#there he would sing all their names. (musings)

[void-tiger]

…that moment when you’re quite literally told to Love Yourself, For GOD’S SAKE in front of the class 💀

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Their nicknames for you

Warning: No warning!

SYLUS:

Peeping Tom - You like to enter the shower when he's in, and he can no longer count on his fingers how many times you walked in on him changing, not that he's shy. Despite this, he doesn't lock the door to his closet or the bathroom. One day, when you're off guard, he'll definitely pounce at you.

Mrs. Boss (Alt. Little boss) - You weren't married, no, but with how you treat him, he feels like a husband. Despite being the boss of Onichynus, it's amusing to see you hand out orders. This nickname is something he'd use while you're undercover and using your aristocrat alter-identity. The Mrs. was something he used because he likes to imagine you're married to him; after all, no man can match you other than him.

My Wife - Again, you weren't married, but people can't seem to take a hint when he says he's not interested. At every event, someone is bound to throw themselves at him and insist on being his company, but with a simple mention of "I have a wife," followed by a statement about you being displeased or angered, they scurry away. You don't know he uses that nickname in front of strangers, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop anytime soon.

Other nicknames: Dessert Vacuum, Little Birdie & Little Hamster

Xavier:

Ms. Idol - He once overheard you singing out loud while you were in the shower. When you were at the karaoke bar, madly drunk, you kept stealing the microphone from your peers. Sometimes, he also likes to listen to you hum. He deems it appropriate to give you that nickname.

Little Star - You were very skilled against him in kitty cards, and it didn't feel appropriate to give you the nickname "Best Player in Linkon City, Queen of Kitty Cards," so he just called you the Little Star. How that nickname correlates to the game is unknown to you, but oh well.

Personal Pillow - He likes to sleep on you. On your shoulder, on your thigh, even against your back—he can and will go to sleep if he could. Xavier would always wake up with you in his embrace, and you never really complained, so he continued doing it. He'll only use this nickname whenever you're staying up late, and he's waiting for you to go to bed. You'll be in the living room, and you'll hear him say, "I need my pillow to sleep!"

Other nicknames: Pastry Princess & Pretty Lady

Rafayel:

Bully - With your frequent teasing and provocation, you ought to see this one coming. This is his nickname on your phone, and you didn't really know it until you snooped around. Once you find out, he outright calls you a bully whenever you poke fun at him for doing something.

My Muse - He doesn't call you this face-to-face, but this is your nickname when Rafayel is talking to art buyers and connoisseurs. They often ask about who he's drawing inspiration from. He sometimes says "his lover," but to him, it felt more exciting and intriguing to refer to you as his muse.

Starfish - This was a testament to your habit of hogging the entire bed. Every time you sleep over, you end up sprawled all over the bed like a starfish stuck to glass. Rafayel had to endure the small space that he had left on his bed and altogether just slept on the sofa on bad nights. Sometimes, he'd be surprised to wake up with the bed all to himself until he looked at the floor. And there you were in the same position, except flipped over.

Other nicknames: Pufferfish/Koi Fish, Beau, Cutie

Zayne:

Ms. Hunter - He uses this nickname when you're in the hospital getting treated for an injury from work. This is a nickname that's also a sign: a sign that Zayne is mildly pissed at your carelessness at work. When he uses this nickname, he becomes formal with you until you get a good dose of scolding from him.

Honey - He uses this on a daily basis inside your home and when he's on his day off. This was sort of like your second name, and whenever you hear the word, you almost always turn to look at Zayne. You call him honey, too, but you prefer the shorter version: Hun.

Sweetheart - This is a nickname Zayne uses to comfort you. Whenever you have a bad day or are in a bad mood, Zayne will automatically enter 'doting-lover' mode. He'd use this to refer to you and break down your emotional walls until you can tell him what's wrong. 10/10 if he uses this nickname outside of those moments, then it means Zayne is asking you to do him a favor of some sort.

Other nicknames: Sweetie & Wife

Caleb:

Angry Bird - Caleb calls you this because back then, you had the temperament of a fussy old lady. He'd always find a way to piss you off, and you'd run after him with a stick or something that you could hit him with.

Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[skyscrapergods]

has being fucking Massive and Immortality changed the alicorns’ perspective on regular ponies? I imagine they’d get more condescending and distant and stuff

You are surrounded by flies. If you pause, and look closely, you realize the flies are iridescent, with deeply colorful eyes, and beautiful wings like stained glass. It cannot see the colorful windows of your world, but you can try to describe them. But know that doing so take up the creature's precious time. Years to them is mere hours to you. In a long conversation about the stars, you and the fly share ideas and perspectives. You come away delighted with a new view on constellations and what they mean to the common folk.

