you fell in love with him so long ago.

You don’t have to tell him you feel that way, though. He can see it in the stillness of your eyes, in the small and tender smile painting your mouth, in the red tint of your cheeks. He has felt the same too many times to count. You claimed his heart for all the reasons he claimed yours. Of course, it took you both almost half a decade to realize it.

He steps closer, a breath separating your bodies. Taking your hand in his, he kisses each finger before pressing his lips to the knuckles. You grin wider and rest your head on his chest. It’s a tiny marvel to feel the steady thrum of his heart against your ear, all the times being strictly platonic. Its tempo is a soft rhythm that has sent you to sleep on multiple occasions during sleepovers and movie marathons. Now, it’s as if the rhythm sounds different, beating with an entirely different meaning. You suddenly feel shy with him this close, the silent actions speaking for themselves.

“Are you tired,” he asks, lips brushing the curve of your scalp.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve never felt more awake.” You look up at him, a realization at the forefront of your mind. While you may have been together all night, and your mutual confession in Woozi’s bathroom was barely two hours ago, it feels like a world away since you last touched him. Intent, charged with what needs to be spoken and doesn’t, too vivid to go unnoticed.

Like the blunt release of a bowstring, it’s a sudden rush of lips gravitating to each other. The sensation is a mix of headiness and affection. In you, it’s the pull of your hands on the brown waves of Vernon’s hair and smiles slipping in between his kisses. For him, it’s the swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip to let him in, let him guide, and the reverence of kisses across your throat saying the words he knows are on your mind because they’re on his too. I love you and I want you and I need you and I don’t know how I’ll ever stop.

You make contact with the heat of Vernon’s skin when his sweater rides up, revealing the dips of his hip bones above the waistline of his pants. You spread your hands up and underneath the material to feel more of him, the warmth you desire, and the home that resides there. In his own desperate fingers, you realize he’s also exploring the places in you where he finds comfort and love.

The two of you stumble into the bedroom, caring almost as little as you did entering the apartment. You’re both so focused on each other the rest of your surroundings seem to be background noise, but Vernon does nod when you mention birth control. The back of your legs knock into the mattress, but you don’t mind with his lips at your neck, kissing and occasionally biting. He detaches his lips from your skin to tug abruptly on the hem of your skirt, wanting it gone. He rests his hands there, the request for permission clear. Once he takes it off, you raise your arms to let him remove your top as well. Once you’re clad in your undergarments, you help him with taking off his sweater in a haste, reaching for him again when the fabric finally falls to the floor. The renewed closeness seems to snap you both from your trance.

Your gaze reaches up to his eyes, and his are filled with patience and adoration. “We don’t have to rush, you know,” Vernon murmurs. He could easily let the time speed past him like he did earlier, certain there will be more moments like this to cherish at a slower pace. However, he can't deny he wants you as close as possible, determined to not let his words or actions go unsaid anymore.

You nod, running one hand against his chest while the other curls around the back of his neck. You place featherlight kisses to the column of his jaw as he unclips your bra. Each clip feels tentatively released, as though he’s slowing the two of you down like he wants to remember every moment. Maybe he feels this will only last until the morning, but little does he know that there's no way anyone or anything could be worth giving him up, not as a friend and definitely not as a lover.

He finally unbuckles his belt with determination and lets the metal clank on the wood floor. The only clothing left between you is your underwear, still damp from your previous activities, and his boxers. Immediately, you wrap your arms around each other when the busy work is finished, a clash of teeth and tongue following. A muddled moan escapes your mouth and reverberates against his throat when his groin brushes yours and his hands find your breasts. He rolls one nipple between his index and thumb while he squeezes your other breast with his opposite hand, teasing your skin with the pads of his fingers. The skin puckers and swells at his ministrations, the sensitivity between your legs growing again, wetness pooling there and leaving you aching.

The mattress dips underneath your weight when you fall onto it. You grip Vernon by the waist, but he only takes your hands away from his body and intertwines his fingers with yours. He’s all gravity, his seriousness palpable. The faintness of a smirk sits on his lips, but he shows no intentions of smiling. His boxers seem to grow tighter against him, but you don’t look away from his eyes. “Come here, Han. Please,” you whisper, spreading your legs wider, in hopes he can see how deep the ache he’s placed in every part of you goes. Vernon kisses each one of your palms before releasing them.

“Show me first. Show me how much you want me.” You bite your lip and use your hands to lower the cotton fabric of your underwear until it comes off. Your right hand trails up your body and lands on one of your breasts, squeezing and testing. No matter how you touch yourself, it doesn’t make up for the feeling of Vernon’s hands on your chest. His breath hitches when you press your opposite hand to your clit, a garbled moan unraveling on your tongue.

You tease yourself in small circles, enjoying the expanse of wetness you feel, and press your thumb to your clit again to make your hips roll. It feels like it should, a nice reprieve from the short time you’ve spent without any physical contact. But the lust-blown color in Vernon’s eyes, turning the brown irises that you love almost black, is what makes raspy sounds of pleasure leave your mouth. You want his hands instead of yours, as well as his mouth and his body on you, but his stare is enough to keep you going for him.

To amplify your torture even more, Vernon tugs at the waistband of his boxers until they fall at his feet, his cock fully erect. With the bottom of your lip stuck between your teeth, you run a finger up and down your slit at the thought of him on top of you, underneath you, and more. You release a whimper when he runs a hand up and down his cock, the tip swollen and leaking pre-cum already. You remain there together, sharing heady gazes and touching yourselves with slow and painfully gratifying motions, suspending all of the tension of the night into the air until one of you drops it. A loud, broken groan escapes him in response to the contact of his hand against himself and your body begging to be touched. If only he would let go and touch me, you think to yourself as you feel a satisfying clench in your belly.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he says, the last words catching in his throat.

You stop to sit up and grasp the head of his cock, running your hand up and down the girth to replace his. It causes Vernon’s body to shiver exquisitely, and you revel in the way your touch affects him almost half as much as his affects you. You whisper, “You don’t have to wait.”

Those words prompt him into action, pressing his free hand to your cheek and diving for your lips. The two of you fall flat onto the bed, and when his tongue enters your mouth once again, you can’t hold back. You grind your body against his, feeling the press of his erection at your center. “Please, I want you to fuck me so bad.” In the midst of your arduous haze, Vernon’s mouth turns into a wide smile, one you forgot you could miss so much.

You laugh at the beautiful twinkle in his eyes, lust laced into the sound. “What?”

“Aside from you telling me you love me, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words”—he brushes an index finger along your lips—“come out of your pretty mouth.” You bite on the tip of his finger, and he pulls it away with a smirk. He replaces it with his lips, using his hand to align and direct the head of his cock to your entrance.

He has no desire to rush, though, a slow, languorous push of his hips to press his cock inside of you following a soft kiss to your temple. But with a sudden jolt of his next thrust that makes you yelp in pleasure, you can tell that desire is starting to wane. “Sorry,” he says, “fuck, you just feel—“

“I know,” you agree. He’s so patient and loving, but the way he fills you and drives in and out, you want nothing more than for him to grips your hips and make a mess of you. After trailing a string of kisses from his cheek to his neck as he continues trying to restrain himself with drawn-out thrusts, you say, “I don’t want you to go slow. We have time for that later.”

“I just—Are you sure?” His eyes reveal all of the yearning he has felt and the doubts that still linger in his mind, the exposure of his feelings almost too much for you to bear. You kiss his lips once again, hoping all of your reciprocated emotions pour out of you and into his reservations to drown them out.

“After tonight, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Vernon nods and places his hands on your hips, the pressure exemplary. You wrap yours around the nape of his neck.

With a sharp and hard thrust, you moan into his mouth, loving how he pushes himself into you to the hilt. He continues his pace without slowing, loving the smack of his and your hips against each others’ and the way his body connects to yours.

“Fuck,” you whisper in unison, dragging your nails up his biceps and shoulders as he grips your hips harder. You may find bruised skin tomorrow morning, but at the moment, you love how tight his hold is on you. You wrap your legs around his lower back so he can angle his thrusts, and it feels like drowning and burning in the same breath.

From the chest to the hips, there’s an array of points where your bodies meet. With an overwhelming feeling of fullness pervading your body, you’re certain now there was never a time for anyone else to claim your heart when he had claimed it for his own long ago. You close your eyes to enjoy the thoughts bursting at the forefront of your brain alongside the build of your release, but the press of Vernon’s hand against your chin makes you snap your eyes open.

He pushes in deep, filling you to the brim once again, hitting the sweetest spot within you that has you digging the heels of your feet into his skin. You keep your eyes locked with his, but the way he presses down against your body and the new feeling of his hand against your neck makes it difficult to keep your focus on anything besides the profusion of sensations he’s giving you. You pull him in for a deep kiss, all while you push your hips back against his. This time, you capture a groan from his mouth with your lips. The hand against your neck shakes as his hips stutter, the established pace falling off.

In the midst of his lips being attached to yours, You notice the tinge of a whine accompanying his groans and how labored his breathing becomes. You press your fingers to your clit, rubbing circles into your flesh to follow him to his release with your own.

At this point, you cannot tell which sensation feels the best: Vernon’s tongue flicking against the roof of your mouth, his cock sinking into you, his hand pressing lightly against your windpipe, or the drum of your fingers along your center. Regardless, you love the filth and sweetness of each one, and how you’re sharing the same sensations with the man you love. It’s all you could ask for. You cry out when you finally orgasm. Clenching around him, you hold on to every second of the white hot bliss that coats every space of your skin.

Vernon lets out a long string of moans when he releases, filling you up and spilling inside of you. His thrusts come to a halt, pushing his hips one last time to milk what's left of his climax. Breathing fast, you press your forehead to his. Your heartbeats are drums, beating hard and clashing against each others’ tempos. With time pressed against each other, your bodies sticky and his cock still inside of you, they slowly find their way to a soft beat that compliment each other. Vernon huffs out a breath into the space of your neck, and you kiss his temple before he can raise his head and look into your eyes.

“I love you,” he says, panting, his face lit up in the dark. It’s as though he’s found rapture in the solace of your bed and in your arms, and you would not fight him on the sentiment because your smile mimics it tenfold.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him long and sweet, the damn taste of his mouth a new and unending craving.

He pulls out of you to grab some tissues from the bathroom, but not leaving without pecking your nose, which makes you giggle more than it should. He comes back to bed and wraps himself around you, and you breathe in his scent as he rubs soothing circles into your back. Despite that, you still yearn for more of his body against yours, too touch-starved to go back. “Han?”

“Hmm?” He asks, raising his head from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes.

“Could you…I don’t know,” you fumble, unsure of how to get your point across. In trying to find the right words, Vernon seems to understand as a small, boyish grin spreads onto his face. You two discussed your kinks lots of times, sometimes for the fun of it, and Vernon knew some of yours were based solely on your desire for connection and intimacy. And how could he say no to you now when all you wanted was to be close to him?

Wrapping a hand around his cock, he hisses from the lingering traces of sensitivity. He strokes himself a few times before he grows hard again and sinks himself inside of you. While he shudders from feeling you take him so well, he doesn’t roll his hips and you don’t rock back against him. You only press your bodies closer together, love and fullness coaxing you to sleep in tandem with the sound of Vernon’s heartbeat.

The sun bleeds through your curtains, and normally you would trudge to the window to close them shut and fall back asleep peacefully. This time, though, you don’t mind it when you see the rise and fall of Vernon’s naked chest in the sunlight, all while feeling his arms wrapped around you. You know you could watch him sleep all day, the gape of his mouth so kissable and the warmth of his skin calling to be savored. However, those thoughts come to a halt when the sudden desire to grab something to drink hits you. Hating to leave him, you press a soft kiss to Vernon’s temple.

You take an old button-up of his from your closet and tiptoe to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You know your bed is a room away, but you gulp down the drink to make it there faster. Of course, when you walk back into your room, you see an awake Vernon with a hand propped behind his head. His eyes are droopy, but a sugary smile sits on his lips nonetheless, taking in your article of clothing. “Is that my shirt?”

You grin, a blush creeping on your face. “You left it here, so that makes it mine.” On some level, you had worried this morning would be awkward no matter how many times you had said you loved each other the night before. Still, the ease of falling into your shared banter and routine comforts you.

“Point taken. You look cuter than I do in it, anyway.”

Vernon pats the empty spot next to him you were previously occupying, and you have no qualms crawling back into it and into his arms. “Does that mean I can wear all of your shirts when I want? I mean, since I look so cute in them,” you joke, kissing several spots on his jawline.

His hand creeps up to your shoulder, and thanks to the lack of buttons fastened together, he slides the fabric down until one of your breasts peaks out. “As long as I’m the only one who sees you out of them.”

“I think we established that last night.“ You giggle into his neck. “But, to reiterate, yes. You’re the only one I’ll share all of my terrible jokes with, take with me to Taco Tuesdays, and get undressed for.”

Vernon smirks. “That’s what we do anyway, minus the last part.”

“Well, call it an added bonus then, since we’re in love and all.”

The laugh that leaves his lips stops your heart, and you wonder if it’s possible to pack away a sound in your mind for every good and bad day, just to recall this moment. “Deal.”

With that, he places a kiss on your lips as the sun continues gleaming through your window.

