#one of the shadows are called bob

[perilusjax]

Title: Queen of Shadows

Danny and Bruce have been dating for years before Bruce joined the JL. After the Dracula incident, Danny gave Bruce a few guardian spirits. They only come out when dealing with magical problems, so most others don't know about them.

Unknown to either of them, the whole JL think Batman is an amalgamation of shadows. Thanks to the shadows disliking how they treat the Queen.

[grace-aline]

Why I think Bob Newby had to die (part 1: a postscript)

On being consumed by the abnormal

It's difficult to name our last glimpse of Bob because the Duffers love themselves a good flashback. The fact that Joyce has several concerning Bob could be a whole other post. I could fairly confidently put 'extremely veiled allusion to Bob/Bob flashback' on my Season 5 bingo card, let's put it that way.

What I'm talking about, though, is the last time we actually see Bob linearly, as opposed to a memory of him. I's not a very pleasant moment; he's being torn apart by Demodogs. I'll spare you the GIF, although I do think it's a striking shot and a masterclass in practical and visual effects, because anyone who is familiar with Season 2 has that bird's-eye view of his desiccated body burned into their retinas.

In my last post, I talked about Bob's thematic value to the Duffers. I argued that he is the perfect candidate for a transformation from someone achingly, comfortingly normal into something abnormal, corrupted by supernatural trauma.

But by the last time Bob is physically present in the show, ravenous Demodogs have taken things a step further. Bob's face is still recognisable, but the frozen, dumbstruck expression on it is horrible and new. Because in the end, the Upside Down doesn't just traumatise him; it literally consumes him. He actually becomes a part of it, sustaining the supernatural ecosystem feeding off his body.

Horrible, I know, but also true, I think.

The conclusion that Bob was actually, physically kind of absorbed by the Upside Down is a bit whacky, I know. But just stick with me here, I think I might be onto something.

Reason 1: Bob's disappearing act

First and foremost, it is actually strange that after that haunting final shot of his corpse, Bob is simply no more. No funeral, no grave, no photos, no belongings in Joyce's house for her to come across and cry over. Sure, his ghost haunts the show through flashbacks, drawings, even in a news report; in any way that isn't physical evidence of his existence.

And what's even weirder is that after Season 2, no character ever mentions him again. He literally never comes up again, he's never directly mentioned or indirectly referred to by another character. No one even says his name.

And I know they would've cleaned out the Lab after so many people died there in Season 2, but hell, Bob Newby's death is arguably the goriest death in the whole show; which is quite the mantle, considering how violent ST can get; but when Hopper and Joyce return to that exact spot a year later, there is not a single blood-stained tile or indication that someone had died a graphic, messy death there.

It's fucking weird, is what it is. The way that any physical, tangible manifestation of Bob is just wiped from the show.

(Almost as if the Upside Down had consumed him, you could say.)

Reason 2: It's happened before, and it's happened since

Way back in Season 1, whilst searching for Will, Eleven comes across the body of Barbara Holland. We see her again an episode later, when Hopper and Joyce are searching the Upside Down version of Hawkins Library for Will. In both scenes, and without going into too much gory detail, the grotesque state her body is in is confirmation that Barb is definitely dead.

Now, you could argue that from a purely cinematic perspective, the inclusion of Barb's body is designed solely for shock value; it serve to scare the audience a bit, to up the stakes and tension for surviving characters, and of course, to tug on the viewer's heartstrings. That bird's-eye shot of Bob does a similar job.

From an analytical perspective, though, the deteriorated state of Barb's corpse can be read as a kind of fatalistic symbolism. Barb was also literally consumed by the Upside Down. Her horrific postmortem reappearance makes her a convincing part of the scenery in an alternate dimension otherwise inhospitable to warm, familiar forms of life.

And she's not the only one. This happens just about every time there's a supernatural death in the show. Shocking, Upside Down-ified imagery of their corpse, then the disappearing act begins, rinse and repeat. When the supernatural gets you, it seems to keep you.

Still not convinced? After all, so far I've put forward circumstantial, educated guess work. Nothing concrete, nothing canonical. Yet.

Reason 3: What we know about Vecna/Henry Creel

Enter a villain who tells everyone the details of his masterplan before he kills them.

Fast forward to Season 4. We're introduced to the Mind Flayer's "five star general" Vecna, who is systematically terrorising and murdering the traumatised youth of Hawkins (one thing that Hawkins never seems to be deficient in.)

As it turns out, Vecna was always there, pulling the strings side-stage. A dominant force in the Upside Down's hivemind complex, it's implied that Vecna was aware of, and even somewhat responsible for all supernatural deaths in the show to date. Following the Hawkins Lab massacre, Vecna lets Eleven in on a rather morbid little secret: "With each life I took, I grew stronger. More powerful. They were becoming a part of me." The implication here is that Vecna kills, not only to "restore balance to a broken world", but to transform the lifeforce of the victim into energy. (A theory confirmed once again by Brenner's initial studies of Henry in The First Shadow, if I recall correctly.)

Vecna's powers allow him to tamper with, but not erase memory. As far as we know, Vecna has no interest in, and in any case no ability to remove the drawing of Bob Newby, Superhero from Joyce's fridge. Nor to prevent memories of TV dinners and Cheers from resurfacing every time Joyce finds herself alone on her couch after her boyfriend's death.

And yet. As we've established, Bob's physical imprint; his body, his name; is banished from the show post Season 2. Vecna may not be able to erase memories, but he can erase people. Because people seem to give him energy, power, and above all, a way to frighten and taunt the living.

In other words, Vecna couldn't leave it at permanent abnormality and a slap on the wrist for Bob Newby.

He had to die, to be consumed.

[ditzybat]

i love the headcannon that both tim and cass look scarily alike, to the point they could be twins.

like they both share the same general lithe build, they’re the same short height, cass has a short bob while tim has his baby mullet, their training is similar due to their backgrounds with lady shiva and the loa, and (depending on your headcanon) both waisan- so i can definitely see instances where they’re confused for each other or where they mess with everyone around them.

cass on patrol in red robin gear so tim can go on a date with bernard:

random thugs seconds away from being one hit k.o’d: yo since when did red robin start melting into the shadows like an eldritch horror?

jason: hey tim -

cass: wrong.

jason: no, im pretty sure you’re tim, i gave you that scar right there in your neck

cass: nu-uh, this is from cain

jason:

cass:

jason: well this got awkward…

steph hugging tim from behind: hey babe

tim: wrong wayne

steph: ew, i should’ve known, your ass isnt nearly as —

tim walking away with his fingers in his ears: lalalalala im not listening to you

damian: i think you’re the only one in this family i respect

tim who has been silently hanging out with him for the past 3 hours: aw thanks damian, i’ve come to love you like a brother too

damian: drake? i thought you were cassandra, my apologies, i retract my previous statement

tim: don’t care, you love me, don’t try to deny it

lady shiva hugging both tim and cass: my beautiful twins, such well trained weapons, unfortunate that you both ended up with cain

bruce pulling his children back: tim isnt yours…

shiva: well that cant be right, he’s s the spitting image of my sister carolyn, and that birth was far too painful to only produce one small child

tim: woah full circle, my drag-sona is called caroline, maybe you are my mom, i wouldn’t put it past janet drake to adopt

bruce: tim no, you’re not even the same type of asian

cass: too late, we’re blood

shiva: see!

[megalony]

You Called My Wife?

This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Masterlist

Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.

If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.

His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.

It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.

They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.

Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.

He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.

He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.

He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.

Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.

It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.

He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.

After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.

He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.

It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.

A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.

"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.

The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.

He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.

When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.

He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.

He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.

"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.

He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.

"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."

He didn't know what happened.

One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.

His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.

But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.

The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.

The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.

The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.

An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.

The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.

Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.

It felt like he'd been shot in the head.

He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.

The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.

"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.

The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.

"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.

His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.

"I'm sorry-"

A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.

"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.

Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.

"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.

He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.

The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.

He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.

He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.

"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.

The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.

"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.

Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.

His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.

Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.

He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.

He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."

True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.

By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.

"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.

They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.

He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.

"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."

Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.

Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.

A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.

"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.

"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.

***

"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"

He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.

Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.

Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.

She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.

The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.

"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.

"He's with a doctor, come with me."

(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.

She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?

She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.

"What happened?"

"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."

(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.

That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.

Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.

It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.

Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.

Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.

"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.

Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.

"You called my wife?"

The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.

There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.

"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."

Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.

"You're married?"

"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.

She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.

With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.

He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.

He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.

Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.

For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.

With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.

"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."

"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.

He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.

"How bad is it then?"

Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.

He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.

His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.

All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.

"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.

"I can think of a few things."

"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.

"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.

He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.

"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."

Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.

"When can I take him home?"

"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."

Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.

A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.

Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.

"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."

"Copy that."

"Thank you for patching him up."

When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.

The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.

"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.

She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.

"But I know you love my war wounds."

[faebled-stories]

Under Control

Le Sserafim's Kim Chaewon x Male reader

AN: First time writing smut and male reader. all for the request of my friend. (you know who you are)

Chaewon had always been the kind of person who thrived on control, keeping people at arm’s length with her sharp tongue and biting wit. Even before Yunjin met her, Chaewon had already cemented a reputation for being difficult—a self-proclaimed “brat” who could both charm and irritate in equal measure. Her mastery in pushing buttons was unmatched; it was as if she derived amusement from digging under people’s skin, just to watch them squirm.

Tonight was no different.

The soft hum of the café filled the background as Yunjin glanced at Chaewon from across the table. The overhead lights cast a warm glow, contrasting with the chill of the iced coffee Yunjin gripped in her hand. Outside, the faint sound of rain tapping against the windows added a rhythm to the evening, a subtle underscore to the tension simmering between them.

"You know unnie," Yunjin muttered, her patience starting to fray, "one of these days, your attitude is going to backfire." She took a long sip, savoring the brief respite as the coolness of the drink soothed her frustration.

Chaewon, lounging back in her chair with her usual casual defiance, smirked. The sharp lines of her bob cut swayed slightly as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with the challenge she knew Yunjin was trying to avoid. "Backfire? Please. You know people love me for it, they pretty much beg me just to be in the same room. I can't help that I'm all that"

The confidence in her voice was almost palpable, filling the space around them. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass, a small, idle gesture that betrayed just how much she reveled in Yunjin's irritation. It was a game she loved to play—pushing, prodding, and watching to see how far she could go.

Yunjin sighed, rolling her eyes, the exhale carrying the weight of her exasperation. "It's exhausting, unnie. You keep everyone at a distance, do you know how many people come up to me and the rest of the members begging us to pass on a message to you. Not everyone’s going to play along with your games forever, you know."

Chaewon merely shrugged, her smirk unfazed. "Maybe I just haven't met someone interesting enough to bother with, actually no, it's impossible because no one will be able to stop me" She leaned forward slightly, the playful air around her intensifying. The soft light caught the edge of her grin, casting a mischievous shadow over her sharp features.

But Yunjin wasn’t letting it slide this time. Her eyes narrowed, lips twitching as a sly smile began to form. The café’s ambient noise faded for a moment as she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Oh, don’t worry. That’s about to change."

For the first time that night, Chaewon's smirk faltered. She blinked, her brow furrowing just slightly as she caught the shift in Yunjin’s tone. There was something different here, something she couldn't quite place. “What are you plotting now?” The suspicion in her voice was thinly veiled, her usual bravado giving way to the sliver of wariness that had begun to creep in.

The café lights seemed to dim just a fraction as Yunjin picked up her phone, her fingers dancing over the screen with a practiced ease, the number wasn't saved but her fingers seemed to by typing out of muscle memory. Her smile grew, her excitement barely contained as she made the call, sealing the fate of the days to come.

“Hey… yeah its Jen, I need to borrow you… no no no, not for me but for a friend”

---

Days later, the sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a deep orange glow over the café’s interior. Chaewon’s arrival was met with the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations blending together. She slid into her usual seat across from Yunjin, her sharp eyes immediately picking up on her friend’s uncharacteristic excitement.

"Okay, spill." Chaewon’s eyebrow arched as she studied Yunjin’s barely concealed glee. "What’s going on? You’ve got that look again."

Yunjin leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that seemed to hover between them. "You’re going to love him."

Chaewon crossed her arms, her posture stiffening as skepticism washed over her. The café’s warm light bathed her in an amber hue, highlighting the suspicion etched into her features. “What? Who are you talking about? What are you planning, Yunjin?”

Yunjin’s grin widened, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Just trust me. He’s perfect for you, in more ways than one.”

A faint drizzle had begun outside, the rain tapping lightly against the window panes as Chaewon’s curiosity was piqued despite her better judgment. She huffed, feigning disinterest even though her mind was already racing through the possibilities. “I swear, if hes like anyone of the weirdos i’ve met i'm going to kill you”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Yunjin interjected with a barely suppressed chuckle. “He’s not what you’re expecting.”

The rain outside grew heavier, the pattering against the glass intensifying as if matching the undercurrent of tension that began to fill the space between them. Chaewon’s gaze flickered to the window, watching the droplets streak down before returning to Yunjin, her suspicion deepening. She could feel something shifting—something inevitable on the horizon, just out of reach.

“Cmon it's almost time” the red head pulled her leader out of her chair as the excitement was too much for her to handle.

---

The bar’s atmosphere was different from the quiet warmth of the café—darker, more intimate. The amber glow of low-hanging lights bathed the space in a soft golden hue, casting long shadows across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of worn leather and whiskey, mingling with the low murmur of voices and the steady thrum of background music. It was the perfect setting for what was about to unfold.

Yunjin leaned against the bar, tapping her nails on the counter as Chaewon adjusted in her seat. The space was comfortable, the kind of place they frequented, but something about the air tonight felt heavier, more charged. Chaewon’s eyes flitted toward the door as it swung open.

In walked Y/N.

He moved with a quiet, deliberate confidence that immediately drew attention. His tall, broad frame seemed to absorb the space around him as he made his way across the room, his dark eyes scanning before locking onto Chaewon’s. She felt the shift immediately—a faint flutter in her chest that she was quick to squash. Her fingers tightened around her glass, the condensation wetting her palm.

There was something about him that irritated her. The way he walked with such ease, as if the room bent to his will, set her on edge. Who did he think he was?

“Unnie, this is Y/N—Y/N, meet Chaewon,” Yunjin said with a grin, the playful glint in her eyes betraying her enjoyment of the situation. She greeted Y/N with a hug, whispering something quickly to him  "You know what to do." before turning back to Chaewon.

Y/N extended a hand toward Chaewon, but she didn’t move. Her smirk widened as she surveyed him, her posture cool, detached, as if she were appraising him like a figure in a gallery she was already bored of.

“Chaewon,” Y/N greeted, his voice deep and steady. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Chaewon’s smirk remained, but there was a sharpness in her gaze as she tilted her head. “Oh really? All good things, I hope,” she drawled, the sarcasm dripping from her words, “Or are you here to try and do what other couldn't”

Y/N lowered his hand without a hint of hesitation, his smile never faltering. “Yunjin did say you have a knack for getting what you want,” he responded smoothly, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. “She said you can be a bit… bratty when things don’t go your way.”

Chaewon’s expression shifted, her smirk vanishing, replaced with a cold, sharp glare. “Excuse me? Bratty?” The word lingered on her tongue like a bad taste. "That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Y/N shrugged, his gaze calm and unyielding. “Well, she did say you’re good at using that charm of yours to manipulate situations in your favor. I’d call that bratty.”

Chaewon leaned back, crossing her arms in defiance. “Manipulate? I prefer to think of it as persuasion, and I don't even have to try, It's not my fault they bend over backwards for me. ” Her voice was haughty, each syllable dripping with superiority. She tilted her chin up, daring him to challenge her.

Y/N didn’t rise to the bait. His response was calm, measured. “Whatever you want to call it. It’s a fine line between persuasion and manipulation, though, isn’t it?”

Chaewon’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, her eyes narrowing as she felt her control slipping, just a little. “You think you know me? You think you can come in here and figure me out with a few words?”

He smiled, slow and deliberate. “I don’t know everything about you,” he admitted, “but I know enough to see through the act.”

Her smirk faltered.

Y/N leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his voice soft but laced with confidence. “You hide behind that attitude because it makes you feel powerful. It’s how you keep people at your fingertips. But I’m not playing your game.”

The air between them thickened, the space closing as Chaewon leaned in, her glare icy. “You think you’re different? Special?” Her voice lowered, venom in every word. “You’re just like the others. And you’ll crumble, just like they did.”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver, his smile deepening slightly. “I’m not like the others. I won’t let you push me around.” He paused, letting the weight of his words hang between them. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

Chaewon’s breath hitched. The words cut deeper than she wanted to admit, and for the first time in a long while, she felt off-balance. Vulnerable.

But pride was a stubborn thing.

She straightened, forcing her usual smirk back into place. “ I heard that speech way too much. Do you really think you can handle me?” she asked, her voice dripping with arrogance, even though a flicker of doubt crept into her mind.

Y/N’s gaze softened, though his confidence never wavered. “I don’t need to handle you, Chaewon. I just know that you’re not as untouchable as you want everyone to believe.”

Chaewon leaned in closer, her voice low and dangerous. “ I'd like to see you try and prove it. I need a good laugh”

Y/N’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a quiet, unshakable confidence. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I will.”

Just then, Yunjin came back to grab her bag that she left next to her leader. Sensing the charged energy between them she knew it was time. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said casually, grabbing her bag. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone,” she added with a wink before slipping toward the restroom.

Moments later, Chaewon’s phone chimed softly. She glanced down, seeing a message from Yunjin, who had left her seat.

Yunjin: His safe word is cantaloupe, I thought you should know. I told him not to mention it, but better safe than sorry. Have fun! xoxo

Chaewon stared at the text, her brow furrowing. "Safe word?" she muttered under her breath.

Before she could make sense of it, Y/N leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Yunjin has a blabber mouth, doesn’t she?" His voice was low, a quiet murmur laced with amusement. "She told me what you are. And what you need."

Chaewon’s cheeks flushed at his words, though she fought to maintain her composure. She pushed him back slightly with a scoff, though her voice wavered with a trace of uncertainty. " She might know a lot but she doesn't know everything about me"

Y/N’s smirk deepened, his dark eyes gleaming with a quiet intensity. "You’re a fake," he said matter-of-factly. "You go around pretending to be something you’re not, just hoping one person can challenge you. but deep down, I know the type of person you are. I've seen them multiple times. Yunjin knows it, too. You want to be put in your place. You need to be taught a lesson."

The words stung, but Chaewon couldn’t deny the way they ignited something deep inside her—fear, anticipation, and a thrill she couldn’t quite place. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to respond, her voice filled with false bravado. "And who do you think you are to teach me anything?"

Y/N’s expression didn’t waver. He leaned back slightly, his calmness almost maddening. "Someone who won’t let you get away with it." His voice was a low rumble, a quiet challenge that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.

It was a challenge she couldn’t resist, though hesitation lingered beneath her bravado. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to back down, even as curiosity gnawed at her. "I bet you’re all talk and no bite," she said, crossing her arms defiantly. 

Chaewon stood up with a huff, her expression a mix of determination and uncertainty, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil inside her. “Well, get on with it. Let’s go to the place where I will inevitably prove you wrong."

---

Once they arrived at his apartment, Chaewon felt a surge of confidence, believing she had the upper hand. The interior was cozy and inviting almost like there was a family inside, with dim lighting casting long shadows across the walls. The scent of something warm and delicious wafted through the air, enveloping her senses and putting her at ease. Chaewon looked around, feeling a sense of control return as she surveyed the space. “So, this is your home?”  she said, a playful smirk on her lips. “Nice ambiance, a little soft for someone with tough words don’t you think? I’m not impressed .”

Y/N turned to face her, his expression unreadable as he watched her closely. Chaewons pride was strong, really strong but seeing the look of the man in front of her For the first time in a long time, Chaewon felt vulnerable—truly vulnerable.

He looked at her with a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Strip," he said, his voice a command that sent a shiver down her spine. His command echoed through the quiet space. Chaewon's eyes widened, but she didn't move. "I said strip," he repeated, his tone unyielding.

Her hand started to move but it stopped, “What? You don't get to tell me that, if anything you should be the one stripping first” The Idols heart was pounding and she didn't know why but she was slowly crumbling.

“I'm not going to ask again” that's all Y/N responded with but his words held such power. They stared at each other for a while. Chaewon’s eyes were the first to break under the the pressure of Y/N’s stare

With a huff, she began to remove her clothes, each article dropping to the floor like a declaration of war. She felt his gaze on her, hot and assessing, as she revealed her body to him. Her cheeks burned with a mix of anger and arousal. Who did he think he was, ordering her around like this? And who was she? to blindly follow orders.

But as she stood before him in nothing but her matching bra and panties, her group's title on the hem of both, she felt a strange sense of vulnerability. Her usual armor of snark and sass had been stripped away, leaving her exposed and...wet?. She could feel the dampness growing between her thighs, and she hated it.

"On your knees," he said, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from arguing. She dropped to the floor, her knees bending on its own, her eyes flashing up at him with defiance. "Now,” he started, staring into her eyes  “tell me, who's in charge here?"

Chaewon opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to admit it. The power she had clung to so fiercely was slipping through her fingers like sand. She could feel it, the shift in dynamics, the tipping of the scales.

