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beeschmee · 9 days ago

Text

all part of the colonel's plan

⊹ ࣪ ˖ word count: 7.5k

⊹ ࣪ ˖ p a i r i ng: farspace fleet colonel caleb x mc

⊹ ࣪ ˖ summary: your mission was simple: sneak into skyhaven and escape with the final aether core fragment, right under the farspace fleet's nose. you weren't prepared to fall right into a trap created by the fleet's new colonel.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ t a g s: mdni, explicit sexual content, fem! reader, jealous! caleb, unprotected sex, light bondage, dry humping, orgasm denial, inappropriate use of evol, biting, pet names, cunnilingus, p in v, breeding, light praise

⊹ ࣪ ˖ n o t e: hii guys! the brainrot for this man is unreal, and i just needed to write something, so i hope you enjoy~ not proofread so enjoy the chaos! thanks for reading 𖹭 ao3. banner: me. dividers: cred

When you accepted the mission to search for a lead on the aether core, you hadn’t expected it to be easy. Skyhaven was new territory for you and your information on the Farspace Fleet was few and far in-between. Yet, when you ran into that frazzled cadet, it was like candy falling into your lap.

Her uniform was snug against your body as you flattened out any wrinkles that appeared during the change. The girl barely could barely thank you before darting off into an alley. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You saw your fair share of scared recruits during your time in the academy.

Placing the uniform cap on your head, you take a deep breath before heading towards the crime scene tape on the other side of the street. The smell of ash and burning wood fill your nostrils as you get closer to the decimated property. A similar memory flashes in your mind, threatening to pull you back below its depth, but you push forward. Now cannot be the time to falter.

You stop in front of a commanding officer and salute them, waiting for their nod before ducking under the tape. The breath you were holding loosens from your lungs as you approach the remains of the house in front of you. You refuse to let your eyes linger on the charred front patio, pulling your cap further down your head to block your view of it as you pass.

Focusing on the task at hand, you head towards the backyard. Near the pool, you can sense something pulling you to the bushes. The feeling is faint but unmistakable.

You nod to fellow cadets and officers as you pass. The air is filled with chatter and commands thrown around, causing further chaos, as the fleet is trying to balance an investigation and the return of their Colonel at the same time. The distraction is much appreciated.

You crouch before the bushes, reaching into the vines to search for the presence pulling you in. Thorns scrape against the exposed flesh of your wrist, drawing tiny pinpoints of blood to the surface. You wince as you lean further in, grasping at air. The further you look for this presence, the less you feel it. A frustrated sigh escapes from your lips.

“Is there a problem, Cadet?” A masculine voice speaks up behind you.

You jolt to your feet, ignoring the pain of the thorns trying to hold onto you. The man in front of you is older, probably in his late 40s, and is looking at you with all the contempt in the world.

“No, sir.” You shake your head, then gesture to the bush behind you. “I was looking for any additional evidence that may have been blown back by the explosion.”

The man doesn’t even blink as he stares down at you. You bite your tongue to stop you from rambling off useless lies. He doesn’t trust you, that much you can tell. Yet, he simply nods his head after a few more seconds of silence.

“Carry on, Cadet. This area needs to be cleared within the hour. It’s set to rain soon.”

You swiftly nod your head, holding onto the cap so it doesn’t fly off. The officer scoffs at the notion and walks away, immediately yelling similar orders to the other officials by the house. Once you feel comfortable that he won’t turn back around, you continue your search amongst the foliage. The presence from before is faint, almost nonexistent, and the fear of failure starts to creep along the edges of your mind.

Bending your knees into a squat, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Even if the aether core isn’t here, it’s close by. It has to be.

Opening your eyes, you reach your hand out to part the branches to look further into the bushes. You’re leaning forward to examine the area when a blunt force slams into the back of your head. The air rushes from your lungs and a ringing drills into your ears before darkness takes over.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Memories of gentle laughter and playful fighting war against the sounds of crashing waves as you wave in and out of consciousness. The world feels as though it is spinning. Your head is splitting apart, pain rippling from the back of your skull to your temples. As you come to, your head refuses to lift up, the muscles in your neck sore and locked in place.

It takes an unreasonable amount of strength to pry your eyes open. Even with the little amount of light in the room, you can’t help but squint against the pain. Everything is blurry no matter how much you blink. You try to reach up and rub your eyes, but your hands won’t move. They can’t move.

You’re cuffed to the chair you’re in.

Panic quickly starts to creep in as you take in your situation. You wiggle your feet, only to find them just as restrained as your hands. Pulling your hands against the metal band holding you down, you flinch at the persistent stinging from the cuts on your wrist. A whimper escapes through your clenched teeth as your wrist jams against the restraint, unable to squeeze through.

Somewhere behind the chair, you hear a door open. Your body stiffens as the realization of your situation sets in. You’re trapped.

“I’d be careful. You don’t want to break those slender wrists, would you?” A voice from behind you asks.

In your semi-conscious state, something about that voice prickles the hairs on the back of your neck. Despite the person’s warning, you continue struggling against the metal bands, trying to figure out a trick to get out. Heavy footsteps echo throughout the dark room, leisurely approaching you.

“Persistent as always,” the voice mutters, your ears barely catching the words.

One more useless tug and you resign from the meaningless action. You’re thoroughly stuck. It doesn’t help that your head feels like a ton of bricks and then some. The tension of your position is surely causing knots to form all along your shoulder and back.

The person takes another 10 steps, you count. There’s silence for a long moment and then the sound of a heavy fabric bristling. The feeling of warm air on the side of your cheek causes you to flinch, jerking away from the sudden sensation. They let out a seemingly exasperated sigh before the warmth leaves you, their body pulling back.

“I’d say that I’m surprised to find a traitor in our midst.” The voice states louder. “But, I made it so easy for you. I’m almost disappointed by how easy you fell for my trap. I mean, come on. Wasn’t that incident almost too familiar?”

The ringing in your ear fades away as you focus on the voice now positioned in front of you. A voice that has your heart lurching into your throat, threatening to spill out. It can’t be.

The footsteps resume and you listen to how they reposition behind you. Their warmth radiates on your back. They’re too close.

Suddenly, two leathered hands run over your shoulder toward your neck. You try to yank away from their touch, but they have you caged in. Something cold slides against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as it circles your throat. Click.

“A perfect fit.” The voice is quiet, as if they’re talking to themself.

There’s a boyish lilt to the deep voice that causes an ache in your chest. Your brain is arguing with what your heart realizes all too fast. Memories of that same voice, but lighter and more carefree, echo in your mind. Your hands clench against the armrests, trying to grind yourself to reality. A corpse can’t speak.

One of the hands leaves your neck, lightly tracing a path down to your shoulder before dropping away. The other lets the metal band rest against the base of your neck before wrapping your throat. The leather material is rough against your skin. Your body breaks out into a cold sweat as it tightens ever so slightly against your windpipe.

Slowly, your head is being pulled up. Pain pulses across your skull to your spine as the person behind you straightens your posture. Their thumb and index finger move up slightly until they’re pushing up your jaw, forcing your head up.

You try to take in the room as your position changes, but your gaze halts at the view in front of you. Across the room is a glass wall. You stare back at yourself in the one-way glass as your vision clears up. Whether it be fear or denial, you almost want to beg the hand to let you go, to let your chin fall back against your chest, so that you don’t have to look.

But, you were always a curious one.

Your eyes adjust to the darkness and take in the sight of the hand wrapped around your throat. It tightens just a little bit more, restricting your airway enough to make your brain feel fuzzy.

“You always did like to make me wait, pipsqueak.”

With that damning admission, your pulse rages against his fingers. Your eyes flick up to the reflection of the person, the world freezing around you.

A dead man stands behind you. His finger taps against your pulse as he smiles at you. Never losing eye contact, he leans down until his lips are grazing the shell of your right ear.

“Did you miss me?” Goosebumps raise all over your body.

“Caleb.” Your voice is raspy and the sounds get stuck in your throat, threatening to choke you.

“The one and only.” He presses a light kiss to your temple.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t explain how he’s standing in front of you. Your world as you know it is cracking and crashing around you, and he’s just there. Tears spring up faster than you can force them away. They pool in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision of the living ghost behind you.

Caleb steps back around, clicking his tongue in disapproval as he wipes the tears from your eyes. You flinch at how cold his hands are; the sensation shocking you. “Now, now, pips. I expected a big hug from you when I imagined this moment.”

His words betray his actions as he crouches in front of you, his hands tracing the skin around the restraints. He doesn’t move to release you from them. A laugh bubbles up and escapes your lips as you take in this foreign version of your best friend. Gone is the childish Caleb you knew so well. This man may look like him, but the energy around him is suffocating. Harsh lines decorate his face and his smile doesn’t reach his dim purple eyes.

“Hard to hug a dead man when you’re chained to a chair.”

His thumb digs into your wrist for a brief moment, the pain jolting up your arm. He shakes his head.

“I see you haven’t lost that attitude of yours, princess.” The pet name drips off his tongue condescendingly. “That’s okay. It’s to be expected since I’ve been gone for so long. There was no one around to work it out of you. But, I’m here now.”

“And how are you here, exactly?” You lean forward, sneering at the man. “Last I checked, you should be 6 feet under in Linkon Cemetery.”

