#oh the things you do to me mark.............

[maaarine]

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[domjaehyun]

there's a stranger in my house (l.jn)

PAIRING. lee jeno x fem!reader 

GENRE. thriller, smut

CONTENTS. major character death, seriously dubious consent that turns noncon (please believe me when i say this), spitting, unprotected sex, fear play, oral (fem receiving), anal play, degradation, praise, biting, marking, ass smacking, mirror sex, non-consensual filming, choking, hair pulling (receiving), manhandling/strength kink, some role play 

WORD COUNT. 3.8k

SUMMARY. something’s not quite right about jeno, and you’re not sure what it is.

PLAYLIST. stranger in my house - tamia

NOTES.  hiii well. i can’t explain myself. important context is the movie “us” by jordan peele but if you haven’t seen it, i try to explain without explaining. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. happy birthday to my dear dear dear friend @renjunfocus!! i hope you all like it and don’t come tell me if you didn’t 💖 but if you enjoyed it, by all means let me know! 

“Jeno, please be safe tonight.” you say worriedly as he adjusts his costume in the mirror. “Halloween is scary; people are always doing something fucked up.”

“I’ll be as safe as possible, baby.” Jeno assures you, turning to face you with that crescent-eyed smile you love. “Plus, I’m literally dressed as a cop; they might think it’s real.” 

“True,” you hum, nibbling your bottom lip worriedly as you take in his appearance. “You look really… really good, Jeno.”

“Oh, yeah? Can I get a kiss for looking this good?” he asks hopefully, and you smile, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips, Jeno chasing after you as you pull back.

“There’s more where that came from when you get back home.” you promise, and he gives you a cute frown before straightening back up and smoothing out his costume one last time.

He pulls you into a hug as he always does before he leaves and when he comes back, and you breathe in deeply, his comforting scent of peppermint body wash, a soft musk, and baby powder enveloping you.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head and slowly retracts from you, a hint of reluctance in his movements.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he bids you goodbye, blowing you a kiss before exiting your bedroom and, you deduce when the front door shuts, your apartment.

You decide to get cozy in bed and wait for him to come home while you read a book you’ve been neglecting recently, but it’s only about thirty pages in before your eyelids start to droop and you find yourself curling up under your covers and drifting off to sleep.

When you wake up, it’s with a start, sitting straight up in bed when you hear the front door shut roughly. You wait for Jeno to make his way into your room, surprise and confusion filling you when he appears and—

“You changed your costume.” you point out, and he looks down at it as if he’s forgotten.

“Some girl spilled her drink on me at the party, so Jaemin loaned me his spare costume.” Jeno answers with a shrug, and you nod.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a grin. 

He chuckles as he draws closer to you. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod encouragingly. “The robber thing is kind of a 180 from the police officer, but it’s really hot… kinda makes me a little flustered.”

“Oh, really?” he teases, and you nod again, slower this time. 

“The ski mask is a good touch; kinda scary, too.” you compliment, and his gaze darkens as he looks down at you.

“Are you scared, then, baby?” he questions, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Hm? The big, scary robber’s making you nervous?”

“Oh, yes, mister robber, sir, please! You can take all my money, just please don’t hurt me!” you plead, clasping your hands together and blinking up at him through your lashes.

“It’s not money I want, sweet girl,” Jeno growls through his ski mask, his voice muffled but still so convincing and deeply unsettling that you feel apprehension creeping up on the back of your neck. “Sit on the windowsill,” he grunts, jerking his chin towards the bay window beside your bed, and you climb to your feet, obediently moving to sit at the edge of the windowsill. The seat is cold on the backs of your thighs, making you wince slightly, and you find yourself drawing back in fear as Jeno stalks towards you and stands before you, practically looming menacingly over you.

He slams his hands down on either side of you loudly and suddenly, making you yelp in panic. “Relax,” he purrs, lowering himself so he’s eye level with you. “So pretty,” he rasps, tilting his head to the side as he watches you, but the compliment fails to warm your cheeks the way it usually does, because this time, it sounds… foreign and unfamiliar to you. It’s a type of observation Jeno’s never demonstrated before, your loving boyfriend usually eyeing you with adoration, love, or fondness in his eyes. Tonight, it’s different. It’s almost… sadistic in its fascination, as if the flashes of fear behind your eyes are fueling him somewhat.

You’re so focused on decoding the entirely unsettling look Jeno’s giving you that you don’t notice one of his hands sneaking up behind your back until his fingers are looping in the locks at the base of your neck and tugging your head back roughly. His eyes darken at the flash of panic and pain across your face before he’s ripping the ski mask off and practically smashing his mouth against yours, kissing you more ferociously than he ever has before. He’s all sharp teeth and forceful tongue, the wet, thick muscle bullying its way into your mouth as you whimper for mercy. His tongue swirls around the inside of your mouth possessively, coating every last bit of it with his saliva like he’s marking his territory.

He pulls back slightly before spitting directly into your mouth just as you go to gasp for air. You promptly choke on his saliva, coughing and spluttering pathetically as tears spring to your eyes. You’ve barely recovered before Jeno stuffs two fingers into your mouth, parting them in a V so your lips are stretched horizontally, and he wags his tongue lewdly in the open space of your parted lips, licking against your tongue with long strokes punctuated by guttural grunts of delight. 

He spits once more, a long drop of saliva landing on your tongue, and you whimper in protest, shaking your head in refusal.

He cups your chin in his hand with a firm, almost too tight grip, staring you down challengingly. “Swallow it. Take my spit in your mouth like the good little slut you are.” 

You blink back tears of confusion and hurt as you do just that, swallowing his spit, and he smiles, pleased as he pats your cheek roughly.

“Good.” he grunts, releasing you and knocking your legs apart with two quick slaps to your inner thighs. He drops to his knees between your thighs and yanks the straps of your satin nightie off your shoulders, tugging the fabric down to reveal your bare breasts. He pinches at one nipple, twisting until you squirm away from his touch. He latches onto your neck, biting roughly and sucking harshly and working his way downward until marks are blooming all over your sensitive, buzzing skin.

When he gets to your breast, he looks up at you, studying your reaction when he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as he can fit. You hiss in surprise and move to push him back slightly, finding yourself overwhelmed by the intense sensations, but he snatches your hands out of the way, linking them together in his larger one before trapping your hands between your legs. He sucks on your nipples roughly, rapidly flicking his tongue over the buds and even nipping at them every once in a while, and you can’t tell if you want to moan or cry.

After what feels like ages of inner turmoil, he releases your breasts from his greedy clutches, your nipple slipping from his lips with a loud, wet, pop sound. He leaves a trail of bite marks down from the underside of your breast to your stomach, where he sinks his teeth into your flesh so roughly that you fear he’s aiming to draw blood. He pulls back when there’s a clear indentation of his teeth on you, marks that are sure to bruise, and spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. 

“Been dying to taste this pussy,” he grunts under his breath, and you swallow thickly, watching him warily as he drags his tongue up your folds forcefully. Spreading your folds apart with two fingers, he prods the thick tip of his tongue against your entrance. You gasp in surprise when he slithers his tongue into you, the muscle fat and long as he moves it around along your inner walls. “Delicious,” he groans, dragging his tongue over your hole and relishing the way your hips jolt.

When two thick fingers push into you without warning, a weak moan falls from your lips at the surprise of the stretch. Jeno grins cockily, and it hits you what’s different: there’s a hollowness to his every emotion, like there’s a lack of… humanity to it.

Something about him is off; he's not acting like the man that loves you. He's touching you with the desperation of a man that's never had you before. He even smells different; like smoke, ash even, and something metallic and dark. What clues you in the most that this is not your boyfriend is that his signature scent, his personal blend of musk, is nowhere to be found. This man smells tangy, sharp, and strong, a heady blend but most importantly enough, not your boyfriend's blend.

This man is not Jeno.

“Um,” you pipe up tentatively, and he takes a minor break from licking at your core to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you?”

With your question, the energy in the room shifts completely; a smile nothing short of sinister appears on his lips, and there’s a wicked glint in his eye that has you clutching at the windowsill.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, and there’s an attempt at tenderness, but it all feels so deceptive, like he’s pantomiming an emotion he’s never experienced. “You don’t recognize me?”

“No,” you say breathlessly. “You’re not Jeno.”

“Smart girl,” he replies before lowering his head to return to eating you out. When you start to close your legs from fear and panic, he growls threateningly, the sound guttural and unnatural, and moves faster than you could’ve thought possible. He pushes the bay window open behind you, the bottom of the window swinging out, and forces you back and down until your torso dangles precariously from your tenth floor apartment unit.

“If you make any wrong moves, I will drop you.” he threatens, and you whimper in terror, the wind chilling your cheeks and rushing through your hair as you dangle, contorted partially upside down, at the mercy of this man who looks just like your boyfriend yet behaves like anything but. “Unless you’ve always wanted to paint the concrete with brain matter, I’d stay still.”

You nod vigorously in understanding, letting your trembling thighs fall apart once more, and he hums appreciatively.

“Like I said,” he remarks as he attaches his lips to your clit, “smart girl.” He sucks roughly at your sensitive bud with lewd moans and wet smacking noises and if he can hear your sniffles and whimpers of fear, he doesn’t comment.

The hand not keeping you in your life-threatening position strokes against your folds, parting them and pushing two fingers back into you, starting to pump them in and out.

“I’ve been waiting for this for too long.” he mumbles against your folds before proceeding to sloppily make out with your core, tongue slurping and licking at every drop of arousal that drips out of your poor hole. “Waited in the shadows, listening to that bastard fuck you every night—”

“Every night?” you gasp, and he chuckles darkly.

“I’ve been watching you both for some time now.” he informs you, fingers moving in and out of you while he speaks as if it’s the most casual conversation in the world. “He was a real fucking soft guy, huh?” 

“Was?!” you squeak in alarm, and he laughs loudly, fingers speeding up cruelly and hooking into your g-spot, making it abundantly clear to you that you’re about to cum, whether you like it or not.

“Oh, he’s not coming back, baby,” he says with an audible grin, malice laced in the pet name he so evilly threw back in your face. “Unless anyone at that Halloween party can perform open heart surgery.”

“Oh, my God,” you whimper, and you’re not sure if it’s from abject horror or your rapidly approaching climax. The unmistakable sounds of his fingers squelching in your arousal fills the inside of the room, loud enough for you to hear it from your precarious pose halfway outside. “Please, you have to stop, I don’t want to cum—”

“Do you think I give a fuck what you want?” he spits back at you, and you flinch at the venom in his voice. “All my life, we’ve been forced to mimic you all up here like puppets while you get to do whatever the fuck you want. Now it’s time to do what I want, and I? I want you to cum all over my fingers and my tongue.”

“Please—” you whisper, and he shushes you, the sound adjacent to something close to loving, but lacking any real sympathy; he must have heard Jeno soothing you at some point and mimicked the sound to the best of his abilities. 

“Cum, baby,” he urges, fingers pistoning in and out of you rapidly before he curls and fucks them directly into your g-spot and brings you to a powerful climax that you wish you could explain away to your guilty conscience. His lips wrapped around your clit, he sucks hard and flicks his tongue over the sensitive bud as you ride out your high against his face. 

When you’ve recovered somewhat, he looks up at you with a wicked grin, lips still glistening with your arousal. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he taunts with a sly grin, and you just sniffle forlornly in response. “Get up, baby—wanna feel that pussy around my cock next.” He pulls you up unceremoniously, shutting the window behind you and guiding you to the bed. He plops you down on the mattress and hovers over you, encroaching on your space bit by bit until you’re lying with your back on the bed and your legs are reluctantly spread to welcome him in. “You scared?”

“Yes,” you whimper, and he pouts at you, not a hint of sympathy in his expression. 

“Good.” he chuckles darkly before lining his thick tip—thicker than Jeno’s—up with your entrance and pushing into you with one fluid motion. You grab roughly at the sheets at the intrusion, gasping out loudly, and he seals his mouth over yours to silence your cry of surprise, tongue pushing into your mouth and licking into it filthily. “Relax, you’re never gonna take it well if you don’t relax.”

How the hell am I meant to relax when you killed my boyfriend and are in my home about to do Lord knows what to me? You think, but you refrain from mouthing off just yet.

He pushes down on your lower abdomen, groaning in delight as he feels the bulge of his length dragging along your inner walls, and you let out a choked-off squeak as he stretches you to your limits and fills you impossibly deep. 

“That’s it, pretty little thing, feel me nice and deep right here,” he growls, starting to move his hips faster to fuck into you at a gradually building pace. His hand slides up your stomach to twist your nipple before continuing up to cup your chin and turn your face towards the mirror by the door. You shake your head vigorously, not wanting to see yourself like this, but he holds fast, practically smushing your cheek into the comforter. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.” he urges, and you whimper in protest. 

Your face looks nothing short of fucked out, and he’s just gotten started; your eyes glassy with unshed tears, a few tear streaks sliding down your cheeks, and your jaw feels permanently dropped open as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. His sinewy arms hold you in place as he bullies his cock into your tight hole and his abdomen tenses with every thrust, tight muscle tensing and flexing in a regrettably attractive way.

He reaches in his pocket and takes out his phone, holding it up and aiming it at you. “Smile, baby; you’re on camera.” You reach to cover your face and chest immediately, crying out in protest when he snatches your hands away. “Don’t tell me you’re camera-shy,” he taunts cruelly. “That loser never filmed you two fucking?” 

“No,” you say pleadingly, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Sight as pretty as this can’t go to waste.” he decides, moving the phone closer to your face. Fresh tears spill forth, and he licks his lips slowly, watching one tear in particular drip down your cheek before leaning down and licking a fat, wet stripe up your cheek where the tear track was. “God, and now you’re crying—it’s like you’re trying to make me cum.”

