#of course they never took their mask off to show it off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mephisto-reporting · 19 days ago

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Husband?

About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

RAFAYEL

The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didn’t want to deal with the “art-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.

One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayel’s "creative process" (whatever that was—he hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long you’d been working with him.

“Oh, it’s been a while now. It’s honestly amazing seeing him grow like this—my husb—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.

"Husband?"

The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayel’s presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?

“Husband, huh?” Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. “I didn’t realize we were making things official tonight. If I’d known, I’d have worn something even more dazzling.”

You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t want to marry someone as charming as me?"

The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. “Of course, as your loving husband,” he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, “it’s only fitting that I’m showered with even more attention now, isn’t it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. “I didn’t mean to—"

"Oh no, no,” he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. “You can’t take it back now. The word’s out, Miss Bodyguard. You’ve called me your husband. That means you’re stuck with me. Forever.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Does this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. “As if you needed a reason to cheat more!”

Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. “Well, if I’m your husband now, I think it’s only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machines—oh, and don’t forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.”

Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, playing along. “But don’t expect me to let you win at everything, ‘husband.’”

Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, “Deal.” Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. “Now, let’s go, wife. You’re required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. ”

Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re impossible.”

The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. “You two make quite the pair.”

“Oh, we do, don’t we?” Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now they’ll all expect a wedding invitation.”

Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. “Still… I can’t say I hate the sound of it,” he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. “I might just get used to hearing it.”

You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.

Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.

ZAYNE

You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. He’d taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.

"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.

"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting old’s no fun."

You offered him a sympathetic smile. “No problem at all. My husband’s a doctor, actually. I’m sure he’d tell you to take it easy on that wrist."

The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slip—husband—or the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.

You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."

You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what you’d said. You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. “I didn’t— I mean, it just—slipped out. We’re not actually—I mean, obviously, we’re not—” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.

Zayne didn’t seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. “You know,” he said, voice as calm as ever, “if this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.” His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didn’t know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Zayne, I didn’t mean to—”

But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not like I mind the idea.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, “Seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it? My parents have been asking me when I’m going to take that step with you for a while now.”

His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. “Wait, your parents…?” you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.

“Mhm,” Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’ve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was serious—calm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadn’t even realized you both wanted.

“Only if you wanted to, of course,” he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. “I wouldn’t do anything unless we both agreed.”

You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. “You’re really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?”

Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. “Well, we’re already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.” He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. “Besides, I think it’s worth discussing what our future looks like, don’t you?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. “I think it’s definitely worth talking about.”

Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. “We’ll talk more later.”

He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadn’t just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.

“And for the record,” he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, “I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘husband’ again.”

Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didn’t bother trying to hide your smile. “Guess you’ll have to earn it first, doctor.”

Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. “I’ll be sure to work on that.”

SYLUS

The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious ventures—no explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.

You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.

Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. “Excuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. I’m feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,” you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.

The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.

“Husband?” His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. “Did I miss a wedding, wife?”

Your breath caught in your throat. "Wait—no, I didn't mean—" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylus’ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Maybe this is a sign I should make it official.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. “Official?” you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “What—what are you talking about?”

Sylus’ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. “Oh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. “You seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.”

You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. “I…I was just…helping us get a table,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “But now that you’ve set the bar so high, don’t tell me you’re going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.”

“I wasn’t—” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. “You know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Don’t start getting ideas.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Ideas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.” His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. “But let’s be honest, you didn’t hate it. Calling me your husband.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. “I didn’t hate it,” you admitted, folding your arms, “but don’t go thinking you’ve won. I’m not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.”

Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll see about that, kitten” he said, the threat—or promise—hanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Please, Sylus. You couldn’t handle being married to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. You’re the one who might need to keep up.”

You shot back, “Keep up? I’d be carrying you the whole way.”

“Careful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.” He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. “Now that’s a tempting thought.”

“Tempting? Try exhausting,” you quipped.

As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.

This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.

XAVIER

The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drink—no whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasn’t going to say a word about it, but that didn’t mean you were going to let it slide.

Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. “Excuse me,” you began, with a polite smile. “My husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like there’s some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?”

The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didn’t even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.

He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion and—was that amusement? “Husband?” he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.

Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. “Oh, no, wait—! I didn’t mean—” You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “That just slipped out! I meant to say…uh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Not—well, not husband, obviously…”

Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. “I must’ve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'” he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. “I didn’t know we’d moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.”

You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. “I swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.”

But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. “So, dear wife,” he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, “do you think we’ll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?”

You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. “Very funny,” you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. “I wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you did call me your husband in public. Shouldn’t we at least play the part now?”

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t resist playing along with his ridiculousness. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “But just so you know, dear husband, you’ll be the one doing the dishes.”

Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. “As long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.”

You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavier’s newly corrected drink—this time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if she’d picked up on the playful atmosphere. “Here you go,” she said. “No whipped cream this time, sir.”

Xavier’s eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. “See? Husband perks,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But... thank you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. “For speaking up for me.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. “Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s what wives do, right?”

Xavier let out a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the café. Just the two of you, playing pretend—but maybe, just maybe, something more.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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reyalvr · 5 months ago

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SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t.

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face.

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up?

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?”

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.”

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you.

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him.

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his.

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate.

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on.

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.”

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.”

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-”

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson.

Shit. Strike two.

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him.

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag.

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself.

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance.

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours.

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three.

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours.

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger.

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence.

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you.

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up.

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place.

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat.

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices.

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd.

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system.

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.”

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.”

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone.

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on.

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something.

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.”

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously.

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board.

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely.

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words.

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off.

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan.

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him.

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything.

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.”

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door.

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.”

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in.

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while.

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.”

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features.

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation.

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.”

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine.

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 3 months ago

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You were towing a dangerous line, and you knew it. You shouldn’t be here, you should be walking right back to your quarters without looking back.

But gods, the way Simon was looking at you, had you unable to form a coherent thought. Had any rational part of your brain was slowly fading from your grasp. You of course had seen him without his mask before, but every time he laid his face bare before you had your stomach tying itself in knots. How was it humanly possible for a man to be so…pretty?

You’d found yourself in his quarters only minutes ago, under the guise of returning one of his masks you’d found in the training hall. Both of you knew it was shitty excuse, both of you knowing full well why you were here, in his room.

The two of you have been dancing the line of professionalism for months now. From the constant staring, lingering touches, flirty banter…You knew it was wrong, and so did he. But neither of you brought yourself to care since that line had never been officially crossed.

Until now. You honestly had no idea why tonight of all nights you showed up at his quarters. No thought as to why your feet had seemed to move on their own, leading you to his door.

Now here you were, pressed against the closed door of his room, watching him walk toward you as a familiar warmth began to spread in your lower belly. He was stalking toward you, like a predator closing in on his prey.

“Simon.” You spoke, cursing yourself as your voice came out shaky. You hated knowing he knew the effect he had on you.

“Y/N.” Came his gruff reply, and you swore you could see a ghost of a smile dancing on his scarred lips.

“Tell me this is not a good idea.” You said, unable to take your eyes away from the man in front of you. Your breath hitched as he was so close now that you could feel the heat from his breath fanning your lips. “Tell me to walk away, Simon.”

Simon didn’t speak, didn’t dare move a muscle as he held your gaze, his eyes holding nothing but pure lust in them. You could feel heat begin to pool between your thighs as you heard him loose a shaken breath.

“You’re my superior. We can’t do this. Tell me to walk away and we won’t ever revisit this.” You were trying to convince yourself of this more than him at this point. You let your eyes scan across his face, taking in every gorgeous detail of his freckled, scarred skin that you could commit to memory.

Still, Simon said nothing, only continued to inch his face closer to yours, his lips now inches from your own. His hands laid flat on the door on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. It took every ounce of self restraint not to jump on him in that moment.

“Simo-.” You were cut off by his one of his hands snaking around your neck, applying just enough pressure to have you biting back a soft groan.

“You gonna shut up now?” Simon chided, his eyes darkening as his fingers tightened their grip around the base of your throat. “Because if you’re done trying to convince yourself that this is a bad idea, I’d very much like to take you to my bed and show you just how wrong you are.”

If you weren’t soaked before, you certainly were now. “S-Simon, this is wrong, and you know it.” You tried, knowing full well you didn’t give a shit that it was.

“I don’t care.” Was all he said, before finally closing the gap, his lips engulfing yours in a heated kiss. “I don’t fucking care.”

And neither did you.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw3

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 3 months ago

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Gala Buddies

Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.

So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.

Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.

Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.

At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.

Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.

Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.

“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.

Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.

“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”

“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”

“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.

The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”

Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”

Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”

“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.

“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”

Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.

“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”

“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”

“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”

Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”

Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.

The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.

“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.

Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”

And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.

“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.

“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”

“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #Danny phantom #Sam Manson #duke Thomas #the signal #batfamily #Danny phantom x dc #Sam x duke #I was thinking about ships I don’t see and Sam x Duke came to mind #grumpy x sunshine #ultraviolet #ultraviolet ship

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satori-runa · 28 days ago

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—In the warmth

Summary: You are genuinely wondering why your captain doesn't show more skin despite Natlans hot temperatures.

Words: 0,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Natlan was quite the opposite of your home nation. The heat assaulted your body, forcing you to strip off your coat and minimize your movements before a heat stroke could knock you out in the middle of the mission.

Your hand barely created a cold breeze, no matter how hard you tried to wave it in front of your face to generate even the tiniest bit of fresh air. You could swear the air wasn't even moving; it was just warm and stuffy, even out in nature.

The only one unaffected by the oppressive climate was the captain himself. He still wore that large black coat lined with fur and heavy chains. His stance showed no sign of discomfort, indicating that he wasn’t affected like you or the others. In fact, he maintained his usual behaviour. It really irritated you—he didn’t shed a single piece of armour, didn’t roll up his sleeves, and never took off that giant coat in front of the team. Whenever you approached him to ask if he wasn’t hot, he would simply say, no, he wasn’t.

"If you need a break in this weather, you can take it." his deep voice told you. He shifted the focus from your concern for him directly back to you, like a mirror. After all, he knew you weren’t truly worried about him suffering in the heat. You were just curious to see even a little bit of his skin.

"I'll manage, but I appreciate the offer, Captain. I can’t slack off while the others are working so hard to set up the rest of the camp."

There was a hint of disappointment beneath your layer of gratitude, but he chose not to address it.

Later that night, Capitano sat alone by the campfire, his gaze directed toward the ground. He had sensed you nearby a while ago but said nothing as you approached his tall form. The heat of the nation was even worse at night, especially in a place like this, which only added to your irritation upon seeing the Captain seated in front of a fire.

"You should at least take off your mask." you finally said, breaking the silence. A few seconds passed before he responded. "There is no need." Of course, he wouldn’t, if he had wanted to, he would have done so long ago, even without your prompting. "I’m curious." There it was, the sheer honesty you had tried to mask with concern before. It made him chuckle. He liked that side of you.

Capitano and you had known each other for years. You were a loyal member of his regular troupe, yet you didn’t know him well. And still, he chose to trust you. His hands slowly lifted, removing the helmet and the mask that covered his face.

There he was, illuminated by the warm fire. His eyes were like stars, shining and deep, staring right through you with an expression that could be described as curiosity. His raven hair fell perfectly into place, framing his face and accentuating his features. But what caught your attention most was the rotting dark part—it looked strange, inhuman, more like it was tainted by the Abyss. It exposed part of his teeth, and yet, oddly, it suited him.

"I know what you’re thinking." He huffed, moving to put the helmet back on, but your hand caught his wrist just in time to stop him.

"The air feels good without the extra layer, right, Capitano?" He glanced at you, and all he could see was your genuine smile, no fear, no disgust, just radiant joy that burned in his chest more than Natlan’s heat ever could.

"It does."

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #genshin impact #genshin capitano #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #genshin impact x reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months ago

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Yandere Short Stories:

Knight in Shining Armor

Yandere Monster Knight x Princess Reader

TW: delusional Yandere, Yandere behavior, kidnapping (mentioned), etc.

Ajax had always been princess (your name)’s confidant and source of solace… so why did he have her cornered on the bed of the inn? His large, muscular frame towered over her as his body trembled.

“I can’t do it… I can’t let you marry some other man.” Ajax whispered, his metal mask hiding his expression. There was no doubt in (your name)’s mind that he was shaken up about something. She had no clue why he’d be so upset about her getting married…

“Ajax, it was bound to happen eventually. It’s my duty as the kingdom’s princess-“ (your name) gasped when he closed the distance between them. Ajax’s large palms pulled her into a tight hug. The force of the hug caused them both to land on the small bed with a soft plop.

“Ajax-“ Ajax placed a finger on (your name)’s lips to pause her words.

“I won’t allow it… I won’t allow some other man to sully you.” Ajax’s deep voice made her body anxiously shake. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so many years…”

“Ajax-“ (your name)’s eyes widened when he finally removed the mask that’s concealed his face for over a decade. Ajax was half orc? (Your name) hadn’t a clue and she had been with him for so many years…

“I’m half monster, I thought you knew.” Ajax chuckled as his crimson eyes flitted over (Your name)’s frozen form. She was now a helpless lamb trapped in the maw of the wolf. “It’s why the other knights have been so cruel to me… why the maids avoid me like the plague and your father wanted to send me to war.”