“I know it’s all confusing now, and I don’t expect you to understand. Not yet. But, aren’t you happy? Your “big brother” is back.”

You spit in his face. His facade drops ever so slightly. Reaching up, his thumb wipes it off his cheekbone. With eyes never leaving yours, he licks the dribbling spit off his gloved appendage. A groan slips past his lips. The sight has butterflies blooming deep in your stomach.

“Gentle, pips. There’s more than one pair of eyes watching us right now.”

Your eyes dart to the camera mounted on the wall behind him, a red light blinking next to the lens. You gulp at the thought of others witnessing this moment, praying there is no audio. He has to hold back the grin from forming as he watches you frantically think of the Fleet watching you both. The cameras are only accessible by him, but you don’t need to know that. He loves the way it makes you fidget in the chair.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl?”

Eyes glaring daggers into his, his hands land on your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh. His touch is cold against your warm and clammy skin. The look in his eyes daring you to go against him, to act up, to defy. It’s dangerous, he’s dangerous.

His fingers move up, pushing the fabric of your skirt with it, all the while he watches you. He sees the way your pupils dilate, the way the pulse in your neck quickens. He feels your thighs twitch, moving to squeeze together, but his grip prevents you from denying him. All the while, the fabric of your panties grows damp at his roughness.

Higher now, the tips of his thumbs start to fall into the crevice between your thighs and hips, and he almost moans at the way your skin pillows around his hands. That’s not what does him in though. Before you can protest and ask him to move away, his thumbs graze the outskirts of lace frill. Lace that is wet and stuck to your skin. His head drops into your lap, his breath quickening.

“Fuck, pips.” He traces his fingers along the edge of the fabric as he pants into the side of your left thigh, nipping at the skin to prevent another moan from leaving his lips. You gasp at the sensations, your body trying to curl in on itself but the restraints prevent you. “You are my undoing.”

“Caleb.” The sound of his name whimpering out of those plush lips has his cock twitching in his slacks.

“What is it, my love?” His hot breath is torture against your trembling skin.

His fingers are still tracing the edges of your panties, back and forth and back and forth, never giving you what you need. Your pulse throbs heavily in your clit as you clench around nothing. You can feel yourself growing wetter at his ministrations and the thought is mortifying.

Yet, something about the way he looks both dominating yet pathetic with his head in your lap has you unraveling. Years of desires that were so tightly locked away come flooding to the surface and it feels dirty, sinful even. None of it matters anymore. No reasoning could stop this from happening… and maybe, this was always where you were meant to land.

Right in the palm of his hand.

His head tilts in your lap, his soft hair tickling you. Purple eyes stare up into yours, begging for the words to leave your mouth. Yet, the hint of darkness glinting behind it lets you know he won’t wait long. You're his for the taking.

You nod your head at him and he smirks.

“Ah-ah,” he scolds, nipping at your inner thigh harder this time, leaving a light bite mark. “Use your words.”

Rouge scatters across your cheeks, ears, and neck in shame and lust. Tilting your head to the side, averting your gaze, you whisper, “Please touch me.”

Fingers ghost over the top of your fabric, pressing gently into your mound, the fabric pushing into your folds. The feeling has your brain short circuiting. It’s still not enough.

“You have to be more specific, love. I’m already touching you.”

His face moves up higher, kissing a trail up your thighs until his nose reaches his finger, replacing it. His hands move up higher, grasping the panties resting on your hips and pulling them up higher, causing the fabric to dig in deeper. A pathetic moan ripples out your lips.

“Where do you want to be touched?” His nose moves, pushing into your throbbing clit.

“There. Please, Caleb.”

He wants to tease you more. He wants you tied to this chair, begging for his touch, tears streaming down your face from the edging and denial. He wants you to want him as desperately as he needs you. But, the sound of his name so needy on your tongue has him saving his plans for another day. Oh how easily he folds for you.

“You always get what you want, don’t you?” His tone is sarcastic, but he doesn’t deny you any longer.

Fabrics is pushed to the side and the feeling of his skin on yours has you twitching in the chair, your hands gripping the armrest. His tongue swipes through your folds, flicking your clit before diving into your pussy like a man starved. The sounds escaping your mouth are foreign to you, but so is the pleasure burning its way across your body.

Caleb is relentless in his pursuit for your orgasm. He alternates between lavishing your hole, moaning at the way your walls pathetically clench around him, and abusing your clit with bites and sucking. It’s all too much for you. The pressure building within you is lightning fast. You bite down on your lip to prevent the moans from escaping, but that angers Caleb.

One hand leaves your thigh and pulls your bottom lip out from between your teeth, replacing it with two fingers. He presses down on your tongue, your mouth opening with the force.

“Don’t,” is all he mutters against you before returning to his feast.

His other hand moves down until his index finger ghosts your entrance. He traces around and over it lightly, never truly giving you what you want. Meanwhile, the fingers in your mouth play with your tongue as you moan around them.

Suddenly, his index finger catches on your entrance and he slowly sinks into you. You bite down on his fingers, whimpering at the intrusion you desperately needed. He wanted to go slow with you. Truly, he did.

But the way you clench around him has him seeing stars. He doesn’t hesitate to add another finger, relishing in the way you accept him smoothly. He presses in until the palm of his hand rests against your clit. The sounds your pussy is making has him grinning ferally.

Lifting his head, he gazes at the glazed out look in your eyes. A look he’s seen only a few times before when he happened to check his monitors and you were fucking some other guy in your room. He’d almost stormed to your place that night to kill the man. He’d only been gone for a month and you’d given yourself to someone else. Your first time. The jealousy bubbles within him even now.

His hand suddenly starts rocking back and forth, his palm grinding harshly against your clit. The sensation has you tearing apart at the seams. Stars flicker in the corners of your eye as you feel yourself approaching the edge of a dangerous cliff. His name rambles off your tongue like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby girl.” His tone sounds mocking, but you can barely process that over the pleasure coursing through your body. “Cum on my hand.”

He’s resting on his heels now, watching you fall apart right before his eyes. Your knuckles are white against the armrest, your thighs twitching, and your mouth suckling on his fingers through broken moans. He curls his fingers up right as he sees you inhale, finger tips grazing a spot you’d never touched before. A spot no one had touched before.

A wave crashes through you, dragging you under, as an orgasm rips through you. Caleb doesn’t falter, working a third finger in at the same time you cum. The sensation has tears bubbling in your eyes, a sob escaping your lips. He works you through your orgasm flawlessly, while building up another one at the same time. It’s overwhelming.

Caleb removes his fingers from your mouth, trailing down to your neck, grasping it within his hands. Fingers press into the sides, your head feeling light at the restricted blood flow. Your eyes find him, trying to ground yourself in the storm of pleasure.

His fingers leave you right as you're about to cum again, the denial harsh. Before you can beg the colonel before you to continue, his fingers reach his lips. You watch silently as he sucks on his fingers, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight is obscene and filthy, and you’re enthralled.

Once he’s done sucking every last drop of you off his tongue, he stands up, towering over you. The grip on your throat moves to your cheeks, pushing them together. “Open up,” he demands.

Even if you wanted to defy him, his hands force your lips to part and your head to tilt up to his. He leans down until his face is above yours, eyes boring into yours as his mouth opens. Your cum and his spit gathers in his mouth before he spits it into yours.

“Swallow.” And, you do. Your tongue swipes across your lips to make sure you didn’t miss a drop before opening your mouth, proving to him that you’d followed his orders. His hand taps the side of your cheek. “What a good girl you are.”

Suddenly, there’s a beeping sound echoing in the room and the pressure around your wrists and ankles releases. You’re unchained. You could try to make a run for it, but you don’t want to. Not anymore. He’d only chase you, punish you. The thought is actually tempting. But, what if he didn’t? What if you ran and he let you? Would you ever see him again? You’d only just gotten him back and the thought of losing him for a second time is inconceivable.

Caleb watches your inner turmoil for a brief second, loving the way you look torn apart. In your moment of distraction, he lifts you up from the chair. Your hands wrap around his neck for balance as your world shifts around you. He turns around before seating himself on the chair, placing you right on top of his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you down until you’re fully seated against the bulge in his slacks.

Your eyes whip to his his as you feel him twitching beneath you. His head rests against the back of the chair lazily, a smirk gracing his lips.

“I’m all yours, pipsqueak.” His fingers dig into the groove of your hips. “Aren’t you going to punish me?”

He moves your hips forward, grinding you down onto his cock. Biting down on his lip, he groans at the feeling of the wetness seeping into the fabric of his pants. Your hands rest on his shoulders to balance yourself, falling into the motions of grinding atop him.

You wanted to respond to him. You wanted to yell how angry and hurt you were at him, but your mind blanks out at the sensation of another orgasm building within you. Your head falls to his shoulder, your lips grazing the skin of his neck above his jacket collar. Sweet moans and gasps fall from your lips, warming his heart.

His hands move from your hips, which never falter in their dry humping, and grasp the bottom of your shirt. He peels it up from your body, his head nudging yours so you lift it. Once the fabric is free from your body he tosses it to the side, his hands immediately unclipping the bra and tearing it off you.