The fly comes away dazzled, haunted, and halfway to the grave. What was to you a wonderful conversation was years of study, communion, and dedication on the part of the small creature. He gave up any other pursuits, he constructed his life around this cause. He lost his friends, family, and home. You lost your lunch break.

You love this creature. You love the small being that you once were. You want to talk to him again. You want to tell him of the stars, of dreams... but to speak with him twice, at least meaningfully, would take from him the rest of his life. Could you demand that from him for the sake of your own curiosity? Years passed for him already. In the time it took you to draw a breath, his childhood ended. Do you summon him again? Or do you let him go to live his life, what's left of it?

It is painful for everyone. It hurts something in your chest, it breaks the heart of a god. It wounds his family to watch him leave them behind for the sake of what? A mere whim? He had ambitions! He had a story! It's all gone now. Rewritten for your musings.

You leave him. He cries for you but he needs not a goddess. He needs to live, to turn from the sky to his fellow bugs.

That's what he is. A fly. A mere insect to you. To hold him down is to pin him through his soft center, and display his corpse as a record of his extinction.

So look away. Forget the color of his eyes, the sound of his voice, and the intelligence that stirred you to pluck him out his world and keep him in yours. There, he would be a wildflower with a cut stem. He would be beautiful, but he is so small, and so quiet. He would be just a decoration on your table; made to dance and sing for your amusement and then tossed out with the rubbish when he breaks.

You miss him. You love him. But he is a crawling worm and you are the rain. There are many others like him, but you must be careful to only speak a few words to each. Or better yet, say nothing at all. Let them fade and mix into a writhing blur without name, stories, or opinions on stars.

You are surrounded by flies.

[ellecdc]

pls tell me u will write a part 2 for not alone?🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

took me a while to get this to feel cohesive (also couldn't decide for the longest time what I wanted the outcome to be for a few people so that took a while to figure out) and I'm still not 100% sure it reads cohesively but I hope you all like it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who they are 'worried' about...whatever that means [2.2k words]

part 1 | part 2

CW: hostage situation, attempted overtaking of camp, brief and hardly noticeable implied suggestion of SA, death of minor and unnamed character, blood, injury, Sirius being an arrogant son of a bitch even when his life is at risk

You have quickly come to realise why the boys chose this location to set up camp since agreeing to stay with them.

It was in a rural, secluded area with a small population prior to the End Of The World As You Knew It which left it almost next to empty now, but it was still in walking distance of a small town with various shops that they could pilfer when they began running low on supplies.

There was a creek about half a kilometre behind the barn that they could use to collect drinking water and also to bathe and wash their clothes.

And need to bathe and wash your clothes did you ever. 

So, whilst “keeping an eye on the encampment” (which was really just a polite translation of none of the boys trusting you enough with their safety to bring you along on a run into town), you opted to head down to the creek to clean up. 

The water was freezing, but you breathed through the pain in your toes and fingers as you waded into the water, reminding yourself that feeling pain meant you were alive - that you were still here. 

You used to fear pain - before - but now you almost craved it; now you found comfort in the discomfort, knowing that it meant you had survived another day. 

Soon enough your body acclimated to the cool, running water and you submerged yourself into the deepest part to let the steady flow wash away the layers of grime, dirt, and sweat that you were likely covered in. 

There was a time in your life you probably would have felt rather horrified that three very attractive men had seen you in such a state - but it seemed that there was no room for vanity or ego in an apocalypse.

Once you were cold enough that you were sure you had squiggle lines surrounding your being like an old cartoon character, you used a rock to scrub at your clothes, feeling (though cold) quite peaceful as you listened to the trickling water and various birds singing around you. 

You laid your soaked clothes on a boulder in the sun to dry and pulled on a second set of clothes - or rather, your only other set of clothes. You wondered for a moment if you should have more - how many sets of clothes should one have in an apocalypse? You couldn’t bear the thought of having to carry around a third change of clothes, so came to the conclusion that you were fine with just the two.

You were interrupted in your musings when you heard your name being shouted. 

“James?” You called back, hastily finishing tying your shoes before grabbing your gun. 

But it was Sirius you saw first, sprinting through the bushes and staring at you with a mixture of dread and outrage. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked him as he stalked towards you. 

“Where the fuck were you?!” He barked instead of answering, looking like he was just itching to grab you roughly by your shoulders.

“I- what? I was here? What happened? Is everything okay?” You continued, not moving your eyes from the fuming man in front of you as you heard James and Remus step through the bushes Sirius had just come bursting through. 

“No, everything is not okay; the fuck were you thinking just taking off and not saying anything!?” He berated you.

“Pads.” Remus warned carefully; slightly breathless from chasing the long-haired man over to you. 

