#sorry i’m high and can’t stop laughing

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[urmum-lovesme]

Dad!Rafe and baby Cameron's first laugh...

The big couch in the living room of Tannyhill had become their favourite spot for family time. Their baby girl was stretched out on the soft cushions, kicking her legs happily, her tiny fists waving in the air. Y/n lay on one side of her, propped up on her elbow, her head resting in her hand as she gently wiggled the baby’s foot around in the air playfully, capturing her daughter's attention. Rafe was on the other side, lying on his side with his head resting on his palm, watching his two girls with an easy grin. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting golden streaks across the room, and the sound of soft baby coos filled the air.

“She’s been kicking like crazy today,” Y/n murmured, her fingers gently brushing over the baby’s tummy. 

“I think she’s practising for her first marathon.”

“What do you mean? She’s gonna be a soccer player like her daddy.”

Rafe chuckled, reaching out to gently poke the baby’s round cheek. Y/n rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. 

“A soccer player? Have you even played since high school?”

“My girl’s got natural talent.”

Rafe rolled his eyes at Y/n playfully before he shot back confidently. The baby let out a tiny, high-pitched squeal, earning both their attention, “She’s clearly disagreeing with you,” Y/n teased, brushing her fingers over the baby’s hand.

Rafe looked down at his daughter with a mock frown as he spoke out, “Oh, yeah?” 

She stared up at him with wide, curious eyes, her little lips forming a tiny ‘o’ as she took in his every move. “Patience, babe. She’s warming up,” Rafe replied, undeterred. He gently lifted their baby’s shirt to expose her soft, round tummy, he leaned forward and rubbed his nose gently against the baby’s belly and blew a loud raspberry. The sound echoed through the room, and while the baby squirmed in surprise, her face remained stubbornly neutral. Y/n giggled, giving him a playful nudge. 

“Guess she’s not impressed by your moves, Rafe.”

“Oh, come on,” Rafe said, feigning offence as he straightened up. “She was totally holding it in, weren't you babygirl? She’s just making daddy work for it.”

“Let me try,” Y/n said, wiggling her fingers toward the baby’s ribs. She leaned in close, her voice soft and sweet as she cooed, “Are you going to laugh for mommy, huh? Are you? Let me see that smile!” She tickled her side gently, but the baby only blinked up at her, lips forming a tiny pout.

Rafe laughed out, “Tough crowd.”

“I don’t know where she gets it from,” Y/n said sarcastically, pretending to glare at him, though the smile on her lips gave her away.

“Alright, tag team it is” 

Rafe declared, leaning in again. The two of them spent the next few minutes trying every trick they could think of- more raspberries, silly faces, exaggerated voices. Every time they thought they were close, the baby would let out a little squeal or a happy coo but stopped short of a full-on laugh. Finally, Rafe flopped back against the couch with an exaggerated groan. 

“She’s making us look bad, babe. We can’t even get our own kid to laugh.”

“She’s just making sure we’re entertained, that’s all, isn't it sweet girl?” 

Y/n hummed softly, leaning down closer to their daughter, her face just inches from the baby’s. She cooed, pressing a tender kiss to the baby’s soft cheek. The baby blinked up at her, a tiny smile tugging at her lips but still no laugh. Y/n smiled at the little almost-grin and pulled back a bit too quickly, not realising Rafe had leaned forward at the same time. The back of her head bumped directly into his face with a light but sudden thud.

“Ah—!” Rafe grunted, leaning back as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand. “Babe, what the—?”

“Oh my god!” Y/n whipped around hand coming up to cover her mouth, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Rafe waved her off, though his nose scrunched slightly. The baby, who had been watching them intently, suddenly let out the sweetest, tiniest string of giggles. Both of them froze and looked down at her in surprise.

“No way,” Rafe said, his hand dropping from his nose as a grin spread across his face.

“That’s what it takes, seriously?”

Y/n blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as the baby let out another bubbly little laugh. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered, her voice soft with wonder. 

“Her first laugh…”

“And it’s at my expense,” Rafe added, though he didn’t look the least bit annoyed. Instead, he leaned back down, his nose almost brushing the baby’s. 

“You think that’s funny, huh, little lady?”

The baby cooed in response, her tiny laugh bubbling up again, and Y/n joined in, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to stop her own giggles. He grinned, leaning down to kiss the baby’s forehead. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The baby cooed in response, letting out another delighted laugh, and Y/n shook her head fondly, a hum passing her lips again. Rafe smirked, pulling Y/n closer with his free arm.

 “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up both of you.”

Y/n rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on their baby. "You know, if her laugh already makes me this happy, we’re in trouble when she starts talking."

Rafe chuckled, his hand lightly brushing Y/n’s arm as he said, "When she calls me ‘dada’ first, I’ll try not to rub it in too much, alright?"

Y/n smirked, tilting her head up at him. “Oh, she’s definitely saying ‘mama’ first. I’ll make sure of it.”

Their daughter’s bubbly giggle filled the room again, almost as if she understood their playful exchange. Rafe’s gaze drifted playfully to the girl next to him as he leaned in towards Y/n, his lips meeting hers in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hand gently cradled her jaw, thumb brushing tenderly across her cheek. When they pulled back, his lips curved into a teasing smirk, his voice dropping to a low murmur, 

“We’ll see about that, mama…”

They make me want to cry 😭

[jaegahh]

plsss make mikasa headcannons 🙏🙏👨‍🍼🤾‍♂️🗑️

GIRLFRIEND MIKASA HEADCANONS ᯓᡣ𐭩

content: sfw, female! Reader, fluff, bit of smoking mentioned <3

Mikasa’s strong. Like, really, really strong. She’s effortlessly able to pick you up. The ease of doing so always leads to her swooping you up in her arms when you’re too tired to walk up the stairs of your shared loft. She adores how soft you look in her arms.

Mika’s obsessed with your cooking. OBSESSED. Coming home to a warm plate of food you fixed for her after a long hour at the gym is like coming home to heaven. She’ll definitely make sure you know it, too.

Also because she can’t cook to save her life.

She’s definitely the type to be up at the ass crack of dawn. I’m talking 5:30 am, going on a morning jog, heading to the gym, working on something hands-on.. or sometimes just for the sake of being up. She always makes sure to give you a kiss before she leaves, of course.

Her phone is filled with pictures of you. All 1,209 of ‘em. Her lock screen is her favorite one, where you’re smiling and so beautiful in the pretty beach dress you wore when she first asked to be your girlfriend. It was your senior year of high school, and ever since then you two have been inseparable.

You’ll say something about a new TikTok challenge or a new meme you found while scrolling on Instagram and she’ll nod at you without a clue. She’s a bit behind on pop culture references and things like that :(.. Probably because she’s always off doing something productive.

She’s big on games— especially storymodes, though she doesn’t mind the occasional online multiplayer ones. Any free time she’s got is gonna be spent on her PC playing video games. Usually Red Dead Redemption 2, The Last of Us, Life is Strange.. sometimes Fortnite (she’s definitely a chapter 1 season 1 player don’t play w herr). Every once in a while she’ll force you to play something together. Scary games in particular. God, she loves making you play horror games.

“Im scared! Miki where did that thing go? It was just—,” suddenly, the monster jump-scares you and you’re screaming— almost falling off your girlfriend’s chair. You stare at the screen with a pounding heart and furrowed eyebrows, noting the ‘respawn’ button as you were killed for the millionth time now. You huff in frustration.

“Bye! I am not playing this game no more.” You turn to face Mikasa, when you see her laughing.

You cross your arms. “What’s so funny!?” Mika tries to stop giggling, but the cheeky pout on your face only makes her laugh even harder.

“‘M sorry, you’re just too cute. We can play that roblox game now if you want.” Mikasa giggles, as she exits off the game for you. Pressing a sweet peck to your nape, she gestures for you to flip your position on her lap. Now straddling her waist, you sigh with relief as she rubs soft circles onto your back, thankful that horror is over.

With a calmer heart, you turn to log into your account on the computer. “Let’s play Dress to Impress?”

Giving your cheek a little kiss, she whispers, “Whatever you want, baby.”

She’s very easily flustered. You would tell her she looks pretty and she’s already turning red. It’s adorable how bashful she gets 😭

She’s very, very, veryyy protective. Sometimes even too much. Always has you plastered to her, with an arm around your waist or a possessive hand around your hip. She never leaves you out of sight, even if its a quick grocery run or a shopping day at the mall— you’ll be right in front of her, and she’ll be right behind you. She always has a glowering look on her face, and if her overwhelming body language didn’t scare away lingering stares, then the threatening look on her face sure did. She’d never want anything to happen to her precious girl :(

That also applies to her doing absolutely everything for you. Carrying a bag? She’s got it. Need to run a quick errand? Don’t worry, she’s already grabbed the keys. Too tired to walk up the stairs? She’ll carry you. Heading to book an appointment for a massage? Like hell she’s letting someone touch you. She’ll have the 5-star experience at home.

Her physique is sooo delicious. She’s got strong arms, toned legs, defined abs.. she’s just so fit. Always sends you pictures of her at the gym, all sweaty and pretty for you.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, gently caressing your back.. she lovess to feel you relax in her touch. Really, it’s cause she loves to always have her hands on you. You’re just too gorgeous.

Loves back hugs. There’s just something so sweet about being able to hold you so tenderly, pressing warm kisses to your neck. Definitely her favorite type of hug.

Has to have you sat on her lap. There’s just no other way. When you watch movies together, play video games, when you’re having a quick smoke sesh, when you’re kissing— she’s always gonna have you pulled right onto her. She loves seeing you sat so prettily on top of her

LOVES when you get a new set of nails. Bonus points if they’re long, charmed ones. They feel so good when they’re wrapped around her pretty neck when your making out.

Kissing you is her favorite thing; if it’s on your lips, on your cheekbone, on the spot right in between your eyebrows, anywhere on your body— but she especially loves to kiss your neck. Always before going to sleep, she’ll make sure to snuggle up real close and litter you with kisses all over your face and neck before letting you rest. she just loves you too much

Mika always makes you feel loved. Whether that’s through sweet gifts she spoils you with, thoughtful gestures, passionate kisses, or loving words. She’s just perfect.

A/N: HI BABIES!!! I apologize for the fat text coming up. it’s been one hell of a 2 years. this was just rotting up in my drafts, along with countless other works i haven’t had the time nor motivation to finish. so so sorry for the late response nonnie. this isn’t proofread, and unfortunately isn’t too organized either. the writing and characterization might also suck.. as it’s been quiteee a long time 😅. also, i didn’t use the “Girlfriend!Mikasa who (..)” start.. but i think i might for other works in the future?? would you like that? lmk! I feel like tumblr has moved on from the usual bullet point nd dump haha. sorry again sweetheart! hope this was alright for uuu <3 i will try my hardest to be more active for u guys soon!! MWA💋💋

[harmonyrae]

Inked - Part 2

Synopsis: You convinced him to take you on a race, can you handle the consequences? And a trip to Paradise reveals a new layer to the underworld Rafayel is a part of & reveals more about his interesting relationship with Sylus.

Part One

AN: This fanfic was inspired & entirely fueled by the artwork above, done by the amazing @obligatedart - thank you for letting me use your work as the cover art! Go check them out and see the other tattooed Rafayel pieces they’ve done. Comment if you want to be tagged for part 3 or any of my other fics.

Content Warnings: explicit language & sexual content, alcohol consumption, illegal street racing & evading, not-so-safe sex on a motorcycle, gambling, sassy Sylus, mentions of needles (tattoo needles, not medical), genital piercings, semi-public sex (if you squint), dom!Rafayel moments (bless), rough ROUGH, creampie, PiV, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 15k 

Now Playing (for club scene): Fuck Around Find Out - Mobiius Alone - Mobiius Smolder - Mobiius

“This should work. Don’t take off the jacket, gloves or helmet unless I say so, okay?”

Rafayel pulls a dark red leather jacket out of your closet. He digs through your dresser drawers and finds a black long sleeve shirt and your thickest pair of jeans, he tosses them on your bed. A pair of padded gloves and a white helmet with cute little light up cat ears sits on your dresser. You shrug your hoodie off and start to unbutton your skirt, Rafayel lays back on your bed and hums.

“Enjoying the show?”

“Well, there’s no music and you’re too far away, so no.”

You shake your head and continue getting changed. Once you have your pants and long sleeve on, you sit to lace up your moto boots. Rafayel shifts to sit behind you, he wraps his legs around you and removes the clip holding your hair up. You turn to reprimand him, but you feel him gather your hair and section it into three sections.

“Are you braiding my hair?”

He doesn’t answer, instead his fingers weave your hair together with ease. 

“When did you learn to braid hair?”

“Talia taught me. We would go swimming after I’d get out of school and she’d always get her hair caught in a reef. So she taught me to braid her hair. I got pretty good at it too. She had me do her hair for her wedding.”

“Talia’s married?”

Your high-pitched squeak makes Rafayel laugh. He secures your braid with a hair tie from around his wrist. 

“Her husband is very open-minded.”

You lean back against him and he kisses your temple. 

“Race starts at 9.”

You get up and zip up your leather jacket. Rafayel helps tighten your gloves and adjusts your helmet. He snaps the visor down and leads you through your living room - which is much too dark with the visor down. 

You’re surprised when you see his car parked in the garage. You put your hands on your hips.

“I thought…”

“That I’d bring my racing bike here? No, cutie. That would be silly.”

His mocking sing-song voice makes you growl, you pout - even though he can’t see it - and cross your arms.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Come on, let me show you my lair.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling.

“You have a lair? Like Batman? You’re – wait, if we weren’t getting on your bike, why am I wearing my helmet already?”

He opens the passenger door and looks back at you, his hand on his hip.

“Cause you’re just so cute with your little kitty ears.”

You open your visor so he can see you dramatically roll your eyes. He places a hand on top of your helmet to make sure you don’t bump your head when you sink into his car.

After driving through downtown for almost half an hour, Rafayel finally takes a back alley and approaches a man dressed in all black with a full face mask. Rafayel slows and nods at the man. As he drives past, Rafayel reaches over and opens the glove box to pull a mask out. He quickly puts it on before turning down another alley that leads to the highway. 

After a short drive, you can tell you’ve entered the no hunt zone. The cars that pass by are mostly armored and have tinted windows. The buildings are weathered with bars on the windows. Rafayel pulls up to a tall parking garage and heads to the basement level. You’re surprised to find a large garage door blocking off the lower level. Rafayel presses a button on his dash and the door opens. 

Inside, there’s row after row of expensive cars and a smaller selection of motorcycles of every make and model. Rafayel parks his car and hops out. You follow him to a white Kawasaki with dark red side panels and seat covers, the headlights also appear to be tinted red. Rafayel squats down next to the bike and runs his hand over the side panel down to the chain guard. He stands and pulls off his mask, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

“Good as new.”

He walks over to a wall with a huge shelving unit stocked with helmets. He picks up the helmet you saw that night at your apartment, now fully repaired. Rafayel sets the helmet on the seat of his bike and turns to you. With your visor still up, he tracks your eyes to his helmet.

“My team works fast.”

He reaches up and tugs at your helmet, checking the straps. He drops his hands to check your gloves… again.

“You’re nervous.”

He meets your gaze. 

“About having you on the back of my bike while I race through the city at breakneck speeds? Nervous doesn’t quite cut it.”

“I’ll be okay. I trust you.”

He sighs and stares at the floor. You reach up and hold his face in your hands. You don’t speak and he rests his forehead against your helmet. 

“Am I interrupting?”

Rafayel looks over your shoulder and he squeezes your hands, almost like an involuntary reflex. You start to turn but Rafayel tugs on your hands and you squint. You pull your hand free and turn to face a tall man in leather. You train your eyes over his apparel, black leather pants are tucked into combat boots, a black leather jacket with red and white lightning strikes adorning the sleeves and a fitted turtleneck. When you meet his eyes you gasp. Is this…?

“I don’t believe we’ve properly met. I’m Sylus.”

He extends his gloved hand and you hesitantly take it. Instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You stare at his face, those dark red eyes sparkling behind silver lashes that match his hair. Those lips. You definitely remember them. And his voice… 

“I mean we’ve met, but –”

Rafayel steps up beside you, his arms crossed. Sylus lets go of your hand. His devious smirk tells you he is enjoying this introduction. Your cheeks flush and you wish you could close your visor without adding to Sylus’s ego.

“We should probably talk before the rest of the crew gets here.”

Sylus crosses his arms, mirroring Rafayel. 

“I assume she knows already?”

Rafayel nods, you notice his cheeks are flushed. Sylus was definitely the man from the party. Sylus… Ryūō… Rafayel knew who he was, that he was his friend, and let him… Oh, you were so forcing him to tell you the full story now.

“She does.”

“And she knows my alias?”

Rafayel nods. Sylus turns to face you. 

“And she knows what will happen if that information is… leaked?”

Rafayel steps forward, putting you slightly behind him. 

“She does.”

You huff and step up to stand beside both the men, facing both of them. 

“She can answer for herself. I’m not going to leak anything. You have enough to worry about with whoever this Onryō person is.”

Sylus tilts his head and gives you a once over. His smile returns. 

“Fair enough.” 

Rafayel rubs the back of his neck before continuing. 

“Onryō probably won’t show up at today’s race, it’s too risky. But they’ll probably be watching. My people are still trying to track them down, whoever they are they’re good at covering their tracks. I’ll update you with any changes.”

Sylus continues to stare at you. You can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as he forms his opinion of you.

“Your people have two more days before my people get involved.”

Rafayel uncrosses his arms and opens his mouth to say something.

“Rafayel, I already have a bounty on my head and whoever this Onryō prick is, they’re giving the authorities the idea that they can actually catch me. And those cops weren’t traffic cops, they were professionals.”

Rafayel starts pacing, walking slow circles around you and Sylus. He pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing when he realizes he pinched his piercing. He adjusts it before continuing to rub his forehead. 

“Do you think Onryō is undercover?”

Sylus shrugs.

“Not sure. Could be. All I know is I’ll probably have to retire Stella.”

“Stella?”

You finally speak up, your brain trying to keep track of all the information.

“He names his bikes.”

“Stella was the bike I drove last week. Now the cops know her make and model, it’s too risky to take her to the shop for a wipe down.”

Rafayel paces around him.

“Fuck…”

“Mephisto’s monitoring the shop. He runs a background check for every client, nothing sus yet.” 

Rafayel stops pacing, he turns to face Sylus.

“Did you just say ‘sus’? Like, with all seriousness?”

“Luke and Kieran said ‘sus’ means suspicious.”

“Sylus, you’re too old to say shit like that.”

Sylus glares at Rafayel, which amuses Rafayel greatly.

“You’re one to talk.”

Rafayel raises his hands in mock surrender. 

“Mephisto is watching the shop, what about Xavier?”

“Xavier’s in the bunker. He’s been there since the race. He’s being taken care of.”

Rafayel nods. You put your hands on your hips and try to hold your tongue, you’re so lost. Rafayel notices and circles behind you, rubbing your shoulders.

“Xavier is our designer, he creates the tracks and controls the app that we use for races. He also... monitors police frequencies to keep us up to date on any investigations.”

“And Mephisto?”

“A bird.”

“That’s a gross mischaracterization.”

Rafayel laughs and drapes his arm around your shoulder. 

“I’m… ha! I’m sorry, but he is a bird. A mechanical bird but still a bird.”

Sylus crosses his arms again and huffs. Rafayel holds his breath, trying to stop laughing.

“Okay, sorry sorry. He’s a huge help, eyes in the sky - literally - which we desperately need right now. You built him, right Sy?”

Sylus nods. You cock your head.

“Two days Rafayel. I’m not waiting any longer than that.”

Rafayel’s smile falls and he stuffs his hand in his pocket.

“Fine. Two days.”

Sylus looks at you once again. 

“We should get to know each other better if you’re going to be involved in our… business.”

“She’s not involved Sylus.”

“Of course she’s involved.”

“She certainly is.”

Rafayel and Sylus look at you, both somewhat surprised by your response. You turn to Rafayel, forcing his arm off of your shoulder. 

“If it was as simple as trying to stop illegal street racing they wouldn’t have kicked your bike. If this person is trying to hurt you I want to know their motive. So yes, I am involved.”

“So dinner, Sunday. My base. 7 o’clock sound good for everyone? Good. I’ll see you both there.”

With that, Sylus turns and walks away. Rafayel clears his throat and walks back to his bike. You follow, wishing you could remove your helmet and kiss him until that frown vanishes.

“We don’t have to go, he’s just being a pain in the ass as always.” 

You walk over and mount his bike, taking the driver seat. He leans down and places a hand on the handlebar and another on the seat behind you.

“Whatcha doin cutie?”

“Getting comfortable for storytime.”

He wrinkles his nose and cocks his head to the side. 

“I could always ask Sylus for the story behind that debt he repaid at dinner on Sunday.”

Rafayel’s ears turn bright red and his cheeks soon follow. He shakes his head and drops his eyes to the floor. He’s been avoiding this conversation all week and you’ve let him, with his injury still healing. 

“You did say you’d explain later. It’s definitely later.”

Rafayel sighs and leans his head on your shoulder.

“Fine. Yes, Sylus was the guy at the party.”

“The guy who sucked your dick.”

Rafayel lifts his head to glare at you. You chuckle and cover where your mouth would be with your hand, giving him an apologetic look. 

“He did do that, yes. The debt was… fuck… okay…”

He straightens and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, trying to look casual while you knew he was boiling alive. 

“For the past few years, every time we line up to start a race, Sylus and I will give each other shit. He’ll say something about dusting me or beating my record and I’ll tell him to… ‘suck my dick’ - it became a tradition I guess.”

He stutters and you rest your chin on your fist, leaning against the gas tank in front of you.