You spend the rest of the early morning that way, wrapped up in each other and not bothering to dress. After another post-morning sex nap, you two spend the rest of the day cuddled up on your couch with Chinese takeout, reminiscing about the past, but ready to find out where the future takes you both. Lucky for you, with the way Vernon looks into your eyes, loses his train of thought every time you kiss him, and finds it again when you smile, the future has the potential to be pretty beautiful.

#svthub #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #svt smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen fic #svt fic #vernon fic #hansol fic

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 2 months ago

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Are You Sure?! - Episode 7 Observations

9.5/10 ☆

Something clicked for me in the latest AYS?! episode. After years of following these two people and getting excited for any interaction or information regarding them, it was now perhaps the first time when watching them felt like not witnessing something special. Oh, I know how this sounds, but it's not what you think and I will explain.

When I say it didn't feel special I meant that nothing felt like a novelty. You know how shocked and excited we all became when Jimin called Jungkook during a birthday wlive? Or the collective metaphorical screaming on social media every time one would get close into the other one's space in some behind the scenes clip? That reaction for me was also a result of having to see that in a larger context in which jikook were not always the main focus.

Now with AYS?! and seven episodes in, I'm used to basically everything. The evening and morning routine, the soft talking, the flirting, the playfighting, the way they eat together. The nakedness and all the tattoos on display. I've developed a tolerance to it. And episode 7 really helped in cementing that. Yeah, they're half naked in a hot spring. Of course they are. They're brushing their teeth and do their morning skincare routine together. Of course they are. Jungkook buys the snacks and Jimin is in charge of feeding him. Of course. They laugh at the same things and everything is funny when they're together. Of course they do. They're playfighting again? Why would anyone be surprised at this point?

And I love that we got here. It's everything I wanted without ever thinking that it could be possible. It is extremely satisfying and fun to watch them. It has always been, but AYS?! was an open window into their lives together in a way that it hadn't happened before.

Sapporo is a special segment for many reasons. And as much as it's fun to see them have a good time, the impending military enlistment looms like a shadow over their trip. Jungkook is the one who seems intentional in talking about it in a way that makes light of the situation, while Jimin is more on the silent side.

But all this inevitably made me think of a downside. Because how am I suppose to go back to waiting for an aknowledged look while Jimin and Jungkook would sit at opposite ends in an interview setting? Or not doing a wlive together? Getting minimal interactions because there's 5 other people there? It would feel like something is not right. Jimin and Jungkook come in a package and they do everything together. They laugh and never get bored together. Jungkook cooks for Jimin while Jimin fills the exact needed space and purpose in that kitchen. Jimin can talk about learning to snowboard with Jungkook's friends and that conversation to remain between them and no one else. They can take showers together and then act like stupid boys in some endurance contest in the freezing water and it's their own thing and theirs only.

AYS?! Sapporo is bittersweet. For Jimin and Jungkook because as much fun they have, they know that their remaining time of freedom is getting to a close. Snow is beautiful there and they are together, but in a few weeks whatever sentiment that might evoke will be in the back of their minds when their reality will be completely different. That's why making those last minute memories together was so important. And they knew that and Jungkook felt the need to say it out loud. Like a constant reminder of how special those few days were.

And it's bittersweet for me too. While there's always the option of rewatching, who knows when such an opportunity (and privilege) will arise once again? Maybe never. Maybe AYS?! will be the first and last time to be able to take a peak through that window at their life...

#m thoughts #jikook #jikook travel show #jikook are you sure

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monstersflashlight · 7 months ago

Note

I am very fond of your writing and have a somewhat unique request.

Could you write something with a fem sub werewolf who is really butch and tuff and sort of bratty in her human for a but turns Into a puppy when she well. . . Turns.

I totally get it if this isn't your stile but I thought the power dynamic could be fun.

Regardless be well and drink water. < 3

Thank you for your kind words! It means the world. I hope this is somewhat close to what you expected, I tried my best. It was really fun to write, I love power dynamics and bratty subs (and butch fems, especially the muscular ones).

Fem!Werewolf x Non-gendered human || dom/sub dynamic, power play, spanking

Pack nights were long and tiring, and you hated to show up just to be listening to a bunch of men trying to see who had it longer (metaphorically). But your girlfriend? She loved it. She fitted right in between them, she gained the respect of them all, the bulging muscles, the posture, the way she talked around them.

You couldn’t blame them, you fell for her because of those reasons too. She was just so… big. So muscular. She could lift you with one arm if she wanted, but did she? No, she didn’t. In public she was this big personality that overpowered everyone, but in private? In private she was just bratty. She loved to push your buttons and tease you. And then she transformed and became nothing but a needy little pet for you to play with. Nobody knew, though. Just you.

And today wasn’t different. She started slow, making remarks about the way you made lunch. Making jokes about the way she looked even though she knew you hated when she tried to make fun of herself. Coming home from the gym all sweaty and panting, but denying you when you followed her to the shower, excusing herself because you two had to leave soon. And then she had the audacity to put on that fucking gray sweatpants you loved, how low they fell down her hips, how her abs were framed by the elastic of the pants. You loved those fucking pants. But not in public. The sluttiness of those pants was just for you. And she knew that.

She got away with it, you couldn’t tell her to change if you were going to be on time. And to make it even worse, she winked at you, biting her lower lip as she passed you. That little shit. She knew what she was doing. And she was playing the big leagues at it. Teasing you on a professional level. She was pushing your buttons on purpose. Game on, you thought. You were competitive as fuck, and you weren’t gonna lose against your bratty girlfriend. Not a chance in hell. Before the night ended, she’ll be a needy mess under you.

You sat right beside her at the pack meeting, your lower half hidden under the table. Your hand started innocent enough, grabbing her muscular thigh as someone talked about some trade with other pack you didn’t care about. You could feel the power of her muscles under your hand, and the way she pushed her legs together as you tried to touch the inside of her thigh. You didn’t like that. The anger inside of you growing with each passing second. She was trying to deny you, again.

She wore the fucking sweatpants, she was annoying all day on purpose, and your blood was running hotter than normal. And now she dared to deny you access to her pussy? Oh no, she didn’t. You closed your mouth and waited, your hand never leaving her thigh. Your anger rising slowly as the meeting progressed.

When the two of you exited the building you were fuming, your adrenaline and anger mixing to create a ticking bomb inside of you. You made as far as the car before you were grabbing her short hair and pulling her towards you.

“You know what you were doing teasing me, didn’t you?” She whimpered, nodding shyly as you grabbed her chin with more force than needed. “Strip. Turn. And run.” You ordered, each word followed by a light pull of her hair. She nodded, stripping before you and leaving her clothes on the ground. You picked them up, throwing them inside the car as she ran in her half-turn form. You knew she wouldn’t go far, a chase wasn’t what she was looking for today. She wanted to be punished for her behaviour. She wanted to get pounded into the ground. She wanted to be dominated.

You waited for a bit, knowing full well she’d be panting even before you went after her. The woods surrounding the pack hall were dense, but you knew she would be by the clearing not too long from there. You followed the path, thinking how would be the best way to punish your bratty girlfriend.

You saw her, kneeling in the middle of the clearing, the moon over her like a caress, making her shine.

“Face down. Ass up.” You ordered, not touching her yet. She obeyed instantly, tail waggling behind her involuntary. Cute. You grabbed her tail without any caress, pulling a bit too hard and making her whimper. That fueled you, the game she was playing before long forgotten. She teased and teased, and now it was time for punishment.

“What a bratty slut, teasing me all night, and for what? You want your pussy pounded? You want to take my knot so far you see stars?” She could only whimper as you teased her needy cunt. She was velvety soft and wet, so, so wet. “So wet for me already. Don’t you have any smart remarks now, do you? You pushed all my buttons during the pack meeting, knowing full well what you were doing, weren’t you, pet?” She whimpered again, pushing her ass up to try push your fingers inside. You laughed at her neediness. “All that muscle, all that posturing for everyone to see and you are just a slutty, slutty pet. So ready to take it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here, in the open. Maybe somebody would see, maybe somebody would know how needy you really are.”

“Is this what you wanted? My hand against you?” Your fingers were circling her clit without any pressure, making her whimper and moan. She was squirming under you, every cell of her body vibrating with desire and pent up frustration.

“Yes, yes! Please!” Desperate groans were escaping her mouth as she tried to get more friction, pushing her ass up into your hand. You laughed again.

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” You took your hand away, caressing her inner thighs where her desire was dripping. You lowered down, lapping at her juices without getting close to where she wanted you the most. Marveling at her whine of protest. She was desperate and needy. But she wasn’t going to get the release she wanted. She spent the whole day proving your patience, and it ran out.

“Pleaseeee.” She begged over and over, her head moving against the grass as she tried to push back into your hand. So hot. You pressed against her clit one more time and then took your hand away from her soaked pussy, making her cry out and whine in two seconds.

She pushed her ass up again. “Oh no, pet. You teased me all day, and now I deserve some payback, don’t you think?” She was looking at you over her shoulder, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes shiny with unshod tears. You wanted those tears, they were yours to collect. “Be still.” You commanded. She whimpered softly. And then your hand made contact with the left cheek of her ass, making the perfect sound. Both of you groaned.

You continued spanking each cheek alternatively, making her squirm. Her ass looked so good marked by your hands, you wish you had your paddle with you, but that could wait. Next time. You kept going, knowing full well she could take it. Your handprint was visible against her cheeks, making you smile as her tears rolled down her face. “So pretty when you cry.” You murmured, she moaned. You keep hitting, massaging her abused ass every once in a while to make her squirm. You teased her core with your fingers, pushing the tip inside as she groaned. With each spank, her back arched and she let out a bunch of curses and swears, begging and pleading you to stop and to keep going. The sounds she was making were the best music you’d ever heard. She sounded wrecked, and you loved it.

And suddenly, her back arched impossibly as her body convulsed. “Did you come just from me spanking you? Oh yes, you did. So needy that you don’t even need my fingers to cum. Such a slutty, slutty pet that can come just from her ass getting spanked.” She flushed all over, trying to hide her mortification. Your tone was mocking as you saw her pussy gaping, all shiny and juicy, puffy after her release. You pushed your fingers inside to watch her try to get away, grabbing her tail back to stop her. You finger fucked the last tremors out of her, laughing as she cried out.

#werewolf #werewolf girl #werewolf x human #monster #monster girl #monster x human #monster imagine #teratophillia #monster girlfriend #monster fucker #requests

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starkeyvhs · 4 months ago

Text

kill bill

PAIRING: rafe cameron x dark!fem!kook!reader

SUMMARY: your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend, so you take matters in your own hands.

WORD COUNT: ~6k

WARNINGS: MAJOR DARK CONTENT WARNING! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! murder; blood; gore; reader is extremely possessive over rafe, gaslights him, short tempered, toxic, selfish, gets jealous very easily, physically unable to grieve, very very sick and twisted; they have an extremely toxic relationship; mentions of two ocs; suggestive content (absolutely no smut), reader likes to mark rafe; consumption of alcohol, hardcore drugs and cigarettes; minimal usage of nicknames like babe and baby; reader often exercises her ownership over rafe vocally; rafe chokes reader (but not so much she passes out), locks her in a room; minimal swearing; like one mention of y/n (I tried to avoid it as much as I could); detailed descriptions of a funeral; grieving; I always beta read my fics but if you find any minor grammatical/spelling error please ignore :) + let me know if you think I missed anything (I crossed checked everything twice)

EDITH SPEAKS: I hardcore believe we need more sick and twisted reader instead of the usual sweetheart one (nothing wrong with that, btw!) because it’s so much fun writing a complex female character. I had the time of my life writing this, and I hope you love reading this too <3 please please heed all warnings, this fic is really really dark, and I wouldn’t want anyone to be triggered by the content in any way (the warnings are there for a reason!) please reblog if you liked reading this, and feedback is always appreciated 🥀 massive thank you to my baes raye and zya who heard my brainrot for this fic all the damn time <3 (I love having fic writers besties 🥰)

masterlist / join my taglist / requests / moodboard from my old blog

It’s dark.

For some reason, it feels darker than usual.

Maybe because it’s a new moon, the indigo sky is completely devoid of the pale moonlight, which is usually the source of light at night.

Or maybe, the reason for it feeling darker isn’t literal.

Maybe it’s metaphorical.

Your gaze drops down to your hand, your gloved fingertips digging into the engravings on the handle of the knife, the tips of the nails settling between the grooves. The tip of your index finger is trapped in a curvy groove, your finger repetitively moving up and down, up and down, up and down through the curve.

You take a step back, the sound of the rubble crunching under your feet with a certain wetness echoes in the dark alleyway.

With your free hand, you lift up the hem of your dress, revealing the cover of the knife strapped to your upper thigh by a garter. The length of the dress hides the garter at all times, keeping it completely out of view. You slowly slide the knife back into its covering, letting it still in place, and allowing the dress to cover your thigh back again.

Your gaze begins to trail along your arm, the streaks of blood staining your skin red, matching the deep red of your dress. You flex your fingers under the single streak of street light entering the alleyway, illuminating the dried blood rubbed on your fingertips and knuckles.

Slowly, you let your eyesight travel down more and more, until you’re looking down at your feet.

Your feet stand in a dark pool of blood, almost seeming black in the darkness of the eerie alleyway. With the way only a single street light is responsible for the only light source, it almost seems like a scene from a black and white horror movie.