If angels were real, you had to be one and he could only pray that staring directly at your heavenliness wouldn’t kill him. He’d dedicate his life to you, bruise his knees in nightly worship at your feet, if it meant you’d stay here, right in his unworthy arms.

Gently, as if not to scare you, his hands ghost your skin. The feeling has your nipples pebbling and goosebumps raising all over. Gods, waiting this long to have you was his punishment.

His hands explore your body, fondling your boobs, gripping your hips, smacking your ass, as you greedily grind down on him, using him for your pleasure. You feel like teenagers in heat as you both explore each other.

But, it’s not enough, and you both soon realize that as your moans turn into frustrated whimpers as your orgasm rests just below the surface.

You sit up, your hips circling his lap, tears in your eyes and the tiniest bit of drool on the corner of your lips. Caleb wants to photograph you just like this: drunk from his touch on his lap. He nods at the way your eyes plead with him, his name babbling out of your lips.

One of his hands traces up to the back of your head and gently grips your hair in his grasp. The other moves to rest at the top of his zipper, his thumb presses against your clit as you move. You're greedy in the way you start to chase your pleasure against his hand now, ignoring his throbbing cock. Right as the tension is about to burst out of you, you’re lifted off his lap.

The energy wrapped around you has you feeling weightless as your head whips down to the man right below you, anger simmering in your blood. A tear drips from your eye and lands on the corner of his cheek, his tongue swipes it.

“You’ve always been so cute when you’re angry. But, you need to know your place, pips.”

“Put me down right this instant, Caleb.” Your voice sounds foreign to you, raspy and breathless.

Laughing at your pitiful excuse to demand him, he unzips his pants. Your eyes immediately dart to the movement, any more arguments dying on your lips. He palms himself over his boxers for a moment, relishing the hungry look in your eyes.

“What if I like you up there?” Suddenly there’s a bit of pressure against your clit and then you feel your panties tear away from your body, the fabric burning against your skin as it quickly rips. The cold air has you twitching above him, and he’s given a beautiful view of your dripping pussy.

Without breaking eye contact from your beautiful mound, he frees himself from his boxers, his dick standing against his stomach as his hand wraps around it. For as long as you’d lived together in the past, you’d never seen this part of him. He always made sure never to expose himself to you, no matter how many times he’d seen you naked over the years. It had bothered you on endless nights where you tried chasing your pleasure in between his sheets while he wasn’t home, inhaling his scent on his pillow, imagining his cock rubbing against your clit instead of your untrained fingers.

You’re enthralled with the veins that adorn his thick cock as they trace up to a pink tip that has you gulping. Could you fit him? Sure, you’d been with well-endowed men in the past but Caleb was a different breed. Where most men excel in either length or girth, he is blessed with both. Maybe even cursed, depending on how this goes.

His hand pumps up and down his shaft as he stares at your exposed pussy while you sit in your rambling thoughts. Tiny groans escape his lips as he clenches the base of his shaft, holding his pleasure at bay, his balls twitching. He can’t cum yet, not when he’d prepared you so well.

“Caleb.” Your breathy voice breaks him out of his daze, eyes darting to yours. “Put me down.”

The venom in your voice is gone, replaced with a sweetness that has his teeth rotting. He can’t ever say no to you at the end of the day, no matter how hard he tries. It’d always been this way. He could only resist and deny you for so long before you won in the end.

The energy around you shifts, bringing you down the few feet to meet his body, but not fully releasing you. The tip of his cock grazes against your folds. But, he did love to make sure you deserved your win, and you hadn’t yet.

Frustration burns across your body as Caleb toys with you, dragging his cock through your folds and rubbing against your clit. He repeats the motion a few times until you’re whimpering above him, your eyes burning holes into his skin. His cock catches on your entrance for a second, knocking the air out of your lungs at the feeling, before it slips out and through your folds. “Caleb,” you warn.

The colonel doesn’t even look up at you, he’s too mesmerized by how you’re dripping onto his cock, his hand rubbing your cum across the smooth skin of his shaft. Your warning falls on deaf ears as he catches his cock on your hole one more time, groaning at the way your entrance tries to clench onto him and drag him in, but you’re not close enough.

He needs your pussy weeping for me. He needs you crying for him.

It’s torture as he dangles you just out of his reach, building your orgasm up with the tip of his cock and sometimes his fingers when you beg. The edging and denial is overstimulating. The air in the room is suffocatingly hot. Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“I-” Your voice breaks into a moan when his fingers ghost over your clit. “I need you.”

There it is.

“Am I not giving you enough, my love?”

His cock settles at your entrance, this time not moving. The feeling has you writhing in his gravitational hold. You shake your head, words failing you as tears blur your vision. The frustration is painful.

“You’ve always been so greedy.” Your body starts to inch slowly down until the tip of his cock rests within, the feeling making you delirious as a moan rips through you.

“Always such a needy little brat.” His words are harsh and his evol raises you up until his cock is resting just at your entrance again.

Blood rushes through your ear as your walls clench around nothing yet again, the pulse in your clit threatening to tear you apart from the pain.

“Pushing me around all these years.” You sink down again, your breath stuttering, but he’s pulled you up again before you can even cherish the feeling of him. “Do you know how that has made me feel?”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as a sob racks your body, tears spilling from your eyes. You want to rip your skin apart to rid yourself of this burning sensation. “Caleb, please.”

It’s not enough. Not yet.

“Please what, pipsqueak? Use your words. You’ve used them so well in the past to hurt me.” He sinks you down again, waiting this time to see if you will be punished or rewarded.

“Forgive me.” He tsks, almost pulling you off him before words begin rambling out of your mouth on a broken sob. “Fuck me. Please, just take me. Use me. I need it. Caleb. I’m sorry, please. Cal-”

Gravity rushes back through your body and suddenly your hips are flush to Caleb’s, his cock pushing through you with little resistance until he’s fully sheathed in your warmth. It takes the strength of gods to hold his orgasm back and not empty his cum into your deliriously hot pussy. The air is ripped from your lungs and you forget how to breathe as an orgasm rips through you at the pain and pleasure of his cock throbbing against your tight walls.

You almost lose consciousness at the absolute power of your orgasm. Lightning shoots across your body, zapping every nerve until you’ve turned to jello in his hold. Caleb’s hand rests on your abdomen, his thumb stroking over the bulge where his cock rests within you, filling you up more than you’d ever been in your life. The added pressure of his hand against your stomach has you keeling over, the air rushing back into your lungs right before you pass out.

Caleb waits for you to get used to him. He’s patient. He knows that you’re stretched thin. He knows that your body can take him, but that it’s not easy. He knows it in the way your pussy grips him like a vice, threatening to break him off at the base, yet pull him in at the same time.

When your breathing returns to normal is when he moves, grabbing your hips and grinding you against him at first. The movement has you circling on his cock, but you need more. Your hands grip his shoulders as you raise your head up to meet his eyes, and the look of him has your heart melting.

He’s looking at you as if you crafted the world with your bare hands and gave it to him. The purple of his eyes is almost gone and the smile on his lips is soft. He looks like the Caleb you know again. The soft Caleb who made sure you were taken care of and went to sleep happy every night. It has you returning the smile and his hips jolt up into you at the sight.

“There’s my girl,” he whispers before lifting you up by your hips, his cock slowly dragging out of your walls, the feeling making you dizzy. “I missed that smile.”

With that, Caleb’s restraint is gone. He drops you onto his cock once more, rutting up to meet your hips, his cock kissing your cervix. Moans rolls out of you like music to his as he fucks into with reckless abandon. You may be on top, but his tight grip controls every single movement.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, biting down hard when you clench around him as your third orgasm surprises the both of you. His tongue swipes against the mark, soothing the pain he’d caused. “Such a tight pussy, baby. All for me.”

“Yes, sir. All for you.”

Oh, the submission in your voice and body has him seeing stars. Somehow, his cock grows harder within you, the feeling causing you to whimper, looking at him with the most needy eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “Fuck me,” he whispers.

Grabbing your ass firmly with both hands, he stands up. You sink even deeper onto him with this new angle, your eyes rolling back as his cock presses harshly against your cervix and sits there. He turns you both around until you’re facing the chair. Lifting you off of him, you moan at the empty feeling as he slips out of you.

“Shhhh, be good for me.” He kisses you as one hand releases you to return with a sharp smack against your ass.

His hands move expertly as he turns you around in his hold until your back is against his chest, his cock slipping between your thighs. You tighten them until his cock is firmly cocooned between your plushy skin. His teeth bite into the shell of your ear as he retracts his hips, pulling himself free from your seductive hold as he places you on your knees in the chair.

“Grab the armrests, would you please baby?” He asks sweetly, his tongue swiping the inside of your ear, causing you to shiver.

You do as he asks, regaining your balance. You grip the metal of the chair, holding on as his hands rub down your arms. Caleb peppers across your neck and back, causing you to giggle at the sensation. You press back into him, your ass rubbing against his cock.

Click.

Cold metal snaps against your wrists, binding you back to the chair like before. You try to turn and look at the man behind you, angry that he’d lock you up as before, but his hand at your throat stops you. His fingers wrap around the collar you’d forgotten about.

“Can’t you just fuck me like a normal person.”

You’re mad again and he loves the way your eyebrows furrow.