Y/N stepped closer, his hand reaching down to cup her face, slightly squishing her cheeks together. "Answer me" he said, there was no room for argument in his tone.“I am?” Chaewon forced out. Her tone answered the question for her. He squeezed her cheeks tighter as he stared down onto her eyes. She couldn't stand him staring at her like that, and involuntarily her voice responded “You are” . It was quite as she was still clinging on the small thread of pride she had left, He let off the pressure on her cheeks. Before caressing it with his thumb “ Correct and tonight, you're going to learn what happens when you misbehave."

The air grew thick with anticipation, the soft lights casting a warm, flickering glow across their bodies. She got picked up with ease and placed on a brown leather couch. She was sitting on it as he stood above her. Chaewon felt the heat of his hand as it trailed down her neck, over her collarbone, and down to the swell of her breasts. She gasped, her body betraying her.

He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "So eager," he murmured, he grabbed her short hair and forced her to look down, her black underwear had a very visible wet mark. Chaewon stared at it in shock. Why is her body liking this? He then had his thumb circling her hardened nipple through the fabric of her bra. "But I do have a rule for girls like you, no cumming until I say so."

Her eyes widened, and she felt a jolt of panic. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go, he was supposed to be the one begging, like every other guy she had been with. Not her, especially not on the couch just in the middle of a living room. But as his hands continued to explore her body, setting every inch of her on fire, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she had met her match.

Y/N's touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the middle of her panty, teasing and taunting her. She squirmed, desperate for more, for the relief she knew he could give her. But he remained in control, his eyes never leaving hers as he toyed with her.

"More" she whispered, hating herself for the need in her voice.

A small smile appeared on Y/N’s face “what was that?” Chaewon did not want to repeat herself, but as he kept tracing his fingers just inches to where she wants it, her words came out without a thought

“More!” this time it was louder

He leaned down, his lips a mere breath away from hers. "Not yet," he said, his voice a soft growl. "I want to hear you beg just a little while longer. It will be good practice for what you will endure"

The humiliation burned, but the desire was stronger. Chaewon had never begged for anything in her life, but as his hand slid down to her soaking wet panties, she found herself doing just that. "Please!," she cried, her pride crumbling like sand.

Y/N's eyes gleamed with victory, and he finally gave her what she needed. His fingers slipped inside her easily, stroking her with a skill that had her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head. It was never easy for her. The amount of fake orgasms she had to do was a number she wasn't proud of. But almost instantly she felt the beginnings of an orgasm build, her body tightening around him like a vice.

It felt amazing but just as she reached the peak, he pulled away, leaving her trembling and desperate. "Not yet," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You still haven't earned it."

The night had turned into a battle of wills, Chaewon's pride clashing with her desperation. She begged, she pleaded, she cursed, but he remained unflappable. He could hear it in her voice that her heart wasn't in it yet.. Each time she was brought to the edge, he would pull back, leaving her gasping for air and begging for release.

It was a dance of power, one she had never experienced before. And as much as she hated to admit it, she found herself enjoying the thrill of the chase.

Finally, in what felt like hours for Chaewon, the last piece of pride hanging on by a thread had snapped, the unbreakable had been broken and… 

She broke.

"Y/N please, I'll do anything!" she panted, her voice raw with need. "Please, let me cum. I can't take it anymore, you win, PLEASE!"

Y/N's smile was wicked as he leaned down, his breath hot against her skin. "Anything?"

Her nod was frantic. "Anything. Please Y/N! "

With a chuckle, he leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Then, my dear princess, prepare to be tamed."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized that she had no idea what she had just agreed to. But in that moment, with the storm outside mirroring the tumult within her, she didn't care.

He picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom with an ease that belied his strength. The rain pattered against the windows like a drumbeat, setting the rhythm for what was to come. He laid her down on his large bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly stripped away her remaining clothes.

The thunder rumbled in the distance, a prelude to the storm he was about to unleash on her. Chaewon felt her body respond, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was his, utterly and completely.

And she had never felt more alive.

Y/N's touch grew more insistent, his fingers delving into her wetness, stroking her until she was mindless with need. His lips followed the path his eyes had taken earlier, kissing and nipping at her skin. Each touch was calculated to drive her to the brink of insanity. Chaewon could feel the tension in the air thicken, coiling around them like a living thing.

Her breath came in desperate pants, her body arching towards him. "Please," she begged again, the word falling from her lips like a prayer.

He smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "Since you asked so nicely, I’ll shorten the time. Just hold on a little longer okay?" he murmured, his hand moving to her throbbing clit. He rubbed slow circles, the pressure just right, and she could feel the beginnings of a climax building. It was as if he could read her body like a book, knowing exactly where to touch to make her squirm.

But just as she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped again. Chaewon let out a wail of frustration, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. "You're going to cum when I say you can," he reminded her, his voice a low growl.

The power exchange was intoxicating, and she found herself eager to please him, to do whatever it took to earn her release. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the words, but they spilled out anyway. "I'll be good. I promise. I’ll even say sorry to Yunjin if that’s what she wants. I’m begging you please let me cum"

He chuckled, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through her. "We'll see about that."

He began to speed up his touch on her again, she was dripping more than ever, his touch feather-light. Each stroke brought her closer to the precipice, until she was begging for more. "Please, Y/N," she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the rain.

Suddenly, she felt his fingers plunge deep inside her, and she lost control. Her body bucked against his hand and like a switch something clicked, without her choice she had the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced ripped through her, her inner walls clenching around his fingers her voice screaming as if she was in a climax of a song, but this climax was different than anything she had before. For the first time in her life, she squirted, the wetness soaking not only her legs but the bed beneath her and her master.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed with a hint of anger and amusement. "You weren't supposed to do that," he said, his voice tight.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the pleasure was too intense for her to care. "I couldn't help it," she gasped.

He then let her legs fall as he stepped away, slowly undressing his clothes while Chaewon can barely watch him, her vision foggy and her legs still shaking, but what she could make out was him placing his keys, wallet and his phone off to the side as if there isn't and trembling idol just behind him. Any thought was immediately pushed out of her mind.

He walked over, his cock, not the biggest but larger than any she had ever seen in real life, standing tall and proud. She didn't want to think about it but her mind goes to Yunjin, what the heck, she's been taking this monster?  " It seems you're going to need to be taught a lesson after all," he murmured.

Y/N took his position and sat behind the idol and let her lean on him, she felt his member rub against her back there’s no way Yunjin took that for fun. Now facing the wall Chaewon justn noticed the abnormally large mirror facing perfectly towards her. She felt a slap on her thighs indicating for her to spread them. Once open her legs were locked as Y/N used his own legs to secure the position. 

He started to rub her breast gently pinching and pulling each nub. “Why did you cum without permission?” He whispered directly to her ear. The idol had done plenty of interviews but this was a question she couldn’t answer. 

A loud smack was heard across the room as Chaewon failed to respond . A smack directly to her sensitive area. “AAGGH” she squealed. Why was the smack making her more wet? was the only thought in her mind before it was interrupted “That’s not the answer I want”

“I-I don’t know why it just happe-“ another smack across her pussy, the sound that came from it was different, her pussy was soaked, and now Y/N's left hand now snaked around and found itself onto Chaewon neck giving a light squeeze. 

In the reflection Chaewon saw his other hand lift up about to slap her lower region again but she forced out the only answer she could think of. 

“I came because I’m a bad girl” she saw his hand stop before she continued “I’m sorry for cumming, I’ll do better”

“Good, but you still need to get punished” he released her legs before giving one more slap to her pussy he knew she was ready again. 

“On your hands and knees, show that ass to me” Not like before when Chaewon would hesitate, she almost immediately used her remaining strength to get on her knees and her hand resting on the sheets. She looked up and could see herself in the mirror, a sight she had never seen.

“Y/N I’m still sensitive, please be gentl-

Without warning, he entered her aching pussy, filling her to the brim and then some. Chaewon screamed as her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. He began to thrust, hard and deep, making sure to pull out just enough for Chaewon to think it was done before slamming back in, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing through the room.

He didn't relent, pushing her past any limit she thought she had. Each stroke brought a fresh wave of pain and pleasure, until she was a writhing mess beneath him, her nails digging into the bed. She could feel her orgasm building again, despite the fact that she had just cum.

"Y/N, If I cum again it will hurt" she begged, her voice hoarse. "I can't take it."

But he was relentless, he began to speed up his hips pistoning into her without mercy. "That the point baby. you came without permission," he grunted. "Now you're going to be punished."

Her body betrayed her, responding to his rough handling with a second orgasm that was even more intense than the first. She screamed his name, her muscles clenching around him as she squirted again, less than before as she was empty. but the sensation is still overwhelming.

He groaned, his own release imminent. But he held back, he flipped her so she's now facing him, his eyes boring into hers. "You're going to cum again and again until I'm done with you," he said, his voice a command.

The thought was too much, her body already so sensitive. But she could feel it, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her. Placing her legs on both sides of his torso he positioned himself so he was above her, piling down with force and giving her no room to move as he fucked her through the aftershocks, his strokes unyielding and unforgiving.

"Please," she whimpered, the same word she would use earlier but now for a different reason. tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "I can't."

But she did. Over and over, this position made it easier for him to hit that spot that everyone craved to be abused. until she was a trembling mess, begging for him to stop. Her voice was raw, her body bruised and sore. But he didn't listen, not until she was so overstimulated that she was begging for mercy.

As Y/N was using his body weight to press down even deeper into the idol she felt another one coming but this time she felt like she was at her breaking point. As the orgasm drew closer she tried her best to avoid it.

“No no no please noo-AGGHHH ” she screamed as she felt it, the pain of another orgasm, her pussy squeezed so tight it almost made Y/N pull out but he kept hammering

Finally, Y/N leaned down, his face flushed with exertion and pleasure. "Where do you want me to cum?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal.

For a brief, prideful moment, Chaewon considered telling him to pull out, to prove that she wasn't his. But the feeling of him inside her, the way he filled her completely, was too much. Her body was singing with the need to be claimed. "Inside," she gasped, the words foreign to her mouth. "Please, I need it." She instinctively wrapped her legs around Y/N leaving no room to pull out.

He groaned, his eyes darkened with lust. "As you wish, princess" he murmured,before he pressed a searing kiss to Chaewon, his strokes growing erratic. And with a final, powerful thrust, he came deep inside her, his thrust getting slower with each pump.

At the same time not even a minute after her last one, Chaewon's orgasm crashed over her, she had never ever had anyone cum inside her, even with a condom, the sensation set her into spasms of pleasure and pain so intense she saw stars. The idols' abs cramped for a couple seconds and her body quivered uncontrollably around him , her nails digging into his back as she screamed his name. Her voice was hoarse. It was as if her entire being was made of pleasure, and she was shattering into a million pieces.

As the tremors subsided, she collapsed against the bed, her chest heaving. The room was quiet except for their harsh breathing and the steady patter of the rain outside.

Y/N pulled out of her, and she felt the warmth of his cum spill out, mixing with her own juices. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle. He took his finger and scooped up the leaking cum before placing it in front of the pillow princess. She took his finger in her mouth tasting the cocktail that they made, her pussy pulsating at the taste.

As Chaewon lay there, sweaty, trembling, and panting, she barely registered that the sound of the rain had stopped. The rhythmic pitter-patter against the window, which had once mirrored the erratic beating of her heart, was now replaced by a heavy silence that enveloped the room. The air was thick with the remnants of their passion, hanging like a cloud of heat and electricity, while the dim light flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls that seemed to dance in time with their heavy, labored breaths.

Le sserafims leader felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way that was both terrifying and strangely comforting. The cool sheets beneath her stuck to her skin, clinging like a second layer, and every inch of her body hummed with a lingering sensitivity, as if it had been electrified from within. She could still feel the phantom touch of Y/N’s hands ghosting over her skin, their warmth and weight a reminder of how completely he had taken control. Her legs felt weak, barely able to hold any tension, while her arms lay limp at her sides, as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. The memory was a blur of sensation—hands gripping, bodies moving in perfect sync, his voice commanding, hers yielding in ways she never imagined possible. She had never given up control so willingly, never allowed herself to be led so fully by someone else. It was foreign, intoxicating, and the overwhelming pleasure that had coursed through her body like a tidal wave had left her utterly spent. But at the same time she had never had an orgasm let alone multiple so full, so powerful, so electric, in her life. The realization sent a fresh wave of shock through her. It was terrifying, being so completely vulnerable, so stripped of her usual defenses. Yet, it was exhilarating in a way she had never known before. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she couldn’t deny that Y/N had proven himself to be more than she could handle.

Y/N leaned over, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, the touch soft, almost reverent, and in stark contrast to the intensity he had shown earlier. "You did well," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a balm to her frayed nerves. "How did you feel? You know... being so obedient?" 

The words sent a shiver down her spine, her body reacting before her mind could fully process the question. Obedient. It was a concept that felt alien to her—Chaewon, who had always been fiercely independent, always in control, now reduced to something so pliant, so willing. It was as foreign as the deep, bone-deep satisfaction that still thrummed through her body. And yet, she found herself nodding, unable to form words, unable to refuse him anything at this moment. The submission was startling and in that silence she smiled softly and nodded her head.

Y/n smiled at Chaewons response, petting her hair affectionately  before he slid out of bed, his body glistening with sweat under the soft light, muscles still tense from exertion. Chaewon’s gaze followed him as he moved, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his back, the way his shoulders flexed with each step. The absence of his warmth left her feeling exposed to the cold air in the room, and instantly, she missed his presence. The space between them felt like a chasm, though it was only mere feet, and her body still thrummed from the overstimulation he had caused. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions she didn’t know how to process—desire, confusion, fear, and a strange sense of relief all battled for dominance in her head.

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. Her body tensed in anticipation, a flicker of excitement sparking in her chest as she expected him to rejoin her, maybe push her over the edge again. But instead, the sound of running water filled the room, calming and steady. A few moments later, Y/N returned, carrying a warm washcloth. The contrast in his demeanor from moments ago—when he had dominated her completely—was stark. Now, his touch was tender, almost reverential, as he pressed the cloth against her skin, gently wiping away the sweat and the remnants of their passion. 

Chaewon squirmed slightly when he reached her most sensitive areas, the sensation still sharp, and he chuckled lightly at her reaction. It was a sound that was both comforting and teasing, a reminder of the control he still held. Yet, there was a tenderness in the way he cared for her now that spread warmth through her chest, a feeling she didn’t quite know how to name. Was it gratitude? Trust? Or something deeper, more dangerous, that she wasn’t ready to confront?

As he finished cleaning her, he leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did," he whispered, his voice low but firm, the words laced with a promise that sent a ripple of something dark and thrilling through her. "But don’t forget, you’re mine now." The possessiveness in his tone made her heart race anew, a reminder of the shift in power, of the new reality she had stepped into willingly. 

And with that, Chaewon knew she had entered a world she had never known before—a world where she might just find that being tamed was exactly what she needed. Her body, her mind, her very will had bent to his, and instead of fear, there was an undeniable sense of liberation in that. 

---

Across town, in the dimly lit dormitory of the Le sserafim girls, Yunjin sat in her bedroom, reclining comfortably on her bed. Her breath was steady, though her pulse still raced from the high of her own release. Her lips curled into a satisfied grin as she slowly pulled her hand away from the waistband of her underwear, her fingers glistening from the pleasure she’d just given herself. The feeling of euphoria mixed with a deep sense of triumph settled in her chest. She had been listening… to every word, every breath, every plea, and every sound that had unfolded between Y/N and Chaewon, all of it pouring through the open line on Y/N’s phone.

Perfect, she thought, as she brought her fingers to her lips, licking them clean, savoring the taste of her own satisfaction. The echo of Chaewon’s voice, her begging, her screams, and her cries replayed over and over in her head like a song she couldn’t get out of her mind. Each sound had fueled her own pleasure, bringing her to the edge and pushing her over it with such sweet satisfaction.

Yunjin’s body trembled with the aftershocks of her release as she stared at the phone screen, the call still running, the seconds ticking away in silence now that everything had played out. She savored the moment, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction, and let the sense of power wash over her. Everything had gone exactly as she had expected. Chaewon was exactly where she needed to be—under control, vulnerable, and pliant.

With a final glance at the screen, Yunjin smirked, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. She tapped the screen to end the call, and as the screen went dark, she let her head fall back against the pillow, letting her sleep take over with a smile on her face.

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).

Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.

Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.

You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.

“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.

Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.

And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.

Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.

“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”

“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.

A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.

But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.

And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.

Whatever fine means.

“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.

You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.

“That depends, you gonna let me win?”

“Never.”

“Y/N! There you are.”

You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.

But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.

“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”

You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”

“Yeah.”

Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.

Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.

“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.

“…I know.”

You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.

What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”

You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”

Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!

“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”

Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”

“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”

You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.

“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?

In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.

“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”

Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.

Keyword: friend.

He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…

“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.

But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.

Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.

And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.

The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.

Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.

He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.

This was it.

…

…

…

…

The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.

Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?

Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?

No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.

And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”

A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.

This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.

“I knew it.”

[grugruel]

Not sure if this is where we can send in requests but you write so beautifully I truly cannot get over it.

Would it be possible to request a smut fic with Viktor from Arcane? Either way cannot wait to read your next fics 🩵

You really found the way to my heart with your kind words because I immediately had to write something for you🥹 I intended for it to be shorter, but it got away from me. I hope you like it!

Keeping Him Company

Pairings: Viktor x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Viktor is still getting used to solitude after Jayce started down the public road.

So when you offer to keep him company, he gladly takes you up on it.

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: fluff, angst ish, friends to lovers, pinv sex, cowgirl, oral sex (f receiving), feelings, plot with porn.

AN: Viktor is not a shy man, and I will die on that hill😭

"Dont you wish to be up there with him?"

Light spilled through a gap in the tall curtains, partly illuminating a man in hiding.

"It is not my within my talent," he said and slanted his lips, a thick accent curving his pronunciation.

The girl approached him, walking along the shadows edge. She was clad in a red and white ensamble, mirroring his own. "Everything is within your talent."

Casting a wistful glance at his leg, he doubted her words. "A simple misscalculation, im afraid. He shines, I do not . . ."

Booming from mighty speakers was the man of progress, holding a speech in front of thousands of people. The brief breaks to collect his breath allowed for them to hear the audience's reaction, and the collective whispers of expectant folk rolled through the crowd in waves.

She stopped next to him, hands clasped infront of her. "You're uninterested in the attention." She pitched her voice at the end, framing the statement as a question. Suspecting she already knew the answer.

"I do not enjoy it," he shrugged. "I prefer the practical part of our work."

"The solitude?"

He looked up at her, having had to sit down at some point during their conversation. The promise of dark circles had begun taking form beneath his eyes, painting a tired look onto his face.

"Hmm . . . The quiet if anything, I think. I've found myself in solitude more often than not since Jayce started handling the . . . public aspects," he explained and gestured broadly with one hand, encompassing the local. The entirety Piltover too, she imagined.

"You're happy with that?"

Bobbing his head from side to side, he could not agree nor disagree. "I like quiet, but I prefer the company. Jayce makes good company."

"Well," she began and reached out to him, pinching a piece of wild hair between her fingertips and arranged it back into shape with the rest of his dark waves. "If you find yourself in unwanted solitude, you can always send for me, Viktor. If nothing else, I might be able to help in the lab," she smiled. It was her specialty, after all.

They'd been friends since they enrolled in the academy, but learning under Heimerdinger rarely allowed them time to see eachother.

Straightening his cane, he heaved himself back on his feet.

She would offer him help, but knew it wouldn't be too appreciated.

Leaning on the support, the stream of light escaping the stage colored his face and set it aglow with warmth. "Thank you, . . ." he called her name and smiled. "I might do that."

He was a strong mind in a blighted body. The brightest often were.

-

It was late the next day when she'd gotten a message from Viktor.

Pushing the tall door open, the setting sun painted the spacious workroom in a dim golden light. On first inspection, one could've thought it abandoned. Books were strewn on every available surface, opened or stacked. Dust had already managed to settle on a few, and she guessed that they'd been deemed irrelevant to the two men's work at some point, then simply forgotten to time and unpaced space. "Viktor?" She called out.

"Over here," a thick accent answered. Venturing further inside, she found him by the colossal windows that held a view Piltover. To the side was a blackboard with rows upon rows of calculations. "Please, take a seat." He smiled and gestured toward one of the few chairs that were free of piling notes. "I'd like to show you what I have been working on."

-

And so the evening spilled into dusk, and dusk poured into night. There was nothing now but the dark sky and starlight illuminating the two of them.

"It is not correct," he tapped the chalk against the board and sighed, highlighting a specific problem to her eyes. He'd asked for her thoughts at some point, and ever since the two had been going back and forth trying to solve one particularly stubborn equation.

Settling down on the chair that she had long abandoned, Viktor wrapped his hands over the cane's handle and rested his chin on top. Exhausted eyes studied the same scribbles he'd gone over and over a hundred times before.

In unisome, they sighed.

Knowing glances were thrown each other's way, luring a chuckle from the both of them and gratefully releasing some of their tension. "Thank you, for lending me your mind this evening."

