#short-fic

[theunsinkablesappho]

Bellara Week 2025 (Prompt: Free Day)

Bellara prattled away happily about her latest project while she tinkered with the mechanisms. Evabas was lounging on the bench in the corner of her room, where they often dallied while Bellara worked. She used to apologize for talking so much, but Evabas swore they enjoyed hearing it. And maybe they really did. It was nice to be able to talk endlessly in Dalish without having to stop and remember to speak in one of the human languages. She could talk to Davrin too, but he was not around as much as Evabas was. Evabas spoke Dalish as well as anyone.

“You know, I keep forgetting to ask,” Bellara changed subjects suddenly, as she was prone to do. “Does your name mean anything?”

Evabas did not answer, and Bellara put her tool down, turning to look at her. The tall qunari looked genuinely startled, and Bellara was sure she had said something wrong.

“What?”

“Is that rude to ask? I’m sorry. It’s just, Taash was saying the other day that their name means little dragon. And Jadal said that Shathann means something about the importance of manners.” Bellara sat down on her stool, watching Evabas but trying not to stare at them. Sometimes she forgot to not stare. “It just made me wonder if your name meant something too.”

“Um, yes,” Evabas still looked uncomfortable as she sat upright. “It means ‘little thing’.” Bellara blinked in surprise at that. Thing. Little thing. That did not seem like a kind name. Maybe it was something that did not translate?

“Oh. Well that’s-”

“It’s not… Qunari don’t really have names. We get nicknames from our friends. When I ran away, the others just called me Evabas. I was scrawny and smaller than they were. And the Dalish had no idea what it meant, so they just kept calling me that. It’s a dumb name.”

“No! No no, it’s not dumb. I’m sure they meant it fondly. Like that you were a cute little thing.” Bellara felt hopelessly awkward. She had not meant to upset Evabas with her question. “I bet you were very cute. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a qunari child, but you had to be cute, right?” That got a smile from Evabas, and Bellara immediately felt better.

“Yeah. I mean, look at how gorgeous I am now? I was probably the cutest little grey kid ever. No wonder the Dalish kept me.” Bellara giggled and stood up, walking over to Evabas and settling easily on their lap. She reached up to touch their cheek and then kissed them sweetly on the lips.

“Exactly! We Dalish know a good thing when we see it, you know.”

“Well, I know that you do.”

—-------—-------—-------—-------—-------

“Taash!” Bellara shouted excitedly as she burst into Taash’s room without knocking. She was greeted by the sight of Melovera Laidir scrambling off the tall qunari warrior and nearly face-planting on the floor next to the bed in the process. Mel was still clothed, but Taash was naked from the waist up, and the qunari warrior lurched up to grab their girlfriend to keep her from breaking her face.

“Hey! You’re supposed to knock!” Taash shouted, clearly more surprised than angry.

“Oops! Sorry. I forgot.” But Bellara made no move to leave as Mel stood up from the floor. Taash’s hands got in the way as Mel tried to dust herself off and preserve her dignity, and then the slender Rivaini elf yelped as Taash jerked her back into the bed. “Can I ask you a question?” Both Mel and Taash just sighed loudly.

“If it’s a quick one, yeah.” Taash’s hand wandered down to Mel’s thigh and got a sharp slap from Mel for their exploration. Taash sighed again and sat up properly in the bed, not at all shy about their nudity.

“Thank you! I’ll be quick. Did you know that Evabas’s name means ‘little thing’?”

“Wait, it does?” Mel cut in, looking back at Taash. Taash just shrugged at both of them. “That… seems harsh. Is it like, an affectionate thing?”

“Dunno,” Taash answered simply. “I don’t think it is a thing. I’ve never heard anyone else called that.”

“I think it bothers them,” Bellara said quickly. “Can you tell me something else to call them? In Qunlat, I mean.” Bellara fidgeted with her hands while she spoke, and bounced up on her toes to try to hide her nervousness.

“Well, I mean, there’s Taarala-”

“No,” Mel cut in. “That one is taken.” Taash chuckled.

“Good point. You could call her kadan, if you feel that way?”

“Kadan… Ka-dan. Ka-dan.” Bellara tested the sound on her tongue. Qunlat was so harsh and stiff compared to Dalish, it made her tongue feel wrong. “I like that. That’s not so bad to say. What does it mean?”

“Uh, it means heart. As in, you are my heart.”

“Oh! Well that’s perfect! Thank you!” Bellara practically jumped with excitement and hurried out the door.

“Hey! Shut the door!” Mel shouted after Bellara.

“You said you were going to ward it-” Taash’s voice faded into nothing as Bellara left the hallway that lead to their room

—-------—-------—-------—-------—-------

Bellara hummed softly as she trailed a finger lazily over Evabas’ stomach. She had a leg hooked around one of Evabas’ thighs and was stretched out against their side on the thick pile of blankets spread out on her floor to approximate a bed. The size difference was always obvious, but in these moments, when they were skin to skin, not even the air between them, it felt both exaggerated and diminished. The muscles on Evabas’ stomach tensed a little as Bellara continued to tease her finger over them. How cute that Evabas was ticklish. How odd that despite both being mages, Evabas was so much more muscular.

“What are you thinking about?” Evabas’ voice sliced gently through the silence.

“Hmm?” Bellara stilled her exploration, reaching up to rest her hand in the valley between Evabas’ breasts, her chin now on their shoulder as she looked up to their face.

“You’re quiet. That usually means you are thinking about something,” Evabas observed and Bellara giggled.

“I was thinking about how pretty you are. And,” Bellara hesitated for a moment. Then she pushed herself up on her other hand, leaning over Evabas with her hand still on their chest. Her long hair, let loose in the process of their lovemaking, fell around her like a curtain. “I was thinking about something else.” Bellara shivered a little as Evabas’ hand found her thigh and slid easily up to her hip and then her waist. There was such strength in those hands, but Evabas was never anything but gentle and soft with her.

“Do I need to guess?”

“No, kadan,” Bellara said, trying to sound as confident as possible using the word. Evabas’ face lit up immediately upon hearing the word, and Bellara swelled a little with pride at seeing their expression.

“Who taught you that?” Evabas was staring up at her with a look of wonder in their eyes. It made Bellara’s heart sing even more, to see Evabas believing her without doubting. They struggled so hard, after everything, to genuinely believe they were truly loved and accepted.

“Taash.”

“That makes sense. Did they tell you what it means?” Bellara nodded and chewed her lip a little.

