#note to self: that's not a promise though
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"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here
procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader
procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.
author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!
There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.
At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.
“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.
Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”
You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”
“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”
Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”
“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”
“And if I don’t like it?”
“It’s on the house.”
“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.
You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.
“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”
“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.
You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.
“What do you mean?”
“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”
“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”
Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.
“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.
“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”
He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”
You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.
By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.
Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.
After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.
And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.
He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.
“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.
“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.
“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”
Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”
“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.
“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.
“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.
He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.
He’d slotted a ring on your finger.
“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”
“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”
Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.
“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.
“Dickhead.”
“Asshole.”
You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.
“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, I probably have to make you a new one.”
“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.
You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.
#stray kids#kpop#skz#stray kids x reader#skz fic#stray kids fic#stray kids fluff#seungmin x reader#seungmin stan#seungmin#seungmin fic#seungmin fluff#kim seungmin#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin skz#seungmin skz#seungmin stray kids#stray kids seungmin#stray kids scenarios#bangchan#minho#changbin#hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#jeongin#seungmin fluff fic#seungmin x reader fic#seungmin x you
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Frank leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips before resting his forehead gently against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his face, his eyes opening as her words lingered in his mind. He understood that it would take time—maybe a long time—for her to adjust to his presence fully, and he knew the fear she’d carried, the impossibility of truly moving on from the past and all the chaos it had brought.
And yet, there was something stirring inside him that he couldn’t quiet. With the note he’d found still in his pocket, he looked at her, taking in the gentle, steadfast love in her gaze. He could feel how much she still loved him, but as he looked into her eyes, he caught himself thinking about James—whether she was still in contact with him, whether there was still a part of her life she felt she had to hold back.
He thought of saying something but stopped, knowing it wasn’t the right time. They’d talked about James, and he had promised not to dwell on it, especially now, when she’d just found a moment of calm.
"I love you too" he simpled said. then, after a pause, he added softly, almost as if he were thinking aloud, "I think…" He hesitated, the thought forming and reshaping in his mind before he let it out. "I think we should… get married again." As soon as the words left his mouth, Frank felt a slight rush of self-consciousness, like maybe it sounded foolish. He knew it wouldn’t erase the past or change everything they’d endured—it wouldn’t magically take away the scars or make everything feel brand new.
His gaze drifted down to her hand, to the spot where her wedding ring had once rested. Gently, he took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along that familiar place on her finger, almost as though he could still feel the ring’s imprint.
"Renew our vows?" he murmured. "Have you kept it? The ring?" His eyes lifted to meet hers, both hopeful and vulnerable, wondering if she had held on to that small piece of their past even through all the time and distance. He sure had kept his, though he’d taken it off when things fell apart, right after James had convinced him she didn’t want to see him anymore.
“I... I want that too, Frank.” Esther murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I want nothing more than for things to be like they were, but...” Her words faltered, and she lowered her gaze, a soft sigh escaping her, as if she were ashamed of her own doubts. “You know…there are days when I wake up and wonder if this is all real. It feels as if I’ll open my eyes and find myself back in this empty house… still waiting.”
Her voice trailed off, and she drew a shaky breath. She’d held onto her strength for so long, but there was a part of her that still feared he might disappear. As if he was nothing more than a ghost, someone time could snatch away once more. But here he was, his hands in hers, his lips brushing against her skin, real and warm.
Slowly, she slid one hand from his grasp and brought it to his face, her fingers tracing the lines of his cheek, grounding herself in his presence.
“I love you, Frank.” She whispered, her voice breaking with the weight of that simple truth. That love had spanned war, distance, and loss. It’d endured, even when she thought it was gone. And now, as she looked into his eyes, it felt stronger, deeper.
She leaned in, letting her lips brush gently, hesitantly, against his.
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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four
Content Warnings: Adult content (video of female masturbation, male masturbation), mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy.
The room is filled with the soft glow of their phone screens, illuminating each face in the dimly lit apartment. The air is warm, thick with a quiet that wraps around them like a blanket—a comfort despite the undercurrent of unspoken tension that has lingered since the night before.
For once, they are not creating but consuming, fingers lazily scrolling through feeds and messages, the world outside their walls momentarily forgotten. It's a rare reprieve from the constant hum of production—the filming, the editing, the brainstorming of ideas that usually consumes their every waking moment. But tonight, it is just them.
Sirius lounges on the couch, his long legs draped over James's lap. His head rests against the armrest, one hand absentmindedly playing with the fringe of the throw pillow beneath him. Remus sits across from them, curled up in an armchair, a mug of tea steaming gently beside him as he reads something off his screen.
"Anything interesting?" Sirius asks without lifting his gaze from his own device. His voice is low, almost indifferent, belying the restless energy that always seems to simmer beneath his calm exterior. Always looking, always reaching for something—distraction, validation, connection—it doesn't matter as long as it fills the void.
James doesn't answer immediately, his thumb hovering over a new notification. A familiar username flashes across his screen, sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through him, quickening his pulse. He swipes it open, and there you are.
"Yeah," James says, sitting up a little straighter. "From her."
This draws Sirius's attention. He shifts, removing his feet from James's lap to sit upright, his gaze already moving to catch a glimpse of the message on James's screen. Even Remus looks up, though he says nothing, observing with that quiet intensity of his.
"What does she say?" Sirius asks, leaning closer.
James opens the message, and there it is—your latest pay-per-view, delivered through DMs, accompanied by a simple, teasing note: A little spontaneous self-love 💋 - $20.
"Listen to this," James murmurs, his voice rich with anticipation as he reads aloud, "A little spontaneous self-love." His words hang in the air, charged with promise, and though he knows it's a PPV, he can't help but feel his pulse quicken at the thought of what images might await behind that price tag. He'd willingly pay double for the privilege of seeing more of you.
Sirius lets out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Spontaneous, huh? Wonder what got her all hot and bothered."
Remus merely raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. But James catches the flicker of interest in those amber eyes, a subtle tell that betrays his stoic facade; Remus might be the picture of restraint, yet beneath that calm surface, curiosity stirs and there’s no hiding it from James.
James doesn't hesitate. He clicks on the message, quickly paying the $20. His movements are swift, almost desperate, as if he fears the video will disappear before he can claim it. The transaction goes through, and the lock icon next to the video turns green. Unlocked.
"Ready?" James's voice is hoarse with anticipation. It's a redundant question—he knows they're ready. They've been waiting for something like this since they first discovered your page.
Sirius leans in, eyes glued to the screen, while Remus perches on the arm of the sofa, his usual composure giving way to a hint of eagerness. James hits play, and the video begins.
There you are. Framed perfectly within the confines of the screen, you lie back against your bed, the soft light casting shadows across your bare skin. There's nothing left to the imagination now—every curve, every line of your body is on full display—but it's the way you touch yourself that draws them in further. Your hands explore with a slow, deliberate pace that leaves nothing untouched, and the camera, unflinching, records every sigh, every shudder.
James's eyes remain glued to the screen, his breath hitching as he watches you take the dildo in hand. You're gentle with yourself, guiding the tip to your entrance and pushing it in slowly, deliberately. His heart pounds in his chest as he takes in every detail—the way your muscles tense, then relax; the little gasp that escapes your lips.
Then, you reach for the vibrator. It's small but powerful, and as you press it against your clit, James can't help but imagine what the sensation must feel like. Witnessing this intimate act, seeing you so lost in your own pleasure, sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his trousers suddenly too tight.
"Fuck," Sirius murmurs, his voice a low growl. He's already moving, hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. There's no hesitation in his actions—Sirius Black has never been one to deny himself what he wants when he wants it. And right now, what he wants is release.
James glances up at Remus, his eyes also locked onto the screen. He sees the subtle clench of Remus's jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks, and recognises them for what they are. Restraint, and barely held restraint at the.
"She's..." Remus starts, voice barely above a whisper, but he doesn't need to finish. The sentiment hangs in the air, understood by all.
"Yeah," James agrees, his own throat dry. This video feels different from the others—less staged, more intimate. As if you'd simply set up the camera and let whatever happened next unfold naturally. That thought alone makes his heart pound harder against his ribs.
The tempo quickens, your hips tilting with a sharpness that betrays the urgency in your movements. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white against the dark fabric. The sounds you make—soft moans that grow louder, more desperate—are all the proof they need of the pleasure coursing through you. You're on the brink, teetering on the edge of release, and that's what keeps them riveted to the screen.
A heat stirs low in James' belly, winding tighter with each passing second. His hand twitches toward his lap, seeking relief from the pressure building within him. He unzips his jeans, taking himself in hand without a second thought for the presence of Sirius and Remus. This is nothing new to them; it's part of the intimacy they've built over time, a testament to the trust and understanding that binds them together. And in this moment, it feels right, as if they're reaching out across the distance to share in your pleasure.
Sirius is already there, his own hand moving in a slow rhythm that mirrors your pace. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire as he watches the video play out. There's a hunger there that James recognizes, one that has always set Sirius apart. Out of all of them, Sirius has been the most expressive about his admiration for your work, and seeing him so visibly affected by you only adds fuel to the fire smouldering within James.
Remus, however, still holds himself in check, but James isn't fooled. He sees the way Remus's eyes darken, how his breath hitches just slightly when you come into view, your body quivering as you ride out your climax. The sound of your soft, pleading moan fills the room, and James swallows hard, his own body responding as he follows Sirius's lead.
The tension between them is almost palpable, a current of anticipation that charges the air. They've watched countless videos together before, but this... this feels different. More intimate. Perhaps it's because they've been following you for so long, tracing the curve of your journey even as they remained shadows on the periphery. Or maybe it's the way you responded to their messages, teasing and tantalising, playing into their fantasy until it felt like this video was made just for them.
James's hand moves in a steady rhythm, his breath hitching as he watches you on screen. The sight of your pleasure, the sounds of your satisfaction—it's intoxicating. And even though you can't touch him, can't see him, he feels intimately connected to you in this moment.
You're coming down from your high, body still twitching with aftershocks as you slowly pull the dildo out, your legs quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. Seeing you so raw, so undone—it makes his own release feel imminent, pushing at the edge of his control.
"Fuck," Sirius groans next to him, his own hand moving faster now, his body taut with the strain of holding back. His eyes are glued to the screen, watching every detail unfold, and when he speaks next, his voice is a low rasp. "She's... incredible."
James doesn't trust himself to respond, the pressure growing more insistent with each passing second. He knows he's close, but he also knows that Sirius is right there with him, teetering on the brink.
Even Remus, usually the most composed among them, has abandoned any pretense of restraint. His own hand dips below the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the quickened pace of his breath. He's quieter than the others, his moans swallowed by the night, but the desire in his gaze is just as potent as he watches you on the screen.
It doesn't take much longer after that. James's hand becomes a blur of motion, and his breathing grows ragged as he finally lets go, body straining against the back of the couch as he finishes, a low groan escaping from deep within his chest as he keeps his gaze fixed on the screen. Sirius is right behind him, body stiffening as he curses through gritted teeth, eyes rolling back into his head as he comes undone.
Remus is quieter, but James can tell he's just as affected by the way his body goes rigid and his breath hitches in his throat. It's rare for them to be so in sync, but when it happens, it's nothing short of powerful.
The video ends just as they're all coming down from their highs, with your body relaxed and satisfied on the screen, a soft smile playing on your lips. It feels like the perfect ending to an unexpectedly intense moment, and the room falls silent for a few beats as they each struggle to catch their breath.
Sirius is the first to break the silence, his voice low and husky. "Fucking hell," he breathes, leaning back into the plush couch, his body humming with a satisfaction that he wears like a second skin. "That was..."
James can only nod in agreement, his heart still racing from the rush of release. His muscles feel warm and loose, languid in the aftermath of his orgasm. "She's incredible," he manages to say, though the words don't seem nearly enough to capture the depth of what he's feeling.