(Your name)’s eyes can only take on his scarred and burned face in shock. Why was half the skin on his mouth missing and his tusks filed down? Who had hurt him so much that he didn’t confide in her, his best friend? What atrocities had he faced while she remained none the wiser?

(Your name) were shocked when he bent down to show you his teeth. His tusks were clumsily filed down to almost look like teeth but they were still rather sharp. “I did the tusk work, but they grow back rather quickly. The skin on my face is still healing from when there was an assassination attempt on you from your future husband’s concubines. Bastard was going to pour acid on your face.”

(Your name) reached up to trace the scars on his face while Ajax gave her a soft smile. “Ajax…”

“You’re the only one who’s never treated me like a monster… you’re so wonderful and kind.” Ajax moved his large, gloved hands to hold her hands. “That old king doesn’t deserve you. No one does!”

(Your name) blushed when Ajax brought her hands up to his lips to press tender kisses over each of her knuckles. Despite how badly Ajax wished to ravish her, he must keep his composure.

“You took this amount of damage for me?” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it made Ajax melt into a puddle.

“Of course I did. I will do anything for you.” Ajax moved himself to crouch on the corner of the bed, his head in a slight bow. Yet (your name) could feel the burning obsessed behind his crimson gaze. “I am in love with you. Madly, deeply, entirely devoted to you and only you.”

Ajax grasped (your name)’s bare foot and brought it up to his mouth to press tender kisses across the top of it. “I will love you until my skin rots off my body and I am nothing but bones. Yet even death could not separate me from you for I will be in every corner of your life like a permanent shadow of protection. I will protect you with my entire being and soul. I will haunt and dismember your enemies if you so much as give them a glance of distaste.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold when Jax gave her a bright grin that reopened a few of the stitches across his cheeks. The blood dripped down his face and onto her foot, but he merely lapped it up with his longer tongue. “Now tell me… is what I feel not love? I may not be a handsome prince but I swear I’m your knight in shining armor.”

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year ago

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Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

#spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader smut #spiderman atsv #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x y/n

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 18 days ago

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"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝚂𝟸!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @starkeyisthelastname

5.8K

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

Rafe and the Reader are both from Kildare Island. They both attend the same college. *Kildare Island cartographers, this is not accurate. I am aware 💕*

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Praise kink, ownership kink, softboyfriend!rafe, pet names, Ward is a dick, verbal abuse, physical abuse, swearing, drinking, drinking and driving, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, gore, smut, cum play, cum tasting, mask kink, major character death, unprotected p in v, choking, rough sex

Reader’s POV:

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Rafe mumbles as he leans into your neck, kissing you gently, his large arm wrapped around you. You rest your hand on his thigh, letting him pull you against his broad frame as you do your best to calm down.

There was a list of things, really; it’s the night of The Purge, after all. The terror behind it was never easy to think about. Then, to top it all off, your very first dinner at the Cameron’s place. Somehow, you found yourself more nervous about the latter. Taking a deep breath, you melted against him, your lips finding his for a soft kiss. “Nothing, baby. Just a little anxious.” You whispered against his mouth. Rafe draws the same breath, not wanting to wave off your worry.

This was always a difficult night; the houses and residents of Figure 8 always seemed to get hit the hardest. The hatred, violence, and aggression The Cut held inside for this side of the island were clear, rightfully so—vandalism, theft, arson, beatings, murder; complete and utter chaos. But the Kooks weren't innocent either; they never are. Their crimes on Purge Night seemed to go unnoticed, brushed under the rug, their faces hidden under satirical masks. By the morning, when everyone pulled themselves out of their safe rooms, the manicured streets would be torn to shreds. The Kooks would be in “mourning” for the rest of the year, attending fundraiser after fundraiser, gala after gala, to return their neighborhoods to how they once were.

“You’re gonna be alright, princess. You have your safe room. We have ours. We can talk on the phone all night. Aight? I’m gonna look after Rose and Wheezie; your dad promised me that you’d be safe. It’ll be just like any other night.”

“I wish we could’ve stayed on campus,” your voice whispered as you lifted your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes burned from the heat of the tears threatening to spill down yours cheeks.

“That campus is gonna go to shit, princess. Always does. Tons of kids with rage to spare. We’re safer here.” You look up at the TV screen, Rafe’s words affirmed as they showed CCTV footage from the year before, your college campus flickering across the screen. It looked like a war zone… Rafe was right. The both of you were safer here.

“Reports had shown last year’s Purge had been the most successful to date, with the most murders committed.”

The journalist speaks with pride as she delivers the news. You could feel the chills run down your body, goosebumps flaring across your bare thighs. Rafe, of course, took notice of this, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. “We’re graduatin’ next year. We’ll have a place of our own, just you and me,” He assured, reminding you of that sweet truth.

“Just you and me,” You echoed as you matched his pretty blue eyes. Wheezie’s phone buzzes, making you match her gaze across the living room. She’s an eavesdropper, lovingly so, her mood shift evident after listening your conversation with Rafe, knowing that it might just be Rose, Ward, and herself next year. Her protector, gone. “You too, of course, Wheez,” you smiled at her. She purses her lips, fluttering her lashes, quickly hurrying herself back to having her face buried in her phone to hide her emotion.

"Red or white?" Rose asked sweetly, her hands resting on a wine glass as she waited for your reply.

"Red wine, please." You smiled. “Thank you.”

"Rafe, would you like red?" She asked, earning a nod in reply from him. Rafe glanced over his shoulder, watching his stepmom run four glasses of wine. "Dinner will be ready in five.” She announced.

You gave her a polite smile and nod, nerves bubbling— this dinner was a staple in the Cameron house. It was like Thanksgiving in July: immaculate, decadent, excessive. A love letter to the Pogues, to give them just one more reason to hate the Kooks before the sirens sounded.

“Who knows, maybe next year we can Purge together,” Rafe whispers against your ear. The suggestion alone made your stomach fall. The unseriousness in his tone evident as he razzes you for shock value. But he’s joking… right? You let out a small breath when you heard his laugh, his arm gripping you tighter. “M’kidding, pretty.” He chuckled, amused by your reaction.

The jingle of a collar pulled your thoughts away as Rafe’s dog, Penny, rounded the corner and made her way over with a jump onto the couch. The large golden retriever snuggled next to you as she always did, making you smile softly at the momentary distraction. Rafe reached down, scratching her head with his grin. “Think Pen would rather spend the night with you than me, sweetheart,” he coos as he looks at her, making the sweet girl wag her tail. “Traitor.”

You looked at her, touching her soft fur before speaking. “Next year, it’ll be you, Rafey, me, and Wheez,” you speak to her sweetly as you scratch her head.

“That’s right,” Rafe hums happily.

"Dinner's ready,” Rose calls from the kitchen. Rafe weaves his larger hand in yours, leading you toward the table. Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair and waited for you to take your seat before pushing it in. It was the sound of heavy footsteps that made the both of you glance up, seeing the patriarch himself. Ward Cameron. Rafe looks over his plate as he sits down, praising Rose and avoiding eye contact with his father as the older man sits across from him.

"So Alexis, how is school going for you?" Ward asked, causing Rose and Wheezie’s conversation to hush as he mentioned Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, Alexis Thornton's name, not yours. You were taken aback a little, but tried not to show it on your face. You didn’t know how to respond but did your best to save yourself the embarrassment.

"Umm... It's going great. Thank you." You said quietly, deciding to let it go.

"Y/n, I’ve actually been thinking about going there too," Wheezie emphasized your name with a sugary, sweet smile. “You know, when the time comes,” she adds casually, peering out of the corner of her eye at Ward as she swirled some pasta on her fork. She was waiting for her father to correct his mistake, but to her surprise, nothing came.

"Really? That’s amazing, Wheez. You should come out for a visit soon, and I can show you all our favorite spots.” You told her, picking up your wine glass to take a small sip. That’s when you heard Ward scoff, making you look in his direction. “She’s a child,” Ward rasped, followed by a mocking laugh. ”What are you gonna do? Take her to a bar?” His words were cold underneath a fake smile.

The confused look on your face said it all as you replied to him. “Obviously not,” You laugh him off, taking a similar tone towards him. Did he really think you’d take a 13-year-old to a bar? “There are some great restaurants, fun coffee shops, and a few cute little boutiques I’d love to take you to.” You said, focusing your attention back over on Wheezie.

Her smile brightened at your words, giving you an excited nod to her head. You turn your focus back to the head of the table, watching as Ward throws back the rest of his first glass of wine. It vibrated against the table as he slammed it down, gesturing to Rose with his other hand. As if he needed another. “Well, I’m hopin’ your grades are better than his,” Ward mumbled, cutting off Rose’s pour, three fingers from the top of the glass.

“I have good grades, but I’m not sure what you mean by that. Rafe’s grades are great.” You told him, your hand squeezing your boyfriend’s leg supportively under the table. You watched as Ward raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing around the wine glass before he set it down.

“He’s not on Academic Probation anymore? How many chapters did I miss?” Ward snickered cruelly as he matched Rafe’s eyes and yours. His words were harsh and cutting as he tried his best to embarrass his son in front of everyone. If one were to ask if Ward had any regrets, the only one he had would be not having a bigger audience to humiliate his eldest child.

"Uh, no. Not since the first year,” Rafe responded, his voice breaking slightly with anger as he spoke up. His blue irises flashed darker, meeting his father’s gaze as the man gave him a smirk. ”Real proud of you, son. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Ward drawled out in a thick southern accent laced with nothing but hate.

“You and your family gonna be alright tonight? Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut,” Ward asks as he slides his spoon across his tongue to cover the slight grin he’s holding back, taking a bite of crème brûlée. Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut… He means that in more ways than one— physically close, just a bay separating the two. Financially close as well, new money and a new family business, skirting the line between Kook and Pogue; still enough coin to pay for a membership at the Island Club.

Rafe knew precisely what he meant, Ward’s wicked double-entendre conjuring up fury. Calling you the wrong name was the first thing that had pissed him off; now his father was being rude to you just for the hell of it, and that was a whole other thing on its own. It was only a matter of time before he absolutely lost it.

"So, Alexis, what’s your brother up to these days-”

"Jesus Christ, Dad... Her name is y/n..." Rafe snapped, banging his giant fists against the table, the delicate china clattering and clanging on the flat surface. Ward chuckled at his son’s outburst, knowing he was the reason for it.

"Sorry, son. I can't keep all your girlfriends straight," He laughed before turning to you. "You don't mind if I just call you Alexis? Do you, sweetheart?" He slurs, a sly smirk on his lips.

"I do.” You reply quietly, trying your best not to cry from humiliation. He was just being an ass, but everyone's eyes on you were making you very uneasy. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, your appetite suddenly gone. Rafe took one look at you and shook his head.

"Alright... I think we are good. Are you good, sweetheart?" Rafe asked, already knowing the answer. He stood up abruptly, reaching for your hand. His other rips the bottle of wine off the table and passes it to you before snagging the crème brûlée as Ward reaches for seconds.

"M’takin’ her home and I’m leavin’ in the mornin’,” Rafe spat. “By the way, Dad, why don’t you stop drinkin’? Huh? You’re not gonna be good for shit if I gotta protect your ass too, fuckin’ pussy.” Ward was seething, wasting no time in grabbing Rafe by the shirt, pulling him down to meet his cold, dead eyes.

“The hell did you just call me, boy?” His voice was low as he twisted the fabric tighter in his hand.

“Called you a fuckin’ pussy,” Rafe responded with a level tone, not letting his nerves get the best of him. Ward’s face fell as he let him go, only to push him back towards the wall—Rafe bumped into the decorative table, sending one of Rose’s ornate vases crashing to the floor.

Rafe took a long drink from the wine bottle, just waiting for another storm of insults that would surely fly from Ward’s mouth. The vase was shattered all over the hardwood, the table quiet as everyone felt the tension thick in the air. Taking a breath, the older man hung his head in exhaustion for his disappointment of a son. This was a regular occurrence for the tumultuous pair, and Rafe’s voice was eerily calm again when he turned to his stepmother.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll clean that up when I get back,” Rafe mumbles, his head nodding over to messy ground. Rose, who didn’t want to set her husband or stepson off even more, just gave him a soft nod and a weak smile.

“Hurry back,” Wheezie blurts out, not wanting her older brother to be out after the sirens called. She was about to say something else when her father interrupted her.

“If you’re not back here in an hour, m’locking the damn gate, Rafe,” Ward warned. ”You know I have no problem lettin’ you stay out there all night.” He hissed. You gave Ward a look of disgust, unable to hide it at the lack of emotion he carried for Rafe. You saw his eyes quickly meet yours, watching his lip twitch slightly. His gaze softened, holding a tiny fraction of remorse from the fact you saw just how awful he treated his own blood.

Fifteen minutes to your house, fifteen minutes back, leaving you thirty minutes to spare. "Wine?" You asked sweetly, passing your boyfriend the bottle by its neck.

"Please. Definitely need it after that shit show.” He exhaled, wishing he had something stronger. He took a healthy swig of the red liquid, finishing the bottle with a tipsy laugh. “Oh shit.” He chuckled dryly, tossing it in the back of the truck as you glanced back at him, his cerulean eyes met yours in a glassy stare.