“I… I want to call you something beautiful, something that means how much you matter. To me. To everyone else. To the world. You have my heart. You are not a thing.” Evabas’ hand clenched a little against her waist, and she wondered if she had said the wrong thing.

“My name does not bother me that much. Aritama may not have meant it out of affection, but she didn't mean it out of malice either. But… I really like hearing you call me kadan. Can you say it again?” Bellara relaxed at Evabas’ answer and nodded happily. She pushed up slightly, wriggling a bit in an ungainly fashion against Evabas’ side and leaned in close to their lips.

“I love you, kadan.” And then she kissed them, slow and sweet, like she had all the time in the world to do it. And she did. There was a whole new world with a whole new future for them to find, together.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Ennui - A Frau Short-fic

You were bored. But what else was new? Boredom seemed to be a constant state lately for you. You weren’t sure when exactly the ennui you’d been living side by side with had started, but it was keenly felt, almost a companion now. You really shouldn’t have been as bored as you were. After all, you were the daughter of a rich and prominent family, spoiled, given anything you could want. You went out and about, visiting friends and other members of the nobility. You took trips abroad. You were allowed to fill your life with hobbies and interests. There were always picnics, games, gatherings, and parties. But it all felt so humdrum…no, that wasn’t the word. It felt performative, like you were simply going through the motions of what was expected of you rather than finding any enjoyment in any of these things. You were simply going through the actions of life, doing what your parents expected of you, following along with the crowds of your peers and your friends, doing what they deemed acceptable and worthy of your time, even when you were bored or uninterested in it.

It’s why you found yourself here tonight, at this silly little masquerade ball. Your parents had been the ones to arrange it, though they claimed it was for your benefit and amusement. You knew better though. They had been putting more pressure on you than they normally did, harping a little more on the topic of you finding a suitable match and settling down to create a family of your town. The topic was one that was wholly uninteresting to you; in fact, it was a little unpleasant, if you were to be truthful with yourself, something you noticed you weren’t all that often. You felt no interest in settling into a marriage, especially not one that was simply done to benefit the families of the spouses, one entered into because it was advantageous rather than because of love. Besides, there’d been no one to really spark your interest, even before the ennui had set in. There’d been brief dalliances, here and there, sure. There’d been flirtations and playfulness before you’d settled with boredom being your companion. But none of those things had lasted for long – you grew attracted to someone, intrigued by the mystery of someone new, only to find out that the person was the same old thing that you were used to, parroting the same words you’d heard a million times, adhering to the rigid confines of the world you inhabited. You didn’t want that…you wanted something new, something different, something to shake up this safe world you inhabited. You wanted something a little dangerous.

You knew you should be thrilled. It should be fun to be all dressed up in a ballgown as you were, with a bejeweled mask on your face. It should be an interesting game to try to figure out who the other guests were under their masks. Yet none of it excited you. Besides, you’d always been almost unnaturally observant – you were able to figure out pretty quickly whom most of the guests were, masked or not. To be fair though, the upper crust social circles you belonged to were pretty small and it wasn’t that hard to guess, especially as you mingled among the crowds, snacked on delicacies with those by the food tables, accepted offers to dance from many different suitors. Yet you did all these things, even as they bored you, even though you didn’t want to. It was what was expected of you and you performed your duties as if you were a doll on strings.

It was about half-way through the night that you spotted him. The tall man, dressed all in black, a mask obscuring all but his pouty lips and chiseled jaw, his shirt open enough to show off a considerably pleasant physique, must have been a late arrival. You were sure you would have spotted him much earlier if he hadn’t been. He moved with almost effortless grace, though his gait was swaggering and relaxed and he commanded attention.

Him…now him you didn’t recognize. You searched your mind for any men you might know of his height and with that same untamed mop of blond hair but could find none, at least none that moved quite like he did. You kept your eyes on him as long as you could and, whenever your attention was diverted by someone else demanding that attention, you kept finding your eyes drifting towards him. The longer you observed him, watching him drink, eat, flirt with anything in a dress, the more you were sure that you didn’t know him. Yet somehow, every time you looked his way, the strangest feeling came over you. Deja-vu swept over you every time you looked his way, prickling along your spine. It intensified into an all-consuming feeling as, spun around by your current dance partner, you found yourself looking towards him again and staring straight into bright blue eyes that were watching you just as carefully. The feeling was something almost all-consuming, entirely sweeping away that dreadful ennui, and it took all your power to still play the good hostess. You wanted to dash up to him and demand answers. After all, you were quite sure you’d never met him before but at the same time, your brain niggled at you, demanding that you remember where you knew him from.

The dance couldn’t end quickly enough for you. It seemed an eternity before you were released from your partner’s grasp, muttering unmeant pleasantries, and begging off the offer of another dance, citing a need for something to drink. While you made your steps unhurried, your eyes were quick in darting around the room now, searching for the stranger. He was nowhere to be found though. You mingled, searched the room and the little chambers off of it where guests could sit and rest or have private conversations, trying to appear nonchalant, joining briefly in conversations whenever required. You found nothing. It was as if the stranger had disappeared just as quickly as he’d appeared.

You could feel cold anger dropping into your stomach but couldn’t quite figure out why. You really had no good reason to be this upset over a complete stranger. Still…you wanted so badly to find and talk to him and you were suddenly furious. The stupid man you’d been dancing with had taken up too much of your time, insisting you dance with him and then droning on about such boring things. Not that you were much better. You should have moved in on him earlier instead of watching. What a stupid thing you were.

Disgusted and infuriated, you suddenly held no desire to return to the party. You needed a moment away from it all and instead, exiting out a doorway off of one of the small, unoccupied rooms, you swept down a hallway and out into the cool night air on one of the balconies. You looked up at the night sky, collapsing against the railing with a huffing sigh, caught up entirely in your thoughts.

“Were you looking for me?”

The sudden voice from your left caused you to whip your head that way, your eyes widening as you found yourself gazing at him. The tall blonde man you’d been observing all night leaned nonchalantly against the balcony railing, smoke exhaled from between his full lips, a cigarette in his hand. His mask was still on but you met brilliant blue eyes behind the mask.

“You’ve been staring at me all night…don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he continued on, his lips curving into a smile that could only be described as sinful.

“I…” your breath caught and, embarrassed, you cleared your throat. When your voice came again, it sounded steady, confident. Much better. “Where do I know you from?”