“We set up a tournament and we got a little… too competitive. We decided to make a bet and… he said he’d follow through on my…” He raises his fingers to make air quotes. “‘Catch Phrase’ as he referred to it, if I beat him.”

“And you beat him.”

“Yea…”

“And you enjoyed it?”

Rafayel's pupils dilate and you smile - if only he could see it through your damn helmet.

“I’m glad you did. It certainly gave you the motivation to eat me out like a man starved.”

He groans and turns around to start pacing again. 

“We should go.”

“To what?” 

“Dinner. At his place.”

He spins around, his eyes wide.

“Why?”

“He’s important to you, even if he’s just a rival giving you shit. Sunday is two days away, so you’ll either have an answer about Onryō by then or he’ll send his people out to hunt. I’m sure you’ll want another attempt at trying to convince him otherwise. Am I right?”

Rafayel sighs and nods reluctantly. 

“Then we’ll go. Plus it’s funny watching him get under your skin.”

“Rude.” 

You poke your elbow into his stomach. 

“It’s almost 9.”

You hop off the bike and he takes your place. You hand him his helmet so you can climb on behind him. He secures his helmet and revs the engine before reaching back to pat your leg.

“You ready?”

You close your visor, lean forward and wrap your arms around him.

“Whole new world time?”

Rafayel laughs and closes his visor. He lifts up the kickstand with his heel. 

“Come on Princess, let’s ride.”

He carefully weaves his way through the garage and out onto the street. You spot a long line of bikes parked on the sidewalk. Rafayel drives to the front of the line and pulls out his phone.

“It’s my turn to register everyone, so they’ll all drive up in a second.”

The roar of multiple bikes starting up is deafening. They slowly pull off the sidewalk to drive into a line near where Rafayel is parked. A silver bike with light blue headlights approaches first. Two long white braids hang over their shoulders. Their helmet is adorned with delicate snowflakes and lines that look like cracks in ice. A female voice greets Rafayel.

“What’s up Kiko? Yuki onna, 3146.”

Rafayel nods and types something on his phone.

“Oh you know, just hunting down the fuckhead who ruined our last race. Accept?” 

She taps her phone that’s mounted to the handlebars of her bike. You hear Rafayel’s phone chime. 

“Let me know if you need help with that.”

She pulls off and heads towards the back of the line. You recognize the alias, Yuki onna, snow woman. Her helmet design was much more Elsa than terrifying supernatural spirit, but still very fitting.

The next bike rolls up, the bright purple and pink streaks along the side panels glow in the dark, their pure white headlights are almost too bright. Their helmet painted a dark purple with white lightning strikes spreading out from the visor. The voice that greets you is loud and gritty. 

“Kiko, my guy! Since when do you have a backpack? What’s up babe?”

“Raijū…”

Rafayel’s tone is a warning, the biker shifts in his seat and waves his hand.

“I was just playing around. You find the prick who fucked you up?”

Rafayel shakes his head.

“Working on it.”

“They better hope you don’t find them, I’m sure you have something creative planned.”

Your grip around Rafayel’s waist tightens. You feel his hand rub yours. 

“What’s your number today?”

“Raijū, 1520.”

Rafayel types on his phone, the biker taps his smartwatch and Rafayel’s phone chimes again. They rev their engine before slowly moving forward.

“Have fun, backpack! Kiko’s a wild one.”

He drives off and takes an alley, which you assume loops around to the back of the line. If you remember correctly, Raijū is a thunder beast. Their legend was fairly vague, but mostly they were considered messengers from the gods. Their messages were mostly in the form of punishing lightning strikes. 

You don’t recognize every yokai alias that you hear, but the color choices and helmet designs give you plenty of clues. You try to take mental notes so you can look them up when you get home to see if your guesses were correct. 

The final bike in the line approaches and you recognize the leather jacket, the white and red lightning strikes glowing in the darkness. Sylus’s bike is all black with no side panels, the exposed interior a bright chrome. His black helmet had patches of golden scales lined with fire. You assume this is his backup bike since “Stella” had to be retired. Stella probably matched his alias much better.

“And you’re sure you want to ride with him?”

Sylus winks at you, which makes Rafayel huff in response. You laugh and move your arms to rest over Rafayel’s shoulders. Sylus reaches up to close his visor and clicks his phone into its holder below his handlebars. 

“What’s your number?”

Rafayel leans back against you and as you rub his chest.

“Ryūō, 7213.”

Sylus taps his phone.

"I would provide my usual taunt, but your response doesn't hold as much power as it once did."

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Sylus is loving how flustered he now makes Rafayel and it shows. Rafayel flips him off and Sylus gives you a casual salute before speeding off to rejoin the line. Rafayel sighs as he continues typing something on his phone. 

“What are the numbers?”

Rafayel pauses, turning his head so you can hear him better.

“Confirmation IDs. They sign up on the app and get a number. They’d only have the number if they’re logged into a recognized account.”

“And… what did that guy mean by ‘backpack’?” 

Rafayel snorts, he secures his phone to its mount.

“It’s what bikers call their passengers. Well… mostly for special passengers.”

“Special?”

He lifts his visor, looks over his shoulder and winks at you. He turns back around and turns his bike back on, shutting his visor again as he lines his bike up on the street. The other bikers pull up beside him and rev their engines. 

“Remember, hands on the tank, don’t lean into or away from the turn, just stay loose and no sudden movements.” 

“Got it.”

You give his torso a squeeze and plant your hands on the tank in front of him. He leans forward and settles in. You look over his shoulder and see a countdown on his phone. Taking a deep breath, you watch the other bikers shift back and forth preparing to take off. You spot Sylus slightly behind the line, he leans on his elbows patiently. He gives you a cheeky wave and you spin back around to face forward. 

You watch the countdown and take a deep breath. Five… How fast does Rafayel’s bike actually go? Four… Is the whole race in the no hunt zone or does it loop back into the city? Three… Will cops show up? Two… How many times has Rafayel run from the police? One… What if you get caught or crash or…? The sound of a dozen engines drowns your worries - it’s too late to back out now.

How did you end up in one of those “so you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Rafayel’s bike must have cost a fortune - you can’t imagine how many upgrades and illegal modifications it’s had. In a flash you’re speeding down a dimly lit street at 130. You’re suddenly very thankful Rafayel made you wear your thickest leather jacket, the wind alone would freeze you. 

You force yourself to take slow, steady breaths and follow Rafayel’s lead. His phone flashes every time he needs to turn. He drives like he’s swimming, his turns smooth, weaving between cars and the other racers seamlessly. You can’t hear anything but Rafayel’s bike engine - it’s somewhat calming. 

You hear the faint chirp of sirens and hold your breath. You hear Rafayel’s voice.

“We’re fine, don’t worry.”

You wince, his voice is loud.

“Your helmet has Bluetooth, I connected it before we left.”

You take a deep breath and stretch your hands trying to calm down.

“You can talk back if it helps?”

“Oh… okay.”

Your voice is shakier than you intended. 

“Just breathe, we’ll be okay. They’re following, but not chasing just yet.”

“When… will they chase?”

“Most patrol cops can tell when a race is done, they’ll chase the finishers. Big turn.”

You follow his lead and the turn is smooth. You hear the sirens getting closer. 

“Do they always wait?”

“Not always. Don’t worry, I’ll pull off if they get too close.”

“How fast are you going now?”

Rafayel laughs. “185.”

“Fucking hell…”

“I can hit 240 but only ever hit that on highway races with long straights. I won’t go over 200 in urban areas.”

You take a look around and see you’re on a backroad. You recognize the area, you’re close to the city now.

“Are we heading back into Linkon?” 

“Yep, the race ends at the pier. From there we circle back to a garage downtown for payouts.”

“Payouts?”

“Ahh, right. We gamble with our races. The top three split the pot.”

“Are you winning?”

“I’m in third at the moment. I don’t plan on winning.”

“Why not?!” Rafayel chuckles at your tone. “I want you to win!”

“You’re going to yell at me when I tell you why.”

“Well now you have to tell me.”

“My bike can’t go as fast with two people on it.”

“Oh my god! You’re calling me fat?!” You play up the sarcasm in your voice since he can’t see your face. 

“I knew you’d yell at me!”

“I’m not yelling!” You were, in fact, yelling. 

“It’s just physics or whatever! I swear I’m not calling you fat!” 

You’re not really upset, but hearing him backtrack is just too entertaining. As the race enters the city, Linkon city cops start following the race. The closer you get to the pier the more anxious you get. Rafayel continues to try to keep you calm, but as the sirens get louder you start to wonder what Jenna will say when you get arrested.

“Babe? You with me?”

“Yeah… yes, sorry.”

“It’s okay. Race ends around the corner, when I tell you to, I need you to turn around and tell me if any cops follow us, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Hold onto me, you’ll be okay.”

The pier comes into view and Rafayel slows as he approaches the finish line. You lift a hand to press against his stomach. You pass under the entrance to the pier and he brakes, his rear tire smokes as it burns out to spin completely around. Cops slam on their brakes and try to back up to turn around and follow, but they’re too slow. 

“Now, check now.”

As he speeds down the alleyway, you turn your head and look back, two white sports cars with lights on the dashboard flash speed up behind you. 

“Fuck! Two… two ugh… two nice, good, fast…”

“Two pursuit vehicles. How close?”

“On our ass!”

Rafayel snorts and you want to slap him, but you are clinging to him too tightly to even move at the moment. He winds down the city streets carefully, but picks up speed once he hits a long stretch. He takes a turn that leads back to downtown.

“Do you want me to check again?”

“Wait until I make this turn and then check.”

He takes a wide turn cutting into the opposing lanes, you look over your shoulder to see one of the pursuit vehicles lose control and clip the sidewalk. The car tips and the driver overcorrects making him spin out into the bushes, a tree stops the car completely and the sirens wail cuts out. Guilt hits you like a truck and you pinch your eyes closed.

“One of them crashed…”

“Okay, easy, we’ll be out in a sec.”

You keep your eyes closed and wrap your arms around Rafayel, gripping your wrists around his waist until your hands nearly go numb. All you can see is that cop crashing into the tree. The bike wiggles beneath you and Rafayel’s hand squeezes your leg.

“Babe, babe! Talk to me!”

You let out a shaky breath and gasp for air, you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until that moment. When you open your eyes your vision is spotty. White spots cloud your vision and you let out a quiet sob.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. We’re almost out. Talk to me baby, please.”

“They crashed…”

Rafayel takes a sharp turn and you nearly slip off the seat. The alleyway is too narrow for the other pursuit vehicle to follow. When Rafayel reaches the other side, he revs his engine and zooms down backstreets until he hits the highway. You glance over your shoulder and there’s no cops in sight. 

A few minutes later, Rafayel pulls up to a garage and honks twice. When the door opens and you see several of the bikes you saw earlier parked inside. All the racers still have their helmets on and are huddled in small groups. Rafayel drives inside and parks, he hops off and pulls up his visor.

“Hey, look at me.” He grabs your helmet and pushes your visor up. The lights of the garage burn your eyes and you squint. Your eyes water as they adjust.

“Babe, hey, the cop is okay.”

“How do you know?”

“I took that corner super slow. I banked on the cop slamming the brakes and skidding into the grass. If anything, they’ll have some bruises, but they’ll be fine.”

You close your eyes and feel tears trickle down your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away and square your shoulders. 

“I’m not crying, the lights, m’eyes are just sensitive.”

Rafayel hugs you, his hands glide over your back.

“I should have warned you about the possibility of how a chase could go… I’m sorry…”

“No. I knew the risks. It was just a reality check, you know?”

You look up to see two bikers approach. Rafayel snaps his visor shut before turning around. He grabs his phone off its mount and stares at the screen.

“Okay, Raijū you were third, Shinigami you were first and where’s Ryūō?”

A tall individual in a dark red jacket leans forward, their helmet is a dark grey with splattered red paint and two red devil horns fixed to the top. You’re surprised by the voice of the individual, its pitch unnatural and distorted.

“He got a call, he’s out back.”

Rafayel nods and taps on his phone two times. Two chimes ring out and the bikers check their phones before turning to leave. Raijū flips his visor up to wink at you and then skips back to his bike before Rafayel can shove him.

“How much did they make?”

Rafayel looks at his phone, scrolling slowly.

“13 racers, $25k to join, so the total was $325k. First gets 60 percent, second and third each get 20. So… Shinigami got $195k, Ryūō and Raijū each got $65k.”

You audibly gasp. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen $65k let alone over $100k. Rafayel chuckles and mounts his bike once more.

“Everyone here is an adrenaline junkie. Gambling ups the stakes.”

“Wait, so you lost $25k? Because of me?”

Rafayel turns on his bike and turns to watch his fellow racers leave the garage before driving through to the back door where Sylus’s bike is parked. 

“I told you, I didn’t plan on winning tonight. It was just about the experience.”

You lean back and cross your arms as Rafayel gets off his bike and unhooks the straps of his helmet. He sets his helmet on his seat and offers his hand to help you hop off. You let out a dramatic sigh and take the hand offered to you. 

Rafayel wraps an arm around your waist and pulls out the fabric mask from his pocket and puts it on before opening the back door and slipping outside. Sylus leans against the brick wall, his phone pressed to his ear. His helmet tucked under his arm. As you approach you hear the tail end of his conversation.

“Fuck no, kick them out if they’re harassing my girls. Take down their names and have Mike drag them out. Give the girls the rest of the night off. Paid, of course... I’ll call after closing.”

He hangs up and smiles, a stark contrast to the anger burning behind his eyes.

“Trouble in Paradise?” 

Sylus chuckles as he rubs his forehead. 

“Just some drunk idiots harassing my staff.”

“Paradise is his club, by the way.” 

Rafayel squeezes your hip and you hum in response.

“I saw my winnings come through, I assume everyone left?”

Rafayel nods. You lean against him and try to imagine Sylus in a club, he just doesn’t seem like the club type. You start to imagine what kind of club he might own and then an idea hits you.

“Wait, you own a club.”

A teasing smirk spreads across his lips.

“Yes, I do. Would you like to join me sometime?”

You feel Rafayel bristle and hold you tighter.

“No no, you own a club, why not use it? For you know, tracking down Onryō? I assume you both have the connections to get the word out there to… certain people… and if Onryō knows you’ll both be there they might show up.”

He takes a step toward you. 

“That… is a great idea, sweetie.”

Rafayel spins you around and walks you back to the door to the garage. 

“Yea, brilliant idea, let us know when it’s planned and we’ll be there, yea?”

You hear Sylus chuckle behind you before Rafayel rushes you back into the garage. Without his helmet, you can see his ears turning red. You’re starting to suspect that is not only a sign of him being turned on but also of him being jealous. Possibly both given his and Sylus’ interesting relationship dynamic.

You watch him shove his helmet back on and adjust the straps. You wrap your arms around his chest, trapping his arms to his sides. 

“Are you…?”

“Am I what?”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He wiggles against your grasp and you giggle in response. He starts to lean back and you struggle to keep standing. 

“You’re cute when you think I’m cute.”

You finally release him and he turns to face you.

“It is a good idea by the way. An event like that will draw a crowd of all the wrong people, especially if they know Sylus and I will be there.”

You hold onto his hips as he reaches up to hold the chin of your helmet. 

“Then let’s focus on the event. Sunday’s dinner will be the perfect opportunity to help Sylus plan!”

Rafayel groans and bangs his helmet against yours. He turns to mount his bike and you follow suit. 

“I’m in charge of music!” 

Rafayel nods and you pull out your phone to sync up the Bluetooth in your helmets. He zips out of the garage and down an alleyway. 

After switching back to his street bike, Rafayel takes his time driving back to his apartment. The streets were unusually quiet after the night you’ve had. You rest your head against his back, reliving the thrill. 

The next song on your playlist is raunchy, and before you could think up an excuse you feel Rafayel’s chest shake with a laugh. You let out a deep sigh, he’s extra cocky tonight and it’s driving you insane. An idea pops into your head and you smile, thankful your helmet hides your intentions.

Your hands glide over his stomach. You let them drift further and further down, until your fingertips brush against the zipper on his jeans. 

“Patience, cutie. We’ll be home soon.”

You giggle, letting him feel the subtle shake of your chest against his back. The adrenaline you’d felt during the race had finally worn off, its replacement was much more… carnal. Patience was the last thing on your mind. 

You tuck your hands under his crotch and rub against his already hard cock. You feel Rafayel take a sharp breath. His hands gripping the handles tightly. He slows down slightly, but you don’t. You squeeze your hand as you cup him, you can feel his piercing and you rub your thumb over it with more force than necessary. He leans forward, trying to pinch your fingers and get you to let go, but you just squeeze him a little harder.

“Cutie…” You swear his voice dropped an octave. “I’ll have to punish you for this little stunt…”

You tug his shirt up and run a hand up his abdomen. His muscles tense at your touch. His breathing turns ragged and he grasps your hand through his shirt.

“Come on Raf… hot and bothered looks so good on you…” 

You feel his cock twitch against your hand and you roll your body against his back. He returns his hand to the handle and revs the engine, speeding up and blasting his way down back alleys to avoid stop lights. 

You rub him faster and run your nails across his abs. He turns down the road leading to his studio and the sudden burst of speed up the hill pushes the bike up onto the back tire. You tighten your grip around his waist and slow your massage, your heartbeat pounds in your ears - what song is even playing right now?  

You’re barely inside the private garage behind the studio before he is dismounting and tossing his helmet to the ground. He swiftly turns and starts tugging at the straps of your helmet. As soon as your helmet is off, he lifts you off of his bike and your bodies collide. The concept of patience is long forgotten as he slots his mouth over yours.

“Now how will I punish my precious angel for not being able to control her hands?”

You start undoing his belt when he grabs your hands and you tilt your head, looking up at him. 

“Oh no no no… You first, I insist.” 

His lips curve into a smug smile and before your stubborn nature makes you leave him high and dry, you reach up and pull him to you. You press yourself against him as your lips fight for dominance. You’re needy and don’t give a fuck, you want everything he has to give you tonight.

He bends his knees and lifts you by the backs of your thighs and you wrap your legs around him. You expect to be taken up the stairs to his apartment, but instead your ass meets the seat directly behind you. You gasp in surprise and your eyes fly open, breaking the kiss to look down. He’s put you back on his bike? You smile and lean into the kisses he’s started placing along your collarbone. 

Rafayel pulls your jacket off and drops it to the floor before lifting your shirt over your head. He takes a deep breath as his eyes rake over your chest, your lace bra hiding nothing from him. He dips his head down to press his lips over your covered nipples, making your back arch. You push at his jacket and he leans back to tug it off and drop it next to yours. He pulls his t-shirt over his head before returning to worship your body. 

His mouth meets yours again and he lifts a hand to tug your bottom lip down with his thumb, his tongue sliding into your mouth in an instant. You moan as he begins rocking his hips against you. He undoes your belt and tucks his hands under your ass to help you stand to peel your pants down your legs. His fingers trace the delicate patterns of your lace panties, his breath hot against your neck.

Before he can literally tear your panties off of your body, you stop him. With your fingers locked behind his neck, all he can do is stare at you. His cheeks are flushed and sweat drips down his chest. One thing you loved the most about Rafayel, his eyes would sparkle when he was lost in the heat of the moment. The pink hue would finally overpower the deep blue and it was like you were walking on a pink sand beach, warm and at peace.

You reach up and gently stroke his cheeks, he leans into your touch. You place a soft kiss to his lips and you feel him shudder. His eyes open looking more blurred and unfocused than before. 

You let him go to pull the straps of your bra down your arms and pull it over your head. Rafayel’s eyes instantly clear as he stares at your body. You reach down and take one of his hands, lifting it to glide over your stomach and over the swell of your breast. You release his hand once he starts kneading your sensitive flesh on his own. You whisper his name and his eyes snap to yours.

“Fuck me on your motorcycle…”

His chest caves and he stands up straight, hooking his fingers on the hem of your panties to yank them down. He plants his hands on your waist, lifting you and sitting your bare ass on the seat of his motorcycle. He whips off his belt, watching you spread your legs further. You extend your hand, pulling him forward by the belt loops. You reach around him and quickly squeeze his ass. He winces and glares at you. You’re about to laugh when he takes hold of your braid and tips your head back. He leans down and hovers his lips over yours.

“Bad girl…”

If his kiss is your punishment for squeezing his ass, you’ll be doing it a lot more often. He doesn’t stop you from pushing his pants down over his hips. He removes the hair band from the end of your braid and gently combs through your hair with his fingers. You reach down to take hold of his leaking cock, rubbing your thumb over his swollen tip. He steps closer so you can align him and you drag his cock over your slick cunt. He presses himself into your slowly, too slowly. You plant your hands on his hip and pull him forward, taking him all at once. He groans, throwing his head back. You let out a breath and rest your head against his chest as you adjust and let the pain melt into an intense pleasure. 

“Fuck… I need… I need to move, baby… hold onto me.”

You glide your hands up his chest to circle around his neck. You watch his eyes roll back before he pulls back to thrust. You start rolling your hips, driving yourself crazy with the friction of his piercing against your clit. You close your eyes and lean your head back, letting Rafayel find his rhythm. You run your hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. He holds his breath as he watches you, sweat glistening across your chest, your eyes closed, your lips swollen, your ragged voice moaning his name - losing yourself to the pleasure he’s bringing you.

He grips the center of the handle bar and holds you against him as his thrusts become more intense. The motorcycle sways, your arousal dripping down onto the seat is making it hard for you to remain still. You wrap your legs around him again to avoid slipping off.

You finally open your eyes and bring your hands to cradle his face, placing kisses along his jaw. He lets out a breathy moan and whispers your name over and over. You silence him with a kiss and his fingertips dig into your back.