“No, I’m not, please, I’m not—” you beg, and he shushes you impatiently, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yes, baby, you’re gonna make me cum nice and deep in this tight little pussy—gonna fuck you full of my cum—” he grunts, and you squirm under his hold desperately, fighting to get free. “That’s it, struggle a little bit for me—so fucking hot,” he mutters before bringing his forearm to your throat to press down harshly, constricting your airway. “Not too much, now—don’t want you getting away from me.”

“Please—” you croak out, struggling to breathe. “Can’t—breathe—”

His smile only widens and two things dawn on you: one, he could very well kill you right now, and two, there’s no way in hell you’re going down without a fight.

You reach up and claw at his forearm, scratching as hard and as deep as you can, and to your alarm, he grins widely, even among the wince in his expression.

“Love that little fighter in you.” he growls, pressing down harder, so hard you fear it might bruise. “Can’t wait to break it.”

Your vision starts to cloud, black spots forming in your line of sight, and you can feel your consciousness slipping away from you even as you try desperately to remain awake and free yourself. It all proves to be in vain as you slip away from this world, barely able to hear his faint murmur of “That’s it,” before you pass out completely.

When you come to, your throat is sore and you can’t move your body. Your vision spins as you take in the sight of your bedroom, eyes squinting reflexively as the glare of the television hits your retinas.

You turn your head this way and that only to see, to your horror, that your hands and feet are tied to each bedpost with thick, coarse rope. No matter how hard you tug, there seems to be no breaking free, and panic creeps up your still hoarse throat, hot and thick and dully aching. 

The television catches your attention once more, your mind focusing on it in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you watch whatever’s on, your brain catching up quickly.

“...in what reporters everywhere are calling the ‘Doppelgäng​er Takeover,’ recent news has shown that people are being viciously attacked and some even killed by someone that looks exactly like them. If you see someone behaving not quite right, stay back and do not approach; they are known to be violent and highly dangerous.”

Your breathing hitches and starts to shallow rapidly as you start to hyperventilate, tugging harder and harder on your restraints. 

“They won’t budge,” Jeno’s voice calls out, and you flinch, whipping your head around to find the source of the sound. Jeno emerges from the hallway, now clad in a short sleeved black tank top and dark gray sweats. “You can thank Jeno’s mom for that; she signed him—and therefore me—up for Boy Scout training when we were eight.” He steps further into the room, dark piercing eyes scanning your frame trembling with fear. “Her precious Jeno never quite got the hang of the knots, but me? I mastered them.”

A terrified whimper slips from you before you can stop it, and his lips quirk up into a wickedly delighted smile.

“What should I, um…” you swallow thickly before continuing, “call you?”

“Jeno.” he replies easily, and his keen eyes catch the almost imperceptible grimace that takes to your lips at his answer. 

“What are you going to do with me?” you ask worriedly, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I’m going to keep you.” he states plainly, and your body stills entirely, fear igniting in your bloodstream and leaving you close to paralyzed. 

“What about my doppelgänger?” you question, not knowing what answer could possibly make you feel better at this point.

“I got rid of her.” His answer is simple again, and you suck in a breath of surprise. “She’s not as fun as you.”

“Fun?” you croak, and he nods, a gleeful smile on his lips as he nears the bed slowly.

“Doppelgängers are essentially a ‘crude’ copy of the ‘original’ person,” Jeno explains, making one-handed air quotes around the words he spits with disdain, “and only the ‘original’ person has a soul.” 

“So… so that means—”

“I don’t have a soul.” Jeno confirms with a hollow laugh made all the more terrifying now that you know he’s literally hollow spiritually, devoid of humanity. “None of my people do.”

“And you want my soul?” you ask fearfully, and he snorts in amusement, shaking his head.

��You really are cute, you know that?” he chuckles. “I’m not going to take it from you,” he says, waiting until your body slackens with relief to add, “I’m going to break it.”

“What does that mean?” you whimper, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Jeno, what do you mean?”

“I want you to understand that this is your reality now. I don’t want there to be any fight left in you at all. But you people are like that… hopeful,” he spits the word with disgust. “Your spirits are like a fire that won’t go out. Every once in a while, there’s a little,” he pauses to scan your face, eyes brightening with excitement when he catches sight of your eyes, no doubt reading the fear, fury, and desperation you have to save yourself— “ember… that sparks up, and I’m going to be here to snuff yours out every… single… time.” He’s close enough to bring his mouth to your ear, lips grazing the lobe and making you shudder with revulsion. “You’re not going anywhere unless I say so.”

You don’t say anything, setting your jaw firmly and staring straight ahead to ignore him. Maybe he’ll get angry enough and kill you, putting you out of your misery.

“There’s that little fighter,” he remarks with fascination. “I saw a hint of it earlier when I was choking you; that fight to survive, to live—you fucked my arm up pretty badly, I was impressed.” he remarks, extending his arm to show you the deep, angry, red cuts clawed into his forearm he’d wrapped around your throat just hours ago. His other arm emerges from behind his back, and your eyes widen when you see a Hitachi wand in his hand, his thumb already resting on the “on” button. “I am going to have so much fun breaking you.” he rasps with unrestrained excitement as he turns the vibrator up to the highest setting.

well.........congrats for making it to the end!! *insert obligatory "i definitely don't think jeno's like this" part that technically doesn't need to be there considering that wasn't jeno* i hope you liked it and if you didn't.... well sorry ig tune in next time for a lovey dovey fic 💖

[rebloggingoriginalcontent]

Oh, yeah, when I was a minor I 100% lied about being an adult all the time. I don't regret it and I don't think it was a bad decision.

Do you know what I DIDN'T do?

Make romantic overtures to people online - ever

Read or watch anything that was marked "adults only" unless I knew it was safe for me (and stopped if I realized I'd been wrong)

Search words that might return results that made me upset (and hit the back button immediately if I saw something weird)

Talk to anyone who said they didn't want to talk to minors (because that would be rude!)

Talk to people in private messages unless I'd been talking to them for a long time in public forums, and even then we'd only talk about familiar things

Here's why I lied about my age, even though I didn't like lying in general:

I was taught internet safety, including the fact that some people target minors differently from adults (so I didn't admit I was minor)

I was at no point ever in a situation where it was anyone else's business. If it became someone else's business that usually meant I didn't want to be in the situation.

Many websites I liked were age-locked - even though I wasn't using them for anything inappropriate for children

And, most importantly:

I absolutely did not care what STRANGERS thought I should do on the internet. What are you, my mom? I'm not your responsibility.

Please. Please. PLEASE. Note that I was taking care of myself. I was being safe. I was obeying my parents. I never once had a poor experience with a stranger, except in the sense that I met rude people.

I was a good kid. A scrupulous one, even!

I was good according to the rules I cared about - not arbitrary internet rules.

There's something that I find equal parts hilarious and terrifying.

On one hand it is so funny watching the generation previous to mine (I was born in 84) absolutely say the most unhinged shit online, doxx themselves, and get fired, after spending my entire childhood teaching me online opsec because every stranger was a potential murderer. Social media done rotted their brains.

But on the other I'm seeing kids coming up, seeing them spew all their personals online, and using that to model their unsafe behavior and put themselves at incredible risk because the internet actually got way more dangerous than it was, ironically, when I was coming up being told I had to basically outsmart the fuckin CIA. Now the actual CIA and other bad actors (government, private, and individual) really are out there and these kids are watching fucking meemaw post a photo of the front of her house practically captioned with her fucking SSN and thinking, "yeah, sure, the adults know what's safe."

I gotta be a fuckin millennial about this and beg younger folx to listen to the VCR generation: hide yourself online. Nothing should go there you wouldn't want in the hands of the person who hates you the most.

Be safe, be smart, be a fucking ghost.

[mattslolita]

Chris fucking Bambi in the empty locker room after her volleyball game

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

"o-oh, chris, don't stop, please..."

the rattling of the lockers in front of you both were loud enough for anyone to notice the current events taking place — but chris didn't care. the only thing consuming his brain was how your gummy walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, your back arched against the bench as he lands a smack to your ass.

"takin' me so good, angel, fuck," chris groans, speeding his pace, grip on your hips so tight it was sure to leave marks.

"m'close," you whine loudly, holding onto the lockers for support, "oh, right there..."

chris's breath fans the shell of your ear, his loud grunts going straight to your core as he nibbles on your earlobe — his hips snap forward, cock brushing against your cervix deliciously as he rams into you. at this point, you didn't even care if someone saw you both; the idea of someone watching turned you on, if anything.

his hand goes down to your dripping pussy, rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit as he continues his assault on on your pussy.

"g-gonna cum," you babble out, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"thas' it angel, cum f'me," chris growls, "fuck..."

you didn't need to be told twice — your orgasm washes over you, legs spasming as you cum around his cock, your liquids leaving a white substance on his mushroom tip. chris's eyes possessively narrow at where your bodies connect with each other, reveling in the fact that it was only him who got to make you feel this good.

"shit gonna fill you up, ma," chris moans, his thrusts getting sloppier, "ah, shit..."

his cock twitches inside of you, milky white essence spilling out inside of your velvety walls, painting them white. lewd moans spill from both of your lips, riding out your highs. chris pulls out of you, his cock falling limp against his stomach as you both catch your breath.

you turned around, smiling at him shyly as he removes a sticky braid from your face, swear coating your glowing features. "do they have paper towels in here?"

"mhm, they're right by the sink!" you tell him as he's pulling his pants back up, nodding.

he quickly leaves to wet some paper towels, and you hurriedly put your shirt back over yourself. when he comes back, he gently holds you in place as he dabs in between your legs with the paper towel. you giggled slightly as you watched him, running your fingers through his hair as he concentrates on cleaning you up.

"alright kid, put these back on so we can go," chris instructs you, holding your volleyball shorts up to you.

you give him a confused expression as you take the shorts, tilting your head slightly. "thanks baby but i'm, where are my underwear?"

a sly grin fixes it's way onto chris's lips as he fishes them out of his back pocket, dangling them in your face causing you to gasp and shake your head.

"you perv! you're buying me new ones."

"don't even have to ask, mama," chris smirks, running his hand along the stubble on his jaw, "now let's go, i got still got one more surprise for your first place."

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

(okay I genuinely have no idea how this got posted bc it was just saved in my drafts but this isn't finished yet 😭😭 I'm working on it and it will hopefully be done soon)

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

[boofeine]

things that get svt vocal in bed

hello, this is (once was) @wannabelife :/ my acc got suspended, and now im trying to start new on this blog. consider this my first post all over again ig...

WARNINGS: smut headcanons, general reader, mdni

a/n: finals are all done, im baaack fr 🫡 requests are open

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

seungcheol gets wrecked with a little bit of pain. nothing too crazy; the grip you have on his biceps, your knuckles white that will leave red marks in his skin later is more than enough to make him lose it. he goes insane when you pull his hair and neck, and scratch his back and abs.

jeonghan loves to hear you, be vocal for him, and you will hear back from him. the little whines of his name you let out makes his cock harder, the low groans making out of his lips as he watches you squirm and moan for him.

joshua loses it all with the skinship. hug him close, press your bodies together tight. he loves how your hard nipples stroke agains his, and your sounds are beautifully on the nap of his ear.

junhui loves when you move to meet up his thrusts. the way you roll your hips onto his while moaning, losing yourself, more desesparate to chase your high than anything else. nothing else matters, makes his hips hault because of you.

soonyoung gets crazy under pressure, truly just push his bottoms "is that all you got?" and he will keep doing a better job each time. he fucks you so good that he, himself, cant believe it feels that amazing, his moans louder and sweaty skin.

wonwoo is only mewling if you edge him, that's the only way you will be hearing those beautiful low husky moans. the overstimulation kicking in, his head going back as he lets out the nastiest moan from the back of his throat, eyes shut.

jihoon is most vocal when you give him head. you will hear him throughout the whole thing, but he gets louder when you look up at him. your gaze fixed on his, his face twisted in pure bliss and plesure, as your mouth is full of him.

seokmin feels he's about to bust his balls when you praise him. "so good, oh my god, you're perfect" "you fuck me so good, im gonna cum" "like that" your sweet words, making him twitch, his lewd moans almost music to your ears.

mingyu gets weak when you take over, rolling his body to the side as you crawl to sit over him. your hands going behind your back, finding stability at his thighs as you ride him with the sounds of him whiny crying out your name.

minghao loves the dirty talk. the way you get bratty and challenging with your words makes him lose it completely. gets him on the edge, grunting and groaning, fucking you restless.

seungkwan also gets louder with a little bit of pain, he's a bit freaky, tho. grip his hair, pull his head back, bite his neck, choke him, i'd even say slap him, i think he can enjoy that too, dig your nails to his skin, and this man will be squirming, moaning, grunting, completely at your mercy.

vernon goes crazy when you beg. the little cry on your tone as you beg him to not stop, to make you cum, to fill you up. and when you wrap your legs around his hips, kneels on his ass and lower back, pulling him deeper inside you, that's his end, he's a sobbing moaning mess.

chan is gasping for air when you put a show for him. his cock dripping and lungs burning as you play with yourself for him, pinching your nipples and swirling on your cunt, has him letting out those needy breathy moans as he watches you.

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 3

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary:  You go back to school and you try and make yourself useful

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, misogyny 

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

PART 3

“30 days has September, April, June and November…”

You had set yourself the task today to make yourself a calendar.  Maths had never been your strongest subject in school, but you were excellent at remembering, so you knew the month song off by heart and were mumbling it to yourself as you began digging into your desk draw to retrieve some art supplies.

The decision to make the calendar had hit you last night when you were reading one of your new library books before bed and the return receipt slipped out of the back cover and onto your lap.  Normally, it was the very first thing you retrieved when you got home from the library, making sure to mark the return dates down on your big white board calendar on the fridge.  But you were still getting used an entirely new routine in your new house and you’d completely forgot to look for the slip.