Remus doesn't speak, but the quiet intensity in his gaze as it remains fixed on the screen speaks volumes. He sits back, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, the lines of his body relaxed yet charged with an undercurrent of desire. His lips curve into a faint smile, not quite smug but undeniably pleased.
For a few beats, no one says anything else. They simply sit there, the air between them heavy with the shared experience of release and the lingering echo of your voice in their ears. It's a rarity for all three to be so visibly affected, so captivated by one woman, but it's undeniable—you've reeled them in, hook, line, and sinker.
His fingers hover over the screen, still warm from the video that has just ended. He reads your message again, the words teasing at the edges of his mind. "A little spontaneous self-love," you had called it, but he can't help but wonder if there was more to it than that. If maybe, just maybe, you had made this video with him in mind.
ProngsPlayground_free: Just watched this... and damn, it was exactly what we needed. Whether it was spontaneous or not, you've got us all hooked. 😉 We're definitely addicted now.
His fingers hover over the keys as he imagines your reaction. He's not usually so bold, but the way the three of them were drawn to you, compelled by your presence even through a screen, emboldens him. You're no longer a stranger—not after the nights spent replying to your messages, each one laced with just enough intrigue to keep them coming back for more. With a final tap, he hits send and leans back in his chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
Sirius senses the shift and turns his head slightly, just enough to catch the tail end of James's expression. "What did you say?"
"Only that we quite enjoyed her... spontaneous creativity," James replies, his grin broadening as he runs a hand through his already tousled hair.
Sirius chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Prongs?"
James simply shrugs, his smile unwavering. "Just stating the obvious, Padfoot. She should know the effect she's having."
Remus, who has been conspicuously quiet, finally breaks his silence. His voice is measured, but there's an undercurrent of something deeper, more profound. "It's not just about the effect, though, is it?" He shifts slightly, fingers absently straightening the wrinkles in his shirt. "She's good at what she does—remarkably so."
"Good?" Sirius echoes, his grin broadening until it's a mirror of James's own. "Rem, that's an understatement. She's bloody brilliant. Did you see how she—"
He cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head as if to clear it. "No, 'brilliant' doesn't even begin to cover it."
James' fingers tap absently on his phone, his mind already scrolling through the messages from subscribers on their OnlyFans pages. It's strange, this balance they've found between being creators and consumers. They're always mindful of their own content, managing messages and comments with a professional ease that belies the hours spent behind the scenes. But nothing captures their attention quite like your updates, especially when they're unexpected.
It's not that their own fans aren't important—they are, each one a vital part of the intricate web that supports their lifestyle. But there's something about you that draws them in more deeply, more personally. Maybe it's the mystery, how you reveal so little of yourself beyond your content. Or maybe it's your attitude, a quiet confidence undercut by a playful edge that keeps them coming back for more.
Remus clears his throat, drawing the eyes of both James and Sirius. He doesn’t speak right away, just holds their gazes with a look that’s too deep, too practiced in hiding secrets. It’s a look that has always made James wonder about the thoughts swirling behind those amber eyes.
“You both sense it as well, don't you?” Remus finally says, his voice softer than before, threaded with a seriousness that tugs at the edges of James's awareness. “That we’re... perhaps a bit too into her?"
Sirius laughs, the sound bright against the growing tension. He leans back into the plush cushions of the couch, stretching out his legs with a contented sigh. “That's the whole point, Rem," he says, grinning as he meets Remus's gaze. “We subscribed because we were already too into her.” His smile widens, a teasing glint appearing in his grey eyes. “And don't try to play innocent. We've all seen how you watch her videos.”
Remus doesn't deny it; instead, his faint smile deepens, the corners tugging just slightly at the edges, revealing nothing and everything all at once. It's a silent admission that speaks volumes in the quiet room.
James can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration at the realisation. Even Remus, always the voice of reason, hasn't escaped your allure. There's something about you that's different, something that calls to them, despite the miles and screens that separate you. This shared intrigue binds them tighter, their camaraderie now laced with a tangible curiosity that makes the air buzz with anticipation.
Sirius leans forward again, his grin now mirroring that of the Cheshire Cat. "Don't you wonder if she knows? That she's got us hanging on her every word?"
James lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, his gaze flickering back to the phone as though expecting it to spring to life any moment. "Maybe. But if she does, she plays it well."
Remus chuckles softly, the sound muffled behind his hand. "Isn't that part of the thrill, though? The not knowing."
"Exactly." James nods, eyes still locked on the screen before him. There's an intensity to his gaze, a focus that hints at something deeper than mere interest. It's as though they've stumbled upon a game whose rules are still being written, where each move is a step into the unknown.
A soft buzz draws their attention back to the phone cradled in James's hand. Another message from you lights up the screen, and his heart does a strange little flip at the sight of your words.
You: I’m glad you all enjoyed it. 😊 I’ve got plenty more spontaneous moments like that coming your way. Hope you’re ready. 😘
Sirius leans over James's shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation as he reads your message aloud. "She's teasing us again. I love it."
James chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. His fingers hover over the screen, the excitement of your interaction coursing through him like a live wire. This connection, as strange and unexpected as it is, feels almost... exhilarating.
"So do I," James murmurs, his eyes closing as he leans back into the couch. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a faint smile. "We're hopeless."
Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping his lips despite the gravity of their conversation. "Well, if we are, at least she's worth it."
The sentiment hangs in the air, an unspoken agreement between them. They don't need to voice it; they can feel it in the way their hearts beat faster when they think of you, in the way their minds wander back to your voice, your touch, your smile.
Sirius stretches languidly, every muscle in his body protesting the movement. He stands with a groan, padding towards the kitchen. "I don't know about you lot, but I'm starving. That took more out of me than I anticipated."
James chuckles, watching him go. "You're always hungry after."
"Can't help it," Sirius replies, a grin tugging at his lips even as he rummages through the cupboards for a quick meal. "Seeing her like that... it does something to me."
Remus stifles a laugh, pushing himself off the couch and stretching languidly. "He's not wrong."
James lingers on the couch, staring at the screen of his phone where your message still glows. He knows he shouldn't be this intrigued, this ensnared by the allure of something so intangible and yet so compelling. As a creator himself, he knows better than to get lost in the illusion. But there's something about you, something about this world you've woven that beckons him with an irresistible pull.
It's more than just the content, more than the fantasy. It's the personal touch, the way you interact with each comment, each piece of feedback. There's an authenticity to it that sets it apart from the usual sterile interactions online. Maybe that's why he's allowing himself to get swept up in this, to lose himself in the narrative you spin, even if only through the confines of a screen.
He doesn't know what will come next or how long this will last, but for now, he's content to let things unfold naturally. Whatever direction you choose to take, whatever spontaneous moment you conjure up next, he'll be there—watching, enjoying, and perhaps even becoming a little more entangled in the web you weave.
For now, though, he tucks his phone away and heads for the kitchen where his boys are congregating, their voices a comforting hum in the background. The warmth of your words lingers, a reminder of the connection that, however fleeting, has sparked something within him, within all of them.
Taglist: @alohastitch0626
#Poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#Sirius black x reader#Sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#james potter x you#james potter x reader#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfic
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Nothing new, just trying to loosen up by drawing in ms paint.
#my art#sketchy poo#oc#baldur's gate 3#bg3#Juana#Diorbhail/Fiona#Tav#bg3 tav#Durge#the dark urge#elf#i wanna see if i can draw some more tomorrow#note to self: that's not a promise though#anyways i feel like ive figured out the faces of these two gals pretty good by now#scars are still weird however#goodnight!
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MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
Ghost
Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later 👀.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, he’s not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”
He’s very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.
He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”
König
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.
It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
“Inch by bloody inch.”
Valeria
You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
Price
He’s so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.
When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”
“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.
“And all mine.”
Horangi
You’re the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.
Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”
Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”
Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it.
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.
Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”
Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.
E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”
He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.
“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost
AO3 Wattpad
#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#mw2 ghost#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#konig x reader#konig smut#ghost x reader#john price x reader#john price smut#ghost smut#alejandro vargas x reader#valeria garza#valeria x reader#phillip graves
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^ this is way too important to stay hidden in the tags.
Reminder: You don't have to constantly apologize. It accomplishes nothing. It's not being polite. It's an expression of insecurity that you should stop to start feeling more secure in general. You can do this.
#I'm trying to be that person. I promise#not totally there yet though#but working on it every fucking day#note to self#about life
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A Helping Hand
You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.
Word count: ~3100
Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)
Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well.
“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions.
And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have.
“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book.
Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”
You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words.
The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers.
You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals.
And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class.
Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul.
But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study.
“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could.
And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch.
“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea.
But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain.
“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes.
You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them.
Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms.
You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk.
“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.
She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?”
“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks.
“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.”
“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it.
You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you.
“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact.
You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.
You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open.
“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink.
“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan.
She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed.
You’ve never felt this way before.
“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore.
Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”
You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down.
She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”
Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?”
“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”
“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her.
“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump.
You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked.
The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it.
“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”
You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat.
“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts.
You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...”
She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?”
You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin.
“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins.
“You want me to help you?”
Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.”
“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.”
You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.”
Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.”
You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours.
You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt.
“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down.
“Please, professor, touch me.”
“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower.
Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well.
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says.
“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum.
“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better.
“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?”
“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too.
“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing.
“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone.
Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling.
“How are you feeling now, baby girl?”
Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.”
Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?”
You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed.
“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on.
Your mouth falls open.
She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning.
“Wait, can you-”
She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.”
You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.”
She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.”
She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you.
She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.”
You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips.
“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.”
Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good.
“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.”
Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation.
“Are you ready?” Agatha asks.
“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in.
Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size.
“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.”
“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.”
Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her.
“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp.
“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?”
“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble.
“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again.
Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them.
“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes.
You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”
She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.”
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x reader#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha x you
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| MY STARGIRL + rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne.
+cw. — f!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, established relationship, unprotected, s/d dynamics, explicit smut, rafayel is in heat, period sex, oral sex, f!overstim + m!overstim, | +wc. — 3.5k |
+syn. — the thought of having a quickie with you occurred to him so suddenly and so enormously that all he needed was just to make it go away. However, it did not stop there.
+notes. — something possessed me while I wrote this. So happy that I’m finally making the debut post for this fandom & thanks to @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading all my lads pieces. | redirect to blog navigation
◈ RAFAYEL.
“It’s just the tip baby,” Rafayel whispers against your ears followed by a prolonged groan. Encapsulated by his arms you feel immobile under his touch. He adds, “I promise.” You know him better than he knows himself. He says it's just the tip but the way he is being handsy with you, playing with the hem of your robes, pressing himself against you it does not strengthen the promise part of his word.
“I don’t think you will. . .ahaAah!” His lips have already moved onto the bottom of your nape. You can feel his teeth sinking into your skin. You can still look at the view of the vast blue of the sea through the window but as his hands skim under your dress cupping your breasts you moaningly exclaim, “I bet you won’t stop just at the tip.” There is a hint of mockery in your tone, underneath that, a challenge. Rafayel can take on challenges quite well even though he will whine about them throughout, very well when it is coming from you but not a taunt. That’s still a little hard to digest for him.
“Hah! We’ll see who’s on the winning side,” He rasps against your ears before turning you towards himself. Now your back is against the warm glass window. The heat does not irritate your skin since the sun is not very rowdy today but Rafayel is. Rafayel does not wait any further for any form of resistance but ends up smashing his lips against yours. It is the first time he has been like this, so needy, so rough, and above everything you like it. Is he on his heat cycle already? Both of your hands rest on his chest, trying to push him away at the possible realization because it would be dangerous for both of you but he just wouldn’t budge. So, instead of trying to resist, you just give in.
“We’re not going to do this here, are we?”Rafayel does not answer your question with words but with his actions. He clusters all your dress up and tucking it over your boobs. You gulp as you help him to unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants hit the floor, you can see the evidence of his yearning for you.