You roll your hips one last time, meeting his most brutal thrust yet. You almost black out at the intense pain and pleasure of it all. He was so deep, his hips hitting yours so harshly you’re sure you’ll have bruises forming before he even pulls out. The muscles in your stomach tighten and when you can’t take a deep breath you know you’re done for. You scream his name as your climaxes hit at the same time. Rafayel whimpering against your neck as you claw at his chest. 

He rests his hands on the seat, his thumbs brushing against your thighs as his cock softens inside you. You make no move to drop your legs from his waist, not yet. You kiss the tip of his nose and he rests his forehead against yours. He looks down at his motorcycle and chuckles.

“Now how do I explain this to my detailing team?”

You laugh with him, finally letting him slip out and lift you off of his bike. He bends to pick you up bridal style and carries you up the stairs to his apartment. You nuzzle your head into his neck and sigh.

“Just tell them you had the ride of your life.”

“This is how I die, isn’t it? This is it. It was a great run.”

You can barely hear Rafayel under the pile of clothes you stacked on top of him. He’s the one who decided to lay down on your bed while you tried on outfits for the event at Sylus’s club. He knew the risks. You had nearly gone through every article of clothing in your closet and you were getting desperate. Nothing felt right. And of course work got busy as soon as the date was set and you couldn’t go shopping like you planned. 

“Stop being dramatic! Fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

“I beg to differ.”

Rafayel sticks his hand through the pile on top of him and wags his finger at you. You start shoving your clothes off of the bed, freeing Rafayel from his prison. He sits up and dramatically gasps for air. You flop down on the bed and cover your face.

“I just don’t feel comfortable in any of my clothes right now. I’ve gained weight, Tara is borrowing my favorite dress for her vacation with Jeremiah and I’m starting to think my body type is not good for dresses.” 

Rafayel pulls you on top of him and you squeal, he holds you close and nuzzles his face into your hair. You stop struggling and relax in his warm embrace.

“You’ll look amazing in whatever you choose. Your body is perfect and it’s definitely the type for dresses.”

You frown and try to look up at him. 

“The event starts in 3 hours… we should be getting ready.” Rafayel hums and slowly rubs your arms. You wiggle against his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. You whine and he laughs, giving the top of your head a soft kiss.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry. How about I pick out your outfit for you? It’ll be a surprise.”

Rafayel releases you and you sit up.

“You sure?”

He nods and you shrug before standing to head into the bathroom. 

You drag your fingers along your lash line to smear your eyeliner and mascara, adding black shadow to create a smoked out wing. After redrawing your eyeliner with precision and adding a small set of wispy false lashes, you feel more club-appropriate. The hot rollers in your hair were cool to the touch by the time you finished touching up your makeup, the curls were tight and bouncy - you knew they’d fall into loose waves by the end of the night. With a final flick of your lip gloss wand, you head back into your bedroom.

Rafayel stands beside your bed, he changed into the suit he brought with him and you nearly tripped over your own feet. His fitted black suit pants tucked into his worn boots. The sleeves of the matching suit jacket were rolled up over his elbows with a simple black button up left untucked and mostly unbuttoned underneath. The undone red bow tie around his neck was a surprising touch, the color complimented his tattoos nicely. He looked incredible and you suddenly became very aware you were still in your pajamas. 

“Damn. You clean up nice.”

“Thanks, cutie. You look ready to go, let’s head out, yea?”

You glare at him, his cheeky smirk making your heart flutter. You put your hands on your hips and he finally steps aside to reveal the outfit he selected laid out on your bed for you.

Surprisingly, it was a relatively simple ensemble. Wide leg, high waisted dark gray trousers, sleek black stilettos and a fitted leather jacket. You walk over and pick up the jacket, looking for a shirt and hold up a scarf you forgot you have.

“Where’s the shirt?”

“You’re looking at it.”

You stare at the scarf in your hand. The rich emerald green was definitely a good color option and the golden thread woven throughout sparkled in the light. But how on earth is this your top?

“You said you didn’t like anything you have, so let’s make something new.”

You drop the scarf on your bed and cross your arms. Rafayel picks up the scarf and swings it over his head to settle around his neck.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod sheepishly. He tugs on your baggie t-shirt urging you to change. You carefully pull your shirt over your head, making sure your hair isn’t touched. As you pull the trousers up, Rafayel steps forward to adjust the belt, twisting it to accentuate your waist before securing the buckle. You hand the necklaces he laid out for you to him and turn around. His fingers graze your skin gently as he hooks them together around your neck.

You shudder when his fingers slide along the back of your bra, pausing over the clasp. His lips press against the skin of your neck as he swiftly unhooks the clasp and pulls away from your body. You lean back against him and hold your breath as his hand sweeps your hair over your shoulder. He removes the scarf from around his neck and centers it across your back. He wraps the fabric under your arms and crosses it over your chest. He ties it behind your neck and slowly turns you around. 

He adjusts the scarf over your breasts and shivers spread across your skin when his fingers brush over your nipples. You watch him smirk and try to move away, he grabs your waist suddenly and pulls you into a kiss. His lashes tickle your cheeks and you giggle against his lips. He steps back and smiles at you. Your giggles turn to a full belly laugh and you wipe your finger over Rafayel’s lipstick stained lips. He kisses your fingers before reaching out to free your necklaces from under your makeshift top. 

Looking in the mirror you are shocked at how effortlessly Rafayel made a simple scarf into a beautiful top. The necklaces sit neatly in the folds around your neck and make the golden threading more prominent. 

“So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks flush and you try to distract yourself by fixing your lipstick. He grabs your jacket and guides your arms through the sleeves. He surprises you when he kneels beside your bed and lifts a hand. You approach slowly, unsure what he’s up to. He picks up one of the heels off your bed and points to your foot. You lift your foot and his hand circles your ankle. He slides the heel on and sets your foot down, reaching for the other shoe and waiting for you to lift your other foot. He repeats the action, but kisses the top of your foot before setting it down. 

“Ready?”

You’re actually speechless. All he did was help you get dressed and here you are barely keeping it together. He stands and offers his arm and you take it, your body buzzing with anticipation for what the night will hold. 

He brought a different car tonight, you’re not a car girl but you recognize the bright red Ferrari Enzo. Rafayel had done a spread in a tattoo magazine and posed with it on the cover. He opens the door for you and helps you in. He climbs in and the engine roars to life, its gritty rumble makes your chest shake. You instinctively reach out and grab Rafayel’s hand that’s resting on the gear shift. He links his fingers with yours and rests your joined hands on his thigh as he takes off.

The drive to the club was quiet, the street lights only ribbons passing by. Rafayel gives you the rundown regarding Sylus’s club, Paradise. 

“He has a shit ton of security, all well trained. Even his dancers and waitresses are trained in self-defense, he requires it. We both have people working the floor so we’ll stay in the VIP section with him, okay?”

You nod and give his hand a squeeze. 

“You good?”

You nod again, distracted by the flashing red lights a few streets in front of you. 

“We’re here.”

Rafayel pulls into the lot where the lights originate and you gasp. The building is huge, at least four stories, the black brick splattered with dripping red paint. Massive stained glass windows, which probably stand two stories tall, glow with the pulsing lights from inside the club. If you didn’t know better you’d think this was a cathedral, even spotting gargoyles lining the side of the building.

The long red carpet is packed with club goers and two burley bouncers stand at the entrance. The valet greets Rafayel and you barely register that your door is being opened. You hold onto Rafayel as he saunters to the front of the line. 

You feel the glares of those waiting and you try your best to ignore their twinge of anxiety forming at the back of your throat. Sudden flashes take you by surprise and one of the bouncers shoves a photographer back to usher you and Rafayel into the building. Once inside, you can’t hear anything but the rhythm of dark and bassy club anthems. 

Inside, you are conflicted yet again, this place had to be a church beforehand. With the stained glass windows, ribbed vaulting line the ceiling, every doorway has a pointed arch, two prominent aisles lined with pillars block off sitting areas and where the altar would be a huge DJ station sits. A large curved bar seems to have taken residence in the ambulatory circling around the raised DJ station. Red and purple lights drown the space and glints of gold catch your eye - sconces, lanterns, any metal detailing is glimmering like an ancient treasure. 

Rafayel leads you through a side door, leaving the chaotic sanctuary behind. The music softens slightly in the narrow stone stairwell. You follow behind him and find yourself in the gallery, over the railing you see the dancers sway to the music and gather around waiters to take shots or glasses of champagne. Then you are walking directly next to the massive stained glass windows. The artwork doesn’t depict the typical Biblical imagery, instead images of mythical beings are painted in vibrant hues. A gorgeous Pegasus with skeletal wings flies next to a dark red dragon. Another window holds the image of a minotaur fighting a sphinx, claws and horns clash in a brutal scene. The final window you pass you see a spectacular ocean and sky standing side by side. A phoenix soaring through the sky while a mermaid glides through the water, mirroring each other's movement in their own element. 

You hear Rafayel speaking with another guard and you’re pulled through an ornate door. On the other side, there’s small corner booths and standing tables scattered around. A private bar sits at the back of the room, the bartender wearing a mask with black feathers serves a couple leaning against the bar. A large balcony overlooks the club, many VIPs sip their drinks while watching the dancers below. 

You spot a familiar silhouette. Sylus stands at the center of the balcony, his white hair tinted red under the light. Rafayel approaches, he holds your hand tightly and you squeeze, trying to reassure him you’re okay. Sylus turns, the head of his dragon tattoo peeks out from behind his unbuttoned dress shirt. With his dark suit jacket hanging off his shoulders he looks ready to take flight. He locks eyes with you, something dark stirs behind those ruby eyes. But as quickly as you register the look it vanishes, replaced with his usual swagger. 

“Welcome to Paradise.”

You chuckle and graciously take a glass of champagne from the waiter that approaches you and Rafayel, who also takes a glass. You raise the glass to Sylus.

“It’s certainly not what I expected, but it is beautiful.”

Sylus smiles as he lifts his glass to his lips, he downs the dark amber liquid in one go and sets it on the waiter's tray. The waiter instantly turns to leave and Sylus steps closer.

“My people are tracking two right now. They won’t act, it’d be a death sentence. Regardless, keep your eyes open. And most importantly…”

He offers his hand to you and you hesitate for a moment before accepting. He lifts your hand to his mouth, his soft lips press against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Rafayel releases your hand and tucks his arm around your waist. You can feel Sylus’s breath against your skin as he laughs. He lets you go and takes a step back. 

“Enjoy the night. I’ll be around. Just say my name and I’ll be there.”

“Like a ghost?” You joke.

“Like an angel.” He says with a wink.

“More like a devil.” Rafayel mutters through gritted teeth.

Sylus lets out another breathy laugh. He pats Rafayel on the shoulder before sauntering away, leaving the VIP section.

“Madam, would you like your jacket checked?”

The waiter reappears and offers his hand to take your jacket. You shrug it off your shoulder and hand it to him.

“Yes, thank you!”

He nods and disappears to hang up your jacket. Rafayel kisses your shoulder. You lean against him and sip your champagne.

“Was this place a church?”

Rafayel leads you closer to the balcony and you look down at the crowd. You can see the whole bar, the DJ stand, the general sitting area - every corner is packed with people. 

“No, actually. Sylus had it built specifically to look like this. Hired an architect with a specialty in historical design and commissioned me to do the stained glass.”

“You designed the windows?”

He nods, craning his neck to look at the three windows above the DJ stand. The most prominent windows serve as the artistic centerpiece for the club, each window intricately designed featuring three creatures. The first appears to be a knight in golden armor surrounded by planets and stars. The knight fights against chains wrapped around its neck, raising a glowing sword poised to strike. The second a dark dragon, similar to the one you saw during your walk through the gallery. However, this one has what appears to be a massive hole in its chest where its heart should be. And the third is a merman, or maybe a siren. Its powerful tail wrapped around a broken ship mast, the sails torn and floating in bloody waves behind him. 

“They’re kind of tragic… Amazing, but… tragic.”

Rafayel stares at the windows, his hand falling from your waist to rest on the railing of the balcony. You place your hand over his and watch him for a moment. A pained expression crosses his face. He looks at the ground and shuffles his feet. 

“Do you wanna know why Sylus named this place Paradise?”

You lean against the railing and nod.

“He told me ‘even monsters deserve a paradise.’”

“I don’t understand…”

He turns to face you, the moonlight filtered through the stained glass glows around his figure. 

“Ever heard the saying ‘you’re the villain in someone’s story’?” You nod. “It’s kind of like that. Sometimes you’re the monster and you don’t want to be. But sometimes you do… want to be. Here, it doesn’t matter.”

He takes your hand and pulls you to him. His hips start to sway to the music and you bite your lip. He spins you around and holds your waist to dip you back. Once he brings you upright, you turn around and press your back against his chest. You mirror his movements, swaying your hips to the beat. He brings his hips forward and you grind your ass against his groin. He rests his hands on the front of your hips and dips his head down to kiss your shoulder. 

The beat quickens and your hips follow suit. You hear him groan softly in your ear and you reach your arm back to play with the soft curls that trail down the nape of his neck. You lean your head back on his shoulder and close your eyes. The music swells and the images from the windows flash through your mind. The golden knight, the dragon, the siren. Monsters to some, beautiful and regal to others. For a moment, you imagine them in this place, safe and free. 

“Do you want to see something?”

Rafayel’s voice breaks through the vision and you nod breathlessly. He takes your hand and you follow him through the ornate door, through the gallery and down the stairwell. At the base of the stairwell there is another door. A thumbpad above the handle suggests it’s most likely for staff. Rafayel places his thumb down and the pad glows green, the door clicks open. He looks over his shoulder at you.

“Perks of knowing the owner.” 

You follow him through the door and down a dark staircase, the door locking behind you. Fluorescent lights flicker as you descend deeper beneath the club. You are pulled through another door and gawk at just how massive this underground level is. Large round tables sit in each corner of the room, a circular bar at the center. 

Waitresses saunter around the room serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the patrons seated at the tables. From the entrance you can see playing cards laid out and it clicks. You’re in an underground poker den. You spot Sylus at one of the tables leaning back in his chair while he swirls the drink in his glass. Rafayel holds your hand as you approach Sylus’s table. Sylus smiles when he sees you approaching. 

“Welcome to The Abyss.”

Sylus stands and taps the shoulder of the man sitting next to him, he stands, places his cards down and walks to another table. Sylus pulls the chair back, motioning for you to take it. You hear Rafayel sigh and give his hand a squeeze. You sit down and you turn to see Rafayel place his hands on the shoulders of the stranger beside you. He tenses before tossing his cards down and quickly leaving the table. Rafayel is about to sit down when his phone rings. When he checks the screen, he gives you an apologetic look.

“I have to take this, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You nod and he walks to the bar before answering his phone. You’re curious why he had to walk away, but you’ll ask him later. You turn to face Sylus to find him staring at you. You lean back and meet his gaze, completely unaware of how the game at the table has stalled. 

“So, The Abyss?”

“Seemed fitting since so many people get swept away with greed or ill intentions when they’re down here.”

You laugh and lean towards him.

“I imagine it’s pretty easy to lose yourself when booze and Billie Holiday are involved.”

His face lights up when you recognize the artist, a genuine smile replacing his sarcastic smirk. 

“This album is one of my favorites.”

“Lady in Satin, nice choice.”

Sylus’s smile widens further and he rests his hand on the back of your chair. He’s failing to hide how giddy he is, and you’re excited to see this side of him.

“Not many people recognize the classics, I’m impressed.”

You smile and poke his chest.

“You’re not the only one with good taste. Rafayel told me you had this place built to look… like this… You hired a specialist in historical architecture?”

“I did and it was worth every penny. Do you think it’s offensive?”

You shake your head, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. 

“If anything, I think it’s interesting. I’ve never been to a nightclub in a cathedral before. Now I can say I have.”

A waitress places a martini in front of you, taking you by surprise. You nod at her as she walks away before picking up the glass. Sylus reaches out and takes the cocktail pick out of your drink. He eats your olive and winks at you. You push your lip out in a dramatic pout.

“How dare you, I wanted that!”

Sylus waves the cocktail pick at the waitress and you look over to watch her prepare something behind the counter. Rafayel leans against the bar nearby and shoots you a smile before mouthing a quick “sorry” and continuing his call. The waitress exits the bar and you spot a small bowl of olives on her tray.

“Sylus! I didn’t need –”

“While you’re here, you’ll get whatever you want, kitten.”

The nickname takes you by surprise and you cross your arms. The waitress sets the bowl down beside you and pats your shoulder.

“Don’t worry darlin’, he does this all the time. I had this ready before I brought your drink over.”

Sylus chuckles and the waitress pats your shoulder again before heading back to the bar. You teasingly punch Sylus’s arm.

“How did she know?”

“Aubrey is very perceptive. Is there anything else you’d like? Just tell me.”

“Tell him what?”

Rafayel’s voice surprises you, his hand rests on your shoulder as he sits. You shift in your seat and take a sip of your martini. You pucker your lips and reach for an olive, the saltiness hits the spot and you sigh. You drop another olive in the glass.

“Start a new game, deal these two in.” 

You stare at Sylus. 

“I doubt I can afford the buy in.”

Sylus tilts his head and looks past you at Rafayel. You turn to see he’s already pressed his card to the panel in front of you, buying you in for $10k in chips. You slap his hand.

“Rafayel!”

He presses his card to the panel in front of him and buys into the game himself. 

“Relax cutie, just beat me and you can pay me back.”

Oh. The alcohol coursing through your veins gives you the courage you need to keep a straight face. This will be fun. You pick at your fingernails in your lap and shrug your shoulders.

“Fine… fine. I’m already bought in, might as well try. But I don’t care about money. If I somehow win, I want something.”

Sylus leans forward, intrigued. Rafayel nods and hangs his arm over the back of the chair waiting for you to make your bet.

“If I win I get to… give you a tattoo.”

Rafayel’s brows shoot up and Sylus laughs loudly.

“A tattoo? Really?”

You nod and finish off your drink. Sylus lifts a finger towards the bar and the waitress begins to prepare another drink for you.

“What do I get if I win?”

Rafayel leans closer, his fingers gliding along your arm making goosebumps rise. 

“What do you want?”

Rafayel’s expression darkens and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve always wanted to try photography… but I need a model.”

You feel your cheeks flush, the implications clear when he drops his hand to your thigh. You narrow your eyes and flash a smile. You’re almost tempted to throw the game now. 

“Okay. Deal.”

He extends his hand and you shake it firmly. Sylus nods at the dealer and they begin passing out cards. You hold your breath and pray for a decent hand. You’ll bluff your way to victory if all else fails. 

The cards slide across the table into a neat stack in front of you. You place your hand over your cards and carefully lift the corners to check. Jack of Hearts and King of Hearts, decent. It’s time to overreact, Rafayel doesn’t know you spent almost every lunch period in school playing poker with your best friend. Caleb never let you win, he forced you to improve your skills and when you finally beat him the satisfaction made up for every loss. 

“The game is Texas Hold ‘Em, no limits. Place your bets.”

The first two men fold and Sylus tosses two chips to the center of the table. You tap your fingers on your cards, trying to appear thoughtful. You pick up two chips and toss them in.

“Call.”

Rafayel follows suit and the dealer flips the first card. A Jack of Clubs. A two or three pair is possible, if you are willing to risk it. The dealer looks at Sylus, who hasn’t stopped staring at you. You can feel his heated gaze and your ear burns. He tosses another two chips in, has he even looked at his cards? You call as does Rafayel.

Another card is revealed, a King of Spades. A two pair, it was something to stand on. The final card would determine if you needed to put on an act or just sit back and enjoy your win. Sylus tosses five chips in and you purposefully roll your shoulders, trying to appear tense, as if the bet was getting a little too high.

You call and turn to face Rafayel, scanning his face for any signs of a tell. He’s all smiles as he taps the center of his forehead with his index finger, considering the bet. He pushes his remaining chips to the center of the table. 

“All in.”

You raise a brow, allowing him to see your surprise, but not revel in it. You look over at Sylus who is finally taking a look at his cards. You doubt he will have any tells but you examine him anyway. The way his brows furrow, his chin tilts up and he drags his finger along the edge of the cards. You get the feeling he doesn’t care about the money, he just wants to see how your bet with Rafayel plays out. You’re still considering his motives when he pushes his chips towards the pile.

“Call.”

Both men stare at you now. Was this hand worth it? Is this what Sylus meant by losing oneself to greed? Wanting to win so badly you’ll risk it all? You close your eyes, letting the muscles in your face relax.

“Call.”

Rafayel chuckles quietly as you push your chips to the center. The dealer turns over the final card and you hold your breath. A fucking Jack of Diamonds. You have a Full House. There was no sequential order to the cards so they couldn’t have Four of a Kind since you had a King card yourself. Best they could do is a three pair… You won. You finally lift your eyes and peek at your cards again, looking “concerned.” 

“Showdown.”

The dealer leans onto the table to watch the reveal. Sylus flips his first, an Ace of Clubs and an Ace of Diamonds. A Two Pair wasn’t bad, especially if you and Rafayel were bluffing. Sylus leans back and crosses his legs, bringing his glass to his lips and sipping slowly. 

You look at Rafayel, he’s tapping his forehead with his finger again, his smile flashing the gem adhered to his tooth. 

“Last chance cutie. Say the word and maybe I’ll let you off the hook.”

He is still tapping his forehead. This must be his tell. Adorable. You’ll certainly use this to your advantage in the future.

“Not a chance.”

“Okay… Show at the same time then?”

You nod and Rafayel picks up his cards. He counts down and you hesitate, letting him lay his cards down first - give him a single moment of pride. A Jack of Spades and a 4 of Clubs. Three of a Kind, enough to beat Sylus, but not enough to beat you. When you lay your cards down Sylus claps.

“Very impressive performance, sweetie.”

You smile at Sylus before finally turning to face Rafayel, who is already pouting. 