Pursing her lips, she moved in front of him and settled against the worktable. He was still facing the board, pondering the solution, and allowing her to look at him unabashedly. The strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, that pretty little mole above his lip and his perfectly half-wild hair. "I had a good time," she shrugged. "I should be the one thanking you." Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on that angled cheekbone of his. "So, thank you, Viktor," she murmured.

Pushing herself to her feet, she reached out to grab her things, then moved to leave.

But a hand grabbed her wrist before she had the chance. "Thank you for keeping me company, . . ." Viktor said, voice sliding lower with each word until her name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

Her eyes switched between his, attempting to determine if there was an ulterior meaning his words. Looking down at their hands, she noticed his thumb stroking the thin skin at her wrist. Clearing her throat, she swallowed. "You didn't invite me here just to theorise, did you, Viktor?"

He followed her gaze and inspected the hand he held in his. "I like the quiet," he said, gently toying with her fingers. Running along their length, he absentmindedly bent and straightened them as he carefully thought about the next words to leave his lips. "But it seems, I prefer you." His fingers slid between her own, lacing them together.

Stepping closer to him, she cupped the sharp angles of his cheek. Giving him no other choice then to look up at her with those big, rounded eyes. "Are you telling me I'm loud?" She teased.

"No," Viktor smirked and let his cane slip to the floor, prioritising holding her hips. "But I would like to find out." He put pressure behind his hands, pushing her back onto the tabletop behind her. "Take those off, please." He nodded his chin at her suitpants, then leaned back in his chair.

Smiling, she did as asked and a little bit more, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

His eyes trailed over her body, along the curves of her breasts and lace covered mound. Without a word, he moved the chair to face her, hands sliding up her calfs until they hooked beneath her knees and pulled her to the edge of the table.

"Viktor, you don't have to-" she began, rather putting in work for both of them so he could avoid further strain on his body.

But desperate to be of use, to do it himself, he insisted. "I want to," he assured, wrapping a hand around the back of her thigh and squeezed. "Please . . . Let me."

Hesitantly, she nodded her head in compact motions. Willing to please him, but needing him to please her more.

Placing one hand behind her, she braced her weight against the table while her other hand brushed stray strands from his eyes. Combing it back, she burried her fingers in his thick waves. "Okay," she whispered.

What followed was a satisfied smirk and an eager lips trailing kisses along her inner thigh. He made quick work of her panties, then paused. Looking up, brown irises locked with her own as he hovered an inch from her heat. Then suddenly burried his face between her thighs before she'd gotten a second to breathe.

"Fuck-" she moaned, head falling back in bliss as Viktor worked his glorious wonders. An experienced tongue thrust into her core and lapped at her wetness, closing his eyes and humming throughout as if tasting heaven itself. "You taste very sweet, darling," he murmured against her, damp breath fanning against her core and sending shivers up her spine, doing nothing but further spurr her arousal on.

Sinking his teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh, he looked up at her, finding the entire city at her back, framing her exalted form. Behind her quivering shoulders ran the horizon, the night sky painting her into a saint as it formed like a halo around her head. Watching her heaving chest and panthing mouth was enough to make a man believe in powers greater than science.

And he wouldnt relent, when seeing the reaction his mere tongue could cause. He couldn't give her mercy, and he could not give her another second to collect herself lest her climax strayed too far away.

Without warning, he slid his tongue up her folds, collecting her arousal only to swallow with groan. Before she could gasp, he'd already slipped back between her thighs. Aternating between soft kisses and gentle nipping, he turned her into a whimpering mess. In a final act, he latched onto her clit, sucking and circling with fervour. Tears of pleasure rolled down her cheeks as her fingers curled into a fist, pulling on his hair as she held on for dear life.

But all he did was whine from her taste and the pressure on his scalp, whine from the growing unpleasantry in his pants as he devoured his dinner and licked his plate clean. "Pretty," he murmued, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

One quivering body- and an arched back later, she laid back against the tabletop, fighting hard to catch her breath.

Looking back, she glimpsed Piltover. She saw thousands of lights illuminating homes, she saw the sky and the glimmering stars. But she couldn't be sure if it was reality or hallucinations of eyes recovering from a tumultuous orgasm.

Moving up, she braced on her forearms, surveying Viktor's own state. He'd circled his arms around her calves and laid his head in the valley between her thighs, kissing and whispering sweet nothings against her skin. Thumbs stroked soothing circles into her plush flesh whenever his mind reminded him. "Thank you," he whispered and kissed her. "Thank you," he repeated over and over again.

"Thank me when we're done," she exhaled, adoring the way his reaction to making her come was gratitude, for letting him bring her to completion. "Chair or bed?" She asked, already planning their next endeavour. "I want to please you too."

Blinking, he considered. An uncertain smile twitching in the corner of his lips. "Our rooms are far," he murmured, glancing down at his leg. Self-consciousness was never something he displayed, never did he complain or bring it up. In his mind, he wanted to prove that there was nothing wrong with him, that he could withstand and surpass.

Although she understood, although she empathized with him, she did not see the need. A dent in a machine did not change its capability, but it could bump the risk of deterioration. "We all need help sometimes, Viktor," she combed through his hair, scratching and brushing his scalp in turns. Sliding a finger down his face, she placed it beneath his chin, tilting his face to meet hers. "Some hardships are more visible than others, but that should not affect the view people have of you. It certainly won't affect mine," she whispered and brushed her thumb along his upper lip, fingertip gently dotting the mole above, and then followed his cheekbone up to his temble. "But, it's your decision, whatever you're comfortable with," she assured, rubbing circles into his temple.

Burrying his face in her thigh, he sighed and nodded, untamed hair scratching her skin pleasantly. "Yes." Viktor sat back and reached for her hands, clasping them in his own. "My room it is," he smiled and kissed up her knuckles, palm and wrist.

-

She'd never been sure if the professor's assistant got a fancier room then the other students. But standing inside it, she could confirm it was bigger at the very least.

"We were outside of the workshop when miss Medarda found us," Viktor explained as he closed the door behind them.

"No! What did she say?" She snickered, eager to hear the following as shd vetured into his room, examining some of the knicks and knacks he had laying around.

Leaning on his cane, he scrathed his chin. "I do not remember," he said, and then a blush rose to his cheeks, staining them a pretty, pale red. "I believe I paniced and told the councillor that I had gotten the rooms wrong."

Raising an eyebrow, she sauntered back to him, already questioning how the story would end. "And which room was that?" She asked, toying with his collar.

Viktor cleared his throat. "Jayce's," he chuckled, thumb rubbing the handle of his cane. "Miss Medarda had little trust in my excuse."

Her lips pulled into a thin line as she met his eyes, making a worthy attempt at with-holding her laughter. "At least it turned out well in the end," she managed, fingers working to unlace his west as she backed toward the bed, pulling him with her.

"Yes," he said and re-removed her shirt, getting the satisfaction of pulling it over her head this time. "I would like to think so."

Sliding his west down his shoulders, she began unbuttoning the red fabric beneath, where she found another piece of his engineering. She traced the clever contraption with wonder. Softly admiring the skill and ingenuity he'd put into it.

Looking up to ask him about it, she found his expression close to discomfort. He looked vulnerable, like it was a piece of himself he rarely showed anyone else unless he had to.

Smiling softly, she met his gaze with a slanted head. "It's crafted brilliantly," she recognized his hard work while studying the detailing. "It's a-"

"Brace." There was note of resignation in his tone. "My back, it is . . ." He trailed off, looking away.

She sighed silently, hating that he couldn't see his own beauty the way she did. "It's beautiful, Viktor. Truly. It suits you." She ran a finger along the strap over his shoulder. "We can keep the shirt if you'd prefer it."

"No," he said and began taking the shirt off, struggling as he only had one available hand. Sensing irritation, she cupped his jaw, gathering his attention. She watched his face soften, honoured by his trust in her. Then brushed her hands down his throat and shoulders, tracing his collarbone before sliding over his shoulders and beanth the fabric, helping it fall to the floor. Viktor turned them around and moved onto to bed without another word.

She smiled to herself, instantly shy by his sudden confidence. Crawling after him, she straddled his lap, careful not to put too much weight on his leg.

"I am not ready, to . . . Remove the other, yet," he murmured, no longer as resigned when talking about his condition. "I am afraid the pants must stay on, for the moment."

"Thats okay," she nodded softly, connecting their foreheads. "I don't mind." She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his skin beneath her palms. She brushed them down his arms until she found his hands and laced them together with her own, and her lips inched closer to his.

For a while, they settled in this new position. Simply enjoying the moment of newfound feelings and fragility, inhaling one another's scent and sharing the air between them.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, moving closer until their mouths were ghosts upon the other. With parted lips, he crept ever closer, patiently testing the waters. Then, softly, they closed around her bottom lip. With a unified exhale, she kissed him back. She could very faintly taste herself on him.

Together, they could focus on nothing but the softness of the other and the frequency of their breaths. When their lust filled lungs could no longer expell air through their mouths, their noses had to take up the slack. Somehow, adding on to the intimacy between them. In this second in time, they were two souls with lungs filling of emotion, ramping up the speed in which they needed to act.

With no other way for the feelings to go, the eagerness in their lips had to carry them out.

Laced together, she moved his hands to her body, giving him free range to wander while her own traveled downward and found the buttons of his pants. "Is this still alright?" She murmured in-between kisses.

"Yes, please," he answered, his own hands undoing her bra. Then there suddenly was the sound of skin on skin as he slid his hands back around her ribs and cupped her breasts.

With a gasp from his touch, she got the buttons open. Reaching down, she pulled his member out.

He'd been fully hard since they'd left the workshop, and intending to finally put him out of his misery, she spread the pre-cum leaking from his tip and circled it gently. Earning her a soft whimper.

Placing one hand on his chest, she lined him up with the other. Pushing him back against the bed and quickly followed suit herself, wetting the tip in her core.

"Please," he begged, hands moving to cup her face, pulling her back for another kiss. "Please." He introduced their tongues and let them explore each other's mouths. Finally, she carefully slid down his length. Resulting in a shprt break from their kiss through the unisome gasp.

As she began to move, to rut her her hips into his. The kiss became needier and needier until their teeth were clashing and breathing rapid.

She angled her hips so her clit could be stimulated against his mound. She released a breathless whimper at the sensation, but earned a twitch from the member inside her and a grin from the man beneath her. "Glorious woman," he moaned, moving to kiss her jaw and neck. His hands slipping from her face to her hips and ass, squeezing and encouraging her ruts with help from his wrists.

From the several points of pleasure he made for her, she was already closing in on her second orgasm. Straightening up, she put both hands on his chest and used him as support to move in longer bounds around his inches. "That alright?" She asked, imagining nothing worse than to cause him

"Yes, y-yes. Mmh . . . M' close," he managed. Observing her on top of him did nothing to ease the matter, and he hissed from what his thoughts of her alone could muster.

Grinding down harder, jolts of electricity shot through her body. Their combined sounds of pleasure along with the sensations they caused had them both close to their limit.

Closing her eyes, the night sky began forming beneath her eyeslids. Her entire body felt much the same, static sizzled in every nerve as the pressure came close to releasing.

"Look at me," Viktor said with a breathless voice. Fingers clawing at her back and waist with a non existent sharpness.

Taking a deep breath she closed the distance between them once again, and opened her eyes.

This time, she could see the stars reflected in his eyes. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, bringing her head against his, and allowed their lips to meet one last time before they spilled over the edge. Viktor quite literally, as he filled her up with his seed.

With no strength left in her body, she collapsed. Yet, still taking care to place her weight on her side rather than his torso, along with her legs settling between his rather than on top.

"Thank you," he whispered, lips finding her temple as she rested next to him. "For keeping me company."

"It was my pleasure, Viktor," she chuckled. "I hope we can do it again."

"Yes, I would like that," he nodded. "I really care for you, . . ." He whispered her name. "I think, perhaps-"

"I care for you too," she stopped him. "Let's let things happen in their own time, okay?"

"Okey," he smiled, scratching her nape.

As their euphoria began wearing of and sleep caught up, her mind could not settle. "Viktor," she murmured.

"Mmh?" He answered, already drowsing of.

"I maybe think so, too."

[these-lovely-monsters]

The Sweetest Nectar

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!mothman x f!reader

Content: aphrodisiac, oral (f!receiver), p in v, mating, claiming

A/N: In classic fashion, this started out as drabble and ended up being waaayyy longer than intended. Oops 🤷‍♀️

#19 Wings from @ozzgin’s Monstertober 2024 prompt list

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

You've been working the graveyard shift at the mall for a few months now. Whenever you're on break, you like to go down to the park nearby and watch the moon and stars twinkling above. The vastness of it all is mesmerizing and you've always wondered what it's like up there in the sky. 

Tonight is no different as you huddle into your coat, trying to stay warm in the cool night air while munching on a sandwich. Just like every other night this week, you spot the pair of glowing red eyes watching you from the darkness of the trees. When you first saw them, you were terrified and your heart nearly stopped. You could just barely make out a massive figure hunched in the darkness and you knew, instinctually, it was a monster of some kind. 

But as you held your breath, waiting for the creature to attack, they never did. They just stayed there, watching from a distance. After a while, you figured they didn’t mean you any harm and decided to let them be. Just because they’re a monster doesn’t mean they’re dangerous. You’ve seen what true monsters look like and it has nothing to do with being inhuman. Soon, you grew to find their watchful presence comforting in the lonely nights.  

Tonight, you’re feeling particularly bold and decide that it’s time to say hi to your silent monster. Setting down your sandwich, you wave to the shadows and call out for them to join you. The bright crimson orbs blink for a moment and then disappear. You wait patiently until they reappear again a minute later.  

“You…want me to come closer?” A deep, hesitant voice emanates from the shadows. The sound is nothing like you’ve ever heard before. It’s inhuman and has a buzzing quality as if it’s coming from a broken stereo. 

“Yeah,” you say, patting the seat next to you. “Come sit with me.” 

The eyes blink again and you see the faint outline of its head cock to the side. Then, ever so slowly, the figure starts to creep forward, easing out of the shadows and into the bright moonlight. 

You gape in awe at the giant masculine creature that stands before you. He has a thick chest with a tapered waist and long spindly legs that bend backwards at the knees, much like a bird’s. He also appears to be covered in a sort of black fuzz that you instantly want to run your hands through. When he cocks his head to the side again, you notice two feather-like antennae bobbing above him.  

Mothman! You think, not entirely surprised that he’s actually real. Even though you’re not afraid of him, a thrill runs through you at being so close to such a legendary cryptid. He’s also so much more beautiful than you thought he would be based on all the depictions you’ve seen. 

When he just stands there staring at you, you hold out your hand, beckoning him closer. You hear a little intake of surprise come from him before he tentatively approaches the picnic table and sits down beside you. You watch in fascination as his wide mouth splits open to reveal several rows of razor sharp teeth in a terrifying smile. 

“So, how long have you been watching me?” You ask, smirking at the way his antennae flatten back on his head as he looks away. 

“A while…” He replies vaguely. 

You smile at his sheepishness. “Hmm, have you now?” He just jerks his shoulder in an awkward shrug, still unable to meet your gaze. Deciding to cut him some slack, you change the subject. “Hey, can you fly?” 

“Of course!” he exclaims, puffing up his chest.  

With a woosh, a pair of massive wings spread out wide behind him as he shows them off. You can’t help but marvel at the gorgeous patterns. There are two sets on each side, one higher than the other. Black and brown rippling lines cover the edges and each wing has an eye-like circle in the middle. When he flutters them, it appears as if the eyes are winking at you. 

You laugh at his antics as you reach out to trace a finger along one of his wings. “What’s it like to fly? To be up there in the sky?” 

He shudders at your touch, staring down at you with an intense look in his eyes. Realizing what you were doing, you quickly pull your hand back and he exhales softly. 

Shaking his head slightly as if remembering your question, he asks, “Would you like me to show you?” 

Gasping in excitement, you nod eagerly. Without hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he tucks you into his body. Large, slender hands grip you tight, pinpricks of pain sending shivers down your spine as claw-tipped fingers dig into your skin. You cling to his neck and bury your face into his chest. He’s unbelievably soft and warm and you think you could probably stay here forever if he’d let you. 

“Hold on tight,” is all he says before he leaps into the air, pumping his wings with enormous force and lifting you both into the air. 

Within moments, you’re soaring high up in the sky, the wind whipping your hair as the town below you shrinks in the distance. Your shout of excitement gets lost in the roar of the wind and your cheeks burn from how wide you’re smiling. He looks down at you, a twinkle in his eyes as he soaks in your joy. 

You fly together for what feels like hours as you watch the land below whizzing by, the people and buildings like tiny figurines on a playset. Eventually, you start to shiver from the cold, your clothes growing damp from the moisture in the icy wind. He seems to notice and begins to veer off towards a nearby mountain. 

Wondering where he’s taking you, you hold on tightly and watch as he begins to descend to a small cabin nestled in the mountainside forest. When he lands, he sets you down gently on the porch and then takes your hand, leading you inside. It’s a warm, and cozy space, filled with old wooden furniture and mismatched decor. 

He sets about lighting a fire as you sit shivering on the couch. When the hearth is blazing, he grabs a blanket and places it next to you. Slowly, and with gentle hands, he begins removing your cold, wet clothes. He looks at you, pausing as if waiting for you to push him away. But you have no intention of stopping him, utterly bewitched by this terrifying yet sweet creature and desperately wanting to see what he’ll do. 

Once he has all your clothes off, he drapes the warm blanket over your shoulders. Then he carefully picks you up off the couch and lays you on the plush fur rug in front of the fire. When he leans back as if to move away, you grab his hand, pulling him down until he’s kneeling between your spread legs. 

For a moment, he just stares down at you, watching the firelight flicker across your naked skin. Red and yellow flames illuminate your curves in a mesmerizing dance.  

“Are you sure you want this, little flower?” he asks in a voice that sounds strained. 

“Yes,” you whisper on a breathy moan, “I want you.” And it’s true. From the moment you saw him, you were intrigued. And now your body is buzzing from the thrill of flying, needing an outlet for all that excited energy. 

When he takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly, you gape at him as two long appendages gradually extend from the depths of the fuzz at his hips. They reach out and brush against your inner thighs and your legs twitch at the sensation. They’re covered in soft hairs and it tickles as they swirl around your skin. 

Soon, a tingling sensation spreads along your legs and then the rest of your body, making your muscles relax as warmth spreads through you. The room begins to swim around you and you grab hold of his arm to keep from floating away. The warmth of his body and the softness of his fuzz is like an anchor in the fog. At the sight of Mothman looming over you with lust filling his eyes, your pussy tightens in need and you groan, squirming on the blanket beneath him. 

His mouth opens on a pant as his chest rises and falls rapidly. As the two appendages at his hips begin to retreat into his body, a long, straw-like tongue unfurls from his parted lips and he bends down to drink up the sweat gathering at the hollow of your neck. A groan escapes him and he quickly shuffles downward, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide for his shoulders to fit between your legs.  

Without hesitation his tongue dips into your dripping core, sucking up your juices greedily. “Mmmh,” he growls in that buzzing voice, “you taste like the sweetest nectar.”  

You moan at the vibrations that ripple from his tongue against your entrance. He traces it upwards and begins to twirl the narrow tip around your clit, making you writhe at the intense, concentrated stimulation. The tip flicks at the sensitive bud, pressing and swirling around it with unerring precision. The zaps of pleasure mix with the weightless feeling of your body in a heady cocktail. 

After a few moments of teasing your clit, he moves his slender tongue back inside your pussy, plunging deeper this time until it flicks against your g-spot. You gasp and jerk at the foreign sensation. His tongue isn’t nearly girthy enough to give you the fullness you so desperately crave but the feeling of the probing, sucking tip curling around your inner walls is just as erotic. 

Soon, he moves back to your clit, repeating his earlier ministrations before returning to your pussy once more. He does this over and over, spending just enough time at each spot to bring you close to the brink before he switches back again. Before long you’re completely wound up, gasping and desperate to come. 

Between the warmth of the fire, the tingling along your skin, and his torture on your clit and g-spot, your body feels like a tightly wound coil, ready to explode. When he reaches up to pinch a nipple between two sharp claws, you do just that. Your back arches off the floor as your orgasm crashes into you and you cry out in ecstasy. Waves of pleasure wash over you as he draws the orgasm out as long as he can until you eventually slump to the floor, twitching with aftershocks. 

As you start to come back down, he slows his movements, gently lapping up the wetness that’s coursing down your thighs.  

“Mmm,” he hums against your sensitive core. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of your sweet nectar”. 

Before you’ve fully caught your breath, he’s climbing back over you, nipping and sucking at your stomach, chest, and neck as if wanting to taste your pleasure everywhere. You moan at the sensations on your hot and overstimulated skin. When he leans back to sit on his heels, you gasp at the sight before you. 

Where there was once just fuzz, a massive length protrudes from his groin. It’s sort of like a cock but nothing like a human’s or anything you’ve ever seen before. It’s long and girthy and the shape is gnarled with bumps and whorls along its surface, almost like a dark gray tree branch. Your core clenches in desire as you watch his slender black fingers wrap around the length, stroking up and down a few times until a bead of sap-like precum wells up from a slit in the tip. 