“Bold of you to assume I’m normal, pips. I thought we established,” he whispers into your ear as his cock pushes into you from behind, your pussy resisting him a little with this new angle, “I am anything but that.”

His words end with a sharp thrust of his hips, his skin slapping against your ass. He doesn’t wait for you this time, his pace is relentless as he drives into you, chasing both his pleasure and yours. You lean forward from the movement, your chest pressed against the cold metal of the chair as he fucks into you.

All you can feel is the addicting feeling of him moving inside you, pressing against a spot that has you moaning his name with every thrust. He’s no more put together than you. Sweat drips down his face, his hair sticking to his skin as he watches the way his cock disappears into you and how your pussy holds onto him when he pulls out. It’s a sight he’s imagined countless times over the years, but experiencing it is otherworldly.

You're falling against the chair now, the arch in your back giving out as your strength fades. Caleb can’t have that. His hand at your throat moves to the back of your neck and grips the collar. He leans back, using every ounce of self-restraint to remove his body from your back. When he pulls the collar back towards him, you raise up, your back arching, moans choking at the pressure the collar has added on your throat. You can still breathe, he’s evol is holding the rest of your weight slightly up so the collar doesn’t choke you out.

“A normal person wouldn’t fuck you like this.”

He’s thrusting into you again. With every push in, he pulls the collar tighter, making your body meet him. His free hand slaps your ass before rubbing the red mark away. You yelp at the pain, and relish the delicious way he soothes it.

“But, you wouldn’t want to be fucked normally.”

Your mind is in the clouds as his presence surrounds you: his scent, his body, his evol, his touch, everything. You aren’t sure where you end, and he begins as he rhythmically fucks into you. Every few moments, he slows down, making sure you can truly feel him.

“None of those other boys could make you cum.” He spits out the words angrily, his hand spanking you once more before smoothing your skin. “Do you know how hard I had to hold myself back so I didn’t barge into your room and finish the job myself?”

You should be embarrassed that he knows such things, should be terrified of how he even knows that, but his fingers find your clit and your sobbing at the overwhelming sensation of Caleb.

“You should’ve done it.” Your words are barely comprehensible over the sound of skin slapping against each other and your moans within this room, but he hears you all the same.

His hand leaves the collar and wraps around your throat, bringing himself flush against your back as he ruts shallowly into you, his orgasm quickly approaching.

“Yeah? You would’ve liked that, brat? Have your best friend clean up those assholes’ mess and replace it with his own?”

Your head falls against his shoulder, your lips kissing the skin behind his ear as you moan at the thought of him doing that all those years ago.

“They didn’t deserve to cum in this pussy. They weren’t worthy of you.” His fingers tighten and your head grows light at the pressure of his hand at your throat and clit. “That’s okay though. I’ll wash you clean of their filth. I’ll make sure no one touches you ever again.”

You’re at his mercy as he skillfully fucks in and out of you, his fingers rubbing delicious circles around your clit. There’d never been another time in your life where you’d felt this much pleasure and you fall into its embrace willingly. As your breath quickens and becomes choppy as your orgasm approaches, Caleb whispers filthy praises into your ear before grabbing your chin and tilting your head towards him.

You open your eyes briefly to look at how absolutely drunk off you he looks. You stretch up, your hands pulling at the restraints, and kiss him. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated as you both moan into the other, tongue and teeth battling for dominance when they can. His hips stutter, losing rhythm and you know he’s close. So are you with his hand between your thighs.

“Can I?” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but you know what he wants.

“Yes.” Your consent rips away whatever restraint he thought he had left.

All he can think of is filling your pretty pussy up with his cum until your stomach is full and bloated with it, with him. He’ll fill you up nice and good and make sure you don’t waste a drop. After today, he’ll make sure you leave the house, when he lets you, with his cum dampening your panties. He needs you full of him.

His fingers work you into your next orgasm smoothly, that it’s arrival has you melting into his hold. Warmth spreads across your body in waves as his orgasm rips through him like an earthquake. His hand moves away from your clit, sparing it from oversensitivity for today, and further down until it’s cupped around your mound, his dick slotted between his fingers.

The extra feeling of his hand around his dick and your cream pooling around his fingers and base of his cock has his eyes rolling back. His cum floods into you in thick bursts, the hot fluid covering your wall as his head falls onto your shoulder.

He’s moaning your name like it’s a prayer as he rides out his orgasm slowly, relishing the way your walls try to milk more out of him. If he could, he’d stay seated here forever, with you in his arms and wrapped around his cock. But, the Fleet will need this room at some point and the thought of such trivial humans seeing you like this has him seething.

The restraints around your wrists release you and one of your arms raises up to hug Caleb’s head and pull him closer into you. He peppers your eyes and cheek with soft kisses, cleaning your face of sweat and tears, as he pulls out of you. The feeling is awkward as the cum rushes to drip out of you.

Caleb’s fingers join back together once he’s fully out of you and he cups you tightly, making sure not a drop spills out. He grins against your neck as he nuzzles into it, proud of the way your pussy is pulsing against his hand.

“Can’t have you wasting my cum after you worked so hard for it, now can we?” His tone is mocking, but he kisses you softly nonetheless.

A group of cadets walk past the door, their voices filling the empty room, and Caleb can’t help loving the way you tense up, scared to be caught by such runts. Your pulse quickens under his lips, and he kisses it to soothe you.

“Let’s get you home so I can clean you up, okay?” His eyes travel across your torn panties and dirty clothes on the ground, before he hands you his jacket. Your fingertips touch as you take the jacket from him, and he grabs your wrist. His head leans down to brush his lips across the top of your hand before letting go. “Put that on, Princess. I don’t want anyone seeing you like that. That’s only for my eyes.”

Caleb’s wink has you shoving his shoulder before wrapping yourself up in his large jacket. Once closed, it fully covers you up and Caleb can’t help the way his cock hardens at the way you look in his colonel coat. He sweeps you up into his arm bridal style before his cock comes up with other ideas.

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingertips messing with the short hairs at his nape.

“Who's taking me home? The Colonel or my best friend?” You try to ask teasingly but the worry and sadness seeps into your tone.

His gaze softens as a regretful smile graces his handsome face.

“Hopefully, just Caleb.”

You don’t say anything further. Not now. The moment is too raw, emotions too high. For now, you want to relish in his warmth and devotion, everything else can be worried about tomorrow. Today, you have the love of your life back and that’s enough.

He’s enough.

#love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb #caleb x mc #caleb lads #colonel caleb #love and deepspace x reader #caleb x reader #lads smut #lnds #lnds caleb #pure filth

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astrogirlythings · 4 months ago

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Bully Magnet indicators:

Astrology Observations Part - 3:

8th house doms : especially when 2 or more personal planets r in the 8th house. These natals attract a lot of hate / jealousy for no apparent reason.

Uranus in the 1st house or Aquarius rising : The natal is the odd kid in the playground. The natal is known by all because of how unique the natal is or the natal is just a weird kid.

Neptune in the 1st house or Pisces rising : The natal is known as the innocent kid or the soft kid. The natal seems like the kind that is easy to pick on.. hence the natal attracts a lot of bullies.

Gemini in the 1st house / Ascendant : The natal is known as the short kid.. that people can't take seriously.. because of how cute they are.. (chances r that a Gemini rising is tall too)

Mars opposite MC : These natals attract bullies in the work place or in any community that they r an active member in.. it happens almost naturally. The only way to avoid them.. is by being as low-key as possible.

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yuvany · 6 months ago

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#ENHYPEN WITH AN IDOL!READER

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 with a popular idol •°

OT7 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 x female reader :: GENRE / WARNING(S) :: fluff + secret lovers + kissing . . not proofread . .WC ; 829 ;; CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

His eyes trail your figure on stage, the details of your face and dress. Heeseung is in awe at how astonishing you look under the bright stage light, looking so elegant yet controlling, as if you knew the state was yours. Applauds the loudest when you finish your performance, a big smile reaching across his face. When you walk past him to get to your seat, the two of you bow to each other, still holding eye contact. When the announcer called out that you(r group) had won an award, Heeseung is excited for you, smiling and cheering, forgetting that there were other people around him. "Congrats on the award, Love." He says, kissing you gently on the lips after the award show.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

Being on a variety show together was not easy for Jay. He could barely keep his eyes off you, subconsciously he'd slowly make his way closer to you. You notice this and step aside, not wanting any 'rumors' to spread. After the camera cuts, he approaches you, his hand sneakily finding your waist as he pulls you close to himself. "Don't you want them to know, baby ?" He asks sincerely and you reply, "Dearest, be professional, okay?" You kiss the tip of his nose and Jay gets embarrassed for being called out.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

Everyone was basically aware that Jake admired you, never did they know that you two were in a romantic relationship. Clips online showed Jake looking at you from afar with a wide smile and eyes that glimmered, fans online argued that the two of you were just friends. He always wanted to go on a proper date with you, but that was like a dream because you two were incredibly busy people. When finally getting free time, Jake texts you in a flash, "Wanna go on a date, Lovely?" You of course agree, and while being outside, you're both forced to wear masks and caps to keep your identity hidden which he will complain about later.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