"Fuck, y/n, that was embarrassing," he pushed out as he drummed his blunt nails against the steering wheel. "I've been lookin‘ forward to you meetin’ them for a while, and - and my dad always finds a way to mess it up." He stammered. You scooped up a bite of the stolen crème brûlée, feeding him. Rafe groaned at the taste of the decadent dessert making you giggle, the sound easing his sour mood for a moment. “We will never be like that,” he sighed, tone serious as his striking blue eyes bored into you deeply.

“Never.”

You knew Rafe was running high on many emotions. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval; deep down, he knew he would never receive it. Though the moment was sad, hearing him talking about the future with you brought some sense of peace. You knew his parents couldn’t care less, and you could only hope and pray, that didn’t make him have any second thoughts about the two of you. The feeling of the spoon slipping from your hand pulled you from your thoughts as Rafe now had it to get another bite. “So ready for this night to be over with.”

You let out a sigh, looking down at your lap before back up to your handsome boyfriend. “Neither can I, baby. Neither can I…” You said, your nerves setting in all over again. Rafe could read you, deciding to lean in and place a kiss on your lips for reassurance. He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in close as his tongue played with yours. He was kissing you as if it would be the last time, but he would never utter those words out loud. Pulling back slowly, he rested his forehead against yours. “Drive home safe, Rafe.”

“Promise, princess,” he said, his voice vibrating against your mouth before kissing you once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer than usual before getting out of his parked truck and heading to your house.

You look out your window, staring across the shimmering water of the bay. It’s quiet— calm. But that won’t last for long. Soon, both sides of the Island rise. The TV glows in your bedroom, illuminating the space around you as the news continues to run story after story from the years before, scaring some and inspiring most.

You wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, snuggling into your pillows as you wait for the announcement. Rafe hasn’t called yet or answered; I just hope he made it back to Tanneyhill okay.

“This is not a test.”

Your heart falls into your stomach; your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you hear those five words you’ve been waiting for. Your eyes shift away from the window as you take in the words on your screen.

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am. And, for the first time since its inception, no one has been granted special immunity from the Purge. No citizen or group will be exempt. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

The siren blares making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight; the blood in your frozen body runs cold.

“May God be with you all.”

His eyes widen on yours, breaking away in disbelief, staring down at nothing but the handle of the blade. The knife was lodged deep in his stomach, your mind dizzy as Ward gasped for breath.

You never thought you’d be one to actually do it. The night was already dangerous, and here you were, back at the infamous Tannyhill amid the mist of chaos. It was your right, though, and he was why you were doing this in the first place. Seeing the way he could no longer spit those venomous out or give you a look of intimidation made you hold such power over him. This was giving you an indescribable high to see him almost silently pleading with you despite it being too late.

You were doing the world a favor, and oh my god, the gasp he let out made you realize this was really happening. Yanking the blade free, you watched as he stumbled back. Ward tripped over the hallway rug, his body falling onto the ground with a loud thud. The house was quiet except for the sounds of Ward fighting for air, his hands reaching out for anything to help pull him away from you.

He couldn’t survive. If he found out it was you, it would be over, everything… And that couldn’t happen.

Stepping towards him, you sank to your knees and looked into his eyes. The purple LED lights on your mask reflected in his reading glasses, his eyes behind it leaking with pathetic tears. Fucking pussy. You didn’t think you had it in you, lifting the knife above your head without any tremble to your hands.

“This is for Rafe.” You bring it down, stabbing him in the heart, sealing his fate. The strike was brutal, and you could swear you felt the tip of the sharp blade pierce into the hardwood floor. Blood covered the hall, the fight over as his body grew still beneath you. You waited, his chest no longer rising as you watched him lay there, now lifeless. Forcing the knife out, you took a deep breath and rolled your neck to release the tension of the night. The nerves, the anxiety, all of it put to rest as you rid the world of this evil man.

You and Rafe would never truly be happy if Ward was around to ruin every moment. You knew every family event or special occasion would be tarnished just like it was tonight. Not only that, but the cutting words, scarring digs, and emotional abuse he let his son suffer. You couldn’t stand to hear him or see him treat the man you loved this way anymore. That dinner earlier was the last time he got to make Rafe feel that way ever again.

Lifting up your mask, you let your emotions go as you laughed at his now vacant body. “Fuck you, Ward.” You spat, only to feel your heart skip a beat as the sound of a familiar collar jangled down the long hallway. Your stomach dropped, the realization that you had been in the house too long and caught the attention of Penny. If Ward had been scanning the house, there was no way that Rafe wasn’t doing the same thing. You could only hope he was in the safe room with Rose and Wheezie.

You rose to your feet, seeing the golden retriever trot towards you a little faster as she recognized your scent through the disguise. Leaning down, you carefully scratched her fury ear and whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Penny girl.”

The sound of a deep voice made that sinking feeling come back to your lower belly. “You hear somethin’, girl?” Rafe’s booming tone, not even trying to be quiet as his large shadow stands at the end of the hallway.

Fuck.

No… No…

You took two steps backward, clutching the knife in your shaky hand as he took two large strides forward. Turning around, you sprinted towards the door and downstairs. You ran past the living room, ignoring the thought that you had been snuggling there only a few hours earlier. His steps grew louder, and his voice echoed through the mansion as he yelled, “STOP!”

Your lungs were burning as you looked over your shoulders you tore out onto the trimmed front lawn. Your own boyfriend, on your heels, making you hold back a scream as you made a shot for the thick trees on the other side of the house. It offered you a place to hide and catch your breath as your rapid heartbeat rang through your ears. You found yourself crawling next to a tree, the pure darkness, your only hope of survival as you tried to stay out of sight. You tore off your mask, quieting your breathing as you hid with the palm of your blood soaked hand.

You listened to his heavy footsteps fading fast. You took a minute to think, knowing you couldn’t go back to the front of Tannyhill without being seen. The barn... You would wait it out there for the night to get the heat off of you and then find a way out. You’d clean up and come back to console Rafe. Making sure the lights on your mask were off, you tugged it back on your face and stood up.

The North Carolina night was warm, making you feel sticky as dirt and blood caked your skin. You made your way through the dark woods until the small white barn came into view. You looked at it, your mind racing with different scenarios. What if he called? What if he decided to leave and saw that your car was parked down the road? What if he finds you? Would he kill for what you did?

Slipping into the bar, you followed the beacon of light pouring down from above. Your feet creaked along the old rigid floor as you made your way over to the ladder. You climbed until you couldn’t, taking a small, tired huff. You felt a little better until you realized you had left your knife behind. If Rafe had come across that, it would have been over, and now it was just another thing that you would have to figure out later. If there was a later anyway…

You crawled over to the corner of the upstairs loft, looking down out of the small window. It was an eerie scene as your eyes studied the surroundings below: a couple of four-wheelers, a dirt bike, and two covered cars. You shivered, reaching for the tarp beside you, pulling it over to hide yourself, just in case.

CREAK.

Your eyes shot open, making your head peer out from behind the blue tarp. You froze in horror as Rafe stepped through the open door, his large silhouette and crystal eyes shining into the room. He took a breath before letting out a frustrated growl. “I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE!” He screamed, the anger and sadness evident in his tone. You brought a hand to your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as his footsteps moved throughout the space.

You watched his every movement as he walked across the loft floor, getting closer to you. His heavy and erratic breathing filled the once-silent space making your heart race as he stepped close enough for you to catch something shiny. You let out a small gasp, seeing the same knife you’d used to kill his own father. The wood creaked underneath his weight as if he heard the noise you let out. You shut your eyes once more, pleading with him in your mind to just go away. You had to hold onto hope for the miracle that he would give up, and you could see him in the morning without having to explain this situation. That was if he would let you explain.

When you thought things were quiet enough to take a peek, you slowly opened your teary eyes only to meet the very ones of the man you loved. His hand wrapped around your throat before you said anything, his grip strong enough to lift you off your feet effortlessly. He squeezes, shoving you into the hard wall. You couldn’t die at the hands of your boyfriend. You weren’t ready, your voice coming out in a pitiful squeak as the tears flowed underneath your mask. “Please stop.”

His hand twists his hand in your hair, his eyes widening as he recognizes those silky strands. He immediately pulls the mask away from your face, his emotion changing. “Y/N?” He asked, looking at you as he calmed his breathing. You heard the knife drop to the ground with a clang before you listened to the sweet name he always called you. “Princess…”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze until you felt him cup your cheek. The pad of this thumb ran across your soft skin, which you instantly leaned into. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. You whimpered against him, the terror you had been feeling now washing away. You could feel him smile against your lips; a grin on his face as he pulled back to look down at you.

“You beat me to it.” He spoke in a hushed voice as he watched your eyebrows come together in confusion.

“I… I beat you to it?” You stuttered, earning a chuckle in response from Rafe.

He nodded with a hum as his hand reached up to run through your hair. “Mmhm.. I’m guessin’ you did this for me? That right?” He asked, his other hand holding up the mask you once had on. You looked at it, almost afraid to admit anything.

There was no lying to him, though; you let your head fall as you took a shaky breath. “Yes. I couldn’t stand the fact of him being here another day.” You said, meeting his eyes as carefully looked up at him.

Rafe studied you briefly before his raspy voice spoke out into the darkness. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while. Haven’t you?” He asked, watching as you nodded in silence.

“I have.” You whispered, still unsure if this was set up.

It was him murmuring ‘me too,’ his hands squeezing your hips that you knew he was being genuine. “You should have told me baby. We could have done it together. Huh?” He smirked, his fingertips coming to the button of your dark jeans. Something about you taking his father’s life for him so that he no longer had to deal with the pain and suffering the man caused him had him feral. He didn’t know you would be the one he caught; his family had a lot of enemies, after all. Knowing it was, you had him feeling an entirely different way.

He moved his hand from your pants, coming to his own crisp white shirt to pull off. His toned upper body gleamed under the moonlight shining from the window. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, your bloody manicured nails tracing over his broad chest and down to where you could pop the button of his pants open. You heard his breath hitch as you reached even further, giving his hard-on a squeeze. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you in for one last kiss before he turned you to face the wall. He pressed against you from behind, his hands yanking down your jeans and panties in one go. You step out of them, the heat growing more in your lower tummy.

“Co’mere.” He rasped, leading you to the tarp you had once been hiding under. He pulls you down with him, straddling his lap as he works to remove the thin shirt you wore. You reach down into his boxers to pull his hard length out, the fat head soon poking your drooling hole. You feel the burn as he stretches you out, your pretty cries echoing through the barn. You were so full of him, taking all of him as he glided into your soaked core.

“Holy fuck… Rafe!” You gasped, your nails digging into his chest as your head spun with pleasure and adrenaline. Even the way you felt after killing Ward felt nothing compared to the way Rafe made you feel. His eyes looked up at you as he worked you along his body, cock filling you up in the best way.

“You’re so perfect. Yeah? Don’t forget that. My goddamn girl, princess. Fuck. You’re mine.” His voice was like velvet as he reached between the two of you to rub your sweet little pearl in circles.

You were a mess, involuntary clenching around him as you rode him. He let out a groan, watching those pretty tits bounce each time you came down. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Oh my god, baby…” He grunted under the sounds of your skin slapping against his. You were high on all of this, euphoria running through you as you lifted yourself off of him just to come back down with a slam.

“Yeah? You like the way I feel wrapped around you?” You bit at him, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his throat. You watched as his eyes rolled back while you squeezed, his head tilting back in pleasure. His thick digits on one hand continued the torture on your clit while the other grabbed one of your plush tits.

As much as Rafe loved for you to take control, he couldn’t help but reel you back by rolling you over to be on top. He slams back into you, watching your mouth fall at the sudden change in position. His long cock hits your sweet spot, making you arch your back off the tarp. “Hold still, princess.” He mumbled, gripping the back of your thighs to bring them higher. He spreads you open, nearly folding you in two as his toned hips thrust into you.

“Fuck Rafe!” You squeal, eyes looking at the space between you. The light illuminating through the small loft window reflected off his abs, flexing as he pounded into you. His thick cock shiny with arousal as it rammed into you.

“You know I gotta take charge. Can’t fucking help it when you got a pussy like this, sweetheart. Can you take a little more for me, baby?” He breathed out, watching as you nodded the best you could as you grew closer to your climax. “Mphff? You deserve it, baby. I swear you do.” Rafe says, hooking your legs over his shoulders and letting you take his pounding.

You clawed at him, whining, leaving your babbling mouth as you drew closer to exploding. The heat in your stomach was about to burst, and your thighs quivered. “M’gonna cum.” You mumbled out, your chest breaking out in a flush.

His rough fingers found your clit once more, bringing you to the edge as he rubbed it just enough for you to let go. Clutching at his broad shoulders, you cry out and let him bury his face in your neck as he relentlessly drilled into you. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in this pretty pussy.” He gritted out, his mouth constantly growing more filthy the closer he got.

“Need your cum inside me. Please give it to me.” You begged, breath still short as you were barely off your high.

“Yeah, Princess? You need it? Fuck, you need my cum?”