With one hand, he holds your hip steady while the other guides his glistening tip to your entrance. Locking his bright ruby eyes with yours, he slowly pushes inside you, letting you feel every ridge and bump of his unusual cock slide along your walls. His lust-filled groan joins yours as you grip the furs above your head, gasping for air at the feeling of your walls being stretched impossibly wide. 

When he’s fully seated he pauses, letting you both catch your breaths for a moment. He places both forearms on either side of your head and leans down to press his forehead against yours, his warm exhales ghosting against your face.  

“So fucking tight,” he grits out, the strain of holding back evident in his voice. 

When your body begins to adjust to his size, your muscles relax and your pussy begins fluttering around him, clenching in need. 

He snarls at the sensation and quickly pulls out almost to the tip, then slams back in again in one swift motion. Your cries of pleasure echo against the walls as he begins to fuck you roughly into the rug, setting a brutal pace. With every thrust the gnarled bumps on his cock drag against your walls and your eyes roll back in your head. 

The wet sounds of your bodies colliding fill the small space as he takes what he wants from you. Each thrust is so forceful that your body begins to slide up the rug. He sits back on his heels again, lifting your hips up to wrap your legs around his waist. Digging his sharp claws into your ass, he uses the leverage to bury himself even deeper than before. 

With the new angle, his cock hits your g-spot perfectly on every thrust and your cries turn into sobs at the overwhelming bliss and you squeeze your eyes shut. Between the bolts of electricity shooting up your spine and the pricks of pain from his claws buried in your skin, you hurtle towards your orgasm.  

Feeling your walls beginning to clamp down, he snarls, “Look at me.” Your eyes flutter open and he pins you with his gaze. “There you are. Such a pretty petal.” 

At his words the dam bursts and you careen over the edge, your screams filling the room as you take him with you. He roars in pleasure and his hips begin to stutter. Your walls ripple, milking him as his hot cum spurts inside you, filling you up until it seeps out around his throbbing cock. Your orgasms drag on for what feels like forever and you get lost in the intoxicating haze of ecstasy. 

When you finally drift back down from your high, he slumps down on top of you, draping his large form over you but taking care not to crush you with his weight. After several moments of contented silence, you almost drift off to sleep from the warmth of his body and the crackling fire. But you’re roused from your half-conscious state when he sits up and gathers you in his arms, tucking you into his lap as he leans back against the foot of the couch. 

With a rustle, his wings unfurl from his back and drape around you, cocooning you in a soft embrace as a plume of powder puffs into the air. You watch as it drifts in the firelight and settles on your skin.  

Running your finger through the powder coating your arm, you turn to look at him in curiosity. “What is this?” 

Sheepishly he replies, “It’s a…mating dust.” He drops your gaze as he looks into the fire. “For creatures like me, wings are very sensitive and intimate and we only allow mates to touch them. The dust is a way of marking you so that others know who you belong to…” 

Mating dust? 

You should balk at the idea of being marked like that but you can’t seem to bring yourself to be annoyed. In fact, you kind of like the idea of belonging to someone. You took comfort in his watchful presence all those lonely nights in the dark. His soft and gentle caresses. The way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. The way he fucked you with a wild and desperate need… 

At your silence, his antennae flatten along his head again and he tenses. “I’m sorry, I should have asked but I couldn’t help it—” 

“Don’t be.” You say, placing a hand on his chest as you nuzzle into his warmth. “I just wish I had dust of my own to give you.” 

He relaxes and you look up at him, your heart warming at the grin that spreads wide across his face and the way his antennae flutter in delight. 

“Don’t worry. You’ve given me something far more precious.”  

Pink stains your cheeks as you smile, his words sending a flutter through your stomach. Resting your head against him, you listen to the steady beat of his heart, marveling at this beautiful creature holding you in his arms. Soon, the slow rise and fall of his chest begins to lull you into sleep.  

When a big yawn splits your face, he strokes a hand down your back and whispers in your ear, “Rest now, my sweet blossom.” 

With that, you drift off into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of soaring wings and scarlet eyes. 

Tip Jar :)

[diejager]

Cougar monster reader in heat with the boys

~🧋

Cw: implied smut, heat/mating cycle, musk/scent kink, teasing, tell me if I missed any.

It had snuck up on them, like a feline in prowl, stalking from the shadows and only making itself known when it pounced, striking with ferocity and danger. The signs were subtle, sneaking under their nose when they were around you. They were easily forgotten, something that went past their heads without so much as an ounce of concern because it could easily be mistaken for another thing. 

The slight change of scent on your skin, sweeter than usual, but unsurprising when your arrival was so turbulent, changing scents crashing over them like waves, switching between sweet and sour, bitter or salty. The perspiration that clung to your skin, smelling of sea salt and musk, was easily mistaken for exhaustion, sweat that collected from your hours spent at the gym, lifting, pressing and sparring. And your fidgeting wasn’t as abnormal as it was, you were a solitary animal and being introduced to a crowded Task Force made you anxious.

It went without any trouble - much trouble, since you were often struggling with how touchy and open they were - for another week before those subtle signs grew, blaring a bright red in their faces. It hit them in the face with a hard slap, shocking them like a bucket of freezing water would, and your change had them struggling and worried.

Your scent was cloying, overly sweet in your frustration, hauntingly seductive and taunting, calling to them with every small sniff of your musk. The perspiration they once chalked up to sweat from exercise was now connected to the heat that brewed in your guts, a boiling fire that caused your temper to flare. Then your fidgeting had grown to affection and noise, you yowled lowly, purrs rumbling out of your throat, small feline sounds that confused most that weren’t familiar with one; and you were touchy, running your hands over their arms, clinging to them with flickering ears and a swaying tail, fluttering your lashes with wide and dilated pupil. 

“You’re in heat, Hunter,” Horangi bemoaned, his nose scrunched up under his mask, willing - and failing - his body to stop reacting to you. He had formed a bond with you, and succumbing to your teasing and obvious signs of courtships would probably break away all the effort he put in to know you, find a way into your heart as much as you did with his mind, body and soul. 

“Need you, ” you mewled, nuzzling the crook of his jaw, nose running down his glands and nipping at him, your wet lips trailing kisses up and down his throat, “It’s too hot. Frustrating.”

Your persistence was cracking his wall. Your small, kitten licks, the gentle nicks of your sharp canines and the rumbling of your purrs where weakening his resolve, coupled with wandering hands and the curl of your tail around his, wrapping himself around you like a snake, he was a prisoner of his own body and needs. He was so close to throwing all his self-restrain out the window, to pin you against the floor and growl in your face, forcing you to bend and fold to his whims in the middle of the TF’s rec room. Horangi wanted to fuck you, his mind running circles with crazed thought of breeding you here and then, filling you up until he leaked out of you and was sure he’d knocked you up.

“Horangi,” you pawed at him, your hot breath hitting his bobbing Adam’s apple, feeling his patience thinning and thinning. 

You would be the death of his restraint and patience. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[mariasont]

Sundress Season - S.R

a/n: spent all friday & saturday writing so sorry 4 dumping so many works 2night lololol

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer decides to come help you out with some research and gets a little more than he bargained for

warnings: fluff, thigh kink if you SQUINT LIKE SQUINT

wc: 0.9k

You crossed one leg over the other, your nails drumming against the table, while your eyes bored holes into the book that lay open in your lap. You loved reading, more than most people, but when it was something you were interested in, not when the pages were smeared with the arcane symbols of mathematical algorithms that you could not seem to comprehend. It was giving you a migraine. 

At the call of your name, your head lifted abruptly, a welcome excuse the cast aside the loathsome book, expecting your coffee to be awaiting you at the counter. You weren't, however, expecting to see Spencer standing there. Your brows knitted together in a moment of confusion before you face relaxed into a warm, welcoming smile.

"Spence? Hey, what are you doing here?" 

"JJ said you were researching the neural network algorithms," Spencer said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement as he pulled out the chair across from you. "I figured I could lend a hand."

“Oh, bless your heart, Dr. Reid,” you praised, hand dramatically pressed to your heart, “I could kiss you.”

The subtle rosiness that blossomed on Reid’s cheeks didn’t escape your notice, and you couldn’t deny the small thrill of saying things designed to elicit the delightful blush. It was cute.

“May I?” he asks, gesturing towards the book, ignoring your words.

You give a nod and pass it over, his fingers brushing over yours in the process. It was hard not to stare at his face, admittedly, your scientific knowledge (or any knowledge) didn’t rival his, yet surely there was some explanation for why you found him so attractive.

You watched, curiously, as he made quick work of the pages, absorbing the information with the ease of a child flipping through a picture book. Maybe that was it—his intelligence, now that wasn’t far off. I mean, who didn’t want a man who could effortlessly recite pi to the hundredth decimal?

You found yourself following the lines of his face— from the subtle shadows under his eyes to the rhythmic movement of his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he concentrated, down to the soft dip of his lips. God, he was so beautiful. And even that term barely did him justice.

Your blatant starring was broken only when you realized his lips were moving.

“Yeah, totally,” you said, bobbing your head in agreement, clueless to his actual words but hoping you said the right thing.

He regarded you with a puzzled glance, his brow raised while carefully marking his place in the book. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

That famous, gorgeous smile of his spread across his face as his eyes darted around the coffee shop. His fingers patted his cheek thoughtfully in silent, teasing challenge.

“Wait, what?”

“The issue was with adjusting the weight initialization to prevent the vanishing gradient problem,” he remarked with an easy shrug. “Seems like the perfect time for that well-deserved kiss.”

His words sent a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks. Was he serious? You decided you didn’t care. Rising just enough to meet him, you cupped his face and planted a sloppy kiss against his cheek. As your drew back, you couldn’t help but delight in the sight of his ears, now tinted with a charming blush of red.

The intimate bubble burst as the barista’s voice rang out, announcing that your coffee was, in fact, prepared at last. You tapped his nose lightly before standing fully. “My hero.”

Spencer watched with a slack jaw as you walked away from the table, his eyes drawn to your thighs. The air seemed to escape him in a rush, his gaze locked on your outfit, now fully revealed as you stood up. He was so used to seeing you in dress pants, he’d never seen you in a dress, a sundress at that.

He was already burning from the feeling of your lips on his cheek but now it was spreading through every part of him as he traced your curves before landing once again on your supple thighs. God, you were beautiful, and that ass—

He was on the cusp of entertaining some rather less-than-holy ideas when the shrill ring of his phone intervened. He mentally berated the caller, wishing to preserve every detail of your image in his mind. Morgan. Naturally.

He swiped deftly at the phone, realizing it was FaceTime. Morgan’s head filled the screen, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in Spencer’s appearance.

“Morning, lover boy.”

Spencer was unsure what he meant. “Huh?”

Morgan simply flicked his cheek with a smirk. “Looks like ya missed a spot, hot stuff.”

Spencer’s face warmed with a fresh flush, hastily angling the phone away, his fingers working to erase the lipstick stain.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, man! You on a hot date or something? C’mon, Reid, who’s the lucky lady?”

Once assured his skin was free of the pink evidence, Spencer lifted the phone again. He didn’t get a chance to ask Morgan’s reason for calling, as your face appeared behind him, curiously glancing at the phone.

“Oh, hey Morgan!”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “No way! You’re kidding me! Penelope is going to freak—,”

His words were cut short as Spencer swiftly hung up.

[wwaheoh]

“Falling Asleep on The Job” - Victoria Housekeeping x gnReader (Platonic)

Alexandrina Sebastiane, Corin Wickes, Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon

a/n: writing this at 2 am but unlike the reader, i dont have a ghost milf to be there when i wake up...

As the newest member of Victoria Housekeeping, it had been a bit of a shaky transition. Still in high school, you’ve had to juggle your studies, hobbies, and your part time job all at once, it was a lot to hold on to- not even mentioning any extracurriculars or social life you might have.

So, all in all, pretty stressful. Especially now, coming back from your break, it seemed like the teachers were all trying to one-up each other on how many pages of homework they’d give. It had all begun to affect your wellbeing, always trying your best to give it your all, hours of studying began to dig into your sleep time.

An hour or two into the night began to become going to sleep at 4 AM or even just not sleeping at all and staying up through energy drinks.

After a particularly hard week- where you hadn’t slept at all last night and barely slept the day before that, you finally broke.

Shadows under your eyes, sweaty arms, twitchy hands, legs that felt like lead, and a light pressure on your forehead. You had been put on shift to help clean up a house, the usual stuff, thankfully nothing with any underlying “help” required.

As you were sweeping dust off a windowsill, you began to feel the familiar wave of tiredness wash over you. Muscles felt exhausted, a yawn threatening to escape you. Deciding to sit on a nearby chair to rest a little, you began to be lulled into a deep slumber. Head bobbing, eyelids drooping down- a desperate but ultimately futile attempt at staying awake.

And then you conked out.

Slowly you woke up, blur in your eyes that you had to blink away a few times before your vision cleared. You were turned horizontally- actually you weren’t where you had accidentally fallen asleep in the first place!

Immediately you rushed to get up, “Oh shi-!” before a mature, warm voice softly hushed you, a gloved hand slowly drifted you back down and set your head down on something soft.

Looking up, you saw Ms. Sebastiane looking down on you, a soft smile on her face as she pet your hair. From the lighting of the room, it was clear some time had passed. Meaning that you’d fallen asleep on the job.

“I-I’m so sorry Miss!” You let out, mortified at having fallen asleep- especially with how often housekeeping wasn’t the only thing Victoria Housekeeping did. Something terrible could have happened- and while there were other members of the company here, you would have been a liability.

“It’s okay dear,” She started with her usual caring tone, “You’ve been pretty out of it recently, Ms. Ellen told us of how your shared academics might be affecting your quality of life.” Her hands brushed softly against your hair, a spell of sleep beginning to overtake you once more. “It’s not wrong to ask for some time off, your health matters most.”

“Go back to sleep, I shall awake you once it is time for us to head back.”

You relaxed, her lap being used as a pillow as she let you sleep until it was time to go back home.

Something soft underneath the side of your head, you were lying down now- different to how you slept. Oh! You fell asleep! Quickly rushing to get up with a few expletives, a timid voice called out to you, “Uhm! You don’t need to get up!”

Looking at the source of the voice, you realized that you had fallen asleep on the job, leaving your coworker, Corin, all by her lonesome. Or at least on this side of the premises.

“Ah, I’m so sorry Corin!” You quickly tried to fix the couch you had been moved to, arranging the pillows and patting the cushions to make it seem as if no one had been sleeping on it.

“N-no! It’s fine!” You turned to her, confused but hopeful that she wasn’t just saying that to calm you down. “Uhm, I heard about how school’s been pretty tough, Ellen- I mean no one told us how it might be affecting you. You can rest for now! I’ll uhm, wake you up when I need help!”

You were thankful for her, worried that she’d be angry that you basically ditched her for sleep. Of course she probably wouldn't be that angry- she never got mad at Ellen whenever she slept on the job, but it was still a thought in the back of your head. Nodding, you sat back onto the couch as the feeling of drowsiness began to take hold again.

“Sweet uhm, dreams!” Corin whispered, worried that it wasn’t the right thing to say or not in the right context.

Slowly waking, you were still vertically sleeping, however where you had fallen asleep had changed. Quickly you got up, looking around for an indication of the time or Ellen, your coworker- and classmate, who you were partnered with for this part of the premises. It didn’t seem like she was around, but that begged the question of who moved you…

“Oi,”, You nearly yelped as you quickly turned to the person you hadn’t noticed, “Don’t move so fast… you woke me up.”

It.. seemed Ellen had the same problem you did, it made sense, the both of you did share multiple classes.

“Uhm-” “If you’re worried about waking up before the client gets here, don’ worry, I’ll wake you up.” “Oh! Uh, thank you.” “Mm…”

She promptly fell right back to sleep, with you following shortly after.

Slowly your eyes blinked open. You felt as if you just had the best sleep of your life. A soft pillow under your head, a warm blanket covering you, a homey scent of a candle nearby. Oh my gods you fell asleep at work and were acting like you were at home- hell even better than home.

You began to scramble out of this makeshift bed before a gloved hand firmly set itself on your shoulder. Turning to the owner, your heart stopped as you came face to face with your boss.

Quickly tears began to form at the edge of your eyes, mortification at having fallen asleep on the job and waking up in front of your boss. A therian that prided themselves on keeping a professional atmosphere and providing top-notch service to their “Master”s.

“I- I’m so-”

“Shh.. it’s of no trouble.”

God, was he going to fire you after this?

“No, I will not. Please, I’ve been informed of your recent academics and how they might be affecting your work-life balance.” He interrupted any other thoughts you might have had, as if he were reading your mind. “While I prefer you not to fall asleep while we are keeping the home of our Masters, I won’t be upset for minor inconvenience.” His voice was warm, deep, with a voice that seemed to lull you back to sleep.

“Now rest, I will awake you once the Master is due to arrive.”

[burntheedges]

shadows

Din Djarin x f!reader | 5.4k | ao3 | 18+

summary: you were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

a/n: well, I finally finished it! this is my very late entry for the Monster (S)mash from @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett! my prompt: tentacle monster!Din. 😏 thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing! 🧡

tags/warnings: spooky vibes, flirting, feelings and smut, canon-typical violence (with a bounty), this is a tentacle monster fic and there is smut, so keep that in mind, it's exactly what you think it is, kissing, grinding, fingering, but not with fingers, p-in-v sex, creampie, cuddling, manhandling, except not with hands, if you get my drift, pet names (cyar'ika, mesh'la, good girl), no mention of details for reader other than wearing clothes and being a mechanic

...

At first you thought the Razor Crest might be haunted.

It was the only thing that made any sense. 

Nothing seemed to stay where you put it. Your caf would move half a foot to the right when your back was turned. You’d put your spanner down and lose it, only to look for it and find it sitting atop a crate well out of reach. One morning you woke up and found all of your little trinkets next to your sleeping pad had been shuffled around. You’d squinted at them, suspicious, but none of them had moved again.

You started keeping a sharper eye on things, but you never caught even a glimpse of any movement.

Well. You never saw any of your stuff move, that is.

The first few times you saw… something, you brushed it off as your imagination. You’d probably just been in space too long, right? Trapped on the ship with nothing to look at. Seeing things in the shadows. 

But you would swear to it – something would move just out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned, nothing was there.

Nothing was ever there. Even though the movements sometimes seemed to happen just before you’d find that your stuff had moved around with no warning.

You were starting to question your sanity. You even asked Din if he ever had trouble finding anything on the ship, but he only shook his head. Ok, just a me-problem, then. 

It perplexed you and frustrated you. You found yourself staring at your belongings, tense, as if daring them to move. You were glaring at your ultrasound cleaner when you realized you had no idea how long you’d been doing it and maybe you needed to get out for a bit.

“Din?” you called, sticking your head out of the ‘fresher and looking around for him. 

He grunted from off to your left, but you couldn’t see him. 

“Can we stop somewhere, get some supplies? Before your next job.”

He grunted again, but you could tell he was agreeing that time. You smiled as you ducked back inside the ‘fresher, but the expression was short lived. 

Your ultrasound cleaner had moved three inches to the right. You would swear it. 

…

Din stopped on Hetzal Prime and you took advantage of the large market to stock up on everything you could think you might need, from bacta to fruit to the various bits and bobs you used to keep the Crest in good shape. Din accompanied you for a while before disappearing off into the market on his own.

The fresh air helped. You smiled as you took your time at each stall. When a light breeze rustled your clothing you almost laughed at yourself, thinking about how you’d become certain that the Crest was haunted. Outside on the warm streets of Hetzal Prime, your worries seemed distant.

As you approached the Crest, you smiled again as you walked up the ramp, excited to show Din what you’d found for him at the stall with leather goods. You could tell you were the first one back, though.

When you stepped inside, you stopped and looked around suspiciously. 

Nothing had moved. Everything was exactly where you’d left it. 

You narrowed your eyes as you looked around the ship. “Alright, you,” you said to the Crest, trailing your fingers along one of the walls of the cargo area. “What are you up to?”

The Crest didn’t answer, of course, but you found yourself suddenly on edge, anyway.

“Talking to the ship?” Din’s teasing tone announced his arrival and you turned around quickly, surprised to find him standing at the top of the ramp. 

“How do you always do that?” you said, a bit breathless.

He tilted his head at you. “Do what?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Sneak up on me! Kark, you’re so quiet.” You couldn’t see his face, of course, but something about the angle of his hip and shoulders made you certain he smirked in response. 

He pointed at himself. “Bounty hunter.”

You rolled your eyes and dug around in your bag for his gift. “Yeah, yeah. Ok, Mr. Sneaky Bounty Hunter, I got you something.”

Din took a step towards you. “You didn’t have to–”

“I know, Din,” you cut him off, “but look!” You held out the leather strapping you’d found at the market. “This would be perfect to fix your holster, right?”

He reached out to take the strapping with his left hand while his right dropped down to touch the holster in question, the one with the straps he’d had to reinforce with so much stitching it was more thread than leather, these days. It still looked like it might come apart if you so much as breathed wrong in its direction. 

But Din was still quiet, and you were starting to worry. 