Was an MC, and during today's episode was your group's turn to be interviewed. As you stepped onto the stage, applause filled the environment as Sunghoon introduced you and your group. Everyone bowed to each other politely, and Sunghoon backed away to give more space. You introduce your group, and he watches in awe with heart eyes. "How does it feel to be here?" He asks, his eyes glued on you. "Feels awesome!" You answer, locking eyes with him, the amount of time caught people's attention, how your eyes lingered on him. The mic in your hand gets transferred around as they give their opinion, but Sunghoon still won't take his eyes off you, he only glances at them before looking at you again.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

He was glad that the two of you worked in the same industry, that meant that you could run into each other more coincidentally. It was late at night when you walked out of the dance studio to see Sunoo right outside. "Hello, Handsome." You greet, closing the door behind you. "Evening, Princess." Sunoo says with a grin. You ask him what he's doing out here so late, and he simply said that he was on a walk after his practice. "Also wanted to walk you back, and maybe go to the cafeteria first." You nod your head, content with the plan. As you two walk there with your arm linked with his, you two explain your future schedules to plan something nice when free.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

Would sneak backstage before your group's performance just to hype you up. "Where's Y/n?" You hear his voice from behind, and when you turn to look, you see your group member speaking to him, and he immediately runs over to you after thanking your member. "What are you doing here?" You ask confused and shocked, feeling Jungwon's hands holding you firmly by the shoulders. "Just here to see how you're doing, babe." He says, and you slowly nod. "Just a little nervous, that's all." Jungwon dusts off some fabric from your outfit and tells you you shouldn't be. "You'll be awesome, I know you've worked hard, no need to worry. I'll be watching you." He assures and kisses you on the cheek before running away.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

Would complement you on his live. You(r group) released a new comeback? He'd promote it. "Have you guys heard [. ]'s new album." Riki read the comment, and he nods, his eyes seeming to hold more interest now. "Personally, my favourite is [song], what about you guys?" Riki pulls up his phone to play some of your music, but as well as sending you a message saying that some of his fans were your fans as well. You'd of course do the same when it comes to Enhypen's music. "Hmm? Romance:untold? Of course, I love it!" You answer when someone asks you about it. Fans then start to ship you guys because of how much you guys match, specifically airport outfits.

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caeliuluru · 2 months ago

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and all i am, is a mess

Summary: Xavier reflects on your relationship for a bit and picks you up from your apartment for your date. He's surprised to find that (1), you just woke up, and (2), you're wearing his sweater.

Title from a misheard lyric from Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood

Tags: Xavier/MC, Xavier/Reader, Fluff (as usual), Established Relationship Xavier/MC, female MC, MC is shorter than Xavier in this one, Filipino MC (if you squint)

A/N: i wanted to experiment with writing xavier's a POV more. idk how i ended up with ~2k words of fluff no plot tho lmao. enjoy~

After a few missed alarms, Xavier finally wakes up. The birds chirp, meaning that at least, it’s still morning. He’s in his own apartment, since he’d went home ahead after you told him you’d be staying out later than usual because of your girls’ night with Tara and Simone. As he sits up to turn off the alarm, he runs a hand through his messy bedhead, missing your heart eyes and the “Xavier, you’re so cute!” you let out whenever you see it.

It’s interesting how you’ve changed him. He thought that he could hide away his solemn devotion to you, that he could present a side of him that was serious, strong, and sincere in a way he was used to. But now, he’s waited so long for you that waking up alone without seeing your adorable, peaceful face (although you’d beg to differ on your looks, he can hear your voice begging him to delete the photos of you with drool), is time too long away from him. It’s childish, he knows. But he misses you.

But…he can bear the feeling for a few minutes more, because you did promise him that the two of you would go out today. Just a little bit more and he’d be able to spend some alone time with you outside of the Hunter’s Association. He’s always reminded you to adjust the part for life in work-life balance, and he’s glad to be a part of the solution.

So, Xavier goes about his routine. He attempts breakfast, looking for something easy to make lest the fire alarm ring, and settles for pork and beans. After a quick shower, he then pulls on his white jacket, black turtleneck, and jeans and brushes his hair, trying to style it in a way that looked both neat and messy. If you liked the wavy bedhead, surely there was a way to have a more presentable version of that? But despite his attempts, he still ends up with his usual hair. Before you, he wouldn’t have exerted this much effort in getting ready, but knowing that he’s seeing you makes him want to look good in front of you. After spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his keys and wallet, he heads to the 5th floor to meet his partner, probably awake and dressed.

Xavier’s about to ring the doorbell, but a glance at your digital lock reminds him— he could just let himself in. He’d reasoned out not using his fingerprint with “special circumstances,” but the look on your face when you told him you had imagined him using it regularly… right. His hand raps on the door thrice, remembering his promise to knock three times to let you know it was him. He chuckles at the memory, and the way you’d reassured him that he’s the only other person whose fingerprint is registered on your door lock.

To his surprise, though, there’s no smell of food, no indication that you were already awake. He calls out your name.

No response.

After removing his sneakers and putting on his house slippers, the hunter scans your kitchen and living room. The kitchen island and coffee table are clean, and the couch is exactly the way you had left it the morning before you both left for work yesterday. While you did enjoy sleeping in, especially when either of you would stay the night at each other’s respective apartments and had nothing to do the next day, you were usually punctual. It was usually you who’d knock on his door first, only to be greeted by a drowsy Xavier who had just woken up.

Perhaps this was a shift.

Xavier, careful to quiet his steps, pads towards your bedroom. In this unique chain of events, he’d gently rouse you from your slumber, kiss your head, and make you a quick coffee before you get dressed and head out on your date with him. You deserved to relax, and the two of you wouldn’t let a little bit of lateness impede your plans for the day, especially when simply spending time in each other’s presence was enough.

He’s about to put his hand on the knob before the door suddenly bursts open and reveals a frantic you with messy hair and pillow marks on your face.

“What— Xavier!”

You look up, head shifting quickly from his casual getup to the ocean blue of his eyes.

“What time is it? I’m so sorry! I overslept because I got home late and—”

He hears you, but then the signals of his brain tune out your panicked rambling as the first thing he sees after your cute expression is your body enveloped in his white sweater, falling past your hips and reaching mid-thigh. The sheer largeness of it on your frame makes you look smaller than you already are, and his eyes flit over to the way the sleeves cover your hands. Stars, you look nothing short of comfy in his sweater, and he’s inches away from carrying you back to your bed so he could cuddle you for the rest of the morning… or the whole day, even.

Now he’s short-circuiting too.

“Xavier!”

You call his attention.

His brain static goes silent. Oh, was he caught in the act?

You look at him with a pout, expecting a response to your embarrassment over being late and unprepared, because you really did like being On Time, and he knows that, so why isn’t he saying anything? Was he mad? The pout shifts to a resigned frown, and he realizes that he has to rectify the misunderstanding so that you don’t end up thinking things that simply aren’t true, even if he finds you adorable, big sweater and embarrassment and all.

“Come on, just wait on the couch, I need to wash up and change my clothes.”

You’re about to step aside him and move to your bathroom when he suddenly picks you up in a princess carry, hearing your surprised “Huh?!” and depositing you onto the couch. He flops on top of you, head right on your chest where he can hear your heartbeat, and embraces you once again, nuzzling into your warmth.

“Xavi…” your voice takes on a softer tone as you watch him get comfortable. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to go out today.”

He hugs you tighter and burrows his head into your chest and the soft cotton. He smells his usual cologne on the sweater, and smiles at the thought of you falling asleep to his scent. “We will. You’re just too cute. I couldn’t resist.”

Warmth also floods into your cheeks at his response. You look down at your boyfriend, very much happy and comfy, then at your hands, hidden under the white sleeves. “Wait…” you realize. Right, it’s Xavier’s.

Your voice fills the air. “When I got home last night, I just took a shower and changed quickly. Your sweater and my pajamas were the first thing I saw in my closet drawer, so I just took those.”

He feels your hands brush his bangs away, probably to check if he was still awake. He nods. “I’m listening.” He looks up to gaze contentedly at you. “I’m glad you got home safe.”

“You’re also glad I didn’t return your sweater.” You point out.

Xavier hums affirmatively, pleased.

Looking for something to do with your hands, you poke his cheek, then switch to pinching and pulling at it lightly.

“This is what I get for my generosity?” he pouts, and you return your hand to the spot on his back before he can grab it. Xavier hears you chuckle, and well, you’re smiling now, too, so that’s a win in his book. He lets himself sink into the plush of your chest, of you and the couch, and there isn’t anywhere else he wants to be.

“It’s called cute aggression, Xav. Gigil,* if you will.” He adjusts himself upward so that he can slot his head into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Mhm, is that so?”

Xavier continues cuddling you, listening to your breathing and heartbeat. You feel his arms wrap slightly tighter around your torso, and you resign yourself to running your fingers through his moonlight hair, playing with the strands, while your other free hand settles on his back. The noontime sun begins to stream in through your window, and his hair catches in the light. The two of you stay this way for a few more moments before your shoulder starts to feel numb, because as lovely as holding Xavier is, his height means that he is heavier than you are.

Your voice, again, fills his ears, soft and coaxing. “Xavi, this is really nice. But I want to go to the bookstore. and the park, and the noodle restaurant. Also, heavy.” Xavier acquiesces, always weak for your voice (a simp is what you had once called him), and shifts your positions, the two of you moving around on the couch so that you’re leaning on his chest this time, facing him and snug between his legs.