The man seemed to be scrutinizing you, his eyes never leaving yours. It honestly made you feel a little uncomfortable, a little put on the spot, but you weren’t one to back away from something and you made yourself stare back, trying to study him just as intensely. You took a small step towards him but, even as close to him as you now were, you still couldn’t place him. You couldn’t figure out who he was but that feeling was still there, still heavy in your brain. You knew him. You just knew that the two of you had met somewhere, in some place and at some time that was escaping your memories.

“I wonder,” the man murmured, his steps confident as he came closer to you. They were deceptively quick and before you knew it, he was right beside you. It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye and you tilted your head back by instinct, looking up to stare at his face, trying to get a clue of who he was behind the mask.

“Take your mask off,” you commanded, without thinking. “So that I can see where we know each other from.”

“You first, princess,” the man said, the laughter that accompanied his words low, deep, and rumbling. It sent shivers pleasantly through your body that you didn’t want to admit to. You narrowed your eyes at him instead, your gaze and expression steely. While you were fine with giving orders, you’d never been fond of taking them (or of being laughed at) and you were opening your mouth to protest…or maybe just to tell him off, your mind already trying to formulate how to put it in societally polite terms instead of the obscenities that had popped into your mind at first.

“Or maybe you’d like my help.”

His teasing words came out before you’d even gotten the chance to speak and once again his quickness astounded you. He leaned over you, deep into your personal space, long fingers resting on the edges of your mask almost as he finished speaking. He paused though, his fingers lingering there, and you realized he was giving your half brought up hand time to knock his own away from your mask. He was waiting for permission, spoken or unspoken. You hesitated, your hand hovering where it was, not sure what entirely you wanted. This was not how you were used to doing things. At the end though, you let your hand drop, staring up into the stranger’s eyes, your curiosity as to where this would all lead too all encompassing.

Your body seemed to be on high alert. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of his fingers as they went from the edges of the mask, raking back through your hair. His hands were cool against your skin and you shivered by instinct, though you leaned into the contact. The feeling of déjà vu intensified…your body knew this touch. It knew the coldness and the gentleness of these fingers. You weren’t sure why you felt that, but you believed it whole-heartedly.

You could feel the ribbons holding your mask on loosen, tickling against your skin as they came undone and your own fingers reached up to catch the mask that you’d been wearing that evening. You lowered it, exposing your face to the cool night air. You could feel his fingers coming through your hair again, smoothing it, brushing tendrils of it away from your face. His fingers continued, cold against your skin, coming to trace down the curve of your cheek and down along your jawline and you stood, frozen in the moment, knowing that you should resist. After all, you still weren’t sure who this man was. Yet you couldn’t seem to stop yourself as you nuzzled closer into his fingers on your skin as they came to cup your chin, tilting your face up to look at his.

“Now there’s no way I could ever, in a million years, forget a face this beautiful…” the man breathed out, his face so close to your own as he studied you that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. You watched him carefully, noticing him shifting, leaning forward even closer. You were suddenly sure that he was going to kiss you and, without thinking, your eyes drifted closer, your face tilting towards his own, your lips slightly parted.

But the feeling of his mouth on yours never came. Instead, you felt your hair being brushed aside and then his breath, ghostly hotly over the curve of your ear. His whisper made your whole body tense, but in a way that felt strangely good and you squeezed your eyes shut even tighter.

“I’m Frau. Be a good girl and don’t forget it this time.”

And then, as suddenly as it had come, you could no longer feel his warmth against your skin. You suddenly felt nervous to open your eyes, your mind whirling, swimming with everything that had happened. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, buzzing with a thousand, no, a million different emotions and none of them boredom. You let your eyes open slowly, only to find yourself alone under the night sky. Even as you peered around the corner, dashed down the hallway, you knew it would be no good.

Frau….Frau….Frau.

The name was whispered, over and over, without you even realizing that you were doing it as you committed the name to your memory. Something deep within your soul told you you’d heard the name before and you vowed that you wouldn’t forget it this time. Especially since, and maybe it was merely your own wildly felt hope, it didn’t feel like you were done with the handsome man in black who’d come in and dashed away all your boredom.

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡  ｡✭･ﾟ

It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.

The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.

It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.

He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.

And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.

He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.

So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.

Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?

It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.

The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.

Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.

Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.

Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.

Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.

Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.

"What's up?"

He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.

"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.

normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.

maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.

but you finally find the courage to kiss him.

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

[clairiko]

i had a dream recently that wild used the four sword and its magic split him into his past, present and future selves 🤔 so ofc i had to draw this concept

[tempo-takoyaki]

"It would be my pleasure to give you a proper tour and introduce you to everyone."

Here is my full illustration for @svsssbigbang for the fanfiction Night at Cang Qiong Museum by @adventure-waffles! An incredible Night at the Museum x Scum Villain AU! Don't hesitate to also check out the other two artists incredible pieces for this fanfiction: dustmeadowx and qiye!

And since I know that tumblr tends to destroy the quality of my illustrations, here are some close-ups under the cut:

[reidiot]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude

[disgustingtwitches]

Kyle, that evil fucker, mirrors every reaction you make.

He's got your knees pushed back as far as they'll go, and as that gasp slips out of you, he's right there, copying it. He slides into you slow, whining just like you do, a smug chuckle slipping out while he presses his forehead to yours.

"Ah, ah-" His voice matches yours, mocking, his mouth twisting into a grin.

When you turn your head away, embarrassed, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his intense, brown eyes. He loves when you pout, his brow furrowing, mimicking your frustration with cruel precision.

"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" That grin stretches wide across his face when you shake your head desperately.

"No, no, no-" he mocks, voice high-pitched, laughing at the way you crumble under him.

But the second you clamp down on him in that way, he's all nods and hums, pleased, grinding into you until your legs shake. Then he's back at it, slamming into you again, panting just like you, throwing a mean laugh when you curse at him.

"Fuck me? Yeah, fuck me?" His voice is biting, playful, right before he sinks his teeth into your neck and pounds harder into the spot that makes everything go white.

He only gets serious when you're teetering on the edge. You're breathless, pleading, telling him exactly what you need, and he's listening, nodding like he's taking orders.

"Right here? Like that? C'mon, use your words."

And when you finally tip over, he's right there with you, pulling back just enough to mirror your face. Brows furrowed, jaw slack, breathless. Not to tease, but because the pleasure's consuming him too. Maybe even more.

//shout-out to @kyletogaz for the whole kyle mimicking thing that I haven't been able to get out of my head//

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

c/w: rafe being mean & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.   