The metallic smell of blood fills up your nostrils entirely as you take another step back, gently kicking the foot in your way to the side.

“Oh poor Amber…” You mumble softly, taking a step closer to her face and bending down to her level, watching her soulless eyes gazing up at the bricked wall behind you. Her soft, pearly white slip satin dress is flushed with a deep burgundy, the slit through which your knife pierced her porcelain like skin is wide and open, right above her chest.

Your gloved fingertips trail over her cheekbone, so pale and so cold, as you feel the lifelessness under your skin. It’s almost pitiful if you think about it: the way poor Amber could’ve avoided all of this only if she knew to keep her hands off what you own.

She wouldn’t have to experience such a horrible end to her life, stabbed in a hidden alleyway, her dainty arms spread on her sides, her lifeless fingers grasping onto the last bit of memories of his touches, only if she knew better than to attempt to exercise her ownership over something clearly taken by you.

Oh well, you slowly get up from your crouched position, sparing a last glance at her body lying in the pool of her own blood.

Maybe it feels darker than usual because your own hands picked up a knife and drove it straight through the girl’s heart.

Do you regret it?

Absolutely the fuck not.

And why would you, if it means you get to have Rafe Cameron back again?

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

SEVEN MONTHS AGO

The strobe lights flash all around the otherwise dark party mansion, the bass of the loud music thumping in your eardrums. The party is as crowded as it can be, sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other tantalizingly on the dance floor, causing the all too familiar smell of sweat mixed in with weed, alcohol and what not to settle heavily in the building.

There’s so much happening around you, the dance floor if fully occupied, there’s a game of beer pong being played over-enthusiastically at one end, a corner table surrounded by mostly boys busy with their hardcore drugs at another end, the bar right behind you with all the alcohol you can ever need; yet your hardened gaze is fixed on Rafe, and the girl he’s having a conversation with a few feet away from you.

“I’ll be back in a moment, babe,” He had mumbled against your hair, giving your thigh a firm pat before leaving his place next to you at the bar counter. You were confused for a moment as to where he was going suddenly, but then you saw him approach a girl completely unknown to you, give her a hug and get involved in a conversation.

Now, over ten minutes have passed and he still hasn’t left her side. You can’t hear them talk due to the loud music, but you can watch them laugh, the conversation so engaging it’s like they both have forgotten a world outside them exists too.

Your hand resting on your thigh is beginning to press harder against your flesh, your fingers digging into your skin, causing a sharp pain to spread on your skin, but you do nothing to reduce it. Your jaw clenches tightly at the sight of Rafe and the girl, streaks of possessiveness flaring up in every nook and cranny of your soul.

But the moment the girl’s fingers reach out to nudge his arm, you know you have had more than enough.

In a swift movement, you get up from your occupied barstool and make your way over to Rafe.

As you approach Rafe, you reach your hand out for his arm, letting your fingers curl around his bicep to grab his attention. The girl talking to him suddenly stops speaking as she spots you right next to him, and the way your hand is around his arm, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Oh hey babe,” Rafe says, very discreetly trying to get you to loosen his grip on him by moving his arm subtly, but of course, you’re too busy glaring at the girl to even realize the borderline iron tight grip you have on his bicep.

Rafe senses the tension in you — it’s not hard to miss the way it’s oozing off you.

“Oh uh,” he clears his throat, gesturing to the girl. “This is Keely, she moved away two years ago but now she’s visiting the island for–”

“Yeah I don’t care,” you swiftly cut him off, giving his arm a sharp tug and dragging him away from Keely. Before Rafe can even say anything to Keely, you are tugging him away from the crowd, away from the party, leading him up the stairs of the party mansion.

“Where… babe what are you doing?” Rafe asks, his tone incredulous as he tries his best to pry your hands off his arm, but your grip only seems to be getting tighter by the second. He can catch a glimpse of his arm, and the way his skin has started to pinken under your bruising grip.

You don’t say anything, just lead him up the stairs silently. You reach the hallway on the second floor, and the first door you open is an empty bedroom. You push Rafe inside and close the door behind you two, locking it.

“Babe what are you–” Rafe tries to speak, but with another nudge to his shoulders the back of his legs stumble against the edge of the bed and he flops on his back onto the mattress.

You are quick to follow as you get on top of him and sit in his lap, straddling his waist. You look down at him, your palms laying flat against his chest.

Without any words, you dip down and capture his lips in a searing kiss, your lips moving with a fiery fervor against his. Rafe doesn’t even have a moment to process what’s going on, but his body naturally responds to you, his hands coming to grip onto your hips and squeezing them tightly.

“Fuck baby…” he murmurs hoarsely as your lips leave his to trail over his jawline and finding the side of his neck. A sharp gasp escapes his mouth as your teeth suddenly sink into his flesh, your tongue running over the mark to soothe the burning sensation.

Instinctively, Rafe’s grip tightens on your hips, his eyes squeezing close. Your movements are unrelentless, your teeth biting down into whatever patch of skin of his neck you can succumb onto, your tongue running over the marks, and your lips sucking on the skin.

“You’re mine you hear me?” Comes out your voice in a whisper against his skin as you begin to travel over to the other side of his neck, not stopping for even a second to give him a break.

“Yeah yeah I’m yours I’m–” another sharp gasp leaves his lips as your lips find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck right above his pulse point and suck on it. He can feel the bruises beginning to form, bruises so deep he knows they won’t fade soon.

He knows you like to leave marks on him. Since you and him started dating, he was often seen with a bruise or two on the side of his neck, or peeking from under the collar of his shirt on his collarbone. They were always small, and never too dark.

But today? Today he feels you aren’t doing to let a single inch of his skin bare from your marks.

One of your hands slips into his hair and you pull his head back, baring his slender throat to you. You lean down and press your lips to his throat, kissing and sucking on the skin the same way you did to the sides of his neck.

Rafe’s blunt fingertips begin to dig into your hips, his lips parted as heavy exhales escape him.

“Is… is this about Keely?” He breathes, feeling your fingers slightly tighten in his hair, causing him to let out a barely audible whine.

“What if it is?” You mumble against his skin, biting down on his throat which elicits a sharp gasp from him. He writhes a little under you, as if trying to escape you, but you let your full weight fall on Rafe’s waist, making it impossible for him to move.

“Baby she’s…” he pants. “She’s just an old friend… nothing else…”

Your hand on his chest reaches for the top button of his shirt and your fingers pop it open, revealing more skin to you. Your mouth is quick to follow suit, your lips attacking the newly visible skin.

“She needs to know you’re mine,” you mutter against his skin, your voice lowering an octave. “Who the fuck–” you bite down on the skin right under the hollow of his throat, emphasizing your words, causing Rafe’s upper body to buck up involuntarily, “–does she think she is huh? Touching my man that way?”

“T…touching…?” Rafe breathes. “She didn’t… she never touched me–”

“She did,” Your voice is sharp, leaving no room for any argument. Your mouth goes back to its work, your fingers popping the second button open to bare you more skin of his to mark.

“You’re mine, Rafe,” you mutter against his skin, “always.”

Rafe’s breathing speeds up more — if that’s even possible, as he feels the next buttons of his shirt getting unbuttoned too.

“Say it,” comes out your voice, sharp and low. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m–” he breathes, “I’m all yours baby, all yours… always and forever…”

You let your lips curl up into a faint smirk, the movements of your mouth slightly slowing down as you only kiss along the skin of his chest. At the slowing of your pace, Rafe’s fingers begin to loosen their grip on your hips, his short bursts of breathing slowly coming under control.

You slowly lift your head up and sit up in his lap, your fingers slipping out of his hair. You gently trace your fingertips over the sides of his neck, feeling the red, swollen bruises forming on his skin, which you know will only become more pronounced as the time passes. Your fingertips trail down to his chest, feeling the indents in his skin from the bruises and the bite marks. Something about feeling the bruises on his neck and not just seeing them begins to calm down the stoking fire of possessiveness on you.

It’s like you’ve branded him as yours.

“You look so perfect like this baby…” You coo softly, the gentle tracing of your fingertips a sharp contrast to just a few seconds ago when your teeth were on the verge of breaking through his skin. “So beautiful, so perfect, so mine…”

Rafe watches you through half hooded eyes, his breath only beginning to come under his control. He can feel his chest heaving from his heavy breathing and your touch over it, a sharp tingling sensation spreading over his skin wherever your mouth had been.

He can see it; the look of satisfaction in your eyes as if you’ve won a big prize. Your eyes rake over him, taking in all the bruises that stand out against his light skin.

“This… this should be enough to show her that you aren’t up for grabs,” you mumble to yourself quietly, still tracing over the marks and bruises over him.

Rafe shudders under the feeling of your fingertips tracing over his bruises, the skin reddened and getting more and more sensitive with each touch and nip of the air.

“You haven’t got anything to worry about baby…” he says slowly, almost cautiously. “I belong to you, forever,”

Your piercing eyes find his, the eye contact so strong it sends a chill down his spine.

“Yeah, yeah you are,” you mumble softly, before leaning down to let your lips connect to his skin again.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

FIVE MONTHS AGO

Rafe stands next to the dining table with Wheezie and Sarah as Ward and Rose greet their guests for the night, their noises of greetings and laughter floating over to the three siblings in the dining room. The noise of their chatter only increases as the group approaches the dining table, spotting the three Cameron kids waiting for them.

Next to Ward and Rose are Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, with their daughter Amber. Ward and Mr. Lawrence are the bestest of friends; business wise and casual wise. Their businesses work hand in hand, and their families meet often for dinners and night outs.

Rose politely guides everyone to the dining table and everyone takes a seat, Amber’s seat being right next to Rafe’s.

“Hey Rafe,” she smiles, adjusting in her seat as she takes her purse off and hangs it on the back of her chair.

“Hey,” he says back, his voice quiet as he watches the food being served on the table.

He can feel Amber’s gaze on him; he has always had a hunch that she likes him with the way she looks away with a subtle blush on her cheeks when he catches her staring. Or with how she’s always talking so sweetly to him.

Or maybe his hunch is wrong.

Just like he’s the Kook prince, she’s the Kook princess. She’s known for being an absolute sweetheart, kind to anyone and everyone she meets. Even though she already has millions attached to her name, she’s volunteering at elderly homes, soup kitchens, beach clean ups and what not. She donates to charities whenever she can, and always sponsored them back in their days at the Kook Academy.

Rafe is quiet as the food is served, his plate kept in front of him. Everyone on the table is immersed in chatter, Amber distracted by Sarah and Wheezie, but he’s silent.

He takes small bites of the chicken he’s served, nibbling on the end of his fork as his mind goes to you, and the horrible, horrible fight you both had.

“It’s getting out of hand, y/n! You’re always on my heels, never letting me breathe!” Rafe snaps, trying to create as much distance between you and him.

Your eyes widen, an almost crazy look in them as you walk closer to him. “‘never letting me breathe’ is that so? I care about you Rafe! I love you!” You retort, attempting to reach out for his hand but he pulls back before you can touch him in any sort of way.

Your touch doesn’t feel loving, it feels like a burn to his skin.

“If you loved me, you would believe me that I was out with my friends, not with some girls! You think any girl will approach me when I’ve got these–” he frantically gestures to the marks all over his neck, “–all over my neck? Huh?”

“I leave those marks cause you’re mine!” Your voice comes out as strong, sharp yells now, echoing in the hallway of your house.

“Stop- stop saying that shit! I’m not yours! I don’t want to be yours anymore! You don’t fucking own me!” Rafe spits.

Now, he shouldn’t have said that.

You take another step closer to him, causing his back to hit against a door of a room in the hallway, completely caged by the door behind him and you in front of him.

He can see the look on your face, the way your eye is almost twitching, the way you let out soft pants; he has pissed you off.

“Yes I do,” your voice comes out low, and cold. “Yes, I own you, always and forever.”

“No you don’t!” Rafe snaps back. One of his hands reaches back for the door knob, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “I’m done with this shit! I’m done with you!”

You inch even closer to him, your chest almost touching his, leaving barely any space between you two.

“You think you can let me go this easily, huh?” You sneer, looking him dead in the eye.

Rafe’s hand on the door knob only tightens further, his knuckles almost turning white in the process. He’s done with this, he’s done being controlled by you, done letting you exercise ownership over him, and he’s done being in this loveless relationship.

In a swift movement, Rafe’s free hand comes to wrap around your throat, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part, a choked gasp escaping you. Your hands reach for his fingers gripping your throat so harshly, feebly attempting to pry his fingers off. But his hold is strong, so strong.

You feel the amount of air in your lungs lessening with each passing second, your movements becoming weaker as the moments pass. You try to speak, anything, try to kick him off, but your body is just getting weaker.

Your tear rimmed eyes meet Rafe’s, whose own cheeks begin to streak with the tears that start to fall down. They aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears of frustration, because he’s done with this shit.

“I’m done with you, you hear me?” He mutters through his tears, his voice frustrated and shaky. “Done with this entire thing.”

You try to fight back, to argue, to do anything, but nothing works. Rafe’s hand on the door knob pulls the knob down, opening the door. It reveals the store room, and in a single movement, he pushes you inside, a choked gasp leaving you, and he quickly shuts the door and turns the lock.