“Cum in my fucking pussy, Rafe.” His eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice. You felt this cock start to swell and throb inside of you, his groans vibrating off of you as heavy loads of warm spent filled your walls. You whimper softly, his head pulling back only to meet you for a kiss.

He took a few before slowly pulling out, his eyes heavy as he watched his seed slowly spill out of you. It was quite the sight and feeling to have came inside you for the first time on the same night you killed his father. He can’t help but travel his hand down, pushing the sticky liquid back into your swollen hole with a smile. “Fuck.. I love you.” His voice hoarse as he admired all of you.

You let out a quiet giggle, the feeling of being full of him making you satisfied. Grabbing his wrist you lifted his hand to your mouth, sucking on Rafe’s big fingers dripping with his cum and yours, before letting them go with a pop. “I love you too, baby.” You said softly.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” He asked, his facial expression turning more serious as if he needed reassurance.

Without any hesitation, you sat up and wrapped your hand around his bare bicep. “Anything.” You whispered, and you meant that.

A wicked grin spread across his face as soon as he heard that. He looked out at the still-dark sky and hummed in thought. “You know it’s still early. Wanna take the dirt bike and get out of here? I bet we can have some fun.” He said, glancing back at you.

“You have a mask?” You asked curiously. Were you and Rafe really about to go out and Purge? Reaching over to his discarded jeans, he pulled out a black ski mask from the back pocket. He ran a hand over his sweaty bangs, pushing them back to tug the material over his handsome face. His ocean eyes shined through, the same devilish smile on his face.

“What do you say, princess?”

Lily!!!!! You are such an amazing writer and friend. Thank you so much for writing with me 💕☺️🤭🩷 I will forever be a fan of your work. 🥹

⭐ tag ⭐ <- tag list on my pinned post (if your name is crossed out, your tag isn't working💕) @floredaqueen @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @theeternaloptimistt @ditzyzombiesblog @cl4uus @aariahnaa @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @oxpogues4lifexo @babygorewhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayor-blog @starkeysprincess @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart

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dead-boys-club · 3 months ago

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† do you love me? : the fatui.

❥ scenario: their mute s/o asking if they love them. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested. [ my pending isn't updated, it's a liar. ]

you had thought over it for a while, curious as to where you actually stood with your lover, no.. partner? did they love you? as your curiosity grew to a sickening need for an answer, you decided to write your question down, small and neat; 'do you love me?' before approaching to hand the paper off.

❥ la signora.

as she took the paper from you, you'd be unable to read her expression, something that was awfully common. you couldn't help but become slightly anxious as a few moments of silence went by, giving her the time to process the question. you had learned that signora was a very complex someone, someone who was guarded and difficult to read, but you had grown to understand those things about her. when she finally looked to you, there was a warmth in her gave and she set the paper down, now folded in half. she wouldn't have much to say, a simple 'yes' being whispered, full of sincerity and adoration for you, even if her expression didn't match. she reached out to cup your cheeks, the touch tender with her gloved hands, and she leaned to press a kiss to your forehead. it wasn't easy for her to express how she felt but she would never allow you to live with doubts on how she felt for you.

❥ scaramouche.

unlike signora, scara's response would be heavily complicated. he would be reluctant to take the paper to begin with, his expression immediately showing discomfort and clear distaste. love had never been something that worked out for him very well, nor did he understand it as much as others - love was one of the reasons his life had been filled with betrayal and manipulation. he was wary of emotions to begin with but love held a different kind of weight - it was almost like the word alone left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. he would quickly narrow his sharp eyes, masking the vulnerability with agitation. 'what kind of stupid question is this?' it would have hurt you had their been any malice to his tone. even as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it away, you could see some type of softness slipping through the cracks. it would take time but after a few minutes, he'd glance to you, gaze softening slightly. 'i don't know,' he admitted, voice quiet as he decided to be honest, 'i don't know if that's something i'm capable of but.. i don't hate you, if that's what you're worried about.' for scara, that was the closest thing to a confession you'd be getting and you understood and accepted that. besides.. he was a lot better with his actions than his words, even if he didn't realize.

❥ childe.

childe is always happy to accept your notes, be it during full conversations, asking him about missions, and so forth. with that happy expectation, he took the paper, only to falter briefly before a warm smile formed. 'of course i do,' he answered without hesitation. he'd wave the little piece of paper between two fingers before setting it down, 'this is a silly question.' he wasn't being demeaning, just pointing out what he thought - hoped - was obvious to you. his arms would find their way around you, hugging you close to lift you off your feet with a soft chuckle. 'why would you even feel the need to ask that?' childe had always done everything in his power to make sure his love was open and honest, being hidden from no one because he never wanted you to doubt him. he would actually wonder if he'd done something wrong that lead you to asking but it would be put on the back burner for later. 'you're one of the most important people in my life,' he whispered as he set you down, pressing a kiss right below your ear, 'and, i'll always love you.'

❥ dottore.

you knew such a question could leave you with an aching heart but you'd prepared yourself before hand, knowing the day you agreed to be the doctor's lover, it may not be in such a manner. as he took the paper from you, he read over it with an impassive expression, which you'd expected nothing less. minutes passed as he worked through your question. love was not something dottore considered valuable - emotions, in general, were considered a hindrance to him. love, most of all, was the worst there was. the paper was set down without an answer as he returned to his work, leaving you lost and hurt, despite knowing this would be the outcome. you began to turn on your heel to leave when he glanced to you. 'love is a trivial thing,' he said coldly, almost bitter. 'it's a distraction and a weakness.' you stopped yourself from frowning. contrasting his words, as you looked closely at him, you found something - a hint of conflict that told you there was more he wasn't willing to acknowledge. dottore never was one to answer things directly but his actions - his way of keeping you close, keeping you safe and granting you attention in ways no one else was allowed - that was enough, you decided.

❥ arlecchino.

she would take the paper from you and take no time in reading it, her expression calm. she isn't brought to emotional response easily - you were sure you'd never seen her flustered. she set the paper down with a thoughtful hum before looking at you, her gaze gentle. 'love isn't something i give easily or take lightly,' she answered, steady and serious, 'but if i didn't care for you deeply, you would not be here.' in another of situation or context, you'd have taken the words as a threat but instead, they calmed any frayed nerves. arle's way of showing how she feels is protective and pragmatic, something that doesn't rely on cheap words. she wouldn't give flowery words or pointless gestures - but she would make sure you felt valued in your relationship. 'yes, i do.' she finally admitted, her tone leaving no room for doubt, even as she turned away from you. 'you are mine, and i protect what's mine.'

❥ columbina.

immediately going off of your facial expression, she knew she didn't need to read the paper to know the type of question you had, a gentle, knowing smile forming. columbina is the most attuned to emotions, her own and others, especially yours. she would quickly be able to feel the vulnerability and doubt behind your written word. without hesitation, she collected your hand in her own, making sure to hold your gaze. 'yes,' she said easily, 'i love you more than words will ever be able to express.' columbina leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. 'you needn't doubt that,' she whispered, letting your hand go only to pull you into a hug, her eyes closing, 'i always will, beloved.' her love was soft, open and nurturing, a presence that never ceased and you almost felt guilty for doubting her. she had done her best to make sure you felt cherished and adored and she would continue to do so.

❥ pantalone.

he wouldn't question why you were suddenly handing him paper but he would be curious, eyes shining with interest as he read the question. panta is a man who sees emotions as secondary to his ambitions and goals, especially with his wealth and power. however, he wouldn't hesitate to admit that you, are different. this may be something that lead you to thinking you were more of a possession than a lover - he would be smart enough to figure out where the doubt blossomed from. folding the paper neatly, he set it down and let a thoughtful smile show, turning his attention to you. 'love, like any valuable asset, is not something i take lightly,' he began, head tilting slightly, 'but you, my dear.. are more precious than anything to me.' reaching out to you, his fingertips brushed over the apple of your cheek. 'yes,' he answered directly, 'i love you, and i will make sure you never doubt that again.' like the others, panta's love is often expressed through actions - keeping you comfortable and safe, your happiness being of utmost importance to him.

❥ il capitano.

he would take the paper without a second thought, reading the words slowly and feeling the weight of them. it would take him a moment to find how to answer, knowing if he was careless, it would bring you unnecessary hurt. love has never been something capitano was accustomed to, not when his life was outlined and defined by duty, loyalty and the cold fate of a soldier. he briefly wondered if love was something he could feel or understand. would he know if he was in love? after what seemed like an eternity, he would slowly set the paper down and look to you, speaking just as careful. 'love is a concept i have little experience with,' he began, his tone apologetic, 'i do care for you, deepy.. your wellbeing, your happiness. i want to keep you safe.' his answer would be straightforward, almost as though he was searching through his own words. he wished he could use the same pretty, poetic words he'd heard in passing, but that wasn't possible. 'if that is love,' he nodded slowly, 'then, yes, i do love you.' he wouldn't be as confident in those words as he wanted to be but he felt as thought it was as close to what you wanted to hear as he could get.

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livelaughlovesubs · 1 month ago

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~ 01.10 - (whb) Lucifer ~

Dom!reader x sub!lucifer - reader is gender neutral

Warning: nipple play, lactation, dacryphilia, marking, objectification (a little), pet names, teasing, praise kink (a little), cumming untouched, eating cum (both), cum play, tongue kiss, mind break, sub-space, dacryphilia

~ Word count: 5.7k ~

Nini!rant: okay.. huh.. first one done, and it’s our beautiful luci

Kinktober list 2024

The sound of birds chipping echoed through the greenhouse, where you were enjoying some afternoon tea. Their singing wasn’t rhythmic nor melodic, yet it was calming and quite befitting the atmosphere. At least they served the purpose of breaking the silence between you and the person sitting across you. He requested your presence and had you come all the way to Paradise Lost, only to play house with you.

This was truly an awful experience, getting interrogated like this by none other than the strongest being in hell, the Lucifer himself. Though can you call it interrogation, when all he has done was staring at you through his bangs? At least the treats were good, you were able to distract yourself from the infuriating situation at hand. The smell of tea filled your nostrils, it tickled the tip of your nose. A single sip was all it took to bring a smile to your face, a pleased expression showing in response to the rich aroma of your drink.

All of the flavors were amazing and exquisite. It was just the right amount of sweetness to brighten your mood, and enough bitterness to keep your mind alerted. Despite the tense situation, or the lack of it to be precise, he was still the first creation of god. That’s a title worth fearing. The first light of dawn, the first angel, basically the one who has witnessed it all. It was a given that the pressure would linger despite the seemingly gentle atmosphere. No matter how he tried to mask this interaction up as a simple tea party, you were going to be careful around him. Better that than sorry.

You took another sip, feeling the warmth of the tea chase out the chilly sensations from before. Something was missing though, you were craving some milk with your tea.

The gentle sunlight felt like a warm embrace, a blanket that sheltered all of hell. If Gehenna had the same weather as here, then Leraye must be feeling pretty down. A soft smile formed on your lips at the thought of that sunshine of a child, and the corners of your mouth twitched ever so slightly. Lucifer, who sat opposite to you, observed your every mimic with a nonchalant expression, studying them even.

His messy hair, as bright as the light, shone alongside the sun. After a moment’s hesitation, he talked in his usual deep yet tender voice, one that could bring his subject to the brink of ecstasy, “For what my brother did, I want to apologize.” The first words that left his throat were apologetic ones, then he swiftly changed it to a firm tone, “I’d be willing to make up to you.”

Make up to you, he said. Was he perhaps trying to lessen the sins of his dearest ones? Now that’s an interesting offer, it caught you off guard and sent a chill down your spine. As if someone just pushed you into a pond. Nevertheless, you had to be careful, one wrong step could end up with your head rolling around, and you still haven’t decided on how dangerous that guy was. If we were to go by what Satan mentioned, it would take the power of all the six kings of hell to have a chance at defeating this guy.

With lingering doubts, you opened your mouth, replying after much contemplating and care, “Could you elaborate on that?” First, you needed to know what he meant by his words, to clear off any possible misunderstandings. To make up to you, it sounds like he owes you a favor. Of course, you despised that self-righteous angel for his deeds and sins committed against you, yet you would never blame it on someone not involved. His gaze shifted from you to his cup, staring at his reflection in the liquid.

He had a guess about how you must feel at this moment, hence his explanation, “A sexual favor is also possible.” Those words had an unfamiliar ring to Lucifer, it was the first time in eons that he used them. In a deep, hidden corner of his mind, he wished to know what you had done with his relatives. What was the saying again? Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives and came back satisfied? “You may show me what you did with my brothers.” He suggested, adding some information to his previous statement.

That would never happen, at least not now, not when you are in such a vulnerable position. Who knows what he might do with you after finding out about all the things you did, about how you made his brothers cry. Still you were intrigued, seeing this flawless… person— cry would surely be quite the adventure and bring forth a fitting satisfaction, even so, you valued your life, enough to not want to die a gruesome death.

The best way to get out of this mess would be to act kind and naive. You smiled insincerely, hiding your skeptic feelings behind a carefully crafted mask. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, there is no need for you to apologize.” A tone tender enough to make flower petals seem rough, paired with a bright smile full of rejection.