Rafayel takes you into his lap by hoisting you up in his arms. The moment he pushes the head of his cock inside you, a gush of warmth washes all over your body. It is a beach resort solely owned by him where you have accompanied him but there must be at least a few staff, right? What if they see you like this? The chances are bleak but never zero. Those worrisome thoughts were pushed aside you feel the base of his cock hitting your skin with a strong deep thrust making you arch and moan. You tip your head forward to say, “But Rafayel. . .you said. . . it's just the tip.”
“And you said I —ahh— I can’t be stopped at just the tip.” He states as he starts to rut into you. “I'm just proving you right. Doesn't it feel good to be on the winning side?” it does . . . it does . . . your arms encapsulate around his shoulders as he starts to bob you up and down his fat shaft as you bury your face into his shoulders. He is stronger than his usual self. As he quickens his pace you start to whimper and you can feel him leaking and growing inside you, reaching your sweet spot as he keeps rutting into you in full yet strong thrusts.
By now, he has fucked you in different positions and different places of the resort keeping in mind not to finish inside you. He can not just help it: chasing the thought of cumming inside you especially when he fucked you raw for the first time. But he can wait. No. he will wait for you till you are begging for him.
And, when the sun sinks into the sea making the sky blush at its fullest, you and him are deep in slumber, in front of the fireplace, under the sheets, naked underneath, and holding each other.
◈ SYLUS.
It’s painful. He has been teasing you for a while now and your posture does not make it easier for you. Your muscles feel clammy. The way Sylus keeps rubbing the tip of his cock-head against your soft, tender flesh of your femininity gradually wears off your patience, thinning your limit and testing your sanity. It was you. It was all you. You admit that but you did not think he would be able to keep up when you kept being so needy, so ready for him. By now, you have come to know his melting points and you know when to abuse them and when not to. When you said you needed him, despite being in your months-time, at first he hesitated because you are not someone who can easily beg or ask for things but when you kept being handsy, and distracting him he said he would— with just the tip— a mere quickie but you never knew it would turn out to be this tormenting.
“Wait Sylus. You gasp as he rests both of his palms over your respective knees. This position.”
“Yeah, too deep?” Sylus verbalized with a veil of mischief over his face as he spread your legs apart as a result pushing the tip of his cock-head inside you. But before now, he would jock down to kiss you, suckle at your nipples, and play with your hair but his cock would still be rubbing against the outer folds of your pussy, and truth be told, it was good, it was okay you felt satisfied but the moment you felt his cock inside you, even just the tip, it made you want all of him. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”. He isn’t; if anything he is diluting your self-control by pushing himself in you in small doses.
Sylus smiles as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. He sees it the way you keep swallowing, gasping for breath, biting your lip, touching yourself — you do that when you want something yet can not ask for it. As you half-lay on the bed, with elbows resting on the mattress creating dips under the influence of your pressure Sylus leans towards you his hands still intact on your knees, spreading them further as a result of which he sinks more into you; you gasp followed by a moan feeling almost half of him inside you. With a crease amongst your eyes, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down while the night robe is barely covering your breasts you look divine under the dim light of the room.
You can feel how aroused you are. It would merely take a few thrusts to make you cum. He can feel that too yet dares to ask, “Do you want me to move?” Since he asked so nicely you decide to play into his little game. Wrapping one of your arms around his nape, you pull him into a strong, yearnful kiss. He can tell. He can certainly tell how much you want him now. As you slowly feel his hands under your waist locking in, your legs start to curl around his hips The lights go dead when you pull away from the kiss to take a breather and he pushes all of him into you adjusting you in his lap. A gasp of a high note blesses Sylus’s ears followed by a trail of short quick huffs as if he ran fingers along the piano keys. Even with the lights out, when you glimpse his eyes on yours a hot wave of embarrassment washes over you.
The lights are alive again when you bury your face in his chest.
“Kitten, you doing good?” He asks that with the whole of him inside you despite knowing how such soul staring gaze while having sex makes you nervous. He walks into a different room in that position carrying you where two mirrors are placed opposite to each other.
You barely peep seeing him through the mirror at first and then look into his eyes, commanding, “Fuck me as you hate me Sylus.”
A throaty chuckle escapes from his chest as he says, “Y’know I can’t do that.” As he puts you on the bathroom sink. “However, I shall not disappoint my queen.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
◈ XAVIER.
Xavier claims that he is not much fond of the idea of punishments in general but he has never denied yours. In fact, he has enjoyed them thoroughly till the end. He has never been the one to ask things right away and always ends up taking detours after detours observing your expressions so minutely, so intently since it sends an ample amount of electric thrill in his heart for a few seconds — the way you look away when he makes advances on you, the way you quickly lick your bottom lip before dismissing his approaches or the quickening of your breaths, the flustered look— even if it is just for a mere few seconds — it’s all worth it in the end when you just give in, doing all those innuendos, craving your walking path only to him and him alone.
But, this time you decided to try tackling him from a different angle. You did not resist like you usually do when he slowly started to cave into you. In fact, you agreed with him right away. Both of your stress would just sublime especially if you two took a quickie break together. Ah! The look on his face— was priceless: with one of his eyebrows pitched higher than the other as a small crescent appears along his lips: he is so confused. Even if Xavier can not quite navigate your thoughts he is not backing out and you know he won’t.
As you sit on the nightstand crossing your legs, one upon the other with your heels still intact you summon him with your arm raised, all the fingers lightly curled into a fist except your index finger that moved to and fro for him, while Xavier stands at an arm's length from you. He walked towards you but stood, waiting for your next move. You loosen his tie and pull it away from his collar with a swish. He leans into you but stops midway as he feels your pointed nails digging into his chest.
“Turn around,” you utter with a grave tone. It is so odd to see you like this that Xavier can not help but be pulled into this intimidating daze of yours. After you tie his hands at the back he turns around and then the fun begins. Xavier loses his mind for a good minute when he sees you taking his cock out of his trousers, jocking down with lips forming an unfamiliar pout, only to spit on it, stroking his length all over, coating your saliva on his cock. He groans loudly enough for you to look at him. Is he okay? With his head tipped backward you fail to gauge his expressions so you spit on your hand to use it as a lube for his cock.
Xavier tips his head forward as he feels his cock being surrounded by something, but only a part of it. There is a gap in between your cross-legged sitting posture: the gap between the end of your knee and the apex of your calf muscle with your other knee underneath.
“You don’t mean — Xavier stammers— that I—
“Yes. I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” You exclaim with a firm tone by keeping your fingertips underneath your hand, elbow rested over your knee as you wait for his move. As he starts to move he can understand how much he has to work for himself to cum and you are just staring at him. It drives him insane, really. With his hand tied at the back, he can only do so much so you decide to help him— out of pity of course. After you unbutton his shirt one by one, you hold his hard nipple with your sharp nails and pinch it; Xavier has to fight the urge to hold himself back from latching his lips on your warm skin.
As your hands move upwards, caressing his cheeks, thumb abusing his lips. He glances before he takes your thumb into his mouth while his hips are in constant motion. “Go ahead. Get yourself off.” Yeah! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. You watch his face contort, your thumb pressed in between his teeth making you wince as he peaks his orgasm. He pulls out his cock and the exhaustion is heavy on his muscles.
Inserting a finger into the gap between his belt and trousers, you pull him towards yourself, whispering, “Good boy ”over his lips before kissing him. He moans while kissing and surrenders as you untie the knot of his hands which immediately clamp around your shoulder heads. Well, aren't you an angel for showing kindness to him?
“More. . . more . . . I want more. . .” Xavier mumbles taking a quick breather before diving back to one more kiss and this time he is rougher than usual.
◈ ZAYNE.
Zayne has been teasing you for . . . ah ! You do know how long has it been since he pushed you over the pool table. His cock is still inside his pants, intact but awake. Although the only view you have is the ceiling and sometimes his face when he rubs the clit folds by running his thumb roughly over them while the rest of the finger rests against your inner thigh. He has unbuttoned your dress shirt enough to have a view of a slice of your supple skin. Every time he presses your bud, followed by a rough rub towards the apex of your cunt he sees your navel sink. It turns him on, too much for him to ignore the attention that his cock has been begging. Your palms lay flat on the green of the pool table yet every time he jocks down to have a taste of your arousal your nails dig into the corase of the table.
As Zayne stands up again, you whimper before saying, “Stop teasing, me. just put it in already. ” The tip of his nose glistens. Does he know that? He licks his lips before responding, “But I haven’t even. . . he trails off because part of him does not wanna scare you by bringing the thought into light that how he has not taken out his cock yet. He has been touching your folds, lapping over your arousal once in a while. You can not see but only hear the lewdity now while Zayne can see that you are so wet that the moss green of the pool table has become dark green. You don’t need to know that, not now.
“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.” Zayne supplies in a tart manner but actually, he is reminding himself not to cross the thin boundaries too much otherwise he won’t be able to keep his urges at bay. He is under the influence of the same pain as you yet you are so whiny about it which only makes it harder for him to refuse you in this vulnerable needy state. He was just teasing you, flirting ever so slightly to get you comfortable and now he is in deep trenches of pleasuring you.
But, there is pain underneath. Your body tells him that you want more but he is not sure about himself how long he can keep at it.
Fuck. He can’t. Not anymore. In a series of rough and messy movements, he has his cock out of his pants, aligning to your entrance. One glance and the moment he is inside you he can feel your cunt clench around his cock while your legs wrap around his hips. He can hear the click of your heels as he leans over you, his face in the nook of your neck, not moving but still adjusting to the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped around him but you are so impatient. He feels your wet suck of the lip over his collarbones which denotes his desire for you. As he starts to buck his hips against you, you suddenly think how the design of the ceiling is not boring anymore.
#love and deepspace imagines#love and deepspace headcanons#love and deepspace smut#rafayel smut#sylus smut#xavier smut#zayne smut#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x mc#rafayel x y/n#lads smut#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x mc#sylus x y/n#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#lads scenarios#lads spoilers#lads headcanons#lads imagine#lnds smut
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"Where in the infinite-" Danny rubbed his head slowly, feeling as if he got hit by multiple trains one after the other. Which... Okay yea considering who he was punched by that was probably the equivalent.
Note to self, when sparring with the Ghost King probably don't tell him to punch you so hard you would feel it next week.
Actually. Wait.
Danny touched the spot where he was punched, tentatively.
It didn't hurt.
Okay so maybe it was being punched through dimensions that hurt so much.
Noted.
Okay, now where-
"Excuse me, mister?" Danny whipped his head around so fast that if he didn't have his ghostly powers he would have probably snapped it. "Are you a fairy?"
Okay- Okay that's a child-
One who looks like he's been crying. A lot.
"Uh, what-" It took a second for Danny to actually register the question, but his mouth went off before it finished actually. "Oh, me? Huh, yea I'm a fairy. Totally. Don't tell anyone else though-"
"Woah..." The kid's eyes sparkled which, okay yea Danny preferred this over the dull ones he had seen a moment prior even though he only just met this kid-
===
An entire week later, Bruce Wayne bore witness to his new fairy friend kneeling over in pain as if he just took the hardest punch in his life.
Safe to say, he was not amused. So not amused, that he broke his promise to not show Phantom to anyone else because he was under the assumption his new friend was dying.
Safe to say, Alfred was, also, not exactly amused.
#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#No idea what I'm doing#I can't write children so I just ended it as quickly as I began#HHAHAHAHAHAH#also#Pariah Dark took Danny's challenge and went: Bet.#And made the damage of his punch travel through time entirely to next week as promised
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All the better to eat you
werewolf!Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: You muster the courage to visit Scaretale, with your heart full of hope for a magical romance. After all, the club promises that no client would leave without having their wishes fulfilled. So the love you've been longing after should be waiting for you, right?
warnings: werewolf!Steve; dark!Steve; monsterfucking, but no bestiality; heavy dub-con; blowjob/facefucking (possibly the nastiest bj I've ever written 😳); unprotected sex; knotting; biting; size kink;
word count: 5.3k
Author's Note: This is a part of the Scaretale universe. I think it's fitting I'm starting the monster fucking extravaganza with my fave man to ruin me, right? 🤭 The title is an obvious tease on the classic Red Riding Hood text.