“A Full House. You had a goddamn Full House?!”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. He runs a hand through his hair.

“You played me.”

You take his hand and give it a squeeze. He yanks his hand free before looping his arm around your neck and pulling you into a tight hug. His face is buried in your neck.

“Guess I still have a lot to learn about you cutie. Hope you’re ready for an interrogation.”

The sound of shoes approaching makes you pull back. You look over your shoulder and see a man in a suit leaning down to speak into Sylus’ ear. Sylus nods and as soon as the man turns to leave he stands and motions for you and Rafayel to follow him. 

He takes you into a backroom with several shelving units packed with liquor. A cozy sofa and mini-fridge sit in the corner next to a row of lockers. Sylus begins to pace and Rafayel straddles the arm of the couch.

“What happened?”

“We found our man, but he slipped away. Turns out he is undercover, but we don’t know who he works for exactly. My team lost track of him when he hopped on a bike out back. They got his plate number and they’re going through camera footage for a clear shot of his face.”

You cross your arms and step closer to Sylus.

“Can I have the plate number?”

Sylus looks at you with a rare expression, shock. 

“As a hunter I have access to certain things and maybe I can get more information for you.”

“Sweetie, we have ways of getting that intel ourselves you shouldn’t –”

You hold up a hand, silencing him.

“A way that won’t set off any alarms? As a hunter, I’m technically a member of law enforcement, so doing a routine search for a plate won’t raise suspicion. I want to help, so let me.”

Sylus tucks his hands in his pockets and steps even closer, his essence flooding your senses. The scent of whiskey and vanilla, the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off of his silk button up, he commands attention and you can’t help but stare. 

“Alright.” 

He grabs a napkin from the top of the mini fridge and takes a pen out of his breast pocket. He looks at you and twirls his finger. You squint at him and he repeats the motion, you realize he’s telling you to turn around. You slowly turn and he places the napkin on your back and begins writing.

“Are you using me to–”

He shushes you and when you feel the pen stop you turn to face him. He hands the napkin to you.

“We’ll meet mid-week. Just be sure not to dig your claws in too deep, kitten.”

You can feel Rafayel’s eyes on you, but you dare to step closer.

“Okay, what’s with this ‘kitten’ bullshit?”

Sylus chuckles.

“You just remind me of a mischievous kitten, that’s all.”

You put your hands on your hips and try your best to glare at this mountain of a man.

“Okay, how about we try… Bakeneko? Still a kitten, but twice as fierce.”

Great, he was referring to you as a monster cat, known for being little menaces to those around them. You should be angry, but instead you feel your heart swell with pride. To have your own yokai alias made you feel like you’re a part of their world. You decide to concede for now, the nickname could be worse. 

“Fine.”

Sylus laughs and pulls his phone out, tapping it twice before a knock at the door makes you jump. The man who spoke to Sylus at the table enters and hands Sylus a manila folder. He immediately hands it to you. You open it and see a short list of information regarding the individual including the license plate number. You close it and stare at the napkin in your other hand. You look up at Sylus.

“Wait… then what…?”

You open the napkin and see a phone number. Sylus extends his hand and you’re too dumbfounded by his forwardness to register your own actions. You extend your hand and another gentle kiss graces your knuckles. 

“I’ll speak to you soon, Bakeneko.”

Sylus leaves the room and you turn to face Rafayel. A subtle pout plays on his lips and you quickly lift his chin to kiss it away. He sighs and rests his hands on your hips. 

“Can we get out of here?”

You nod and give him a devious grin. He shrinks back and narrows his eyes at you.

“You have a tattoo appointment after all.”

The bell above the door at Lemuria Studios chimes loudly as you and Rafayel stumble inside. Rafayel has you on his back, holding your legs while your arms wrap around his neck. He kicks the door closed behind him and turns around to press his thumb to the keypad locking it again.

As he walks through the studio your heels slip off your feet and clatter to the floor. He sets you down when he reaches the door to his private studio and unlocks it. You shuffle inside and start examining the various machines and tools. 

“So what are ya lookin’ to get today sir?”

Rafayel laughs and moves you to the side to start preparing a station for you. He quickly washes his hands and puts on fresh gloves. You watch him line a metal tray with plastic wrap and secure it with tape. He pulls out two squeeze bottles from a lower cabinet, wrapping them with plastic wrap as well before setting on the tray. He grabs a new disposable razor from a drawer and secures the guard before setting it down. Taking a popsicle stick, he dips into a Vaseline jar and dabs it on the tray, placing small dots close by. He sets two ink caps on the tiny Vaseline dots, the caps sinking into the gel like glue. 

You hop up to sit on the counter next to him while he works and you lean down to kiss his temple.

“What colors do you want cutie?”

You look at the bin he pulls out of the cabinet and sift through the bottles. 

“Let’s just go with black, I’ll work up the courage to try color another time.”

“Oh, another time? Is this your new hobby?”

He pours black ink into the caps before closing the bottle and returning the bin to the cabinet. He places the new needle, still in its packaging, on the counter while he does a quick inspection of his tattoo machine. He unwraps the container and carefully removes the needle, sliding it in place. He pulls a small bag out of a drawer and drapes it over the gun, securing it with hot pink grip tape. After connecting the power cord, he kicks over the foot pedal and sets the machine on the tray. He sets the tray on the mobile cart next to him and rolls it over to the stool. 

He points at the sink and you hop off the counter. As you wash your hands, a sudden wave of anxiety hits you. He’s actually going to let you tattoo him? What if you hurt him? What if it’s ugly? Will he be mad? What are you doing?

“I think your hands are clean…”

You look down to see your hands are red from how hard you were scrubbing them. You dry them with a paper towel and he holds out the box of gloves for you. As you tug on a pair of gloves you watch him clean the chair he’ll sit on. When he finally looks up at you his smile instantly falls.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure this is okay?”

He places his hands on your shoulders and kisses your forehead. 

“I am.”

“But what if it’s ugly or I mess up or –”

“You wanna know how I see tattoos? It’s like a photograph, it takes you back to a previous version of yourself and you get to remember who you were and how far you’ve come. 50 years from now, I will look at the tattoo you gave me and remember this time in my life. And I’ll remember how cute you were worrying about giving me an ugly tattoo.”

You look at your feet, overwhelmed with your racing thoughts. The question you’ve been dying to ask gets trapped in your throat. This isn’t the time or place. Rafayel gently holds your chin and makes you look at him. 

“What are you thinking?”

“What if you regret it?”

His eyes soften as begins to understand your fear. He lets go of your chin and turns to the counter, opening a drawer. You hear him moving things around for a moment before turning around and holding a pen. He cleans the pen with a wipe and hands it to you. You realize it’s a tattoo pen, he used a similar one to draw the finer details of your tattoo before going in with the needle. He shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it on the counter before sitting down on the padded bed and folding his hands in his lap.

“A tattoo is a moment, and in this moment, there’s nothing I want more than your artwork on my body. Okay, well… there is another thing, but we probably shouldn’t do that in my studio.”

He winks at you and you almost chuck the pen at his head.

“Also… I will never regret knowing you.”

Your eyes water and you roll your neck in an attempt to hide the wave of emotions that just crashed over you. How did he know? You walk over to him and uncap the pen. 

“Where do you want it, pretty boy?”

He starts to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his torso. He lays back on the table and places a hand behind his head. With his other hand he points to his hip, right above the waistband of his pants. Your eyes widen and you feel how very dry your mouth has become.

“O-okay.”

You use your foot to tug the stool over and you sit, placing your elbows on the edge of the table and staring at his hip. 

“You have to clean and shave the area before drawing anything. Use the green bottle first, then shave, then the clear one.”

You follow his instructions, cleaning his skin and gliding the razor over a small patch of skin. As you do the final cleaning step you bite your lip, you knew what you wanted to draw but doubted your skills. You take a deep breath and begin lightly drawing the outline of your design. You make several adjustments using a makeshift eraser of paper towel dipped in the clear cleanser. Rafayel doesn’t move, he lets you doodle and brainstorm for over an hour. Finally, you sit back and smile.

“Do you want to look at it before I start?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. 

“Let’s keep it a surprise.”

You pick up the tattoo gun and stare at it like you’ve never seen one before. You clear your throat and gently step on the pedal hearing the machine buzz to life.

“It’s not as scary as it looks.”

You look up to see Rafayel still has his eyes closed. 

“Go slow, focus on drawing straight small lines at first. You don’t have to push, just let the machine do the work. Use the paper towel to clear the excess ink. You’ve got this. Oh, and dip your pinkie in the Vaseline, it’ll keep your stencil from smudging.”

You hold the machine with a firm hand and dip the tip in the ink cap. You follow Rafayel’s advice and dip the side of your pinkie in the Vaseline before resting the side of your palm on his stomach. You cautiously draw your first line and wipe at the spot with a paper towel. You’re pleased to see the line is dark and relatively straight. You giggle and dip the needle in the ink cap continuing your work.

Rafayel remains completely still. His steady breathing keeps you calm. With each line, you become more and more confident. 

“Let me know if you need more ink.”

“I’m good. I wish I could do some shading, but I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

Rafayel chuckles. You set down the tattoo gun and wipe it down one last time. 

“Okay… I think I’m done.”

Rafayel opens his eyes and sits up. You stand from the stool and watch him stride to the mirror. He stands close and looks between the mirror and his skin. The tattoo itself is more “cutsie” compared to the more intricate artwork he has covering his skin. A small fan-tailed fish floats above a kitten on their back. The small kitten has its paws extended towards the fish, its tail curled and a tiny smile under its button nose. 

“I wanted to add bubbles, but they’d just look like circles without shading so…”

Rafayel turns and grabs your face with both hands, he kisses you hard. His hands drop from your face to your hips. You sigh into his mouth and he forces himself to pull back. 

“It’s amazing. I would never have guessed this was your first tattoo. How about this, I’ll add some shading to it for you, yea?”

You nod and reach for the bandage Rafayel laid out on the counter. You press the bandage to his hip and use medical tape to secure it. He moves the tray to the counter and kicks the stool into the corner. As soon as you peel your gloves off, Rafayel’s hands are all over you. He pulls you back to him and drags his fingers down your arms, lifting your hands to his shoulders. He dives back in, capturing your lips with his own. He takes a step back and you follow his lead, he backs you against the padded table across the room.

His fingers fiddle with the knot holding the scarf around your chest. You feel the fabric loosen and slowly fall away. The cool air against your bare chest makes your nipples harden and you lean into Rafayel’s warmth. With his chest against yours, you feel his heart pounding. His nipple rings rub against your sensitive peaks and your breathy moans fill the room. He runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back, damn near lying on the table. 

You swiftly undo his belt and he kicks his pants down his legs and into a corner. Your hands are just dipping down the front of his boxers when he grabs your wrist.

“Turn around.”

His commanding voice takes you by surprise. Rafayel loved to switch up positions in the bedroom, but he usually prefers when you take the lead. It seems tonight he was worked up for some reason. You make a mental note to ask him about it later, for now you can only focus on how he unbuckles your belt and tugs your pants down with fervor. 

“I thought you said… we shouldn't do this in your studio…”

He silences you once his hand wraps around you and he fingers your clit, he traces circles slowly. You whine and push your hips back. He leans against you, his chest pressed to your back. He places open mouth kisses to your shoulder and up your neck, his voice is barely above a whisper. 

“I want you to know… I will spend every hour… of every day proving to you… that I will never regret knowing you.”

His cock presses against your entrance he begins rolling his hips forward, dragging his cock through your slick cunt. You let your head fall forward back, your forehead resting on the table. He runs his tip over your clit with his piercing. 

“Rafayel… fuck… please!”

He continues teasing you for another moment before you feel that perfect stretch that only his cock can provide. Your chest heaves and a guttural groan erupts from Rafayel’s throat. He lets go of your hips to hold onto the table. He’s halfway in when you feel your knees give out, Rafayel wraps an arm around you and thrusts his hips forward filling you completely.

“Right there oh god oh god yes Rafayel yes!”

He presses his face against your back and lets out a low growl. You know he’s close so you hold your breath and press your hips back. He suddenly pulls out and turns you around. He hikes your leg up over his hip before burying himself into your tight heat once again. You cling to him, your fingernails digging into his upper back. He gasps and he throws his head back. He finally lays you back on the table, one of his arms tucked under you. He grips your thigh and looks down at you with hooded eyes. Sweat drips down his cheek dripping onto your chest. 

“Shit shit shiiiiit baby I need to –”

He’s cut off with the sound of a bell ringing. The bell above the front door. You hadn’t even realized what time it was, early morning sunlight was just starting to filter through the windows. Rafayel bites his lip and slows his movements for a moment. You hear footsteps moving across the hardwood floors and the jingle of keys. You look over his shoulder and stare at the door, trying to steady your breathing. You’re about to uncross your ankles and move away when Rafayel rams his hips forward. 

“Raf!” You whisper yell.

You glare at him but his expression remains the same. His mouth covers yours in an attempt to silence you and your eyes roll back. A knock brings both of you to a halt. 

“Rafayel? Are you in there?”

Thomas, the studio manager, stands just outside the door and knocks again. Rafayel lifts his head and slowly rolls his hips, you close your eyes and try to keep your building orgasm at bay until Thomas is gone. But as Rafayel continues his movements, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from crying out. So you lunge forward and sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Rafayel shouts, not in pain, but rather surprise. There’s another knock on the door. 

“Rafayel?”

Rafayel slams his hand against the table, making the legs squeak against the floor. His cock twitches and you squeeze your thighs against his waist.

“Yeah… yes, sorry I stubbed my toe. Fuck!”

Your teeth sink deeper until you taste something metallic. He drags his hips back until only his tip remains tucked in your tight heat. He rams his hips forward and as soon as his piercing hits your g-spot you come. The sudden burst of warmth gushes over his cock and down his thighs. Your orgasm makes you bite down harder causing his release to spill into you.

A loud scoff from Thomas is heard through the door. 

“You know you can just say you’re fucking your girlfriend, right? Her heels are in the lobby.”

You unlock your jaw and release his shoulder, your head hits the table with a quiet thud. 

“Sorry Thomas…”

Your breathy apology makes Rafayel chuckle. He rests his forehead against yours as his cock softens inside you. He kisses the tip of your nose and looks down at you with such reverence your eyes start to water again. He kisses your cheeks and when a tear falls, he kisses it away humming softly. 

“Just clean the room before opening, please. I’m going to get another coffee.”

You hear his footsteps fade and the bell above the front door chime. Rafayel slips out of you and picks you up, setting you on the table. He runs his tongue over his labret piercing, sucking into his mouth. This cute little habit of his usually means he’s overthinking. You lift your hand and tug on his bottom lip with your thumb. He releases his piercing and sighs.

“We’ve never talked about that…”

“About what?”

“Using titles… like that.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and he steps forward between your legs.

“Do you want to use titles?”

“I’d… love to call you my girlfriend, but do you want to call me your boyfriend?”

You cup his cheeks in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“My boyfriend.”

You kiss the tip of his nose.

“My boyfriend, Rafayel.”

You kiss his left cheek and then his right.

He leans into your touch, savoring each kiss.

“Yes, I’d love to call you mine.”

Before he can pull you into another kiss, your eyes catch the swollen red spot on his shoulder. You see your bite mark, a small drop of blood trickling down to his chest. 

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…”

He looks down at his shoulder and wipes the blood away with his thumb. 

“I’m fine! You were just marking your territory.”

You slap his chest and he pulls you into a hug, his hands rub your back and you melt into his embrace. To think a few weeks ago you were on this table getting a tattoo and now you’re naked, holding onto your boyfriend. A sexy tattoo artist who has an illegal hobby of street racing his high end motorcycle and is much more complex than you could ever imagine. You’re not sure how, but the unexpected direction your life has taken has only brought you joy. And you’re excited to see where life with Rafayel takes you.

(AN Part 2: I don't know how to play poker, so I hope this is accurate! Also, mini spoiler for Part 3 - more crowfish smut. Smile.)

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @spacegroteske @namjoonseuphoria @celestialforce @rafshottestgf @oxamarok @withering-dream @zaynessbeloved @animecrazy76 @yournextdoorhousewitch @hauntedbysmut @addiglessthanthree @4ttack-ur-heart

[pretentiouswreckingball]

losing my mind

Lying on his side of the bed, Regulus reaches for his face. His fingers try to brush James' cheek but they go straight through him. Regulus lets out a shuddering breath.

"You aren't real, are you?"

James tries to hold his outreach hand but just like Regulus, his fingers go through it, leaving Regulus’ arm full of goosebumps.

“I’m sorry,” James murmurs with a miserable look on his face that breaks Regulus’ heart all over again. 

“Am I dreaming of you again?”

James looks hesitant before he says, “not exactly.”

Regulus nods, like he was expecting as much. He also knows what James is not saying. “Just losing my mind, then.”

James’ eyes are full of sadness. “You’re just having a bad night, that’s all.”

“Yeah, a bad night alright,” Regulus' laugh comes out all wrong, high and bitter.  “I drink a little too much and now I’m hallucinating my missing husband again.”

“I’m not missing Regulus,” James says, trying to catch his gaze. “I’m dead.”

Regulus looks away. “Sure James, whatever you say."

“Reg, you need to stop."

“‘m not doing anything." Regulus mumbles, closing his eyes trying to keep the hurt away but James' voice sounds loud on his head.

“It's been months and they haven't found anything, you know what that means.”

"Shut up, James."

"Regulus, you have to let me go."

“Like hell I’m going to let you go." Regulus feels a lump on his throat.

“I’m not real, Regulus.”

“Yeah you are, you’re right here.”

“Regulus.”

“James.”

James looks pleadingly at him. “You need to sleep. You haven't slept properly in days."

“But if I do that you’ll be gone when I wake up," his vision becomes blurry by the unshed tears. “I’m not letting that happen again, I’m not letting you out of my sight, not again.”

“I’m not really here." James sounds so heartbroken by this admission that Regulus's heart hurts.

“If you keep talking to me it feels like you are.”

“You are talking to yourself.” James sounds so heartbroken by this admission that Regulus' heart hurts.

Regulus closes his eyes again, blocking out the words. “You can’t say things like that."

“Why?”

“Because if you're cruel, I can't pretend you are here anymore and I don't want to stop pretending," he whispers. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

But when Regulus opens his eyes again, James is not there anymore. He never was, to begin with.

This is one of the scenes that didn't make it in the way home mostly because I didn't know where to put it lol but I liked it so might as well share it, you know?

[miraclemaya]

MADOKA - “I’m thinking I’ll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?”

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?

GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT IT’S IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madoka’s tastes better than anyone — and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.

“I will have the same as you, Madoka.”

“I’m not feeling very hungry.”

[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own

CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - You’ve eaten here before, you’re pretty sure. Was it Loop 32… no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No… that’s not right. You’ve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.

THE ANGEL - It’s okay, Homura-chan! I don’t mind if you haven’t eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if it’s not perfect, that’s okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-

FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isn’t immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, don’t you?

THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think that’s a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!

HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.

MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US

WITCH’S NIGHT - Is… is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?

MADOKA - “Um, are you okay, Homura-chan?”

MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US

“I’m going to kill myself.”

“I’m so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?”

Isn’t there anything else you can say?

YOU - Isn’t there anything else you can say?

THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. It’s high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.

CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.

THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

There. There has to be better options than this.

YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.

MOE INSTINCT - I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

YOU - “I’m going to kill myself.”

MADOKA - Madoka’s face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.

GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.

MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

MADOKA - “I’m so sorry, Homura-chan. Please don’t do that. I… I really care about you and so does everyone else.” Madoka’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.

DAMAGED MORALE -4

CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didn’t land. You’ve gotten away with that before, you’re pretty sure.

SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and there’s a Japan that it’s actually illegal to not commit suicide in.

FALLING SAND - You’ve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. She’s really worried about you, you know.

STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madoka’s heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.

THE ANGEL - Yeah! It’s okay Homura-chan. Just explain what’s been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, it’s important to eat a full meal!

YOU - “Ah, sorry Madoka. I was… overwhelmed with choice, and my… brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.”

MADOKA - “Um, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chan….”

CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. It’s worked in three different loops, it should work here.

RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.

YOU - “Is there anything else you’d like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.”

MADOKA - “Uh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?”

Order 10000 yen worth of tempura

Order 1000 yen worth of tempura

Order 100 yen worth of tempura

YOU - “Excuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.”

HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.

THE ANGEL - T-that’s probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!

MADOKA - Madoka doesn’t say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.

HEALED MORALE +1

RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madoka’s eyes, furthering along one of your goals.

THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.

Thank you.

Why don’t you hate me?

YOU - Why don’t you hate me?

THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.

Thank you.

THE ANGEL - You’re welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

His

Summary: Javi can't get enough of you (aka idk how to summarize this other than it's pwp whoops)

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

Warnings: ... again, this is straight up pwp, unprotected p in v sex, rough(er) sex, breeding kink (I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! It's physically impossible to not!!), praise kink, big, nasty creampie, cum play, 1 use of daddy and papí (but like, that's the goal), an ass smack, prone bone and the one position from s2e3 of Narcos because I say so!!! also sweet, tooth rotting fluff because I don't know how to write any other way

A/N: She's nothing, if not consistent, your honor 🤠 You'll have to pry Javier Peña and his big, fat breeding kink out of my cold, dead hands before I stop writing about it!!!!!! Figured what better way to break a hiatus than letting the ovulation demons do the lords work for me to post some smut on tumblr dot com, hope y'all enjoy!!!

Never Too Late Masterlist

“Fuck, Javi!” 

The only thing that’s keeping you from waking up your neighbors with the volume of your moans is the way Javi has you pressed against the mattress, muffling the sound of you screaming his name as he pounds into you, over and over. 