“Open the fucking door!” Come out your muffled yells from inside, and he can hear you sputtering, trying to catch your breath after being at a loss of it for the past minute.

Your hands bang against the wooden door, the sound loud in the empty hallway.

Rafe steps back from the door, hearing the loud banging on the door, the sound thumping in his ears along with his loud heartbeat.

For a moment, it seems like everything goes silent except the loud banging in his ear, pulsating throughout every nerve in his brain.

This is the first time he ever did anything to defy you, defy your so-called “love” for him.

And god, does he feel… good. Strong. He never knew he would be able to stand up against you. But now, he has you locked in the store room of your own home.

It feels exhilarating.

“Open the fucking door Rafe!” Your voice comes from inside the store room again, zapping Rafe out of his thoughts. He swallows harshly, his arms frozen on his sides as he slowly takes another step back.

With the way you’re banging at the door and are yelling, he can tell you’re getting impatient.

But he’s not going to do anything about it.

He’s done getting pushed around by you.

Taking another step back, he begins to back out of the hallway, ignoring your constant muffled yelling and banging at the door. He can hear you rattling the lock, desperately trying to escape the store room.

He tries his best to push away the sounds of you and your attempts to escape out of his mind as he takes shaky steps back from the hallway, slowly and slowly inching away from you. He takes a deep breath, and finally, turns around, his back to the store room, and he makes his way out of the hallway, approaching the main door of your home.

Without thinking twice, he opens the door and steps out, letting the door slam shut behind him, his mind pushing away the distant voice of yours yelling at him to open the door.

“Rafe? Rafe are you okay?”

Rafe snaps out of his thoughts and looks up from his plate to his side, seeing Amber gently shaking his shoulder. He looks back down to his plate and see he barely ate any of it, just nibbled on the piece of chicken, the veggies lying untouched.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, gently moving his shoulder which causes Amber’s hand to fall back to her side. “Yeah yeah I’m good uh… excuse me,” he politely excuses himself and gets up from his chair, leaving the dining table. Sarah and Wheezie glance at him with concern, but Rose and Ward don’t really seem to give this matter much light.

Amber watches Rafe leave the dining room, adjusting his turtle neck once as he makes his way out to the balcony, closing the wooden door behind himself.

Her eyes remain fixed on the path which Rafe had just followed, every cell of her body itching to follow him.

Just a few seconds later, she excuses herself from the table too and makes her way to the closed door of the balcony.

As the door opens and she steps out, Rafe diverts his attention to the door, a cigarette smoking away in his hand.

“Hey,” Amber says softly, giving him a gentle smile as she lets the door knob slip from her hand, the door closing with a gentle click. She makes her way over to Rafe, standing next to him in front of the balcony railing, her eyes fixing on the cigarette slotted between his fingers.

“Hey,” Rafe says back looking back out at the view from the balcony. His free hand comes to sneak under the turtle neck, scratching the side of his neck. “God this is itchy,” he mumbles under his breath, slightly frustrated.

“It’s too hot for a turtle neck anyway,” Amber says, her brows furrowed. “It must be irritating your skin,”

“Yeah,” Rafe mutters, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and letting out a plume of smoke. He knows better than to take the turtle neck off though, the thought of revealing the dark bruises left by you causes a small shudder to go down his spine — knowing Amber will be extremely concerned and will press on the matter.

Even then, his fingers reach out to itch under the turtle neck again, the material really irritating his skin. He pushes the fabric aside to grant him more skin to itch, but just as he does that, Amber catches the sight of the bruises marked on his skin; and these ones just so happen to be the darkest ones he has.

“Oh my god,” her soft voice comes out laced with concern as she steps closer to him, her fingers wanting to reach out to soothe his skin with her gentle touch. “What happened are you okay? That looks really bad,”

Rafe looks down at her, her frame almost comically smaller than his. He can see the concern etched on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips downturned in a frown.

“I’m… I’m fine,” he mutters, focusing back out at the view from the balcony, taking another hit of his cigarette.

“Are you sure? Cause that looks really bad Rafe,” she murmurs, gently placing a hand on his arm, looking up at him.

The moment she touches her arm, he tenses for a fraction of second, but then immediately relaxes. There is something about her touch that you don’t have; that tenderness and the warmth that has always been missing from your touch. And her voice, it’s gentle. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you talk to him in such a gentle voice.

“Did someone beat you up?” She asks, her voice soft.

Beat him up? Oh, he wishes.

His mind goes back to you, the way he locked you in the store room. He knows there’s a window in the room, and knowing you, he also knows you definitely escaped from that window.

“No, someone didn’t beat me up,” He says back, his voice losing any edge it may have, taking a completely tender tone. There’s something so soothing about the way she’s talking to him, and it just makes him want to open up to him about anything and everything.

“Someone didn’t beat you up? Then how did you get them?” She asks. God, he thinks. Her concern, her gentleness, her touch… He’s losing himself in it, a little too quickly.

Maybe it’s because he’s been deprived of this gentleness for way too long.

“You won’t believe me if I told you the answer,” he says, his gaze looking down at her to meet her eyes.

“You’re concerning me Rafe, really,” she mutters, her fingers still wrapped around his arm. And Rafe doesn’t want her to let go.

He takes another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll off his lips.

“It’s my girlfriend– but, but I ended things with her today,” he mutters.

He gauges her reaction; her widened eyes, her lips parting twice to say something but no words coming out.

She knows about his girlfriend, well, everyone does, but he didn’t know about this.

“She did this to you?” Amber mutters incredulously. “That’s… that’s kind of crazy,”

“Kind of?” Rafe says amusedly. “It’s very crazy. I was…” he takes a deep breath, looking up from her and back out at the scenery. “I was suffocated with her. I was never able to express myself. She was extremely possessive, always wanting to… mark me as hers a certain way. It was hard to leave her but I did it, I finally did it today,”

Amber’s facial expressions contort to one of slightly relaxed, though the concern is still evident.

“Wow,” she mutters. “I’m very glad you were able to break things off with her, you don’t deserve to be treated this way Rafe, no one does,”

He turns back down to look at her, his eyes sinking into hers. They’re so warm and beautiful, a kind blue just like his. There’s gentleness in her words and the way she’s still holding onto his arm.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, “that… that means a lot to me you know? I’m… I’m just glad I was able to escape her,”

“Yeah,” she says softly, her fingers rubbing small circles on his forearm. It seems more or less like an instinctive movement, as if this is how she always likes to soothe someone.

And damn, is he starved for some gentle loving just like this.

A silence falls over them, Rafe’s eyes not flickering away from hers. She’s looking up at him, her doe eyes wide but extremely comforting, her gentle rubbing on his arm relaxing him to an infinite extent.

As if a gravitation pull exerts it’s force on him, he finds himself leaning closer to her, his eyes now training down over her lips. They’re so soft looking, so full, and he has a very strong urge to taste them.

Amber doesn’t pull back, she’s watching him lean closer, her own body reacting and leaning closer to him. Midway, Rafe’s lips are just a hair’s breadth from hers, and he takes the leap, pressing his lips to hers.

For a moment, no one moves, their lips joined in a gentle press. But then, Amber takes the initiative, gently moving her lips against his.

Rafe responds, his hand which isn’t holding the cigarette coming to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. Her hands reach up to wrap around his neck, the kiss soft, slow and incredibly tender.

Rafe gently pulls back, creating just the slightest distance between him and her. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he soaks in the moment.

No words are exchanged between them, but he knows they both feel a mutual understanding.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

PRESENT

The rain begins to pour down harder, the drops of water on the grassy lawn gleaming under the occasional strike of lightning. Black umbrellas matching the black outfits are put up by almost everyone, covering everyone’s head by the shelter.

Except one.

Rafe is on his knees right next to the coffin, his fingers gripping the edge of it so tightly his knuckles are beginning to turn white. His head bows down to rest on the edge in between his hands, quiet sobs erupting out of his throat. The raindrops trail over his clothes, making him sopping wet, but he doesn’t care – even when he’s been politely asked to get under an umbrella to cover himself.

Everyone knew well about Rafe’s and Amber’s relationship. God, they loved them. Rafe, the Kook prince, and Amber, the Kook princess. Their fathers; bestest of friends. It’s like people could imagine them getting married even when they weren’t of age. The children of the most powerful men of Outer Banks were meant to take over the island together.

But the dreams were shattered like frail glass when Amber’s death was announced. And it wasn’t some untimely death — it was a murder. A clear gash was present at her chest right where she was stabbed.

Police investigations were started, Rafe paid an incessant amount of money to get the best of detectives on the case, but the murderer was good.

Too damn good.

The murderer didn’t leave a single trace of their presence. They were sharp and quick. It was just a flash of lightning, and the knife was driven in Amber’s chest, and she was declared dead.

The investigations started months ago, and even now, any path they take to find out about the murderer is a dead end.

Almost the entire Figure 8 is invited to the funeral; including you.

You stand at the very end of the crowd, black clothes on your body and a black umbrella over your head, protecting you from the rain.

Your eyes scan over the procession, watching the funeral ceremony taking place in the burial ground where Amber’s coffin is meant to be buried. You can hear the quiet sobs from the front, from Amber’s family, her siblings and cousins, her friends, and from Rafe.

Your gaze zeroes on him as a man begins to gently pull Rafe up from his knees and to get him away from the coffin, because it’s time to take the coffin away for the burial. You see Rafe protesting, his hands reaching out to catch a glimpse of Amber; it doesn’t matter if it’s her coffin. He just wants to feel her, one last time, before she leaves his life completely.

His sobs get louder, dry screams erupting from his throat as the coffin gets carried away. Amber’s mother carefully approaches him and takes him in her arms, her own eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears stream down her cheeks.

As time passes, everyone begins to disperse the burial ground, even Amber’s family, except for Rafe. Her family gently pleads with him to leave too, but he refuses. ‘Just five more minutes’ is what he mumbles in his voice hoarse from all his sobbing to Amber’s mother, who squeezes his hand in return and lets him stay.

And now, everyone has left, but you’re still standing in the same position, watching Rafe, who’s sitting on the wet grass, the rain which is now reduced to a drizzle still showering over him.

You carefully make your way over to him and get down on your knees next to him, letting your umbrella cover him too.

He looks up when he realizes he’s not feeling the raindrops fall on him anymore, his teary eyes finding yours. Completely drowned in the whirlpool of his emotions, he didn’t realize you are still there.

It’s silent for a few moments as Rafe sits with him hugging his knees close to his chest, his head resting on them. You sit next to him, making sure to keep him protected from the rain.

“Rafe…” you murmur after a few more moments of utter silence pass over you both. You gently place a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at you — his bloodshot eyes drooping from tiredness.

Another moment of silence passes by, the space around you filled only with the sound of the raindrops pattering on your umbrella. The rain seems to slow down even more, the gloomy clouds beginning to light up.

You can see Rafe’s facade beginning to crumble, his need to be comforted washing over the need to be alone and away from you, and ever so slowly, he leans closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You let your free arm quickly wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer, your hand rubbing over his back.

The sobs he had started to bury inside himself start sputtering out, his body squeezing closer to you, every fiber of his being craving comfort as he buries his face in his neck and lets himself go, his tears falling against the skin of your neck.

“Shhh Rafe you’re okay, I’m here, I’m here for you,” you mumble softly in his ear. His hands come to wrap around your frame tightly, as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

You finally have him in your arms again, the only arms he should ever be in, the only arms that should be comforting him, the only arms that should ever hold him.

You lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead to comfort him more as you repeat soft words to soothe him as much as you can. When Rafe makes no move to pull himself away from you, you slightly tighten your hold around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

You let him hold you however he desires, and cry how much he wants.

As you keep on rubbing your hand over his back to soothe him, your gaze looks out at the stretch of the burial ground, your eyes following the path along which Amber’s coffin was carried.

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the reality of the situation settle in you.

Amber’s out of Rafe’s life, and he is back where he belongs.

A small satisfied smile quirks the corners of your lips all the while Rafe’s face remains tucked in the crook of your neck, his hands holding onto you as if you’re his last lifeline.

Game over, Amber.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @rafedrewandjjs

specific tags for this fic: @ietss / @mileyraes / @ilyrafe / @runningfrom2am / @congratsloserr

@ladyinbl00d / @zyafics / @karmasloverrr / @rafesgiirl

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sethsclearwater · 5 months ago

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Hi!!!! I have absolutely fallen in love with your Embry call writings 🤍🌙 I was wondering if I could request a camping trip fic where the pack goes camping for a while and just the fun and cute things you and Embry would do together. I think them cuddling by a camp fire or sleeping in a tent together would be so cute

love this lol!

...

"i think i'm genuinely going to wring jared's neck tomorrow if he picks up another one of those fuckin' bugs," you grumbled as you stepped into the tent you were sharing with your imprinter, haphazardly stepping over embry so you could get to your side of the makeshift bed you two had set up.

embry let out a breathy laugh, not looking bothered in the slightest as he had one arm bent and resting behind his head while the other rested on his bare abdomen, the blanket resting right at his hips.

"i think kim already gave him an earful about it if that helps anything," he soothed, watching you adoringly as you rolled your eyes, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it into the duffle bag on the other side of the small tent.

he watched you, clearly a bit entranced by you while you got changed into some pajamas but not in a sexual way - something you'd gotten used to since you started dating embry. although he was definitely obsessed with your body, he wasn't constantly trying to fuck you which you learned to appreciate seeing how sore you usually were after.