It was a thrill reminiscent of the first minutes of a movie. The kind you watched on a late autumn evening, with a candle lit up and hot chocolate in hand, curled up on a couch and wary of any sounds creaking inside the house.
It spiked pulse and lured in with the mystical, almost forbidden atmosphere; keeping you on your toes in fear of something truly scary jumping out at you.
You grew up in a rather tolerant household, taught not to be scared of monsters more than you should human men. Still, certain caution and fear pumped through your veins as you neared the entrance of the Scaretale.
A building straight out of a fairytale, situated on the border of lands between human and monstrous worlds. Though those merged fluently over the past half a century, or so. Half of your coworkers were other species. It was impolite to call them creatures, or monsters, even if that word somehow always echoed in your head.
Perhaps you’d never have the balls to visit Scaretale, if it wasn’t for the deepening sense of loneliness and heartbreak. And since your regular methods at dating all failed, leaving you with an even worse feeling of self-loathing, the glow of the letters embroidered on the dark leaflet enticed you even more.
All fairy tales install fear, but they also give satisfying completion in the end. Come and start your own tale, find who you’ve been missing. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after.
Scaretale tempted with making those dreams come true. Was it naive of you to have your heart squeezing in hope at the prospect of it?
Not a part of you was a romantic - it was all of you. Craving someone to share the life with. You didn’t expect perfection, that was unrealistic. But you yearned for connection and support, for a warm embrace to hold you after a tiring day, for someone to call you theirs and mean it.
Oh gods, how obsessively you sometimes wished that someone would really consider you theirs - even to the point of possessiveness, of certain ownership.
You explained it with your prolonged lack of any deep connection and love. A hole in your heart that kept growing and growing, until it was no longer sated by casual dates and sweet flirting, but needed a more intense, obsessive kind of love.
If human men failed in that department, maybe a monster would be your match. Didn’t even have to provide a warm embrace, you joked to yourself as you readied for the night. A nice, cold vampire would do. They had years to mature, most of them had an established income, or savings, a sense of dark humor.
So you left your apartment with your heart fluttering, moved by the flashes of dreams of a great love you’ve been chasing half of your life.
However, the second you stepped inside the Scaretale, your heart froze for a second.
It didn’t look scary, nor was it filled with screams and sounds of violence. Quite the contrary, the air of tranquility coated the space. But the glow within, that didn’t seem to come off of any actual lamp, heightened the sense of wariness.
Humans were here, but it was obvious this space belonged to the monsters and was most of all their realm. That enchanting sense of calm began feeling like a mesmer that forced your body to move forward, while your brain filled with rising anxiety whispering that perhaps it would be better to leave.
Somehow, you couldn’t.
You took a deep breath, smelling sweet berries and gardenias in the most natural combination, as if you were walking through an actual garden. It was relaxing, yet in a way seemed to clog your mind.
Maybe if you went outside for a minute to breathe the crispy, chilly air of late October evening, it would clear your head and help you regroup your thoughts.
Even as that thought formed in your head, your body didn’t move toward the exit. Only a step forward.
At your pace - shy and unsure, but never a step back.
The echo of the words from the leaflet clenched your heart in a tight grip. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after. It appeared to be an actual enchantment.
Scared, you looked around. No one was charging at you, no gnarly vines gripped you to swallow you under the ground. Patrons were calmly mingling around. Some sat in booths alone, simply observing the others. Maybe even looking for the same thing as you - someone to love. Or less romantically, someone to share a passionate night with.
There were also groups, like in one of the big booths where a bunch of thickly muscled, quite scary looking orcs were drinking beer. Neither of them looked approachable, their faces seemed frozen in permanent scowl. Their bodies, though clean of any trace of it, screamed of bloodbath.
In the center of the room, far deep inside the neverending space of the club, stood an oval bar. The shelves hanging above the counter were so thin it looked like the glasses and bottles were floating in the air, among teardrop-shaped bulbs of light. A slim, graceful bartender was running the bar; her hair long and a color of impossible blue.
Two men sat at the bar, their gazes turning your way as you walked closer. At a first glance they appeared human, but the similarity quickly dissolved. Their dark skin had markings of burgundy red that flashed with a shade of molten lava. Between the curls of their dark hair sparked flickers of pure fire.
Ifrits.
A flush of heat passed over you as they scanned your form with interest. For a moment you felt a spike of curiosity, wondering how an ifrit’s heat would feel against your skin. But it quickly passed, being only a figment of natural desire, but not the deep connection you searched.
The men seemed to read you well enough to realize you weren’t one looking for an adventure and they weren’t interested in providing more than that. They nodded politely at you, then moved their gazes to roam around.
Though you felt a certain relief, there was also that bitter pang of sadness. Once again, you weren’t what someone was looking for.
All those years you repeated over and over again to yourself, that it was okay to not be interested in someone. After all, you weren’t interested in some people either. But for so long it felt as if you were never anyone’s choice, that you couldn’t help but think you would never be.
When you went out with your friends, back in college years, or even recently, someone always flirted up, or approached your group. Just not you. All your friends, but never you. Some talked to you, but it was obvious they weren’t interested in more.
A dreadful thought settled with heavy weight on your shoulders. What if you were now trapped here forever? Not leaving without your ever after, but if there was no one for you, what would happen to you?
Just when your heart squeezed painfully, your chin dropping to your chest as you stared at the dark green floor in hope to hide the shine of your tears, a low, rumbling sound teased your ear.
You didn’t feel anyone’s presence behind you, or anywhere near you, but you heard that sound. That… growl.
Slowly, you raised your head and looked around. For a long moment you didn’t notice anyone who could’ve been the owner of that voice. Until your eyes settled on the shadowed nook across from the bar.
Only a faint outline of the silhouette was visible from your standing point. And a pair of glowing, blue eyes. Beautiful, but wild. Something dangerous lurked in that gaze, raising goosebumps on your arms.
Anxiety rose anew, your instincts screaming at you to run. Fast and far. But you couldn’t move your feet an inch back, only stay in place, or move forward.
Breath hitched in your lungs as the mysterious shadow slowly stood up, stretching to its full form. He was even bigger than you assessed him to be while sitting. Those eyes held yours captive, demanding you watch him as he approached in slow steps. Once he got into the light and you took in all of him, your breathing stopped altogether.
He wasn’t just big. He was huge! And broad. Massive. His dark clothes didn’t hide what was obviously cords of muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. While his shoulders were wide enough to get stuck in the door, his waist was tapered. His legs were long, but with thick thighs. Legs built for running.
For chasing…
His dark blonde hair curled at his nape, his beard was thick and trimmed. You saw curls of dark golden hair covering his forearms, where the sleeves of his dark sweater were rolled up, revealing skin.
As he approached you, his tongue swiped out to lick his bottom lip, then over the upper row of his teeth. You caught a glimpse of a sharp canine, but it wasn’t a vampiric one.
No, this monster was very much living. Blood and flesh and all things primal.
A werewolf.
Your body jolted, struck with an inner bolt of adrenaline. Like at a jumpscare in a horror movie, but this one very much real.
Your heart thumped rapidly, forcing your blood to rush so fast it almost made you dizzy. It was scary. He was scary. Yet, you couldn’t help, but follow that sensation further. Just like never turning off the horror movie and continuing to watch it, even though you’re shaken and sweaty.
“Hello.”
His greeting was so simple, seemingly unimpressive, but the timbre of his voice alone made it a knee-weakening seduction.
Or maybe a threat…
Because the way he loomed over you, his eyes never leaving you, you started to realize that he wouldn’t allow you to step away from him.
“Hi,” you squeaked out, then cleared your throat to hopefully regain your normal voice.
“I won’t ask what a sweet bunny like you is doing here,” his sharp, white teeth flashed in a truly wolfish smile, “but I will ask that you stay still while I take a first deep whiff of my future mate.”
What?! Your mind screeched. Your body, meanwhile, went still. Just like he asked.
“Ma- what?” Your tone dried breathless. “We’re not- I’m not-”
Your words got stuck in your throat when the werewolf breached your personal space and bent down to drag the tip of his nose against your neck.
A shiver rocked you, but a solid arm wrapped around you in a flash, steading you. Or maybe holding you in place, so you wouldn’t dare inch away from him. His incredible warmth engulfed you like a weighted blanket - a layer of comfort hidden deep beneath the scary sense of constriction and suffocation.
He smelled of pine and burnt wood and a heady note you couldn’t describe as anything other than masculine.
“Absolutely delicious.” He hummed appreciatively, leaning back with visible reluctance.
“I’m not your mate,” you managed to blurt out, looking around in panic in hope that someone would come to your aid.
“Of course not.” He smiled, but it wasn’t reassuring at all. “Not until I have you writhing on my knot and bite you.”
The visual of it had you whimpering in fear; your eyes stung with tears that threatened to spill out. He had you caged out in the open of the club, publicly; you were sure your discomfort and trembling were visible to others; yet no one came to help you. Were they scared of the huge werewolf, or maybe they just didn’t care?
“No, I meant that I won’t-” your nervous explanation died on your tongue the second his hand snapped your way.
His large hand cupped your chin; surprisingly gentle, even in its firm hold. However, the long claws protruding from his fingers, grazing the delicate skin of your cheeks, were far from non-threatening.
Shockingly, your body responded in contrast to your mind’s anxious thoughts. As the werewolf’s claws dug into your soft cheeks, your nipples hardened into stiff peaks.
“You will.” Came his calm, unyielding decision.
He yanked your face up, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes and rely your weight to be supported by his hold alone. Starking blue eyes stared down at you, the rim around the irises glowing a silvery moon.
Then there was that grin again - sinister and teasing, with a flash of teeth (which made your skin prickle in fear of the vicious bite mauling your flesh).
“Scaretale promises its patrons realization of their deepest desire.” He said and you felt dread building in your chest with a silent scream. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, bunny. It’s the monsters that get the privilege of having their desires met. Sweet humans are the prey that gets to fulfill our demands.”
Your hope shattered into a million pieces. Or was it your heart that broke for yourself and the love you were dreaming of finding. Tears welled up in your eyes as the heavy reality of entering a nightmare settled in.
“Aww, why the tears, sweet bunny?” He cooed at you, with the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear trickling down your cheek.
“Because I didn’t want this,” your meek voice barely made it past your lips.
“I would perhaps believe you, if your nipples weren’t poking right through your pretty dress,” he chuckled. “Or-” he leaned closer, lips brushing the corner of your mouth- “if I didn’t smell your pussy priming itself for me.”
A flush of heat scorched your cheeks. You weren’t paying much attention to that part of your body, too lost in the anxious wailing of your mind, but as he mentioned your core your focus shifted to the pulse between your thighs. You weren’t wet, not exactly. But you felt that warmth and tingling; the growing interest your body had in the werewolf’s brutal ways.
“Will you let me go? Afterwards?” You asked, sniffling quietly.
A part of you wondered, if you had any chance fighting him off, but logic itself made that calculation quick. There was no way you would manage to slip away from his grip, without him allowing you to. So as bitter and numbing it was to accept, you knew you had to give in, to at least protect yourself from too much damage.
A frown marred his handsome face for a second, before it relaxed into that easy charm he first greeted you with.
“There’s no afterwards. There’s only forever.” He tenderly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Werewolves mate for life, bunny.”
Your crushed heart gave a pang, a reawakening jolt.
Didn’t you want someone to call you theirs forever? To own you?
Scaretale gave you that wish, in its own very twisted, cruel way.
“But I don’t even know your name.” Your hands twisted in the fabric of his sweater; half of your mind still considered trying to fight the monster off.