“Was there anything else you wanted to do today?” He tucks the stray strands of hair behind your ear, locking his ocean blue eyes with yours. “Well… I also wanted to play video games when we got home. Hmm... It Takes Two?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. You’re pretty, he thinks, in his clothes and bathed in sunlight and just doing whatever You does. “We can, but we have all the time in the world right here. You should relax.” He brings another stray lock of hair away from your face, and you sigh contentedly.“

Apart from the fact that I’ve kidnapped your sweater, what else is going on with you?”

“Me?”

He takes a moment to think. Was he acting strangely? Was it weird to be so lovestruck by your girlfriend? Notwithstanding the fact that you were wearing his clothes, he’d always find you cute. And do anything for you in a heartbeat. What did you notice? He would respond with something witty, try to recover some semblance of calm and collected Xavier, but the earnestness in his heart makes him honest, and he looks in your eyes again.

“I just missed you.”

“Silly, it was just a night.” “Still. Unless you didn’t miss the person you left behind.” He feels your hand smooth the parts of his hair you played with earlier, and you tilt your head up to kiss him. Upon feeling your lips on his, he returns the kiss. Xavier then moves his hand to your lower back, supporting you as you lean towards him again. Your hand rests on his shoulder while the other cups his face, bringing him closer to you. One kiss becomes two, and three, and you feel his tongue run across your lip before you move away, the two of you already gasping for air.

“Xavier,” He looks at you again, his guiding starlight and the reason he wakes up in the mornings. You feel his hand moving from your arm to your hand, thumb stroking the back of your palm, and you grin. You hope he knows how adored, how loved he makes you feel. “Dummy. Of course I missed you too.” Xavier gives a relaxed chuckle, and pulls you in again for a hug before kissing the top of your head.

Maybe this was devotion too. Sometimes, he doesn’t recognize himself, but if it’s someone that you’re still willing to love and miss— he’s perfectly fine with change.

And this was, a good start to the very good day Xavier and his girlfriend would have.

A/N: *Gigil: Filipino term for cute aggression. that's how i first understood cute aggression anyway so i decided to use my native language haha

divider by @cafekitsune~

#xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier x you #☾ caeli's imagination

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twistedpink · 3 months ago

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a Idia that alway hate mc and mc something have a fight with him( they like mal and leo), until he overblot then accidently kill mc then be like" why you not wake up and hate me

Not my usual content but I hope I did your vision justice!

Bitter!Idia that doesn’t see you, but he knows your type from what the whole school says. That you’re that other housewarden’s favourite, a total heart throb that he’ll never like cause you’re probably super boring..

Bitter!Idia that wants nothing more than to humble you, especially when you start bothering him :( Showing up to his room, pretending to be his friend! You’ve gotta be mega-two faced to put up with him, no way you actually like him!

Bitter!Idia that stalks you through the school surveillance, always mumbling about “getting payback” and “finding the super effective move”

Bitter!Idia that gets so much worse when he watches you hang out with your other friends.. Their “princely auras” are totally, like, the worst illusion gimmick he’s ever seen! OFC a boss-level wannabe like you hangs out w/ those normies >:( !! (Not that he’s jealous)

by the time Idia actually gets to know you he’s still salty about something you can’t figure out, but he learns to “tolerate” you despite it- sending you all the “gm” and “gn” texts you could ever need <3

Lessbitter!Idia basically has your schedule memorized, and it’s super easy to organize hangouts when he knows you have no good reason to decline. What’s better than hanging out with your “impending boss battle turned gaming partner turned lover”?

BITTER!Idia that’s suddenly your worst enemy times a billion!! It doesn’t matter that Ortho and musclered say he's overreacting, you’re supposed to like-like him!! What do those other guys have that he doesn’t?? And don’t say that they “don’t watch you like tv”, or they aren’t “threatening to keep you at Styx” he’s like the biggest boss on the map when he’s at home! Why can’t you understand he’s trying his best for you?

Bitter!Idia that was never like this before, and it’s all your fault for making him feel like your friend! He knew you were tricking him the whole time, there’s no way he actually liked a level one sweat like you! It doesn’t matter that you saved him from Tartarus, or that you’re still asking Ortho abt him >:( you’re totally dead to him either way, so get lost! (Ignore him crying from inside his room, it’s just an emotional scene, noob!!)

(TLDR I accidentally made Idia kinda ooc for this ask lol, he feels entitled to you, and totally blows up if you like anyone but him r/ishetheasshole?)

#twst yuu #twst x reader #yuu twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #obsessive love #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia shroud x yuu #idia shroud x reader #twst idia

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kyuziipon · 1 year ago

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Sillies

ID: [pencil doodles on notebook paper of ramuda amemura and saburo yamada from hypnosis mic. On the left, ramuda is squishing saburo’s face in his hand and smiling, while saburo is blushing and looking angry. One the right is a drawing of ramuda from the thighs up, holding out a lollipop and smiling with a heart next to him.] /End ID

#my art #fanart #sketch #hypnosis mic #hypmic #ramuda amemura #saburo yamada #mc lb #easy r #fling posse #buster bros

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vivi4nn4 · 7 months ago

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Hi! Can you please do hcs of all the brothers with a short MC (I'm 4'10 😅)

yes I can my love n same I am 4’9 so I hope these r good n I really hope you enjoy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Headcannons of the brothers with a small mc 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

𖦹 lucifer

— lucifer will definitely use your height to an advantage he’ll definitely make little side comments about it but not in a mean way but more in a teasing way

— lucifer will keep reminding you he’s the bigger out of the two of you n can crush you with his foot if he so wished ( we all know he would never )

— lucifer does but will never admit to you but he does find your height so cute but shhh your not meant to know that

𖦹 mammon

— mammon will definitely pick fun at you like lucifer but more in a forward way but he will never mean it

— mammon will definitely love cuddling with you your so small n easy to cuddle like a teddy bear

— he will definitely see himself as your protector he is your first man at all

𖦹 leviathan

— leviathan wouldn’t really think much of it but you definitely do remind him of his favourite anime character who is around the same height as you

— like I said leviathan doesn’t think anhthing really off your height sometimes he does realise how small you are compared to him but it’s not really a big deal to him

𖦹 satan

— like lucifer n mammon , satan will also poke a little bit of fun at your height but only when he’s teasing n rarely does

— satan most of the time doesn’t think much of it but when you stand in front of him or next to him or next to something tall he definitely does think about it

— your height reminds him kittens bcs of how small n cute they are

𖦹 asmodeus

— asmodeus just wants to pick you up pinch your cheeks and put you in his back pocket

— he thinks you are absolutely adorable

— asmodeus just wants to use you as his little dress up Barbie with your permission ofc he would want to style you in so many different outfits n styles

𖦹 beelzbub

— in my head beelzbub is definitely the tallest or second tallest out of all his brothers so you compared to beelzbub you would look extra tiny ( I have just went to go check the official chart height n i can kinda see that beelzbub is definitely the tallest )

— beelzbub definitely will never be against the idea if you bring it up of him caring you he doesn’t have them big arms for nothing!!!

— beelzbub is perfect to cuddle to his big chest , big arms n a heart of gold he is ready n waiting!!

𖦹 belphegor

— belphegor will definitely poke the most funniest out of you for it he’s so mean but in a funny way he will never take it to far but he knows how to jab a little at you

— you are now belphegors sleeping buddy he will wrap his long arms around you n drift off to sleep tru get out he will just grip tighter

— belphegor will definitely giggle at you if you can’t reach anything but he will definitely get it for you anyways just let him have his fun first

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stonewall-if · 2 years ago

Text

Stonewall Military Academy: the most brutal, merciless, and unforgiving boarding school in the country. Most recruits either desert or die by the end of their first year. It is where the fiercest and deadliest killers are trained and molded to be the military's steel fist. And it is not for the faint of heart.

Your late mother was once the most respected Commander in the military...until she turned against her country and was killed. Her betrayal killed important figures, left thousands dead, and almost made your people lose a war against a monstrous opposition that threatens the livelihood of your people every day.

Your family has gone into hiding since then, exiled and branded as traitors. But when you're forced to defend your sibling, you're given two options: death or become Stonewall's newest recruit, which is a death sentence in and of itself.

You choose Stonewall.

Your mother's betrayal has tainted your family, has made anyone with your last name hated and has exiled them in circles your family once commanded. You will be bullied, ostracized, even almost killed by your fellow recruits who believe you lower than dirt.

But that won't stop you. You won't be part of the 99% of recruits who die or desert. You will get out of here. You will learn about your mother. And you will live to see graduation.

Will you?

Stonewall is an 18+ dark interactive fiction with minimal fantasy elements that follows MC to a ruthless military academy. Things such as explicit violence, death, bullying, and dark themes are prevalent.

Choose your gender identity and shape your recruit's personality.

Were you a bloodthirsty fighter--everything your parents wanted you be--or what people can consider a 'weakling'?

Fight violence with violence or confront your fellow student's violence with your words, or do nothing at all.

Rebel or become a loyal soldier. Fight for the High Commander's respect or be a thorn at their side.

Romance, befriend or become an enemy to a cast of characters.

Try to survive in the deadliest school in the country.