"i hope she did. i'm pretty sure i got bit by at least 3 of those things thanks to him," you added, your jeans joining your shirt as you pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top - the unforgiving heat the past few days making you even more grateful you'd opted to bring some lighter clothes with you.

embry just let out another breathy laugh, lifting his hand from his abdomen to take your hand into his, helping you get down next to him so you could join him on the bed. it wasn't comfortable by any means but having the option to sleep half on top of embry had saved your back from aching the past few nights.

you were quick to lay down with him, both of you laying on opposite sides so you could face each other, "well the good news is we should be leaving tomorrow so you and your bug bites don't have to last much longer," he teased, both of you letting out laughs at that one.

you had definitely enjoyed camping with the pack, something you knew embry knew, but you were definitely more than ready to get back to the comfort of your apartment and take a much needed everything shower.

before you could respond to embry, the zipper to your tent was being undone and none other than jared cameron stuck his head through the entryway, lighting up when he saw you and embry were still up, "bold move cameron," you started, playfully glaring at him as you sat up, fully ready to sprint out of the tent in the event that he had another one of those fucking bugs with him.

"he already fucked you this morning - no way you two were going to be going at it again," he laughed when your glare deepened, your sex life with embry an unfortunate casualty to the public pack mind-link.

"at least one of us is getting laid," you countered and embry let out a loud laugh with that one, his chest reverberating with the intensity of it at jared scowled at you, clearly not expecting your mutual allies (embry and kim) to have dished out the details when you asked them earlier that day.

"you know i was coming here to make a peace treaty but clearly you're far too wicked to come to a truce-" jared drolled dramatically, "i even had a s'more for you and everything," he added, sticking his hand in the tent to show off his metaphorical white flag, a rather good looking s'more.

your scowl turned to a smile as you suddenly realized just how much you had wanted a s'more, suddenly much more ready to forge a truce with the shapeshifter, "the s'more definitely helps your case," you started, voice trailing off as you looked up at him, "but i will only call a truce if you agree to not bring another one of those bugs around me again," you negotiated, smiling even bigger when you felt embry's hand slide over yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he silently backed up your truce.

jared, always a woman pleaser, seemed to ponder your proposition for a moment before slowly nodding, "you have my word y/l/n," he agreed, handing you the s'more before he was saluting you, a goofy smile on his face as he winked at your imprinter before ducking back out of the tent.

you laughed, zipping the tent shut with your free hand before you were laying back down with embry, "you want half?" you asked, breaking the s'more in half as you already knew his answer.

embry's smile deepened, both of you wearing the expressions only love drunk fools would know, and took half of the s'more from you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, "you're the best," he mused, brown eyes twinkling as he watched you take a big bite of jared's truce s'more.

you could hardly contain your laugh as you chewed, quickly swallowing before you responded, "oh i know," you teased, squealing when embry placed a big kiss on your lips. your giggles were muffled by his lips on yours, both of you almost immediately falling into each other as you enjoyed your final night of camping.

#embry call #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #embry call blurb #embry call oneshot #embry call fluff #embry call twilight #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight blurb #imagine #blurb #fluff

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valley-of-headcanons · 6 months ago

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hello!!! i just started following your blog recently and i love your headcanons :] !!

i wanted to request some headcanons about the farmer's first kiss with the bachelors and bachelorettes :3c (can be separate posts if needed! no rush <3)

maybe things like where and when it'll happen, if it's early on or later on in their relationship, if they even have a relationship yet when it does happen, etc. :0

thanks so much for reading this lol, and keep up the good work!!! <3

bachelors' first kiss with farmer || headcanons

sharing such a magical experience with your lover is better than you could've ever imagined! <3 part two here!

warning: alcoholism and self-hatred in shane's part (relapsing), a few kisses without explicit consent. guys, please learn some decency 🙄

requested by: anon! hi, so sorry for the late response! thank you for the request though, i deeply appreciate it! such a cute one too! :) i hope you enjoy, because i had a ton of fun writing it! part two will be out eventually :)

alex

• Alex wouldn't wait to kiss you, to be honest. It would essentially be right after a love confession, even before you two start officially dating. He's too overjoyed with the fact that you actually feel the same about him, and he really wants to show you. After dinner and the saloon, the night he confessed to you, he walked you home like the true gentleman he is. As he walked you to your dimly like doorstep, he held your hand for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that he didn't want to leave yet, or ever.

• He took a deep breath before softly taking both of your hands in his. “Can I give you a goodnight kiss? Even if it's on the cheek, I don't mind. I want to make sure you're comfortable ... but I also want to make you feel loved. Whatever you're comfortable with is perfectly fine,” he said with a nervous smile. The soft glow of your porch light illuminated you so perfectly, he didn't want to lose this picture of you. You're so perfect in his eyes.

• After you let him know that it was okay to kiss you, he slowly rested his hands on your waist in the most respectful manner he could. Once he noticed you were okay with it, he slowly leaned into your lips. The kiss felt like sparks flew across your yard. It was soft but the passion behind it wasn't concealed. The fast heartbeat in both of your chests sounded like a metronome on the verge of short-circuiting. It was so, so lovely.

elliot

• Elliott and patience doesn't seem to pair well. Did we really expect him to wait very long? In all seriousness, it would probably be before the actual confession. He wouldn't do it unless he saw reciprocating signs, of course. You two were relaxing on the beach one night, watching the dark waves under the moonlight. The conversation was deeply poetic and romantic, explaining life's mysteries with metaphors and similes like it was just common knowledge.

• “The moon and the sun are so distant from each other, but they're nothing without the other. The moon wouldn't have its light, the sun would have nothing to show its light to. But once in a lifetime, they eclipse each other for just a moment ... do you think that this moment is an eclipse? You, the sun, and I, the moon? ... I find the idea quite enchanting ...” he said, his eyes tracing your face.

• He locks eyes with you, analyzing your expression with everything he can. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it against your own, almost like a test. When you don't pull away and instead move closer, that's when he knows. He leans into you slowly, so that if you want to pull away, you can. You don't. Your lips connect like the waves crashing on the shore beside you; the moon's heart strings are certainly tied to the ocean. Strong but calming, pulling you deeper and deeper. What a way to end a beautiful night.

harvey

• Harvey wouldn't kiss you until you're in a relationship, and it might take a while. He wanted to make it special! He's so unsure about the romantic aspect of life since he's so stuck in his work. So, he decided to make it special! He invited you to the forest after dark, where he had set up a picnic blanket. Candles were all over the area, but you soon discovered that they were fake candles, because Harvey wouldn't be caught dead causing a forest fire. A nice meal was prepared, something Harvey cooked himself. This dinner was for your six month anniversary.

• He nervously asks, “So ... I-I know that this is our sixth month anniversary, and I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me?” You're surprised, but you oblige. He puts on some soft, slow-dance music and offers his hand. He's not very good, but he can sway. You notice the nervous look on face and the slight sweat on his hands as you dance below the stars. You ask what's wrong.

• “... would it be okay if I- ... uh ... kissed you?” Harvey asked with a small, nervous smile. He was so embarrassed, but when you gave a nod, he was over the moon. He cupped your cheek with his hand, staring into your starstruck eyes before leaning in. The kiss was so incredibly soft, sweet, and caring. It felt like you were lifted into the star-studded sky, laying gently on a cloud. It was beautiful and definitely worth the wait.

sam

• It wouldn't take Sam too long to kiss you. Maybe a week or two at most. He likes the romantic aspect of a relationship, but kissing is kissing in his eyes! It's not the most serious part in his opinion, but it's pretty cool, right? It would happen the night of his first concert with you two officially a couple. You stood at the edge of the stage, staring up to watch him perform. The crowd was small, but they were heavily enjoying the music. Specifically, the song he wrote for you.

• At the end of the night after the crowd goes home, you ran to hug him. You tell him how amazing the concert and how you feel about the song he wrote you. “I'm so glad you loved it! I wrote it a little while ago, back when I started crushing on you. It's a sweet little tune. We didn't really start composing the instruments and shit until I realized I was in love with you- ... oh fuck, I didn't- but- ... I love you. I really do love you. More than anything, actually ...” Maybe this was a little more serious than just a kiss.

• Sam's face was bright red, both from the sweat after performing and his bashfulness. When you said it back, he practically jumped for joy. He held you tightly within his arms and pressed kisses all over your face. He hesitated, before kissing your lips. Fireworks, an array of colors exploded as your lips met. The world disappeared while you were in his arms, just every color you could ever think of.

sebastian

• Sebastian would probably kiss you before you two officially started dating. But, you'd immediately start dating after, he doesn't like loose strings like that. When he showed you his bike one night, he asked if you wanted to take a ride to the city. After he shoved a helmet on your head, you were both good to go. Holding onto the back of him for dear life was enough to make both of your faces flush with color. As you two made it to your destination, he really couldn't get that moment out of his mind.

• You two were on the outskirts of the city, a small park that Sebastian liked to visit. He couldn't shake the feeling of your arms around him ... maybe it was a sign. “Hey, do you wanna go bike riding again soon? I didn't expect to like it so much with company, but I guess you're an exception ... my face isn't red- how can you even see? There are no lights except the stars! ... fine, you win, but it's your fault. You ... there's a lot of things about you that make me blush, okay? ...”

• The two of you sat under the stars in the cold, wet grass as he stared into your eyes. “... you look so pretty in the light of the stars, is this how you look every night? ... can I kiss you?” he asked, his face bright red and his freckles illuminated. When you nodded, he softly pressed his lips against yours. He was gentle, but his hand slowly slid to your lower back to pull you in a little more. The kiss was the flickers of a fireplace, contained but oh so warm. It felt like warmth, peace, and home. Maybe this was where you belonged.

shane

• It would take Shane a while to warm up to the idea of being in a relationship, and an even longer time to kiss you. He's always worried about how serious this will be, and he doesn't want to kiss you if you're just going to end up wasting his time. However, he's convinced in enough time. You two were sitting at the pier at the lake below your farm, and he was a bit tipsy. He had relapsed again, but not by too much. He was only a bit tipsy, but definitely emotional. You two were a few weeks into dating, and he didn't entirely trust you yet, but ... he was working on it.

• He was ranting, severely upset. “I tried so hard this time, but it just got away from me. I don't get it! Everyone tries so hard to stop me but I always find a way to get back to the bottle. You try ... so fuckin' hard to stop me. I let you down ev'ry damn time- I always let you down! It pisses me off how hard you try and how passionate you are! I-I just- ...” he says, his voice beginning to break as he looks into your eyes.

• Your were about to speak before his lips attached to yours. It was as though lightning struck you, his hand resting on your waist as he kissed you with an unprecedented amount of passion. It shocked your body to the core, but you couldn't get enough of it. He was desperate for this, he needed this. Whether it be the liquor on his lips or his sober thoughts, this was the one thing he wanted.

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aether-starlight · 10 months ago

Text

You’re the Fish

Pairing: Rafayel x Grumpy!Reader

Warnings: None. Kinda enemies to lovers vibe.

Summary: Rafayel texts you to come over for an emergency. His concept of it is vastly different from yours.

Word count: 700 words.

You didn’t bother to keep the door from slamming in your wake, sprinting into the room to find Rafayel sitting on the floor, brush in hand.

“Do you ever check your phone?” You seethed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear.

He didn’t even bother to look at you, enraptured on the canvas before him.

“Not really, but I’ve been known to answer faster to texts starting with ‘baby’ or ‘sweetness’, even.”

“How about pompous prick?”

Rafayel sent you one of those infuriating smiles, unfazed as ever.

“Ooh, someone’s prickly. Rough day at work, Miss Bodyguard?”

“For one: I’m not your bodyguard.” You kneeled by his side and snatched the brush out of his hand. “Second: where exactly is the emergency in this situation?”

Rafayel raised a languid brow.

“Can’t you see?” He gestured at the painting before him, splattered with hues of citrine and turquoise. “It’s a mess.”

It looked like something out of a museum.

Your stare became deadly, words slowly spelled out as you asked: “You made me rush to the outskirts of the city, breaking who knows how many speed limits…for a painting?”

Rafayel’s mirthful gaze withered. Something almost embarrassed crept into his features as his eyes darted between you and the painting.

“Well, I…you see—“

“I thought a Wanderer was kicking your ass!” You exploded.

By that point, he was almost pouting.

“They wouldn’t be kicking my ass, per se.”

You faked solemnity, shaking your head.

“Of course not, maybe just gravely injuring or maiming, nothing too extreme.”

Finally, both of you settled into silence.

He was now looking at his hands, half-mindedly rubbing at the spots of paint coloring his knuckles and the sides of his palms.

Beneath the warm light of the vintage lamp beside the canvas, part of his initial bravado seemed to wane.

The circles beneath the mauve of his eyes became clearer, his hair less of its usual perfect styling.

You sighed, and felt yourself soften. Stress bled out of your body, allowing your shoulders to relax, easing the line at your brow.

“Why am I here, Rafayel? The real reason.”

“Does there have to be a reason?” He asked, petulant as a child.

“Isn’t there always?”

Rafayel brightened, leaning his body closer to yours.