Now that you had it though, you had to make sure you noted down the dates somewhere you could easily see them.  So, with a few pieces of paper, a ruler and some markers, you drew up a calendar for the next few months.  By checking the borrow date on the receipt and counting how many days it had been since your library visit, you managed to figure out what todays date was.  From there, and with the help of that handy month song, you’d managed to fill in the rest of the dates.   

When it was all completed you stepped back to examine your work.  If you were honest with yourself, your lines could have been drawn straighter and your handwriting could have been much, much neater.  But you didn’t have the energy to redo it, so it would have to do.  For now. 

You surveyed your room for someone to put it.  In your old house your calendar was on the fridge, out in the open for everyone to see and help you keep track of.  Here, it needed to be hidden from your Aunties, so that it was your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to make sure you were staying on top of everything.

Everything.

A wave of guilt crashed over you as you remembered all the other things you would keep track of on your calendar.  Now that you were a big girl, you had been helping around the house and you had chores.  You would set the table and help take the cups and plates and spoons out of the dish washer (only Mummy and Daddy could touch the knives).  You would also check for mail every morning and there was a pretty purple watering can you got use to water the flowers in the front garden a couple of times a week.

But you didn’t do any of that here at your Aunties house.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Part of you worried that your Aunties didn’t trust you enough to ask you to help out around the house.  Perhaps they thought you weren’t smart enough or strong enough or big enough to lend a hand.  Or maybe they were secretly mad that you hadn’t insisted on helping and were keeping a top-secret list of all the times you didn’t help out and they would present it to you on a big, long scroll on the day they kicked you out their house.

You shuddered at the thought of that.  That was a day you thought about often.  You didn’t know how many days or weeks or months it was until the baby was here, but surely your time here at your Aunties house was running out.  You needed to do everything in your power to be good until then so that they didn’t kick you out any sooner.  

That night before tea, you made sure to wash your hands extra good before heading into the kitchen where your Aunty Lessi was cooking.  

“Aunty Lessi, could I set the table?”

“Oh sure!  If you’d like.  Just give me a moment and I’ll show you where everything is.”

You grinned in silent satisfaction, glad that it seemed like your Aunty wasn’t outright opposed to you proving your worth.  After your Aunty Lessi finished with whatever she was stirring on the stove, she led you over to various cupboards and drawers and pointed out where the placemats, plates and cutlery lived.  Whilst there were a few plastic cups in the same cupboard as the plates for you to use, the glasses your Aunties drank out of were on a higher shelf that were too high for you to reach.

“Don’t worry about those, I can grab them” she insisted.

“I could get a chair or something to stand on?”

“Don’t be silly, Bun Bun.  I’ll get them.  Thank you for getting everything else though.”

Silly. Silly. Silly.

Once you were all sat down for dinner, you watched your Aunty Lessi spin spaghetti around her fork before you took a deep breath in and began.

“Did I do okay at setting the table?”

“You did a great job, Bunny!” Your Aunty Leah was smiling big and bright at you.  She had a bit of sauce on her chin, but you thought it would be rude to tell her.

“Do you think I could do it every night?” you asked.

“Uhh… I mean, if you want to, sure.”

Victory.  One chore to add to the calendar.

“What about the post?  Can I be in charge of checking that too? Does it come in the mornings?”

You observed as your Aunties caught eyes with each other across the table, seeming to have a silent conversation.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do that if you like,” Aunty Lessi nodded.

“Great!  And I can help empty the dishwasher.  No knives of course, but I can do spoons and plates and bowls and cups and stuff.  And maybe I can water some of your flowers, or all of them?  Or I can learn how to do other stuff too.  Like I could figure out how to do the laundry or clean the bathrooms or anything you want really…”

You hadn’t really realised, but you had pulled your knees up to your chest as your rant had gone on.  Your head was now resting on top of them as you looked eagerly between your Aunties, waiting for their response.  They were doing the silent conversation thing again.

“You don’t need to do all those things sweetheart.  We appreciate you offering, but maybe we’ll wait until you’re a bit older to do things like the laundry and stuff, yeah?” your Aunty Lessi responded.

You felt your stomach drop.  Your Aunty Lessi’s voice was kind, but you knew what her words meant.  They didn’t think you were big enough to help.

“How about we start off with setting the table for tea and checking the mail?  You’re still just settling in here, so we don’t wanna overload you with too much stuff to remember to do.”

--

It may have been bright and sunny outside, but today was a day you had been absolutely dreading.  You had decided to hang your calendar on the back of your bedroom door so that nobody but you would see it, and you had made sure to mark this day with a bright red circle and big a sad face.  Today was the day you were going back to school. 

You weren’t sure how it was decided or who decided, but you’d had a couple of weeks away from school after the fire and now it was time to go back.

You had only been back at school for 3 weeks of the new school year before the fire happened, so your parents had only just bought you brand-new dresses and shoes to replace the previous ones you’d outgrown.  Your pencil case had been filled with fresh crayons and sharp pencils, and you’d only just put a really cool new bunny sticker that your Uncle Gio had given you on your lunchbox.  But now, you had to start all over again.

So today, as you sat in front office with your Aunties, you were wearing a brand-new school dress and shoes and socks and Aunty Lessi had done your hair in a pretty braid with some pretty ribbons.  You also had a brand-new backpack and lunch box and pencil case, and you even had a brand-new iPad in a shiny purple case. 

In theory, you were all set to go.

But just under the surface, just beneath the layer of hairspray and the stiff gingham fabric, you were absolutely dreading heading back to the big noisy classroom and scary, sticky playgrounds.

You didn’t have heaps of friends at school like most of the other kids seemed to have.  You did have one good friend though.  Nora.  She also really liked to read and was super into comic books and superheros.  You didn’t really understand why she liked them, but you were more than happy to listen to her when she wanted to tell you all about them.  You would then tell her some cool bunny facts in return. 

This year the school librarian, Mr Webster, had let you both work on a big jigsaw puzzle every lunchtime.  He kept it safe and flat on a special piece of wood that he hid on top of his bookshelf in his office when you weren’t working on it.  It was a really, really big puzzle with loads more pieces than any other puzzle either of you had ever done before.  You were both determined to finish it before Christmas, but you weren’t sure if Nora had kept going while you were away.  You hoped she had but you also secretly hoped there was still some pieces left for you to do.  

Unlike previous years, Nora wasn’t in your class this year.  You were in Mrs Green’s class, and she was in Miss Roberts’ class.  You’d both written a letter to each teacher requesting to be swapped into each other’s class, but it hadn’t worked.  You were stuck alone in the classes you were in, and honestly, you were miserable. 

You see, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any other friends, that didn’t bother you much at all.  It was the fact that a bunch of the other kids seemed to actively dislike you.  In fact, the thing they seemed to like most in the whole world was picking on you.  They called you names and pulled on your hair and threw things at you.  You couldn’r really pinpoint exactly when it all started, but your first and most vivid memory was when Mitchell Timms had snatched your copy of The Worst Witch out of your hands one lunch time.  He threw it in a muddy puddle and stomped on it until all the pages were torn and the words had jumbled together.  When you ran over to try and save the book, a gift you’d received on your latest birthday, Mitchell just laughed at you and called you a “loser weirdo”. 

For the first 3 weeks of school this year, you had been sat next to a boy named Ollie and it had been awful.  He kept bumping your arm on purpose while you were trying to write and had laughed whenever you got frustrated that you had to erase and redo your mistakes.  One time he had even pulled your chair out from underneath you when you went to sit down, leading you to land on your bottom on the floor with a thud.  The whole class had pointed and laughed at you.  You had run out of the classroom and hid under a bench to try and calm yourself down.

When the teacher came to find you, you were curled in a ball, rubbing your Pocket Arthur softly against your cheek.  Pocket Arthur was your school buddy.  When you’d moved up from Reception into Primary School, your parents had bought you a miniature version of Arthur that you could keep tucked away in your pocket.  They said that now that you were going to big school, Arthur could no longer come along with you, but they wanted to make sure you still had a little buddy to always keep you company.  So, he was your Pocket Arthur, or Pockie for short. 

But he died in the fire too.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

So, on the night before you went back to school, you’d searched through your room, trying to find something to fill the big empty space left by Pockie when he died – the pocket of your school dress.  You tried crumpling up a wad of tissues, but the texture of it was all wrong.  Next you tried a balled-up pair of socks, but it felt scratchy when you tried rubbing it against your cheek.  You looked over the stuffies your Aunties had bought you, but they were all far too big to fit in your pocket.    

One of the stuffies caught your eye however as your dug through the little pile of toys.  It was on the bottom of pile, and you hadn’t seen it since you moved here.  It was a lovely and soft grey kangaroo, with pointy ears and a long tail.  You rather liked kangaroos, because while they were a completely different species to bunnies and could only be found in the wild in Australia, they kind of reminded you of really big rabbits.  As you pressed the soft fur to your cheek, something small fell in your lap.  Picking it up, you realised it was a baby kangaroo.  It must have fallen from the big kangaroo’s pouch.  It was perfect.  The perfect size, the perfect feel, the perfect squish.  You rubbed it against your cheek.  Bliss.  Holding it gently in your little hands, you squinted your eyes and ran your thumbs across the soft fur trying to figure out the perfect name for your new pocket pal.  Bailey.  She seemed like a Bailey.

And it was Bailey who you clung to, you hand shoved deep in your pocket, when the Headteacher Mrs Brinley called you all into her office.

You watched as both your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah shook hands with Mrs Brinley and then you all sat down on big uncomfortable chairs across the table from her.  You’d never been in her office before, so you took a moment to look around, noticing a bunch of certificates in big frames on the wall, a huge bookcase full of books and some photos of who you assumed were her family.

“Well, while we were very, very sad to hear about what has happened, we are glad that Y/K is back at school with us.  Hopefully being back in class will help her with getting back to her regular routine and schedule and assist her in feeling more settled.”

Her voice wasn’t unkind, but everything she said always sounded like she’d been rehearsing for it like it was a speech she had to give in front of the whole school.

“We have both of your phone numbers, as well as the number for your workplace, and we will call you should there be any issues.  But I’m sure Y/K will do just fine.”

Your Aunty Leah gently squeezed your hand that wasn’t firmly stuffed in your pocket, clinging onto Bailey for dear life.

“Mrs Green is going to meet you just back out in the front office and she will walk you up to class.  So, unless anyone has any questions, I’ll let you all get to it.”

You all shuffled back out the front office, where your teacher was waiting for you.  Aunty Lessi knelt down and gave you a big cuddle.

“Okay Bunny. You have fun on your first day back, alright?  And if anything goes wrong, or you don’t feel good or you feel sad… you just let your teacher know to call us okay.”

Aunty Leah leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead and stroked your cheek.  “You’ve got everything you need in your backpack, so you’re all set to go.  You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

The walk to your classroom was mostly filled with your teacher telling you about all the things you’d missed while you’d been away from school.  A little bubble of dread was beginning to build in your stomach as you realised all the work you now had to catch up on.  But by lunchtime that bubble had been replaced by a boulder.

Holding your lunch box and book tight to your chest, you looked around the hall for a spare seat.  Normally, you and Nora would sit together to eat your lunch and then go to the library, but to make a bad day even worse Nora was away from school today.  You had spent a solid 5 minutes looking for her, but according to a student in her class she’d had to stay home because she a nasty tummy bug.

The hall was quickly filling up as students grabbed their hot meals or lunch boxes and sat down at their chosen tables.  It quickly became apparent that the only spot left was one on the end of a table filled with some of the children who didn’t like you.  You’d spent so long looking for Nora, you’d been left with no other option.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

With a deep breath, you headed over to the table.  You sat quietly in the seat, hoping you would go unnoticed.

You didn’t.

“Why you sitting with us, Y/K?  Isn’t there anyone else you can sit with?” Jessica asked as you unzipped your lunch box.  You just shook your head in response.  A chorus of grumbles followed from the rest of the kids sitting at the table.

“Eww yuck, why does she have to sit with us?”  

“Where’s her weirdo friend?”

“Maybe she can sit on the floor instead.”

You just tried to tune them out, grabbing a sandwich out of your lunch box to munch on.  Your first bite was interrupted when the boy sitting beside you, Max, nudged you.

“Hey, were those your new Mums who brought you into school today?”

You hastily swallowed your sandwich, wanting to explain. “They’re my-” It was no use.  The group quickly began announcing their thoughts on the matter before you had a chance to correct them.

“Two Mums?  How can someone have TWO Mums?  That’s not right.”

“Yeah, my Dad says that it’s disgusting when two boys or two girls are married or kiss and stuff!”

“Oh yeah, like, have you ever saw two lads kiss? It’s weird!”

“I saw two ladies kissing when my Pop took me to the football last week.  He said they were going straight to hell!”

“As if she wasn’t weird enough, now she’s got two Mums too!”

Something inside you snapped, and you found yourself with your fists clenched and your cheeks red, Bailey long forgotten in your pocket.

“Yeah, well, they’re not my Mums, they’re my Aunties.  And they’re really nice and really clever and super cool.  And they play football for England, and and for the red and white club with the cannon!  And my Aunty Leah is the captain and everything! So that’s cooler than any of your families, ever!”

There was a short silence before they all started laughing.

“Girl’s football!  That doesn’t count!”

“That’s not real football!”

“Arsenal!  Pfffft.”

“I can’t wait to tell my Dad about this.”

“One of them looked pregnant when I saw them outside the office.  There’s no way they let her play like that!”

“That’s why they shouldn’t let girls play!”

“Wait, how is she having a baby if there’s no Daddy to put the baby in her?”

Whilst the rest of the comments had begun to muddle together and fade into the background as you tuned them all out, this last one pierced through.  Your head shot back in the direction of Jessica, the girl who had asked the question.  She was looking straight at you with her eyes squinted, twirling a strand of her hair around her pointer finger.