You swear he could smell it on you from the second he walked through the door, how you had been craving him all day. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make you ache with unbearable need and want. From the moment he left for work this morning, you were counting down the hours until he got home so you could climb him like a goddamn tree. 

But then again, how can anyone blame you when he’s the one who instigated it in the first place? 

“I swear to god, when I get home, I’m not letting you out of the fucking bed tonight ‘till I knock you up.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise, Javi?” 

“Both.” 

Javi’s always been a man of his word, but with the way he’s fucking you right now, it makes you wonder if he’s ever planning on letting you out of the bed again. 

“That’s it baby girl, let me hear it.” 

You can feel the way the words rumble in his chest, pressed against your back as he fucks into you, deeper and harder with each thrust. The grip around your intertwined fingers tighten, practically melting you into the bed with the weight of his broad body is pinning you down, caging you beneath him. 

Heat is radiating off him, the tacky sheen of sweat pooling where your skin meets, Javi’s hips flushed against the meat of your ass. He’s already got you three orgasms deep, but there’s just something addictive about Javi that always has you begging for more, desperate to cum around his cock over and over again until you have nothing left to give. 

“Oh my god- fuck. Fuck, Javi, I want more baby, please. Fuck me harder- oh fuck-” 

You swear you can feel his smirk creeping into the corners of his cheeks as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in the mess he’s already made you, and yet, you still can’t seem to get enough of him. 

“You want more, hermosa? Let me hear you, baby.” Javi coos, purposely slowing his pace down just enough to make you whimper, quietly laughing to himself at the way he can feel you back your ass up against his hips, trying to keep yourself as full of him as you can. 

“I want it, I want more, baby, please.” You whine, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the devilish grin Javi has plastered across his face. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take everything I have to give you? Let me fill you up until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ stick?” He groans, the thought of fucking himself so deep inside you that nine months from now, he’ll be the reason for your growing family, igniting something indescribably primal in him. 

“Yes! Yes, please, fuck- I’ll take all of it!” 

It’s borderline pathetic how many octaves your voice has climbed as you beg him for more, a pitch and volume so loud and high you nearly startle yourself with your response. You can hear Javi sigh and curse under his breath. You’re not sure if it’s because having you like this drives him crazy, or if having you like this drives him so crazy, he’s worried he’ll bust right then and there if he doesn’t control himself. 

Your response has him shifting behind you, sitting back on his knees and gripping his fingers into the meat of your sides to force your bottom half up, one hand letting go to smack your ass just hard enough for your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. 

You’re not sure how, but the new position has him feeling even fuller, stretching you out to the point of pleasure filled sobs as he starts to pound against your g-spot, each thrust rougher than the last. 

You’re so wet that the sound of him sliding in and out of your cunt is almost as loud as the noise of his skin slapping against yours. That, combined with the lewd panting and moaning heaving from each of your chests, has the room sounding like you could easily give any porno ever produced a run for its money. 

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Always so fucking wet and tight for me. Whose pussy is this, baby?” Javi asks, his once smug demeanor quickly dissipating as he chokes out his question through gritted teeth, so drunk on you he can barely think straight. 

“Yours! Fuck, fuck fuck- It’s yours, Javi.” You sob, fisting at your bedsheets so tightly, you’re convinced it won’t be long until your knuckles turn white. 

“Fucking right, it is. Fuck you so full of me that I knock you up, make sure- mierda- make sure everyone knows you’re all mine. That what you want, Mami?” 

“Yes, y-yes! Oh fuck- yes! ” 

Javi gets one more smack at your ass before he reaches around to scoop you up from your front, draping his arm across your chest to flush it with his back, never letting the pace of his hips falter. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re positive you’d be limp, so all consumed by pleasure that it’s engulfed every inch of your body. to keep yourself upright. 

His free arm snakes around to find your clit, whimpering as the pads of his fingers rub tight circles around the bundle of nerves. The undeniable tingle at the base of your spine is beginning to build again, the all too familiar clamping of your cunt around Javi’s cock growing tighter by the second. 

You can all but feel him in your stomach, every inch of him sunk as deep as you can take him, backing your ass into him to counter every snap of his hips. You shoot your hand behind you, digging your nails into whatever part of his thigh you can find to brace yourself on as he fucks into relentlessly, only egged on by the fact he knows how close you are. 

“You got one more for me, baby?” Javi mewls, nipping at your neck while the hot words of his breath dance across your skin. “One more time before I cum so fucking deep inside you?” 

You’re not sure how you even have the capacity to form words, nodding your head in compliance as you try your best to string together something comprehensible as the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“Y-yes, oh fuck- want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me, please, papí.“ 

“Fuck me.” Javi huffs under his breath, furrowing his brow in an intense focus to keep from fulfilling your request preemptively. “Cum for me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock, and I promise I will.” 

It only takes a few more frantic strokes before you’re collapsing around him, orgasm shooting through your body with such radiating pleasure, you’re not even sure you’re on this earth anymore. The way he’s pinning your nearly limp body to his, pounding into you relentlessly to chase his own high is almost too much, but you’ll take it. You’ll take everything he has to give because it means that you’re his. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi coos, sliding the hand that had been rubbing at your clit up your chest, stopping to wrap around your jaw, just firm enough to dip your head back to rest against his shoulder. “My good fucking girl.” 

His head is buried in the crook of your neck, pants and moans muffled against your skin, growing louder with each snap of his hips, each one more reckless and sloppy than the last. You can barely make out the words he’s mumbling into your ear, his brain just as jumbled as yours as he nears his finish line. 

“I have so much fucking cum for you. Gonna fuck it so deep in you, it’ll- oh fuck- it’ll fucking take. Fill up this pussy with every last- shit- every last fucking drop. Fuck!” 

It’s a low groan that rumbles in his chest first, followed by a strangled whimper that dies somewhere in the back of his throat as his hips stutter, hot ropes of his spend spilling inside of you while he cums. You know he doesn’t dare let a drop go to waste, that he’ll keep his cock stuffed inside your cunt until you’ve milked him of every ounce he has to give. 

And fuck, he wasn’t lying when he said plenty to give. 

You can’t even tell where your body ends and his begins, melded together as one, his length nestled so deep inside you, you can feel all of him pulsing while his seed overflows, leaking out pussy and dripping down your thighs. You know there’s nothing more Javi wants than to keep every last drop inside your cunt, but the best he can do with how much he has to give is to keep fucking it into you, forcing hips to thrust deeper in sync with the heavy heaves of his chest until you’re all but sobbing. 

“It’s- fuck- it’s so much, Javi, fuck-” You whimper, jaw slack at the slick, sticky mess pooling around the base of his cock. 

“Jesus, fuck- I know, baby. I know, but you’re taking me so fucking well.” He coos, softly kissing your neck and shoulder before shifting your body to lay you down, somehow remembering to grab a pillow from his side of the bed to prop under your hips before your back hits the mattress. 

You hiss at the loss of Javi inside you, the sharp breath quickly replaced by a gasp as you the next plop of cum dripping out of your hole caught by Javi’s fingers, sliding up your soaked folds to gently press back into your cunt. He uses the last bit of strength he has to part your legs just enough to make room for his head, leaning down just enough to pepper soft kisses to your clit, trailing up your stomach and chest until he collapses next to you. 

The both of you lay there for a moment in silence, nothing left to fill the room but the post-orgasmic haze you’ve left behind, catching your breath as you try to let your brain sync back up to your body. 

“Javi… Javi, holy fuck.” You huff, the corners of your cheeks turning upwards in a cheeky grin as you roll your head to face him, giggling at the wide eyed, fucked out expression his face still can’t seem to shake. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi sighs, shaking his head in disbelief before running his hand through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair, prying them from the damp mat they’ve made on his forehead.  

“You came so hard, Jav.” You softly giggle, scooting close enough to lay your cheek against his chest, smiling as he drapes his arm across your back to pull you in closer. 

“Yeah, I know. Fuck, I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.” Javi smirks, fingers drawing gentle patterns on the warm skin of your back. 

“Trying to knock me up really turns you on that much, huh?” You tease, the two of you laughing like you didn’t already know the answer, or that he couldn’t say the same for you. “It’s hot.” 

“Yeah?” Javi asks, biting down on the plush of his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Mhmmm. You’re already about to be the hottest DILF known to man, makes it that much hotter how badly you want to be a daddy.” 

Even though Javi rolls his eyes at you, trying his best to hide the boyish grin stretched between his cheeks. You snicker at the pink flush of his face, leaning over to leave a lingering kiss on his lips, both your smiles meeting each other’s mouths. 

“Fuck me.” Javi sighs, quietly laughing to himself, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“Again? Already? Hate to break it to ya, but I think it’s safe to say you’ve got nothing left in the tank there, Jav.” 

This eye roll makes him grin even harder, supring on your giggles with the ticklish kisses he pecks across your body as payback for your awful joke. 

“You’re such a fucking dork. God, I love you.” 

“Love you more, idiot.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper — jake

jake x reader

getting your cherry popped by the sweet, popular athletic boy. who is also your best friend

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

[sorry not proof read]

“jake i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?”

your eyes never looked away from jake sim. athletic, popular and smart. triple kill.

and he was your best friend.

-

studying. that’s all it was supposed to be. jake sim, your best friend, helping you with your college physics course. then it somehow turned into a human anatomy lesson. all because jake couldn’t leave his phone alone for 5 seconds and was sexting a girl during the study sessions.

“jake—yah! would you pay attention? i cannot fail this exam!” you scolded, slamming your pencil down on your notebook.

jake cleared his throat, awkwardly and embarrassingly putting down his cell phone, screen to the table. “sorry.” he apologized with a mumble.

“what’s so interesting about whoever you’re texting that you’d rather do that than help your bestie pass her physics exam?” you pouted, looking at jake with a frown and puppy dog eyes.

“oh well you see—,” jake began, but then his phone buzzed once before. he went to pick up the phone, but you snatched it before he could.

“wait, you—,” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence of, “wait, you might not want to.”

you screeched, face screwing in disgust as you threw his phone to the couch. then, you whipped your head to jake in disbelief, huffing.

“i can’t believe you! you seriously are sexting another girl while helping me?”

“hey, i’m sorry okay? but she sent me—,”

you held up your hand to stop him. “don’t want to hear it jake.” you sighed. “can you stop being a horn dog for like, two hours? i know you have a high sex drive, but i was hoping soccer practice would’ve tired you out.”

you weren’t mad at his sex drive. heck, if he needed to fuck like his grades depended on it, then so be it. you weren’t the one to stop him. but it did annoy you he couldn’t just turn it off long enough to help you study.

“if you can’t focus, i’ll ask someone else to help.”

“like who? jay?” jake laughed, joking.

“heeseung.” you smirked, knowing heeseung was just as smart as jake. and although jake and heeseung were friends, those two also had a competitive streak against one another. especially when it came to academics and girls.

you also knew jake was protective over you. all the boys did, but his was extra. you knew he probably warned the guys that you were off limits.

jake scoffed. “absolutely not, he’ll help you pass with an a minus at max.”

“and you?” you asked crossing your arms.

jake smiled. “i can get you that a plus.”

“jake, you can’t make miracles happen. i just need a minimum b average.”

“you know i like to go above and beyond, baby.” he winked, causing you to laugh.

“let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“okay. only because my phone disappeared in the couch.” he pouted. “she’s not gonna be happy i left her dry.”

you waved it off. “pretty sure she has a box full of toys to help her out.”

“do you?” jake asked.

your head slowly turned to jake as you was writing down a problem. “do i what?” you looked at him confused.

“have a box full of toys?”

your eyes went wide. “oh, uh, let’s focus on the studying!” you rushed out and turned back to your text book, aggressively poking at jake’s book.

after that, during the study session, jake would steal glances at you, wondering if his best friend did have a box full of toys. or even at least one toy.

jake has known you since you were six. growing up next door to one another in australia, it was fun.

beach days, arcade days, walking to school and back home together. watching him freak out over bugs that you had to be the one to get rid of.

you told jake everything. well, almost everything. he was open and free about his sex life with you. however, you weren’t the same.

jake can’t recall you telling him about times you’ve been with a guy in a sexual way. let alone even kissed a guy.

an hour and a half passed, before you two went off topic once again. your brain was fried, and you couldn’t imagine looking at another problem.

“im done for the night, i cant.” you closed your book dramatically, leaning against your couch, head thrown back.

“have you kissed a guy yet?”

you lifted your head. “jake, where did that even come from?”

jake shrugged. “just thinking about how you know so much about my sex life, but i know nothing about yours. let alone if you’ve even kissed a guy.”

“i just don’t find the need to tell you.” you mumbled, picking invisible lint from your leg.

“but why? i thought we were best friends?”

“jake, we are. there’s just never anything to tell, okay?”

“okay so tell me,” jake began, turning his body to face yours, leaning his side against the couch, “have you kissed a boy?”

“of course jake.”

“who? where? when?”

“now you sound like me and my girl friends gossiping.”

“i can be that if that’s what makes you more comfortable.”

you chuckled. “it’s fine jake.” you got comfortable leaning on your side to face him. “my first kiss was in middle school when i went on holiday with my family. second kiss was in our upper years,”

“with who?” jake’s eyebrows raised.

you smacked your lips together, “uh, yang jeongin.”

jake gasped, then laughed. “he insisted he wasn’t even going to kiss a girl until he got married!”

“yeah well,” you shrugged.

“is that all?” jake asked.

you looked down, the floor suddenly looking fun. “well, no. there’s one more.”

“who is it? when? tell me!” jake begged, getting on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

you sighed rolling your eyes. looking at jake you said, “it was heeseung, just two months ago. more of a make out than just a kiss.”

jake let go of your hands. not mad at you, but shocked and surprised. but he was mad at heeseung as he told his friends you were clearly off limits.

“why heeseung?”

“it was at that party you dragged me to, jake. i was bored, you left me to go hook up with a girl, so heeseung kept me company.”

jake stared at you, unblinking. “so what? i’m not around and he takes his chance to get in your pants?”

“jake it’s not like that! all we did was make out, okay? he didn’t want to go further, i didn’t want to go further. it was just for fun.”

“who else knew?”

“sunghoon and jungwon. but i begged them not to say anything.”

jake scoffed in disbelief. “do you promise that’s all you did?”

“yes jake. i don’t understand why it bothers you so much! i haven’t opened my legs like a slut for your friends, okay?”

“i don’t mean it like that—,”

you stood up, now angry for some reason. “it’s getting late. you should go. i’m tired and i am sure you are too from practice. thank you for helping me.”

you walked off to your bathroom, knowing jake can let himself out.

and that he did. he walked out, ready to confront his best friend, forgetting about his cellphone, until he got to his shared apartment with his 2 other roommates, sunghoon and jay.

“is heeseung coming over?” jake asked.

jay and sunghoon were playing video games in the living room. jay answered, “not that i’m aware of? he had a late practice then a study group right after.”

jake huffed. “sunghoon, i have a bone to pick with you!”

“what did i do?”

“you knew heeseung made out with my best friend and didn’t tell me?”

jay gasped like a teen girl. “no!”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t my business to tell! honestly, it’s none of your business too. just because you’re open about your sex life about other girls to her doesn’t mean she has to be the same way.”

“bullshit! it is my business.”

“you’re her best friend, not her boyfriend. she can be around any other guy without you butting in.” sunghoon stated. “even if that means it’s heeseung.”

jake kept quiet, and just stormed off to his room in a mood. as he laid on his bed, that’s when he realized he left his phone at your place.

he slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next day, you took jake his phone to his apartment. sunghoon answered the door as he was on his way to the ice rink.

you tried to hand it over to sunghoon but he shook his head. “you give it to him. i’m in a rush, and i am sure jake has some apologies to give.” sunghoon patted your shoulder before leaving you in the door way.

you took off your shoes, making your way to jake’s room. you knocked twice, and heard a faint ‘come in.’

jake didn’t even attempt to look up from his bed. “sunghoon if you’re here to just scold me before you leave for the day don’t bother. jay already scolded me about my actions.” then he went on to say that he knew he owed you an apology.

“can you say that a bit louder, i didn’t have my phone recording?” you chuckled.

jake sat up quickly from bed. since he was laying on his stomach, he sat up on all fours in doggy style looking at you like a kid who just woke up for christmas.

“you’re here?”

“well first, you left your phone at my apartment. but now i believe there’s an apology to be owed to me?”

jake nodded, getting off his bed, to walk to you as you stood in his door. he apologized for getting upset about you kissing heeseung.

“whoever you have sex with is none of my business, okay?”

“jake, i—,”

jake didn’t let you finish as he pulled you into a tight hug. “i’m sorry. you can slut yourself out to whomever.”

you laughed, hugging jake back, patting his back. when the hug ended, you handed jake his phone. “i wonder how mad she is.”

jake’s phone battery was at 0%. “well, i guess we’ll find out after it charges.” he laughed.

you and jake decided to watch a movie, in the meantime ‘sidelined: the qb and me.’

“ugh, so cheesy and cliche.”

you elbowed jake. “i like cheesy and cliche!”

he pinched your cheek. “of course you do.”

you stretched when the movie ended. “i could use a nap. all i dreamt about was physics.” you shuddered.

“nap it is!” jake said and grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder, walking you to his room.

he threw you on his bed, climbing in next to you.

that’s when you said, “jake, i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?” jake laughed. “how does that affect me?”

“well, i was only telling you because of earlier.”

“oh.” jake realized. “my bad. but still, it’s none of my business who you have sex with, unless it’s me.”

you nearly choked on air. “and just why would i have sex with you?”

“best friends have sex all the time.” jake said.

you both were laying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling during this conversation.

“jake not best friends. maybe friends with benefits.”

“and we can’t be both?”

you sat up, looking down at your friend with confusion written across your face.

“jake? where is this coming from?”

“baby, if you think i never thought about having sex with you not once since we were teens, you are mistaken.”

“jake—,”

“why else would i run off my friends and other guys?”

“then why else would you have sex with other girls if you so called wanted me in bed?”

jake shrugged. “my dick could only take so much of my hand, babe.”

you groaned, “jake!” and fell back on his bed. this time, he sat up. he rolled to his side, palm on your thigh.

shivers went up and throughout your body.

truth be told, you may have thought about sex with jake once or twice. it didn’t really bother your head until you heard a girl in your class stating he once made her come so hard she passed out.

you wanted to know what that felt like. or if it was even possible.

“i heard it’s painful.” you sighed truthfully, turning your head to look into jake’s eyes. as usual, he had on his puppy dog look, thick lips pouting.

“for some babe, yes it is.” jake said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. his thumb then glided softly from your cheek to your bottom lip.

“how badly?” you asked in a whisper, the tension between you two thickening.

“it just depends on the girl, and if she’s having sex with the right partner.” jake replied softly, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips. “for me, making sure my girl is comfortable and relaxed. making sure i touch her in the right places.”

all while talking, jake’s fingertips ghosted along your thigh, hips, sides, up the side of your breasts. your skin cluttered with goosebumps, your breathing fastening, both you and jake breathing heavily, just inches away from each other.

with one last flick from your eyes to your lips, jake slowly leaned in for a kiss, capturing your lips in his.

and more than you could imagine, his lips were so soft and thick. and he didn’t straightly use his tongue. the kiss was so slow and sensual, building up the tension between both of you.

jake carefully hovered over you, so you were flat on your back, your hands raising to wrap around his neck. jake’s right hand went to push down your pants and underwear as far as he could.

you giggled removing your lips. “moving quite fast there, huh?”

jake smiled, “can’t help it baby, been waiting too damn long to be inside you.”

jake kissed your lips once more, before scooting down, taking off your bottoms completely, not even bothering to warn you.

his tongue met your core, and you immediately let out a loud gasp, at the unknown feeling. “oh,” you whispered out.

it didn’t feel bad, but it felt weird. foreign.

“don’t worry baby, it’ll feel good. give me a second.” jake said, and went back to your core, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and soon his finger.

“oh!” you squealed with a gasp, then moaned. your lower half began squirming, causing jake to hold you down by your hips with his left hand.

with him holding you down, the intensity amplified, and your hand went to his soft hair. jake added a second finger, your leg resting over his shoulder.

“too much, jake.” you sighed out.

“gotta stretch you out. im pretty thick, honey.”

“that doesn’t help, jake!” you groaned, in-between fussing at him and how good he was making you feel.

“to be fair, i asked if you had any toys.” jake chuckled, fingers still buried in you. only he was sitting up, eyes looking into yours intensely.

“i thought you were joking around.” you moaned as he worked his beautiful, lengthy fingers inside of you. you could almost imagine how his veins looked on his hands.

“you still haven’t answered my question, honey.” jake said, his fingers stilling inside of you—deep and angled.

“fuck!” you moaned, annoyed he stopped. “yes jake, i have one fucking toy! now keep it moving, please.” you begged, and jake chuckled.

“anything for my bestie.”

jake worked his fingers inside of you, adding a third for a while, getting you used to the sensation. weirdly, not once did it not feel good.

jake could feel you getting wetter and wetter and knew it was perfect timing. he quickly undressed himself, then finished undressing you.

“want me to wear a condom?” jake asked and you nodded. jake grabbed a condom from his bedside table, and put it on with quick ease.

you closed your eyes in anticipation of it hurting. jake noticed, and grabbed your chin in his hand.

“look at me honey.” he said softly and you opened your eyes slowly.

he leaned down, so your noses touched, his tip waiting to enter you. he kissed your forehead once.

“don’t wait for the pain, it’ll hurt more. try to relax for me, okay? eyes on me.”

jake kept his hand on your chin, your eyes looking into his. foreheads touching, jake eased in you slowly, you biting your lower lip trying to not scrunch your face.

“it’s okay, you’re doing so well for me baby.” jake cooed, kissing your lips. “doing so well for your jakey.”

you let out a deep breath, your hands resting around his neck and shoulders, your legs open as he laid in between them, buried. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

jake soon finished pushing himself all the way in, causing a low moan of pain to push past your lips. your eyes snapped shut.