“You see, this reminds me of a story, of a man who was adamant on catching one very specific fish. So obsessed in fact, that when he finally caught it, he had to let it go.“

Your brows furrowed, attempting to stay in the line of his erratic storytelling, all moving hands and vivid intonation.

Rafayel was like that in a way. You soon discovered that your best shot at deciphering how he felt was inside fantasy.

Stories and narratives weren’t just entertainment for him, they were a window to his heart and mind.

The weather would never just be the weather, just like a story was never just a story.

“Am I the fish or the man in this metaphor?”

Rafayel’s gaze was half hidden by long eyelashes.

“Guess. I’d like you to be one, but you’re the other.”

“Maybe I’m none.”

“You are no fun.”

“And you are impractical.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Whatever you say, Miss Bodyguard.”

You observed him for a second, following the light curve at the corners of his lips, and the tired tilt of his shoulders.

“Rafayel.”

“Hm?”

When his gaze met yours there was something unguarded about it.

“You don’t have to catch me.” You cradled one of his hands in yours, returning the brush to its rightful owner. “Just tell me you want to hang out next time.”

Some of his usual flirty self returned at that.

“We’d be up to no good, I would hope.”

You shook your head, a traitorous smile blooming on your face, and if Rafayel felt his heart stutter at it, he would attribute it to exhaustion.

“You’re incorrigible.”

You gave the painting one last look and had to do a double take.

The once abstract shapes were now connecting into something more, soul peeking out from the impeccable technique.

“Rafayel, is that my face?!”

#love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace Rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deep space rafayel

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junabuggy · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I love your writing! Would you be up for writing a fic where reader has super bad separation anxiety from Al, but he has to go somewhere without them and either Angel Dust or Husk is in charge of taking care of them/keeping them calm while he’s gone? Thanks a bunch!!! ❤️

Separation anxiety! GN! Reader x Alastor/husker?

A/n: Of course !! Honestly this has been super fun and I’m more than grateful for all the people who seem to enjoy my silly little fanfictions/headcanons, many thanks everybody ♥️♥️

Also, if you couldn’t tell from a lot of my writing, I’ve taken quite a liking to Alastor… So I get it, I love him too y’all ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Warnings: Mentions of separation anxiety, Mentions of alcohol, Alastor being Alastor so light mentions of blood and cannibalism (doesn’t actually happen)

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

Hope yall don’t mind a few headcanons first about this :33

📻𖤐 it’s hard to tell how Alastor would realistically react to someone being attached to him in that way..

📻𖤐 Like do I think it would bother him? No, he wouldn’t mind you tagging along wherever he went as long as you didn’t bother him too much or get in the way of things but there are just times where he requires or wants to be alone. Which is where Husker would come in lol

📻𖤐 He probably wouldn’t leave you with Angel, even if Husk wasn’t available for whatever reason he’d just get Charlie to look after you while he was away.

📻𖤐 I feel like he cares/loves in an odd way.. like he wants to tear you apart and lick up all your delicious, sweet blood but in an affectionate way??? If that makes sense?? Remember that pomegranate cannibalism metaphor that went around on TikTok for a bit there? Think that.

📻𖤐 of course, he wouldn’t do that, he wants to keep you around.

Okok I’m done yapping about silly radio man lol, onto the fic

Unfortunately, today was one of those days you couldn’t tag along with where Alastor went, he was attending an overlord meeting and obviously you not being an overlord it meant that you couldn’t go with him despite all of your protests and begging.

Before his departure, he sat you down at the bar with Husker and gave you a little pat on the head, telling you that he’d be back shortly and walking out of the hotel doors.

The grumpy cat demon poured himself a drink as he stared at you, this wasn’t exactly the first time Alastor had left him on “babysitting” duty with you and he didn’t exactly mind it. You were quite sweet for somebody who landed themselves in a place like hell.

“Where’s he off to this time?” Husker asked before taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage he held in his hand, attempting to make some form of conversation with you.

“Oh.. just some kind of silly overlord meeting…” You mumbled out a short reply whilst looking a bit glum. He simply nodded in response, setting his glass down on the bar countertop to mix you up a little something as well.

Husk didn’t understand your attachment to the Radio Demon to be completely frank with you. He and a lot of others viewed Alastor as something to fear, respect, and try to avoid contact with the best they could… so seeing someone who enjoyed his company was a foreign idea to him. But he wouldn’t judge you for it. It wasn’t exactly his business anyways and at least he seemed to treat you decently.

“Don’t stress it kid, he’ll be back soon. He keeps his promises I’ll give him that much.” Husk attempted to reassure you, giving a slight smile as he slid a drink down to you.

You smiled back weakly and nodded, taking a deep breath as you grabbed the drink he had slid over to you. You took a sip and it tasted like a screwdriver, not too bad of a drink and it would probably take your mind off of things a little bit if you had a few of them. Which was probably the goal Husker was trying to reach.. he couldn’t imagine separation anxiety to be very fun.

Later into the night once you got a few drinks in you, you started to forget all about why you were upset and/or stressed out in the first place. Chatting with Husk about random stuff and occasionally mentioning and talking about a person or two.

Husk wished there were more nights like this, more time spent with you… and who knows? Maybe you’ll be visiting the bar more often for him after tonight if he was lucky. He was pretty good at playing his cards right, after all.

(Sorry this was kinda short !! I wasn’t sure what else to write. Lmk if you guys maybe want a part two with Alastor coming back from his little meeting, I might do that :3)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

#requests open #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #husker #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel comfort #angel dust

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0omillo0 · 29 days ago

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Dude hear me out: han and 9th member reader doing the teen vogue compliment battle and reader is trying to bring the ✨rizz✨ while han keeps doing the goofy voice with

HAN X READER

VOGUE COMPLIMENT BATTLE

a/n: I really liked this idea I hope this is what you wanted <3

ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Setting: Stray Kids and Y/N are invited by Vogue for their “Compliment Battle” series. The challenge is to take turns reading fan comments in the most dramatic way possible. The catch? You can’t laugh. Whoever stays serious the longest wins the round.

The crew is gathered on set, with everyone seated in pairs. Y/N is up first, facing off against Felix, while Han watches from the sidelines.

Vogue Producer: “Alright, for the first round, we have Felix and Y/N. Let’s see who can keep it together!”

Felix (giving a warm smile): “I’m ready to win this!”

Y/N (laughing): “Don’t get too confident, Lix.”

They both sit across from each other, and the producer hands them some tweets to read.

Felix (reading dramatically): “Y/N, your smile is brighter than the sun, and your laugh is the cure to all my bad days. Marry me, please.”

Y/N giggles but tries to maintain composure.

Felix: He leans in, grinning, and takes Y/N’s hands dramatically. “Did you hear that? They need you. You’ve cured them. You’ve healed their soul.”

Y/N (struggling not to smile): “Felix, stop. You’re making it worse.”

Han watches from the sidelines, eyebrows furrowing as Felix holds Y/N’s hands. He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair with a small pout.

Han (muttering): “Why’s he gotta hold her hands like that…”

Lee Know (noticing Han’s expression): “Are you jealous already? It’s the first round.”

Han (quickly): “No. Just… competitive, you know?”

Vogue Producer: “Alright, Y/N’s turn.”

Y/N (grinning as she reads): “Felix, your freckles are a constellation that guides me through my darkest nights. How can one person be this ethereal?”

Felix smiles wide, clearly flattered, but he’s trying hard not to crack.

Felix (fanning himself): “Stop, I’m blushing.”

Y/N dramatically reaches out to lightly cup Felix’s cheek.

Y/N (whispering, trying to flirt): “Don’t blush too much, angel. We need your beauty to stay intact.”

Felix starts laughing, breaking the game, and the producer calls the round. Y/N wins, but all eyes are on Han, who is visibly not amused by Felix and Y/N’s playful flirting.

Han (quietly to himself): “Seriously, with the cheek touch? I could’ve done better…”

Vogue Producer: “Next up, Y/N versus Han. This should be fun!”

Han straightens up, determined to be goofy and break Y/N’s composure. They take their seats, facing each other.

Y/N (smiling): “Ready to lose, Han?”

Han (grinning mischievously): “I don’t think so. I’ve got a secret weapon—my charm.”

Y/N (smirking): “Is that what you’re calling it these days?”

Han (reading in an exaggerated, goofy voice): “Y/N, your beauty transcends time and space. Every time you walk into a room, it feels like all of my troubles melt away… like butter on hot toast.”

He makes a dramatic “melting” gesture with his hands.

Y/N (already stifling a laugh): “Not the toast metaphor, Han.”

Han (deepening his voice comically): “But it’s true! You’re the butter to my toast, the ketchup to my fries.”

The whole room laughs, and Y/N has to bite her lip not to crack.

Y/N’s turn. She leans forward, eyes locking with Han’s, and lowers her voice into a flirtatious tone.

Y/N (softly): “Han… every time you laugh, it’s like music to my ears. Your smile? It lights up my world. And honestly? I think about it all the time.”

The room goes quiet, expecting Han to start goofing off, but he’s suddenly caught off guard. He blinks, clearly taken aback. Thinking maybe it’s not a fan who wrote it.

Y/N (leaning in even more): “You make everything better just by being there. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Han doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks genuinely surprised, his playful smile faltering. The atmosphere shifts slightly, and Y/N, realizing she might’ve sounded too serious, quickly pulls back with a teasing grin.

Y/N (laughing): “Come on, don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

Han (flustered, trying to recover): “I—uh, no! No, I’m just… I didn’t expect that. You’re really trying to win, huh?”

The producer calls time, ending the round. Y/N wins again, but Han is left quietly staring at her, clearly still thinking about her words.

After the challenge, backstage.

Han is pacing around, clearly conflicted. He approaches Y/N as she’s grabbing water, the others busy with interviews.

Han (hesitant): “Hey, uh, Y/N.”

Y/N (turning around, smiling): “Yeah? What’s up?”

Han (awkwardly scratching the back of his neck): “So… about what you said. During the challenge. Were you, uh, were you just messing with me, or…?”

Y/N pauses, sensing his nervousness, and a soft smile tugs at her lips.

Y/N (teasing): “Which part? The part where I said you light up my world, or that I think about you all the time?”

Han (flustered): “Both. I mean… you don’t actually think about me all the time, do you?”

Y/N takes a step closer, their eyes meeting. She lowers her voice, her playful tone softening.

Y/N: “Maybe I do.”

Han’s eyes widen slightly, his heart skipping a beat.

Han: “Wait, really? You mean that?”

Y/N (grinning): “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Han stares at her for a moment, realizing she’s serious. He chuckles softly, his usual goofiness replaced with a warm smile.

Han (quietly): “Well, maybe I think about you a lot too. Just… didn’t know how to say it.”

Y/N’s teasing expression softens as she steps even closer.

Y/N: “Guess we’re both bad at saying things, huh?”

Han lets out a small laugh, feeling the tension ease between them. But there’s something different now—an unspoken understanding.

Han: “I guess so. But you know what? I’m glad you said it.”

They share a quiet moment, the game long forgotten. In the background, they can hear the others laughing and talking, but for now, it’s just the two of them.

Y/N (smirking again, breaking the moment): “Does this mean I officially won the challenge, by the way?”

Han (laughing): “Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll get you back next time. Maybe with more toast metaphors.”

Y/N: “Bring it on, butter-boy.”

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feroluce · 7 months ago

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So I spoke somewhat about my thoughts on Emanator Sampo here, but I never really thought of it from a design point of view or what kind of powers he would have until just recently. But I actually kind of love leaning into it from a "stage hand" perspective?

Because like. Aha's body in THEIR official art is completely black, giving attention to all the fun brightly colored things around THEM. And that's so fitting for Sampo! He usually prefers to be a side character. He likes to act from the shadows. His is a much more subtle hand.

So I wonder if as an Emanator, a lot of his clothes are actually very dark? Not necessarily plain, still extravagant and needlessly detailed in things like cut and quality with lots of different fabrics and textures and ornamentation, but dark. Or maybe even his skin itself becomes blackened further down his body; his hands in particular are dark, as a sort of sleight of hand reference.

The motif of a lot of straps wrapped around him like in his canon design is still present, but they're all loose and flowing off of him like paper streamers now instead of restraining him or holding him together. He is no longer contained! Or maybe they're still a bit more rigid/heavy, but just draped more like red stage curtains!

And this is like. Fully self-indulgent, but I love inhuman designs, and there's nothing in canon to say I can't do this, so screw it! Go for broke!! Maybe it's not visible to normal people, but Sampo having a second set of arms would be really cool, as further sleight of hand reference. One set is almost normal looking, but his hands are a bright, attention-drawing white, and the other is dark, set almost in the shadows of the first arms, to act less noticeably.

He also has something of a broken heart design to him in canon (the front of his black shirt with its jagged shape down the middle; his coat looks like a full heart shape in the back), and I actually like him keeping that element as an Emanator, because I think it suits him. Sampo says his taste in aesthetics and views on Elation involve human dignity,

and the story he helps create in Belobog involves the long and winding road of resistance and survival and eventual triumph in the face of some very adverse, oppressing odds. (I'm pretty sure I heard he once called Wildfire "artless" though, plus the man acts like he thinks Shame is some kind of dessert, so like ndkdjzjskkd) But the point being!!