“Din?” He looked up at you, finally and your eyes darted across his visor. “Is it–”

He cut you off by reaching out to grasp your upper arm with his right hand. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, squeezing your arm gently. “Thank you.”

You smiled at him. “Of course. I saw it and thought of your sad holster, I had to get it.” He snorted and squeezed your arm again before stepping around you and moving into the ship. As he did so his hand skimmed down your arm and lightly brushed over yours. You turned to follow him, but your attention was suddenly caught and you stopped. Something had just moved, over in the dark corner of the cargo area – you would swear to it.

“Did you…” you trailed off as Din turned back to look at you. “Did you see something move?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him into the ship.

…

Later that night you laid out the facts in your mind as you stared at the ceiling of the cargo bay on your sleeping pad.

One: sometimes things in the Crest moved without you seeing them move.

Two: sometimes you thought – no, you knew – things would move just out of the corner of your eye, but you could never catch whatever it was in the act.

Three: nothing moved while you were off the ship.

What if the Crest isn’t haunted? you wondered as you started to drift off to sleep. What if it’s me?

…

When you woke the next morning, you were already far away from Hetzal Prime in hyperspace and on your way to Din’s next job. You realized you wouldn’t be able to test your theory that it was you that might be haunted while you were both stuck on the ship. (Not that you had any idea why – or by what – you might be haunted in the first place.)

By the time you reached Druckenwell, whatever was haunting the Crest – or you – was at it again. It seemed to follow you around the ship, just out of the corner of your eye, messing with you. In fact, you could have sworn that last night, just as you were falling asleep, you’d felt… something… brush lightly down your arm. You shivered, remembering. 

When Din came down the ladder, ready for his hunt, you were staring at the pad that had just completely flipped upside down on its own while your back was turned, lying innocently atop one of the crates. He stopped next to you and looked down.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, tilting his head to look at your face. 

You blinked. Oh, nothing, just staring at this inanimate object that I swear just moved on its own and losing my mind. “Nothing.” You turned towards him and looked him over. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Din looked down and reached out to flip your pad right-side up. “No more than a few days. They track everybody's movements here, shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll probably stay here.”

He reached out to grasp your forearm and you blinked again, surprised. “Please,” he murmured, turning towards you fully. “Stay on the ship. Alright? We’re not in the best part of town.”

You nodded. “I will, Din.” His shoulders lost some of their tension and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ll be right here.”

Just a few moments later he was gone and you made sure to engage the ground defenses after the ramp came back up. You turned and leaned against it, surveying the cargo hold slowly. “Alright,” you said to the empty ship. “Let’s figure this out, once and for all.”

…

Nothing happened.

You moved through the ship on full alert, darting your eyes from corner to corner, shadow to shadow, looking for whatever had been haunting you for weeks now. You felt silly for carrying your spanner like a weapon as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put it down, either.

But nothing moved.

It was almost too quiet, too still. Too normal. You realized, now that you were on the ship without it, that you’d gotten used to more than just your stuff moving around. Suddenly the shadows themselves seemed less dark, less deep. Too still. It took the change for you to notice but until now the shadows had seemed, well. Alive. You didn’t realize how often something aboard the ship made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until whatever it was stopped doing it.

About 36 hours after Din left on his hunt you were lying on the floor of the cargo hold, exhausted from being so on edge, so intensely aware of your surroundings for so long. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if maybe you’d imagined all of it after all. It was possible, you supposed, that everything had moved because of… turbulence. Maybe space wind? Or something. 

Right? You glared into a shadowy corner, but nothing moved. It can’t all be in my head. You needed to sleep. Maybe this will all make more sense tomorrow. 

…

The next day, Din came back.

You were sitting in his seat, up in the cockpit, when your comm beeped. 

“It’s me,” he said, voice low. “I’m coming in. Wait.”

You leapt up, making your way over towards the ladder. When Din told you to wait, it meant he wanted you out of sight while he got the bounty into carbonite. You waited at the top of the ladder until you heard the hiss of the freezer.

“How’d it go?” you called as you slid down the ladder. You turned to look for Din and found him looking at you. You scanned him quickly but he didn’t look any worse for wear.

“Fine,” he nodded. “No trouble.”

You smiled at him. “Good. Where to next?” 

He brushed past you, moving towards the cockpit, and that’s when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, just there… you swore something moved in the shadows by the carbonite freezer. Something dark, darker than the shadows themselves. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

But when you turned to look, nothing was there.

You shook your head, frowning, and turned to watch as Din disappeared at the top of the ladder. 

What if it wasn’t you that was haunted, or the Crest?

What if it was Din?

…

You spent the hours it took to get to your next stop, to the next bounty, studying Din. So much so that you were pretty sure he noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

It reminded you of the beginning of your partnership, when you’d first joined him on the Crest. You’d flirted with him, of course, almost from the moment you met. How could you resist? At first you’d even thought he was flirting back.

“Look,” he’d murmured, and you’d wondered if you were finally getting somewhere with this man you couldn't get out of your head. But he’d surprised you. “You don’t want this with me.”

You’d scoffed, disbelieving. “I know what I want, Mando.”

He’d sighed, and you could still remember how tired he’d sounded. How weary. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. If you want to stay, this doesn’t happen.”

He’d sounded so certain, so firm. You didn’t know him well enough at the time to question it, and now? Now, when you were pretty sure you were actually in love with him?

Now all you wanted was to stay on the ship, and not get kicked off for flirting, of all things. Well, you also wanted to solve the mystery of whatever was haunting the ship. Or Din. 

And now you were staring at him, and even though you worried he might be getting the wrong idea, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

…

On Socorro, Din asked you to stay on the ship again, and you agreed easily. You had some maintenance to do, after all, and you needed to see if your theory was right.

You realized almost immediately that it had to be.

Din stepped off the Crest, and the shadows… lessened. The darkness in the corners of the ship seemed lighter. Nothing moved, nothing shifted, nothing squirmed in the dark. 

It was Din, after all. 

You spent the next two days trying to figure out what to do about it.

…

You were standing in the cargo area when he came back. 

“It’s me,” he gasped over the comm, and you felt your heart start to race at the tension in his voice, at the way he was breathing so heavily. “Wait.”

You turned, ready to hide, but the cargo bay started opening before you could. You darted towards the ladder, trying to make yourself scarce, but it was too late.

“What’s this, Mando?” said a deep, snarling voice. You shuddered. “Got someone waiting at home, do you?”

You looked and saw Mando dragging a large Trandoshan up the ramp. The bounty snarled at you when you made eye contact. “She’s a pretty one, Mando.” Your back hit the ladder and you froze. 

Din growled. “Shut it,” he said, shoving the Trandoshan forward. But it seemed that’s what the other had been hoping for, because he used the momentum to fall forward, breaking Din’s hold on him. He flipped into a standing position and snarled again. 

The next few moments played out in flashes in your mind.

Din, tensing, readying himself to leap towards the bounty.

The Trandoshan, bending his knees, turning away from Din and towards you.

You, scrambling backwards as the Trandoshan launched himself through the air in your direction.

The sudden roar that ripped from Din startled you and tore your eyes from the bounty to him. 

And that’s when you saw it. Saw them. 

Faster than your eyes could register, shadows erupted around him. No, you realized, they were coming from Din. Smoky black tendrils, slithering from under his armor, snaking down his limbs and outward in every direction, so fast it was like a burst of light. In less time than it took you to fully register what was happening they covered the floor and the walls and sped inexorably towards the Trandoshan. 

He never reached you.

The shadows pulled at him, grasping, wrapping him up in a stranglehold. Your jaw dropped as the bounty’s forward motion was arrested, mid air, and you gasped as he was flung into the carbonite freezer. 

Your entire body was frozen as you watched, as you allowed your eyes to trail along the tendrils of shadows back to Din. Din, who was standing there, breathing hard, holding the bounty in place somehow, but staring directly at you.

“Din?” you whispered, but he looked away and pushed himself forward to freeze the bounty. 

You heard the hiss of the freezer and watched as the shadows started to snake backwards the way they’d come, along the walls and the floor, slithering back under his armor. You watched, transfixed, as he seemed to pull all of the shadows that had just covered the cargo area into himself. 

You stepped closer, mesmerized, and as one tendril passed you you felt it caress the back of your arm before it whipped away. 

You gasped. You knew that feeling. You’d felt it before. 

Din turned around to look at you again, and you noticed he started to reach for you but balled his hands into fists, instead. He looked away. You could see his tension in every line of his body. The last few tendrils were snaking back under his armor when you stepped forward and wrapped your hands around his.

“Din,” you said, voice full of wonder. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He kept his head turned away as he shook it. 

“Din,” you said, insistent. “Look at me.”

He did, slowly. 

“Is this…” you took a deep breath. “Is this why—“

He nodded once, sharp. You stepped closer. 

“Din,” you murmured, reaching up to cup the side of his helmet in your hand. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You should be. Cyar’ika—“

“Listen to me,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m not. So this is why? Because you’ve been hiding this from me?”

Din gave in, finally, and reached forward to grasp your hips in his large hands. You could feel them shaking. He nodded again. 

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t hide from me.” You tried to meet his eyes through the visor and hoped, like you always did, that you were successful.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Din’s voice was gravely and rough. 

“I’m asking for you, Din.” You slid your hands up his arms and behind his neck. “Just you.”

He shuddered and let his helmet gently bump against your forehead. “I want to. But–”

You shook your head. “Trust me, Din.” You stepped forward until you were pressed against him completely. “Don’t hide from me.”

For a moment he didn’t respond, and you started to worry that he would pull away from you after all. 

But then he groaned and surged forward, wrapping his arms around you before spinning you and pinning you to the wall of the Crest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, voice deep and dark. You shivered. His hands found your hips again and squeezed. “Wanted you, cyar’ika.”

“Din–” you cut yourself off on a gasp when you felt it. Felt him.

First, the gentlest touch to your wrists. They snaked up your arm and you closed your eyes, lost to the feeling of what you now knew was Din touching you in a way you’d never been touched before.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft. “Look at me. Are you–”

You opened your eyes, and you knew what Din must have seen in them when he growled. 

“Din,” you breathed, feeling hot all over. “More.”

He loomed forward, pinning you harder against the wall of the ship. You felt light touches start to brush against your legs and then your neck. You sighed.

Din’s hand came up to cup your cheek and he tilted your face towards the light. You felt him watching you as you panted. “You like this?” he asked. He sounded stunned.

You nodded. He tightened the grip of the tendril around the back of your neck and you gasped. 

“You like this,” he growled, and then the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness when the lights went out. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but stopped when you heard the unmistakable hiss of his helmet seal releasing. 

“Din?” You breathed, and when he spoke you actually moaned at the sound of his unmodulated voice. 

“I’ll make it so good for you, cyar’ika.” Without warning you felt his lips touch your throat and you gasped. “Let me touch you.”

“Please.”

His hands didn’t move but you suddenly felt him everywhere. Soft touches trailed up your thighs and down to your ankles, wrapped around your back and caressed your neck. You felt one trace your cheekbone and sighed. 

“So soft,” he murmured, face buried in your neck. You felt what had to be a mustache tickle you and smiled. “Everywhere. Just like I knew you would be.”

“Can you—“ you gasped when you felt a tendril snake under your shirt and up your spine. “Can you feel? With them?”

Din nodded into your neck. “Not as much as— it’s not the same. Just… textures. And temperature.”

You marveled at that for a moment. “Din,” you said, and he lifted his head. You couldn’t see him in the dark but you imagined he was looking at you. “I want to feel you everywhere.”

He surged forward and captured your mouth in a searing kiss that took your breath away. 

You’d never been kissed like this. You felt his lips and his hands but then you felt them everywhere else, too. Head spinning, you sank into the feeling of being so firmly held in so many new ways. 

Din broke away and started pressing soft kisses along your jaw that made you sigh. You realized your hands were clutching his cape and let it go, sliding your hands upwards. 

“Your armor,” you murmured. But you stilled when your hands didn’t find anything but flightsuit. “Did you–”

“Yes,” he said, and you could hear his smile. “Faster with a little help.”

You smiled, too. You hadn’t even noticed him taking it off. Your hands continued their slide upwards until you reached his neck. “Can I…”

“You can touch me wherever you want,” Din said, voice low. “I want you to.”

Permission granted, you slid your hands into his hair, marveling at the feeling of touching something you’d never seen. 

“I want you to touch me, too, Din,” you said, and smiled when running your fingers through his hair made him shiver. You felt more tendrils start to snake under your shirt and obligingly lifted your arms. Soon, so quickly it took your breath away, you were standing in the dark in nothing but your underwear with a tall, strong, naked Mandalorian backing you into the wall of the ship.

Din kissed you again, and your mind floated away as he touched you. His hands were on your hips but soft touches, soft but firm, held you everywhere. They snaked across your back, tangled around your legs, twisted between your fingers until you didn’t know where you stopped and he began.

A sudden firm touch broke through the overwhelming onslaught of Din as one lone tendril snaked around your torso and teased at your underwear. You broke away from the kiss and gasped. 

“I’ll make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” you breathed, and he smiled against your cheek. Your head was spinning at the knowledge that he was touching you there, slipping closer, while his hands hadn't moved. “Din–” It started with a gentle touch over your underwear, nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. It teased at you, stroking so lightly it made you start to tremble. 

You felt your heart race even faster as you tried to split your attention between all the ways he was touching you. His hands held you firmly by your hip and neck while the tendril slipped inside the band of your underwear and downwards, making you gasp. You threw your head backwards as it started to tease at your slit and only the firm grip of Din’s hand on the back of your neck kept you from hitting it against the wall of the ship. 

The tendril slipped inwards and you whined.

Din began to worry a mark into your shoulder as a soft, unfamiliar touch began to circle your clit. Just as you began to catch your breath, a second one slipped inside of your underwear and began to tease around your entrance.

“Din,” you breathed, and he smiled against your neck. “Please.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and you could hear the amusement in it. “Please what, cyar’ika?” He slid his hand from your hip to ass and gripped it firmly, tugging your hips forward to meet his own. 

“In–” your breath hitched as the tendril that had not let up on your clit, not even for a second, pressed down a bit more firmly. “Inside.” 

Din nipped at your neck as he began to push your underwear down. “My hands are a little busy.” He squeezed the back of your neck and let your underwear fall around your feet.

Your cheeks and neck and chest began to burn with the knowledge of what you were about to say. “Not with your fingers.” Your voice was so tentative, so breathy, it was a wonder it came out at all. 

Din stilled, just for a moment, and then surged forward to claim your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he spoke, his voice was almost a growl. “Good girl.” 

You felt some of the tendrils that had been lightly teasing your thighs suddenly surge upwards and you gasped. Gently but firmly they parted your folds and held you open as a few more tendrils joined the one teasing at your entrance. You shivered.

“Right here?” Din murmured into your ear. “Is this what you want?” One of the tendrils pushed inside, just a bit, and you clutched at his shoulders. He used his free hand to lift your leg around his waist. “Tell me.”

You nodded. “Din, yes, please. Inside.” 

He started with one. It pushed its way inside you slowly and sent your mind spinning. It moved so differently than anything you’d ever felt before, so agile, so soft. A second one quickly followed and they began twisting together inside of you in a way that took your breath away.

It took you a moment to realize Din was still murmuring in your ear. “You feel so good, mesh’la. So warm. So soft.” He pressed soft kisses behind your ear as a third tendril joined the others and you moaned at the stretch. “So good for me.”

You lost track of time as he toyed with your clit and filled you in a way you’d never been filled before. You had no idea how much of him was inside of you, only that it felt perfect and delicious, particularly when he began to massage the spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Din,” you said, thrusting your hips forward. You could feel it building inside of you. There wasn’t a single inch of your skin he hadn’t touched yet and it was filling you in a way you never knew you needed. 

You whined as you felt it nearing and Din nipped at your ear in response. “Let go for me, cyar’ika. Let go.”

You did, and the pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche, building from the base of your spine, spiraling upwards until it overflowed from you in a gasp. He worked you through it, praising you, until you began to relax in his arms.

Din released his grip on your neck suddenly, but before you could even begin to make a sound mourning its loss, he used it to grab your other leg and wrap it around his waist, pinning you to the wall. His cock was suddenly pressed against you, right where his tendrils still held you open, and you moaned. 

You felt him start to pull out, his tendrils dragging lightly inside of you, and whined in protest. 

“Shh,” he said, kissing you quickly. The tendrils held you open once more and he thrust forward until his cock was sliding against your open, wet pussy. “I’ve got you.”

On his next thrust, the head of his cock notched against your entrance and you sucked in a sharp breath. You could feel his tendrils guiding him in as he slid forwards, pressing onwards until he was fully inside of you. Even after the way he’d just opened you up the stretch was amazing.

He paused for a moment, and you realized you were both breathing heavily and quickly. “Can I–”

“Move,” you interrupted him, and with a full-body shudder, he did.

Starting slow and building to a rhythm that took your breath away, Din began to move his hips. As he thrust forward again, the tendrils caressed you, all over your body. A few of them left cool, wet marks across your skin and you shivered with the knowledge of where they had been.

You yanked his head up by his hair and even though you couldn’t see him, you pulled him forward into a kiss.

Din groaned into your mouth and you clutched at him, thrusting your hips forward to meet his. The tendril that had again started circling your clit began to move just right, and you almost sighed into his mouth, jaw falling slack.

“Din, I–” you were building towards your peak again, somehow, and like he could tell, his hips began to move faster.

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Yes, cyar’ika,” he breathed. “Come for me.”

Once more, you couldn’t help but do as he said. It felt like being pulled over a cliff, floating through the air with him supporting you everywhere, tendrils gliding along your skin and holding you up. You’d never felt anything like it, this full-body caress that held you firmly as you fell. You cried out his name and his hips stuttered once, twice, before he followed you over.

…

In the time it took for your breath to come back, Din maneuvered you both onto your cot and replaced his helmet, so he could turn the lights back on. You let yourself drift as you cuddled into his side, but as comfortable and sated as you were, you couldn’t turn off your curiosity.

“Can I–”

He laughed, and you smiled into his chest. “Ask.”

You weren’t sure where to start, so you went with the basics. “Do they… come from somewhere?”

Din hummed. “Not… physically.” He tugged you closer and you went easily. “I sort of think of them as shadows. Part of my shadow.”

“Have you always had them?”

He nodded as two tendrils started to stroke along your arm. “My parents – my actual parents – taught me to hide them. So I did, even from the Mandalorians. I could tell, even there, that there was no one else like me.”

You tightened your arm around his middle. You had the sudden urge to go back in time and hug little Din. 

“You know, you said no flirting, but I don’t think they got the message.” You looked down at where two shadowy tendrils were lightly tracing shapes along your naked thigh, the one you had thrown over his hip that Din held in a firm grip with his left hand. You could feel a tendril wrapping itself around your ankle while another wound around your waist. Each one left goosebumps in its wake and you shivered at the delicious feeling of all the ways he was touching you. 

He sighed. “I know,” he said, tone wry. “I was trying to stay away, but I’m too used to being alone on the ship. Not worrying about hiding it here. I know where everything is. And then every time I thought about you…” he ran his right hand up your spine and squeezed your thigh with the other. “I was trying so hard not to flirt or catch your attention that I ended up doing… all of that. I had no idea what to do, I was so afraid of you figuring it out. I’m pretty sure I even moved some of your stuff in my sleep.”

You laughed and propped your chin on your hand, leaning on his chest to look at his visor. “Wait,” you said, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you can be sitting up in the cockpit and move something down here?”

He nodded, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I know this ship too well. It’s easier here.”

You bit your lip. You wanted… your next thought felt illicit, even after everything you’d just done together. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together and squirmed against him instead. 

He noticed, of course. “What?” He sounded amused.

“I just… if you can reach me, from all the way up there…” you knew he could see what you wanted. It had to be written all over your face. 

His grip on your thigh tightened. You grinned when he growled. Suddenly the lights flicked off, and you knew he must have done it without you noticing. You heard the hiss of his helmet release and realized neither of his hands had moved from your body. 

You shivered at the desire in his voice, once you could hear it unfiltered. “Oh, cyar’ika,” he murmured, and you felt hundreds of soft, barely there touches ease you into position straddling his hips. “Let me show you."