“jake, i can’t.” you cried.

“hey, look at me.” jake ordered and you did once more. “eyes on me, okay? you’re okay, i have you. it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but i’ll take care of you.”

“jake but—,”

“do you trust me?” jake asked, caressing your cheek and you nodded.

jake attached his lips to yours, one hand playing with your breast and nipples, as he slowly, inch by inch pushed in and out of you.

the sensation of him playing with your boobs and nipples distracted from his dick rocking in and out of you.

soon you hadn’t even noticed jake was able to pull out to the tip and push back in, your wetness leaking between the two of you.

“my baby just needed some kisses and sweet talk.” jake mumbled against your lips.

jake’s head rested against your neck, and his thrusts became faster and deeper if possible. but it felt good.

jake became a moaning mess, his moans and low growls seeming to turn you on more. he just started throwing praises your way, rolling easily off his tongue.

“good girl. so good for your best friend, huh? always wanted to have your best friend fuck you? not as innocent as i thought.”

jake’s next position had him on his knees, you flat on your back, your legs and thighs resting against the front of his body.

with how powerful his thrusts became, you were so glad no one was here because the sounds of skin slapping was so loud.

your hands reached to grip anything and everything it could. pillows, sheets, jake. jake had a tight hold on your hips as he began to pound into you, literally.

“jake!” you squealed, and felt your stomach tightening. “jake!”

“that’s it baby, say my name, over,” thrust, “and over,” thrust, “and over until your voice goes out.” thrust.

you let out a loud—scream? moan? growl?

your body began shaking afterwards, jake bullying himself back into you after your cunt just kept pushing him out.

soon, jake went still inside of you, a loud moan coming out of his own lips, his grip on your sides tightened.

it felt so hot in his room, both sweaty from the sex. tension was still high, and you knew no way things could go back to the way it was prior to this.

jake removed his dick from you, still hard and wanting a second round. but he knew you had to get some rest before even thinking about another round.

he looked down on the condom, noting no blood, and removed it before throwing it to the trash next to the bed.

“at least you used the trash for something.” you joked. jake laughed knowing you always got after him for his lack of cleanliness.

your heart began thumping hard at the thought of what happens after this. meanwhile jake’s heart was thumping because his body was ready for round 2.

before either of you could say anything, a knock came to your door.

“yo, horn dogs! jay brought us food!” heeseung yelled then laughed.

ah shit.

[luveline]

hey lovely!! can we maybe get some more pregnant bombshell and spencer??

“What I’ve decided,” you say, reclining back against Spencer’s lap with all the air of a resting empress, “is that I don’t actually like being pregnant.” 

Spencer startles, as does Hotch. JJ doesn’t flinch. “It’s awful,” she says. 

You’re too pregnant to terminate the pregnancy, now. Thirty weeks, your stomach a bump you pretend doesn’t exist when you aren’t holding a hand to it. “I love my baby,” you say, letting Spencer relax again underneath you, “but this is inhumane.” 

“It’s one of the most human experiences you could ever live through,” Spencer says. People have been having babies since the beginning of time. 

“I wonder if you’d feel that way if you were the pregnant one.” You slip further down into his lap, shuffling across the jet’s couch to let your head rest on his thigh. Your chin tips up, your lips curling into a painted smile. He could kiss every bit of lipstick off of your mouth if you didn’t have an audience. 

“I just mean, it’s intrinsically human to reproduce. Not that your feelings aren’t real. Sorry.” 

“Ooh, sorry,” you mumble, giving him a playful, almost daring smirk. “Doghouse for you, handsome. You know you’re supposed to agree to everything I say.” 

“I know.” 

“Is it hard?” Hotch asks. Not unaware that it is, in fact, very hard, but probing you to open up further should you want to. Spencer probably should’ve asked you first, he thinks. He holds your face in apology. 

“Hotch, it’s like… It’s hard because it doesn’t stop. Sometimes I don’t notice, I don’t feel any different, but when I’m nauseous or when it’s barely five and my back aches like I’ve been carrying a dumbbell all day… I don’t know.” 

“It’s alright to not enjoy it,” Spencer says. “You don’t have to think it’s fun. You can hate every second of it, if you want.” 

“I don’t. Really, I don’t. Just tired.” 

“You could be in the field less,” Hotch suggests. 

You cover your eyes with your hand. “Don’t suggest big things to me.” 

“It’s up to you when you want to stop. But don’t think you can’t take a break. Even if next week you want to come back.” Hotch smiles. “After all, you’re the brains of the operation. You can consult through video, like Penelope.” 

You laugh at being called the brains, stretching your legs out, stockings shining down the lengths of you like they’ve suffered a sudden rain. “It’s not about being tired. I’m exhausted, but it’s just strange sometimes, that’s all. I don’t always feel like me.” 

Spencer lets his hand fall to your chest, rubbing a short line under your collar he hopes is soothing.

“It’s the emotional aspect too,” JJ says. “All the hormones.” 

“Yeah, it is,” you say. 

Spencer hears the unhappiness threaded in your tone, but he’s not sure what to do. Hotch and JJ realise you’re done talking for now and return to their own devices, a new quiet descending over the jet, the only sound the rush and hum of air. Spencer keeps on rubbing that same spot over your chest. Your eyes close. He knows you too well to think you’re sleeping. 

“Are you really unhappy?” he asks quietly. 

“No, Spence. Didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know. It’s alright if you aren’t happy.” 

“I’m mostly happy.” 

“I want you to be a hundred percent happy.”

“I don’t think I can be right now.” 

He lets his pinky dip under the neckline of your shirt. Your skin is soft. “Okay. Don’t be happy if you can’t be. I’m here no matter what.” 

You sigh softly and twist on your side, your nose pressing into his stomach, the heat of your breath slowly transferring through his shirt to his skin. Spencer brings his hand around with you, holding the back of your neck as you make yourself comfortable. 

“I love you, I swear,” you whisper. “And her.” 

“I know it’s not about love. Pregnancy can be an evil, heavy, horrible thing to go through. Don’t feel like you have to pretend it’s not. There’s gestational diabetes, morning sickness, high blood pressure, night sweats, depression…” Spencer ducks down to press his cheek briefly to your temple. “If you liked all that, there’d be something wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with how you feel, okay?” 

“Okay.” You kiss his shirt. 

“Massage?” he offers. 

“Yes!” You wriggle closer to him and shiver happily as his hand finds the knot between your shoulders. “That’s a pro for this whole ordeal. You could open a massage parlour with hands like that. They’d call it Reid’s Reflexology.” 

“Yeah? Is that a hint for a foot massage?” 

You giggle like you’ve been tickled. JJ groans in her seat with reluctant fondness, while Hotch murmurs, “Let’s keep it PG-13, please.” 

[that-sarcastic-writer]

You’ve got my body, flesh and bone

Obsessed!Rafe x nerdy!girl!reader

Summary: something was different about you, and rafe can’t stop thinking about you ever since you came home from college. He knows you want him, too, even if you don’t show it

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, penetrative sex, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), fingering, obsessed behaviors, pervy behaviors (I think?), Rafe is down bad, reader is secretly naughty, dom!rafe, spitting, choking, bit of degradation, Rafe is rough and she likes it.

Wrote this with s2 Rafe in mind but he’s not as psychotic🥰 reader also wears glasses, hope you like being blind

WC: 5.5k I’m so sorry

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE. Anyway I couldn’t help myself. Rafe and Drew are in my mind all day and I need them so bad so I wrote it! I dedicate this to the reason of my insanity @bloodibambiidoll love you doll for feeding me into crash out Rafe😩. This was heavily inspired by her own Rafe fics so def check her out!

Also tagging my other rafe baby @babygorewhore🩷

There weren't a lot of things in this world that Rafe didn’t have. His whole life, anything he wanted, he had, at the palm of his hand. Whatever he wanted, he could do. And he fucking loved it. He didn’t know what it was like to crave something to the point of madness. Until you came around. 

He didn’t know what it was, that feeling deep inside his gut. He didn’t know if it was lust, or desire, or if he truly felt something for you. Perhaps he felt all three. But one thing he knew for certain. If he didn’t have you soon, he was going to cave someone’s face in. It didn’t help that you shot him down every time. The more you ignored him, the more he craved you. Albeit he knew he had a chance in high school and he didn’t take it then. But even he knew he was a prick then. More than he was now, anyway. Deep down he couldn’t blame you for not giving him a chance now, he didn’t want you when you were all quiet and had those ugly glasses, so why should he get you now that you were more confident and stopped giving a fuck what people thought about you? He had to admit, college made you hot as fuck. 

Rafe didn’t know it at first, but the first time he saw you at a party, your hair all pretty, your laugh so contagious he heard it across the room, your clothes hugging every curve of your body perfectly. His jaw fucking dropped. He almost didn’t believe it was you at first. Until he heard whispers about just how fucking hot you had gotten after college. He didn’t know it then, but his sanity was going to go downhill from there. 

That was a month ago, and he still couldn’t get you to give him the light of day. It was almost like you were running away from him, every time. And it pissed him off, really, it did. He craved your attention like he never before. Maybe he was getting soft. Or he was going insane. Either one.

The worst part? 

You were doing it on purpose. 

You caught on pretty quickly. After the first couple of times of catching Rafe blatantly staring at you whenever he saw you, you were curious. It wasn’t entirely outlandish, you were like an exotic animal, having come back to the island after graduating early from university. You didn’t change much, you just learned to manage your social anxiety and started putting more effort into your appearance. You didn’t understand why everyone made such a big deal out of you. But you ignored it for the most part. 

But you couldn’t ignore Rafe. His presence was intoxicating. Even if he didn’t approach you directly. You knew he was there. But you never made an effort to talk to him. You only ever talked to Sarah when you saw her. She was the one that pointed out Rafe in a corner, Topper talking his ear off but Rafe wasn’t paying listening to a word being said, he was looking at you. You, of course, brushed her off with the excuse you gave everyone. 

“He'll get over it, just give it a week.”

He did not, in fact, get over it. 

He thought you didn’t notice, but he followed you on instagram. Of course you noticed. How could you not? Your account was public, but you occasionally looked at who followed you. And the second you saw Rafe fucking Cameron followed you, you almost fainted. Suddenly, the stupid crush you had on Rafe at sixteen came flooding right back. You refused to get your hopes up, but the thought of Rafe quietly stalking your social media never left your mind.

You had no proof, but over the course of a month, you posted on your stories way more than you ever did in college, because you knew Rafe would see them. If you went to a party on Figure 8? Insta story. If you went to the beach? Swimsuit selfies. Felt pretty and did your makeup? Insta story. And what did you notice? Rafe always coincidentally seemed to end up at the exact place you were at. He never came alone, obviously. But he always hung out nearby, always within your line of sight. 

You were driving him mad, certainly. There's no way it was legal for you to wear a swimsuit like that. It actually made his blood boil knowing there were other guys blatantly eye fucking you. Only he should be allowed to do that. He angrily sipped into his cup, silently fuming as he had to stand and simply watch you laugh and run around with your friends, walking past him every time you got drinks for the bar. 

He swore he saw you grin at him one time, a devious and flirty look in your eyes when you made eye contact with him. And he was ready to grab you by the arm and drag you to his car and fuck you right then and there. But he decided against it. Somehow he had enough self control. But it was wearing thin the longer his torture dragged on. 

“Girl, what did you do to Rafe?” Your high school best friend asked you when you came back with your drinks. You frowned, tilting your head innocently. 

“To Rafe? Nothing. I haven’t even talked to him since I came back.” You answered with the truth. Though you purposely ignored what she probably meant. 

“He’s been like glaring at you the whole night. He hasn’t moved from there all night and he’s just looking at you.” She pointed out, more quietly now. And you couldn’t help but subtly shift your eyes in his direction. And indeed, your eyes met with his piercing blue ones. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race the slightest bit when you caught him looking at you like that. He was looking at you exactly how you desperately wanted him to look at you in high school. 

“No idea what you mean. He’s probably just annoyed I’m hanging out with Sarah and her boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m encouraging her hanging out with the pogues.” You mumbled into your cup, shrugging as you quickly averted your gaze from Rafe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to convince her, or yourself.

“You’re better than me, because if Rafe Cameron looked at me like that I’d be dragging him to my car so fast.” She snorted and you almost choked on your drink. “I think you’re the only girl on this island he hasn’t fucked.” 

“Thank God for that.” You responded a bit too quickly, hoping to hide the slight bit of hurt her words brought to you. You always knew you weren’t good enough for Rafe. You always pretended not to care, but you’d be lying.

You left alone that night. And Rafe couldn’t hold back the urge to follow close behind you. He didn’t know when he got in his car after you. Or when he started driving to your house. Or when he got out of his car. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he was going to knock on your door. Or maybe he would. He ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he swept his hair away from his face, exasperated. The very small, but still present, rational side of his mind told him to get the fuck out. And he was going to, until he saw you emerge from your room on the second floor, and you stood right in front of the large window cell. He panicked, running to hide from sight, behind a large tree, but he didn’t leave, he didn’t want to. 

His jaw dropped, his eyes blowing wide open at the sight of you, untying your bikini top and just letting it fall, right then and there. The sight shot straight to his cock. What the fuck were you thinking? What if someone saw you? The thought of you exposing yourself like that made his jaw lock, but his now hard cock in his shorts was much more evident. He couldn’t look away. He was pissed he couldn’t see below your stomach, especially when he saw you crouch as you presumably took off your bottoms, too. 

Rafe almost moaned at the thought. 