The High Commander: the leader of Stonewall. She is ruthless, bloodthirsty, and the source of nightmares for many. She doesn't expect you to make it here. Best to prove her wrong.

Your sibling: who is the closest person to you. Your actions saved them from a life of misery and you will continue to do everything in your power to protect them.

Roman [m] or Raven [f][RO]: your new mentor and trainer. R has long graduated as a student and is a full-fledged warrior working at Stonewall. They are cold, brutally honest, detached and unforgiving. They will push you to your limits, and they don't care how you feel about it. Really, they expected you to desert the moment you stepped foot into this place.

At least they're not unnecessarily cruel...which is the most you can hope for here.

Ivan [m] or Iris [f] [RO]: coming from the most powerful military family, I's bloodline has made them the most sought-after student in the school. Your mother also killed their father, so it is no surprise they hate your guts. They are at the top of the rankings, which means they are a bully, but a dangerous one. And they will not make your time here easy.

Marshall [m] or Maureen [f] [RO]: the bumbling, happy-go-lucky recruit that came in the same day as you. No one knows how the shy and easily scared M got into Stonewall...must be because they're from a line of powerful commanders. Still, they are nothing like their family, and you feel bad knowing the students are going to eat them alive. Stonewall will likely kill them before this year ends. Not your problem, right?

Enzo [m] or Eris [f][RO]: the child of the High Commander. No one wants to cross them, so no one talks to them. They are isolated like you but in a different way: they are fawned over while simultaneously being avoided. It seems like you may just be E's only ally in here (or not).

+more!

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #choice script #cog game #cog #choice of games #dashing don #interact-if #if game #if wip #cog wip #if intro #intro post

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lyn31 · 17 days ago

Text

🎼 Dress👗

Summary:

"Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off~" - Taylor Swift, Dress Starting with a secret relationship, stolen glances, subtle touch, marking each other and ended up with you waking up together. A collection of moment about your relationship with you childhood friend, best friend and as everyone else know him the stoic and strict doctor, Zayne. It's thrilling, it's sweet, and it's electrifying.

Disclaimer:

Alright listen, I love Caleb alright, as a friend, as a bro, he's like a brother that I never had so let me have this! My bro is still with me! But anyway... Fluff and technically AU Pairing: Zayne x Reader/MC

Ao3 link

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The room hums with conversation, laughter spilling over the clinking of glasses and the low pulse of music. Familiar faces, some barely changed, others worn by time, move through the dimly lit space, caught in moments of nostalgia.

Across from you, he leans back in his chair, effortlessly at ease. To everyone else, he’s just your best friend—same as always. The two of you, inseparable, yet nothing more. That’s what they think.

But then his eyes meet yours. Just for a second. A flicker of longing that only you recognize.

You look away, pretending to listen to whatever story is being told beside you. He does the same, nodding along to a conversation he isn’t really part of. But the tension lingers, a thread pulling between you, tightening with every stolen glance.

No one here knows. Not your friends, not even the ones who know you best. And maybe that’s what makes this moment sharper, heavier. The secret tucked between smiles, the quiet thrill of pretending.

"Man, I still can’t believe it," someone says, shaking their head with a laugh. "You three? Still thick as thieves after all these years? How does that even happen?"

You barely have time to think of a response before Caleb jumps in, all easy confidence and that familiar grin. "What can I say? Some bonds don’t break. You spend enough time together, suffer through enough bad group projects, and suddenly you’re stuck for life."

Laughter ripples through the table, and you nod, playing along. "Yeah, at this point, cutting either of them off would feel like losing a limb."

"Aw, you’d miss us that much?" Caleb teases, nudging you lightly.

"You wish," you shoot back, and the group laughs again.

Zayne, as expected, doesn’t say much. He just sits there, quiet, unreadable, offering nothing but a small nod of agreement. To everyone else, it’s just him being himself—stoic, detached, not one for small talk. But you know better.

You feel it in the way his fingers tap idly against the table, a slow, familiar rhythm. You see it in the way his gaze flickers toward you, barely noticeable, but enough. It’s a reminder. A quiet acknowledgment.

And just like that, you’re back there—

Late nights spent in Caleb’s car, all three of you crammed inside, talking about nothing and everything. The glow of streetlights casting shadows over Zayne’s face as he stared out the window, quiet as always. You’d watch him, thinking about how unfair it was that someone could just exist like that—unbothered, impossible to read, while you sat there, heart twisted up in knots over him.

Inside jokes whispered across crowded hallways, his shoulder brushing yours as you walked side by side, the warmth lingering longer than it should. That moment in the library when he passed you his notes, fingers grazing yours, the briefest touch that sent something sharp and electric down your spine.

You remember waiting.

Waiting for a sign, for something solid, something more than the stolen glances and unspoken moments. But Zayne was always just out of reach, his walls too high, his silence impossible to read.

And you—too caught up in your own doubts to realize he was waiting, too.

You blink, pulled back into the present as Caleb keeps talking, effortlessly carrying the conversation. Around you, the reunion buzzes on—glasses clinking, old friends swapping stories, laughter rising over the hum of background music.

Zayne still hasn’t said a word. But under the table, where no one else can see, his fingers brush against yours. Just for a second. Just enough to remind you—

You aren’t waiting anymore.

A sharp voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

“Wait—hold on. When did you get that?”

You barely have time to process before Harper leans in, eyes locked on the ink at the nape of your neck.

“You got a tattoo?” she accuses, voice full of mock betrayal. “And you didn’t come to me?”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh. Uh—”

“Wait—you have a tattoo?” Caleb cuts in, sounding equally shocked. His gaze flicks to your neck, then back to you, brows raised.

You wave a hand, shrugging like it’s nothing. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Caleb scoffs. “Not a big deal? You used to freak out over temporary tattoos lasting too long.”

Harper leans in more, squinting. “Hold on. That’s a smart ink heartbeat, isn’t it?”

Caleb pauses mid-sip, lowering his glass. “A heartbeat tattoo?” His brows shoot up. “Alright, now you have to tell me why.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no story. I just liked it.”

Caleb tilts his head, grinning. “Right. Because nothing says ‘casual impulse’ like permanently inking a heartbeat on yourself.”

Harper snickers. “Yeah, whose is it?”

You shrug again, keeping your expression neutral. “Mine.”

Caleb gives you a long, unimpressed look. “Uh-huh.”

“What?” You fold your arms. “It is.”

“Sure,” he drawls, clearly unconvinced but not pushing further. Instead, he just grins wider. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything, you catch movement from across the table. Instinctively, your gaze flicks to Zayne.

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t react. Just takes a slow sip of his drink, as carefully blank as ever. But beneath the table, his fingers brush against yours. Just a fleeting touch.

And suddenly, you remember exactly why you got it.

Not just because you liked it.

Because it was his.

And because every time you tie your hair up, every time his eyes catch on the exposed skin of your neck, every time his lips find the exact spot where the ink sits now—you remember.

You glance back up at him, but his gaze has already moved away, back to the rest of the room like nothing happened. Like he isn’t sitting there, knowing exactly what that tattoo means.

And Caleb—oblivious as ever—just leans back, shaking his head.

The night is winding down. The crowd has thinned, leaving only scattered groups of lingering classmates, voices softer now, laughter blending into the hum of the venue’s closing atmosphere. You weave through them, making your way back from the bar, ready to call it a night.

Near the entrance, Caleb is saying his goodbyes, but as soon as he spots you, his brows furrow slightly. “You’ve been drinking,” he points out, crossing his arms. “You shouldn’t go home alone. I can drive you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “I’ll just take a cab, Caleb. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah, no, that’s not a great idea—”

Before he can finish, Zayne stands. “I’ll drive her.”

The words are calm, matter-of-fact. He rolls down his sleeves as he straightens, glancing briefly at Caleb. “I need to head home anyway.”

Caleb exhales, look relieved. “Alright. Guess that works.” He turns back to you, pointing. “Text me when you get home.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, dad.”

He smirks. “Damn right.” Then he claps Zayne on the shoulder in farewell. “Take care, man.”

With that, goodbyes are exchanged, and you and Zayne step out into the night.

The air is cooler now, crisp against your skin. You’re walking beside him, and without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a second before he pulls away. His scent clings to the fabric, warmth still trapped in it from his body.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” he says, voice quieter now, almost absentminded—like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But there’s a softness to it, a quiet care that makes your chest tighten.

And yet, your mind is already drifting elsewhere—because damn, does he look good tonight.

It’s nothing over the top. With his jacket on you, he’s left in just a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, tucked into tailored black slacks. Simple. Effortless. But there’s something about it—about the way the fabric stretches across his broad shoulders, about the way his arms look unfairly good like that, veins subtly lining his hands—

You’re too busy swooning to realize he’s stopped walking.

You only notice when you take another step and find yourself suddenly alone.

Blinking, you glance to the side—and meet his gaze.

He’s watching you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a small, knowing curve to his lips.

Then, he says your name. Just your name.

And somehow, everything else fades.

The city sounds dull, the cool air forgotten. It’s just him now. The sharp cut of his jaw in the dim streetlights, the way his dark eyes seem to pull you in, holding you there.

Something shifts in them.

“You’re not making this easy for me,” he murmurs, voice low.

You swallow. “What?”