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.    

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.    

“What are you doin’? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.   

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed. 

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” the muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.    

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”   

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps.  

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.    

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.    

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.   

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” he mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.    

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.   

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.   

“Shit, just needed somethin’ to suck on, huh?” he pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.    

“So fuckin’ pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anythin’ daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.    

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.    

“Feels nice to have somethin’ in your mouth, doesn’t it?” he ogles her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.    

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.    

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.    

“Daddy, need your...” her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth.  

“Can’t really hear you, baby,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.    

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.   

"What did you say?" his lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.    

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.    

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.    

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.   

“Don't think you could take dad’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.    

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.    

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, sweetheart,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.    

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants.  

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whinin’ about wantin’ me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” there’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.   

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.    

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.   

“What was that?” the line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.    

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” he grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.   

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her.  

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” he rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he’ll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves. 

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

won't you spare me another year ?

synopsis : you want to be the first person to wish your katsuki a happy birthday every year <3

an. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!

cw. nothing, pure fluff!!! also fem reader!

"5..4...3...2...1...aaaand—happy birthday, katsuki !!"

katsuki groans sleepily as your arms tighten around him. "you're fucking insane. it's midnight."

"it's your birthday !" you defend quietly, pouting up at him. he looks down at you and chuckles.

"ya could've just let me sleep and told me that shit in the morning, would've still been m'birthday." he yawns, wiping his eyes. you shoot up to press a kiss to his cheek, leaning into his space more to kiss him all over while he pretends to try and push you off when you roll on top of him. you both ignore how he immediately goes to squeezing your hips when you settle on top.

"i could've, but then there would've been a chance i slept in too long and then i wouldn't have been the first one to wish you happy birthday."

"so my birthday's a competition now ?"

"yup. and i plan to be first every year." you giggle, he rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile growing on his face.

"clingy brat.." he mumbles, he kisses you back anyways when your lips reach his.

"you love me." you counter.

"mm, whatever." he waves off, grabbing the back of your head to bring your lips back to his. you squeal as he tries to deepen the kiss. "you're being greedy." you warn, lips smushed against his.

"s'my birthday, means i get what i wan’, right ? and since you're gonna keep me awake, could at the very least gimme a proper damn kiss." he says between kisses, it makes you laugh against his mouth and he smiles. when you pull away, you lean in to press a long, lasting kiss on the scar right below his eye. you can feel the way the muscles in his face drop and his arms tighten around you in surprise.

"happy birthday, katsuki. i'm glad i can spend another year with you." you whisper earnestly, looking down at him like he'd hung up the moon and the stars for you. unfortunately, it seems that was too much sincerity for your poor boyfriend. he squints, his massive palms enveloping your face to squeeze your cheeks.

"y-yeah, yeah. quit bein' sappy..." he huffs. you feel his thumb run against your bottom lip when he glances up at you, ears tinted pink as he quietly whispers out a "thanks...".

you don't need to say anymore, smiling as you lay on his chest. you hum "what do you wanna do for your birthday ?"

"stay in and fuckin' sleep." is his simple response, you can't help but snort.

"and nothing else ?" you look up at him.

he looks down at you "sounds like you got something you're hiding from me." he asks, suspiciously raising a brow.

you scoff, looking away "pffff, me ? no way..."you lie, your voice going airy.

you’re being grabbed by your cheeks in an instant and katsuki’s not deterred by your whining "you're a shit liar."

"i plead the fifth."

"plead my ass." katsuki scoffs, squishing your cheeks in his palm. "i hate being out of the loop on shit, you know that."

"would it kill you to not be a killjoy ? where's your whimsy ? your child's soul ?" you whine.

"whatever the fuck that means." katsuki snarks. you laugh again, and he rolls his eyes. "as long as whatever you got planned doesn't take up my whole damn day, then do what you want."

now it's your turn to roll your eyes "no need to worry, i won't be interfering with your plans to sleep in."

"our plans. you're not going anywhere." your boyfriend corrects.

"i have no say in it, do i ?" you tease.

he pokes your cheek. "nope. s'my birthday." he responds simply.

you laugh "you're using that as some sort of cheat code now ?"

when your laughter dies down he's still looking down at you. eyes, droopy with sleep sure, but with something soft inside of them. they glow illuminated by the light of the moon outside.

"what ?"

"nuffin." he sighs, still just looking down at you. his fingers run across your face, your cheeks and eyebrows and nose so softly, so unlike him (he of course has to take the opportunity to squeeze your nose, but you decide not to ruin the moment).

"yeah, right. c'mon what is it?" you urge. katsuki scoffs "so damn persistent." he reprimands. he shushes you when you remind him that "that's why you like me so much!"

"m'just..thinkin'."

"about..?" you wiggle higher up until you can kiss his chin. he sighs again , smiling to himself.

"about...this really annoying girl."

you glare up at him, he smirks. "oh yeah ?" you deadpan.

"oh, yeah. a real pain in the ass. always talkin' back to me and bothering me. planning surprises and other stupid things for my birthday every year. " he taunts.

you roll your eyes again "she sounds like a fun time. sounds to me like you just don't know how to have any fun." you grouch. katsuki laughs, of course he does, dickhead.

"yeah, well. as annoying as she is...she is a pretty damn fun time." he admits softly "real damn sweet too...probably too sweet for me.."

you look up at him in surprise. he squeezes your nose to avoid you and you swipe at his hand. he continues talking while you're distracted. "but i'm glad she chose to be with an asshole like me, and..." he leans down to press a peck between your brows.

"..and there's nothing else i'd like more for my birthday then to spend it with her again next year. even if we do lame, boring shit like staying in or doing whatever."

you feel your heart squeeze almost painfully tight. your cheeks pull up so hard you feel your jaw hurt, but you're so unbearably happy.

so unbearably happy you get to spend another year of his life with him.

you lean in to kiss him. "well, i don't know about her surprises, but mine's gonna blow your socks off. s'gonna make you cry like you did last year."

he scoffs, planting another kiss to your lips. "i didn't cry, dickwad. that's your mind making shit up." he denies.

"yeah, okay" you laugh, and with one final kiss you pull back to look at your love, with all the love you had for him. "happy birthday, katsuki."

and he smiles back, softly, and only reserved for moments like this with you.

yeah, it sure was. happy fuckin' birthday to him.