And just like that you were gone. And you didn’t come back to the window. It almost felt like the universe was playing a cruel fucking prank on him. Now he had to drive home with an uncomfortable hard on in his shorts. That pissed him off even more.

~~~~~~

This became a habit for Rafe. He would aggressively scroll through your instagram page multiple times a day, hoping that he’d find out where you were for the night. But not in a weird way. He just wanted to see you. But he still hadn’t found the way to get you to talk to him first. He was starting to see the flaw in that plan. But alas, he couldn’t talk to you himself if he didn’t know where to find you. And sometimes, he’d find himself just standing outside your window, hiding behind that same tree. Sometimes you’d sit by the window cell, play around with your hair, sometimes you would read. And sometimes, you’d walk around completely naked, in full view of Rafe. How many times he all but sped home to rub one out was actually embarrassing. 

Rafe was tired of this little game. Though he didn’t quite realize it was a game at all. You had no proof, but you knew. That one time you caught him nearly running back to his car was proof enough for you. So you kept going, until he snapped. You didn’t anticipate just how fast he would break. 

“Guess who showed up.” Your friend whispered in your ear. You casually glanced over your shoulder to find none other than Rafe, with Topper and Kelce right behind him like lost puppies. It had to be criminal how hot this man looked. The polo shirt he wore was hanging on by a thread under his biceps and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away. 

“Yeah, so? He shows up to every party.” You shrugged, pretending not to catch on to the blatant connection. She rolled her eyes at you. 

“Oh, so he casually shows up to the one party you’ve come to all week? Don’t you think it’s a little odd?”

You shrugged again. You were sure it was a coincidence. Sure it wasn’t because you posted a selfie of your pretty makeup and your pretty dress with the location of the party you got invited to. And surely the way Rafe was staring at you right now had nothing to do with the way your dress accentuated your chest perfectly, showing enough but still leaving some to the imagination. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. 

“Nope. Anyway, want a drink?” You smiled at her innocently, completely ignoring her Rafe interrogation. She shot you a pointed look, surely she would grill you about it later, but she relented nonetheless. 

With a smile you skipped over to the bar, your dress riding up ever so slightly as you leaned over the wooden bar to speak over the loud music. Rafe nearly dropped his beer, his eyes going from your hair down to your ass. He couldn’t take this anymore. 

“Yeah, whatever bro. I’ll be right back.” He cut off Topper as he went on about one thing or another, he didn’t wait for a response and he approached you in long strides. He sniffed softly, running a hand through his hair before opening his mouth. 

You heard your name spoken in a deep voice, with a drink in each hand, you whipped around, not expecting to run straight into a solid, muscled chest. 

“Hey—oh fuck,” Rafe cursed when the drinks you were holding spilled all over his shirt, and over the front of your dress. You gasped loudly, nearly squealing when the ice cubes slipped down your chest. 

“Rafe! What the actual fuck.” You almost screamed at him, desperately attempting to wipe off the alcohol soaking your dress, the front now sticking to your tits. Rafe wanted to say something, maybe apologize, but he was mouth agape at the sight of your soaked chest, it took him a minute to process. 

“Shit, my bad. I didn’t mean to,” he swallowed, his own shirt starting to stick to his chest. Which didn’t slip past  you, even in your anger. But you couldn’t think about that right now. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m sure you totally didn’t want to embarrass me by spilling drinks all over me. Grow the fuck up, Rafe.” You huffed, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You could feel your face fluster with embarrassment and you had to force yourself not to cry. You had tried so hard to remove yourself from the old you, the one everyone made fun of, the one that got asked out to prom as a prank, the one everyone stared at in disgust. And you felt like that girl all over again. 

Rafe didn’t even have time to argue, you were running off before he could get a word in. He groaned, discomfort settling in from his shirt sticking to his skin. 

“Way to go bro. You didn’t have to embarrass the freakshow like that though.” Rafe sneered in disgust at your high school nickname and he rolled his eyes, shrugging off the casual hand on his shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up before I shove broken glass down your throat.” 

If there was something in this world that Rafe could never have, it would be patience. And this little game had his sanity wearing very thin. 

He didn’t know exactly when he ended up at your front door, fist pounding loudly as he called your name. His bike was somewhere on the lawn, he didn’t bother to hide it this time. He swore if you didn’t open this door right now he would kick it open. He stepped back, his jaw tight as he waited a few seconds before doing something more drastic. Then, the door swung open. And there you were. 

“I swear to God Rafe.” You sighed loudly, crossing your arms over your now slightly damp chest, having somewhat dried off the front of your dress. Rafe was taken aback by the appearance of your glasses, however. He hadn’t seen you wear them since you came back. Were you always this cute in them? 

No, focus. 

“You didn’t even let me talk back there! I didn’t mean to run into you like that, I swear.” He took a step closer, slightly leaning down to talk close to your face. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyebrows furrowed with mistrust. 

“Oh right, so was it just a coincidence that you were standing right behind me like a wall?” You shot back, shooting him a suspicious look. He rolled his eyes at you, sighing heavily. “If you wanted to look at them better you could’ve just asked! You didn’t have to knock drinks all over my dress.” 

The words left your mouth in a haze. Fast and angrily as you motioned your hands around. You didn’t realize what you said until the look in Rafe’s eyes shifted. Going from confused to downright sinful. He tilted his head at you, crowding your personal space with his big fucking body. You realized then that you really fucked up. 

“What’d you say?” He asked, his voice low as he made you step back into your house. He followed you, his face close to yours and you swallowed. 

“Huh?” Play dumb, sure. 

“Uh-uh, don’t try to be all innocent now. What the fuck did you say?” He repeated, one of his large hands coming up to grip your jaw. You swallowed, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“You really weren’t that sneaky.” You finally admitted, throwing all logic out of the window knowing you both got caught red-handed by the other. Though Rafe didn’t look embarrassed or even remorseful, if anything he looked pleasantly amused. Impressed even. 

“Well, shit.” A grin pulled at his lips as he laughed, a rush of adrenaline flowing through his already amped up body. “You little whore. You were striping in front of your fuckin’ window on purpose, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t know for sure but, I heard your bike a couple of times.” You shrugged, trying to hide the devious smile on your lips. Rafe scoffed humorously, in utter disbelief. “You following me on insta was kind of a given, too.” 

“You are..” He leaned down, his soft lips mere inches away from yours as he blew out a chuckle, “A dirty little slut. You have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve been doin’ to me? Hm?” He squeezed your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head back to make sure your eyes were on him. 

The words that left his mouth made you rub your thighs together, heat forming between them at the thought of being this close to Rafe, knowing he was on the brink of madness, all because of you. You could see it in his eyes, that utter need to fuck you, take you over and over, or else he would go insane. 

“Thought I wasn’t your type.” You shot back, pettiness lacing your tongue. A groan of annoyance rumbled in his chest. 

“I didn’t know I was your type.” 

“You’re everyone’s type, since when are you humble?” You mocked him with a small laugh, but it quickly died in your chest when his fingers fell to your throat, and he dug his fingers with the faintest pressure. You nearly moaned. 

“Well you’re my type right now. Your tits sure fuckin’ are.” He bit his lip softly, making sure his eyes were on yours when he spoke again, “bet your pussy is my type too. Lemme find out, hm?” 

If you weren’t wet before, you sure were now. You nearly moaned out loud, his words alone bending you to his will. Not that it would take much work. 

Rafe didn’t get to say another word, you were pulling him down by the back of his neck and you kissed him, and you kissed him really fucking hard. He liked your intensity. He craved to find out just what else you were hiding behind your innocent and sweet girl facade. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, his fingers lacing into your hair to force your head back for him. And you happily let him. His other hand shamelessly grabbed at your ass, squeezing it as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“My bedroom is—“ you were breathless as you muttered against his lips. Rafe chuckled, cutting you off as he effortlessly hoisted you around his waist. 

“I know where your fuckin’ room is.” Of course he did. 

You giggled as Rafe tossed you on your bed, biting your bottom lip as you watched him pull his polo over his head and your jaw fell wide open at the sight. 

“Dude why are you like, so hot? Fuck.” Your eyes were big as you nearly drooled at the sight of his muscled torso. He was so ripped it was unbelievable. Rafe smirked at you, happy to hear that you were stroking his ego. He quickly joined you in your bed, straddling you as he hovered over you. 

“Yeah?” He leaned down, lips curved up into a grin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your lips. You nodded as his tongue laced with yours, a string of spit connecting your lips when he pulled back. “You should've just talked to me then. Could’ve had me much sooner. You got any fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you stupid?” 

“How was I supposed to know? You didn’t want me before. I didn’t know.” You pouted, a bit of hurt laced in your voice. He rolled his eyes at you, long fingers coming to squeeze your face. You held your breath as his blue eyes pinned you.

“No, you just wanted to punish me. You wanted to parade yourself around Figure 8 with your pretty little dresses and your innocent little smile. But then at night you’d strip yourself naked in front of your window.” He huffed out the words, frustration coating his tongue. You shrugged. “You wanted to act like a slut, so I’ll fuck you like one. But first, I wanna taste your pussy.” 

The way your body shuddered when Rafe moved down the bed to settle between your legs was embarrassing. You were already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you. You held your breath in anticipation as he reached underneath your dress, tugging your panties down your legs. Rafe grinned at the blue lacy panties that matched your white and navy blue flowy dress. You pretended not to notice him casually shove the lace into his back pocket. 

“Take off your dress. I wanna look at your tits.”  You totally would punch any other man for speaking to you like this, but Rafe? He could speak to you in any way he wanted, especially when he was in between your legs, nearly drooling at the sight of your already soaked cunt. 

You complied, unzipping the side of your dress before pulling it over your head, to reveal that you were indeed not wearing a bra today. Rafe nearly groaned at the sight. 

“Fuck baby. You’re such a slut, did you plan this?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were replaced by a gasp when he dipped his head and licked a stripe between your folds without a single warning. 

It was actually embarrassing how quickly you were falling apart. You were a sobbing shaking mess as soon as he started to circle his tongue around your clit, sloppy sounds leaving his mouth as he moved his head up and down. Rafe was enjoying this as much as you were, how many times he fantasized about shoving his tongue into your cunt, what you would taste like, how you would sound like for him. It was driving him insane. He was groaning and moaning as he lapped at your soaking cunt. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby. You got any idea how many times I went home to rub one out thinkin’ about your pussy?” He groaned, spitting on your clit as he looked up at you, catching the way your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Should’ve just taken you. You would’ve let me, right doll? If I slipped in through your window and fucked this sweet little pussy in the middle of the night, wouldn’t even care as long as you got some dick, right?” 

His words slipped past you, only the feeling of his tongue back on your clit. You couldn’t think straight, your pussy was pulsing, it just felt so good, you didn’t remember the last time a man ate you like this, with such intensity and fervor. Rafe looked up at you again, amused by the way you squirmed and writhed on the bed. With a grin, he wrapped both arms under your knees and folded them damn near against your chest, spreading you open for him. And you couldn’t run away either. 

“I asked you a question.” He spat into your clit again, this time watching as the string of saliva ran down your clit before licking it. 

“Ah! Rafe! Fuck—y-yes! You can do whatever you want to me!” You sputtered, your voice breaking into a cry when he slipped his tongue into your hole. His nose bumped your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and you were nearly digging your nails into his scalp as you clutched his hair. You wanted to come so bad. “Please Rafe. I’m gonna come.” 

Rafe groaned into your pussy at your words. His tongue was replaced by two thick fingers and he curled them perfectly, enough to have you thanking the Gods for having your own house separate from your parents' main house. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. You look so pretty begging me to let you come. Say it again, say it again just like that f’me.” His eyes never left you as his tongue was back on your clit, his fingers slipping and curling inside your throbbing cunt in the most delicious way possible. You couldn’t even form a thought, let alone a sentence. You sobbed, your pussy pulsing around his thick fingers. 

“Please Rafe! Wanna come!” You didn’t have to say it twice, the second Rafe hummed at you, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit as his fingers fucked you raw, you were over. You were a shaking mess as you came, all you could do was gasp and cry as his fingers fucked you through your orgasm, and he happily continued to basically make out with your cunt.

“That was so fuckin’ good baby. You were so good f’me.” He grunted into your thigh as he lazily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Your eyes were screwed shut, heaving as you were still jolting from the aftershock. When you opened your eyes again you found Rafe already hovering above you, his blue eyes staring down at you with devious intentions. 

“You totally look so fuckin’ hot with those glasses. You should like suck my dick with them on.” You blinked at him, mouth slightly open which made him grin at you. “Not right now, I wanna be inside you now.” 

Rafe didn’t waste any fucking time in pressing your knees to your chest, your glistening pussy on full display and ready for his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy like I fuckin’ own it.” He spat, his jaw slightly falling open as he slipped into you. Your eyes rolled back almost instantly, the feeling of his cock stretching you was better than you could have ever imagined. He was so fucking big, too. “All these fuckin’ assholes lookin’ at you and I’m the only one that gets to fill this pussy, you got that?” 

You nodded harshly as he bottomed out, and without a warning he pulled out only to slam back into you, his cock damn near splitting you open. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing around his hair as he slammed into you, filling you deeper than anyone ever has before. 

“Just you Rafe! It’s always been you!” You grabbed his face, pulling him into a messy kiss. Your words made his cock twitch and all he wanted right then and there was to keep you here, beneath him, stuffed with his cock and never let you leave. 

“Why didn’t you come back sooner, huh? This pussy is so perfect, so tight. Just f’me. Want you all the fuckin’ time baby.” He grunted into your mouth, both arms caging you in as he drilled into you, his cock so deep you could almost feel him in your fucking guts. 

A string of pathetic sounds, a string of uh-uh-uh’s left your lips as he damn near folded you in half, your cute nails dragging down his back, surely to leave red angry marks. Rafe grunted in delight, his large hand coming to grab your throat. He definitely didn’t miss the way you pussy clenched around him then. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot, yknow that? Such a pretty little slut f’me. You’re gonna let me use you, hm? Do whatever I want with you?” He squeezed your throat, forcing your head up and down in a ‘yes’ gesture and you moaned, eyes screwed shut. “Mhmm, exactly. Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

The sound that left your throat was so pathetic Rafe laughed. You did as you were told, opening your eyes as you opened your mouth, you watched him with glazed eyes as he leaned down and spat straight into your mouth. He watched you jaw slacked as you happily swallowed, feeling the bump under his fingers. 

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I love it.” He leaned down again, his fingers tightening around your throat as he spat into your mouth again, but this time he kissed you, it was so messy and sloppy and you fucking loved it. “Act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.” 

“Mhmm yes! I’m such a slut, just for you.” You choked out, your throat raw and sore from the grip he had on it. He shuddered at your words, his cock twitching as he dropped his free hand to rub harsh circles around your clit. Your eyes rolled so far back you actually looked like you were spasming. “O-oh god. I’m gonna come—! Please Rafe—!” 

“Ohh, feels so good, doesn’t it baby? You wanna gush all over my dick huh?” He spoke right into your cheek, his sweaty cheek pressed right against yours as he held you by your throat, your glasses getting squished by him and you were praying to the Gods that he didn’t end up breaking them. 

“Please, please, please Rafe!” You sobbed, your soaked cunt pulsing around his cock, your thighs sore and shaking as you hanged on by a thread, so close to reaching your limit. 

“That’s it doll, squeeze the fuck out of me, come all over my cock, just like that.” He rubbed your clit and drilled into your already abused hole until you were gushing, you whole body shaking as you fell into a fit of sobs. Rafe wasn’t one to come just like that, but the sight of you so utterly fucked out and sobbing almost made him spill right then and there. 

“Ah! Rafe!” You whined as he kept fucking you, his rough hips and harsh pace not once slowing down, driving you to the point of overstimulation. You squirmed, almost as if you wanted to run away from him. He tisked at you, releasing your throat to grab your arm, holding you down as he gripped the headboard with the other, damn near crushing you with his big fucking body. 

“Oh, where the fuck are you going, huh? Who said you could run away? Nah, you wanted it, so now you take it like a good girl.” He reveled in the way you took his cock, jaw agape, eyes screwed shut and forehead screwed into a frown of pleasure. 

You were practically done for when he carelessly shoved your face to the side, damn near knocking your glasses off your face. His lips sucked marks on your neck as your pussy convulsed around his cock for the second time. Your head was spinning so hard and your vision was so blurry, you didn’t even know what planet you were on.

“Hmph! Rafe!” You yelped but he cut you off, a particularly sharp thrust making you slide up the mattress. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna fill you. Gonna ruin every other man for you.” He spat, his voice raspy and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he chased his high. 

“Please Rafe, give it to me. Want it so bad!” Well that fucking did it. A moan rumbled in Rafe’s throat as he spilled himself inside you. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung wide open. He snapped his hips, one, two more times before he sat still with a long breath. 

You laid speechless, blinking softly as you tried to slow your racing heart, and process that this actually happened. Sixteen year-old you would totally freak out. Rafe Cameron just fucked the life out of you. Rafe was looking down at you with a pussy-drunk look, his eyes slightly closed and his lips were parted. Not that you could see him that well. Your glasses were so smudged and foggy all you could see was blurry shapes. 

“I just fucked you dumb and you’re making that face?” Rafe narrowed his eyes at you as leaned on his forearms, holding up his weight as your legs fell to either side of him. You frowned at him, confused. 

“What face?”

“You’re pouting and shit.” He smirked, squeezing your face between his fingers and you shot him a pointed look, groaning. 

“I forgot to take off my glasses. They’re all dirty now. Can’t see shit.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your face away from his grip as you took your glasses off and tossed them on your nightstand. 

“Well you looked cute and shit so. You’re fine.” He pressed a kiss to your pouty lips before laying down beside you, the feeling of your mixed release making you hiss softly. 

Rafe lied with an arm behind his head and he couldn’t help but grin when he caught you looking at him with your lip pulled between your teeth. He nudged you over with his head and you happily settled underneath his arm with your head resting on his chest. You didn’t take him for a cuddling type but you’d happily take this.

You sighed heavily, just wanting to rest your sore muscles for a bit when you heard him speak again. 

“So are you gonna follow me back on insta now or what?” 

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines. 

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be. 

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.” 

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[lowkeyren]

NOT EVERYONE KNOWS!

in which — being in a secret relationship with them but they’re all idiots

featuring — dan feng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 2.6k, from event req: here!, debut fic for my milestone event yippee, they keep fumbling but it’s ok cus they’re hot, reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!! <3

#DAN FENG

+ wait… since when are you guys married?!

dan feng? i just know he’s gonna mess this shit up so badly. he’s the high elder, but also the epitome of boyfailure. he really can’t help it, those terms of endearment just slip out so easily when you're by his side.

and it doesn’t stop there. he’s completely oblivious to the shocked silence and wide-eyed stares from others; for example, he might be holding your hand absentmindedly while discussing serious matters, and only snaps back to reality when you cough awkwardly.

but unfortunately, it’s not that simple when the gang (re: high cloud quintet) find out about your relationship. disclaimer: chaos ensues

dan feng immediately sits up upon seeing you enter the room, a fresh batch of tea brewing in hand. the discussion among the group gradually fades into the background as his eyes trail your figure while you carefully pour tea into each person’s teacup.

the piquant aroma fills his senses, and he can’t stop a small smile from creeping across his face when you take a seat next to him. he takes a sip, the delicate flavor enveloping his taste buds, leaving behind a delightful aftertaste that lingers long after the tea is swallowed. 

“—thus we require a substantial amount of time, speaking of which, anything on your end dan feng?” 

he finds himself watching you out of the corner of his eye. “imbibitor lunae…?” and it’s almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from you. 

“hello? dan feng?” he snaps back to reality, blinking a few times before processing the initial question. “a-ahem, yes. darling, could you pass me the report?” he says, turning to your side.

the room falls silent, and a shocked gasp escapes from baiheng's mouth before jingliu clasps a hand over it; jing yuan shifts in his seat, exchanging a bewildered glance with yingxing. 

“hm..? did you forget to bring it?” his tone is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the shocked expression on everyone’s face. “are you alright my dear? your face is quite red, do y—”

before he can finish, you manage to find your voice, trying to mask your embarrassment with a strained smile. “no, i didn’t forget the report, and i’m perfectly fine…  though our friends might need a minute to recover.” 

baiheng, still wide-eyed, blurts out, “hold on, are you guys… in a relationship?” 

dan feng blinks in confusion ”oh, did i forget to mention that part?” —to which you hear someone across the table audibly facepalm. 

you sigh, voice strained but laced with amusement, “i can’t believe you never told them we got married.” your words are followed by the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.

“wait… since when are you guys married?!” you pat jingyuan’s back, trying to stifle a laugh. “since last year.”

“seriously, and you never thought of telling us.”

“it was an honest mistake, yingxing.” dan feng replies, crossing his arms defensively.

baiheng shakes her head, “an honest mistake? like forgetting to water your plants, not like forgetting to tell us you got married!”

“well congratulations, i suppose. though a heads-up would’ve been nice.” jingliu manages a wry smile, though she internally cringes at baiheng’s exaggerated (or not) reaction, opting to just let her be. 

"sorry, it slipped my mind.” dan feng's nonchalant shrug only serves to further fuel jingyuan's irk, his eye visibly twitching; yingxing lets out a groan, still reeling from the revelation. you can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene unfolding, taking a sip of your tea. 

“you weren’t planning to tell us at all?!”

"honest mistake."  you can tell he’s just teasing his friends by the way a small smirk appears on his face as he attempts to hide it behind his teacup. (you nearly had to restrain baiheng as she tried to leap over the table.)

well, it seems like you’re not going to get anything done today.

#BLADE

+ easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.

please. if you had a penny for every time blade almost exposes that you’re dating, you’d have three pennies. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened thrice. 

the first time was when he received a call from you while in the car with firefly. he answered almost immediately, without realizing that wearing earphones does not necessarily mean he isn't able to be heard in real life, just that others can’t hear what he’s listening to. 

“went to boomerville n the locals said they knew u” —silverwolf, probably.

second was when someone confessed their feelings to you, and he “instinctively” jumped in to say you have a husband. "what husband? i don't see a ring on your finger." so now, that same man won't stop asking you about this so-called “husband” (that doesn’t exist). 

and third time, well we’ll see.

“are you sure you don’t want me to kill him.” 

you huff out in annoyance, “this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t mentioned i had a husband.” sighing, you push yourself off the bed and turn to face your boyfriend.

“...that aside, how exactly do you plan on handling him?” blade raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “easy! just buy me a nice ring, and leave the lying part to me.”

if blade hadn’t seriously considered taking care of the man before, he certainly seems determined to do so now. “hey what’s with that reaction…”

blade’s eyes narrow as he takes in your response. “a ring huh, what are you going to do with it?” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “what else? pretend i have a husband.” 

he sighs, “is this really the best solution you can come up with?” (he really doesn't like the idea of you having a husband…that isn’t him, fake or not)  “yup!” you reply with a grin, “i’ll be eagerly awaiting the ‘surprise’!” with that, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek and swiftly exit the room.

oh you’re lucky he loves you. (even though this is totally, 100% his fault)

—

“hmm, bladie? why the sudden interest in jewellery?” kafka smirks, curiosity dancing in her eyes. blade chooses to stay silent, picking out the most expensive ring; and kafka’s expression only broadens with amusement as she watches his intense scrutiny of the display.

“planning something special, are we?” she teases, leaning closer. “or are you just trying to impress someone?”

blade finally glances up, his face inscrutable. “just taking care of business.” he replies tersely, slipping the ring onto the counter along the pile of designer jackets. 

“right… well, i’ll be interested to see how this turns out.”

—

“what?” the man in front of you asks, his confusion evident. 

you tilt your head slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. “you seem surprised. did you think i was joking?” you casually brush a strand of hair away, subtly flaunting the ring to him —and to any onlookers; trying not to crack a smile when you hear a loud gasp followed by a flurry of hushed whispers.

he grits his teeth, clearly embarrassed and humiliated by the commotion. “i didn’t expect you to be married… especially since you never wear the ring.”

“or is it that you’re not all that attached to your husband?” the audacity of this man… just as you’re at a loss of words, a firm hand grips the man’s shoulder from behind.

blade yanks the man back, and away from you. “you’re pushing your luck.”  the sudden motion causes the man to stumble, his face pale with a mix of surprise and fear.

“w-who the hell are you?!” the man’s voice trembles as he tries to regain his composure. meanwhile, you notice a crowd beginning to form around you, with some people eagerly pulling out their phones to record the escalating drama.

“leave, now.” you can tell blade’s patience is wearing thin, dangerously so.

the man’s eyes narrow in defiance. “why should i? you’re the one to talk when you’re hiding behind a disguise.” blade pins the man with a steely gaze, his intense stare making the man stiffen under its weight.

but what you didn’t expect was for blade to turn around, remove his mask and letting it dangle from one ear; he then raises your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss upon it.

the man’s face immediately drains of colour, and the crowd around you erupts into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. you’re not sure whether he's more shocked by blades' bold gesture or by the fact that a notorious criminal is standing right in front of him. (its the latter)

the man, now visibly shaken, scrambles away, yelling out a “sorry!” before disappearing into the crowd. blade pulls you away, ignoring the flashes of cameras and ducks into a nearby alley.