You hadn’t ever stopped to think about this.  To be honest you’d never really been interested in where babies came from.  You knew that whilst it varied from breed to breed, bunnies were pregnant for an average of 31 days and had litters of babies.  You also knew that humans usually only had one baby at a time and they were pregnant for around 9 months.  But you didn’t know how either bunnies or humans became pregnant.  Honestly, you were stumped.

“Guess you didn’t learn that in any of your stupid books, huh? Loser.”

[cosmic-expressions]

⋮ ♯; ⤷ YOU'RE MY FAVORITE .ᐟ

alhaitham x fem!reader, smut; tying up, cowgirl, praise, check-ins (cuz they are hot as hell too); marking (hickeys), pretty vanilla if you ask me; idk what else needs a warning wc: 665 (man so close yet so far) a/n: reblogs are nice, lemme know what you think! i wouldn't mind some feedback..... inbox is always open and maybe yall see me here a bit more often in November (unless my studies kill me lol)

having ALHAITHAM tied to the bed, laid bare for your eyes and your eyes only, is almost like a dream come true. and since he came out with this idea, something you always wanted to bring up… of course your body reacted on its own.

“does it feel good? is it tight?” you make sure he’s not in pain, that he’s comfortable because the last thing you want to do is hurt him while fulfilling your little fantasy. but when he assures you all is well, you can’t hide the excitement coursing through you. “you’re so pretty like this… i mean- you’re always pretty and handsome but this is- i really like it like that…”

ALHAITHAM smiles and lets out a little chuckle, his body growing warm and face getting red thanks to your words; also, something about your hungry stare, about you clearly enjoying it, and about pleasing you like that… it gets him going as well.

you straddle his lap, plopping softly on it; the feeling of your soft, plushy thighs against his skin only fuels his desire and need, making him let out a little, somewhat impatient, sound. but you’re no better, feeling him grow harder underneath you, seeing his every reaction, you just can’t help and whimper softly. leaning in, you place your lips on his, kissing him slowly at first, just to get greedy right after.

normally, ALHAITHAM would hold your hips, would have his hands all over you, and would make sure it’s really you on top of him; but not it’s you who gets to touch him all over. getting handsy, he can feel the rough possessiveness in your touch, in every caress and rub.

“you’re so- mmmh, just- perfect,” you mutter between the kisses, humming and moaning quietly. with hands all over his upper body, you graze your fingertips over his muscles, making sure to leave a trace of fiery passion.

“baby-” ALHAITHAM lets out a short groan when you start rubbing yourself against him, a little teasing but also a preparation for what’s to come. “you’re a- you’re a tease-”

“i know, i know,” kissing him again, you continue the slow movements a little more. you two moan into each other’s mouth, bodies reacting and moving in an almost synchronized pace. “just a little more- a little more- i know you can-”

muttering soft praises and encouragements, you trail your lips down, leaving kisses across his cheek, jaw, and neck; in every place you know will get a reaction from him. “

oh- fuck! baby you’re-!” ALHAITHAM groans again, jaw clenching when you finally take him inside you, your tight and slick walls inviting and nestling his cock so sweetly. with your weak moans and whimpers accompanying your movements, it’s just a matter of time for him to go insane.

you reach for his palm and hold it tight, kissing him softly and lovingly, all while you move up and down on him. ALHAITHAM throbs and moans, loving how your hand feels small and warm wrapped around his own. kissing you back, shamelessly eager, ALHAITHAM bucks his hips up, reaching deep inside; reaching and pressing on all the sweet and sensitive places that have you breathless in seconds.

“fuck-! fuck, alhaitham!” you moan and throw your head back, losing it to the pleasure.

he’s fast to suck on your neck and leave soft kisses all over your cleavage, something that became a small habit of his. a little familiar thing, grounding him at the moment; the feeling of your warm skin, of your pulse underneath his lips, the warm and shallow breaths over his ear – it’s all he loves and needs to be sure you feel good and safe with him. safe enough to let yourself free and feral, safe enough to take him like you want and not be ashamed of it. that’s what causes his heart to flutter aggressively in his chest… and to cum inside you immediately, filling you up and stretching you well.

[MAIN-MLIST] [GENSHIN-MLIST] [INBOX] [KO-FI]

[redvexillum]

OH MY GOD, WHERE DO I EVEN START?! 😱💖

I’m absolutely vibrating from how intense this is—like, Vox is an absolute FORCE here, and I’m living for every single drop-dead detail. The tension? Electric. The atmosphere? Suffocating in the BEST way. And let's talk about Vox—his whole "I’ve been thinking about you" and hungry gaze had me clutching my chest like a helpless fangirl. This man knows how to make an entrance! 😳💘

The way his presence alone makes the reader’s heart race is EVERYTHING, and the slow burn of his words? OOOH, THE INNUENDO. I’m screaming! His dangerous charm, the utter confidence in his advances—can you even imagine the heat radiating from him as he gets closer? My head is spinning just thinking about it. And let’s not forget his little accidental slip of his deepest fantasies on the screen—like, that’s the exact kind of deliciously obsessive touch I live for. 🙌

But oh my god, when he gets all possessive and says “You’re going to be mine, My Doll,” I LITERALLY MELTED into a puddle of goo. I can’t handle how much he needs her, how much he wants her in a way that feels so raw and consuming! 😩🔥 The ending with the promise of “everything you’ve ever dreamed of” is just… it’s perfection.

And can we just talk about how Vox knows exactly how to push buttons?! That “say my name” line? Literally melted. 💖 The way he controls everything, like he's pulling every string, and the whole "look at me" part? He's not just being possessive; he's marking you with his gaze, making sure you're completely lost in him. Ughhh, perfection. 😍

Also, his self-control is barely there, and the constant battle he has with his own desire for the reader is like the hottest thing I’ve read in ages. The way he teases, toys with, and stretches the reader’s patience makes every moment drag out deliciously.

The level of detail is next-level too! The whole mix of rough and tender—like when he’s literally fucking you through your pleasure and then still kissing you gently afterward—dreamy sigh, please I want, nay, need more!!!!!!

Vox is obsessed, and I’m obsessed with HIM. If this was a dream, I’m never waking up, because WOW. Just… WOW. 😍🔥

Late

Vox x FReader

CW: Smut, P in V sex, fingering, edging, overstimulation, erotic electrostimulation, semi public, fairly vanilla after hours office smut, lots of praise and various (excessive) endearments used... praise kink go brrr.

fic below the cut.

I hope you all enjoy your hot TV dinner.

Vox sat in his office working late one evening, focused on the screens before him, observing the general objects of his interest outside of the tower, he is consciously aware of the time due to the noises or rather lack of, in the areas outside his main (socially friendly) office. 

Rubbing a clawed hand wearily over his screen he sighs; he resigns himself to the fact there’s probably no more he can do so late in the day, and it be conducive to his productivity. 

So, he stands on heavy feet and exits his office, blinking a few times when he spots a certain little sinner diligently working away at their desk. This one seems to work as hard as he does these days, he wonders why for a moment, after all everyone else can’t seem to get away from work fast enough... Yet you... You linger. 

You look up and blink in surprise, having not noticed him leaving his office at first, and this is actually pretty early for him to make an appearance, usually he’s engrossed in his work until a much later hour. 

You shiver slightly at his intimidating posture, Vox is just standing and staring at you, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You restrain yourself from reacting. It wouldn’t do well to give away how his mere presence affects you, especially not knowing how he... Or specifically his other male counterpart, might react if he found out exactly why it is you linger so late in the office night after night. 

Your thighs tense slightly under the desk, the safest move possible and it does help alleviate some of the ache within. 

“Can I help you sir?” You manage to pipe up as formally as possible, slightly unnerved and hyper aware of the isolation surrounding you both as has been a frequent occurrence lately. 

“Mhm.” Vox nods, his eyes scanning over you, you think perhaps hungrily, or rather you half hope, as he seems to maintain his composure with what appears to be effortless ease. 

 He takes a step closer, his voice low and husky, his glowing eyes trained upon you as he speaks. You try to manage your breathing to stay level as his scent hits your nose; slightly metallic, maybe a hint of something more but very subtle, his cologne overpowered by the heady smell of fuel or perhaps oil, your mouth waters slightly, it's an addicting smell either way, subtle but almost hypnotic... Just as he can be. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Doll. Your work ethic is truly... inspiring.” His words are dripping with innuendo, your heart races, and eyes dilate, and, in your head, you panic, thinking over and over again ‘It’s happening’. There’s also an underlying sincerity that betrays his true feelings, one you don't seem to notice, but is a little too exposing for his comfort. 

He leans in slightly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues. “And those... ‘assets’ of yours. Absolutely fascinating. I can’t help but wonder how, you came up with such... efficient productivity plans.” His voice is barely above a whisper now, filled with desire and obsession, he idly thinks to himself how he would love to feel your ‘assets’ pressed against him. 

You shiver slightly at his proximity, his breath ghosting the nape of your neck and goosebumps erupting all over your skin, your heart pounding at his suggestive tone, you must restrain yourself from moaning out loud and embarrassing yourself. 

Vox straightens up, his grin turning wicked as he meets your gaze, knowingly guessing correctly his effect on you, after all there’s a reason you’ve also been working late, and it definitely isn’t due to your work ethics.  

Vox ploughs on... “You see, my dear, I can’t get you out of my head lately. I’ve been wondering if perhaps you also have been having the same... challenges I have seemingly been ‘blessed’ with upon our frequent encounters... And I’ve decided I’m done waiting and second guessing... I want you Doll, I’m not going to waste time beating around the bush, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine, name it and it’s yours.” 

You blush, as your boss leans closer, his heat making your heart race, his smirk widening as he sees the evidence of his effect on you, your blush, your tense body, the small bumps forming along your skin, the slight shiver and submissive tilt of your head, he feels his cock hardening, already desperate to find out just how good you feel wrapped around it, not a new feeling, but one he feels much closer to achieving, now more than ever. 

Vox steps even closer, looming over you now, his chest almost touching yours as he bends and speaks in a low, husky voice. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you blush, Doll? Do you have any idea what that does to me... What you do to me? It’s like you’re inviting me to take you, to taste you.” 

You’re utterly mesmerised, speech unable to form as you bathe in his ever-present glow, his large frame dwarfing you, making you feel delicate and ready to melt just for him, the moisture between your legs already way ahead of you. 

Vox’s sharp, cyan-tipped fingers reach out, a moment of unnoticed hesitation on his end before gently brushing against your cheek and tracing down your neck, your breath hitches, your heart pounding so hard your vision blurs and ears feel muffled.  

“And your pulse... it’s racing. Are you afraid of me, my dear?” Vox teases, his fingers lingering right where your heart betrays you, he knows that the exact opposite is true, if his scent receptors were more sensitive, he would no doubt be able to smell the arousal currently pooling in your underwear, filling the office with such a fragrance you’d be utterly humiliated to be found as the source. You try desperately to control your reactions, trying so hard not to embarrass yourself. 

Vox smiles devilishly, leaning in even closer, his lips mere centimetres from yours, breath tickling your lips, his own heady scent wafting up your nostrils, making your eyes want to roll back and for you to present yourself like a bitch in heat, as he whispers, tantalisingly. 

“Or are you excited by just the mere thought of being mine?” His glowing blue tongue darts out provocatively, your eyes greedily following the suggestive action, a slight whimper escapes, making you blush even harder, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but the look on his face says everything. 

Vox’s screen flickers suddenly displaying various images of the two of you together in intimate scenarios, revealing his deepest fantasies and desires in just a fraction of a second, but enough for you to see, your whole body goes hot at his intentional display. 

You stammer over your words, attempting to communicate, utterly enthralled and speechless... You whimper slightly as his body heat radiates even closer to you, the main source... His screen... You lean forward unconsciously seeking the warmth... And him. 

Vox smirks, noticing your reaction to his advances. He takes advantage of your momentary vulnerability, closing the gap between your faces until his lips are almost touching yours. “You want me, don’t you, Doll?” He whispers, his hot breath mingling with yours. 

You visibly shiver, his grin widens impossibly further as you gaze up at him, your brain short circuiting. 

Emboldened by your reactions thus far, Vox’s fingers continue their exploration, taking a huge gamble but he doubts he’s read you wrong, moving down to gently cup your breast through your clothing. 

He feels you arch into his touch slightly in response, and it only makes him more determined to claim you, your whimper assures him his advances are not unwelcome. He marvels at the soft pliant feel of you in his hands, all just for him... Just the way he likes it. 

Vox is certainly glad you seem to take the time to work as late as he does, (whether his guess as to your motives is correct or not) as it’s left the office deserted for the two of you, fortuitous circumstances indeed. 

His thumb rubs over your nipple, he watches your reactions closely, savouring the sight of your arousal, the slight stutter of your chest on an inhale, the trembling of your upper body, the goosebumps rising incessantly on your flesh. 

“You see, my dear, I can give you everything you desire... All you have to do is submit to me.” Vox coos, trying to entice you further, wanting there to be no doubts in your mind, wanting your full submission. He wants you to want him, needs this more than he ever realised, before, maybe its infatuation, but he’s never felt so hard for another in his entire existence... Well except... But that’s never going to happen. 

Vox’s screen this time involuntarily displays an image of the two of you, entwined in a passionate embrace. It’s clear to you that he’s envisioning a future where you belong to him completely, it’s actually a rather wholesome scene of the pair of you entwined, his fingers stroking down you back as you read to him, his eyes trained on your face with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. 

You bite your lip, stifling a moan as your senses are jarred back to him and his touch as Vox kneads your breasts, feeling a fresh warm rush of desire and arousal flood between your legs, further ruining your underwear, if there is such a possibility at this point. 

You whimper softly as he teases your nipple with the tip of his claw, edging you and waiting for an answer before taking anything further, the raised eyebrow makes you realise all of this. 