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[ciaossu-imagines]

“You’re running late again,” Castor said, his harsh words softened by his gentle, chiding tone and the smile he directed at you as you ran up to the usual meeting spot. When you’d first met Castor in your first year Physiology and Anatomy class, you’d found him a little intimidating. Hell, you’d been finding most people intimidating. It had been a huge change for you, going from your small town, tiny high school into living in the city, attending this large, sprawling, crowded university. You’d wanted so desperately to make the most out of your college years, to gain this group of friends, to have fun and let loose, but you were shy and the thought of approaching people randomly to gain those friend’s you’d wanted merely gave you anxiety. That wasn’t a worry when it came to Castor, who’d started talking to you first. While it had been awkward, he’d kept at it and pretty soon, the two of you had become inseparable. He’d introduced you to his own small circle of friends, all of whom had taken you in with open arms and your dreams of a happy college life were made. Even now, well into your second years, with all of you majoring in different things, you still always met up Castor, Frau, and Labrador every morning to have breakfast together before each of you got busy with your days.

“Sorry! Overslept my alarm again,” you panted out, a little winded by the long run you’d had from your dorm room to the dining hall. You rubbed at a stitch in your side, swearing to yourself (not for the first time) that more cardio was going to be fit into your exercise routine.

“Ha! Heard that one before,” Frau laughed and you glared up at him.

“Are you trying to imply something?”

“Only that you’re always late,” Frau said, grinning as your glare intensified. You felt the weight of his hand as he plopped it on your head, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Don’t worry. You’re so cute that I’ll forgive you.”

“Hey! I’m not the only one who’s late,” you tried to defend yourself as you did your best to duck away from Frau’s hand. He kept swiping at you, ruffling your hair more each time he caught you, and you poked at him, catching him in the ribs a couple times, the two of you laughing and dancing around each other playfully.

“No, you’re right. You’re not the only one who’s late often,” Castor agreed, grinning as he watched the two of you.

“Exactly! Lab’s late just as much as I am! He’s even later than me today…where is he, anyway?” you asked, trying to look casual as you took your attention away from Frau, scanning the campus and the crowds around you. You didn’t want to look as eager as you felt to see Labrador, after all. The feelings had been pretty steady for a while now. You just couldn’t seem to help it – the second you saw him, your day just seemed to brighten. Spending time with him relaxed you, made everything better. You found yourself noticing just how beautiful he was, staring at him when he wasn’t likely to notice, drinking in and trying to memorize the sight of his face in all its variations. He was one of the first things you thought of when you woke up and one of the last things you thought of before you went to sleep. In short? You had it bad and you knew it. Still though, you also knew that you weren’t quite ready to risk the friendship you had with him and you definitely weren’t ready to expose your crush to your two other best friends. You knew you’d never hear the end of the teasing and sly remarks, from either of them, if you did so.

Too bad you were a lot more transparent than you thought.

“What, excited to see your boyfriend?” Frau crooned out, slinging his arm over your shoulder. You jumped a little, both from his words and from the unexpected actions. You could feel your ears starting to burn, the unmistakable sign of a blush forming on your face and you cursed your reaction.

“What are you talking about?!” you protested, elbowing Frau in the side, earning a light ‘oof’ from him as he backed away from you. “I’m not…we’re not anything like that!”

“Oh? My mistake then,” Frau said, laughing, and your face only got hotter as you noticed Castor covering his own light laughter with his hand.

“You two are the worst!” you protested, pouting as you looked away from the both of them, returning to scanning the crowd. “Don’t go making up silly stories between the two of you. I was just wondering what was keeping him so long. I mean, he’s normally late, but he typically gets here around the same time as me.”

“You’re right,” Castor said, checking the time on his phone. “He’s not normally this late. I’ve texted him, but I haven’t heard anything back.”

“Want me to call him?” Frau offered, pulling out his own phone.

“I’ve tried that already. It just goes straight to voicemail.”

You sighed, shaking your head with a light smile. “It’s Lab. He’s always forgetting to charge his phone. It’s probably deader than a doornail and he hasn’t realized it yet.”

“I’m starving, though,” Frau said, his hand going to his stomach, which was growling its whole-hearted support of his words. “Why don’t we just get breakfast without him?”

“No!” Shocked by the loudness of your objection, you looked down at the ground, clearing your throat before saying, in a much calmer, quieter tone. “I mean…”

“It just wouldn’t feel right,” Castor agreed as you trailed off into silence.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can’t go too much longer without food,” Frau complained, scowling. “If he’s not here soon, I’m liable to end up eating him when he does show up.”

“Charming image, that,” Castor said, shaking his head towards his friend. “Why don’t we go look for him then. There’s only a few places that he really spends a lot of time at, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.”

Both you and Frau nodded your agreement. The plan made sense and Castor had a good point. If Labrador wasn’t with you guys, he was either in his dorm room, in the school’s greenhouse, in classes, or out on the campuses main lawn. There was a tree there that, for some reason you’d never quite understood, Labrador had really seemed to take to and bond with.

“It’ll be quicker if we all split up though, don’t you think? I mean, all our phones are charged, right? We can text each other when we find Lab and we’ll all head back here.”

“Aww, are you that eager to get rid of us? I mean, if you want alone time with Lab that much, all you need to do is ask,” Frau teased, smirking down at you. He really was on a roll today, wasn’t he?

“Shut up.”

“You’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed like that. Don’t worry, I’m sure Lab wants to spend just as much time alone with you.”

“Shut up!”

“What’s that saying? Oh, I know, the lady doth protest too much.”

“Shut up or I’ll make you!”

“I’d like to see you try, shrimp!”

“Now, now, children,” Castor chided, smiling as he swatted the two of you upside the heads. “Frau, stop teasing. They’re right – it would be a lot quicker if we split up.”

“Thank you!” you beamed as Castor validated you, sticking your tongue out at Frau in a childish move.

“Oh, and Frau’s right, you know. I’m sure that Lab would be happy to spend quality alone time with you, too.”

“See! Frau’s right!” Frau crowed out, raising his arms in a little victory dance. After all, those were not often words that Castor said. “In your face.”

You groaned, shaking your head at Castor. “Not you too…besides, now look what you did. I don’t want to hear any more of this. I’m checking out the main lawn, you guys head wherever.” The last part of your sentence was shouted out as, for the second time that day, you took off running across the campus. At least this wasn’t as far a run, you told yourself…but still, definitely more cardio in your future, yep.