the next morning, you wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone. you discover the group chat flooded with messages from your friends.

“@barcodewrist @[you] explain yourselves”

“Bladie, so that was what the ring was for~” 

“bro i cant believe this old ass man has rizz”

you quickly type out a message asking for context, in which you only receive a link from silverwolf. as you click in, you can’t help but wish you can unsee what’s on the screen.

“‘YOUR NAME’, IDENTIFIED IN ASSOCIATION WITH STELLARON HUNTER ‘BLADE’: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. BOUNTY SET AT 3.5 BILLION.” and attached below is a video of what transpired yesterday. 

“great” you mutter under your breath, “not only am i dating a wanted criminal, now i'm one too.” you shoot a quick message to the group chat “any tips on staying out of trouble when your boyfriend’s a fugitive? asking for a friend... and my sanity.”

on the bright side, at least you’ll be greeted by a very pleased blade, now publicly acknowledged as your husband —oh and don’t question the second ring on your finger.

#JING YUAN

+ stop you're not allowed to smile at me like that. / like what?

how do i even start. he’s so smug, please throw a rock at him and wipe that “:3” off his face.

you really do sometimes wonder if jing yuan ever truly intended to keep this relationship a secret, especially by how he practically transforms into a lovesick puppy whenever you’re within a 10 meter radius. 

goodluck because he's also such a tease, an insufferable one. despite that, you can’t deny there’s something endearing about how he always seems to light up when you’re around, his constant teasing remarks making it harder to stay mad whenever you call him out for being “too lax”. 

after all, he may be a headache, but he’s your headache —one that comes with a hefty dose of affection and a penchant for making every single moment spent together memorable.

being the general’s secretary, and his lover isn’t an easy job. 

you’re focused on the task before you; reviewing documents, scheduling meetings, coordinating logistics for high-stakes missions —ensuring no crucial information slips through the cracks. 

but you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes boring into you. it’s a subtle sensation, a weight that pulls your awareness away from the task at hand. you glance up from your desk, only to be met by jing yuan’s gaze, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“jing yuan, what are you doing?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer. though a smile slowly spreads across his face as he continues to watch you. his overwhelming stare makes it difficult to concentrate…

and worse? he looks utterly and hopelessly in love.

“stop, you're not allowed to smile at me like that.” the words come out softer than intended; he leans in slightly, the warmth in his expression only deepening.

“and why not?” he asks, his voice carries a hint of amusement. the twinkle in his eyes suggests that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it only adds to your annoyance. 

“because” you reply, trying to sound exasperated, “you’re looking at me as if you’re in love with me or something!” —and your handsome face makes it impossible to focus.

jing yuan’s smile only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “is that so? i didn’t realise my smile had such an effect on you.” (you hope his pants catch on fire because he’s obviously lying about being unaware of the effect his presence has on you)

“and i am in love with you.” 

that, in fact, did not ease the fluttering in your chest. “shh!” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand; you hold your grip for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your palm.

“hmm… so i can't even look at my beloved partner now?” his voice comes out slightly muffled and distorted due to your playful assault on his face. you give his cheek one last, harsh pinch before finally letting him go.

you heave a sigh of relief once you’re sure no one heard anything, you loosen your grip but keep your palm resting on his face. with a playful pinch, you squeeze his cheek. “you tease!” you furrow your brows, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite your effort to remain stern.

you shake your head with a smile, “do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when you’re looking at me like that?” the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks.

“i know,” he replies with a grin, “and i wouldn’t change a thing.”

jing yuan rests his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on your desk; the warmth of his gaze and the cheeky grin on his face makes it hard to stay frustrated at him. 

“you’re impossible,” you say with a mock scowl, though your tone carries a lighthearted edge. “but it’s also hard to stay mad at you.”

he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. he leans in a bit more, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh? then would you like to head out—”

“you wish.” you cut him off with a deadpan look, “that stack of papers has been sitting there since this morning, and it’s not going to magically sort itself out.”

you gesture toward the mountain of documents on your desk, which has only grown throughout the day. he sighs, settling himself comfortably into the seat beside you. you pick up your pen as you try to regain your focus again amidst the lingering warmth of his presence.

this time, you really do consider throwing a rock at him when his head falls on your shoulder as he dozes off just five minutes later.

but hey, at least he makes it clear that he’s head over heels for you, even if it comes with a side of embarrassment, and a few near heart attacks. 

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

[cursedyuri]

smut! 18+ below, minors dni.

thinking about ellie accidentally sending you a video of her fingering herself.

the video preview is completely dark, so you have no clue what to expect when you click the play button. you assume it’s another one of her rants - lately she’s taken to sending you clips of herself complaining about her family, work, politics. she’s sent a few videos of her trying new foods while completely obliterated on an edible, too, which you’re kind of hoping for. her eyes look so pretty all droopy and red, and she has the cutest laugh when she’s high.

but oh, no. this is… nothing like that.

you’re lounging in bed, head propped up against a pillow, when you get the notification from ellie and click to your text thread. you hit play on the video, watching with a furrowed brow as the camera moves from darkness - the forest green fabric of ellie’s duvet, you realize - to reveal her room. and it’s a familiar sight; you’ve been there a hundred times. but that’s where the familiarity ends.

because this new camera angle shows ellie naked from the waist down.

she’s flushed, her cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm; the light catches on a smear of wetness on her inner thigh, and you realize with a flutter in your belly that she’d been going at it for a while before she’d pulled out the camera.

“okay, fuck,” ellie pants, her voice a bit tinny through the speakers of your cell phone. she lifts one muscled thigh to her bed, which she’s standing before - right in front of the camera. your mouth goes dry as your eyes flicker over her body: heather grey tank riding up her toned hips, the faintest sheen of sweat on her chest, her thigh flexing as she spreads herself in front of the camera.

“i got close beforehand so i wouldn’t… didn’t wanna be nervous,” she says, avoiding eye contact with her phone. “but i’m - wait. why the fuck am i talking? you’re not supposed to talk in these, are you?”

blood rushes into your cheeks, warming your face until you feel like your skin is about to burn off. you should probably stop watching, shouldn’t you? you should click out of the video, pretend you never opened it in the first place. this is clearly not for you to see.

but you can’t look away.

ellie reaches her hand between her legs, and your stomach warms with arousal. there’s a flutter between your legs that leaves you squeezing your thighs together, seeking pressure.

“oh god,” ellie mutters as her fingers play in her own pussy, the lewd, wet sounds echoing. she slips a finger inside of herself, then two, her eyes fluttering shut as a string of curses leaves her lips.

she starts to pump her fingers, the heel of her hand pressed to her clit, and your breath catches in your throat when she looks up at the camera. you know she’s not really looking at you this way, but you tense up regardless. the look in her eyes is sultry, lustful, hungry.

there’s a growing damp spot on your underwear.

ellie’s getting close; her brows are pinched together in concentration, and each of her moans is more ragged and high-pitched than the last. beneath the thin fabric of her tank, you see her abs tense with her impending orgasm. you bite your lip until you’re sure you taste blood.

she comes with a shuddering cry, bicep flexing as her hand stalls between her legs. strands of auburn hair, darkened with sweat, cling to her freckled forehead. she lowers her leg from the bed and stands upright again, still panting. she reaches for the camera and the video ends.

you’re still staring wide-eyed at your phone when a series of texts come through from ellie.

oh my god

please tell me you didn’t see that

holy fuck i’m an idiot

i’m so sorry

i did not mean to send that to you. holy shit i’m sorry

your chest tightens with sympathy - you can imagine how panicked ellie is on the other line, how utterly ruined her post-orgasm bliss must be.

you type out a quick response: it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

finding a convenient place to prop up your phone, you hook your thumbs over your underwear and tug them off, leaning forward to press record on your phone.

read part two here!

[figthoughts]

imagine dean fucking you with sam asleep in the same room… ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

warnings: smut, caught in the act (dean x fem!reader) 18+

*°࿐

“mmmph-”

you moaned against dean’s hand as he rocked his cock up into you, his tip brushing against your cervix.

“shhh, baby…” he cooed quietly, glancing over at his brother asleep in the bed next to yours.

“mmm, can’t…” you murmured against dean’s hand, following his gaze to the younger winchester. sam’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, his lips parted as soft breaths flowed in and out of his lungs.

dean’s hand stayed clamped over your mouth as his eyes flickered back to yours. your walls squeezed around him in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from gushing down his length again; you knew you couldn’t stay quiet if that happened.

“baby, come on,” dean muttered through laboured breaths, “shhhh.”

you couldn’t help the little whimpers and grunts that escaped you as dean continued to thrust his hips up into you, his girthy cock stretching your pussy so deliciously.

“ahh, dean,” you moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure continued to build.

“shhh…” dean whispered again, his cock twitching up into your cunt, “you wake sammy, babe, and he’ll be so mad.”

you felt your pussy tighten around dean’s cock again, nearing another orgasm at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. dean bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, trying to hold in a groan at the feeling. he was barely keeping himself together.

the quiet but lewd sounds of him pumping into your wet cunt filled the room, along with both your soft grunts and the squeaking of the motel bed.

sam let out a groan and rolled over to face you and dean. you both froze, watching and waiting for his hazel eyes to flicker open and catch you two in the act.

but they didn’t. instead they stayed shut. dean hesitantly slid himself back up into you, keeping his eyes on his brother. you watched sam too.

your thoughts started racing around in your head and you couldn’t deny it, some fucked up part of you kinda wanted to get caught riding dean.

dean’s fingers began rubbing your sensitive clit again, making you whimper as he thrusted in and out of you.

“shush, i’m serious.”

you pouted against his hand, “c-can’t… feels too good…”

he gripped your face tighter, “we’ll have to stop if you can’t keep quiet, baby.”

his words sent a flash of panic through your body, your head instantly shaking as you grinded on him, desperate to show him you can be good.

“that’s it. nice and quiet,” he said breathily, feeling you clench around him even more, knowing you were about to let go, “stay quiet for me, angel.”

you hissed and tried to hold back whimpers as you came all over his cock again, your juices leaving a creamy ring around his length as he pumped into you.

dean groaned at the feeling of you gushing all over his cock. his own release washed over him. he shot thick warm ropes of his seed deep into your cunt, making you whimper and clench again as his hips jerked up. he pulled you down against him and buried his head in your neck, letting out louder grunts and moans.

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” sam groaned. you felt a pillow hit the side of you as you laid flat on dean, his softening cock still inside you. you laughed softly in dean’s ear.

“sorry, sammy,” dean smirked as he rubbed your back. he moved his head to look over at his brother, who had turned away and pulled the blanket over his head completely.

dean laughed and pulled you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered in your ear, “oops.”

A/N: wrote and edited this high so ignore it if something’s grammatically incorrect or doesn’t make sense LOL anyways poor sam :( i’m laughing so hard

requests and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! thank uuu <3

[beanlot]

indecision

ellie wants you back, even though she ended the relationship.

wc: 2.1k (angst + smudge of fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“just get it over with, please.” she exhales jaggedly, smell of rubbing alcohol poisoning your nose as you apply pressure onto her wound. she’d been shot with an arrow, one you’d had to snap to pull out of her, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

she didn’t squirm, or whine when you bandaged her up. she sat still and took it, clenching onto the old and tattered leather seat.

you’d dated ellie for a shaky and indulgent two years before. your relationship at first was it - it was her looking at you when she’d done something clumsy or funny in hopes to see you laugh, it was holding each other tightly after you’d gotten separated, it was her lips kissing at your skin fruitfully. you remember it so clear.

“mm. baby.. baby..” you hear her voice, low and groggy. you’ve woken her up, shuffling around endlessly for half an hour trying to sleep. “baby.. shh. relax.. relax with me, you’re fine.” her hand settles on your hip, and she’d bring you in closer, tatted arm ravelling around your stomach. she was so gentle, so guiding, so protecting. “shh.. i’m here. i’m here, my love..”

ellie felt bad for ending it, it was necessary. there were times where she’d refuse to communicate, you would lose your temper, and start yelling at each other. you’ve grown hard around the edges over the years, your skin is scarred and tormented. it’s not your fault.

“oh shut the fuck up, ellie!” you spat at her. truth is, your arguments brewed for a few weeks. it started with glares, sly comments and ignoring eachother until it erupted. “you always do this, speaking to me like you’re so much better just becau-“

“speaking to you like what? just because i don’t sit on my ass here all day whilst everyone else does the work?”

the best thing to do was to break up, for both of your sakes. you were fine with it at first, you knew it was for the fucking best. you were starting to despise eachother’s company; you knew you’d get over it. because just like the scars and torment weren’t your fault, ellie was often blinded by hatred and impulse, it’s how the world shaped her.

“you know what.. i think.. we should just.. stop.” ellie scoffs.

“stop what?”

“us. it’s not fucking working. i can’t stand you.”

but what you couldn’t get over was overhearing her speak with dina, flirty and sultry tones bouncing back and forth between them a week later. they’d slept together, not long after that breakup.

and here you are, a few months later, knelt in front of her to relieve her physical pain.

“thanks..” a quiet whisper left her as you shoved the materials back into your bag. you’re still on high alert, ellie says that you always are, it’s like walking on eggshells being in a room with you.

she watches as you keep your eyes on the windows, peering through the blinds, your pupils narrow like the scope of a sniper. she tries to lighten the mood, tries to relax you a little. “a year ago, you would’ve passed out.” she jokes, a breathy laugh leaving her. but you don’t laugh.

i think that’s also what ate away at ellie during the end of the relationship. you used to have fun, and live, and look forward to the next day. but you’re a different mind in the same shell she used to love, and part of her believes she’s accountable for not being there for you.

you hear her whisper, as you sink into the chair opposite her, your head leant back towards the ceiling. “you okay..?” her voice is cautious, but she knows what’s up, she’s not stupid.

“fine.” you state bluntly.

it’s silent. she feels hopeless. you’re so cold now. but on the bright side, at least she no longer has to listen to your words of kindness easing her through the pain, or drink the poison of your fucking maturity.

“i’m sorry. for it.” you hear her. she’s darting her eyes around your body, the long scar under your jawline, the scratches on your wrist from trying to slice nettles out of the way. you try not to smile at her apology, because it’s pathetic. “it’s whatever.” you respond, your voice uninterested.

you feel sour thinking about it now, actually. you could’ve left her to those hunters, left her to infected, left her to bleed out and clean her wounds herself. “did you enjoy it?” you impulsively ask her, a saltiness to your tone that she was anticipating.

her stomach still drops though, and she can sense the eggshells cracking around her. “what?” she mutters, her eyes narrowing at you as you look at her. you used to look at her with delicacy, adoration, desire. but now your eyes are empty, glossed over; ellie could only describe it as you looking through people rather than actually looking at them.

“you know. sleeping with her that quickly, was she good? worth?”

it’s silent, and you’re both staring at eachother with challenging eyes of contempt. she gets it, understands your anger, yet she also can’t seem to wrap her head around your entitlement. “what are you sa-“

“scale of 1 to 10.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” ellie’s voice goes up a pitch. she wish she could stand up and grab your throat, try and knock some sense into you. but not only is the pain in her shin holding her back, it’s also the fact you’d hold up an ambiguous fight. “are you serious?” she leans forward in disbelief.

but when you don’t respond, your gaze unfaltering, she sighs.

“i don’t know.. like.. an eight, i guess..”

it was a rhetorical question, asshole.

you’re sure she answered it out of spite, and you feel internal rage. but you don’t let it show, you just nod with pursed lips. “i’m happy for you.” you state coldly. you wish you had the heart to just leave her here, take shimmer up north back to jackson, but you don’t.

it’s silent for a few minutes. she’s often glancing back at you, already regretting her answer. although it was a truthful answer, she should have kept her mouth shut. but the damage has already been done, she sees it honing on your face as you look elsewhere.

“i’m..” she starts, sighing. “i’m sorry.. that was fucked, it’s all fucked.” she shakes her head. you’d been forgiving and graceful enough to snap an arrow and pull it out her leg, bandage it up for her. and yet she sits here as if she uses that same arrow to pierce at your heartstrings, play you like an instrument, even if you act as if it’s not affecting you under your stoic mask.

“can you come here…

please..?”

you look at her, and her eyes are brimmed with vulnerability. you stay in your seat for quite some time, until you muster up the patience to approach her.

she feels you dip into the space beside her. she wants to reach out, touch your skin, marshmallow you up how she used to. but she knows she can’t, she has no right. “you don’t have to forgive me.. i just..” she whispers. “i wanna say i fucked it all up, for us. i know i did..”

you digest her words, your eyes darting around the ceiling in contemplation.

“i just don’t..” she pauses, her eyes ponder down to her thighs, and then down to her bandage that you had wrapped. she’s trying to word her next sentence without it sounding so morbid, but she cant. “i don’t wanna lose you one day, knowing you hated me.” she murmurs, waiting for an inkling of emotion on your face - anything, she’ll take anything - but it doesn’t come.

she’s dreamt about it. having you in her arms, choking on your own blood, using your last efforts just to spit out a malicious i hate you.

“i thought the.. whatever with dina would’ve got rid of you.” ellie squeezes her nose bridge, trying to explain in a way that doesn’t sound so bullshit. she doesn’t want to say that she had sex with her, even though that’s what it was. “i fucked her over too.. she didn’t do anything wrong, but she was.. just there.”

wow, you really are a scummy piece of shit, els.

she knows what you’re thinking when she looks over at you, your eyes nailing into her. “i know..” she whispers, and you notice her hand slowly raising, hesitant to graze your own. you flinch when she does this, and she notices your hand inching away from hers. “i know it sounds bad. because it is, it’s my fault.”

she looks down at your hand, her eyes desperate, pupils dilated when they look at you. “please let me..” her voice is tender, affectionate with you. you’re invested in it slightly, letting her nails run along your palm, her touch a wintry feather tickling your skin.

“i just.. i’ll do anything. anything to make it up to you, no matter how long it takes.” she whispers, and you feel her touch leaving your hand. you feel like ice when it does, only to feel piping hot again when she cups your cheek. it’s intimate, but it’s genuine: it’s regret and sorrow, self-hatred and adoration. “i just want you to know, that i know i’m a fucking asshole, i still am..”

“you make me sick.” your voice is piercing and cold towards her. but she understands your rage, and she takes it, absorbing it with accountability. “i needed you. and you fucking left me.”

ellie’s gaze is weak. she’s thinking of your pain, of your scar-covered back and tormented bruises. the ones she couldn’t be there to kiss and treat. when you had came back from torrington after a few weeks’ travel, and she had heard from maria that you were ‘all kinds of fucked up’ and ‘in need of stitches’ under the jaw, she’d dissociated for hours in her room.

she could’ve been there, could’ve helped stop the bleeding, could’ve killed the bastards who had done it to you. prevented it in the first place. you were always there for every tear that dropped from her pretty eyes, every injury, every nightmare. and yet you did it all alone.

“i know.. i know.” she whispers, and you close your eyes when you feel her forehead press against yours. it’s not romantic, it’s just impulse. she wants to just feel close with you again, absorb your warmth, feel the safe haven she neglected and left to rot. “i’ll do anything. you have no idea. anything, i’m begging you.”

you can feel her breath, she’s so close to you, so hurt. she knows she has so many - too many - amendments to make for you.

“i almost died yesterday.”

her whisper is faint, and her eyes are focused on everything, yet nothing at the same time. glossed over in daydream, inanimate and empty. “we were.. i don’t know, going down the southeast, by those cabins..” she tries to recall, memories blurred with the overwhelming poison of your ill feelings towards her. “this guy.. i was just on the floor suddenly, and he’s coming down at me with an axe.

and if it wasn’t for jesse, i would’ve..” she continued, pausing before her eyes glint. “but in my last fucking moments, all i could see was your face. and i just.. i didn’t feel fear, i just.. felt so much regret. and, love. worried about what would happen to you after.”

her words were reluctant at first, but came streamlining out of her mouth when she’s reminded of each emotion that came with having her back against the mud, life flashing between her eyes, the split-second images of your pretty face next to the fireplace. the way you called her name, ellie, so vanilla. so clean. so smooth.

“i felt like.. i just should’ve told you everything, talked it out. i don’t want you to feel bad for me. i’m just.. i am begging you..” she repeats, a faint and delicate whisper against your lips. “if you want me to disappear, i’ll go. i’ll never bother you, you’ll never see me again in that fucking town..”

something about that proposal doesn’t sit right with your heart, or your head. you can’t tell. a part of you wants to slap the shit out of her, and another part wants to kiss at those lips - not out of love, but out of hateful lust.

“it was never about you. it was about.. me. my failure to be a decent fucking person, to be the person you.. needed. it was my own weakness.”

you sluggishly and reluctantly pull away from her, and watch as her gaze softens into disappointment. “i should.. go check on shimmer.” you whisper, rising to your feet, emotionally warped. “you just.. sit here and rest..”

she has to accept consequences of her own actions.

as you start walking backwards and turn away from her, you can just hear all the emotions inside screeching in your head. it’s loud, blinding, deafening; you know ellie experiences it too, the same voices that just get too much. maybe that’s what dina was to her, white noise to dilute them.

she wants to chase you back, grab your wrist and talk it out. but the throbbing tremors from her wounded leg force her to slump back down into the chair with a defeated sigh. she lets you go, just this time, not willingly.

[uronlywon]

INTENTIONAL OR UNINTENTIONAL? ; drabble ➤ overstimulation with hyung line + jungwon . . .

pairing .ᐟ hyung line + jungwon x afab!reader

contains .ᐟ dom!heeseung, soft dom!jay, dom!jake, mean dom!sunghoon, dom!jungwon, jay being husband material at the end, sunghoon being down right mean

warnings .ᐟ MINORS DNI, porn without plot, overstimulation, use of pet names (pretty, baby, love), riding (heeseung), praising (heeseung + jake), mentions of dacryphilia (sunghoon), jealous sex (jungwon), lmk if there’s more

vee's note .ᐟ i wrote this in about 2 hours at 4am (finished 6am)  so if some parts don’t make sense, i’m sorry. feel free to tell me if there are any parts that i could improve a bit :D also you can kind of tell where my creativity plummets lmaoo

total wc .ᐟ [ 0.8k ]　　other works . . . masterlist ; read more !

LEE HEESEUNG (이희승) — intentional

I feel like Heeseung is the type to make you overstimulate yourself. You’d be riding him, and after your first orgasm, he’d tell you to keep going, “C’mon, pretty. Keep moving those hips f’me,” he’d say. Listening to his orders, you’d make an attempt to continue moving your hips on him, but due to the sensitivity you gained, your attempt was quite pathetic. “H..Hee, I can’t– ‘m tired..”, you whine, halting your movements to a stop. I just know he’d laugh at how fucked out you are. “Tired? You were just fine a minute ago, baby,” he teases, brushing the hair sticking to your face out of the way. “That’s fine, pretty, that’s why I’m here,” Heeseung continues, placing his warm hands on either side of your hip bones. “You look so gorgeous like this, Y/n. Could have you on my cock all day,” He would coo and end up moving your hips for you. ”That’s it, taking me so well, hm?”

━━━━━

other members ⬇️

PARK JONGSEONG (박종성) — intentional / unintentional

I’m a little bit on the fence for Jay. I can see him overstimulating you both intentionally and unintentionally in the same fuck session. He’d start off intentionally, pushing you a bit after your first orgasm, “Sorry, love, just a little bit more–”, he’d say this because he was trying to reach his own high, but to do that, you’d have to hang on a little longer. Passing that, he wouldn’t realise you’ve already had enough, making it to the point where you have to tell him to stop, “Ha-.. Jay! Can’t take anymore!”. I feel like he just wouldn’t realise how many more times you’ve came after the first time, if that makes sense, “Ah fuck– I’m sorry Y/n.” In the end Jay would apologise and give you literally the best aftercare. He’d always wipe you clean with a damp towel and run a warm bath for you. “You okay now? Does it hurt anywhere?” Jay would question, peppering you in soft kisses.

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SIM JAEYUN (심재윤) — unintentional

Jake would be too lost in pleasure to realise you’d have already come. The man is like a dog in heat, not even kidding, “Fuuck Y/n, you f..feel so fucking good.” He’s the type to just continuously praise you while you fuck, which is partially the reason why he wouldn’t take notice of your desperate pleas for him to slow down. “Sensitive– Jake… Jake! P-please slow-..” You’d say, but he’s so busy praising you whilst he pounds into your used hole. It would take him a while to realise you’ve been begging him to tone it down a little, only realising when he feels the sensation of your nails digging deep into the flesh on his shoulders. “Oh god, I’m so fucking sorry, baby, I-I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He’d say after realisation hits, and he would continuosly apologise to you over and over again. “Y/n, I’m sorry about before–” “I already told you that I’m fine, Jake,” You’d laugh.

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PARK SUNGHOON (박성훈) — intentional

Let’s be real, Sunghoon is the cruellest one out of everyone. He will definitely overstimulate you on purpose, and he isn’t even sorry about it, “Yeah– There you go Y/n, such a good little slut f’me, huh?” Sometimes, it would get so bad that you would be crying and begging him to stop, “Mmn! ‘t’s a..a lot, too much– Ah!~ Hoonie!”. To be honest, I think he has a little dacryphilia. Just watching your tears streaming down your pretty face turns him on. He would coo and mock your begs, degrading you in the process, “You’re already crying? I’ve only made you come twice, how pathetic are you?” Sunghoon just seems like the type to be really mean during sex, dismissing all your begging and just continuing to fuck you into oblivion “N-no more Sunghoon, please!” “Who’s Sunghoon? I only know Hoonie. You’ll take whatever the fuck I give you.”

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YANG JUNGWON (양정원) — intentional

Jungwon would sooo do it intentionally, and we all know that he is in fact a jealous guy based on the questions fans asked at fansigns. He’d have you pressed into the mattress of your shared bed after seeing you all over one of your guy friends, “You don’t touch your friends like that, huh?” He asked you, driving you to your 3rd orgasm of the night. Jungwon isn’t a mean dom, but I can see him intimidating you with his words. “Won ‘m sorry, p-please s-stop I can’t.. Can’t do another–” You’d apologise, then he’d scoff at you and start saying things in between thrusts. “Oh so now you’re sorry?” Thrust. “You sure didn’t seem sorry when you were all over that guy’s arm, yeah?” Thrust. “Surely you can give me another, Y/n. Isn’t that right? Thrust. He wasn’t going to falter, no matter how much you apologised or begged him to. “I-I really am sorry! A-ahn!”

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