“Yes please... Sir.” You manage to breathe out, finally finding and forcing your voice to do its damn job, feeling a little faint from the effort of not just letting him do all the work. 

Finally! Vox chuckles menacingly, his eyes flashing with satisfaction as they darken with desire as he hears your plea, still using his office honorific, he finds he rather likes that particular word coming from your enticing lips, as breathy whines escape you, encouraging him further with every reaction he drags from you. 

Unable to hold back, you feel as though you could combust right now with the overwhelming racing thoughts and sensations, your fear of getting caught in the act, your despair of the possibility of this being a use and dump situation, his utterly enthralling pleasurable ministrations, his scent... Just him in general, you whine even louder as he floods your senses to know nothing but him in this moment. 

You wonder why you’re holding back from something you’ve wanted and fantasised about for so long now. Perhaps it is because you’re both still in the office, your whirling fears a cacophony in your head, trying to warn you. 

Despite being the only souls who should be anywhere near at this late hour, there are the cleaning crew to still worry about, you have a thrill of fear, at this though, the thought of being heard or worse yet, being seen impaled on your boss's cock as he rails you seven ways to Sunday. 

Vox is completely unconcerned which such things, it seems, his touch swiftly becomes bolder, squeezing your breasts more firmly now he’s had audible consent, he leans in eagerly to capture your lips in a bruising electrifying kiss, and all thoughts about being caught fizzle from your mind as you moan into his mouth, finally getting a taste of the fuzzy static you had pondered would be present. 

He can practically taste your desperation, his tongue delving and exploring with impatience, now he’s got you he wants everything all at once, he needs every experience he’s rubbed his cock to, fantasising for months about you now as he’s observed your beautiful curves and sway of your hips as he’s let you out late each evening from work to lock up behind you.  

Using the VoxTec drone Vox had subtly followed you home as he’d rushed to the nearby janitorial closet, your walking rear displayed on his screen, he gasps and moans, his hand wrapping around the blue throbbing need and stroking himself with abandon and desperation, until he erupts into a nearby cloth, the frequency of these acts leaving him raw and yet unable to stop, even after he was caught by a cleaning staff member, promptly silenced. 

You sigh, bringing his thoughts back into the moment, he finally has you, why is he wasting time reminiscing when the glory is all right here, right now? Practically begging for him to enjoy, and enjoy he shall, he smiles, his screen heating to an unsafe temperature for a moment as the fans kick in. 

You moan, to his utter delight, he’s delicious, and it only fuels his own desire. His tongue explores your mouth fervently, he presses himself even closer dominating the space and pressing against you as he deepens the kiss even more, your mouth giving way to his. It's odd because his kisses leave such tingles on your lips, but it’s not a flat screen you’re meeting, its rather firm, but they’re definitely a pair of lips you feel, electrified, tingly lips, but they feel amazing. 

Vox breaks the kiss briefly, allowing you both some air, his voice husky, full of lust and confidence as he speaks, almost repeating himself word for word once more. 

“You’re going to be mine, My Doll. And I promise you, I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” 

He captures your lips again, his fingers still teasing your nipples as he claims you in a display of dominance and power, bearing down on you. His other hand moves lower, pressing against the fabric covering your wetness, making sure you know exactly what he intends, as if there was doubt at this point. 

You whimper, your hips bucking as he brushes your swollen aching clit through the fabric, and he smirks against your lips, the zing of his static causes your hairs to stand on end, his own cock jumps inside his trousers at the feel of your sopping cunt, not a dry patch to be found on your panties, and even your skirt and office chair had suffered the same fate. His arrogant grin widens at the thought of him being the cause off this, and the willingness emanating from your squirming whining form.

“Good Baby Doll.” Vox purrs, pleased with your response. He moves in, pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. 

“Mmm.”  

Vox moans as he tastes you, his hands still fondling your breasts possessively, your back arching as you whimper and moan deliciously for him, after a few seconds, he pulls away, his electric blue eyes darkened with desire as he drinks you in. 

“You’re mine now, Doll. And I intend to use you well.” He promises, smirking sinfully as your body burns with desire, his tone dripping with arrogance, supported by the sight of your dishevelled needy state. 

He grabs your wrist, pulling you up into his strong arms as you gasp at his hardness pressing insistently into your abdomen briefly, before he tugs on you, leading you to the ‘waiting’ couch nearby, pushing you onto it before slotting his warm hard body against yours, fitting together so perfectly. Vox can feel you dampening his trousers, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt impatiently as your hands remember they exist and you run them up the smooth fabric covering the hard planes of his toned chest, you don’t bother to stifle the moan that escapes you this time, so far gone in the moment. 

“Say my name Doll.” Vox insists. 

“S-Sir?” You manage to choke out as he flings your top away indelicately and tuts amused at your unfocused gaze. 

“No, not ‘Sir’, Say my name, my little Bombshell.” Vox chides, light-heartedly. Teasing your nipples through the lace of your bra, using the slight pain from his claw tips to keep you further enticed... Not that you need any coaxing, as you moan so prettily for him yet again, he notices your cheeks darken again to his immense pride, “Fuck, Doll you’ve got such glorious tits. Now be a good little Sex Kitten and do as you are told.” 

“Vox!” You gasp loudly at his pinch on your sensitive bud. 

“Again.” He demands fiercely, not letting go, screen glitching slightly. 

“Vox,” comes out whined more breathily this time, “oh, mmmmmpppfff” You moan softly, leaning your head back as he fondles you more thoroughly and gently in reward, your body meeting his hands to press your chest further into his touch, begging silently for more. 

Feeling Vox’s finger trail down to your wet panties, you spread your legs wider, desperate and aching, hyperaware of the large hard presence of his cock throbbing against you insistently even as he focuses entirely on your body, a trail of sparks follows his touch stimulating you, the slight burn making you tingle and jolt, he keeps you in his dazzling gaze. 

Vox smirks as he observes your leg's part wider, giving him better access to your drench's wetness. “Look at you, desperate for more, for me, I can see it in your eyes Baby Doll.” He chuckles, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes unblinking as he takes everything in, trying to embed it all in his memory banks, unwilling to miss a single frame. 

Vox slides his finger under the fabric of your panties, teasing your entrance before plunging it inside without warning, you gasp and squeak in shock and pleasure, moaning as he slides in with such ease, your body moving to meet his movements obediently. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Vox groans, his own self-control flickering, feeling your walls clench around his finger as he starts gently thrusting in and out, mindful to use his finger pad not the claw to press against the spongy spot of ecstasy for you, your tight heat gripping tightly on just his finger, his cock throbs eager to know just how much squeezing and teasing he’ll have to do to fit inside. 

His other hand continues to tease your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers as he ravishes you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Vox’s voice low and seductive, not expecting an answer as you moan again as a second finger joins the first, your whole body shaking from the tingles he’s causing within you, your body tightening and loosening with every tiny zap and rub, igniting much more than ever before, your body almost convulsing from the overwhelming stimulation. 

His tongue snakes out to lick his lips, biting down on it in concentration, his cerulean eyes, liquid, and locked onto yours as he watches your every reaction to his ministrations. 

“I could fuck you right here, right now. And anyone outside would be able to hear your desperate little moans.” Vox teases. 

You suddenly realise you’ve been making quite a ruckus, however when you try to shut your mouth and put a once again forgotten hand over it, Vox tuts. 

“Don’t you dare deprive me of this Doll.” Vox moves your hand away from your mouth gently, and places it right on his straining bulge, his hand cupping and encasing yours, firmly his hand holds over the top of yours as he moans, bucking his hips into your hand as you feel his own burning need for you, rutting desperately hard and frighteningly large, pressing your hand against him so you rub him, his other hand not forgetting it’s task for an instant, but you own eyes meet his again so aroused and intimidated, all it does is endear you further to him. 

“Look at what you do to me Doll, can you feel how hard my fucking cock is for you right now.” Vox growls and you shiver and moan again, as a third finger pulls you away from eye contact, the burn of the stretch as he attempts to prepare you for what’s to come, he’s not sure how much patience he has left at this point as it still won’t be enough. 

Vox smirks, his fingers sliding out as he gives into his desires, tracing back up through your wetness, making sure to tease you just enough to leave you wanting more as you whine needily, on the verge of an orgasm as he torments you with glee. His other hand moves upwards, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze yet again as you had been staring at his fingers longingly, not allowing you an inch of reprieve. 

“Look at me, Doll.” He commands, his voice firm and dominant as he holds your gaze. He can see the desire in your eyes, and it only fuels his own. He starts to tug at your bra, pulling it impatiently one handed, before growling and giving up, using a sharp claw to slice it off your body, upwards to reveal your bare breasts. His eyes widen at the sight, and he lets out a low whistle. 

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He murmurs, his fingers trailing lightly over your nipples before pinching them gently between his thumbs and forefingers again, zapping you gently to give you more burning tingle and your nipples go all puffy in their already pebbled state, as you can’t hold back a very loud moan, to his utter smug delight. 

Making sure you’re watching him, Vox slowly brings his glistening fingers back up to his screen, and you whine as you watch his long tongue wrap around the first digit wickedly, shaking and needy you watch as he hums and greedily devours your essence from his skilled fingers, slightly pricking his tongue in his eagerness, a drop of red escaping his mouth, your eyes following its path down his chin, but oddly doesn’t escape past his screen. 

“Delicious.” He leans in, capturing your lips in another heated kiss as his free hand begins to undo his pants, swiftly releasing his impressive throbbing length. He grins against your lips as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours as you whimper scared and aroused at the sight of the veiny, blue member, it's so thick and long you doubt your ability to house such a monster, as you begin to protest. 

Vox silences you with another kiss, this time slow and reassuring, when he allows you mild freedom again, you bite your lip, looking back into his eyes as he stares down at you, you feel warmth suffuse your tingly body, reassured you nod. 

At his encouraging glance, you reach out, tentatively wrapping your hand around his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, and smiling shyly as he groans, his eyes half closing. You can feel the heat radiating off him increase, you bite your lip to hold in another moan as Vox’s cock throbs in your hand, twitching eagerly at your attention, you’re so tempted to taste, but shy from the idea at the last moment. 

Vox moans as your hands feel so very soft on his raging erection as he finally feels one of the things he’s been dreaming of for months... Any part of you touching his bare cock willingly, hell if you back down now, he’d have wanking material for the next several decades, after all he had less to go on before with... And that never stopped him. 

He shakes his head slightly to ground himself, refusing to let the past taint what is finally in his grasp, a chance at true pleasure, perhaps even happiness, if he can make the right impression. 

Vox’s eyes flutter closed momentarily as you wrap your other hand around his cock, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He can feel the anticipation building within him, his desire for you reaching new heights. 

“That’s it, Doll.” Vox murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need. “Touch me... Feel how hard I am for you... It’s just us right now, this is all for you, you do this to me every time I see you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He bites his tongue for giving far too much away too soon luckily not hard enough to hurt. 

He opens his eyes in his panic, meeting your gaze once more as he starts to thrust his hips forward, hoping to distract you enough to not think on his words, grinding his cock against your soft palm. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me wild Doll.” Vox groans, his other hand reaching out to caress your leg, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt once more, wanting just to flip you over and drive into you again and again until neither of you can stand for several days. In his ecstasy he had almost forgotten your pleasure. His trusty thumb brushes against your aching pulsing clit, circling it gently as he continues to grind against your hand, both of you let out a long low moan simultaneously. 

You jolt as a bolt of burning pleasurable electricity zings through your clit, stronger than the ones before as he loses control slightly, with a glitch as evidence, you whine loudly your hips bucking and tears pricking your eyes as you’re basking in the blue glow of his attention, like the sun, but better. The zap had caused you to gush so much the sofa would definitely need replacing as your legs twitch and tremble. 

“You’re so fucking ready for me, aren’t you? Fuck you feel so good.” Growling as he recovers just enough. 

“I can’t wait any longer, Doll.” He whispers, his voice filled with raw desire. “I need to be inside you... Now.” 

You nod rapidly, gasping and complying as he touches you, guiding you, your legs spreading wider without conscious thought, offering yourself to him as he pulls your hips adjusting you almost frantic now. 

“Please!” You beg, desperate for release, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable, droplets of your juices glistening on your thighs. 

He greedily drinks in the sight of you, his screen fritzing slightly again making you blush at the scrutiny. 

“You sure Doll?” He double checks, sweetly and you melt, nodding, unable to form words. 

His fingers which had been working away at you once more pick up and your head flings back, hurting slightly on the cushioned impact of the sofa arm, as your pussy throbs and contracts as he brings you to the edge, your juices slicking his fingers, proof of your need for him. 

You bite your lip, staring up at him, pleading silently for him to take you, to give you what you need as Vox watches you hungrily pumping his hot hard weeping cock. 

When he finally positions himself at your entrance, you spread your legs wider, straining them with seer need, eager for him not even thinking twice about denying him now, not when you’re so close, he savours the sight for just a moment, his cock poised and ready to enter you. 

As he sinks in slowly, you cry out, arching your back as he loads himself inside you, fighting and teasing the soft clenching cushioned sopping hole every step of the way as it clings to him like his own personalised cocksleeve, only better, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously as you almost cum right then and there. 

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him down to meet your lips in a brutal kiss, needing more, your legs wrapping around the backs of his thighs, pulling him deeper, making you cry out as he impacts your cervix half painfully half pleasurably, the heat from his screen making you crave him more. 

Gripping his shoulders tightly as he begins to move inside you, you could cry in thankfulness as he finally gives you both everything you need, dragging and splashing, moaning and groaning, his thrusts becoming harder and faster with each passing second, lips joined together in a dizzying kiss, you’ve never felt more wanted... More possessed... More pleasured. 