“Is that so.” The angel in front of you acknowledged your words, he used his arms to push himself up from his seat. Now that he stood up, you remembered how intimidating he actually was. Considering that he was incredibly tall, adding on the fact he also owned a fearsome aura around him. It was a feel unique to the seraphim, one that just reeked of unyielding pride.

Your finger clenched around your teacup tighter, awaiting his next move. “Follow me,” Lucifer said. It wasn’t a question nor was he polite about it, it was an order. There was no doubt he was an angel, some habits just never change. Though in all honesty? Every single one of his mannerisms reminded you of one. The subtly arrogance, how he seemed like he felt superior to everyone, the commanding voice, and the cold shoulder he gave you. Should you really follow such a person? What choices did you have, when it was a direct order from the avatar of pride?

Even so, you wanted to voice your concerns first, gulping down the knot in your throat. “Where are we going?” You tried to sound unsuspecting and cheerful, the last thing you wanted was to accidentally offend him. To be honest all you wanted was to run and escape this suffocating place. “To my bedroom.” He answered nonchalantly, as if that was the most normal thing in the world, to invite someone you barely knew to your bedroom.

One didn’t need to be a genius to guess what his intentions were, so you had to set the record straight right here right now. Who knows, maybe he will let you go if your preferences don’t align. That would be quite a nice outcome indeed. After mustering up enough courage, you stood up as well, looking him sternly in the eyes as you made yourself clear, “If your plan is what I think it is, then please pardon me. I do not wish to get intimate with a stranger.”

A stranger, you said. Right, that’s one way to describe your current relationship. Lucifer thought about your words carefully, looking for the right things to say to convince you. Your logic was understandable, it was the correct way to do it after all. Though he didn’t have time to wait for you to open up to him. The only reason why he wanted to share a night with you was to get Solomon’s descendant on his side, and doing it in the romantic, patient way wouldn’t do. For that, he was too jealous of Solomon to treat his descendants with compassion.

Besides this was hell, the most efficient way to get things done was simply through a sexual act. That way you can find out a lot about the other party. Long story short, he wasn’t going to heed your will. “I understand your point, though I fear I can’t accept it.” He began, and continued after taking a few steps in your direction, “If you wish, you can simply admire and touch me as if I’m merely an object. We don’t need to go all the way.”

Who the heck did he think he was, sure, he was a very prominent figure, but even then how could he disregard and disrespect your opinion like this. “No, I-” He glared at you for a split second, furrowing his eyebrows as he interrupted your sentence, “I won’t take no for an answer, it’s for hell.” Then his features reverted back to the neutral one. For a moment, he reminded you of a certain devil who was known for his bad temper.

With much complaining, you eventually gave up and agreed to his request, feeling a little cornered. “Fine, lead the way then.” You answered begrudgingly, forcing out a meek smile. Lucifer’s expression still didn’t change, he stared at you blankly for a second, before turning around and repeating the words he previously uttered, “Follow me.” How irritating he was, just like any other devil, or angel for that matter.

Not long after you found yourself slandering through the gigantic halls of his palace, it was decorated extravagantly in all the different shades of gold. Merely walking on such expensive-looking ground made you feel inferior. Wherever you looked you could hear the objects scream ‘broke’ at you. This wasn’t a treatment you expected in Paradise Lost, it sounded more befitting of Mammon’s castle.

On the other hand, it was to be expected that the resting place of every king must be of the highest quality, whether if they liked it or not, their subjects would arrange it for them in that manner. Despite you walking right behind him, you didn’t want to watch his back. All you did was curse about how everything unfolded. His shoulders were wide, paired with a slim waist to match. He was wearing a large suit jacket, yet he couldn’t conceal that fact. The way he walked was befitting his aura, rid of any hints of hesitation and full of precision. If someone didn’t know his position, they could still guess it, all due to his habits.

After a while, he finally reached his wanted destination, stopping in front of a room. You sneaked up next to him, still unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. There was not a single word you two exchanged during your little trip, causing it to be more or less awkward. Lucifer pushed the door open, turning the doorknob and stepping inside, of course, you followed shortly after. The inside of the room was even more lavish than the gorgeous floors outside. Each piece of furniture fit into the frame, all of them had their own designated place, and the way they were lined up implied someone meticulously planning all of it out beforehand.

You couldn’t help but be amazed, these rooms are more than what one could categorize as luxury. Sure, the other king’s palaces didn’t fall behind in any aspects, though you were still impressed nonetheless. To think you’d be allowed inside such a grandiose space… if this was Earth it must cost a fortune. All your initial impressions were washed away the moment you recalled his presence. How did you manage to forget, for even one frame of a second? The moment you noticed, you started keeping to yourself again, hoping you didn’t step out of line. Eyes weakly scanning the room, avoiding his gaze at all costs. What he did next was unexpected, so much so that you ended up finding yourself staring without knowing what to do.

He walked over to the bed, sat down, and began to undress.

The first piece of clothing to be dropped was his jacket with the white snake. Dropping it off onto the ground, then slowly unbuttoning his shirt. In your head, a million thoughts flooded you, especially because you were confused about what to do. When Lucifer started taking his dress shirt off, revealing his toned body, you decided you had enough and asked, “What’s this supposed to mean?” Without even thinking about it, contemplating what he wanted to say, he blurted out, “Seducing you.”

The way he replied was as if he saw nothing wrong with his deeds and choice of words. “Really now? Why would someone like you bother?” Despite a small fraction in the back of your mind having already expected this, considering his intentions were as clear as water, you still had a glimmer of hope that that wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t have any connections with Solomon like the other kings, on the contrary, he is envious of him. For a man like him to want to earn your favor - it sounds unbelievable.

“I simply wanted to try my shot, perhaps I failed already?” Lucifer questioned after seeing your serious expression, his shirt was loose now but not taken off completely. “Failed what?” You asked him, hoping that you could gather enough information to make sense of what was going on. “Failed to impress you.” The blondie said, without hesitation or a hint of sarcasm. Why would you want to impress me, was what you would have liked to ask, though your guts told you to stay quiet.

It’s a given that anyone would be in awe of him, considering how endearing he’s been the entire time. Even now, him sitting on his bed while flexing his muscles and that slim waist; every part of him was proof that he was sculpted by the loving hand of god personally. “No, that’s not the case..” you stopped mid-track, thinking about the possible outcomes for a bit, being hasty could cause backlash after all. If you praised him, he might take it as consent, but if you refused, would he get defensive? Was he a case like Levi?

Instead of pondering over this any longer, you took a gamble. Fine, since he wished to get laid so badly, shall you entertain him then? You walked up to him and hopped onto the bed as well. The soft sunlight still grazed your skin, the mattress sinking due to your added weight. “I’m plenty impressed, lucifer.” You had to show determination and sincerity, otherwise it wouldn’t bear fruits.

This wasn’t a lie though, he was very beautiful.

Your arm reached out for the male, finding yourself more and more captured by him with each passing second. Now that you were above him, he didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. Fingers intertwined with his locks, stroking him while giving him a big smile. It felt pleasant, that was his first thought. Like the warmth god showered him with before Solomon came. A deep sigh left him, bitterness suddenly intruded into the room, and the atmosphere proceeded to sink.

No matter how you tried to brush it off, it seemed like he was troubled. It couldn’t have been something you did, right? Nonetheless, you hugged him gently. Your hands were still wrapped in his hair, scraping his scalp with a tenderness he hadn't felt for a long time. You pulled him closer to you until you were both resting your chins on the other’s shoulder. His sharp teeth were dangerously close to your skin, but you tried not to worry.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, no one is forcing you, even if it’s your duty.” Your voice rang through his head, it brought forth a strange sense of comfort. “I’m doing it out of my own will.” He retorted. It smelled fishy to you, but you didn’t pursue it further. Eventually, he returned your embrace. “That’s comforting to hear.” So you replied, If you were to enjoy yourself, you had to make sure the other person wanted it too.

You took a deep breath, taking in his scent before exhaling. Your hot breath tickled his neck and before he knew it, you kissed his neck gently. The way you did it was as if you drew on his skin with your lips. One mark after another, planting them around him and corrupting him with your traces. He was taken aback, though it didn’t feel bad. At most, it tickled, which is why he let you continue, while all he did was breathing softly next to your ear. Each exhale blew some air against your skin as well, cheering you on to continue your actions.

Soon, your kisses turned into sucks, leaving behind more of your presence, proof and traces of this session today. The spots you touched would turn red shortly after, and persist for the rest of the day. How greedy of you, did you wish to mark him as yours?

“Child of Adam- uh, no, of Solomon… you, haaah.” He called out to you, hands lingering over your back. This was the first time you saw him hesitating to do something, he wasn’t sure if he had permission to crawl at your back. “Never mind.” Lucifer sighed and let you continue your little drawing session.

With time you also trailed off, going lower with your movements. All that persisted was a path from his neck to the middle of his chest. He sat up straight, only to get pushed into the mattress by you. His shirt was hanging off his shoulders as if he carefully orchestrated it this way. You hovered above him, hands releasing his hair and instead grabbing the sides of his torso. There you traced his silhouette with your hands until you were holding his astonishingly small waist.

It felt good, his skin was smooth and nice to the touch, also your hands fit in that place so perfectly, as if he was God's gift to you. Besides he seemed to like it as well, since he didn’t protest. Instead, his face started to flush slightly, alongside a sudden change in rhythm with his heartbeat. “I’m guessing I’m supposed to leave it all to you..?” Lucifer gazed up at you through half-lidded eyes, a slight, almost inaudible tremble underneath his voice. “That’s right, you told me I can treat you like an object.” You reminded him, he didn’t know if you meant it or not.

You started sucking on his nipples afterward, first licking the area and circling around it with the tip of your tongue, then flicking the wet muscle over his perky buds. His breasts were squishy and so pretty, you couldn’t help yourself. After taking a glance at his reddened face, you began sucking on his pecs. A shiver ran down his spine at the realization, face twisted into a pleasure-ridden expression.

This wasn’t a completely new feeling, since he did have experience with intimacy, though he was never the bottom. Or, rather, no one ever dared to top and grope him like this. You were truly beyond what a normal mortal was, having the resolve to touch him however you want without shivering in fear. At this rate, he might become quite fond of you.

“Do you enjoy touching me there?” He uttered, a breathy moan following close by. “I would do it if I didn’t like it.” You snapped back, a part of you wondered how you suddenly got the courage to talk to him like that. Was it because he’s under you? “…be gentle with me then.” The Blondie said, turning his face to the sides to avoid your watching gaze. “I can’t promise it, but I’ll try.” A teasing smile showed on your face as you uttered those words, eyes squinted slightly into a suspicious smile. “You don’t look trustworthy at all.” Lucifer mocked, though you ignored him and instead rolled your eyes.

Now that things have escalated to this point, the angel was wondering how far you two would go. Was this the end or the beginning, will he regret it in the end? “Ha.. uh-uhm,.” Occasionally, a sharp gasp would slip from him. Whenever you used too much force or pinched him too hard, the pain he felt would turn into pleasure and raise his libido, rendering him unable to repress his voice. Whatever this was, it must be what god wanted for him and his brothers, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't have created this feeling, this bliss and ecstasy.

You tried your best to stimulate both of his nipples, rolling the cute pink bud between your teeth. Red marks have plagued his upper area too now, and the amount was much more compared to his neck. A sense of pride filled you at your own achievement, or better yet, at this work of art beneath you. “Simply divine.” You uttered while gazing up at him through an adoring gaze, something completely different from only minutes ago. Then you noticed how his eyes were half-lidded, face blushing and lips parted due to his heavy breathing. A tired look on his face as he stared at you through wet lashes, or was it a needy look?

Who in the world would be able to resist such temptation, the temptation of the most powerful being getting all submissive for you. It has gotten increasingly difficult to resist this fine man, much harder than it was with anyone else. Without wasting more precious time and chatting any further, you switched your focus to the other one. You’ve ruined one side enough already, it was swollen and red while the other still looked pretty healthy. Wasn’t it time to abuse that spot too? Now using your hand to flick the previous one, while sipping on the other with your lips. Not long after he started making more sounds, resistance shredding entirely.

These noises were beautiful, absolutely stunning, they were like music to your ears. You listened closely while he whined and panted, feeling proud that you made him into the mess of a man. “HuuhH.. ha- hnng..! Wa-wait…” Something was strange, why did this feel so nice? Why was his heart racing so much, when it never happened with anyone but god? Not to mention how his body burned whenever your skin made contact, it tingled and felt giddily. Was it your charm, or because of the skillful touch of your hands? So many questions were going to be left unanswered, while his desire grew with each passing moment.

Suddenly you noticed something strange on your tongue, at the same time your finger seems to have touched a foreign liquid. “NghHhh…” Lucifer gasped as you pulled back, leaving his reddening nipples alone. His poor buds have been used and abused for so long, they were standing up all proud and hard. The same goes for the thing inside his pants, creating an obvious bulge between his legs. A dark spot formed where the tip of the tent was. You only stared at him, at his body, unable to comprehend the situation. What was that, you thought at first, then a bright smile crept onto your features. Was it perhaps what you thought it was?