“Steve,” he grinned. He released your chin to run his fingers down your neck and then to the back of your head. “You can tell me yours, or I can keep calling you bunny.” He gripped a fistful of your hair and nipped your earlobe with his teeth.
“Though, I admit, I’m a sentimental man and I’d like to groan your name when I break your holes.”
You made a pitiful sound of protest, which didn’t get a chance to really resound as Steve’s mouth claimed yours. Like with the way he moved and touched, his kiss spoke of the wild beast that ruled him. He wasn’t just kissing you, he was devouring. Conquering.
And you melted into it. Your body became pliant and aroused.
He tapped your swollen lips with a sharp claw, once again asking for your name. You whispered it and as your mouth parted to sound the word, Steve slipped a finger into your warm cavern. Tip of his claw teased at your tongue, causing you to stiffen in fear. Suddenly, there was pressure on the flat of your tongue as his thick finger settled on it and massaged; but there was no slice of claw anymore.
Steve withdrew his finger, but the grip of his other hand on the nape of your neck tightened. He pushed you in front of him and led you deeper into the club’s depths. In time, lights seemed to dim and the main room divided into three corridors.
The left and right corridors were shrouded in darkness, your human eyes couldn’t see any path other than the abyss. The middle corridor was doused in glow - soft, magical, luring.
Steve turned left and you felt yourself shiver as darkness engulfed you. He didn’t seem to have any problem in navigating the eternal, starless night that filled the tunnel. Finally, you reached the end, marked by the outline of an ornate door. The markings lit up as Steve’s hand touched the frame.
When he pushed you through it, you stumbled into a bedroom. A cozy looking, not too big bedroom, with a massive, wood frame bed taking most of the space. The place didn’t look like a fancy hotel room, nor like a bedroom that could match Scaretale’s interior. No, this place was personal and lived in. It was someone’s home.
A home that smelled of pine, burnt wood and musk.
You turned around, glancing at the door now closed behind Steve’s back. They didn’t look anything like the ones you stepped through, but like a normal door in what could be a cabin in the woods.
An intricate marking glowed on the upper beam of the frame, suddenly igniting in flame that burnt all the magic out. Leaving only a reminder of the portal that was activated, but now closed permanently.
You had no way back to the Scaretale. Or your home.
“Steve-” you took a tentative step back as your gaze returned to him.
“Strip.” He ordered, taking off his own sweater in one, swift move.
“P-please…” you felt the sting of tears again, even as your walls pulsed at the sight of Steve’s half naked, impressive body.
His skin was fair, near marble like sculpture of defined muscles. But not as bare and smooth. Thick curls of dark golden hair covered his arms, shoulders and chest, from where it trailed low across his torso in a stripe leading to…
Holy fuck, you were going to die!
His cock wasn’t just proportionate to the rest of his massive body, it was near monstrous looking in its shape - with the bulbous head angry red and shiny with pearly precum; pulsing veins that curved along his girth; large, heavy sack nestled in a crown of gold hair; and a thick, wide ring of a knot at the base that already felt impossible to push into any of your holes, much less when it inflated.
“I’m growing impatient, bunny,” Steve snarled, prowling towards you. “I can rip it off of you, but I don’t know if it’s a dress you really like, so I don’t want to make you sad by ruining it.”
“Why don’t you care about making me sad by ruining me?” You snapped, but it lacked viciousness. Partly because of fear, partly because you were breathless with unexpected need.
You had nowhere else to run when the back of your legs hit the bedframe and Steve loomed over you.
“Trust me, bunny,” he emitted a low growl, “when I ruin your holes, you’ll feel nothing but delirious pleasure and happiness.”
He didn’t give you a second chance to undress. With two harsh moves he ripped the fabric apart, his claws so sharp they easily sliced through. He held your gaze as he hooked one pointy talon beneath the lace of your panties.
“Such beautiful eyes,” he murmured, slowly dragging his claw back and forth. “That fear and arousal. Can’t wait to see it as you struggle to take my cock.”
A single snick and your panties were ripped away and tossed to the side. Then Steve’s hand was curling on your shoulder and pushing you down.
“On your knees, bunny. And open your mouth wide.”
You obeyed, feeling yourself shiver as your face found itself at level with his hard dick. Your fingers trembled against your thighs; the need to slide them between your folds growing stronger than the instinct to push the predator away.
“It won’t fit,” you stared wide-eyed at the cock bobbing in front of you.
“It sure won’t,” Steve chuckled, cupping your face in his big palms. “But you’re still going to take it. Now, tongue out.”
A whine shrilled in your throat when the wide crown stretched your lips and pushed deep inside. The more of him was forced forward, the wider your mouth had to open and the less room to breathe was left. A cry for mercy became only a garbled pitch as Steve held your head in place and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
Tears streamed down, your drool flooded out as he slowly withdrew. Your spit was sticking to the curve of his dick, strings of saliva breaking and splashing on your chin.
When he surged forward again, your hands flew to his thick, hairy thighs. But there was no way of stopping him from taking you as he wished. It terrified you.
It also made your pussy drip.
“That’s all sweet, bunny,” Steve groaned, feeling your tongue moving against him helplessly, your throat constricting in resistance as he speared your mouth.
“But I need more from my little bitch!” He snarled and abruptly stepped forward.
You were pushed backwards, forced to change your position from kneeling to landing on your butt. Your back hit the sturdy frame of the bed; your legs spread wide, knees pressed to your chest.
Steve had your head tipped back, hands holding you in place as he fucked your face straight from above.
With your mouth and throat in one line, he could force his cock deeper. His balls were hitting your drool-covered chin over and over again. Your choking and obscene wet sounds mixed with Steve’s lewd groans of pleasure.
“That’s it!” He moaned, dipping in and out of your throat. “Taking your mate’s cock like a good little bitch and enjoying it. I can smell it, you know.”
You wouldn’t be able to protest, even if you wanted to deny his nasty claim. The worst, however, was that Steve was right. You were spread open, dripping slick down your buttocks; your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for that monstrous cock.
You coughed and spluttered when Steve pulled out, a wheezing sob leaving your sore mouth. Steve slapped his wet cock against your cheek, then rubbed it all over your face, smearing your own spit and his pre-cum all over you. He barked at you to keep your pretty mouth open, then stuffed it with his heavy sack. Well, as much of it as he could fit in.
“Suck a little, bunny,” his instruction came out breathy, betraying how affected he was by the whole ordeal. “I know they’re a mouthful, but they’re just full of all the cum I’m going to fill you with.”
Your cunt spasmed and you let out a garbled moan.
Finally, another reprieve for much needed air was granted. Steve took half a step back, breathing heavily as he looked down at your messy, shivering form at his feet. Dark hunger flashed in his eyes and you weren’t sure, if it was only desire, or something more dangerous.
He picked you up so easily, lifting you into his arms with no strain and tossing you onto the bed. Instinctively, you squirmed up the mattress, seeking escape. Steve followed in that unrushed, steady prowl; like a predator, who already knew his prey was his to devour.
He spread your legs. You stilled, feeling tips of his claws pressing into your skin.
“My, my, bunny,” he licked his lips, “what a pretty, soaked cunt you have.”
Steve swiped his fingers higher. You squeaked when he lightly brushed your puffed, glistening folds with his claws. It made him grin wolfishly and he pressed a little harder.
“All the better to take all of your mate’s cock,” not easing his pressure on your core, Steve stretched above you.
Your thighs stayed parted wide for him, allowing him to brace the weight of his body on one arm placed next to you, while he settled on top of you.
“What tempting, hard nipples you have,” he continued his twisted fairy tale, his voice a deep, haunting caress.
“All the better to suck on and torment,” Steve closed his mouth around one peak and sucked, at the same time flicking his tongue over it.
Your back arched. Your arms encircled his back, fingers digging into the steel muscles as you held on. When his mouth moved to your other breast, one of your hands weaved into his hair. Your tugging evoked a growly rumble that reverberated against your sensitive nipple.
Steve trailed open mouth kisses up your chest and along your neck, grazing the dip over your pulse with his sharp teeth. You squirmed, a new surge of adrenaline quickening your blood flow as you remembered his promise about the bite.
When he took your mouth, it was with less vehemence than the first kiss. He coaxed your lips open and teased your tongue with his own. The fingers splayed over your pussy kept steadily moving, smearing your slick all over.
“What a sweet mouth you have,” he murmured, nipping your bottom lip. “And we already know what can be done with it.”
His blue eyes sparked as your breath hitched, when he spread your folds and dipped his fingers deeper. The fear of pain from the claws had you reacting first, though there was nothing to hurt you. He retracted them.
“You’re fucking dripping, bunny.” Steve groaned in satisfaction. “So much that I bet it trickled to your dirty rosebud, too.”
He didn’t wait for your confirmation, just slid a single digit lower, where he found exactly what he predicted. You strained against him; one of your hands shot down between your bodies to clutch at his wrist. But Steve didn’t budge, pressing his finger against your tight rim, which was slick with your juices.
“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Why are you fighting so hard, bunny? Afraid it’s going to hurt? Or that you will cum from having your ass played with, like a weak, needy bitch?”
He circled and pressed, circled and pressed, driving you mad with sensations you couldn’t untangle.
“I promise you, my lovely bunny,” though he removed his finger from between your asscheeks, there was nothing reassuring in the dark promise he vowed against your lips- “You will cum from anything I do to your sweet body. Because you are my little bitch.”
“And it’s time that I claim what’s mine!” His snarl combined with your cry as Steve suddenly sat back and flipped you onto your stomach.
He yanked your hips up, making you kneel on the mattress. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, pressing it into the sheets. You felt pinpricks of claws grazing your skull.
Steve settled behind you, coarse hair on his thighs tickling your delicate skin. His cock spread your swollen folds and he rocked his hips, rubbing the whole length of him against you, soaking himself in your slick. He was already wet with your saliva, but considering his size you didn’t mind him adding more lubrication.
“Ungh!” You keened when he pressed into your hole. “Too big! Steve, it’s too-”
Your toes curled, feet kicking helplessly against the mattress, as Steve ignored your pleas and inched forward.
At least he was taking it slow. But maybe slow was more tortuous than if he broke you on one, single thrust.
His hand on your head pressed harder when your body jerked in an instinctive attempt to scramble away. The other hand landed on your ass with a hard slap.
It made you clench around him, causing a new kind of ripple of pleasurable pain.
He was stretching you so much, so close to the edge of ripping pain. But for the most part it was igniting a delirious ecstasy, confusing you and burning away any protests. Your pussy wasn’t used to sensations like that, yet she welcomed it with creamy joy.
“There you go, bunny.” Steve encouraged you, delighted in the way you moaned obscenely when he was halfway in and the head of his cock nudged that special spot.
To reward you, he withdrew and slid back in, once again teasing that point. And again. And again. Until your thighs were shaking and your wetness was dripping onto the sheets.
“Almost there, huh?” He chuckled, feeling your walls fluttering. “Well then-”
He withdrew in the same steady pace, only to ram the whole length of him in one stroke on the next thrust.
You screamed, but even as the pain short-circuited your consciousness for a split of a second, your pussy spasmed.
Steve stayed buried to the hilt, relishing in your orgasm milking his cock. He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside, before starting a brutal rhythm. He fucked you like the animalistic monster that he was - with unparalleled hunger, incessant need, and no regard for your discomfort.
“Good girl, bunny.” He draped his weight over you, hot breath fanning your cheek. “Such a good bitch for your mate.”
He licked a wet line along your jaw, then down to the crook of your neck. Your mewling protest was ignored as Steve scraped his teeth over the spot he was going to mark.
“Do you feel it swelling?” He teased. “Do you feel it spreading you wider each time I drive into your tiny pussy? My knot ’s about to pop, bunny. And when it does, I’m going to fill you so much. It’s going to lock your cunt in place, so that you have no other choice, but to take every fucking load.”