You kept your eyes peeled, scanning not only the people milling around you but also the people sitting on the benches or loitering and relaxing on the lush green lawn. It felt like forever without any sight of him, now matter how many times you looked. It was as you stopped to pull out your cellphone, wondering if there was a missed message, that your eyes got sight of something silvery-purple past a large cluster of people playing hacky-sack, the colour instantly recognizable and oh so wonderfully familiar.

It took only minutes for you to make your way across the lawn, skirting around the hacky sackers with a wide margin. You’d been stupid enough to get too close to them a couple times before, always ending up nailed with the bean-bag, and you weren’t about to repeat that mistake. Once you finally arrived to where you’d seen that glimpse of colour, for a minute you just stood there, gazing down. Trying to quiet your breath, your lips parted and curved into a gentle smile, your eyes soft as you looked down on the calmly sleeping form of Labrador under his favourite tree. His long lashes rested on the curves of his face, locks of his silvery-purple hair falling around his face, tucked haphazardly behind his ears. He looked so young like this, so angelic and peaceful and you felt your heart skip a beat. You wanted so badly to just curl up beside him, to keep watch over him as he slept, to allow yourself to drink in this sight for as long as you could. You knew you couldn’t though…not only would it not be proper, but it was fall weather now and while the day was reasonably warm, it was still much too chilly for the light long-sleeved t-shirt that Labrador had on. Sighing, trying to write the sight into your heart, you crouched down on your knees in the grass beside him, a hand tentatively going to his shoulder, gently shaking him.

“Labrador…Lab…come on, time to wake up,” you said softly.

It took a moment before, blinking groggily, his eyelids fluttering, you were staring into those deep purple eyes of his, eyes that to you seemed to be holding all the emotion in the world, eyes that always made him look far older than he was.

“Silly boy…you shouldn’t be sleeping out here in the cold, you know.”

Labrador mumbled something and you leaned in a little closer.

“What was that? I’m sorry, couldn’t hear you.”

“I had a dream about you,” Labrador repeated, his voice sleepy and lazy, a tender smile on his face as he looked up at you. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening a little as you stared back at him, unsure of what to say or how to react. You knew you were blushing, but there was no way to stop it. Time felt it stopped while the two of you just looked at each other, but it was no more than a few moments before you nervously cleared your throat, averting your gaze as you stood up.

“I hope it was a good dream then.”

“It was,” his voice was soft, with something in it that you’d never quite heard in his voice before. You didn’t have time to try to wonder what it was though as, in the next moment, you felt his hand reach up and grab yours. His hand was cold, larger than you expected, but so soft overtop of your own and, without thinking, you grasped it back.

“Oh…oh…” you stammered out, “did you need help getting up or something?”

“No,” Labrador said, pulling himself into a sitting position and then up to stand beside you, wavering a little as pins and needles went through his chilled legs. “You’re just really warm. I like it.”

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐣𝐚𝐰

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Wc: 2k

Summary: A frustration fueled Joel comes back from scouting with a very prominent issue.

Warnings: PORN NO PLOT. Teasing, thigh riding, throat-fucking, oral m!receiving, Joel calls himself daddy (my bad 😵‍💫), pussy & dick pronouns my absolute love.

AN: this was all written within the span of an hour so my bad, this is what ovulation does to a bitch.

Home alone. For three whole hours.

Joel went out scouting.

Your eyes that whole time had been staring holes into the floral wallpaper of the flat, without much to do -or, more realistically without the man you’ve been thinking about doing all fuckin’ day. It was a draining experience. Your fingernails peeling up the flesh of your thighs as you sunk further, deeper into his living room couch. It smelled like him. The musky scent he wore all seeped into the upholster.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking once he had inserted the key made your ears perk, hours of listening to your own heartbeat the time you weren’t desperately trying to stimulate your accumulating thoughts about him. The touch, the feeling of his body that you’ve only felt one whole time in which you had never gotten it off your brain. Thick fingers running along the puffy, sopped folds of your pussy, stretching you. Running his free, spit slicked palm over and all the way down his cock to get himself ready. The feeling of his girth forcing into your hole.

You’d never forget.

The door would creak open before you locked onto him. A thick hand wrapped around one of the straps of his supply bag before he dropped it onto the ground next to the door, a long exasperated sigh escaping past his parted lips. Running thick fingers through the greying curls on his head.

“Fuck.”

Cursing, Joel would walk past you and to the kitchen, opening the first cupboard which to his luck had some booze in it. A stale, half empty bottle of said booze. Popping the cap off, taking a swig.

Finding it difficult to look away while the man did something as simple as drink, the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as the bready liquid moved down the pharynx.

Satisfied from the liquid quenching his thirst he walked back over to the couch, sitting down directly next to you, his thigh touching yours. Hadn’t been able to notice earlier whether it was the angle or how fast he walked through the house, his cock was writhing tightly against his jeans. Sunrays shone through the windows, curtains open. Yellow hued light outlining the bulge. Clearly he had been like this for a while. His worn palms running down his face.

Your lips parted, tongue tied by the sight. It was a test, surely.

With little-to-none resistance your hand reached out to place on his thigh, one of your fingers would stretch to touch the curve sticking out in his jeans, the pad of your index hardly applying any pressure before tracing his dick, watching it jump before you felt Joel’s hand grab your wrist.

“All day- All fuckin’ mornin’, baby.”

Fingers twisting over the skin on your arm, another twitch from his cock would draw in your attention. He’s been waiting.

“You didn’t have to come all the way back here. You have a hand.”

Stating as if there wasn’t a pool of your own slick in the middle of the lace underwear you had only dug through your drawer to find earlier in the day. On your mind all day was this very moment, you had been counting every tick from the clock as you waited for him to walk into the room and fuck your face.

“I swear to fuckin’—“

His legs spread open over the cushion, tapping his boot against the hardwood. Impatient.

To reiterate again, waiting all fucking day. Now with you here the thought of waiting another second had him struggling. Wearing loose boyshorts around your hips as you sat there he’d lean over you, hooking his finger to the hem before yanking them off those pretty legs. A palm he had placed on your low stomach now sliding til his hand was underneath the white, lace panties he oh-so-loved. His tall finger slipped past your clit, into your swollen slit. You’d mewl.

Soaked.

“Knew it.”

He yanked you onto his thigh, moving his hand down to your ass, squeezing, fat spilling between his fingers. Luckily his second hand had been lazily resting at his side now had a purpose, up your back and to the back of your head to hold onto your hair. His lips slamming into yours. No mercy behind the kiss.