The Blondie glanced at you a few times, before mumbling, “Why did you stop?” He couldn’t comprehend your actions, he thought everything was going alright, so why did you ruin the rhythm like this? There was no answer from your side, you remained silent. Right as he was about to ask again, you resumed your previous actions, flicking his nipples again which immediately yearned a yelp from the male. “Hmm-! UgGhh..” a watery and slightly milky substance dripped from his breasts onto your fingers. Exactly as you expected.

In the meantime, he was gripping the sheets as tightly as he could, to the point that his knuckles turned white. Surprise and amazement were written all over your face, he couldn’t quite fathom why you looked so excited, though before he got the chance to speak you basically answered him already, “Haha.. you are lactating, lucifer.” The words that came from your lips were foreign, it caused his heart to stand still for a second.

“Excuse me?” His pupils shrank, and he pulled such a silly and cute look of confusion as a response. Without further delay, you licked over his hardened nipples, and then another drop of milk stimulated your taste buds. “It’s delicious..!” You couldn’t help but compliment him, feeling overjoyed at this new discovery. Never have you ever experienced something astonishing as this, though if you had to be completely honest, it didn’t taste all that much.

Wait, hold up, explain- lactation? You mean him, lucifer, the good that fell from grace, was producing milk all this time? How his head spun, processing this information was too much for the inexperienced angel. Sure, he isn’t naive when it comes to intimate things, but he wasn’t this deep into it! Lucifer would have been longer lost in his thoughts if it weren’t for your rough treatment. Despite his inner turmoil you kept sucking and nibbling at him with a newfound fever, swallowing anything his body gave to you.

“Ahh…” the Blondie moaned, then proceeded to whine desperately, “Don’t be.. too rough..” it didn’t hurt, but it made him feel like he was on the brink of losing his sanity. All because of the weird pleasures and bliss he got out of this, he was reaching highs he never knew before. And you didn’t even touch him on his private parts, so why was he so sensitive?

“Is this how angel milk is made?” You asked him jokingly while rubbing his nipple in between your teeth, still playing with that poor body part of his. “NgGhhm..! Don’t ask- haaaa… stupid things..” God, his voice was so adorable it fuelled your want to ruin and bully him. All you wanted to do was to play with him until he didn’t have anything to offer anymore, until you sucked him dry. Just the thought of it was making you happy.

Pair that with the neutral but slightly sweet taste of his milk, you felt like you were in heaven. “I wish I had some tea to pair with your milk.” The bitterness of the tea would be compensated for with the sweet aftertaste of his milk. It would have been such a fine combination. His blush intensified at your comment, how do you always manage to come up with such unique ideas?

“Shall I request Buer or someone else to bring a cup?” This was only a teasing question, to provoke him. Yet to your surprise, he started crying and holding onto your sleeves. “No-.. don’t.” Tears akin to diamonds rolled down his cheeks, sparkling the entire time. Your heart jumped at his reaction. Like a deer caught in headlights, you couldn’t help but stare at him with a blank expression. Tears? Cries? You made the strongest being after god cry? What a satisfying feeling that was, you were captured by his beautiful, tears-ridden face.

Lucifer frowned and bit his bottom lip, embarrassed at his vulnerable state. Before he could wipe his tears with his sleeves, you kissed them away. Even you yourself didn’t know exactly why you did it. After all, this wasn’t because you couldn’t stand his crying face, because he looked beautiful while shedding those water droplets. Guess you just wanted a taste, to see if it was as delicious as his.. other fluids? You wanted to caress his face in that moment, to hold him and whisper all the dirty things you were going to do to him into his ear. This was similar to your experience on Christmas with his brothers, only ten times better.

How strange, he felt a certain kind of Deja vu at your tender touch. For one second, he could see the adoring caresses from his little brothers on him, hugging or holding his hand. Then he got reminded of when he first opened his eyes, when the love of god belonged only to him. “I want to taste all of you.” You whispered, pulling him out of his daydream again. On the other hand, you were almost shocked at how perverted your own words were. His sobbing quieted down slightly, and he looked away hesitantly. Lips trembled a little as a genuine, sad tear rolled down his chin.

“I’m sorry, that was too mean of me to say, to bring your subordinate into this as well.” You thought that was the reason why he was crying, so you quickly apologized. The blondie thought about your apology while you ate up his tears like it was a five-course meal, he clenched his eyes shut due to how close you were. “I’m alright.” He responded though the sobbing wouldn’t stop. Why? “..I hope that is the truth.” You eventually admitted, then caressed his face once again. If anything, you didn’t wish to hurt him.

After you resumed your earlier demonstrations and pinched his nipples, his sex twitched around, yearning to be freed. “Ah, it hurts.” Lucifer groaned loudly, his sharp teeth injured his own lips. “Is that all you feel?” You teased him. Tsk, asking something so obvious, you were playing games with him again, weren’t you?

“Be honest with me, Luci.” The sound of that nickname was weird, it brought forth unfamiliar sensations he had never experienced before. The angel still refused to elaborate further, since it was shameful for him. It would sound so weird if he admitted he liked the pain, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. That stupid pride of his…

All that silence was getting too annoying, you wanted his opinion. In the end, you nibbled on his buds again, stopping only to say, “I can see that you are enjoying yourself, the wet spot on your pants is growing.” A yelp slipped from him, finally a shocked expression was spread across his features. “Ugh.. why now?!” He seemed to condemn his own body, feeling ashamed at this vulgar sight of his. “Look, everything down here is so sticky.” You said while your hand crept lower, to grobe him through his pants. “MhhHm, is— is that so?” Huh, was he trying to play the naive card now?

You held your now defiled hand right in front of his face as if to prove a point. “Exactly! Look right here.” A perverse-looking liquid stuck to your fingers and palm, it made a squelching sound whenever you clenched your hand. “Ah.. ah.” He whined, to think that he produced this filthy thing..! He turned his head to the side, to avoid looking at it. Poor Birdy hasn’t been this ashamed for centuries.

When you noticed his embarrassment, you grinned again, then brought your hand to his chest. Then you smeared all of it onto his chest, causing everything to get all wet and sticky. “HnHhn..!? Did you just-..?” Lucifer turned around as soon as he felt his own precum touching his otherwise pure and divine skin.

If that wasn’t enough already, you had to go back to playing with his already exhausted nipples. On top of that, you were cleaning up the mess you made on his chest, swallowing his slightly bitter precum along with his milk. “It’s a pretty good substitute for tea, heh.” You commented, then stuck your tongue out for him to see the two fluids mixed together, along with your spit as well.

His mouth hung agape, half due to shock, half because he couldn’t restrain his groans. You took that opportunity to kiss him and stick your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around to make him taste himself. “MhmhGnnH..!! NHhH- uhHhnnn..♡♥︎~!” All he could do was moan into your mouth or choke out broken whimpers as more tears decorated the scene. Your hands didn’t stay useless and kept fiddling with his chest. This was too much stimulation for the poor angel, he literally saw stars as the mix of bitter and sweet danced across his tastebuds. The way you kissed him was rough yet pleasant, bringing forth an ecstasy completely new to him.

When you shoved your wet muscle down his throat, causing him to gag, a huge wave of pleasure coursed through his body. He shivered so much, shaking to the point you were almost worried. At the same time, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull as all of his moans got muffled by you. The only sounds slipping through were meek whimpers, barely audible to the human ears.

After you were done and you pulled back, granting him the privilege to breathe again, he looked like a total mess. Drool was hanging out of his lips, as well as something milkier in color. Strings of saliva were connecting his swollen lips with yours. A dazed look in his eyes, as if he didn’t bear a single thought behind those melting pupils. His face was covered in a layer of sweat and tears, his already messy locks stuck to his body like gum. You called out his name, saying it in a sweet and innocent tone. He didn’t answer you, only staring into the space like a used doll. Was he perhaps in sub-space? How adorable.

Your gaze coincidentally landed on his crotch, noticing how some of the white fluids were seeping through his trousers. Ah, so that’s what happened. This little angel here came untouched huh? Amazing, simply stunning. That sadistic smirk of yours returned as you yanked off his pants, holding back your laughter at the mess he made. You just had to taunt him for that, snarking at him, “Aww, did the big Lucifer cum from some touching and kissing? How humiliating, don’t you agree?” No answers, just a quiet whine did escape his throat. Good, he can still hear you.

“Such a mess you made, tsk tsk tsk.” You clicked your tongue, sarcastically shaking your head. After that you whispered sickly sweet, “But it’s alright, you will clean it up afterwards anyway, isn’t that so, Luci?”

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Men can lactate too, right. That’s something we’ve known for a long time. But only about 1/8 of men have the necessary requirements to produce milk. Because producing milk has something to do with the hormone levels, and it’s unusual for men to have enough to actually produce milk. Even then, it’d be a more watery consistence compared to the milk of a woman.

Anyway, to get a man to lactate isn’t as easy as it is in fiction. You’ll have to basically suck on the nipple, with a vacuum or mouth, for weeks (depends on the individual) for it to start producing small amounts of milk. Or in other words, constant nipple stimulation.

Another way is to take medicine promoting the needed hormones, or to starve oneself -> during World War II there has been records of prisoners lactating after starving and finally being fed. Many speculate it’s because of the dropping hormone levels due to starvation and the sudden rising once they receive food again. That’s why their bodies produced milk. (Pls don’t ask)

There are also cases where all this doesn’t apply and a guy lactates for no reason… then it’d be in your best interest to check it out with a doctor. It could be breast cancer after all, and this doesn’t only apply to guys, if anyone just suddenly leaks milk for no reason it could be signs of cancer.

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euaphoru · 1 year ago

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇!

★ — contents ! explicit sexual content: jjk men as camboys featuring you! breeding link, toys, sweet!gojo, switch!geto, mean!toji, husband!kento? mentioned, pussy slapping, smacking, smut overall!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GOJO SATORU

camboy!gojo who is the type of person to be very welcoming and greeting when he invites you over to his place to join him, he had already set everything up and led you to where he had the monitor set.

camboy!gojo who immediately gets into his character and proudly shows you off, bent over his lap while squeezing his forearm while his other his spreading your lips and showing the viewers.

camboy!gojo who asks the chat if he should let you cum, after overstimulating you the entire time with his fingers and the brand new toys he used in you. The comments are being flooded with everyone saying to keep edging you but gojo could tell you weren’t able to keep up.

camboy!gojo who whispered praises in your ear, reassuring you to give him one more, “you’re doing such a good job for me,” and “looking so pretty with your makeup all ruined”, feeling your hand clawing at his arm, realizing your about to cum, “that’s it…cum all over my fingers, baby.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GETO SUGURU

camboy!geto who was actually pretty nervous about meeting up with you at your apartment until he got inside and saw how cozy it was, so many plants and shelf’s filled with books—full of smut of course, and your sage burning on an ashtray. He loved the decor but not as much as when he entered your room full of your toys, like some sort of collection you had for fun?

camboy!geto who started the business as a guy with a mask in most of his posts, continuing on from that then later going on in his career, taking of his mask later in the year. This was your first time seeing him in person and god did he look so fineee. You tried to compose yourself and led him to the bed that was placed infront of the monitor. He took the lead by kissing at your temple and gripping your ass, giving it a light snack.

camboy!geto who had you both strip naked and had you on top of him, making him lean against the headboard while he motioned you with your hips to ride him, when did he get so confident? You thought, speaking too soon like you always do, you hear him let out whimpers while the chat gets flooded with “awhhh’s” and “let us hear him moreee!”

camboy!geto who tries to bite his lip to hold himself back from making any other noises— making you slap him, “don’t be shy, let them hear hear you..” you gesture, you lift your hips up and down at his hard-on, making him groan at the feeling at your warm walls squeezing him. “f-feels too good! ‘need more, pleaseee, princess.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TOJI FUSHIGURO

camboy!toji who had no shame and remorse towards his girls, he would be such a filthy beast in bed and never gave you time to catch up with him. Everything he did was for his pleasure and his only. Although with the way you had your lips wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t help but be so sweet— not all the way though, he still loved to torment you.

camboy!toji who had you in a 69 position, forcefully making you suck on him by smacking your pussy whenever you tried to catch your breathe, distracting yourself by reading the comments or looking back at him over your shoulder. “Nobody told you to stop, do that shit one more time and i won’t let you cum at all tonight.”

camboy!toji who got upset with your demeanor and pushed you on your knees and shot hot ropes of his cum all over your face, some slipping down all the way to your breast making you lick his cum of your body while making eye contact with the camera infront of you while he rams his cock inside you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ KENTO NANAMI

camboy!kento who was more professional and always did what his partner felt like, he didn’t like to have random girls wrapped around his cock— preferring his own girlfriend or wife being the one who was doing that.

camboy!kento who just started last month but blew up one night, people liking him for his voice and physic. His fans loved you the most though, whatever they put in the chat and asked you to do you would, making your view go up by ten percent and getting more subscriptions.

camboy!kento who loved when you would show the audience how much he would fill you up by opening up legs and watching his cum slip out your little pretty cunt, comments taunting him and asked if he had some sort of breeding kink— making him blush and step out of the camera.

camboy!kento who loved how he showed you off and how he didn’t care who watched, he mostly did it because it was a kink you had, voyeurism, but he secretly developed the same kink but he wouldn’t tell you.