“Until it feels like your belly is too heavy. Like you’re about to burst at the seams.” His thrust became harsher, jerky and - just like he said - each stretching you with the growing knot. “Like your cunt aches from taking too much.”
“And you will take it all, bunny. You know why?” Steve’s teeth dipped into your skin, not yet breaking, but threatening. “Yeah, you do. You know why. Say it!”
He slapped your ass when you didn’t reply, only moaned helplessly..
“Say it!” He spanked you again.
“Because I’m your little bitch!” You cried out, face half buried into the sheets and tears streaking down.
Beast’s teeth sunk into your skin, breaking it and drawing a flow of blood. His jaw locked in, just like his cock did in your pussy. Inflated knot, spreading you wider than ever before, shifted your channel so that the crown of Steve’s cock rested right against your cervix. And he bathed it in his seed.
White haze filled your brain as the pinnacle of pleasure and zap of pure pain switched off your consciousness.
When you groggily reconnected with bits of reality, your body was curled on its side. Steve’s body was aligned with yours; his cock still nestled deep inside of you. His arms were holding you tight, providing enough warmth for you to realize the tremors rocking you weren’t from cold, but the aftershocks from an orgasm.
Though you weren’t sure if it was still the one his knot ignited, or if the werewolf coaxed another climax out of you while you were unconscious.
You wouldn’t put it past him.
“Steve-” you croaked out.
“I’ve got you, bunny.” He tenderly kissed your shoulder. “I’ve got you and I always will. Your ever after, mate.”
#scaretale universe#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers smut#werewolf!steve rogers#chris evans smut#all the better to eat you
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Astro Notes : Short N Sweet - The power lilith holds <3
Lilith in the 1st - Very strong personalities. Gifted in using the eyes to seduce others. Magnetic. Can fight the demons off of you so please be weary of getting to close if you don't want them to see what hides beneath the surface. There angelic, believe it or not. They're not here to see the world as you see it, they have a taboo personality, yes, but its also because they must learn how to live for themselves and not for anyone else.
Lilith in the 2nd - Cash cow. Can basically get any man to give them what they want. They have to be comfortable in getting under peoples skin, because they can trigger people with how they talk. Insensitive? Not exactly. Just doesn't budge and cares to be 'nice'.
Lilith in the 3rd - Creative freaks. Can use the mind in a million ways, but they still seek out one thing that works for them as they are very passionate people and whatever keeps their attention the most they'll go at it forever. They are use to the attention from people since primary school. So they like to hide a lot. They have a weird mind and they don't care to share it with too many people. If they ever considered writing, they could make some pretty interesting stuff. Sibling rivalries are a thing here.
Lilith in the 4th - Tumulous relationships with family & friends. It's because they're the outcast of the group. I mean, they know a lot and they can't stand for nothing but the truth. But sometimes the truth kills, even when they don't mean for it to be. Can be a hard knock life but they make it worth something. They're no angel, just the universe in the flesh. <3
Lilith in the 5th - Captivating presence. Lovely auras, and amazing bodies. Could be good at dancing. Could be a lil promiscuous. Could be a little dangerous. You never know. Secretive/private about their affairs.. But the stories they have I promise you its like reading a novel. Naturally sensual & can't get enough of them, even if you tried ;)
Lilith in the 6th - Goes hard for groups that aren't seen enough. Can have jealous coworkers or people who want to annoy them and get them out of character. Could also have sensual experiences with co workers. Demands compensation. Could be extremely well liked or hated no in between.
Lilith in the 7th - Spicy individuals. People love to hate them. Could have bisexual allegations from time to time. Most people like to be around them but despise them after a while. Sweet as a pie though, most people allow the rumors to get to them but usually these people are naturally sweet and empathetic. Popular loners.
Lilith in the 8th - Strong personalities. Capable of seeing beyond the veil. Has issues with society due to their daring nature but they do come out ready and swinging. Hypnotic presence. Can heal as much as they can poison, so be careful wit em ;)
Lilith in the 9th - Very beautiful spirits who are the epitome of being carefree. The universe takes them wherever their hearts want to go, and the journey is always something that last a life time. Being connected to someone with this placement could give you the feelings of something amazing. Always hold their hand tight because once their gone its over.
Lilith in the 10th - Dreamy auras. Have a knack for the public and the audience can feel their raw energy. Have haters from all area codes, this just makes them more confident. They know how to appease society well, and they can take on roles that others are too afraid to. This is great placement for lilith to be in.
Lilith in the 11th - Could had to fight to keep their self esteem in check. Due to being outcasted alot, they could of been the scapegoat for a lot of reasons that didn't pertain to them much. With time, they learn to accept that their energy isn't for anyone, and that their value is more than what you can define it. Helpful sweethearts who just wants to be around community that gets them.
Lilith in the 12th - The dream world is a nightmare. My apologies to y'all cause I'm suppose to start it off a little sweet. But this is placement of a witch/warlock. You guys have many gifts that go past the ordinary. And you more than likely come up with some ish down the line. There is a time where you will undergo a lot of spiritual refinement to keep your head going. Don't be afraid of what shows up, it might teach you something!
#im so sorry to lilith in the 12th#astrology thoughts#astrology theories#thoughts#love#astrology#astrology observations#tropical astrology#astro observations#spirituality#astro knowledge#short n sweet
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hi!!! could you write aaron x bau! reader, where jack accidentally finds a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom or somewhere in a drawer before reader gets a chance to tell aaron)))🫶🏻
tells
omg omg i could cry 🫶🏻🥹 cw; pregnant bau!reader, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a ton of fluff <3 wc; 1k
"Hi sweetheart."
Aaron's eyes rose as you entered his office, before returning to the files laid atop his desktop, a paper in his right hand. His stare had lingered momentarily, so he noticed the bag in your hand. "Heading out?"
"Yup, gotta pick up Jack." You replied, hoping you sounded somewhat normal, given your current circumstances. You felt as if your voice was borderline squeaky, in that attempt to remain normal, while also resisting the urge to bounce on your toes. "You coming with?"
On another note, you were so incredibly thankful to be leaving early; overwhelmed with nausea, back pain, fatigue. Ginger ale had been within arm's reach all day, an achingly long day. Laying in bed had never sounded more appealing.
"No, I wish I could. There's a few consults I need to look over before tomorrow. It shouldn't take too long, though." He got up, inching towards you, "I can, however, spare some time for you."
Your nose scrunched in amusement, leaning up to peck his lips, "You're too good to me."
He chased your lips, murmuring into the kiss with a soft smirk and teasing you right back, "I do try."
After the two of you pulled away (and a whistle echoed outside from a passing Derek Morgan), you toyed with his tie, smoothing it cleanly against his torso. "Don't stay too late, okay?"
"I won't." Aaron kissed you once, twice more before retreating back to his desk. He held onto your hand for as long as possible, causing it to fall gracefully to your side. "I'll be home before dinner, I promise."
Instead of leaving, all you could do was stand there; staring at him, completely giddy. The secret you held, it made you feel a whole new kind of love when you looked at him. The father of your unborn child, the perfect addition to your family. A new love you had created together.
Aaron's gaze lifted, catching you ogling him, a confused smile forming on his face. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." You shrugged, forcing your feet towards the door. "I'll see you at home."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, playfully. He absolutely didn't buy it. "Okay, drive safe."
-
"Hi." Jack greeted, climbing into the backseat and shutting the door behind him. He struggled the smallest amount, his backpack weighing him down.
"Hey Jackers," You twisted behind, offering a warm smile, "have a good day?"
"Yeah." He verified, and left it at that. He simply settled in, buckling up.
While you had thought you were the one being strange, he was definitely more so. As you took the route home, he remained quiet in the back, rather than being his usual talkative, wanting-to-tell-you-everything-about-his-day self. You peered at him in the rearview, observing him.
He didn't look pale, so hopefully he wasn't coming down with something. He didn't seem upset - his eyebrows always pinched together in worry when he was. Even this morning during breakfast for instance, he seemed far away, off in his own world. If you didn't know any better, he looked on edge, but in a jittery, seemingly excited way. Antsy, and oddly familiar.
"You okay?"
Jack nodded, keeping his eyes out the window. His absorbed expression indicated the gears continuing to turn in his mind.
"Did something happen today? You're awfully quiet."
"I have a question."
You stopped the car, arriving home, turning around in your seat again to fully look at him. "You know you can ask me anything. Whatever's on your mind, nothing's off limit."
His eyes lit up, hopeful yet quizzical. He quietly and timidly asked, "Am I getting a baby brother or sister?"
You blinked at him, surprised, as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. But you couldn't stop the small smile tugging its way onto your face. Not only because you were happy, of course, but you also didn't want him thinking he had done something wrong. "What makes you ask that?"
"I wasn't snooping, I promise. I went into your bathroom to look for some floss - Dad said I could, said it was in the top left drawer - and I saw it, it said pregnant. But I didn't mean to see, I swear."
Your expression softened sweetly, a gentle laugh escaping you too, "It's okay buddy, that's completely on me. I didn't do a very good job of concealing it at all."
An adorable, boyish smile pulled at his lips, the words leaving him shyly. He could infer the answer, but he needed the actual confirmation. "So... am I?"
After a moment's silence, letting the suspense linger, you confirmed, your heart bursting as you did. "You are."
"Yes!" He nearly shouted, immediately unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing his arms around you, as much as he could with the obstacle of the driver's seat. His arms mainly reached around your neck.
You laughed gleefully, your hands raising to his arms, squeezing them gently - a makeshift hug for the meantime. Tears dared to spill down your cheeks, overwhelmed with emotion.
He released the embrace, sobering for a moment and the realization beginning to fully set in. "I'm really getting a sister?"
"It could be a boy too." You arched a brow, grinning.
"Yeah," he matched your smile, buzzing with happiness. "And I'd love that too. But, I think it's gonna be a girl."
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see." You shrugged coyly, "It's still quite early, so we won't be able to find out for a couple weeks."
"Weeks?" He whined painfully, but it faded as fast as it had appeared. "I'm so excited. I can't wait."
"You wanna know something else?" He nodded profusely. "You're the only one who knows."
Jack's eyes brightened more if it were possible, in both exhilaration and shock. "Seriously?!"
For the meantime, it was a special secret, shared just between the two of you. You could've sobbed right there, between his genuine sweetness and excitement. And the hormones.
Regardless, he was going to be the best big brother.
"Dad doesn't know?"
"Not yet. I was brainstorming how to tell him, how to tell you, but you were just too quick for me." You flashed him a teasing grin. "That means you have to help me come up with a fun way to tell him, and quick, because I think he's onto me. Deal?"
Jack held out his pinky, interlocking it with yours. "Deal."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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I wanna be yours
Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader
Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.
Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.
Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.
Genres: angst, smut, fluff
Words count: 10,991
Masterlist
This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!
Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)
A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.
It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.
Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.
That means he's bored all the time.
So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.
That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.
“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”
The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.
Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.
There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.
As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.
“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.
He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.
“It's okay”, you mumble.
You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.
“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.
You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.
“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.
“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.
You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?
This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.
“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”
“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.
You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.
“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.
You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.
—
You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.
You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.
You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.
Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.
Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.
You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.
You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.
“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.
You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.
“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”
“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”
“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.
“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”
No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.
What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.
“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.
You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.
“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.
“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.
“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.
“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"
Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.
“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.
His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?
You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.
He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.
“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.
This was easier than he thought.
—
“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.
“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.
“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.
“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”
Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.
“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.
“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”
You grin.
“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”
Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.
He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.
You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.
“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”
You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.
The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.
“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.
“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.
“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.
“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.
You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.
“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.
“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”
“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.
“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”
“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”
You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.
“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.
Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.
“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.
“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”
Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.
“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.
He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.
After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.
You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.
“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.
He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.
“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?
Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.
“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.
He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.
“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?
He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.
“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.
“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?
“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.
“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.
“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.
Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.
“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.
“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.
“Yeah, got it, just hurry”
Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.
When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.
You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.
“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.
You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.