...

a/n: 👀

[v6quewrlds]

i saw you’re accepting dad/husband joe content eek!! could you write abt joe forgetting about his baby girl’s birthday because he’d been working all day? i love your writing smm 💗💗

you stood in the bustling kitchen, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. the aroma of baking cookies filled the air, a sweet pattern of sugar and spice that seemed to mock the chaos that surrounded you. you wiped your hands on your apron, the fabric smudged with a rainbow of icing colors, and took a deep breath. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a silent reminder of tomorrow's birthday party you were in the throes of preparing for.

amara and noa giggled in the living room, their laughter a delightful contrast to the pounding in your head. you glanced over your shoulder to find them playing with a pile of balloons, their cheeks rosy and eyes shining with mischief. "girls, dinner will be ready soon," you called out, hoping the promise of food would keep the chaos at bay for just a bit longer.

the door swung open, and joe's towering frame filled the doorway. the cool evening air brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of the falling autumn leaves. he looked exhausted, the shadows under his blue eyes betraying the toll the season was taking on him. you felt a pang of guilt for the mess you hadn't yet managed to hide, but it was quickly swallowed by your own fatigue. "welcome home, baby," you said with a forced smile. "how was your day?"

joe sighed, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen. "long," he replied, his voice gravelly. he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. "but i'm home now." he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. "what do you need me to do?"

you leaned into him for a moment, your body language screaming for relief. "could you take the girls for their baths?" you asked, your voice a mix of hope and weariness. "they've been driving me up the wall."

joe's expression softened, and he nodded. "of course, i've got it," he said, releasing you from his embrace. he scooped up noa, her chubby cheeks squealing with glee, and held out his other hand to amara. "c'mon, pumpkin, let's give your mama a break. it's bath time."

the girls trailed behind joe as he headed towards the bathroom, the sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your husband, so at ease with your daughters despite the stress of his career. you took a moment to appreciate the quiet that had descended upon the kitchen, the only noise the gentle hiss of the oven.

in the bathroom, joe filled the tub with steaming water and bubbles. he tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in his heart knowing that he had missed most of amara's special day. he looked down at his watch, the glint of the gold band catching the light. "okay, missy," he said, turning to amara. "let's get you cleaned up. tomorrow's the big party, and we want you looking your best for all your friends, don't we?"

amara nodded solemnly, her curly pigtails bobbing with the movement. she stepped into the tub, her tiny hands gripping the side tightly. noa watched from her bouncer, her attention occupied by toys adorning the toy bar. as joe helped amara settle in, she looked up at him, her doe eyes filled with a sudden sadness.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" joe asked, noticing the shift in amara's mood. he knelt beside the tub, his long legs folding beneath him with a quiet grace.

amara's voice was barely a whisper. "you forgot to tell me happy birthday, daddy."

joe felt his heart drop. he had been so consumed with his own responsibilities, he hadn't even realized he had missed the moment. "amara," he said, his voice filled with regret. "i'm so sorry, baby girl. i didn't forget. it's just been a long day for me. happy birthday!" he leaned in and kissed her forehead, her skin soft and warm against his lips.

the sadness in amara's eyes didn't dissipate. "but you didn't tell me when i woke up," she said, her voice small.

joe sighed. "you're right, i didn't. and i should have. i'm so sorry, amara," he said sincerely. he took a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt that washed over him. "but you know what, i'm going to make it up to you. mommy and i are going to throw you the best party ever tomorrow. how does that sound?"

amara's eyes lit up a bit. "really?"

"really," joe nodded. "now, let's get you clean so you're all ready for your big day tomorrow, okay?" he grabbed the bubble bath bottle and squirted a generous amount into the water, watching as the bubbles grew and grew, threatening to spill over the side of the tub. amara's sadness lifted, replaced by the excitement of the promise.

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Delaying a Phantom

Rhysand x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Amren grapples with her loyalty to her High Lord and Lady. Meanwhile, said High Lady's fall from grace proves to be a major setback in her journey.

Read pt. 1 of Delaying a Phantom - HERE

Read pt. 6 - HERE

Warnings: Descriptions of injury/disfigurement, Brief mention of trauma flashbacks.

“What the hell are you doing?”

As soon as the trio had winnowed to the House of Wind, Amren had attempted to stage an intervention of some sort, if you could even call it that. It’s not like she was expecting him to drop everything that he was doing, but she was hoping to at least get some answers- or some semblance of a plan. She watched as Rhys tumbled into the first seat he saw, Mor eyeing them wearily.

A groan broke out of him, whether it was from the pain or the spontaneous interrogation, Amren didn’t care. She cocked her head to the side, black bob swaying with the movement. “Well?” Rhys cocked his head up, eyes finally falling on Amren, they flickered over to Morrigan for a second before he said “I am doing what is necessary.”

Amren’s eyebrow rose, and she shot a glance at Mor to find her examining her nailbeds, clearly already withdrawn from the conversation. “Care to input?” She asked, mildly annoyed at Morrigan’s carefree attitude. Morrigan’s head shot up, the blonde giving a non-committal shrug. “I don’t see how I’m involved in this.”

Amren shot her a puzzled look. “Your High Lady just fled your court, this guy-” Amren pointed to Rhys as he shifted in barely concealed pain. “-just brought another High Lords betrothed into our home, and we are on the brink of war. Remind me again how this doesn’t concern you?”

Morrigan shifted on her feet as Amren pointed out her willful ignorance. Her eyes darting between her and her High Lord. Her clear awkwardness had Amren floored. Did she think this didn’t affect her at all? Did she not see how this situation posed a risk to not only you, but the entire status of the Night Court?

Morrigan’s non-answer had Amren releasing a disregarding sigh. “You both need to get your head out of your ass.” She said, grey eyes settling onto Rhys yet again. “And you.” She began, turning her full attention to him. She crouched down, forearms settling on her knees as she squatted. She looked up at his face that was scattered in scuffs and newly forming bruises. She held no sympathy for him, her tone coming out slightly colder than usual. “Is it really worth losing her over this?”

Amren wasn’t about to dive headfirst into a fight between mates, it wasn’t her place. The last thing she wanted to do was take a few pages out of Azriel’s book and start a brawl with Rhys. She seemed to be caught in the middle, her loyalty being pulled taunt between the two of you, and if there was one thing she hated, it was picking sides. But regardless of the situation surrounding your disappearance, you were her High Lady, and she’d be damned if she didn’t at least try to make Rhys realize what he seemed to be doing to you.

Rhys head lolled; his eyes unfocused for a second before they snapped to attention at her question. “It’s worth anything to keep you safe- to keep her safe.” He said, tone laced with a sort of desperation that Amren had never heard come from him. Despite his apparent fretting, Amren scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her.

“Don’t fool yourself, boy. You aren’t doing this for me.”

Azriel’s shadow was more persistent than you’d thought it’d be. No matter how fast you flew, the wind whipping past you and catching on your cheeks, the relentless blow of it stinging your eyes, it was right with you. It zipped around you, clung to you almost like a mother, and despite how at first you found it’s constant presence annoying, you began to enjoy the way it swept around you. After all those years you spent Under the Mountain, you forgot just how much you loved to fly.

I mean, of course, you had flown when you were in the Night Court, but after Under the Mountain, you could never quite bring yourself to let loose. But even before, when you were free to fly whenever you wanted, you were always so busy you either didn’t have the time or used your ability to fulfill your duties. You never really were able to sit and appreciate just how much you loved the feel of it. The way your stomach dipped when you suddenly plummeted, the wind that kissed you and ran its fingers through your hair, and the view.

By the Cauldron, the view.

The lands of the Day Court sprawled out beneath you, rolling fields and steady streams that had a goofy grin plastering its way onto your features. You could see every tree that dotted the fields, the sparse houses that appeared every now and then. This was the closest to peace you had been in a long time. The feeling had you spinning in the air, your wings tucking in to do a complete roll that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The sun felt warm on your skin, the cloudless sky not doing much to stop the way it melted into your skin and had a warm, joyous feeling beginning to sprout inside you. Your tattooed hands extended, feeling the wind fighting to press them down back to your sides as you studied the line that separated the sky and the horizon.

A rush of pain violently burned its way down the bond so fast you wailed, your figure seizing.

And then you were plummeting.

You couldn’t get your wings to move, couldn’t will your body to do anything as it continued to lock up. The pain still fought its way through the bond.

Pain cascaded down your back and a choked, pained sound left you again before you hit the first tree.

You collided, and you felt the branches hurtling into you, the sticks scratching at you. They cut you open, ruthlessly scraping up against you as you crashed through the trees. It felt like you were getting pummeled, the leaves hitting your face before you finally felt yourself collide into the ground.

You were dying.

There was no other explanation. Pain overtook you like a blanket, searing your nerves and making a piercing scream break through you. You twitched, a sob leaving you as you dug your fingers into the ground. Tears slid down your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, chest stuttering as you tried to breath. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t get a breath in, and another wail left you with less air.

Your forehead rested in the dirt; the crater you had made from your fall didn’t provide any comfort as your body flinched in pain. You felt a brief wave of revolting nostalgia wash over you, as if it was raking its grotesque fingers over your senses. It reminded you all too well of the cell you had been in Under the Mountain, the grime that had grown to be a permanent fixture on your skin.

Another throb had you snapping out of the flashback, and you came to your senses well enough to realize that the pain was coming from your wing. You attempted to unfurl both your wings, beginning to stretch them out before a blinding pain had you seizing up again. Your left wing only twitched in response, shuddering against the pain that went through it. You craned your head, sweat beginning to bead on your brow as you laid your eyes on the damage you did. The membrane was still intact, but the drooping told you that it was obviously broken.

Fuck.

A yell of frustration broke from you, and you blinked away the tears blurring your vision as you fought your way through the pain, a hand coming to push yourself up. You hauled yourself to your knees, another groan leaving you and you pushed yourself to your feet. The weight of your wing pulled it down, and it had you clenching your jaw in an effort not to cry out again. You braced yourself on a nearby trunk, looking around for any obvious landmarks to tell you where you crashed. You swallowed thickly, attempting to asses how you were going to complete the rest of your journey on foot. Despite your best efforts, the pain made it hard to think. You were almost to the Dawn Court border, so you started with the obvious decision.

You needed to get your wing patched up.

[classyhoeeee]

SATIVA:: Rafe cameron

WARNING! :: smoking (weed) kissing, riding, unprotected sex, teasing, strangers to lovers, Heyward!Reader, Dom!Rafe, Aftercare, Rafe Cameron x Reader.

SUMMARY! :: The reader is new to town. She’s Pope Heyward’s long lost sister. She sees Pope and all of the pogues in poguelandia and realizes that he already has a family and she leaves. Somehow she ends up discovering the ship of Rafe Cameron. She’d thought it was empty, but she has no idea what she’s getting into. Especially since Rafe was already reeling from Sofia’s betrayal and him having to call off their engagement.

A/N:: I made this when I was faded…clearly. Thanks for the love on “betrayal”. I’ll be doing a continuation of it soon. Hope yall love this one too.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Title: Sativa

Fandom: Outer Banks

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Black Reader

Setting: Season 4

Summary:

It’s late when you arrive—too late for second chances. You’d come to Kildare with nothing but an idealistic dream of finding your family, searching for Pope Heyward, the brother you’d never met. But dreams are fickle things, and when you see him—laughing, happy, surrounded by his friends—you realize there’s no place for you here. You’re a stranger. Not a Pogue. Not a Kook. Just a ghost drifting through Figure 8.

So you leave.

You walk for hours, the night air heavy on your skin and tears stinging your eyes, until you stumble upon an unfamiliar boat. It looms in the dark, quiet and empty, promising a brief escape from everything that hurts.

But you’re not alone.

Rafe Cameron, unhinged and bitter from his own crumbling world, is already there. And tonight, for better or worse, he finds you.

Excerpt:

The firelight cast golden shadows against the Pogues’ faces. You stayed far enough back to avoid the glow but close enough to see them—Pope, your brother, sat at the center. He leaned back in his seat, grinning at JJ, who howled with laughter over something ridiculous. Sarah and Kiara were there too, tucked in close like they were all family.

His family, you realized.

It was a scene straight out of someone else’s life. You watched from behind the tall reeds, unseen and unnoticed, a silent witness to something you thought you’d be part of. That’s why you came here, after all—to find him. To find them.

But they were fine without you.

The truth hit you harder than you expected. You weren’t a Pogue. You weren’t a Kook. You were just… you. New. Rootless. And suddenly, you hated the way your chest ached at the sight of Pope’s happiness.

Your sandals crunched against the dirt as you turned to leave. No one heard you.

Good.

You walked until your feet ached, your tears drying into faint tracks down your cheeks. Kildare was suffocating even in the open night air, the sharp line between Pogues and Kooks dividing everything, including the ground you stepped on. You didn’t belong anywhere—at least not here.

Eventually, the lights of Figure 8 blinked into view on the horizon, and you thought about turning back. Your rented room wasn’t much, but it was better than aimlessly wandering.

No.

The boat caught your eye first, its dark silhouette bobbing softly at the end of a deserted dock. It wasn’t grand like the other yachts scattered across the marina. It was… worn, like whoever owned it didn’t care anymore. Or maybe that was the point.

You stepped onto the dock cautiously, the wood creaking beneath your weight. The air smelled faintly of salt and gasoline, and you shivered against the breeze. When you reached the edge, you hesitated, staring at the deck of the boat.

It looked empty. Safe.

You climbed aboard, carefully lowering yourself onto one of the benches. The silence swallowed you whole, and for the first time in hours, you allowed yourself to exhale.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, staring at the water, your mind blank and buzzing all at once. Kildare had been a mistake—coming here, believing Pope would look at you and see family.

Stupid.

Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears back furiously, hugging your arms around yourself as if you could hold the pieces together.

A sudden noise broke through the quiet. A shuffle. The scrape of a boot against the deck.

You froze, your pulse thundering in your ears as you whipped around.

He was standing there.

Rafe Cameron.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His face was shadowed in the faint moonlight, but you knew him—everyone knew Rafe. His reputation hung in the air around him like smoke, dangerous and suffocating.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp, the words slicing through the quiet.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Rafe stepped forward, and your breath hitched when the light finally hit his face. His jaw was sharp, his expression unreadable, and his blue eyes narrowed as they dragged over you.

“I—” You swallowed, forcing words past the knot in your throat. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

He stared at you like you were speaking another language.

“Yeah? And what, you thought this was your boat?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just… I needed somewhere to sit.”

“To sit?” Rafe repeated, a humorless smirk tugging at his lips. He looked at you for a long moment before scoffing, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’ll leave,” you blurted, rising to your feet so fast you nearly tripped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Sit back down.”

The command froze you in place. Rafe’s voice was firm, but not loud. Not angry. It startled you more than if he’d been yelling.

“I—”

“Sit.”

You hesitated, your legs trembling as you lowered yourself back onto the bench. Rafe watched you the entire time, his gaze heavy and unrelenting. When he stepped closer, you saw it—the shadows under his eyes, the faint lines of something bitter and broken carved into his face.

He looked just as lost as you felt.

“What’s your deal?” he asked suddenly, his tone quieter this time. “You don’t look like a Kook. Sure as hell don’t look like a Pogue.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

“I’m new,” you muttered finally.

Rafe snorted, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he dropped onto the opposite bench. “Figures.”

The silence stretched again, heavy and unfamiliar. You stared at your hands, your mind racing, waiting for him to tell you to leave. To yell. To do something.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Rafe leaned back against the bench, tipping his head to look up at the night sky. When he spoke, his voice was softer.

“You’ve been crying.”

It wasn’t a question.

You didn’t answer.

Rafe didn’t look at you, but his jaw clenched, his expression flickering like he was trying to decide something. When he finally turned toward you, there was no smirk, no cruel edge to his gaze—just a strange, unsettling curiosity.

“You should go,” he said quietly. “Figure 8’s no place for someone like you.”

You stared at him, confused. “Someone like me?”

Rafe held your gaze, his blue eyes sharp and unrelenting. “Innocent.”

It was the first kind thing anyone had said about you in a long time. And it came from Rafe Cameron.

You didn’t know whether to run or stay.

Neither did he.

———

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain. Rafe leaned back, long legs sprawled, watching you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t decided to solve or destroy yet. The joint burned between his fingers, faint smoke curling into the air as his sharp features glowed briefly in the ember’s light. His blue eyes flickered toward you—soft yet cold, an unsettling contradiction.

“You’re still here,” he muttered, breaking the quiet. His voice was rough, low, and dripping with faint irritation.

You hugged your arms around yourself and muttered, “I didn’t think you meant now.”

Rafe snorted a laugh, his lips curling into that same cruel smirk. “You’ve got some balls, you know that?” He reached into his pocket, lazily pulling out a small crumpled bag and lighter. “But if you’re sticking around…” He tipped his chin, sharp gaze pinning you. “Get comfortable.”

You watched him as he rolled the joint with expert ease, his hands steady, the calloused pads of his fingers moving like he’d done it a thousand times. The flicker of the lighter caught the sharp lines of his jaw, golden skin kissed faintly by the glow. The scent hit you instantly—sharp, herbal, and dizzying. You flinched as he took the first long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You ever done this before?” he asked, tilting his head, voice edged with something between curiosity and mockery.

You hesitated, fingers curling tighter around yourself. “Yeah.”

Rafe’s smirk widened instantly, lazy and knowing. He exhaled through his nose, watching you carefully. “You’re a terrible liar.”

You blinked, heat crawling up your neck. Before you could respond, Rafe stood, looming as his shadow cast over you. His frame was taller, broader, and sharp against the night. He moved toward you like a predator sizing up prey, the joint glowing between his fingers. You couldn’t help but notice the contrast—the strength of him, all sun-golden skin and dangerous energy, against you, soft and small in comparison, your deep brown skin glowing like polished onyx under the faint moonlight.

When he sat next to you, his thigh brushed yours, making you tense. The wood creaked slightly under his weight.

“Here,” Rafe said, holding the joint out to you.

You blinked, eyeing it warily. “I’m good.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, the sound dark and amused. “Didn’t ask.” The ember glowed faintly between his fingers as he leaned closer, his voice a rough whisper. “Come on, one puff.”

You bit your lip, staring at it. His sharp gaze caught it instantly, lingering for half a second before his smirk grew.

You snatched it begrudgingly, holding it awkwardly between your fingers. It felt wrong—like it didn’t belong there. Rafe laughed again, deep and unrestrained. “Jesus, you don’t even look right with it.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, glaring at him.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Rafe asked, tipping his head as if genuinely curious.

You sighed, bringing it to your lips and taking the smallest pull you could manage. Instantly, the smoke burned through your throat and lungs, making you cough violently as you bent forward, eyes watering.

Rafe threw his head back and laughed, loud and sharp, the sound vibrating through the quiet night. “Holy shit,” he said between breaths. “That was pathetic.”

“Shut up!” you coughed, swatting weakly at his shoulder.

He grinned, the joint pinched effortlessly between his fingers as he leaned back against the bench, watching you with a flicker of something softer in his sharp blue gaze. You wiped your eyes, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Rafe took another drag, his head tilted as he studied you, that smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth. “So… who the hell are you, anyway?”

You swallowed, hesitating. “Y/N.”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Y/N Heyward.”

The smirk dropped from Rafe’s face instantly. His jaw went tight, the line of it sharper now, and you caught the way his fist curled slightly against his knee. The ember on the joint flared brighter before he exhaled through his nose, his blue eyes piercing into yours.

“What did you say?”

You frowned. “I said my name’s Y/N Heyward.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at you like you’d shattered something between you. “Heyward,” he repeated finally, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I’m Pope’s sister.”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head faintly as he leaned back. “No, you’re not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not a Pogue,” he said bluntly, his eyes dragging over you again—your radiant brown skin, glossy lips, and those wide, dark eyes that still managed to look soft despite the sharp edge to his tone. “Pope’s a Pogue. You look like you belong…” He gestured vaguely, his fingers trailing upward. “Over here.”

“Not everyone fits into your little Kook-and-Pogue boxes,” you snapped, defensive.

Rafe’s smirk returned faintly as he exhaled another cloud of smoke, the ember bright against the darkness. “You’re adopted then, huh?”

The words hit deeper than you expected, though his tone wasn’t cruel—just blunt, like Rafe didn’t care enough to sugarcoat it. You glanced away, tucking your arms tighter around yourself.

“Yeah. I found out about him recently.”

Rafe didn’t respond, though something in his expression shifted again—his lips tightening faintly, his gaze softening around the edges. He studied you for a beat longer before leaning in closer, the joint still glowing in his fingers.

“You want another puff?” he asked, his voice quieter this time.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

Rafe chuckled, his breath warm as he leaned just a little closer. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

You frowned, but before you could protest, Rafe lifted the joint to his lips, taking a slow drag. Your eyes flicked to his mouth as the smoke curled between his lips, smooth and lazy. And then he leaned in—so close that the faint smell of smoke and cologne hit you like a wave.

“Open,” he murmured softly.

You froze, heart pounding, but you parted your lips instinctively, and Rafe exhaled the smoke slowly into your mouth. It was warm, soft this time as it sank into your lungs, and you exhaled shakily, the faint burn fading quickly.

Your gaze flickered up to his face—so close, his golden skin illuminated faintly by the glowing ember. His blue eyes were sharp, locked on your brown ones, but there was something softer beneath the surface, something unfamiliar and unreadable.

“See?” Rafe whispered, his fingers brushing against your jaw briefly—rough and calloused against your soft skin. “Easy.”

You exhaled slowly, your heart hammering as warmth spread through you—part Sativa, part something else. Something dangerous.

Rafe leaned back finally, the joint still glowing between his fingers, but his gaze never left yours. For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people left in the world—two strangers tangled in something forbidden and impossible.

And it terrified you.

———

You exhaled slowly, feeling the warmth settle in your chest as the faint buzz of the Sativa dulled the sharp edges of the night. Rafe leaned back again, one hand resting lazily on his thigh, the other holding the fading joint between his fingers. His sharp blue eyes flickered toward you, half-lidded and unreadable, though the lingering tension in his jaw never quite eased.

“So,” you murmured finally, breaking the silence. “What about you?”

Rafe’s brow furrowed faintly. “What about me?”