Your hips began rolling at a quick pace, your cunt slowly coming un-covered with every thrust down into his jean clad thigh. His tall finger finding his way back to your hole beneath your underwear, tracing it with his thick digit. Pulling his lips back from yours with a wet smack.

“She’s fuckin’ droolin’.”

He’d drawl, to no avail you’d try to force that finger into you by a buck of your hips downward. Thus, he’d withdraw. A reward game, you’ll earn his fingers later.

One more long grind down into his thigh that’d surely serve you a friction burn later and you were off his leg. Dropping onto your knees in front of his lap. You’d swear you’ve only dreamt of being in a position like this. Your smaller hands started at his calves before resting on his thighs. His coffee eyes staring into yours.

He wouldn’t waste precious time now, unbuckling his belt to toss it away. Unzipping his jeans to shove them to his upper thighs, the last article of suffrage being his boxers, a dark wet spot painfully obvious on the grey cotton. He’d tug on the elastic that rimmed the top before tugging his briefs to his upper thighs, with the quick pull his cock sprung up slapping against his tummy.

His shaft was turning red. Tip pulsating. His thumb ran down to spread the bead of precum over him, laminating the dark pink bulb til’ it looked like glass. A flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“Stick your tongue out.” He’d just barely manage to groan.

Control now gained with his fingers wrapped around his base. Your knees now hitting the base of the couch, it was as close as you could get. Obeying the commands you opened your mouth, your pink, saliva slicken tongue sticking out.

His cock slapped against your tongue, driving it into your wet hole with his free hand as his other worked into your hair, his fingers forming an O around your thick locks as a makeshift hair tie. Though, you’d find this was better.

He was fuckin’ big. Even taking him into your pussy didn’t do him justice, only truly able to fit him halfway into your small mouth.

It wouldn’t be enough for him.

His hips would buck forward, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat. Involuntarily your throat would clench - teetering the lines of a gag and a spasm of your muscles. Though, your eyes began to gloss over.

The knot in your pelvis tightened while Joel craned his neck back against the back of the couch letting out a long, rough groan. Such a tough girl, he’d figure a few good thrusts wouldn’t be the thing that’d ruin you.

Another buck of his hips sent a wrack through his body, fucking his thick cock into your throat. Your drool dribbling down his shaft. Your eyes hadn’t unlocked with his own ‘less they were going to roll back into your skull with every hit to the very back of your tongue. A moan bubbled up from your tightened throat, vibrating up the thick length of his dick. You could taste how his vein would throb and pulsate against your cheek. No doubt he was close.

With your mouth managing to take every. Last. Inch. Of him so deeply. There was no way he could last.

Your own thighs would clench together as your eyes finally took a break from straining upwards to now clenching shut. Your juices collecting all in the middle of your panties. Your clit throbbing excruciatingly hard. You knew better than to touch yourself. Focusing and giving your body up to the task at hand.

Joel’s breaths turning into deep pants. His balls tightening, drawing up. Though he had a better idea than just cumming straight on the spot despite that just being the thing he’s been pining for all fucking day. Tugging on the hair falling between his fist he pulled your head back, his cock extruding from your mouth with an audible, wet ‘pop!’ sound. Glossy eyes gazed into his as his flickered down to his cock, jumping straight up once released from your mouth one big mess of his precum mixing with your salivation.

“Makin’ such a mess of him, huh?” He’d grunt. Completely gawked by the sight. “Such a fuckin’ mess of daddy’s cock.”

You could’ve sworn this man was giving your pussy a heartbeat.

Before you could give any sort of catty response his cock was shoved back into your mouth, giving you no time to readjust, to get used to the feeling of his burning tip knocking at the back of your throat. Managing by the grace of God to stowaway your gag reflex seemingly just for the evening. His pace slowing, beginning to get sloppy quicker. You’d have a lot to say if you didn’t have a mouthful. Though, deep down you knew that your unhealthily cock-drunk brain would be unable to formulate a coherent sentence. One with both sense and grace.

“Just. Like. That.” He punctuated.

Thrusting deeper til your nose was bobbing up and down against his pelvis. Nuzzling into the scent that came within the dense thicket of greying, wiry hairs. All curled around and crowing his base. You felt the thick vein that traveled all the way down the girth of his dick pulsate against your overstuffed cheek. A whine from you would only shake up his shaft. His tummy tightening up, hips spasming. Another violent thrust to the back of your tongue those built up tears to freely fall down your cheeks.

Again.

Sliding his cock from your lips to shove it back in again. Every time taking the split second to admire all that drool dripping down the line of his strained cock.

“Fuck! Baby—“ Absolutely strained.

He’d throw his head back, bumping it against the back of the couch as he let out a long, throaty moan. He pulled out of your mouth, the overused motion you’ve grown so very accustomed to, though this time your tongue stayed out, perfectly so as he was able to paint the pink muscle with hot, thick ropes of cum. Pumping his fist over his cock as ropes of semem shoot down your tongue and straight to the back of your throat. Painting his own perfect masterpiece on the fleshy canvas of your mouth.

Swallowing every last droplet as if it were liquid gold.

His stomach rose and fell heavily with each breath, his hand reached out to grab your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your glossy bottom lip. Every. Last. Drop. Though, he just had to make sure.

“That’s what I like to see, babygirl.” He’d praise. Lazily tugging up his boxers so he could conceal his freshly mouth-fucked cock, concealing with another layer courtesy of his unzipped jeans. Sure, you finished him the fuck off but that didn’t mean he was gonna soften up anytime soon.

You’d just hardly make it back onto your trembling legs as you looked at him, panties slid to the side from unconsciously grinding against the cold, wooden floors. A droplet of that warm, glue-like slick trickling down your inner thigh once you stood up. Joel’s eyes followed the stray tear.

“Goddamn, baby. Lemme take care of that for you.”

That’s what you like to hear.

Standing up from the couch with a long grunt he’d lift you off of your feet, carrying you straight to his bed. Soon enough he’d be two knuckles deep into your aching pussy, giving you all that sweet pleasure you so deserved after earning it so fuckin’ well.

[rafeyscumangel]

could you do a best friends with benefits with complete opposite reader as rafe!! like reader is innocent and really soft

༊·˚ Thinking about Rafe teaching his innocent and soft fwb how to deepthroat…

cw: 18+!, mdni, blowjob, deepthroatish, corruption kink, innocent and soft reader, finger sucking, deepthroating with fingers..?, training gag reflex away, softdom!Rafe but also pervy as fuck rafe !!

a/n: took me so long to get this but i hope you like it luv 💞 also didn’t know if you wanted smut or not so bare with me :,) I haven’t written for obx in a hot minute so it might be kinda shitty. I didn’t know if you wanted smut or not but i hope you enjoy either way :)

Rafe had such a infatuation with you. You were so… innocent and soft, unlike him. It shocked everyone on kildare who found out the two of you were best friends.