He breaks the kiss panting, his screen fritzing again and buries his face in your neck, angling his and your head just so, to give him access, clearly well practiced by now, just so he can hear your unimpeded sinful gasping moaning and sounds of ecstasy for HIS cock. His teeth scraping against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he claims you in every way possible. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with your loud moans and cries of pleasure, mixing together in a symphony of pure ecstasy. Vox’s hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts again just enough to have your moans change pitch, pinching your nipples between his fingers as he continues to ravish you. 

You finally remember your own hands again and cling to his flexing forearms which only serves to bring you both more pleasure with another shared moan in confirmation, your legs not allowing him to drag out for too long, like he would be tempted to tease now he's finally in your heavenly depths. 

Vox groans as he continues to thrust into you, his body coming alive with each movement. He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, your bodies joined in the most intimate way possible. His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you. 

“Fucking divinity, right here you pretty perfect Little Petal.” Vox moans in your ear. 

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he begins to thrust harder and faster, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable, building heat in you both as your walls tighten around him, and he begins to throb, fire in your lower abdomens. 

Vox can see the pleasure in your eyes, and it only fuels his own determination. He starts to thrust even harder, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies as he pounds you into oblivion. 

His hands move lower, gripping your hips as he ruts into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His cock pulsing incessantly inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Vox leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly. “You’re mine, Baby Doll.” 

His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you, every dip, curve, hard line, and every glistening bead of sweat utterly entrancing. 

He moans, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing inside you, his need for you growing stronger with each thrust. 

He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving love bites in his wake, you enjoying every overwhelming sensation as your nails dig into him and you cling for dear life, unable to match his pace and just letting him take control sliding your whole body up and down on his cock at one point. 

“You’re mine, my dear. Mine to fuck, mine to ravish, mine to possess.” Vox growls possessively as proof, his fingers digging into your hips as he continues to pound into you. 

He can’t get enough of you, he needs more, he needs to claim every inch of you, your tight soft cunt feels so perfect wrapped around his cock, just like he knew it would, and Vox is never letting go now he’s had a taste. 

“You’re so fucking tight, I can barely fucking think!” Vox grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his climax, you moan in agreement at how perfect he feels burrowing a Vox shaped imprint deep in your pliant cunt. 

His tongue snakes out, tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a burning electric feeling behind with every lap against you, you moan as you hear it crackle so close to your ear. 

Vox’s breath suddenly hot against your ear as he whispers sweet nothings to you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking delicious, such a delicate Little Flower aren’t you Pet, you were born to be as beautiful as all the Flora, an entire meadow of Roses could only hope to compare.” 

“Please.... Don’t... Stop... Oh fuck.” You whine, your body convulsing again, feeling his cock spreading you open forcefully with each thrust, it’s maddening, delightful, sinful, heavenly, you can’t think up enough adjectives as your mind also shorts out. Vox watches as your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your tits mesmerising him. 

He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, you wet right cunt trying to drag him in deeper as he has to fight each thrust, just to drag his warm member rubbing every inch of it through your hot wet cunt, just to do it all over again, never wanting this to end, yet desperate for it to end all at the same time. 

His eyes flicker down to your breasts, watching as they bounce freely with each thrust. He reaches out, his hand wrapping around one of them, squeezing it gently as he continues to pound into you, feeling as it tries to resist staying in just one place, to pillowy mound making him throb again and you moan feeling everything. 

His other hand moves lower, teasing your clit with his fingertips, rubbing it in slow circles as he continues to thrust into you, your moaning and thrashing increasing to new heights. 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly.  

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He growls possessively, his fingers pinching your nipple gently. “You love the feeling of my cock stretching you out, filling you up, don’t you? Your cunt is like a little Lotus, so soft and delicate and beautiful like an Azalea... Or perhaps you’re more like Nightshade, as I feel like you could be the death of me” His voice is husky, full of desire and need as he continues to own you. 

His sweet words a massive contrast to how he’s treating your helpless body, not that you’d complain as his cock throbs making your cunt clench again reflexively with another loud moan. 

All you CAN do is moan helplessly your nails finding purchase on his back this time, digging in through his suit jacket, he hadn’t had the patience to discard it in his eagerness to claim you. 

Vox glitches again at your reactions to his rough treatment, enjoying every moment of it, his fans working overtime as he tries to stay in the moment, not wanting to miss even a second. 

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He purrs, the glitching making him repeat himself. 

His hands move back up to grab your breasts, obviously an obsession for him at this point his enthrallment with them hard to miss, squeezing them firmly again as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly using them to steady himself. 

“You’re so fucking sexy; I could fuck you for hours and never get tired of this.” His lips crash down onto yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth as he ravages you. 

“F-f-fuck... ‘Ellmmmm... ‘Ellllp...” You manage to stammer out as you’re so overcome, he’s so very entertained by your plea for mercy, his hips snap forward, driving his cock as deep into you as he can, hitting that spot that makes you scream in pleasure in response. 

You’re panting, moaning loudly, every muscle in your body quivering, he slows slightly as he sees you trying to speak meaningfully. 

“I’m close... Please... Make me cum...” You gasp, begging him to let you release. 

“Not yet...” He growls, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, the sudden change in pace making you scream in agonised pleasure, so overstimulated, tears pricking your eyes at his denial, but he doesn’t want this to end, not yet, not now, not ever. 

He does it again, and again, pulling almost fully out before slamming back in with a wet slap, driving you higher and higher until you’re sobbing from pleasure. 

“You’re going to cum for me, right though Baby Doll... All over my cock... Just like that... Soon I promise,” His voice thick with passion. 

He keeps driving you towards the edge, again and again, never letting you fall over, keeping you on the razor’s edge until he’s ready for you to explode. 

You’re a pleading, soaking, begging mess when finally... 

“Cum for me, Doll... Cum for me now!” He demands, his voice a low snarl, his eyes burning with desire, his thumb merciless against your throbbing needy clit, his cock filling every part of you, your walls fighting him every step of the way as you clamp down so tightly. 

As you reach your peak, the sensation washes over you like a tidal wave, suddenly pulling you under. Your whole-body tenses and spasms, your legs kicking and writhing as he continues to thrust into you as you cum hard, and he moans as your walls ripple and clench around him trying to milk him for everything he has desperately. 

A flood of liquid squirts from your pussy, spraying his belly in powerful bursts, trickling down his cock and onto his balls, pooling in his lap and running down your thighs, making a huge mess as his thrusting causes the sweet-smelling droplets to splash on anything in the near vicinity. 

The sound that escapes him is inhuman, his screen going completely blue momentarily. 

Vox gasps, his eyes flickering back in and widening in shock at the sheer amount of fluid that still gushes from you, he knew you were wet, but nothing could have prepared him for this, his eyes glued to the sight of your pleasure, entranced, his hips faltering ever so slightly, before picking up again, determined to wring as much from your bucking body as possible. 

Vox definitely found a new obsession as the floral scent hits him, strong enough for him to actually smell as it fills the entire office, he’s never needed anything more, and it was something he had no idea he’d ever wanted, moaning at the sheer warmth and feel of your squirting cunt, it was utterly divine, heaven could suck it, because he just found his. 

He keeps trying to control the fritzing of his screen, it would be a crime to miss a moment of this utter glorious display. 

He groans as he continues to thrust into you, maintaining his pace, his fingers rubbing more gently on your overly sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm as he chases his own release within your spasming cunt. 

Vox’s eyes roll back in pleasure as he finally allows himself to let go and cum, pumping his load deep inside you, his hot seed mingling with your wetness, filling you up completely, even spilling out the sides of his embedded cock and flowing out of you in thick spurts as he finishes. 

You moan as you feel the burning sensation of his cum spilling inside you triggering a small involuntary convulsion within you as you scream helplessly as his cum makes you milk him for every last drop, the static electricity seeming to force your body to take every ounce... If only you could breed, the swift thought crosses Vox’s mind momentarily. 

Vox collapses onto you, his chest heaving as he pants heavily, cock still buried deep inside you, arms wrapping around you as he kisses you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth lazily, as he thrusts his hips lazily, making sure to fuck every bit of his cum inside you even deeper. 

You’re panting, moaning weakly, completely spent, your body still tingling from the force of your orgasm, trying desperately to recover enough to at least think straight. 

Vox’s still moving inside you, you vaguely register, driving his cock deeper with each tiny thrust, the pleasure is too much for the both of you, but in the best way possible. 

“So good... So, fucking good...” Vox murmurs against your lips, his breath hot against you, far hotter than you'd ever felt before, you could almost burn yourself on him but miraculously he doesn’t seem to be causing any harm. 

He keeps thrusting seemingly reluctant to stop despite the little jolts of his whole body indicating his own overstimulation, your own lax body matching his jolting with its own. 

He breaks the kiss to press his flat smouldering forehead against yours, his eyes locked with your well fucked gaze, the intensity in his ocean deep eyes taking your breath away. 

But his screen dims enough so he doesn’t hurt your vision, and it helps him begin the cooling down process much faster. 

“You’re mine now, Doll...” Vox whispers possessively, his voice husky with desire and satisfaction. “I’m not letting go of you without a fight, you better believe, the Sins themselves couldn’t pry you from me now.” 

He eventually pulls out slowly, mindfully of your likely sore body, his cock sliding out of you with a heavy thudding wet sound as it hits his thigh, dripping your combined fluids onto the floor as he stands. 

“Y-yes sir.” You manage to shakily pant, your legs trembling and dripping. At his warning look you correct immediately, “V-Vox.” 

“Much better Little Petal.” His suave confidence returning now with ease, he’s the big boss man himself again. 

Vox chuckles as he sees you watching the swaying of his limp cock as he moves, not a clue what you’re thinking, but he likes the look in your eyes, so he starts taking off his clothes properly. 

This time he’s determined to take his time with you and show you what more you could expect from him, his half hard cock standing proudly trying to regain its attentive state already. A much faster refectory time than he’s even used to, he’s definitely not done with you yet... 

Vox smirks, seeing the look of surprise and apprehension on your face, he decided he loved surprising you... Especially with his cock, it’s his new favourite thing. His grin dangerous, promising to devour you.

“What? Did you seriously think I was done with you already Doll? No... Not now I finally have you. It’s late, and you’re Mine.” 

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

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a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Headcannons for Hawks fluffy but little be suggestive if possibly alright.

~🩷

A/n: Yes yes yes yes, I love this. This isn't super long but I hope you enjoy. Nothing makes me happier than receiving requests!! This was a much needed distraction. I have another request I am almost done with too, so expect that Friday.

Hawks Headcanons Part 2: Fried Chicken Boogaloo

Warnings: Suggestive

Keigo wasn’t a jealous or possessive guy, but he loves being able to mark up your neck with lovebites. Not only was it enjoyable to see you writhe when he had his lips on your neck, but he felt proud knowing that people were aware that you’re his.

Keigo is very perceptive of everything going on around him, which works to his advantage when gift giving is one of his top love languages. He is able to notice the way your eyes linger on a certain necklace or outfit and loves to surprise you with those items later on. He is so keenly aware that he notices when something is bothering you. 

And although sometimes he isn’t able to thoroughly articulate the comfort he desperately wants to give, he DOES conveys it through his actions. 

Hugs are 10x better with his wings; it’s like a second pair of arms keeping you warm. 

One of the things he delights in the most is when you share parts of your normalcy with him. Sharing stories about your day while nuzzled up on the couch, or agonizing over an essay due at midnight, or even going to the grocery store. He adores it all because they are the things he lacked as a child, the things he currently lacks as a hero. Keigo doesn’t care if it’s mundane. 

Keigo has a habit of singing or humming when cooking or doing chores. 

PET NAMES! Oh my god does this man love pet names.  He is particularly fond of calling you his little songbird or lovelark. But he does use regular pet names as well, such as darling and baby. 

He is absolutely smitten over the intimacy of skin-on-skin contact, whether that be through sex or something else. When you two sleep together, he sheds all of his clothes hastily - or if it’s right after sex he makes no move to retrieve his clothes. He is also fairly certain he can keep you warmer than any pesky clothing item you may have. 

This man, this fucking BIRD, loves kissing you. Anywhere will do, just as long as it is somewhere. Sweet little kisses on the forehead after a bad day, steamy kisses as he pins you against the wall, loving kisses when you have to part for a significant period of time (anytime away from you is a significant amount), morning kisses painted with streaks of gold, night kisses memorizing curves of your body, ALL OF THEM. HE NEEDS THEM ALL. 