“Your story.” You met his gaze, your voice soft but steady. “You know mine now. Tell me something about you.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle—a sound that curled around your spine and made your heart jump in your chest. It was too dark, too hollow, like he was laughing at something only he could see.

“You wouldn’t want to know,” he said, shaking his head faintly. His voice dropped lower, rougher, as he added, “You’d run if I told you.”

You swallowed hard, pulse quickening. Maybe it was the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like it wasn’t even a question—but it should’ve scared you more than it did. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, though the flicker of danger behind his eyes made it harder than you cared to admit.

“Tell me something anyway,” you said softly. “It doesn’t have to be bad.”

Rafe’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, you thought he’d brush you off again. But instead, he looked away, tilting his head toward the night sky as if searching for something in the darkness. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter—strained, almost.

“You know Sarah, right?” he muttered. “Everyone does. My little sister. Perfect Pogue princess now, I guess. Before she flipped sides, we were close.” His lip curled faintly, like the words tasted bitter. “At least I thought we were. That’s what pisses me off the most. She’s got that golden life now, living it up with John B and the rest of those idiots, and meanwhile—”

He cut himself off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

You stayed quiet, letting him fill the space between you.

“Then there’s Wheezie,” he continued after a beat, his voice softening slightly. “She’s my youngest sister. She’s… good. Too good for all this shit, you know? My stepmom’s got her now, though—keeps her away from me and Sarah. Guess I can’t blame her.”

The way he said it made your chest ache, though you didn’t dare show it. His voice had dipped into something raw, like he was talking more to himself than to you.

“And your dad?” you asked quietly.

Rafe’s jaw tensed, the muscle there twitching as his knuckles whitened slightly around the joint. He took another slow drag, exhaling roughly before finally answering.

“Gone,” he muttered. “Ward Cameron. Everyone knows him, right? The big man. Made his money, built his empire… and then left me to clean up the mess.”

You watched as he stared out at the water, his face caught somewhere between anger and emptiness. You didn’t say anything, afraid that if you did, you might shatter whatever fragile thing was holding him together.

After a long moment, Rafe chuckled again—this time softer, almost disbelieving. “Then there’s Sofia.”

You tilted your head. “Sofia?”

His smile turned cold, sharp at the edges. “Yeah. Sofia.” He paused, flicking the ash off the joint before continuing, his tone laced with something bitter. “I proposed to her. Thought she was it, you know? Thought I’d finally get something good.”

You blinked, startled by the admission. “You proposed?”

Rafe’s smirk returned faintly, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Had the ring and everything. Then I found out the bitch went behind my back for money.”

Your stomach twisted at the way he said it—flat and detached, like it didn’t hurt as much as it clearly did. You studied him for a moment, the sharp lines of his face softened just slightly under the haze of smoke and the distant moonlight. He looked tired. Worn. Like he’d been carrying the weight of the world for far too long.

“She wanted your money?” you asked gently.

Rafe scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Thought she could play me. Thought I wouldn’t find out.” He shook his head, his jaw clenching again. “She was just like the rest of them. Everyone wants something from me. I should’ve known better.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to. For the first time that night, Rafe didn’t look at you like you were a stranger. He looked at you like you were something else—something safe.

“So that’s me,” he muttered finally, leaning back against the bench. He tilted his head toward you, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Still wanna stick around, Heyward?”

You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, but you refused to look away. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I do.”

Rafe’s smirk faltered, just for a second, and you swore you saw something flicker behind his eyes—something vulnerable, almost surprised.

And for the first time, he didn’t have anything to say.

———

The warmth curled inside you, spreading through your limbs and turning everything soft at the edges. You leaned back against the bench, fingers grazing over the wood as you stared out at the water. The buzz was heavy now, but not unpleasant-like floating just below the surface of reality.

Rafe sat beside you, still smoking, his frame relaxed but coiled-like a predator waiting for something to happen. His golden skin seemed sharper in the darkness, carved from firelight and shadow, while yours-deep and rich, glowing softly in the moonlight-looked impossibly smooth in comparison.

"You good over there?" Rafe muttered, amusement lacing his tone as he glanced at you. The joint was perched lazily between his fingers, smoke drifting lazily into the air.

You blinked at him, your glossy lips parting just slightly as you nodded. "Yeah."

He smirked, tipping his head as his gaze dragged slowly over your face. Your cheeks were flushed, your dark eyes softer now, half-lidded as the Sativa sank deeper into your system. He'd seen this look before. Rafe had done this before. But something about you-the way you looked so sweet, so innocent—made it feel different.

"Fucking liar. You're a lightweight," he teased, taking another drag as he leaned back, his blue eyes sharp and glittering against the dark.

"I'm not," you shot back, but the words slurred just a little at the end, and you hated how it made him grin wider.

"Right," he muttered, smoke curling from his lips as he exhaled slowly. He watched you with something unreadable-like he couldn't decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

Maybe it was the haze of the weed, or maybe it was just you. "You want more?"

You hesitated. Your body felt warm, your head light, but you did want more-of the buzz, of the quiet, of the way Rafe's presence felt too big but strangely steady at the same time.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice almost shy.

Rafe's brows lifted faintly, something flickering behind his sharp blue gaze. He tilted his head, that lazy smirk lingering at the corner of his lips. "Yeah?"

You nodded, and before you could change your mind, Rafe was leaning in again, the joint glowing between his fingers as he inhaled deeply.

He moved closer this time-so close you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his golden skin seemed kissed by flame in the low light. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled the smoke toward you.

"Open," he whispered.

Your heart thumped hard against your ribs, but you obeyed, letting your lips part as Rafe leaned in closer. The smoke curled between you, warm and soft, sinking into your lungs. This time, it wasn't harsh. It wasn't uncomfortable. It was... easy.

And before you realized what you were doing, you'd closed the distance.

Your hand lifted to his face, your fingertips grazing over the sharp edge of his jaw as you cupped his cheek, holding him there. Rafe froze beneath your touch, his blue eyes flaring with something wild, something dangerous.

The moment hung between you, heavy and breathless.

What the hell are you doing?

You didn't know. Maybe it was the weed.

Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, all fire and tension and something you couldn't name.

Or maybe it was the loneliness-the same thing you saw in him when he talked about his sisters, about his dad…and Sofia.

Whatever it was, it pulled you forward, and Rafe didn't stop you.

Your lips brushed against his softly at first— tentative, uncertain-like you were testing the waters. Rafe inhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening around the joint, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned closer, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss.

You weren't sure what you'd expected — something rough, maybe. Something overwhelming. But this... this was slow and deliberate, like Rafe was letting himself fall into it just as much as you were.

The buzz in your head turned molten, spreading down your spine as your hand slipped further along his jaw, fingers brushing over his golden skin. Rafe groaned faintly-a low, deep sound that made your stomach twist—and before you knew it, his hands were on you.

He moved quickly, his grip firm but not rough as he grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap with a single motion that left you breathless. You gasped softly, your hands falling to his shoulders as you settled against him, feeling the solid weight of his frame beneath you.

Rafe's mouth found yours again, more insistent this time, his lips parting just enough for you to taste the faint bitterness of smoke on his tongue. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your clothes as he groaned into the kiss.

You should've stopped. Every warning bell in your mind was screaming at you-this is Rafe Cameron. This is your brother's enemy. This is the guy everyone warned you about.

But none of that mattered now.

Not when his hands were on you. Not when his mouth moved against yours like he was starving for it. Not when the Sativa blurred the lines between right and wrong, leaving only this-this warmth, this closeness, this dangerous, thrilling something that wrapped around you both like a storm.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, Rafe stared at you like he couldn't believe you were real. His blue eyes were darker now, his lips slightly parted, swollen from the kiss.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he muttered, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

You met his gaze, your pulse pounding in your ears. "So are you."

Rafe's smirk returned faintly, but there was no humor in it-just heat. Just tension. Just Rafe, looking at you like he was trying to figure out how you'd gotten here, in his lap, on his boat, on his turf.

And for once, you didn't care.

For tonight, it didn't matter.

———

The buzz deepened, warm and heavy, drowning out every thought except the boy beneath you. Rafe Cameron.

You were still on his lap, his hands rough and deliberate as they traced over your body like he was memorizing every curve, every dip, every place that made you shiver. His touch was firm, bordering on possessive, and it made you feel things you hadn't felt before-things you hadn't realized you could feel.

Rafe was a man in every sense of the word.

Strong, commanding, dangerous. His broad hands easily spanned the small of your back, holding you against him like you belonged there, like you were made to fit into the hard lines of his frame.

"Rafe," you whispered, your voice softer now, a mix of surprise and something sweeter, needier, as his lips trailed along your jaw. The way he kissed you-slow and burning-left you breathless, the faint taste of smoke lingering between you.

He pulled back just slightly, his blue eyes locking onto yours, darker now, clouded with the same haze that tugged at your mind. He smirked faintly, though there was nothing light about it-just heat. Just Rafe, looking at you like he could devour you whole.

"You good?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rougher than it had been before.

You nodded, your lips parting as you whispered, "Yeah."

The word had barely left your mouth before his lips were on yours again, hungrier this time. His hands tightened on your waist, sliding down, then back up slowly-pushing the fabric of your shirt just slightly to touch your bare brown skin. The callouses on his tan palms scraped faintly against your softness, earning a soft gasp that made Rafe groan low in his throat.

"You're fucking killin' me," he muttered against your lips, his voice dropping an octave. "You don't even know, do you?"

Your head was spinning, your fingers threading through the short strands of his buzzcut-soft and bristly under your touch.

Rafe tipped his head back slightly, exhaling roughly through his nose as you ran your nails gently along his scalp. His grip on you tightened, dragging you even closer until you could feel every inch of him beneath you.

The sound of your voice made something flicker in Rafe's eyes—a spark that burned brighter now. "Yeah?" he muttered, his lips brushing against yours. "You wanna help me?"

You nodded, your breath catching as you whispered, "Yeah. Let me."

The smirk that stretched across his face was sinful, sharp and lazy as his hands roamed higher, then lower, slipping under your shirt fully this time. His fingers danced along your bare skin, rough and confident as they grazed places you'd never been touched before-earning a soft, breathy moan that made his eyes darken even more.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice thick with something raw and hungry. "You're somethin' else, aren't you?"

Your cheeks burned, but you didn't care-not when his mouth was on your neck now, sucking faintly, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You squirmed slightly, your body arching into him as your fingers tightened in his buzzcut, dragging him closer.

"Rafe," you breathed again, his name slipping out softer this time-sounding almost reverent.

Rafe groaned, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His blue eyes were sharp, flickering with a dangerous mix of lust and something deeper-something you weren't sure either of you could name.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice rough, taunting. "You like my hands on you, huh?"

"Yes," you whispered without hesitation, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

Rafe's smirk widened, his fingers sliding along the waistband of your shorts, toying with the edge like he was testing you, teasing you. "I’ll give you more," he muttered, "but you're gonna have to ask real nice, baby."

Your heart jumped in your chest, your cheeks burning as his words settled over you. Baby. That shit made you melt.

You weren't sure what had come over you— whether it was him or the Sativa or something else entirely-but you didn't want him to stop. Not now.

"Please," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended as you ran your hands along his jaw, his buzzcut. "I want more."

Rafe groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating through you as he kissed you again-deeper, rougher this time. His hands slipped further, expertly tugging at the edges of your clothes until the fabric was no longer a barrier. You gasped softly against his mouth as his hands explored-trailing over bare skin in a way that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Rafe muttered, his voice almost a growl as his lips brushed against yours, then along your jaw. "Soft as hell. I could get used to this, y'know?"

You didn't respond-couldn't respond-as his hands continued their slow, deliberate path over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You melted against him, every kiss, every touch pushing you deeper into something you couldn't name.

He's your brother's enemy, a small voice whispered in the back of your mind.

But you didn't care.

Not when Rafe's lips were on yours again.

Not when his hands were holding you like you were something precious and breakable, despite how rough his touch felt. Not when you could feel him-every inch of him-beneath you, solid and real and unrelenting.

You were down bad.

But as your fingers tangled in his buzzcut and his lips claimed yours again…and again, you realized you didn't want to get up.

The air between you crackled like a live wire

—hazy and heated, every boundary forgotten. Rafe's hands were everywhere, his touch confident and rough, but still so deliberate, like he was discovering every inch of you and getting addicted to what he found.

Your breath hitched when his fingers grazed along the clasp of your bra. His blue eyes flicked up to meet yours-dark and heavy-lidded, silently asking permission. You didn't stop him. Couldn't stop him.

With a single motion, the clasp came undone, so seamless it made your head spin.

Rafe smirked as the straps slid down,

his gaze dropping to admire what he'd just uncovered.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice low, reverent.

His rough hands skimmed the sides of your soft brown breasts before palming them fully, his thumbs brushing across your sensitive skin in a way that had your back arching instinctively.

You shivered under his touch, heat rushing through you as his lips curved into that cocky smirk. "You're somethin' else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly. "Such a pretty little thing..."

Your face grew hot, but you didn't have time to respond before you were tugging him closer again. Your fingers threaded through his buzzed hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp as you pulled his face to your chest.

Rafe groaned softly-a sound that sent a jolt of warmth straight to your stomach-before he let himself sink against you. His mouth pressed against your skin, warm and unrelenting as he nuzzled between the soft curves of your titties.

You giggled lightly, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. You were high, and everything-his touch, the heat of his mouth, the rough scratch of his buzzcut against your skin-felt like too much and not enough all at once.

Rafe smirked against you. "What's so funny, huh?" he muttered, his voice muffled, before pressing a playful kiss there.

"Nothing," you breathed, tugging lightly at his hair again.

Rafe chuckled low, that dark, dangerous sound that always sent chills racing down your spine. Without warning, he buried his face deeper between your tits, shaking his head like he didn't care about a single thing in the world but you.

You gasped, giggling again as his stubble tickled your skin. "Rafe!"

He groaned loudly, pulling back just enough to latch his lips onto the soft skin at the top of your chest. He kissed and sucked there with a heat that left you breathless, leaving dark marks that you knew would linger for days.

"Rafe..." you whispered, your voice softer now, breathless as your head fell back sensually.

He looked up at you then, his blue eyes heavy and dark, the faintest smirk curling his lips as he pressed his thumb lightly against the fresh mark he'd left.

"Driving me crazy, Y/N." he muttered, his voice dipping into something deeper, rougher. "You know that? Fuck..." His thumb traced circles lazily over your skin, his gaze lingering on you like he couldn't look away. "So soft... so fuckin' perfect."

You shivered at his words, at the way his hands explored you without hesitation— rough, calloused palms contrasting against the smooth softness of your brown skin. It felt forbidden, unreal-like you'd stepped into a dream that neither of you wanted to wake up from.

"You're high," you murmured softly, though your voice betrayed you, breathless and full of heat.

"So are you," Rafe shot back, his smirk widening as he leaned in to press his lips against the mark he'd left. "And you fuckin' love it."

You didn't deny it. How could you? When his mouth was leaving fire against your skin, when his hands held you like you were his, when you were pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

You'd never felt like this before. Never let someone touch you like this, kiss you like this.

And Rafe... Rafe made it impossible to stop.

His lips found yours again, slow and deep, his hands sliding back to your waist as he pulled you closer-like he couldn't get enough of you.

You kissed him back with the same urgency, your hands wandering over his buzzed hair, his shoulders, the sharp lines of his jaw.

Rafe groaned into the kiss, his grip tightening on you like he was afraid you'd disappear. "You're mine tonight," he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and possessive, sending heat curling low in your stomach.

"Yours," you whispered back before you could stop yourself.

And maybe it was the Sativa talking, or maybe it was just Rafe, but for tonight, you didn't care.

You were each other's Sativa-intoxicating, warm, impossible to resist.

———

The night had swallowed you whole. The only things left in the world were the rough hands gripping your body, the fire curling low in your stomach, and the way Rafe Cameron was looking at you-like he wanted to ruin you.

You sat in his lap, completely bare now, your soft brown skin glowing faintly under the dim light of the moon. The buzz of the Sativa clouded every thought, leaving you wrapped in nothing but heat and him-solid, unrelenting, Rafe. You could feel his dick right against you, thick and hard, pressing right against your throbbing pussy, and the sensation alone made you gasp softly, your breath catching.

Rafe groaned at the sound, his jaw clenching as his hands slid down to grip your cheeks roughly, his fingers digging into your soft skin. He adjusted you in his lap, pressing you down harder, teasing you slowly, deliberately grinding in a way that made your thighs tremble.

"Rafe..." you whispered, breathless, your voice slurred and needy as you clung to his broad shoulders. "I need it."

Rafe froze, his blue eyes snapping up to meet yours. A slow, wicked smirk stretched across his face, his lips curling at the edges in a way that made your stomach twist.

"Yeah?" he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with satisfaction.

You nodded faintly, your cheeks flushed and your lips parted, the faintest whimper escaping as his hands kneaded your flesh.

Rafe tilted his head, his blue eyes gleaming darkly as he stared up at you. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, rougher.

"Tell me exactly what you need, Y/N. Say it with that pretty mouth, or you won't get it."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your soft skin buzzing under the weight of his words. Your lips parted, but hesitation flickered in your wide, innocent eyes-something that made Rafe's smirk widen even more.

"What's the matter?" he teased, his voice softer now, taunting. "Can't say it? Hm?" His thumb dragged slowly over the swell of your glossy bottom lip, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. "I thought you needed me."

"I do," you breathed, your voice trembling.

"Then tell me." His grip on your cheeks flexed slightly, dragging you closer as his lips brushed faintly against yours. "I wanna hear you say it. Every fuckin' word, slut."

The haze of the Sativa dulled the last of your hesitation, pushing you further into the storm that was him. You swallowed hard, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders as you whispered, "I…I need your dick, Rafe."

Rafe groaned loudly, the sound low and rough, vibrating through his chest as his grip on you tightened.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice dark and breathless, like the words alone were enough to drive him crazy.

You inhaled shakily, your pulse thundering in your ears as you stared into his eyes. "I need your dick…please" you repeated, louder this time, every word dripping with the heat and haze you felt coiling inside you. “Give it to me.”

Rafe's smirk turned into something feral, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as his hands moved to grip your waist. "Fuck, you sound so good saying that," he growled, his voice thick with approval. "What else, huh?

What else do you want, baby? Say it."

Your cheeks burned, but you didn't stop-couldn't stop-not when his hands were dragging you closer, pressing you harder against his big dick. The words fell from your lips without hesitation. "I want you to slut me out, Rafe."

He groaned again, his eyes squeezing shut for half a second like he was holding onto the last shred of his control before snapping them open and locking onto yours. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered, almost to himself.

His lips crashed against yours, hard and desperate, his hands sliding over your body as if he couldn't touch enough of you. The kiss was all heat and tongue, leaving you breathless as you tangled your fingers into his buzzed hair, tugging him closer.

Rate groaned into your mouth, his hands slipping down again to grab your plump ass cheeks and lift you effortlessly, standing with you still wrapped around him. The strength in his hold sent a thrill shooting through you, your arms clinging tightly to his neck as he smirked up at you.

"I’m gonna fucking destroy you," he muttered, his voice rough against your ear as he adjusted you again, pressing you against his cock exactly where you needed him most. "You want that?"

"Yes," you gasped softly, your voice breaking as your head tipped back.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing along your neck, leaving faint marks that you knew would linger. "You wanted me to slut you out, huh," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you asked for."

Rafe's grip on you was unrelenting, his rough hands kneading into your bare thighs as he held you effortlessly in his arms.

He tilted his head back, blue eyes dark and sharp as they dragged over your face. Your lips were swollen, parted, soft little gasps falling from them as you squirmed in his hold, trying to relieve the ache he'd teased into you.

"You need it so bad, don't you?" he muttered, his voice low and taunting. "Been whining and squirming all over me like you can't help yourself."

You whimpered softly, your nails dragging against the hard muscle of his shoulders.

"Rafe..." Your cheeks burned, your heart hammering, but you couldn't stop the words that tumbled from your lips, breathless and slurred. "I can’t wait anymore... Please."

His smirk stretched wider, sharp and feral as he gripped your waist tighter, adjusting you in his arms like you weighed nothing. "That's my girl," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Knew you'd sound so fuckin' sweet beggin' for it."

You gasped softly as he pressed you down on his dick just enough to tease you, the heavy pressure of him making your thighs tremble in his hold. The ache you felt turned sharper, pulling a high-pitched whine from your lips before you could stop it.

Rafe groaned at the sound, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he stilled again, watching your every move. "Hear that?" he muttered, his voice rough and teasing. "That little noise you just made? That's my new favorite sound."

You whimpered, your arms tightening around his neck as you buried your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the tears brimming in your eyes. He was too much-too big, too strong, too confident as he teased you like he knew every button to press.

Rafe wasn't having it. "Oh, don't hide now," he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "C'mon, baby. I want you loud. Don't be shy."

Before you could respond, he shifted again, pressing deeper in your pussy in a way that had your head snapping back, a broken gasp spilling from your lips. The tears spilled over this time, but the sharp edge of pain started to soften, blurring into something dizzying.

Rafe watched you, his blue eyes locked onto your face, drinking in every expression like he was memorizing it. "That's it," he groaned, his voice heavy with approval. "Look at you takin' my dick so good…fucking whore."