Unlike Rafe, you were 100% clean. No drugs and no drinking. When someone was in a conversation with you and they’d make a dirty joke, you’d just tilt your head to the side slightly and get that adorable, puzzled expression on your face while your mind worked overtime to try and decipher the meaning- and when you did, you’d blush a deep shade of red in embarrassment and shrink into yourself. Letting out a chuckle of embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with the other and mumbling a quick and dismissive response before quickly changing the subject.

Also unlike Rafe, you weren’t aggressive. You were a complete softy. Baking… sewing… gardening… the stereotypical soft girl.

Rafe remembers one day in particular- you came with the Camerons to a strawberry patch at Wheezie’s constant begging. Settling to wear a short, tighter sun dress that was decorated in pastel baby blue and white stripes. Your outfit accessorized with a straw sun hat and pearl necklace. You looked fucking flawless while the sun beat down on you. Your movements graceful and feminine while you skipped around and picked strawberries with Wheezie, every time you bent the hem of your skirt would trail up the curve of your ass in a teasing manner. Just giving him enough to imagine the rest.

And that’s what finally made Rafe lose control: He decided that day that he would have you and there was no way he would settle without. Hence what caused you guys to shift from best friends to best friends with benefits.

Rafe felt a pinch of shame at his actions, completely defiling you of your innocence with some of the things he would do. But fuck, even the thought has his cock twitching in your mouth. The way you’d look up at with your wide, damp doe eyes that were a mix of awe, trust and lustful curiosity. It made him feel secure and wanted. As bad as it may sound: he loved ruining you.

“Shit.. s’o good at this sweetheart..” Rafe drawled out, eyes screwed shut, head leaning forcefully against the brick wall of the public washroom the two of you were hid out in. Your mouth suctioned around his cock and hair bopped up and down with your movements as you desperately tried to make Rafe feel good. Your eyes looking up at him with awe, soaking in his groans ‘n moans of pleasure which made your panties soak in your own arousal even more than they already were.

Rafe’s hand rested atop your head, resisting the urge to force you down while he bit his lip. His cock twitching in your mouth as he imaged the sight and sounds of you gagging around his cock, which you could only take half way.

Rafe craned his head back down, biting his lip at your damp eyes. “Think you could take anymore?” He asked, smirking slightly, knowing damn well that you couldn’t.

You whined around his cock, shaking your head ‘no’ before coming up from his cock with a wet ‘pop’. “‘M trying.” You pout, scared you weren’t doing well enough for him.

Rafe’s heart clenched in his chest at the sight of your teary eyes. Bringing his hand up to rub soothing circles on your cheek which were damp from the amount of times you gagged, causing tears to fall. “I know sweetheart don’t worry.” He murmured, small grin forming on his face as he felt the way you subconsciously leaned into his touch. God you seemed so obedient for him(and were). “We’re gonna train that gag reflex away, k pretty girl?” He said, cocking his head to the side slightly to analyze and make sure you’re completely ok with this. His thumb slowly trailing to and brushing against your lower lip.

“Ok..” You nod, opening your mouth just enough to let him hook his thumb into your mouth, the digit immediately pressing down against your tongue.

“Open wider baby,” He said softly, though his tone still had an undeniable amount of dominance. Feeling a swell of pride in his chest at your simple obedience. “Like you’re at the dentist.” He teased.

You did as was told of you, opening your mouth wide for him. “Good girl.” He smirked wider. His ring and middle finger entering your mouth. You moaned around the intrusion that was his fingers, eye’s furrowing slightly when he shoved his fingers further into your mouth and pressed down against your tongue, soft gags spilling up from your throat and out of your mouth.

“C’mon.. how do you expect to take my full cock down your throat if you can’t even take my fingers?” He chuckled, his fingers slowly making way further down your throat. His cock twitching as he watched your face flush in embarrassment at his lewd words. His next words strained with arousal. “Gotta practice a bit at a time princess, you can do it.”

God. The way he spoke so soft but still dominant. The nicknames. The softness in his touch. It had your mind reeling with dirty thoughts no one should be having of their ‘best friend’ and your pussy clenching around nothing. You nodded your head slowly, wide damp eyes looking up at the man, admiring how hot and affected he looked by you.

Suddenly, a sharper and louder gag fell from your lips. Your head attempting to jerk away from Rafes fingers when he forces them practically as far down your throat as they physically could. Rafes grip just tightened on your chin, the thumb of his free hand rubbing soft circles on the skin of your jaw while a few tears fell from your eyes.

“Nah uh.” Rafe clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, finally pulling his fingers back after a couple of seconds. Attempting to ignore how badly he wanted to feel you gag around his cock.

“You can do it, just try not to jerk away, k?” He murmurs. A soft whine escaping your lips as his fingers descent back down your throat at a faster pace. But you manage to give a small nod in response, pushing your thighs together as his fingers constricted your breathing.

A content grin made its way to Rafe’s lip. Free hand moving up to pat your cheek. “Good.” He praised. His fingers practically finger fucking your throat. Occasionally pressing down on the back of your tongue just to feel you slobber and gag around his digits even more, imagining that it was around his cock.

You slowly became more and more used to the sensation, body relaxing into his touch as your body rested against his legs, hands holding his knees as you let him use your mouth in what would typically be considered a degrading way. Yet Rafe still managed to make it feel anything but degrading while his fingers were down your throat.

A shaky breath left Rafe’s lips as he fully pulled his fingers out from your mouth. Smirk gracing his features yet again as he admired his slick-with-your-spit fingers. Resisting the urge to seem like too much of a freak and licking your excess spit off from his fingers. Instead deciding to use your spit as some type of lube for his cock, spreading your saliva around his pretty much neglected for the last few minutes cock. Soft groan falling from his lips as he did so.

He glanced back at you, face flushing as he saw how you eyed his cock with undeniable, somewhat innocent(as much as it can be) desire. Bringing his cock to your lips and smearing his tip, covered in your saliva, over your lips. “Ready to take a bit more of my cock yet princess?”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

Rafe taglist; @rafestoothbrush