I think Sampo is someone who can appreciate heartbreak and angst and tragedy in a story, because it makes the victory at the end all the sweeter. And this would be another thing he shares with Aha, because I think THEY did bless the Mourning Actors partly just to be a little shit, but also because Aha does recognize tragedy as part of THEIR Path, too, and you can see it in some of the game. So a broken heart motif can still suit him, and I like him having elements of both comedy and tragedy. Like his clothing having a happy sun/sad moon (like the moon in Aha's art) or him having both of the traditional comedy/tragedy masks in his design.

And as Emanator, Sampo can maybe play with the stage settings environment, too. Like lights sometimes behave strangely around him, appearing blindingly bright to someone or dramatically dark. Sampo wills it and suddenly there seems to be a metaphorical spotlight right where he wants everyone to look. And when he doesn't want to be noticed, his face seems to be cast in shadow, he seemingly just fades into the background, no one notices or recognizes him and he sneaks away easily. He can create smoke or fog literally out of thin air without his bombs now, too, the air will just suddenly thicken until his stage is obscured, and Sampo can set the scene as he pleases or disappear without a trace.

And in line with being a stage hand, Sampo can direct attention like no other. He was already extremely good at this as a normal mortal, and becoming an Emanator only took it up to 11, past human limits. Sampo points, and all present feel compelled to follow his fingertip. He looks away, and they all follow his gaze. He can even affect the mood of an audience; he can influence everyone to be calm and placid or he can whip them into a feverish frenzy. Sometimes a crowd will start to become unsettled, agitation stirring until it boils over, until it incites a full on violent mob.

And in the middle of all that chaos will stand one perfectly calm figure, face cast in shadow, until they quietly slip away out of sight.

#sampo koski #hsr sampo #emanator sampo #hsr sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #they were talking about Emanator Sampo designs in the Sampard Nation server one night and somehow THAT was what got my mind going fjkdaljfk #there was also talk of him making monsters explode in confetti or making their heads pop off like a jack-in-the-box (my contribution hehe)#which is hilarious but just wasn't super relevant here jfklasdj #(I miss bouncing around ideas like that...if anyone knows another sampard server or even just a sampo-dedicated one hit me up!)#(i would love to join and would probably even have friends to bring!!)#but anyway yes I love Emanator Sampo being stage hand themed haha it's very fun with him #I have a lot of screenshots so I wanna try to use them for things like this more!#I think its in SU where it says Aha isn't as powerful an aeon as some of the others like Qlipoth or Lan or Nanook #so I like Sampo's powers being less direct and not just pure destructive power like a lot of the Destruction Emanators #it lets you get real creative with it <3 #maybe next I'll bring over my thoughts on his mask design? Ooh but I wanna talk about Geppie too...#Geppie protecting his soldiers from Cocolia or the actions he could have taken or his very sweet relationship with Bronya-#-or him being inspired by Serval or his HILARIOUS relationship with Pela...#Decisions decisions...

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a-pen-and-a-nightmare · 10 days ago

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I’ve been working on redesigning an older Bendy oc; for now, here’s some headshot doodles that I made last night to get the idea down.

Here’s some basic ideas I had while working on this:

- Iblis is roughly based on the Ink Demon. It has an older form for BATIM which I want to tweak a bit as i’ve gotten slightly better at character design. Initially Iblis was created by Sammy Lawrence (inspired by a theory that he was deceived by Ink Bendy), thus the rope embedded in its head, and the white candle wax. This may be updated depending on the lore. Iblis was created in 2019 as part of the “candle light challenge” that was hosted on the BATIM Amino, and it became an oc after.

- Iblis used to have many candle wicks in its mouth cavity that could be lit at will, creating a glow. This has been removed in this redesign for a bright light that emanates from its throat which both resembles the light at the end of the “death tunnel”, and fire light which can be exhaled from the throat (just a concept for now). Iblis’ mouth was formerly just a void cavern, but now has a visible skull as I thought it looked creepier (lol).

- Iblis can (and does) consume corrupted ink creatures, while notably being more passive toward the “pure” or “perfect” ones. It does this by simply swallowing bodies like a snake, as it has no teeth. (Please do NOT make fetishized vore art of my oc!!!). The many detached voices that it speaks through is believed to belong to the souls of those that it consumes. It’s yet unknown if Iblis is a harvester of these souls, or just absorbs the voices as part of its being, as it can speak willfully and respond to discussion.

- the idea to give Iblis wings was inspired by Inkfell from Pillar Chase 2

- Iblis is referred to by it/its pronouns but it’s dominant voice is feminine (I may refer to Iblis with She/her pronouns in a silly way. It is okay if you fumble them or use any pronouns, i’m not too serious about it, but Iblis is a sexless being)

- Iblis is a symbol of hope for the people in the cycle, a metaphorical “light in the darkness”. The candles on its body work in the same manner as “smudging”. Iblis is said to “purify” any place within the studio that it wanders through by “cleansing away the demon’s affliction”. It is a mobile incense burner, and the smoke emitted from its body is said to have a sweet smell.

- this is more of a silly / fun fact: Iblis loves handpan music and Woodsoup ASMR as it evokes a sense of calm and clears the mind

#bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #bendy oc #batim oc #batdr oc #digital art #doodle #my art #artist on tumblr

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guardian5tiger3 · 10 months ago

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Tarot pick a group ....

Anything that comes up.

1. 2. 3.

One

You guys are what people call lovers of life. A lot of you are really into some form or forms of art. A lot of you are really wise, open minded , really psychedelic type of individuals know it or not. You have a fresh way of looking at things a lot of the time and other people may feel that way about you all. You're definitely something a lot of people and really what the world needs . It's like you would be something missing and things would be incomplete without your uniqueness. :)

Oddly I got something about fried food maybe some of you work in a restaurant but really I'm getting the energy that you should treat yourself like you love yourself and fuel yourself with love when it comes to anything you take in and just generally the energy you put yourself in and feel. I'm picking up a really light nice energy. So I'm getting a quote from Alan Watts . Oddly I can't find the quote I'm thinking of .. but I saw one that said " waking up to who you are requires letting go of who you imagine yourself to be. "

I seriously can't find the quote some of you should look into Alan Watts and what he talks about. Generally, though, I'm getting you're searching for something maybe consciously or unconsciously and the universe wants to motivate you to continue to do that and I'm feeling a lot of refreshing energy, so if you open yourself up and allow any energy the universe is trying to gift you that. I heard "a peace of mind" and felt in my third eye really calm. And I see a bird with its wings open now. So there's some information or knowledge or wisdom or something and you will find it just stay on the path that you're on and focus on any good vibes around and within you. Spring time also is looking good for you guys a few of you might be moving also seeing about someone adopting a dog if you thought about that this is saying you should or maybe you already know you're gonna idk. For most of you though look forward to spring I see seeds you planted growing metaphorically which is totally with the season, and good surprises and just really good happy fun light energy. Especially!!! If the winter was kind of rough. Even if you just didn't have fun with the weather if you live where it snows. Or any personal struggles with that being a metaphor for that, I saw a heavy snowstorm, so , yeah. :)

Two

I've been getting a lot of weather symbolism so far and I saw like a rain storm for you all. I also got two cards about conflict, in general. So if you can relate to any tense , irritating energy, anything negative going on this is for you . Even just negative vibes especially with other people or for some living situations even for someone something to do with a kid in your life so it really depends and of course is gonna be specific for everyone what it might be. Seems like you've been trying to stay stable and "hold your own" best you can while also trying to go with the flow in terms of regulating your emotions according to the situation at hand. I just got three nines in a row, 999. That can tell you this is all coming to an end around this time or soon ok. Really picking up queen energy too ..? This is kind of strange but I'm picking up on the energy of treasure like you'll have a surprise or gift or something good from the universe like a present cause of this stuff and just y'all being good people thru this stuff and everything as best you can and being very stable for the circumstances or in general, but I initially got it worded and presented like, treasure. Like pirates or something which is funny cuz I just got a pirate sword tattoo haha. I'm also channeling old cartoons for some reason, like Tom and Jerry specifically, the old ones, like when you were a kid chilling Sunday morning watching the cartoons with your bowl of cereal or whatever. That's a vibe a lot of people share having to be able to experience. I rocked with wacky races and Scooby Doo lol. Among others ..Maybe something you're manifesting now goes all the way back to your childhood, somehow that's a hint. I'm also getting candy and heard sweettooth y'all better be careful with all that or find alternatives so to not damage your teeth ok. And if any of you are eating cuz you're bored ok straight up I heavily got play video games lol. I can relate to that. Also going for walks. Some of you need to drink cold water and make sure you're focusing on hygiene in any way. And for anyone feeling like life is bleak or boring or whatever or unexcited I would say stick to a routine and keep yourself busy for now, things always change no matter what that's a rule of life, and something might come to you one day that's a good idea for something to do, a new adventure, hobby, maybe you volunteer somewhere cool or anything really, it seems like you'll just have an idea eventually.

Three

39, 41,14,13 ,15 all might be significant. Maybe something about math and how math works.....? Wtf... Ok....y'all might talk about the matrix or get references to that. Also a lot about nature especially.... During the day. Also about camping. And ....parks? Depends on who you are. Andddd 16. Right I don't know if this all adds up to something or what I've never been super great at math so... Or maybe something is straight up building up to something ...? Lol. Lot of riddle like energy in this. I got humpty Dumpty . Y'all WTF is this . ? This is so specific and doesn't make a lot of sense to me but what I just channeled was like a group of people or at least two chilling like campfire vibes and sharing something to smoke and just hanging out kinda..... Idk if you want a time like that you can manifest it or some of you already have vibed like that idk. Cuz I saw multiple instances around a campfire and not but mainly at night or in the afternoon ,also sitting on steps outside. I guess you guys in your lives right now it's a lot about synchronicities and ... Going with the flow...? I keep picking up on Dora. The explorer. Anyway y'all seem like ok if your lives are all stories at the end of the day and you're in the middle of your journey but it's like a dope journey ,like embrace whatever adventures you're on and all the obstacles you face cause you have a destiny at the end of it. And by end I don't mean the end end I mean once you meet the ending of this your life will go on, after the happy ending (didn't mean to say happy ending but I added happy. :) . ).... Are you guys just confused in life cause I couldn't tell you what any of this means but hey if it resonates than I guess this is your confirmation youre on the right path.

I'm really picking up that the amount of fun you have at this point in your life at any given moment is mostly up to you. I think there's some points in time in the past and future that are destined to be certain vibes. Like looking at the stars or you have a altercation with someone or whatever you know but , I heard "in the meantime" like, for most of the time you can kind of decide to have fun, make things fun, you're free to do whatever you want. Some of you need to hear and absorb that. You are free. So make the most of that. Whatever you feel in any given moment.

Also , in the meantime is a song by spacehog, me being me I'd say listen to the whole album it has a few of my favorite songs on there personally, but yeah that's a great song so I do personally recommend it , too. Also I heard space song, space, traveler. Maybe I'm picking up on song names and don't know. I know space song is obviously a song but idk about traveler or space so idk. If you know a song like with those words it's significant. For some reason I wanna say, have a good day, lol. I hope this makes sense if it was meant for you. :) . Y'all definitely get a happy ending. So worry less and enjoy the moment it couldn't be more clear to me if you resonate with any of this, you definitely get a happy ending and it'll all be more than ok. Just roll with it. ;) 💗

#pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #tarot reading #pac #tarot pac #pac tarot

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eldritch-spouse · 7 months ago

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I want to know how many monsters spend their paychecks at Gallon's bar crying because they developed feelings for Santi 💀

" I just... He's so amazing man. I don't even know why I'm crying, I don't deserve him. "

The latest sad sap cries onto his precious counter. Gallon circumvents them to give Fasma a shot of plain whiskey.

" You really don't. " He mumbles.

" H- Huh? "

" Nothing. Say champ, why not have another night with the hunk if you like him so much? " The bartender tilts his head, trying to cheer up the loser, or get them off his metaphorical nuts.

The monster sniffles, looking into the distance, where none other than the incubus is seen on his knees, hands on his thighs and tongue out as he apparently waits for a woman to squirt in his mouth while her hammered friends cheer her on. Gallon follows their gaze. Yeah, seems like a standard night for the resident manwhore.

" Just look at him, so radiant, so perfect. I don't want sex, dude- I want to love him! "

Fasma grimaces, definitely not because of the alcohol. He's seen Santi effortlessly do some of the dirtiest shit he could ever imagine, the thought of kissing those lips could send the old geezer into an early grave.

Gallon continues to work. " Oh boy. " He hopes this one makes a scene. It's a bit fun when they break down and throw a tantrum because the incubus won't give them the light of day unless they're putting out.

The depressed sod sniffles. " Do you think I have a chance? I... I have his phone number. "

Everyone and their mother has Santi's phone number. Maybe their father too.

Gallon grins creepily wide. " Suuure buddy, give it an honest shot. The worst he can say is no, right? " Fasma wordlessly shakes his head in disapproval of the slime's cruelty.

His client starts clumsily tip-tapping at their phone, likely typing something extensive and heartfelt, and now Gallon has to admit he's invested. If only because he knows how it'll end, and he likes to see the light fade from a hopeless romantic's eyes.

A phone eventually pings on the opposite corner of the counter, Santi's. It prompts the incubus to come over, still sucking the cuntjuice out of his fingers, some coating his chin. He doesn't bother to look around as he unlocks his device and squints at the notification. Gallon, Fasma and the client are eerily silent while he opens the text.