[notthequiettype]

do you have anything you recommend reading that's like. long and achey and romantic? for the sake of escapism..

i don't read a lot of long stories, but i did just scroll through my ~400 bookmarks looking for the longest ones and throw together a collection of stories that i loved tho whether they are long or achy or romantic is ofc up to debate, but i did at the very least go, "oh i think i loved this one" and i definitely had it marked as a rec

please please make sure to read all the available tags/warning/information/etc before reading anything bc i am only throwing the most minimal information in here, the ones with stars are stories i frequently reference to other people or think about a lot or have inspired me to write versions of them in some way, also a lot of these i have not re-read in YEARS but i know i loved them when i read them, so!

okay, love you, hope at least one of these hits the mark for you <3

⭐️ the real thing - sid/geno with a... time travel twist

fastening one heart to every failing thing - sid/geno and soulbonds

nothing to prove - tk/pat college au

⭐️ wax poetic - tk/pat, the waxening

what will survive of us - nicke/ovi, soulbonds

draft class 2015 - mitch/connor/dylan, youthful stupidity

colder weather - jamie/tyler, career ending injury

worse than a boy who hates you - sid/geno, rivalry au

a month of sundays - ej/gabe, real serious religiosity and homophobia

king and lionheart - sid/geno, arranged marriage

salt year - michael latta/tom wilson, career ending injury

⭐️ in the spaces no one looks - connor/leon starts with pride tape

all the way through - sid/geno, sex tape and fake dating

i saw you in the water - tk/pat au

like a pop fly dropping from space - sid/geno baseball au

dream team - nico/tk, nico/pat, the stirrings of tk/pat, all star game

⭐️ schisms - sid/geno, scifi au, space royalty

the stars football au - jamie/tyler, football au that covers some TIME

intangibles - connor mcmichael/hendrix lapierre - rookie foolin'

⭐️ a swedish crown is just seven rubles - nicke/ovi royalty au

all through the night - ej/nate, reading as intimacy

as long as it's about me - mitch/auston, rookie antagonists but not

up the arbor to your door (and more) - sid/geno, accidental cohabitation

camouflage - sid/phil kessel, post-trade, post-outing

⭐️ benediction - pat/mark scheifele, fan/player au, religiosity

how the future knew - tk/pat onlyfans au

all too well - ej/gabe, historical au

⭐️ i wish to be a cornerstone - sid/geno 70s au

just enough rope - brock/petey, soulbonds

the next next one - connor/dylan, career ending injury

as good as a rest - sid/geno, rivals to teammates

antonyms for lost - sid/claude, rivals to teammates

⭐️ all caps - tom wilson/nic dowd, small dick fic does not begin to cover it, this is really THE story of all time to me, can't even count how many times i've reread it

a rec from my wife also: stop making sense - nylander/kapanen, fake dating

a non-hrpf bonus: don't say it's over - charlie conway/adam banks

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

[kumabeom]

saudade love 🫧

fifteen : i tend to laugh whenever im sad.

synopsis : actress!yn and actor!soobin are forced by their companies to date as a publicity stunt to promote their latest releases. however what’s to happen when yn and soobin spend more and more time together even though yn’s closest friend is keeping secrets.

warning : mentions of rashes, a little very little bit suggestive. (please let me know if i should mention anything else)

it was officially time for your movie night, you wore a beautiful lengthy sky blue dress, white butterfly brooches in your hair. your makeup getting touched up before you could head out the car, you and soobin were arriving separately, mainly due to the size of your dress. it was a surprise that your stylist had enough room for herself. you kept your eyes up you felt the brush tingle around the under part of your eyes. finally, one last application of mascara. you opened the door after getting one last look of yourself in your stylist’s handheld mirror. you spotted soobin standing right next to your door, his hand quickly being held out as he saw you coming out, you took his hand sending him a warm smile that tugged at his heart, oh how he found you absolutely so stunning in your blue dress. he was already always so head over heels for you and you always manage a way to look prettier by the second.

“i was beginning to miss you..” soobin chuckled, letting the words escape his mouth as he spoke his truth. a gentle light blush beginning to coat your cheeks.

“oh stop acting like we didn’t see each other when we were getting ready..” soobin smiled, a shy expression on his face as he jokingly got caught. however, something about seeing you in the moment truly felt like he hadn’t seen you in forever. the two of you typically didn’t get too affectionate in front of staff, as you were worried about making them uncomfortable or maybe your managers, who were the only people supposed to know about your relationship, would catch on to the two of you and learn about your real feelings towards one another. but now that the two of you were in public, it felt like you could finally show some affection towards one another and have the excuse of keeping up the act in front of the fans.

soobin placed his hand in yours pointing to a few fans that had spotted the two of you at the side of the whole red carpet set up. the both of you knew very well that they weren’t supposed to be there, but that didn’t stop you and soobin from waving. which gathered a load of yells, causing the actual crowd waiting at the event to look around. you and soobin turned the corner together, using the opportunity to go ahead and do your job on the red carpet. making poses with soobin, at one point even placing a kiss on the collar of his button up. referencing the time you made him go out with kiss marks all over his shirt, and just showing a bit of extra affection. the crowd cheered, even soobin couldn’t help but swoon over you, his arm snaking around and resting on your waist. small giggles leaving you as he began to talk to you.

“yn, you can’t be doing stuff like that to me, you’re making me feel like i’m going to have a heart attack.” you knew fully well what he was trying to say, his heart was racing, subtle pink blush on his cheeks.

“sorry,” you giggled, paparazzi getting pictures of your gleeful smile, eyes crinkling with joy, cheeks nearly aching from just how happy you were. it’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy things, but soobin always gave you a reason to be happy and smile.

the two of you took a few photos together, wondering around the red carpet. you eventually split up to sign a few things for fans that you and soobin had personally invited, taking pictures and having small talk with them. eventually everyone was brought into the theater to watch saudade love. of course you and soobin were expected to share a speech beforehand. you and soobin were the last ones to enter, surprising a certain handful of fans as they weren’t sure if your attendance was confirmed or not. the two of you entered, mic in hand, standing directly in front of the screen.

“soobin and i just wanted to thank you all for being able to make it and accepting our invitation to come, also we actually did try our best to go around and choose people who truly seemed like this would be a dream come true and i hope you all enjoy.” you pass the mic to soobin, bringing it up to his lips.

“also we will be watching saudade love here with you guys and i really hope you all like it, if this is your first time watching saudade love, i hope you really like it !” and with that you and soobin took a seat right next to each other and close to a few fans, of course, you unfortunately had to spend the entire movie in such an uncomfortable outfit, beginning to feel a bit of the stitching dig into your skin. the itchy fabric causing a rash to spread around your body, but you tried your best to put on a proper face. soobin noticed your discomfort, seeing the way you tried to adjust your position every other second. he couldn’t really see your rashes in the dark but he could see the way your hands would trace over the same areas of your skin every few seconds. he leaned on his elbow, which was resting in the arm rest next to you.

“do you want to go see if there’s a switch of clothes..?” soobin questioned, quietly chattering so that it wouldn’t disrupt anyone’s experience. you wanted to lie and just brush the whole thing off, but you seriously couldn’t deal with the itchiness anymore, reluctantly nodding your head, as soobin stood up, quickly pulling his hand out to you as he was afraid to block anybody’s view. you followed soobin, accepting his hands as he helped you walk down the theater’s stairs exiting the room. luckily your team was just outside of the room, most of them on standby due to certain responsibilities they hand. and finally, in the light, soobin was able to see the few small red areas over your skin. noticing just how hard you had picked at certain parts of your body. your team was quick to respond also seeing the damage that the fabric had done, quickly moving you into a private room, which soobin couldn’t help but follow as he felt quite worried for you.

the change of outfits took a second to complete, there were a few steps needed before you could change, like approval from the styling team and putting up a different outfit that would still fit the theme of the movie while still being able to reduce the cause of your uncomfort. you couldn’t help but feel sorry as the entire situation unfolded, feeling guilty for causing so much trouble to your team. you sat on a random wooden chair that soobin had pulled out next to you, he rubbed your back, attempting to help soothe the pain whilst you waited for backup. he placed a tiny kiss on your hand, brushing away a few hair whisps from your face.

it didn’t take unbearably long for your styling team to roll in with a few options. one being a black, satin, mermaid-strapless dress, with a red bedazzled kiss on the side which you ended up loving. apparently all the options had been potential options for the entire night. your choice had been taken into consideration and not wanting to have the same mistake occur, your option won. the styling team left you with only your close staff as even soobin left the room to let you switch into different clothing.

as soon as you finished, you got out, seeing soobin waiting patiently. putting your hand in his as a sign that you were all ready. he noticed a few differences in your makeup and hair, the red areas of skin still visible but no longer bothering you. he honestly believed that you were so stunning.

“by the way, thank you.. i seriously think that if you hadn’t stepped in, that i would still be sitting there all itchy.” you said, looking up to soobin with the most heartfelt eyes, loving glow emitting from your stare.

“of course, but does it not still itch ?”

“a little, but it’ll go away, my manager gave me something that’s supposed to help.” you smiled, he removed his hand from yours, instead placing his arm around your shoulder, wanting to feel closer to you. “they said that maybe the fabric had caused a bit of an allergic reaction, and that the tightness only added to it..”

“but you’re okay now, right ?”

“yup, there’s no need to worry, i got checked medically and it’s all okay.” you gave soobin the shiniest smile you could ever give, sending a wave of relief to him.

the two of you quickly returned to your seats in the theater, realizing that by the time you had returned, the movie was nearly halfway through. the rest of the movie went by in a blink of an eye, you enjoyed hearing the crowds reaction throughout the entire thing. there was also one more event that you needed to attend before calling it a day, with each big event, there was typically an after party, where close friends and even a few other celebrities would meet up. tonight, as much as you’d love to go home and rest with soobin, was one of those after parties, in celebration for saudade love’s movie night.

you and soobin held hands as you waited for your ride, this time being able to go together as you had a much more flexible dress. you looked at soobin’s collar, noticing that your kiss print was still so visible, the corners of your lips turning in to a happy smirk. soobin caught you smiling to yourself from his peripheral vision, “what are you smiling about ?”

“oh nothing..” you giggled, but he noticed where your eyes were directed to and it definitely was not his eyes.

“you sure love kissing me when i wear completely white button ups.”

“how can i not, love showing you off..” he watched as your free hand began to clench around air, you were completely fangirling right in front of him.

“you’re so cute, i could honestly just kiss you right now.”

“and what’s stopping you ?” you teased, knowing how shy soobin was and you knew that he never really showed too much pda. however, as soon as you finished your statement, soobin’s lips were on yours, giving you a tender yet short kiss.

you were two happy people, enjoying your youth with each other, staring at each other like your lives depended on it.

you and soobin locked yourselves into a separate living room, completely empty and away from all the noise. away from all the people trying to offere you mixed of alcoholic beverages. it was just the two of you.

soobin hovered over you, your back against some kind of drawer. staring a loving gaze into your eyes, his hand caressing the side of your cheek. you couldn’t stop, you could feel his gaze completely enchanting you, the corners of your lips tugging into a smile. observing his features, taking note of everything, all of his charms showing, your heart pattering against your chest. if it wasn’t for the loud music vibrating around the entire house, you were sure that soobin would’ve been able to hear your heart beat.

“so so pretty..” he whispers, yet loud enough for you to hear through the music which was a little muffled. your hands moved to his shoulders, removing the tuxedo vest that he had on, leaving your hands on his chest as his vest fell to the floor.

his lips neared your lips, moving his lips to your cheek right before his lips could meet yours. your breathing began to quicken as you felt his lips against your jaw.

“soobin.” adoration filled your eyes, holding on to his hand. “i really love you..” you confessed, you’ve told each other that you loved one another so much, but something about this time was different, it your cheeks completely pink. you were feeling so euphoric, happy that soobin was right in front of you and things were like how they were. your hand in his, his warmth spreading throughout your body. soobin’s lips stopped as he moved his head a bit just enough to make eye contact with you.

“love you so very much, my sweet angel.” you couldn’t even believe the fact that you were smiling much wider than you’ve ever smiled. he pulled you into a sweet, warm kiss. his lips on yours as you used your free hand to go up to his hair. a strawberry flavor lingering on your lips from whatever gloss soobin had used.

and that’s when the door swung open, you and soobin stopping nearly immediately. suddenly he was 5 ft away from you, which was a huge exaggeration on your part, but it surely felt like it. your eyes gazed towards the door, finally spotting yeji as she stood by the door. her hand hanging onto the door handle, her cheeks a bright beet red.

“oh… umm.. yeonjun was looking for you..”

“i’ll go down in a second” you quickly answer, hoping for yeji to take the hint and leave. but she only kept her position by the door.

you unfortunately made your way through to get to yeonjun. pushing and shoving almost bodies out the way, upset that yeonjun practically cut your session with soobin to an end. as you reached him, you held on to his shoulder, barely getting through, as he turned his head over towards you, reaching to support you on your way over to him. you tried to stay close to yeonjun, feeling uncomfortable from the amount of bodies so close to you. the loud music in your ear, the feeling of your body surrounded by so many others, the smell of the alcohol. it was all so overwhelming, however, you attempted your best to shake it off.

“yeji said you needed me” you yelled, your voice barely being caught up by yeonjun, he only furrowed his eyebrows, confusing you into thinking that he hadn’t heard you at all. but all he did was shake his head.

“no, i knew you were with soobin so i purposely didn’t want to call you. i mean i wasn’t going to call you at all, but i knew that if i needed something, that you were busy.” yeonjun spoke over the loud music. you were so confused. had yeji just lied directly to your face? honestly the whole scene had made you feel kind of anxious. you left the crowd of people searching for soobin, before having a sudden feeling to check the room you were just in. you closed the door behind you as soon as you saw soobin’s figure.

“have you seen yeji ? yeonjun said that he didn’t need me..?”

“yn and yeonjun are always together.. sometimes it makes me feel kind of left out.” yeji says, looking right at you and yeonjun.“i mean yn did have that dating scandal with yeonjun… and what i can say is that it seemed pretty real and of course im talking from my perspective.. they would always disappear together.. next thing i knew, they would definitely comeback looking like they did something together.

“yn.. by the way, are you sure he’s just a friend?” soobin asked, heart pounding, so sick and worried to find out the truth. after everything that yeji had told him, he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to find out the honest answer.

“yeonjun? a lot of my friends are here tonight, soob..” you felt a little bit worried, the way this whole situation was playing out made you feel worried. butterflies in your stomach, but not in such a positive manner.

“yeonjun..”

“yep ! i’m so sorry i haven't gotten to introduce you to him.. today is kinda hectic, but it was so much fun too! oh, i did get to meet your friends, maybe we can schedule a meeting so that you can meet yeonjun. he’s been like a brother to me and i’d really like it for you two to meet !” you excitedly exclaim.

“i dunno.. you guys seemed really close.”

“soobin.. are you trying to imply something ?”

“just be honest, are you or are you not seeing yeonjun !” soobin argued, his eyebrows beginning to furrow. a complete switch in character, from talking calmly and all of a sudden he’s having an outburst.