He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.
—
Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.
Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.
This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.
He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.
“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.
“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.
You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.
After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.
The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.
You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.
You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.
“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.
“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.
“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.
“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.
“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?
The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.
His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.
“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”
“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.
“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.
“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.
“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.
“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?
He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.
He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.
You feel your face red.
“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”
He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.
He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.
“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?
You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.
You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.
Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.
“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.
“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.
Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.
“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.
“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.
“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”
Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.
“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.
Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.
Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.
“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.
You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.
Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.
“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.
“I don't wanna”, you tell him.
“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.
“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.
“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.
You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.
“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.
“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.
“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.
“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”
“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.
The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.
“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”
“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.
“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”
You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.
“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.
“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.
“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.
“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.
“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.
“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.
“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”
“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.
“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.
“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.
He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.
Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.
“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.
“Like what?” You ask, curiously.
“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”
—
Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.
It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.
Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.
“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.
“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.
When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.
“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.
“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.
You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.
“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.
Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.
“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.
“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.
He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.
In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.
She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.
“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”
“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”
He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.
“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.
You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.
“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.
There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?
After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.
He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.
He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.
He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.
He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.
He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?
“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.
“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.
It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?
You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.
He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.
“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.
“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”
Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.
“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”
Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.
“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”
You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.
Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.
He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.
“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.
“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.
His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.
He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.
“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.
“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”
“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.
“Fuck”, you whine.
His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.
“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.
Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.
Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.
“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.
He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.
You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.
“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.
“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.
You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.
“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?
“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”
He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.
“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.
Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.
“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”
You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.
“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.
“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.
He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.
It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.
Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.
You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.
When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.
“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.
“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”
For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.
You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.
You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.
The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.
Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.
He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.
“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”
“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”
“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.
“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”
He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.
“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.
—
“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.
“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.
“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.
You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.
“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”
He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.
Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.
After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.
The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.
You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.
“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.
“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?
“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”
“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.
“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?
“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.
“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.
“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.
You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?
You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.
The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.
You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.
“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.
“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.
You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.
You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.
“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.
You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.
“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?
“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.
“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.
“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.
“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.
It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?
You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.
“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.
“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.
It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.
It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.
After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.
Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.
“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.
You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.
“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.
“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.
“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.
“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.
“I don't want to hear it”, you say.
“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.
“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”
Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.
You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.
Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.
He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.
He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.
“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”
“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”
His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.
So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.
“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.
“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”
She huffs, crossing her arms.
“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”
“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”
Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.
“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’
“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”
“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”
“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”
Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.
“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.
“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”
Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.
Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.
He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.
Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.
“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.
“Can you come down for a bit?”
You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.
You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.
You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.
You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.
“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.
“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.
“I'm not well either”, he says.
You sigh.
“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.
“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.
“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?
—
You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.
Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.
He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.
You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.
He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.
“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.
Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.
“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”
“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.
“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.
“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.
“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.
“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.
“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”
You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.
“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.
“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.
“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”
You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.
Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.
You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.
The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.
When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.
You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.
“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”
He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.
“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.
“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”
You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.
“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.
“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.
“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.
He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.
“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”
You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.
“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.
“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.
“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.
“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.
You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.
“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.
Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.
“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.
“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.
You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.
A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
#stray kids#stray kids bangchan#skz bangchan#bangchan imagines#bangchan#skz bang chan#skz x you#bangchan x y/n#bangchan smut#bangchan x you#bangchan fluff#skz#bangchan x reader#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#stray kids scenarios#skz x y/n#skz smut
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ALWAYS. kenji sato x reader
he’ll always come back to you.
cw. kenji makes a suggestive joke because lets be real he’s a loser, talk of bruises, patching up wounds, kenji loves you, not proofreaded and shorter than usual, excessive use of the word “sweetheart”
notes. this was not the hurt/comfort i promised… rather, it’s more fluffy than hurtful? nevertheless it’s here, and i hope you enjoy!
every tear you shed is a burning cigarette stubbing itself on kenji’s skin; it ached more than the ice you were applying on his skin. for once, kenji was silent. he watched quietly as you patched him up, yet again, after one of his many nights as ultraman. this particular fight messed him up bad, and with all the bruises that littered his body, he knew he would be m.i.a for a while. you knew, too, if the tears running down your cheeks couldn’t attest to that enough. kenji didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to react—before you, he had no one to cry over him when he got hurt. it was foreign. he would’ve loved the attention, but he made you cry. kenji couldn’t stomach it.
“baby—”
“no, don’t, don’t speak.” you sniffled, worried that he’d hurt himself even more. his cheek was already swollen enough. you saw how hard he was hit, and it scared you a little too much this time. this fight pushed you to the edge, and it was evident. you couldn’t resist the sob that tore its way out of your throat as kenji’s eyes only softened even more at your sorry state. you were so worried. you called mina over this time, asking the assistant to get you more ice. “mina says this was your roughest fight in a while.” you say, broken. kenji tries to laugh it off, tries to put a smile on your face, “well, i came home to you, didn’t i?”
—he ends up making your frown deeper. your lips quiver, tears still running down your cheeks as you reply, “but what if you didn’t?”
it’s bothered you; what would happen if he didn’t come home? if you saw him fall on live television? if he left his side of the bed cold?
what would happen in a world without your kenji?
his face hardened, tone firm as he called you “sweetheart.”
you bursted into tears, big fat waterfalls falling down your cheeks—and you thought you were done crying—you’re not. sweetheart, he called you, you were his sweetheart. he only called you that when he wanted to make a point, wanted to get something in your head. “sweetheart.” kenji repeated, moving his already sore arm to try and caress your cheek. you decline, you don’t want him to be in pain, but he persists. he hisses, but he feels your skin on his palm and that’s enough to quell the pain. “sweetheart…” you hear kenji’s voice break, and you hiccup, placing your own hand above his own. “i’m here. i’m here right now.” his voice does not break, nor does he.
you place your free hand over his cheek, and he takes it into his other hand and places it on his chest—where his heart is. “and i’m living. i’m breathing; my heart’s beating, baby,” ironically, even though he’s had more ice on his body than normal, he feels warm. you can’t help yourself, you lean in, and you hear his heart beat. it’s beating, he’s alive, he’s alive, your kenji’s alive,
that’s all that matters.
“you know i’ll always, always, come home to you.” he kisses the top of your head, and you pull away and give him a flick inbetween his eyes. he jolts in surprise. “that’s for scaring me to death!” you yell, he shrinks—he always did look like a beaten up puppy whenever you had to scold him. you flick the same spot again, “that’s for getting yourself hurt too much!” then again. “that’s for having no sense of self preservation! we haven’t even brushed up on your other issues!”
“okay, first, ow—“ he rubs his forehead, trying to ease the pain. “second, how do you know i have other issues?” he asked, pointedly, and you deadpan. “are you serious? look at you.”
“okay, third, ow?” he raises his hands in surrender, but then he flinches because he may have raised his left arm a little too fast and now it aches. you spring to action, immediately settljng both hands down. you press an ice pack to his shoulders once more as you fawn over him, and kenji has whiplash from how fast you switch up. “i’m gonna be fine—“ the look you give him has him shutting up immediately. “you’re gonna be fine, but you’re definitely not now. infact, you look like you’re not even gonna last another round with—“
“oh, you know i always last another round with you.”
“oh my god, please shut the fuck up—“
kenji’s eyes crinkle, sparkling as they take in your face. you look so done with him all the time, but kenji knows that you’re never going to be done with him. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you sport that cute little pout of yours, and he has to admit; he loves being doted on. he’s not used to you, but he’s not used to you which makes it all the more exciting. you’re full of surprises, and he can’t wait for each one. the side of his mouth quirks up when you look at him again, trying not to laugh because he knows that you know that his joke was really fucking clever.
you’re so adorable, and kenji can’t resist you at all. he knows you can’t either.
when your lips find eachother, they fit together like puzzle pieces.
he whispers against your lips, tired eyes, once again, a bit too tempting for your liking—“sorry for making you cry, sweetheart.” you wave it off, at first, but kenji doesn’t even let you. “no, no, i’m sorry. can’t handle seeing you cry, not at all. especially if i’m the cause; so sorry, baby. i’ll be more careful next time.” he reassured, and you pressed your foreheads together, humming. “i mean it. i’ll always come back to you, ‘kay?”
“always?” you repeat.
kenji looks at you through hooded eyes, and you grin lazily—you want to speak, but he kisses you before you can. you wish you were surprised; you’re used to him using his lips to shut you up, because you always go silent. he tilts his head, pretending to mull over it for a bit, and a stern look from you has the wheels in his head suddenly turning. he looks at you again, taking the back of your wrist and pressing his lips on it, a silent promise; an oath.
“always, sweetheart. i’ll always come home to you.”
if kenji from a couple years ago saw this happening in real time, he’d scoff and say that wasn’t him. but it is him, and it is the him only you have.
the one that will always come back.
#kenji sato#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x reader#ultraman#ultraman rising#ken sato#ultraman 2024#ultraman rising x reader
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As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.
This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!
ID in ALT text!
Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.
“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.
Begin Transcript:
A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates
While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,
The true source is surprisingly Human.
Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn
The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…
But one thing is Certain:
Natural forces do not change easily.
Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects
by His command
A violent injection of pure elemental magic
Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…
These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,
However….
… new powers are a dangerous toy.
While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”
First formed, they are still elements;
Torrential, Aimless,
Incapable of coherent thought or rules
-but with time, coherence returns to the individual
Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.
The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…
First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”
Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable
The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.
The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.
Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.
In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.
Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.
If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.
Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.
When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:
Raw: Hell, contained
Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas
Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas
Stabilized: anywhere people go
Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!
They tend to provide free protection to keep their home
Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;
One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.
Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;
This seems especially true near ministry placements.
Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal
Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.
Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,
They don’t always like this however (see other guide).
The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth
However, there are two channels through which they serve.
1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic
Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live
2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.
Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;
Like the creation of a ghoul,
Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature
The force of such pull is incredible,
A disorientating test of will so great…
…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.
This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;
But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.
Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;
Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.
Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.
They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.
Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.
Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.
Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract
Will have dire consequences.
Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.
Tiers:
Rarity of an element does not equal strength.
The break down is as follows:
Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.
Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.
Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.
Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.
Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.
S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.
End transcript.
#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost band#nameless ghouls#papa copia#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#sodo ghoul#rain ghoul#phantom ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#mountain ghoul#swiss ghoul#aurora ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#cirrus ghoulette#papa terzo#papa emeritus iii#omega ghoul#cardinal primo#cardinal secondo#papa nihil#sister imperator#ghoul guide#comic#long post#jhopoouughhghhhhoughh. i'm so tired. and there's still gonne be one more. lol HELP!#aether ghoul
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rafayel's nsfw alphabet
➵ pairing: rafayel x female!reader
➵ word count: 3.3k
➵ genre: nsfw
➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging, blindfolding, handcuffs, overstimulation, somnophilia, praise kink, bondage.
➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.
➵ xavier's ver. | zayne’s ver.
➵ masterlist (requests are open)
horrorhot-line © 2024. all rights reserved.
notes: this one's for you @jaiden-zhou, i was gonna take a break and post these later, but your reblog asking for rafayel and zayne's version meant i got to work right away. hope you enjoy <3333
credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template
➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵
➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) he loves talking after sex. most would get tired after the extracurricular activities, you included, but not rafayel. he loves picking your brain about anything and everything. still semi inside you, lazily thrusting into you as he empties the last of his cum inside you, trailing kisses across your face as he asks you where you'd want to go if the two of you went travelling. he won't admit it, ever- but he does it because he's realised it's when you're the most honest, spent and cheeks still flushed after your orgasms, still delirious after he's fucked the living daylights out of you. he will also never admit, he doesn't want to fall asleep and running his mouth makes sure of that, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him again. "what do you think about the city of love? i'd love to fuck you in paris."
➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he adores your body, you know this, but his absolute favourite part of you is your eyes. no matter how many lifetimes he's spent waiting for you, your eyes are always the same, soft, shining and focused only on him. he loves fucking you, starting off slow as his pelvis collides with your clit and has you seeing stars, he loves the way your gaze focuses on him when he's thrusting into you, pulling out ever so slightly only to snap his hips back into yours. and fuck, does he love the way he gets to watch your eyes roll back. his favourite part about himself is his dick, pretty self-explanatory. he loves the way you tell him his cock is perfect as he fucks into you, pressing the rough of his thumb against your clit as you throw your head back. "you look so pretty like this, drooling all cause of my cock."
➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he may have asked if he could use your cum as paint once, promising he'll never let anyone else see his creation apart from you. rafayel loves shoving his cum back inside you when it leaks out, plugging you up with his fingers as he makes sure you don't waste a single drop, ignoring the way you look like absolute sin with tears of overstimulation in your eyes. though, he can't ignore the way his dick hardens again at the way you glow after you've orgasmed, thighs wet with slick and looking so inviting, "one more round? come on, i know you can cum again- do it for me."
➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) if you hadn't guessed it already, rafayel lives for validation- your validation. he'll never admit it; he doesn't want to bruise his ego by telling you how much he likes hearing you whimper and moan. he loves when he first puts his dick inside you, grabbing the hand that reaches out to place itself on his stomach as you struggle to take him in, and he raises that same hand above your head so he can plug your slick pussy with his cock. "ah, ah, ah- you wanted this, can't back out now. instead of trying to stop, why don't you tell me how good my dick feels, hm?"
➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he knows his way around, he's watched enough porn when he was researching for an art project of his. the real thing is different though, and he realises that when you're under him, spreading your legs for him, and he finds no matter how hard he tries, you're pussy is just too good. the first round is always quick, but he knows how to work his fingers and his tongue, making sure you cum more times than he can count before he's ready to go again, forcing your legs apart as he raises his top and bites down on it, watching how his dick enters you. "lost for words? why don't you start off by telling me how good i feel?"
➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) this is a hard one for him, but if he had to choose it would definitely be cow girl. the sight of you riding his dick so well, struggling to take him in, sweat lining your bodies as he grips your tit and watches the other one bounce. he loves the way you lower your chest to his after a few minutes, legs aching, letting him know he can take over. he manages to hit all your sweet spots in this position too, and there's no escape for you as he wraps his arms around you, angling his hips to fuck into you, making sure you feel his tip against your cervix. "tired already? if you wanted me to take over, my love- all you had to do was ask."
➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he knows how to be serious, but if there's a queef, he'll laugh. how can you expect him not to? that, and he likes catching you off gaurd, because when you join him, giggling at his antics, he snaps his hips into yours, setting a brutal pace that has you struggling to catch your breath. "what? you not gonna laugh, anymore? no? didn't think so."
➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's always well-groomed. always clean-shaven and there's never a stubble that gives you carpet burn, because he likes to stay on top of it. he wants you to focus on the feel of his dick inside you and nothing else when he's pounding your wet cunt. he treats his body like a temple, basically. "i wanna look good for myself. it has nothing to do with you." (it does.)
➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) rafayel acts like he doesn't care about being romantic, but he does. when he's not salty about how you make him wait, he gives you the best treatment, always eating you out first, fingering you until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you up with his cock, which he does, rubbing your clit as he rolls his hips into yours, making sure you remember the way his dick feels buried deep inside you. he always makes sure you finish, and he likes to admire the artwork in front of him one he's done, you laying flushed beneath him, lips parted, breathing heavily and still twitching. "you look so pretty when i'm through with you. hey, can i draw you like this? no? just one quick sketch, please…"
➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) you make him horny 24/7, even when you're not around. he'll be in his studio, casually painting and lounging when you pop into his head, and his mind will drift to all the times you've been underneath him. by the time you've come home to him, he's a needy mess, flushed, dick in his hand already leaking precum as he begs you to help him out because he's been edging himself for hours, waiting for you. "please, my love. i need you."
➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) what kinks does he not have? he has a huge praise kink, that's for sure. loves it when you get vocal and tell him how good he feels, how he's too deep and that it's too much, he loves watching you struggle to take him all in, slamming the last few inches in just so he can hear you sob. he's also a huge fan of overstimulation; he loves pushing you past your limits, watching you become a mess as he squeezes out another orgasm with his fingers. he's into bondage too, something about the idea of you being all tied up, looking pretty for him, helpless to what he has in store for you. he's a bit of a switch, too- he loves you taking control when you've had enough of his teasing just so he can roll you over and force you to take his dick. he also adores watching you use him, making yourself feel good with his cock. "you gonna cum, baby? feel good? who knew you'd love my dick this much?"
➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) he's a bit of an exhibitionist, reckons it comes with the job description of being an artist. so, he likes it anywhere as long as it's you. he has a list of places he'd love to dick you down at, but his favourite would be his art studio. you're his muse, what gives his paintings colour and life, and he loves spreading you across his desk, raising your hips off the table so he can snap his hips into you only to imagine the same scenario as he starts his new piece. he also loves the beach; something about being close to home, the waves around your feet and hands as he bends you over, lifting you by the arm so you're body's flush against his, calloused fingers reaching for your clit. he loves the way he can feel the water against his thighs as you throw your head back against his shoulder, and he can watch your lovely fucked out expression. "told you the sea was warm during the summer. having fun, baby?"
➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) just thinking about it gets him horny; you know this already. it doesn't matter where the two of you are, he will borrow your hole to empty his load, whining and teasing you until you give in, finding the nearest secluded place before pulling his pants down and sliding your panties to the side. you have this effect on him, he can't control himself, and he blames you for it, something he lets you know often as he fucks you from behind, grabbing your tit in one hand, arm under your shoulder and across your chest to lock you in place so you can't run, "it's all your fault for turning me on. that means it's your responsibility to help me out."
➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he calls you 'my love.' a lot- something about your heart being his. he likes calling you his, repeating the words "mine, mine, mine." as he's fucking into you before his lips latch onto yours, swallowing your moans and desperate cries. he does like to use babe when he's teasing you or being mean as payback for you making him wait, rubbing your swollen clit, grabbing the wrist that reaches out to stop him as he rolls his hips into yours, "come on babe, i know you have more left in you. cum one more time for me- yeah?"
➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he loves receiving but will never pester you for it. he'll ask, but if you say no, then so be it. when you do agree, though, he'll shove himself as deep as he can go, hissing as his tip kisses the back of your throat, running his fingers through your hair before wiping away the stray tear going down the side of your temple, smiling down at you as he reaches over to plug his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out as you choke on his dick. "don't cry, my love. save your tears for when i fill you up. not long now, i know you can do it."
➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's not slow, but he is sensual. setting a brutal pace that has you falling off the edge and clenching your thighs as your orgasm hits you, before slowing down his thrusts and taking his time, letting you ride out your high before he's fucking into you again, squeezing your ass and moving you up and down his dick so his cock reaches the deepest it can inside you. "you're mine, yeah? fuck, you're so tight. 'm gonna cum inside you."
➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) yes, the answer is yes anytime that word is used in a sentence. he'll wait for you to initiate unless you make him horny, which is more often than not- he loves subtly teasing you, hands finding their way into your panties underneath tables, fingers tracing your hips, feather-light touches across your thighs to let you know he needs you, leading you to wherever's semi-decent before he's shoving your clothes aside, bending you over and kicking your legs apart so he can fuck you until he's satisfied. "you're gonna have to cover again with thomas for me, babe. this is all you, you know? wearing those thigh highs- thinking i wouldn't react."
➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) definitely game to experiment, he adores finding new ways to pull reactions out of you. the first time he tried fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold on you, he swore it was the hardest he'd ever been. he was in awe, starstruck, watching you twitch at the slightest touch, looking all pretty and helpless. you were at his mercy, and it made his cock twitch. the wait was worth it, though- after he was done using his fingers to push you over the edge enough times, he lined himself up with your pussy, and hissed at the way he slid right in. buried completely inside you, he held your hips up as he started fucking you, realising you were louder when your sight was covered. "who knew you'd like being used? since you enjoy it so much, why don't we do this more often?"
➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) you usually lose track after the 7th to 8th round, mind blank after he's pulled another orgasm from you, towering over your spent body, a smug smile on his face as he pulls his dick out of you, slapping it against your slick pussy a few times, before shoving it back in completely, with no warning. he will quite literally fuck you until you pass out. "come on, babe. keep your eyes open, and on me- i know you can go one more round."
➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns quite a few, most are in the first drawer of his bedside table, the others are scattered across his mansion. he likes buying them to see how you react, keeping the ones you enjoy the most. his favourites are the ones that focus on your clit, he loves fucking you when he uses them, feeling your pussy spasm around him as you cum again. he does own a pussy pocket and uses it often when you're away. also, he's definitely asked if he can have one moulded to the shape of your cunt specifically.
➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he's very unfair, often teasing you as payback for all the years you've made him wait for you, thumb hovering over your clit as he stops you from orgasming, halting his thrusts as he watches you try and grind against his dick. he turns your head to him and kisses you, mouth swallowing your complaints and sobs as he watches you twitch from overstimulation. he breaks the kiss only to fuck into you nice and slow, building up the pace before he's slamming into you from behind, arms wrapping around you when you try to crawl away from him with how sensitive you are. "what now, my love? you can't move, poor thing. try and escape me this time."
➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he loves being vocal, letting you know just how good you feel as he manages to stuff his dick in your tight cunt, tip kissing your cervix as you double over at the feeling of being so full. he'll pull you right back up against his chest, not letting you catch your breath as he starts fucking into you, fingers flicking your hardened nipples, hands squeezing your tits as he moans in your ear. doesn't help that he sounds like pure sin, and his moans alone have you tightening around his cock. "fuuuck, you have no idea how good you feel. you're so wet, baby… feeling good? yeah? i know i am."
➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) you agree to it after he gives you the pros and cons, and find that he uses it every chance he gets. you didn't expect this out of him, but this man really wants to fuck you in your sleep. just something about the idea of having his way with you when you're not conscious. that, and he gets horny during the night and doesn't wanna wake you just to fuck you. he'd much rather finger you until you're ready to take him, stirring in your sleep but not fully awake as he rubs his dick along your pussy, using your slick to lube himself up before he's lining himself up and shoving his dick in, inch by inch. he'll rolls his hips experimentally, and moan softly in your ear. he waits for you to wake up, dazed and disoriented as your brain catches up, before he slams his dick completely into you, not giving your confused mind the chance to register your arousal as he starts rubbing your clit, teasing an orgasm out of you the minute you're up. "there she is. how'd you like your wake-up call, babe?"
➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) his dick is perfect, no, really. it is the most gorgeous dick you have ever seen, not a hair in sight, and his tip is the prettiest pink colour, all flushed from how turned on he gets because of you. he's circumcised, hates the idea of his penis ever getting dirty or smelling, that- and he reckons it makes it easier for you to suck him off. he has length and girth, not too big that it hurts but enough that you can feel him in your gut when he's inside you.
➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) very high, no matter how many times he fucks you, he can never get enough. rafayel loves the feel of your pussy, maybe more than the feel of a paintbrush in his hand when he has newfound motivation to finish a project, and he enjoys having his way with you whenever he wants. if he's ready to go, it means you'll soon follow. you can't refuse him when his touch trails across your bare skin, hands down your panties and fingers shoved two digits deep inside you, teasing and edging you until you give in to his need to fuck. "you can't blame me- it's your fault for looking so pretty, all fucked up like this. 'm gonna mark you up, let everyone know you're mine."
➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he wants to fall asleep right after he's done with you, having spent most of his energy fucking you until you're leaking his cum all over the bed sheets, but he likes staying awake until you pass out, idle talk lulling you to slumber as he brushes your hair out your face and behind your ear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest before he pulls you into his arms and rests his cheek against your tits. "you're asleep already? …i love you."
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace x reader#rafayel x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#smut
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