He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “I’m good at controlling myself.” A pause. His gaze drags over you, slow, deliberate. “But not when it comes to you.”

Your pulse stutters.

His eyes trace the thin straps of your dress, the way it exposes your shoulders, your neck—the backless cut hidden beneath his jacket, the slit running high along your leg.

He already liked the dress when he first saw you tonight. You know that. But right now, under his gaze alone, you can feel it.

Then he leans in slightly, his voice quieter now. “What do you think this dress does to me?”

You should be embarrassed. Flustered. And maybe you are, judging by the heat creeping up your neck.

But instead, you square your shoulders and meet his gaze head-on.

“I hope it’s a good one,” you say smoothly. “I bought this dress so you could take it off, after all.”

It comes out steady, confident. But the second the words leave your mouth, heat spreads—your ears, your cheeks burning.

Zayne’s reaction is instant. His pupils darken, something unrestrained flickering in his eyes. For a moment, he just looks at you, unmoving.

Then you notice it.

His ears.

The tips of them, red.

A slow exhale leaves him, and then he steps closer, his voice lower now, edged with something rough.

“Then I better get started on that,” he murmurs. “Preferably not on the sidewalk.”

Just like that, the tension shifts—still charged, but laced with teasing.

You let out a breathy laugh, but your heart is still hammering.

Because the night is far from over.

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

It’s rare for the three of you to get a day off at the same time.

With the way schedules clash—your shifts, Zayne’s surgeries, Caleb’s unpredictable workload—it almost never happens. So when it finally did, Caleb had immediately suggested the three of you hang out.

And you… may have dodged that invitation.

Just this once.

Because as much as you love Caleb, it had been too long since you and Zayne had a day off together. Just the two of you.

And now, here you are.

After spending the entire day lazing around at home, barely leaving the couch between naps, movies, and tangled limbs, you’re now soaking in the warmth of the bathtub, wrapped up in the scent of lavender and the heat of Zayne behind you, his chest firm and solid behind you, the rise and fall of his breathing steady—except for when his lips find your neck.

Again.

And again.

His mouth brushes lazily over your tattoo, lingering like he’s reminding himself it’s there. Like he’s claiming it all over again.

His fingers, damp and slow, skim down your arm, tracing absentminded patterns on your skin before they wander lower, teasing.

A shiver runs through you, and you tighten your grip on your wine glass, trying to focus on not reacting too much.

It was fine. Nice, even. Until suddenly—

His fingers shift.

And—oh.

The touch catches you off guard, a sharp, unexpected spark zipping down your spine. Your body jolts—and in the process, your grip on the wine glass wobbles.

Then, it happens.

The glass tips back.

A slosh of red spills right behind you.

Right onto Zayne.

There’s a beat of silence.

You turn slightly—just in time to see the aftermath.

Zayne’s expression is blank, lips parted slightly in delayed realization, his usually sharp features now half-covered in deep red. A drop of wine drips down his cheek, staining the pale skin of his throat.

He blinks once. Then, slowly, his tongue flicks out, tasting the stray droplet at the corner of his lips.

And that’s it.

Laughter erupts from you, full and unrestrained.

“You—” You can barely get the words out between breaths. “You look like a crime scene.”

Zayne exhales through his nose, lifting a hand to wipe at his face, but it only smears the wine further. You’re still giggling as you shift forward, already moving to climb out of the bath.

“Okay, I’ll grab a towel,” you say between laughs. “You should probably—”

Before you can finish, an arm wraps firmly around your waist.

You barely have time to yelp before you’re pulled right back against him.

The water sloshes over the edges of the tub as you settle on his lap, straddling him now. His arms tighten, caging you in.

You blink down at him.

Zayne blinks back up at you.

His eyes are slightly unfocused, his usually sharp demeanor softened by the alcohol in his system.

Oh. Oh.

You’ve seen Zayne like this before.

Drunk Zayne is rare, but when it happens, one thing is guaranteed—he clings.

And right now? That’s exactly what he’s doing. Sometimes you forget how much of a lightweight he is. Well, lightweight is generous—he really can’t handle alcohol at all, which is probably another reason he avoids it.

His lips brush your cheek, then your jaw, then your nose, peppering soft, uncoordinated kisses, like he has no plan other than covering you in them.

“Zayne,” you try, still half-laughing. “We should get out—”

He hums against your skin, clearly not listening.

His kisses trail lower.

The warmth of his mouth follows the curve of your throat, lingering just below your ear before drifting down.

Your fingers, still damp from the water, absently trace along his chest, gliding over familiar ink.

The thin, sharp line of his tattoo.

Your tattoo.

The heartbeat that matches yours, sitting right over his heart.

You trace the design slowly, feeling the way his muscles shift beneath your touch. Zayne exhales slightly, his body relaxing further against you, but there’s something more in his gaze now—something heated, something deeper.

Your pulse flutters.

Then, your lips curve, eyes flicking back to his.

“Want to continue this out of the tub?”

Zayne blinks at you, momentarily dazed, before letting out a soft chuckle. His hands tighten at your waist.

And then, his lips trail lower again, moving down—

And, well.

Looks like you’re staying in the tub a little longer.

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You wake up to the sight of Zayne’s face, close enough that you can see the faint traces of sleep still clinging to him—the slow rise and fall of his breathing, the way his lashes flicker slightly, the softness in his usually sharp features.

For a moment, you just watch him, warmth settling in your chest.

Then, memories from last night creep in.

Meeting up with Caleb.

Planning to finally tell him about you and Zayne.

You had expected some kind of shock—maybe even a dramatic reaction—but instead, Caleb had just grinned.

A big, knowing, downright cheeky grin.

And then, he said, “Took you long enough.”

That had been enough to send you into stunned silence. Zayne, ever composed, had simply exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

Meanwhile, you had barely managed a flustered, “Wait, what?”

Caleb had just laughed, shaking his head. “Come on. You guys thought you were being subtle? I was just waiting to see how long it would take. Honestly, way longer than I predicted.”

You had groaned, covering your face with both hands as Caleb continued to tease, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

And then—just to really make a point—he had said, “By the way, if you two ever have a kid, I’m calling dibs on godfather.”

At the memory, a smile tugs at your lips, amusement bubbling up all over again.

That’s when you feel movement beside you.

Zayne shifts, his brows furrowing slightly before his eyes flutter open—heavy-lidded and still hazy with sleep.

He takes one look at you, then lazily scoots closer, burying his face against your chest with a soft sigh.

A chuckle escapes you.

“Good morning,” you murmur, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

He doesn’t reply—just hums against your skin, his arms tightening slightly around your waist.

You glance at the clock. It’s still early.

Cuddling for a little while longer wouldn’t be a bad idea.

So you settle in, wrapping your arms around him, feeling the steady warmth of his body against yours.

Zayne exhales, his hold on you easy, content, as he nuzzles against your chest.

And just like that, neither of you are in any hurry to move.

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You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone while waiting for Zayne to arrive. The soft glow of your living room lamp casts a cozy warmth around you, and the smell of sweet tea lingers in the air. You’d already set out his favorite snacks—anything sugary, because your serious, stoic boyfriend has the sweetest tooth.

No alcohol tonight, though. As much as you want to... You have a morning shift tomorrow.

Your thumb pauses on the screen when a post about a dress catches your eye. It’s elegant, a little daring, and something about it reminds you of the dress you wore to your reunion a few months ago. That dress—Zayne’s reaction to it—how he looked at you, touched you...

You glance down at yourself now—loose, comfortable clothes, what you usually wear at home. Practical, sure, but maybe not the most exciting choice.

Thinking for a moment, you finally push yourself up and head to your room.

Just as you’re adjusting the fabric of your outfit in the mirror, you hear the front door open.

“I’m home,” Zayne calls out, his voice steady and familiar.

Something about hearing him say home makes warmth bloom in your chest. You shake the feeling off, smoothing down your dress before stepping out of your room.

Zayne has just finished putting his things away when he turns toward you—and stops.

His gaze moves over you, slow and deliberate, and you see the exact moment something shifts in his expression.

“Looks like I’m a little underdressed for the occasion,” he says, his voice laced with amusement as he starts walking toward you.

You don’t move—just let him take you in, knowing he’s enjoying every second of it.

When he reaches you, he lifts a hand, fingers sliding gently through your hair, gathering it together and lifting it up, exposing the nape of your neck.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin before he leans in and presses a kiss just below your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine.

Then he kisses you.

Your arms wind around his neck as his hands travel down—trailing from your hair to your neck, then lower, fingers brushing over your shoulders, playing with the thin straps of your dress.

Between kisses, he hums, teasing, “I’m supposed to take this off, right?”

You can feel his smile against your lips.

Your own smile mirrors his as you pull him in closer.

“Well,” you say, voice light, playful, “that was the plan.”

Zayne chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Then I better not waste any time.”

And with that, the night truly begins.

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Notes:

I'm framing this like a slow pace montage, following the song yk, which is why it's keep jumping, and If I do say myself it turn out alright! Love this song, love fluff and ofc love Zayne lol I just wish I can highlight more of Zayne's behavior but I feel like this fit the song vibes and lyrics more, next time then. If anyone has ideas about Zayne, I’m open to hearing them! This new hyperfixation needs to be quelled…....

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