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sugarlywhispers · 2 years ago

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s.kiyoomi + gf moments

☆— fem reader, crack, fluff

☆— a/n; i don't know what this is, i just had a thought and felt like writing it.. it could become a serie of events until the Sakusa Kiyoomi finally admits he loves y/n (?) idk, let me know if you like the idea😊

You have been best friends with Bokuto since you were young. Your friendship was so fun and purely like brother and sister that you even decided to move together once high school was over and your University period of life began. Even if you were very different in personalities, somehow you both worked together and couldn't imagine a life without him as your bestie-almost brother.

After some time living together, you got very used to seeing some people around the house almost everyday, his volleyball teammates.

First, it was Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu was the biggest flirt you have ever encountered in your life, almost to the point in which sometimes it annoyed you. In a good way though. He was a cutie.

While Kiyoomi was very chill and shy, he mostly kept to himself if no one bothered him; but he had the most snarky and filled with sarcasm answers for whatever antics Boo and 'Tsumu could come up with. You loved it.

Then Hinata Shouyo joined the team, and it was like a whirlwind uprooted everything in his path. He was the most outgoing and sociable and kind human being you have ever met.

And it all became like a routine. Everyday after practice, all of them would come to have dinner at yours and Boo's apartment. By this time, you already know all of them and how they all liked things and their meals. Especially Omi. He was a particular, rare especimen.

Bokuto had warned you before introducing him, how he did not like physical contact or how he wouldn't take off his mask if he wasn’t playing in a match or eating. He warned you not to feel offended or take it personal if he bluntly commented on how things were not clean enough or whatever.

But surprisingly, he had never looked down on anything in your apartment or even commented anything in front of you.

There was even one time he did comment in the middle of dinner, "I'm surprised how you maintain everything this clean and organized considering you live with Bokuto…"

"Hey!" Boo complained, mouth full of food, while everyone laughed.

That same night, Boo had pestered you about how the Sakusa Kiyoomi liked you. Of course, you couldn't believe it. The man barely spoke to you outside of those moments the team was present at your apartment.

It was until one night, when everyone came of course after practice to have dinner you were already cooking, when he did something you never thought he would do.

Of course, the amount of noise they made even before getting inside the apartment was a clear sign they were almost there. Shouyo and Boo always came straight to hug, picking you up and squishing you hard as a greeting. Atsumu would fist pump and wink at you before throwing himself on the sofa, of course putting some other volleyball's team match on the TV. While Omi would simply bow slightly with his head, not even getting too close to you, standing on the entrance of the kitchen.

By this time, you already knew and respected each one of them and their ways to show how much they appreciated you.

"It smells so good, Y/N," whined Shouyo as he entered the kitchen and made his way to the fridge to pick something to drink.

Omi was so quiet you have not realized he had followed the red-mostly orange-head and was standing at the door of the kitchen.

"I'm glad you think that," you smiled happily.

"He says that about almost everything. He would eat a bug and say exactly the same thing if he's hungry enough."

To say that you were surprised to hear his deep voice speak that amount of words was small. Yet, you couldn't avoid finding it funny how he always got the cleverest answers and dark humor. So you laughed, while Shouyo pouted, drinking from the beer he took from the fridge–it was Friday night after all.

You kept cooking, smiling and listening to how Shouyo complained to his teammate how evil he was with him when he was all nice to him.

"Alright you two…" you meddled, smiling happily at the incessant noise from everyone around, "If you're gonna keep arguing, you could at least help on setting the table, right?"

They both nodded while moving around to find what they needed, still arguing, but now about something else which sounded like Shouyo's height. Omi loved getting on Shouyo's nerves when it came to his height.

"What's that, Y/N?" Shouyo suddenly asked, signaling to a set of a plate, forks, a glass and a mug that were separated in a corner of the cupboard.

"Oh. That's Omi's," you said, your attention anywhere but said man.

"I don't remember leaving my stuff here," he commented, with no mean intention in his voice towards you.

"No, I mean… I know you don't like your stuff mixed with everyone's, so I picked a set I always clean twice and kept it separated from everything else. No one touches or uses that but you," you answered him, still looking at the food you were cooking over the oven.

Oh, God, kill me now, was all you thought as silence reigned in the kitchen.

But then, you felt a tall, warm presence behind you. You knew it was Omi, Shouyou was not that tall–he was only a head over yours, while you knew Omi was much taller.

It was the first time the Sakusa Kiyoomi got that close to you and it shocked you to the core. But what surprised you the most was when you felt his chin rest on your head comfortably.

"Thank you, Y/N," you could feel the vibrations of his deep voice and the rumble of his chest on your back saying your name, his entire dark but comfy aura so close to you, all you could think was how good it felt.

If you would have turned a bit to Shouyo's direction, you would have seen him with his eyes open wide, like those funny cartoons where their eyes popped off their face to express shock. Thankfully, he didn't say anything, he simply turned on his feet and flew from the kitchen to the living room where Tsumu and Boo were.

"You're welcome," was all you could say, almost a whisper, as he comfortably stayed there, barely a centimeter of distance between his body and yours.

If you weren't shocked enough by that, you definitely almost collapsed when you felt one of his fingers timidly caress your hand that was not holding the spoon you were cooking with, resting next to your hip. It had been barely a touch, yet the warmth and little tingling it provoked made you take a deep breath to gather your mind straight.

If you hadn't before, now you definitely were falling for this rare specimen.

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delusionalwh6re · 6 months ago

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neteyam sully headcanons

summary: how i think neteyam would be in a relationship

warnings: 🔞 this contains sfw AND nsfw content, you’re responsible for what you consume on the internet.

he’s aged up too before some of yall even start.

im sorry but these have to be literal facts…

- protective

THIS MAN IS SO PROTECTIVE OVER YOU

especially if you’re a human, be ready for him to just randomly pick you up or hold onto you like you’re a child

even when you’re na’vi and can easily stand up for yourself he doesn’t give a singular fuck

he will not hesitate to grab onto your waist and guide you where ever you need to go

“neteyam im fine”

“oh yes you are” he smirked at you

you couldn’t help but laugh at your man “will you please let me go? im literally just going to get water..”

“i know but i can’t let anything to my cute little sugar plum” he replied playfully

you pursed your lips and stared at him

“never say that shit again”

when he’s “jealous”

- he has that stern tone WHEWWW 🫦

- like if he tells u to do something he expects you to do it…

- and if you’re the “boy you not my daddy” typa girl, oh trust and believe all of that will change

“i don’t want you talking to him”

“we’re just friends neteyam”

“i don’t care, he’s obviously trying to court you”

“and who are you to tell me who i can’t be friends with? you’re not in control over me” you rolled your eyes

“not how it was last night” he crossed his arms

were you silent or silenced? 😕

-honestly i don’t think he’s the super jealous type

-like he’s not finna go bat shit crazy when he knows he has yo ass locked down yk?

-he’s definitely not afraid to put a mf in their place when they get outta line tho

his confidence 😍😍

- like i said, he knows he has you locked down

-even before you guys were together he was still confident in himself which is a reason why he got you in the first place

- he’s not the cocky type but he’s the “my girl ain’t leaving me for any of yall bums” type 😭

- he’s never afraid to show you off either

- when i tell you EVERYONE knows, they know..

- so him being confident in himself + your relationship = future marriage

his humor

- im so tired of some of yall trying to make it seem like neteyam is so innocent or has no sense of humor

- unfortunately we didn’t get to see much of him (james check ur walls tonight)

- but i just know this mf was funny and so out of pocket

- it’s always them quiet ones im tellin u 😭

- the two of you would have such a funny and just a fun relationship in general

- especially if both of you have a sense of humor which real bad bitches have

- i just feel like neteyam wouldn’t be with someone “boring” or “dry” you feel me?

- so the two of you have quite the time together

- the things you guys say to each other are so unhinged like…

you watched as neteyam fished

the way his muscles flexed and back tensed up whenever he prepared to catch his pray

you have never been so down bad for a man and you prayed to eywa that she never took him away (well…)

eywa had really blessed you with the most gorgeous man on pandora

‘i just wanna eat him’ you thought

“what are you staring at sevin?” he caught you staring

“have you ever had it sucked from the back?”

“THATS POSSIBLE?”

and

you and neteyam were playing around in the lab

you guys were minding your business until the two of you found this thing called a ‘face mask’

it was a slimy, cold and thick consistency

so the two of you decided to play with it after asking norm for permission

it was a mess at first but the two of you got it eventually…

the two of you had the black goop all over your face and of course the two of you couldn’t take it seriously

“you look like a really old pile of shit” neteyam laughed at your zoned out face

“shut up, you look like a sky person’s soul”

the two of you laughed at each other which made the mask crease but didn’t even care

he smirked and licked his lips “you should put some on your ass”

you smirked back “you should put some on your balls”

“only if you put it on for me” he rubbed your thighs with a goofy smile

“EWWWWWW” you giggled at him

his bond with kids 🥹

- now me personally i don’t fw kids like that it really depends but if neteyam wants to make our own clan im spreading my legs IMMEDIATELY

- you find the way he is with kids so adorable

- it honestly came natural to him since he was basically a third parent to all his siblings

- you would catch him playing with the kids in the village and felt your heart physically warm at the sight

- it lead to you having thoughts

- like how he would be with your own children?

- and when that finally does happen. oh eywa.

- he’s the best father ever

- no matter if you have a daughter or son first he’s so insistent on getting rid of the eldest sibling curse

- he refuses for your children to follow in his unwanted footsteps

- he loves his family and wouldn’t trade them for the world but he definitely wish he had more of a childhood

- this causes the bond with his children to be stronger than ever

- he’s so understanding

- your kids are never afraid to come to him about anything and he always gives them advice

- even when there’s subjects he’s a little uncomfortable with he never pushes his kids away

i want him to be my baby daddy.

when there’s an argument

- every relationship has ups and downs

- yours and neteyam’s had no exceptions

- you usually talk your disagreements out since it’s the mature thing to do but when there’s an argument…

- this actually doesn’t happen too often but when it does the both of you just let out that built up frustration

- it sounds toxic but the two of you actually find it healthy to bump heads every now and then

- the arguments never get physical

- which helps because at the end of the day when the both of you calm down and sit down to get your shit together, it’s so worth it

you made your way back to you and neteyam’s hut after the big fight you two got in this morning

to be honest you were dreading it

you knew you had to face neteyam eventually and running wasn’t the smarted option, you knew he would track you down if he needed to

you audibly sighed before opening the flap

he was sitting in front of the fire and turned his head at the scent of you

“hey” he mumbled while picking on his loincloth

“hi” you gave him an awkward smile

there was a silence growing

“im sorry” you both blurted out at the same time

the two of you softly laughed at that

“come here” he stood up and reached his arms out

you practically ran to your man to hug him tightly before the two of you settled down for the night and never letting each other go

warning 🔞: NSFW content starting below!!

this man’s mouth is FILTHY.

- yall think he’s so innocent huh?

- yeah no thanks im not buying that shit

- when he has you pinned down underneath him all that goes out the door!!

- he’ll literally be pounding yo shit while you grip onto him for dear life and this mf doesn’t make it any better

“pussy so good” he grunted in your ear

honestly you didn’t even hear him, it felt so good that you literally lost your common sense

“mhm neteyam” was the only thing you could moan out

“fuck” he let out a long moan as his thrusts started to get sloppier which meant he was close

your eyes rolled to back of your head and your jaw dropped as he picked up his pace

- all you could hear was

“i could stay inside of you forever”

“cum on this dick”

“you can take it”

“we’re not stopping i hope you know that”

“wake up for me baby so you can see me cum all inside you”

“i want you bent over after this im not done”

“you’re so pretty fucked out it’s almost funny”

UM HELLO???

there’s dirtier things than that but you guys can use your imagination.. 😏

- even outside of the bedroom this man has ZERO shame

- like if some goofy ass nigga was trying to holla at you neteyam is NOT with it

- this fool will be all up in neteyam’s face talkin about some “just wait until i have y/n, she’s gonna be all mine mwahahaha”

- all neteyam had to do was hit him with the

“well when you do let me know how my dick tastes on both of her lips”

- safe to say that wannabe kept his distance…

he’s a certified pussy devouring god.

- he don’t care whenever or wherever it is

- if he wants to eat he’s gonna EAT.

- he’ll put you on the ground, rock, sand, table, chair, ceiling, bed, mat, against the door, air, upside down, on the side, bent over, in a handstand, in a split, etc

- he does NAWT care. like at all.

- he loves eating that wap

- he loves the taste and scent of you

- like it’s an actual addiction

- he loves giving and receiving

- definitely giving more tho

- the way you squirm around, grip his hair and let out those sexy moans you do every time he hits that spot

-there’s literally been times when he came untouched to just the sound of you while eating you out…

- he doesn’t give a fuck how many times you cum, if he’s not covered in your juices then he’s not done

if there was a reward for best dick ever neteyam easily got that

- now let’s be honest… are we shocked?