“i am not, im not seeing anyone else but you. and i’d like to understand why you feel like interrogating me over my friendship…” you try your best to stay calm, attempting to be understanding and patient with the boy who just accused you of doing wrongful things. a bit of guilt trips over you, as you look back on every interaction you’ve had with yeonjun that could make him think so little of you. you never meant to make soobin feel like you were cheating on him. the closest you had even been with yeonjun was a simple greeting hug, but to you and him, that was completely normal and it should’ve been normal under any circumstance.

“y’know damn well that yeji told me to keep an eye out-“

“wait.. yeji ?”

“yes, yeji. she told me everything, about how you and yeonjun are exes who are always going back and forth.”

“you mean yeji, my ‘friend’ who was literally sneaking into your trailer the entire time we filmed saudade love.. y’know, the time that we were practicing a scene together and she just bursted right in.” you couldn’t help but feel a bit agitated, you were slowly attempting to distance yourself from yeji after you felt quite uncomfortable being around her. she always seemed to know when to burst you and soobin into reality. “oh fuck soobin. you’re really taking advice from yeji.”

“yn she had proof ! am i just supposed to turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re fucking your best friend behind my back.” because damn well soobin knew he was pushing his own narrative, yeji had shown him absolutely nothing, but the way she worded things made things seem deeper than they truly were. however, yeji knew what she was doing in that moment, and she knew she was going to get what she wanted.

“fuck you, i have never even once thought or even wished to sleep with yeonjun. but fuck whatever i say, right ? yeji showed you all this proof and certainly that means more than the words of a ‘cheater’.” soobin felt his heart pang, he was the one who came in spewing nonsense, and he couldn’t help but truly trust yeji.

“yn, i can’t ignore all the facts, you know it. she has proof and yes, in this scenario, i would much rather trust someone who knows what she is talking about than someone who has been lying to me for months.” that was ironic, you knew what you were talking about. and you surely don’t know any of whatever yeji showed soobin, you understood where he was coming from, but even after he asked you if you were seeing yeonjun, he didn’t bother to things from your perspective.you could nearly laugh at how frustrated you were getting.

“okay, if you’re so desperate to call it quits, we can. i would’ve rather you be honest and tell me that you don’t want this and we could’ve moved on.. i hadn’t realized that you would’ve stooped so low to call me a fucking cheater.”

“fine. then we’re done.”

and once again, miscommunication won.

©️kumabeom

taglist (send asks !) : @run2seob @soobadooba @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @wonjws @yourenzoo @missychief1404 @304blur @coconutjjun @theycallmelolla @girlz4jaem @everythingvirgoes @pinkhor1zon @nshitae @damn-u-min-yoongi @jiweok @wonderstrucktae @thing89 @pagetammgyu @virgo-and-libra @blossommi @cheekycountesschoi @taysfairies @20-cms @soobiluvr1205

an: i know it’s been a long time since i posted, but i was genuinely stressing out about this chapter before i announced saudade love and im so sorry that it took me this long for me to write. i started writing this actual chapter (not the other drafts) about two months ago ?? and ive been slowly adding onto it and even though it is maybe a little short compared to how long it took me to write, i am just happy that im getting this out there. and also i wanna bring up some personal thoughts. last night was election night in the usa. for anybody out there who is a woman, a person of color, someone who is a part of the lgbtq+ community, etc. i just hope that you know that you are loved, these next 4 years are going to be hard. as a woman, and as a mexican, bisexual woman, i hope that we can all do our best to stay together. i love you all so so much and i hope everyone stays safe <3

[tutoriel12]

in response to your beautiful “fraud Stan” art (again, beautiful btw)

i think stanFORD was one of those dudes who hated nickname and was very serious about his full name being use at all times. the only one who were allowed to give him nicknames was his brother (who did it out of honest love) and bill (who capitalized on “love” to control him).

versus stanLEY was the sibling/brother/friend who had a million nicknames are responded to them all; stan, stan-the-man, s-man, stanny, stan lee not the comic man. other horrible name examples. he was used to changing his name several times that anything that remotely SOUNDS like a name, he’d answer to it; the only word that felt like a nickname he EARNED was “grunkle”.

again, your art is beautiful and i hope you don’t mind me throwing this at you. smooches <3

oh my goodness thank u so much!! <33 im both flattered and a bit overwhelmed by the reception that piece has gotten. ohh man im so glad you sent because i have so so many thoughts on both of them!!

anyway. ur so very real. stanford pines is someone that had a very established identity from the beginning. he was a genius brainiac that didn't fit in with other kids, singled out from the beginning both by personality and by body. his six fingers serve as a constant reminder that he can't be anyone else but him. of course he'd search for acceptance through the thing he ties his self worth to: his intelligence. of course he'd fall victim to the first person who told him his existence was something to be celebrated!! he looks at his name, once with distaste, nowadays with neutral acceptance. he's stanford pines, he has six fingers, and he does not do well with people.

on the contrary, stanley pines…didn't have any of that. he was overlooked by his father, wishing he could get the same recognition as ford. he didn't have any merits of his own. barely passing highschool, on the verge of losing ford, and seemingly destined to stay in glass beach forever, his teenage years were marked by a desperation to hold onto whatever connections he had. after getting kicked out, he still lives in the shadow of his brother - trying constantly to achieve a success that would compare to ford's brilliance. his name didn't mean shit; it was his brother who mattered. stanley pines can turn into whoever and whatever he needs because he never had an identity worth holding onto in the first place.

in an ironic twist of fate, stanley ends up living with his brother's name, borrowing off of his achievements in order to both survive and save him. the mystery shack is now a lively place for random kids he managed to sort of adopt in spite of himself. ford isolated himself from everyone that cared about him; stan took his life and made it into a home. he was never brilliant like his brother, but the love he has for his family transformed ford's path of destruction into one of renewal. he saved his brother by destroying his life.

it's the nature of twins have their existence intertwined beyond seperation. stanley and stanford's lives align to save each other.

[mc-lukanette]

"I can't believe you," Marinette huffed, pouting and gently cleaning the dirt from Luka's arm.

He frowned sympathetically. "Marinette..."

She didn't respond, shaking with emotion on all the bruises and marks left on him. She knew it wasn't serious and it wasn't like it was his fault. She wasn't angry with him either, just confused.

Did all this really happen over pizza of all things?

She only really knew what he'd told her. Apparently, he'd been working at his part-time job and an adult thought they could just "take the pizza off his hands." Maybe they were in a bad mood, or they simply thought they could take advantage of a teenager, but Luka had gotten knocked off his bike and a scuffle ensued when he refused.

How adults were somehow less mature than half of the teenagers she knew, she had no idea.

Nevertheless, Luka was decently fit (he could lift an entire Marinette when ice skating and rode his bike around everywhere, after all) so he managed well enough, eventually ending up in Marinette's room. She'd forced him to sit on the chaise lounge despite his concerns about getting it dirty, his hoodie and jacket discarded so she could properly tend to him. His Jagged Stone t-shirt was sleeveless and allowed her easy access to his shoulders.

She glared, inspecting his arm once more to be certain it was clean, then got up and sat on his other side to inspect the opposite arm. Being clumsy, she'd gotten many injuries over the course of her life and thus was basically an expert at first aid. The fact that it was Luka she was tending to made her even more determined to do it right; she might've gotten a little lazy with it if she'd been doing it for herself.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I hate worrying you."

She shot him a look, but it crumbled at the sadness in his eyes. Sighing, she held his arm a little closer than necessary and retorted, "No, it's okay. I probably worry you all the time too." With a dramatic flair, she added, "So we're even."

He gave her that lopsided smile that always seemed reserved just for her, then let her continue in pleasant silence. Marinette, staring at his upper arm, noted that she'd never actually seen it before due to how often he wore hoodies and jackets. Just as she'd imagined, there was a bit of muscle there, and she wondered if she might've seen it if she'd gone below deck when she visited Juleka at the Liberty one night. Perhaps he would've been in his pajamas, and—

Marinette cleared her throat, forcing the thought out of her head. Catching his curious gaze, she hurried to say, "I-it's nothing. You're toned, that's all."

Her face flushed at the Freudian slip, but Luka took it in stride. With a tilt of his head, he asked playfully, "Because I like music?"

He'd known exactly what she meant, yet gave her an out. She squeezed her eyes shut, blushing deeper as her mind screamed, You're too good for me!

"Anyway," she carried on as casually as she could. She searched lower on his body and experimentally prodded at his ribcage, which she'd been planning on doing before but now served the purpose of an excuse not to make eye contact with him. "Does it hurt here?"

Bless him, he went along with it. "No."

She poked lower at his stomach. "Here?"

"No."

She peeked through the rips of his shirt just to be sure, but thankfully didn't see anything concerning. "What about over here?"

She gently pressed her fingers into his side and felt him tense, a startled hiss coming out of him. Carefully, she lifted his shirt and winced at the sight of the bruise forming there.

"Does it hurt normally?" she asked, trying to delicately feel around the bruise to confirm that nothing was actually damaged. Everything felt okay, but he took a sharp intake of breath like it wasn't. She looked up, surprised. "S-sorry! Was my hand cold?"

"Don't worry," he assured oddly quickly. His cheeks were a light shade of pink. "It's nice."

"Oh."

She turned to her phone briefly to text her parents about getting an ice pack from the freezer whenever they had a moment to spare, then set it aside to focus on Luka again. Figuring it was better than nothing, she kept his shirt raised and slid the back of her fingers along the bruising, appointing herself as a substitute for the time being. He shivered at the contact, but didn't complain.

They both weren't looking at each other now. She thought she'd gotten rid of her blush, but the mood in the room brought it back.

"Ah, so... were you that worried about your boss?" she asked, because the topic of the day appeared to be changing topics.

"Hm?"

She let the shirt fall, only supported by her fingers against his side, so she could grab his forearm and turn it over. Eyeing the place that'd clearly been scuffed when he caught himself against the pavement, she pointed out, "You could've handed the pizza over; it wouldn't have been that big of a deal." She paused, thinking it over. "Unless—maybe you were delivering to a really poor family? And that pizza was the only food they were going to get that day?"

It sounded like something Luka would do, so she was already worrying over the fictional financially-challenged family she'd just made up in her head.

He chuckled. "No, it wasn't like that. My boss was upset about me getting beat up, but they would've had to take it out of my paycheck if I didn't deliver anything."

"But was it worth it?" She tried not to sound like she was scolding him. "Are you saving up for something?"

He didn't respond right away and she dared a peek at his face. Though his head was turned away from her, she could almost see the debate going on in his head over whether or not he should say anything.

"Luka?" she called, wondering if this involved a surprise of some sort. "Is it about someone's birthday or something? I won't tell—"

"Next week," he finally answered. The idea of her getting the wrong impression must've stirred him into action.

She blinked. "What about next..."

She trailed off as it clicked. While she didn't have extensive knowledge of Luka's schedule, she did know that Luka hadn't had plans next week aside from one thing, as they'd chosen that week together because neither of them had plans otherwise. They'd set up a big day together to just have for themselves: a trip to the aquarium, going to the cinema for a movie, picking a random place they'd never been to eat, and so much more that she couldn't even remember in her state of shock.

"We promised to split the cost," Luka confirmed, aware that she'd already come to the correct conclusion. "I wanted to make sure I had as much as possible, just in case."

Her mouth dropped open, heart wrenching while simultaneously picking up in pace. He knew - must've known - that she wouldn't have cared if he came up a little short. She would've been more relieved that he'd avoided a physical confrontation.

But it'd been important to him to have money he could spend on her, on the two of them together. Perhaps it was just how he felt, or some standard he was holding himself to even if he wasn't aware of it.

Her hands shot up, one to grasp at the strap of his shirt closest to her and the other at his face to turn his head towards her.

"Ah." He grimaced. "You didn't do anything wrong, Marinette. I was the one who—"

She pulled him in and kissed him with a vengeance. She kissed him for all the kindness he'd given her, all the time they'd spent together, how utterly stupid he could be around her while thinking that it was normal, and also because she desperately, deeply wanted to. He stayed frozen the whole time, entirely unlike the calm, melodic movements everyone knew him for.

There was a loud "popping" noise when she broke away from him, out of breath and face feeling hot enough that she thought she might start sweating. Her grip on Luka's shirt had been so tight that her nails left tiny impressions in her palms as she let go, the wrinkled strap falling loosely off his shoulder.

Luka was wide-eyed, staring unblinkingly at her.

"D...don't do that ever again. You're too precious to me," she murmured, the situation slowly catching up with her. She had to metaphorically drag the embarrassment out from the back of her mind or risk being totally lost to the euphoria of kissing the boy she loved. The words may have left a vague implication that he belonged to her and she didn't want anyone so much as laying a hand on him, but she didn't take it back or clarify any further.

Barely remembering to breathe, she tore her attention from him to his lap. She could only hope that he wouldn't be upset in any way. "I-I should, um... check here too. Pull your pant legs up."

She reached a tender hand out to touch his thigh, but Luka's hand was suddenly on her wrist, keeping it in place. She jumped, initially anxious, but noticed that his grip wasn't so tight as to hurt her.

"You don't have to do that," he said. Given the situation, it sounded like an odd thing to say.

"W-what?"

She met his gaze, confused, and saw in his eyes that he wasn't the least bit upset. In fact, his eyes were gleaming, his body turning towards her and his face closing the distance she made. She watched with captivated eyes and he raised her hand up, kissing her palm where the impression of her nails had been.

Somehow, she heard his voice over the pounding in her ears, soft and loving as he whispered, "You already kissed me better."

In a perfect mirroring of what she'd done a few seconds ago, his other hand cupped her cheek and pulled her back in. It brought their lips together once again and she melted, needing no further explanation to understand. She leaned back intentionally to fall back on the chaise lounge and let him on top of her mid-kiss, not wanting to risk the tempting urge to climb onto his lap when his legs might be hurt.

She couldn't bring herself to care if her parents showed up right then with an ice pack. The tiny part of her mind that could focus on anything but the kiss was too busy planning out a few extra "events" for next week.