Your lips trembled, your breaths shaky as you started to adjust, your body slowly melting into his hold. You kissed him then, hard and desperate, your soft whines escaping against his mouth as the sharp ache faded and was replaced by a heat so overwhelming it made you dizzy.

Rafe smirked into the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, holding you steady as he started to move-slow at first, deliberately teasing as he tested you.

"You feel that?" he muttered between kisses, his voice rough and slurred, his breath mixing with yours. "Fuck, your pussy is so tight. Squeezin' me so good, baby. You sure you can handle this?"

You moaned softly in response, your fingers leaving scratches down his muscular back, digging just enough to make him groan against your lips. The sound sent a thrill shooting through you, the ache in your stomach twisting tighter as he moved you against him, holding you steady like you were weightless.

"Rafe." you gasped again, the word breaking as he gave a particularly sharp thrust that had your breath hitching and your eyes burning.

Rafe grinned wickedly, his teeth brushing your bottom lip as he muttered, "There's that noise again. Fuckin' perfect little slut."

He started to move faster then, the slow, teasing rhythm giving way to something rougher, more desperate. His strength was terrifying, the way he held you, bounced you on his dick like it was nothing. Your thighs trembled, your body completely at his mercy as you clung to him, gasping softly with every movement.

"You're so soft," Rafe groaned, his voice strained now, like he was losing control. "So perfect. I could do this all fuckin' night…"

Your breath came in short, shaky gasps as you nodded weakly, unable to form words.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve lit up as Rafe drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Say my name again," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear as he gripped you tighter. "Tell me who's taking' your pussy this good."

"You, Rafe," you whispered, your voice breaking as he shifted again, pulling another soft cry from you. "You are."

Rafe groaned, his grip on you bruising now as he picked up his pace, holding you like you were his to claim, to ruin. "That's right, baby," he muttered, his voice rough and breathless. "Take this dick."

———

The sharp edges of pain had melted away, leaving nothing but pleasure and the haze of the Sativa coursing through you. Rafe's grip on you was still unrelenting, his strength terrifyingly easy as he moved you effortlessly, keeping you wrapped around him like you were his to claim.

Your forehead rested against his, breaths mingling, the heat between you crackling like a live wire. You could tell-feel-that he was holding back, and something about it made you bold. The buzz in your veins urged you to challenge him, to push him further.

"Rafe.." you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as your nails dragged faintly along the nape of his neck. "You can do better than that."

Rafe froze for half a second, his sharp blue eyes snapping up to meet yours. His smirk twisted into something darker, something almost dangerous as he pulled back slightly, tilting his head. "What the fuck did you say?"

"You heard me," you breathed, your plump lips curling faintly despite the heat rushing through you. "I said... you can do better. Harder."

Rafe let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, his grip on your waist flexing in a way that made your body tense instinctively. "Careful, baby," he murmured, his voice rough, edged with warning. "You sure you want that?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you met his gaze, refusing to back down. "Yeah. I can take it."

Rafe's smirk faltered, just for a moment, before he shook his head faintly, a dark laugh escaping his lips. "You're gonna regret that," he muttered under his breath.

And then he slid his dick deeper in you somehow.

You barely had time to react before Rafe's grip tightened, lifting you higher against him like you weighed nothing at all. The sharp motion pulled a gasp from your lips, your arms clinging to his shoulders as he carried you across the deck, his strides purposeful, controlled.

"Rafe-"

"Quiet," he muttered, his voice a low growl as he smirked up at you. "You wanted it harder, didn't you slut? You're about to get exactly what you asked for."

Your heart pounded in your chest, heat rushing to your cheeks as he brought you to another part of the boat-somewhere darker, quieter, more secluded. He moved quickly, his steps barely faltering even with you still wrapped around him.

When he finally stopped, Rafe lowered you just enough to set you down, your back pressing against something solid. Before you could catch your breath, he was on you again

—hands gripping your hips, his muscular body fully on top of your soft brown curves, his dick buried all the way in you until there wasn't a single inch of space left between you. He had you in the mating press.

"You’re talking a lot of shit right now," Rafe muttered, his breath hot against your ear as his hands slid over your waist, his touch firm, almost possessive. "Let's see if you can back it up."

You gasped softly, your body arching instinctively into his as he pushed you further into the wall, his deep strokes deliberate, controlled, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

The way he touched you-how steady his hands were, how easily he found every sensitive spot-made your head spin. But when his palm flattened against your tiny stomach intentionally, pressing down just enough to remind you of how much space his dick took up in your body, it stole every ounce of breath from your lungs.

You let out a sharp gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your knees went weak beneath you.

Rafe froze for a moment, his smirk growing wider as he tilted his head to meet your gaze.

"Feel that?" he murmured, his voice rough and low, satisfaction dripping from every word. "That's my dick your stomach, baby."

“Rafe…Rafe…you’re so deep. Fuck.” You whimper frantically, your breath coming in soft, shaky pants as his hand lingered there, deliberate and teasing. The fire inside you burned hotter, overwhelming every sense until all you could think about was him —the way he touched you, the way he teased you, the way he ruined you without even trying.

"You still think I'm holding back, huh?" Rafe asked softly, his tone taunting, dangerous as she lightly slaps her face making her whine.

You shook your head quickly, your lips parting as you whispered, "No…fuck…daddy”

Rafe chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he muttered, "Good girl."

And just like that, the teasing stopped.

Rafe didn't hold back anymore-not when he gripped you tighter, not when he moved with a rougher, more demanding rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing through you. He was relentless, controlled but wild, his strength keeping you exactly where he wanted you-wrapped around him, completely at his mercy.

Your soft gasps and whines only spurred him on, his lips brushing against your ear, your jaw, your neck as he groaned softly against your skin.

"You're gonna remember this," he muttered, his voice rough and strained. "I'm not lettin' you forget how good I make you feel."

You didn't think you could. Not when your body melted into his, every nerve alight with sensation, every deep stroke pulling you further into the haze that only he could create.

He kissed you then, deep and unrelenting, his hands holding you steady as you wrapped yourself tighter around him, desperate to feel him closer.

Rafe was losing it. No one had ever made him feel this out of control before. The haze of the weed still wrapped around his mind, amplifying every sound, every movement, every little noise that escaped your lips as you clung to him like he was your lifeline.

And maybe he was.

"Fuck," he groaned, his voice rough and low as his hands tightened on your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. "You're so goddamn tight. Bet no one's ever fucked you like this, huh?"

“No…only you Rafe.” You whimpered softly in response, your fingers slipping into the short strands of his buzzcut as your body arched against him.

His strength was overwhelming, his grip firm and unrelenting as he moved you effortlessly, the sound of skin meeting skin sharp in the quiet air.

"You hear that?" Rafe muttered, his blue eyes dark and wild as he tilted his head to look at you. "That sound? That's you, baby. That's all you."

You whimpered again, your brown cheeks flushing as his words sent a rush of heat curling low in your stomach. The buzz of the Sativa made every touch, every sound, every sensation feel sharper, more intense, and you couldn't get enough of him.

"Fuck," Rafe hissed, his teeth clenching as your body tightened around him instinctively.

His hands flexed on your waist, dragging you closer as he growled, "You do that shit on purpose, don't you?"

Your lips parted, a breathless gasp spilling from you as you met his sharp gaze.

"Maybe," you whispered, the weed making you bolder than you'd ever been before.

Rafe's smirk stretched wider, cruel and dangerous, as he pressed his forehead against yours. "You're a little fuckin' slut, you know that?" he muttered, his tone sharp but dripping with satisfaction. "Tryin' to get me to cum in you. That's what you want, huh?"

You nodded faintly, your breath hitching as his grip on your waist tightened again, holding you steady as he shifted slightly, teasing you with just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Say it," Rafe demanded, his voice rough, taunting. "Tell me what you want, baby. Don't make me guess."

"I want you, Rafe," you murmured, your voice trembling but eager.

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he muttered, "You've already got me. Now tell me what you really want."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them. "I want you to nut in me…please."

Rafe groaned loudly, his grip on your waist tightening as his blue eyes blazed with heat.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his teeth grazing your jaw as he pressed you closer. "You want me to cum in you, huh? That's what you're beggin' for?"

"Yes daddy," you gasped, your voice breaking as his movements grew rougher, more deliberate.

The sharp slap of skin meeting skin echoed in the small space, sending heat rushing through you as Rafe groaned again, his hands gripping your waist like he couldn't get enough of you. The buzz of the Sativa only heightened the intensity, leaving you both drowning in the heat and fire between you.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Rafe growled, his voice strained as he held you tighter, his lips brushing against your neck. "Takin' my dick so well, baby. Fuck-squeezin' me like you don't wanna let go."

Your soft cries and whimpers spurred him on, his strength terrifying yet thrilling as he moved you exactly how he wanted, the rhythm relentless. The tension in your body built higher, every nerve alight with sensation as the fire between you burned brighter.

"Rafe," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body trembled against his.

His lips curved into a smirk, his blue eyes locking onto yours as he muttered, "Say my name again, baby. Say it louder."

"Rafe!" you cried, your voice breaking as his grip on your waist flexed again, pulling another soft gasp from your lips.

"That's it," he growled, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip as his movements grew sharper, hungrier. "You're mine tonight, baby.

You know that? Fuckin' mine."

You nodded weakly, your breaths coming in short, shaky pants as the tension unraveled, leaving nothing but the haze of pleasure and the feeling of him everywhere.

When the tension finally snapped, pulling a soft cry from your lips, Rafe cursed loudly, his jaw tightening as his grip on your waist faltered slightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough and strained as his dick pulsed in you, making a mess in your pussy with his cum.

You intentionally tightened your thighs around him, greedy. You wanted every drop.

Rafe groaned again, his head falling forward against your shoulder as he muttered,

"Holy shit. You’re trying to drain my life away aren’t you?”

You giggle softly between rapid breaths as you reached up to run your hand through his hair until you both caught your breath.

The world felt still. The haze of the Sativa had faded, leaving behind only the soft sounds of the night and the steady rhythm of the waves rocking the boat. The intensity of the night hung in the air, thick and unspoken, and the heat that had once consumed both of you was now replaced with something quieter.

————

You lay against Rafe's chest, your body limp and trembling from exhaustion. Every inch of you ached in ways you hadn't expected. His strength had been overwhelming-almost too much-but somehow, he'd been everything you didn't know you wanted.

But now, the buzz was gone, and reality was creeping back in.

You felt his arm tighten around you as he shifted slightly, the movement careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. You weren't sure what to say-or if you even could say anything. Your legs felt useless, every muscle sore, and the faint sensation of him still lingering inside you made your cheeks burn.

Rafe noticed. Of course he did.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough. He tilted his head to look down at you, his blue eyes darker now, softer in the dim light. "You okay?"

You hesitated, your lips parting as you tried to find the words. But instead of answering, you winced slightly as you shifted, your thighs trembling beneath you.

"Thought so," Rafe muttered, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. But the teasing edge was gone now, replaced with something quieter. Something almost...concerned.

He moved quickly, lifting you with the same ease he'd had all night, though his touch was gentler now. "You can't walk, can you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

You shook your head faintly, your body burning as you whispered, "No."

Rafe's smirk returned, just barely, as he carried you across the deck. "You should've thought about that before beggin' me for more," he muttered, though his tone lacked the sharpness it usually held.

You glared at him weakly, your voice soft but still defiant. "You didn't exactly stop me."

Rafe chuckled low, the sound rumbling in his chest as he stepped into the small cabin below deck. "Fair point."

He set you down carefully on the small bench near the bed, his hands lingering on your waist as if to steady you. His sharp blue eyes scanned over you, taking in every detail

-your disheveled black hair, your smeared lip gloss, your trembling legs, the faint dark bruises on your soft brown skin, the way you winced slightly when you moved.

"Stay here," he muttered, his tone softer now, almost an order.

You nodded faintly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

Rafe disappeared for a moment, and you heard the sound of running water from somewhere deeper in the cabin. When he returned, he was holding a damp towel, his expression unreadable as he knelt in front of you.

You blinked at him, startled. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he muttered, his voice gruff as he lifted your leg slightly, his touch gentle. "You're a fuckin' mess."

“Thanks…I guess.” You say sarcastically as you rolled your eyes at the bluntness, but you didn't stop him as he cleaned you up carefully, his rough hands surprisingly tender as they worked.

The towel was warm, soothing against your sore brown skin, and you let out a soft sigh as the tension in your body began to ease.

"Better?" Rafe asked, his voice quieter now as he looked up at you.

You nodded, your lips curling faintly into a small, tired smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

Rafe didn't respond right away. He tossed the towel aside, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he muttered, "You're leaking my cum, you know."

Your eyes widened and you had began to sweat almost immediately, and you looked away, embarrassed. "Rafe-"

"What?" he teased, though his smirk was softer now, less cruel. "It's true."

You didn't respond, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap as you avoided his gaze. But then you felt his hand on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

"Hey," Rafe muttered, his voice softer now, his blue eyes searching yours. "You good, Heyward?" You hesitated, the weight of the night pressing down on you as you nodded faintly.

"Yeah. I think so."

Rafe studied you for a moment longer before nodding, his hand dropping back to his side as he stood. "Good. Get some rest," he muttered, his tone gruff as he turned away.

You blinked at him, surprised. "You're leaving?"

Rafe glanced back at you, his smirk faint but still present. "I'll be right here," he said, gesturing toward the small chair by the bed.

"Just didn't think you'd want me all over you right now."

You swallowed hard, your voice soft as you whispered, "I don't mind."

Rafe paused, his smirk faltering slightly as he looked at you. For a moment, the sharp edges of him softened, and he nodded faintly before sitting beside you on the bench.

He didn't say anything else, and neither did you. The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable, as you leaned against his shoulder, your body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the night.

And for now, that was enough.

[cutvdo]

Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU - summary

When I read a long fanfic I like I do a little summary on what happens each chapter so I can easily reread the parts I want.

So I did one for @kyri45 Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU comic.

link to comic master post

THIS IS SPOILERS, GO READ THE COMIC BEFORE READING THIS!!!!

The way it goes is "summary (characters that show up) extra". The extra is like if someone is blushing or no-glamour, easier for compilations. and Sun = Sun Wukong.

P.1: First Arc 1) master post 2) we will co-mentor MK (MK Sun Mac) 3) MK has shadow powers, Mama!Macaque (MK Sun Mac) 4) MK has 4 ears, he is perfect (MK Sun Mac) 5) Don't you know powers are genetic (🔥Redson MK) 6) Pigsy phone call (Sun Mac 🐷Pigsy-phone📞) 7) too much noise (MK Sun Mac) 8) we are related talk (MK Sun Mac) 9) Pigsy shovel talk (Sun Mac 🐷Pigsy)

P.2: Week 1 and 2 1) MK corner (MK Sun Mac) 2) new clothes (MK) bonus) PIF finds out (🔥Red 🪭PIF Mac) 3) afraid to apologies (Sun Mac MK-sleeping) 4) train Kaiju form with Mac (MK Sun Mac) 5) Mac apologies to MK (MK Sun Mac) 6) MK planed this (MK Sun) reddit-ing 7) Redson and Mei find out (MK 🔥Red 🐉Mei 🪭PIF) 8) Redson gives MK support (MK 🔥Red)+(Sun 🐃DBK) 9) Bull gives advice to Sun (Sun 🐃DBK)

P.3: Training montage 1) Sun stepping down from an argument (MK Sun Mac) 2) never gives up (MK Sun Mac) Sun blush🔴 3) Grooming train (MK Sun Mac Monkeys) 4) more for MK (Sun Mac 👓Tang) bonus) Family dinner (MK Sun Mac) 5) soft ears (MK Sun Mac 🔥Red 🐉Mei) Mac blush🔴 6) MK's room (MK Sun Mac)

P:4: Un-divorce arc 1) APOLOGY (Sun Mac) glamour-less Sun 2) Mec nightmare (Sun Mac Monkeys) 3) Sun nightmare (Sun Mac Monkeys) 4) made bed bigger (Sun Mac Monkeys) 5) 🍼MK is baby now (MK Sun Mac) 6) Mama Mamacaque (MK Sun Mac) 7) Mamacaque shadow play (MK Mac Sun-watch) 8) Want parenthood talk (Sun Mac) 9) family cuddle (MK Sun Mac) 10) MK wakes-up to family cuddle (MK Sun-Mac-sleep) bonus) Spicynoodle (MK 🔥Red 🐉Mei)

P.5: More than a successor 1) 2am waiting for Mac (Sun Mac) 2) MK sees past (Sun Mac 🐷Pigsy-phone📞) 3) giving Pigsy and Tang advice (MK 🐷Pigsy 👓Tang Sun-Mac-phone📞) 4) Sun freakout (Sun Mac) 5) not a nightmare (MK Sun Mac) glamour-less Mac 6) it was the only way (MK Sun Mac) 7) family hug (MK Sun Mac) talk 8) Sandy therapy (MK 🐱Sandy) 9) not a successor anymore (MK Sun Mac 🐱Sandy) 10) continue part 9 (MK Sun Mac) 11) Xiaotian , new weapon (MK Sun Mac)

P.6: Training Arc 2, Electric Boogaloo 1) ask ⚔️Chiyou[god of war] (MK Sun Mac) 2) making weapon (MK Sun Mac) Mac blush🔴 3) weapon revile (MK Sun Mac) 4) human Sun and Mac (MK Sun Mac) 5) Lilo and stitch (🐷Pigsy MK Sun-phone📞) 6) Sun nightmare: cuddle prison (MK Sun Mac) 7) Sun nightmare: family cuddle (MK Sun Mac) 8) 3 monkies clinging (MK Sun Mac) 9) Red and MK sparring (MK 🔥Red 🐉Mei) MK-blush!🔴🔴🔴 10) puberty talk (MK Sun Mac) Mac-blush🔴🔴 11) puberty talk + tickle attack (MK Mac) Mac-MK-blush🔴 12) trans (MK Sun Mac)

P.7: Full Moon Eclipse 1) Mac's cold, Sun takes to hot springs (Sun Mac) Sun-blush🔴 2) why Mac was cold (Sun Mac) 3) MK goes to Red to clear misunderstanding (MK 🔥Red Bob) 4) MK and Red talking, demon etiquette, white hair (MK 🔥Red) 5) not a freak (MK 🔥Red 🐃DBK Sun) everyone-blush LMAO🔴🔴🔴🔴 6) Mac explaining to MK about white hair (MK Mac 🔥Red Sun) Sun-blush🔴 What cover text says: link 7) parents reactions (Sun 🐃DBK Mac 🪭PIF) 8) eclipse (MK Mac Sun 🐉Mei-phone📞) glamour-less Mac & MK + white fur 9) fully charged, MK makes a quick call (MK Mac Sun) glamour-less Mac & MK + white fur 10) MK calls Mei (MK 🐉Mei-phone📞) 11) Sun forgive Mac (Mac Sun) glamour-less Sun 12) Baba Mama (MK Mac Sun) Sun-cry 13) Sun's and Mac's reactions, Heaven! (Mac Sun MK-sleep) Mac-Sun-cry Sun-blush🔴

P.8: A Dark, Long Night 1) Nezha you are joking? (MK 🛞Nezha 👺li-jing) 2) Mac stops Wukong from being impulsive (Mac Sun) 3) MK gets a circlet and a contract (MK 🛞Nezha 👺li-jing 🌿Guanyin) HURT ANGST 4) Family meeting (Sun Mac 🐷Pigsy 👓Tang 🐉Mei 🐱Sandy 🔥Red) at FFM 5) bonding over daddy issues (MK 🛞Nezha) 6) tied name contract (MK 🛞Nezha 🌿Guanyin 🔥Red) 7) Nezha gives Red and MK space (MK 🛞Nezha 🔥Red) 8) Red is upset (MK 🔥Red) MK-Red-blush🔴 + color🎨 History from when the comic was posted: We got a challenge from kyri54 to make the comic tag trend, and this is the result LINK to kyri54 post. God the day of was wild, so many posts. 9) MK self sacrifice did damage to his loved ones part 2, electric bogaloo (MK 🔥Red) MK-Red-blush🔴 What cover text says: link 10) 🎉KISS!!!!!!!! (MK 🔥Red) MK-Red-blush🔴 color🎨 11) kissing for 20 panels (MK 🔥Red) MK-Red-blush🔴 12) Nezha walk in on them (MK 🔥Red 🛞Nezha) MK-Red-blush🔴 13) MK asks for Mac's help (🔥Red Mac Sun 🐷Pigsy MK) Red-blush🔴 14) a distraction and a challenge (🔥Red Mac Sun 🐉Mei 🐷Pigsy 👓Tang MK) Red-blush🔴 15) Wukong took the news about MK's circlet very well /s (Sun Mac 🐷Pigsy 👓Tang 🐉Mei 🐱Sandy 🔥Red) animation! Sun-kaiju 16) girl fight! (Mac Sun 🐉Mei) kaiju 17) see yourself the way I see you (Mac Sun) links to the flashbacks from the show: link link 18) December 24th 1PM ET

Of course the comic didn't end yet (I will cry when it does) so I will edit the post from time to time.