The incubus reads about the first three lines, frowns, then looks up. " Gallon, are you busy? "

" Uhh... Not any more than usual, why? "

The phone is slid his way. " Write me a rejection message here, please. I don't want this one coming back. "

And just like that, he turns back around, likely to see if any of the other girls can play with him too.

Gallon has to contain a maddening bark of laughter that is slowly turning him orange. He didn't even recognize the mess of a monster looking so hopefully at him from just across the counter. Oh that has got to sting!

He absolutely loses his cool and has to muffle his cackling when the monster in question wails brokenly and buries their head in their arms, sobbing like a dejected baby.

Fasma pats their back twice. They need that whiskey more than him.

#Gallon oc #Santi oc #Fasma oc #tce rp ask #pov: Santi rejects you

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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago

Text

TPC: Jihoon’s conundrum with double ds as DD

Series

Pairing: jihoon x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.8k

tags: thicc!reader, mentions of alcohol and being under the influence, Jihoon with rings, reader wearing a skirt and bra, car sex, oral fixation, finger sucking, fingering, body worship, oral (reader giving), breast play, unprotected sex, cream pie, breed kink

Summary: Designated Driver? Jihoon is DD for the night but gets a little too distracted with a pair of DDs.

author note: the series is still alive i swear

Tag list: @iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon @just-here-to-read-01 @candidupped @minnie-mouser22 @shiningstar-byulxx @90s-belladonna @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @lovelyhan @gibbysupremeacyisreal @seokgyuu

Jihoon doesn’t get why he’s invited out to these parties if he doesn’t drink. He starts to understand why after attending so many and taking on the tasks of driving the messy drunks back home at the end of the night. It wasn’t a desirable role to take on but was better than being forced to drink every time he was out. Besides he’s dealt with worse than a bunch of man-children calling after them when their tummy starts hurting.

Tonight, however, was thought to be like any other weekend—he’d eat the party snacks, get his fill of Coke zeros, and eventually drag some usually able-bodied grown adults to his car and take them home—but no other weekend had you. You are the mystery anomaly he can’t keep his eyes off of. He’s gone to tens of hundreds of parties but he’s never met you, someone so enticingly captivating that it’s torture seeing you saunter the seductive way you do, especially towards him. And somehow here you are, falling right in his lap. Metaphorically, of course.

“We’re the only sober ones here, huh?”

You grin back at him with the light of a million stars and he could not see himself in any other world where he wouldn’t smile back.

“Looks like it. I’m driving tonight, so better off I stay sober before rolling my friends out of here.”

You giggle at the truth in his words. “Sorry. I just can't handle alcohol all that well. Plus it’s more fun being somewhat conscious of these kinds of things. See how much of a mess everyone else is.”

“That is one upside. I agree.” He notices the cup in your hand, pondering what could be inside. “What are you drinking in that case?”

“Coke Zero,” you answer, lifting up your red solo.

“Oh,” he mimics you, “me too.”

You grin just a smidge harder and butterflies erupt in Jihoon’s stomach. “Sounds like we have great taste.”

“We definitely do.”

He doesn’t get why you’re talking to him, not that he’s complaining, but he’s just hoping he’s not coming off dry in their conversation. He has a habit of doing that. If you feel that way, it didn’t show. You even seem to be laughing, leaning into him a little heavier than he expected you to. That’s a good sign, he thinks.

He already knew this when he saw you, but he finds you cute, really cute. Like ‘I want to aggressively bite into your round cheeks’ cute or ‘I can listen to you talk the rest of his day’ cute.

But he also couldn’t help but find you just as sexy. Perhaps because the idea of sex couldn’t possibly dawn harder on the man than this moment you’re in front of him.

Because right now, you’re touching his arm—nails railing over his pale skin erupting in goosebumps under your hot trail—while your eyes dip in dark interest. Your teeth noticeably pierce your bottom lip, and Jihoon’s breath hitches, wondering if they feel as soft and supple as they appear. To make matters worse, your assets hardly hidden in a thinly veiled fitted shirt only appear more significant as you peer at him closer, arms at either side, and cleavage with a valley so deep he imagined himself suffocating between them with a smile on his face.

He is completely sober but he couldn’t feel more drunk at the sight of you.

“Should we…find somewhere more private?”

Jihoon’s eyes doubled in size, index pointing back at himself as if wanting to reconfirm. When you nod back at him, his heart pounds just a little faster while his pants feel a little tighter. “W-Where would we find privacy?”

“You brought your car, right?”

The last thing Jihoon expected was to get lucky tonight, yet here he is. Somehow, in a matter of barely an hour, someone as ethereal as you is on his lap, grinding against the heat of his thighs like it’s the goddamn rodeo and you don’t mind the boner straining in his pants beneath you. Your lips taste like the sweetest candy, tongue occasionally clashing as you press into him deeper, while the curve of your abdomen fits the hollow of his. His name—information you had only learned a not that long ago—falls out naturally from your lips, fanning his cheeks with strawberry red.

Your body, like water, fills him with a warmth that embraces him at all sides. Your flesh spills between his fingers and he can’t help but ball them into his fists, worshiping every full inch. Your curves are lively, perfect to embrace as their warmth blisters the skin it touches. Your thighs are thick and warm, perfect to hug around his waist and lock him in place. And your tits are big and plush, perfect to bury his face in to steal his breath and life. Whimpers of want escape him, his hands are already crawling up toward your chest before asking, “Can I put your tits in my mouth, please?”

Your eyes flutter excitedly, arousal churning in your stomach, already seeping past your thighs and soaking the plain fabric of your underwear. “Y-you don’t even have to ask.”

Jihoon’s hands roam over the map of your vessel, heavy-handedly filling out his palms with the fullness of your chest as you shrug off the sleeves of your top. Languidly, he pulls down the straps of your bra, watching how your warm flesh spills over and out of padded underwear like liquid gold. Your skin is hot, hotter than what he felt through your shirt, and instinctively he presses himself closer to you with parted lips that he wets with his tongue.

Jihoon hasn’t even done anything but your tight peaks stare back at him like another pair of eyes, luring him with their perky buds before they enter his mouth. You feel his teeth graze its sensitivity before his moist lips wrap around the skin, sucking and tugging towards him addictively. His moans vibrate against you and the grind of his lap against your groin drives you absolutely up a wall.

“So…soft…” he whispers so sweetly, making your eyes anchor back at him to see him pressing his cheeks against your chest as his tongue runs circles around your nipples. His bottom canines tickle your skin before biting, the slight pain rippling shivers up your spine. It is almost endearing how gentle, yet starving, he looks. Yet, the emotions running through you seeing him was anything but wholesome.

You press your lips, releasing a muted moan as your fingers curl through his hair from the back of his head. His tendrils pushed off from his forehead, and you kiss his temple and caress the smooth curves of his face. His name comes out of you more and more, becoming louder as he copies and pastes his actions to the other breast, pinching and massaging the one he left.

“Your mouth feels so good…”

You drift off in relaxed lust, finding it therapeutic how his touch is so sweet and gentle, but you are reminded of such carnal lust when he makes himself known by digging his hips into yours. He prods you like pure temptation, your throbbing pussy weak against his presence. You slip your hand between your bodies, kneading him under your palm, and a high pitch whine is let out from the cock’s owner. He says your name deliciously, your skin drenched from his spit. “Y-you’ll make me cum. And I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

A hand lets go from your breast as it crawls under your skirt and pushes aside your underwear to slide through your wet folds. “I need to make you cum first.” You move against his hand, whining for more as he explores you, and realize how damn good he is at multitasking. Your body stiffens in needy, compulsively twitching back at him as he runs through you, hand on your breast and clutching them precious gems.

“That’s so good, Jihoon…”

You could feel yourself shaking like everything he does was practiced for you and only you. You clench around his digits, hands firmly pressed on his shoulders.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans out. His obscene speech is enough to make you cum alone. You choke on your drool, resting your forehead against his as his fingers curl into you, hooking in you, as his grunts and thrusts get only more sporadic and desperate in pleasing you. “Wanna make you feel good, make you cum. Make you cum because of me.”

His eagerness is only more of a turn-on. The coolness of the rings around his fingers that you only notice now makes contact with your moisture, rubbing your walls unnaturally but making you wet all the same. You rock into the cool steel, your arousal oozing out of him like a geyser. You know he feels what he does to you, the greed of his body on yours only festers, awaiting more than just his fingers. But Jihoon had plans of his own.

“Perfect tits and a perfect pussy? I didn’t know where to put my dick between first.”

“Anywhere.” You bunch your skirt together with your other clothes around your waist, drowning your body in fabric. “Use me however you like.”

He expels a breath of relief as he lifts up your body and plants your back against the dash. He holds you still, single-handedly taking his pants down and kicking them off and under the passenger seat. His cock—so ridged and perfectly aesthetic with the precum leaking from the tip—stands tall as his knees are planted on the seat. Lifting up his pelvis, he slides his length between your tits. He spits, aiming for his shaft, in turn splattering on your chest, and you can’t help but coil in raw ache. “You see what you do to me? How hard you make me?”

You moan feeling him press your breasts together, thrusting between your valley. The tip of his cock centimeters away from your mouth, your tongue farts towards it, tasting the salty precum. Jihoon groans at the sight, fucking your tits becoming more mesmerizing than his mind could ever muster. The moment your lips wrap around the tip, he feels as if he could cry, gritting his teeth before he licking his lips, “You like that? My cock fucking your tits like this?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer and instead spits again, the lube of his salvia heats up your skin. “Give me your dirty little fingers.”

Your fingers tingle from the wet warmth of his oral, feeling him shove your fingers deeper in his mouth as he fucks your tits faster. His groans are majestic. One hand squeezes your tits tight together as a hand wraps around your wrist and pushes you knuckles deep. He’s horny, tomato red, moaning how much of a mess you make him, how his cock is almost exploding at the sight of you, how much he wants to fuck you rough and deep, and how much he wants to spell his name on your entire body with his cum. He has quickly grown that obsessed with you.

So you don’t expect it when it pulls away before your cock makes that dream a reality, stealing the opportunity for you to milk him dry with your tits alone.

“I don’t have a condom but I’m clean.” He admits quietly, panting.

You nod back at him gingerly. “I am too, and I’m protected, so don't be scared of cumming in me. I prefer it if you do.”

He understands you loud and clear, pulling you by your hair before he’s kissing you. “Sit on my cock then.”

Every inch gets swallowed by your sopping pussy, stretching around his girth before you bounce his lap and the sound of your bare ass slapping his skin like a symphony. He grips your bare thighs with so much need. The plush of your walls closes around him in bliss as you use him, allowing him to bury himself inside you, coating every inch of his cock in your sweet liquid ardor.

“You’re drenching my thighs, beautiful, fuck.”

You lean into him, tits hugging the curvature of his face like cushion. So soft, so lush. You’re made of cloud but reek of pure sin. Jihoon never knew such a combination of existing, and now he’ll never know anything else like it. “Can’t help…it…fuck…”

“Your pussy is so good for me…so wet…so ready for me, god…ride me. Fuck.”

His hips lifted into you, thrusting as your ass clashes his lap like cymbals. Your eyes roll back, taking in the rhythm, his hands preoccupied with your tits. He thrusts in you at the same pace he did with your tits, mind-numbingly animal, moaning against your skin. Your nails dig into his firm back, saying his name as arousal overtakes you, and your climax takes claim on you. You mousely announce its arrival, the contracting of your hips making your words even clearer.

Jihoon takes your sides, fisting balls in your body before accelerating. “Take my cock like that…yes…fuck, like that. I want to cum so deep in you.”

Even from the sensitivity, your mind could be more awake. “Mmm, breed me, please…I want to be full of your cum please…cum in me please…”

“Yes like that…I’ll breed you…every inch of you will be filled with my cum. I promise…”

Every slam, every clench, every whine. He fucks you so long and deep, you’re sure there’s a Jihoon cock shaped hole inside you, fulfilling his every desire, his every lewd thought, and you come undone again and again. You fall apart the way Jihoon has made you come together, your body pressed against his, only now writhing with your sweat-misted body pressed against his strong reliable torso. His body follows after like clockwork, feeling his hot thick load fill you past the brim and drip down his legs.

He clutches you, the bounce of his hips slowly faltering as he empties out into you. His sigh fans on the most skin of your shoulder. He kisses your neck tenderly, smiling a smile you don’t see but can absolutely feel. “I never came that—nngh—hard like that.”

“Really?” you shy ask full of doubt.

“Yeah. I haven’t.”

The caress of his hand on your back makes your tired body virbrate and the sensitivity of your pussy once again throbbing in need. “Well, how about one more? Want to fuck your cum back inside me?”

He lightly chuckles. He brings your face parallel to his to admire it, his hand coming over the curve of your face, and thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Yeah. And maybe I can take you home, get you cleaned up, make you a mess for me all over again?”

“What about your friends?”

He simply shrugs. “They’ll survive one night without me.”

#svthub #woozi smut #Jihoon smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #lee Jihoon smut #lee Jihoon #seventeen woozi #woozi #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #woozi x reader #woozi x y/n #woozi x you #lee jihoon x you #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x y/n

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