- nope! #bbc

- like everything else in his life that dick game is top tier

- he just KNOWS what to do with it

- you never worry about him not hitting those spots because he does every single time 😫

- he can’t help but laugh at how you act on it too

- the way you let out a breathy moan as he slides into you

- the way you throw your head back when he throws your leg over his shoulder to thrust deeper inside you

- the way you had tears streaming down your face when riding him because he felt so much bigger and deeper in that position

- the way you throw your hand behind you when he’s blowing your back out to get him to slow down only for him to slap your hand away

- yall know that audio that says “dear diary, it’s now day 16 without dick and im starting to lose hearing in my left eye and taste in my right”

- that’s how you feel every time you and neteyam spend sexual time apart

- yeah that dick is powerful.

the aftercare. omfg HIS aftercare.

- after neteyam rearranges all of your insides he immediately tends to you

- he basically teleports to get a wet towel to gently clean you up with

- he’s placing kisses all over your ENTIRE body

- he never shys away with showing you affection in or out of the bedroom and now is one of those times

- he’s nonstop telling you “i love you” “you’re so perfect” “my beautiful girl”

-now you know it’s the bare minimum BUT wait hear me out!

- he makes it feel like HEAVEN

- he massages parts of your body while soothing you in a calm tone

- “you did so good for me” “took me so well mama”

- like boy stop before we go for round 69

- you cry almost every time he lets you know how special you are to him

- he literally thanks you for giving your body to him because you have no obligation to do that and he feels lucky every time you open up for him

your head hit the makeshift pillow underneath you with a soft thud as you let out a moan of exhaustion

“that was so” you stopped mid sentence to gather your breath

you heard neteyam chuckle at you. you turned your head with a soft smile to look at him

“that good huh?” he smirked positioning himself to hold you

“yes” you blushed hiding your head in his chest

he smirked “I can tell, i got you shaking like crazy”

you lifted your head up to glare at him “alright now not too much..”

he laughed at you as always before kissing your head and laying you back down on his chest. the two of you just soaked in each other’s presence. one of the favorite parts of your day.

actually it was your favorite

as you listened to his heart beat, you felt it pick up like he was thinking about something to make his heart race

you traced hearts on his chest “you okay love?”

“yeah” he said after a while

“don’t lie to me” you slid your hand up and down his abs

he stiffened as you did that before speaking up

“i think i just fell more in love with you”

you froze

“no, i know i just fell more in love with you”

you lifted your head up to understand what he was talking about

“i just fell more in love with you too” you smiled

he smiled “you don’t understand how perfect you are. i swear i want this forever. you always make me feel at home, you are my home. you’re the reason my heart keeps beating. i couldn’t have asked eywa for a better woman. honestly i didn’t even have to ask, she just sent you to me. which is how i know we’re meant to be”

a tear fell down your eye as he moved the hair from out of your face

you jumped up to put your entire body over him

he let out a short laugh as he happily opened his arms for you to take you in. the two of you made eye contact

the type of eye contact that can make you fall in love all over again

“i love you” he gave you the most cutest face ever

“i love you more” your pupils dilated

that’s when a hard smack land on your ass

“OH HELL NAH”

“we talked about that”

you rolled your eyes

“roll em again and see what happens” he tightened his grip on your hips

“what are you gonna do?” you teased

“give you something that will really make your eyes roll back”

you giggled and placed kisses all over his face

“seriously though, i love you more”

“y/n stop fucking playing with me”

“what did i do?”

“you know what, i love YOU more”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“i can do this all night baby”

- and the two of you went back and forth for a while before you eventually gave up realizing neteyam wasn’t gonna let it go

- you let him think he was right even though you knew the truth

- men smh

- you both went to sleep cuddling and kissing all throughout the night

- you couldn’t have asked for a man better than neteyam sully because there simply wasn’t one.

THATS MY MANNNNNNNNNNN

okay so i thought this was a pretty cute and decent place to stop 🥹

in my next life i will be neteyam’s wife. idc what it takes.

these are some of MY headcanons, you don’t have to agree! but i would like to hear some of yours

should i do lo’ak next? 😜

love, liana

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year ago

Text

Miguel and Hobie Fighting for Your Love

Summary: Both men knew they were wildly in love with you. But, as you remain oblivious to their feelings, their conflict strengthens. A war is brewing.

“I won’t let you have her.” Miguel’s eyes gleamed between the velvet sheets of artificial night, the dim glow of the control panel at his back, casting a shroud over his front. Hobie stood before him, gripping his guitar by the neck, resting it over the back of his shoulders. His other hand sat in his pocket, creating the illusion of comfort. Yet, beneath his lax exterior, Miguel could hear his heart pounding. Racing. Hobie drew a breath, looked off to the side.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Big Man.” Eyes half-lidded, he returned to Miguel, dragging his stare. Lethargy. Gave a thin smile. “Though, I suppose that if you knew that – really believed it – you’d know that you don’t stand a chance–”

Miguel’s fists clenched, the sound of his suit squealing beneath his grip causing Hobie’s gaze to flicker. He swallowed, shallow. He knew what Miguel was capable of – had seen how many lives he’d gladly put at risk for you. And he’d do it again if it weren’t for the fact that your friendship to both him and Hobie was what kept them locked in a stalemate; a spectral triangle; Bermuda. An anomaly in itself.

Of course, you had no clue that you’d captured the hearts of the two superheroes. The problem was that they did. Their softened attitude towards you, their care for the most banal of features of your life, their seemingly bottomless investment in your close circle of friends and beyond could have been construed as platonic concern. Friendship of the highest degree.

Once they realised that, individually, they were not alone in the pursuit of your heart, a competition was born. Miguel, ever the organised, careful individual he was, orchestrated your time together, manufactured it, monitored it – poured over it with a fine-toothed comb. Many a night had he spent awake wondering what your accidental brushing of hands had meant, whether the warmth that had flushed your cheeks was the result of his presence or the joke he’d just cracked, your laughter Calliopic. Persephonic.

He savoured every hug you shared, no matter how brief, sewing the patchwork memories into the fabric of his heart, the fragrance soaking into his bones. Your phantom warmth wrapped around him tightly, a second suit, whenever he needed it – needed you. He’d find ways of encouraging physical contact whenever he could, his heart throbbing at the feeling of your face pressed into his chest, your arms around his back as he embraced you.

He wondered what your kisses tasted like. Whether you thought of him when you used that chapstick he bought you, ice cream cake – the aroma of celebration. Because, to him, any moment with you was a celebration.

Miguel would offer to take you home after work. Though, not via ordinary means of travel.

He’d permit you to hop onto his back and slide your arms around his neck, taking you on a spin through the city, bringing you to the highest peaks, the pinnacles of human beauty through neon illuminations making the city sparkle like a sea of jewels. He’d feel his heart stutter as you shifted to get a closer look, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, cheeks just touching as you gasped, took in the scenery. In times like these, he was glad of the mask, of his ability to hide the effect you had on him, how you played his emotions like a string instrument.

“I’ve never seen the city like this before,” you told him, voice gentle at his ear, almost carried away by the wind. Miguel heard you. He strained his every spider sense to do so, no matter the conditions.

“Hobie hasn’t done this with you?” He tried not to let the hope in his tone show. You shrugged.

“He’s more of a stargazing kind of guy. Though, I’ll let you in on a secret,” your voice tailed off. Miguel leaned in. You whispered. “I think he just doesn’t want to go pivoting off buildings after a long day of already having done so.”

Miguel felt an idea spark in his brain. The start of a new ritual, routine, for just you and him. This would be for him what stargazing was to hobie – he’d bring you closer to the stars than Hobie ever could!

Whenever he’d return you home, whisking you through the midnight air, he’d place you at your door, imply what a good time he’d had. And, as always, you thanked him, eyes crinkling before parting with a hug.

Miguel would wait until you’d enter your apartment and locked the door behind you before leaving, and even then, he’d find himself perched atop a nearby building, waiting for something, anything to happen – for any opportunity wherein he could prove to you he was a hero. In times like these, he wished with a selfish heart that you lived in a more decrepit part of the city.

He realised how much he loved you – adored you – when you fell asleep in his arms after work one evening. He’d been carrying you to your room when you just nodded off. In his grasp, you were tiny, fragile. Weak. The responsibility of protection, the fierce need to watch over you, to possess you entirely, overcame him, overwhelmed every sensibility he’d cultivated throughout his life.

And so, he watched you. Eneamoured himself with your sleeping features, the trust you displayed to have fallen asleep on him. In his mind, this becomes a core memory. One which he turns into a joke between the two of you, his own fragment of sanctity – the beginnings of close friendship – one he’d use to build a statue like Hobie’s. A statue of you.

Hobie’s eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled as his lips turned up in a half-sneer.

“You think the odd hug and a second of eye contact constitute as…what? A chance?” He scoffed. “A signifier that she feels for you more than she feels for the common man?” Incredulity danced in hobie’s eyes. Seethed from between his lips. The corner of his lips pulled back, revealed a smirk.

“Get over yourself, Mate. If she were interested, you’d know it by now.”

Of course, Hobie had his own collection of memories regarding you, his own wardrobe of moments sewn together with the thread of mirth to wear and fashion whenever and however he so pleased. He would wear it out to parties, on the town, to the Spidey-Station (as he referred to it with you). Show Miguel that his bare-threaded ribbon was nothing compared to his tapestry.

You and Hobie would wander the city when it was late and dark and quiet, talking about anything and everything that crossed your minds, more often than not leading the two of you to howl with laughter, leaning against each other as tears flooded from your eyes. The story, regardless of how funny it had been, held no weight compared to the joy that sparked in Hobie’s chest whenever you touched, whenever you simply existed with him. Fireworks.

You got him in ways nobody else truly could.

Many times had he come to visit you, only to lay his head in your lap and tell you what was bothering him. Sometimes it was trivial, others it was not. And every time, you’d sit and listen, playing with his hair and the badges on his jacket. And, of course, Hobie did the same for you.

One evening, you’d come banging on Hobie’s door, voice distraught as you called for him. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he heard how distressed you were, and, when he saw you, his heart tore. Your face was tear-streaked and your posture gave the impression of anguish, immortal and unrelenting.

“Hobie,” you cried. “Am–” your sniffing diced your words like meat in a kitchen. “Am I pretty?!”

Hobie blinked, unsure if he’d heard the question. And when he didn’t respond, you wailed.

Hobie knew what this was, for you’d spoken about it at length many times before. Insecurity was a powerful tool, especially when fuelled with sleep-deprivation and alcohol, one which Hobie wished he could destroy. But, while he couldn’t do that yet, he reached for you and took you in his arms. And as you cried into his shoulder, he told you how beautiful you were, how surprised he was that he was able to get a look in with you at all with how many men were chasing after you. And when you tried to say that no such thing had ever happened, he pulled back, gave you a smile, the visage of mischief.

“That’s ‘cause I scared ‘em all away!”

Your veneer cracked, and a laugh sprung from the concrete, the beginnings of life in an apocalypse. What Hobie wanted to say, though, what he nearly said, was everything he felt for you – how no word in the human vernacular could ever even begin to comprehend or compare how ethereal you were to him, how widely his love for you encompassed his very being, everything he said, did and wanted dictated entirely by the thought of you.

He opened his mouth, holding you close again. He could say it all now, while you were drunk – pretend it never happened if the exchange turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t live with your rejection, even if you’d have no memory of it.

He closed his mouth, swallowed the confession that teetered on his tongue like a pill. Consumed his contemplation, obscuring his feelings from you for just a little longer. While he couldn’t say it – not yet – he pulled you closer still, chest-to-chest, one hand at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. A lover’s lock. And he held you. Tightly.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in every universe, (Y/N). I should know.” he murmured. He felt you nestle into him. You’d heard him. He sighed. “I just wished you could see it, too.”

Both men viewed the other as possessing some unattainable advantage, the beginnings of a fabled proverb blatant in their desire to attain what they thought the other had. What they were both striving for.

You.

For Hobie, the very thing he had prided himself on was his self-believed downfall. Friendship. The two of you had been friends for years, basked in a platonic limelight. Initially, Hobie hadn't needed to worry about how you viewed him, but as he fell deeper and deeper in love with you the longer he knew you, the fact that you’d maintained such a close friendship with him without once giving the indication of romanticism frightened him.

Miguel had only waltzed into your life a few months ago. You didn’t have to see him in a platonic light, didn’t have to bear witness to his deepest faults or his subtlest of quirks. Quite simply, you didn’t know enough about him for his mystique to be shattered.

On the contrary, Miguel saw how close you and Hobie were, how, without saying a word, the two of you knew what the other was thinking. He found your incessant asking of “Do you think Hobie would like this?” when visiting a store to be intimidating. He wondered if you asked the same when you went out with Hobie. If he was the subject of your concern as your best friend often was.

Whereas Hobie knew your every thought and desire, Miguel knew he clutched at straws by comparison, drinking in every detail you afforded him, taking nothing for granted. He’d bring you gifts, stories, regalements from his time out in the field, and his chest would swell whenever you watched him with wide eyes. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that your astonishment was confined to him and him alone. He prayed that your years of friendship to Hobie was enough to dull any excitement you may feel when he told you similar tales.

This war was simply beginning, no two ways about it. And as they surveyed each other, Hobie and Miguel, weighing up the other’s pull on you, their minds conjoined to speak once and for the last time.

“May the best man win.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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