“You’re a fucking piece of work.” Sirius spat with finality before turning and shouldering his way past Remus and James, disappearing through the bushes on his way towards the barn.

“Was the trip not successful?” You asked quietly once you could no longer hear Sirius storming away. 

“No… it was.” James offered cautiously. 

“He was just… worried about you, dove.” Remus placated.

You shot him an unimpressed glare. “He was worried about me, not about me.” You muttered back, shoving your gun back into your bag and running your fingers through your wet hair that was leaving damp patches on your shirt. “If you guys don’t want me here, just say so, but if you’re going to keep me around you’re going to have to start trusting me.”

“We do trust you.” James argued, causing you to scoff derisively as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Not enough to join anyone on excursions! And not enough to take a night-watch shift alone; but sure, add taking a fucking bath to the list of things you definitely trust me to do.”

You didn’t wait for a response before you were stalking back to the barn, leaving your clothes behind to dry for the rest of the afternoon. 

You were just about to push through the slightly open door (none too gently, either, mind you) when you heard Sirius’ voice.

“There’s no one else; I’m alone.” 

Ice cold dread seeped into your bones as you held your breath in wait for a response.

“Are ya now?” A cocky voice taunted. “This seems like quite the setup for one bloke.”

You crept along the edge of the barn until you found a hole you could peek through.

Sirius was kneeling with his hands up in surrender whilst three men stood before him - one man loomed over him and the other two formed a blockade between him and the barn door as well as the stairs to the loft. 

“What can I say?” Sirius countered. “I’m quite the bloke.”

The man currently interrogating Sirius was apparently not interested in his haughty quips and slammed the butt of his rifle into Sirius’ jaw, causing him to fall over.

You quickly looked over your shoulder, ears straining to see if you could hear Remus or James following you back, and you prayed to a God that you weren’t even sure you believed in anymore that they had decided to stay at the creek to give the two of you a chance to cool down. 

You crept back along the side of the building slowly before pulling yourself up the ladder to the hay hood that Remus had put up as an emergency exit. 

You could kiss that brilliant, brilliant man right on the mouth for it now. 

You crouched low and snuck over to look beyond the edge of the loft; the man with the rifle was the only one with a firearm from what you could see, the other two men holding only a crowbar and machete. 

You silently opened your rucksack, pulled your gun out and put a knife between your teeth as you edged closer to the beams so you were effectively standing directly atop of the man currently looming over top of Sirius.

“I’m not gonna ask you again, where the fuck are the others?” He spat at him.

“We heard the lot of you arguing - we could just finish you off and go looking for them, if that’s what you prefer.” One of the cronies added tauntingly.

“You’d be looking for an awful long time.” Sirius grunted as he spat blood out from his mouth. “Seeing as I’m alone.” 

“Stop fucking lying.” The interrogator barked as he landed a kick to Sirius’ ribs. “Pretentious or not, one bloke doesn’t need four sleeping bags.” 

“How do you know I, hmph,  didn’t find it like this?” Sirius choked out as he rolled onto his back where he spotted you in the rafters. 

You brought your finger to your lips, and Sirius let his head roll back towards the guy so as to not alert him to your presence. 

You watched as one of the guys - the one with the machete - started poking around the makeshift kitchen area, and the other moved towards the door to keep watch.

Taking the split attention of the group to your advantage, you waited for Sirius to look back up at you before you jumped from the rafters.

Sirius rolled out of the way just before you landed on the interrogator, the two of you crashing to the ground - though you were the only one prepared for the impact - causing the rifle to slip out of his grasp which you kicked towards Sirius. 

You slipped the knife from between your teeth and held it against the interrogators throat and pointed your gun at the machete wielding man, firing a shot which hit him in the right shoulder. 

The man with the crowbar who had been stationed near the door made for you when Sirius shot the rifle, the bullet grazing the man's thigh and bringing him to his knees. 

Your ears rang when an elbow met your temple right before a fist connected with your mouth as the interrogator forced you off of him. 

“Is this why you were lying?” The man spat as he stood above you. “Trying to keep this thing all to yourse-”

Sirius shot the rifle again, silencing the interrogator for good as he fell to the ground with a thud. 

Apparently, the machete wielding man didn’t deign to wait around and see how things played out after you’d shot him in the shoulder and had fucked back off from whence he came, so you and Sirius pointed your firearms at the last man still standing (or… you know, breathing at least) who seemed to have the sense to raise his hands in surrender. 

Remus and James appeared at the barn door, then - both winded from clearly having run at the sound of shots being fired - to find the two of you holding the remaining captor captive.

“Nice of you to come by, boys.” Sirius joked as he lowered the rifle with a pained groan now that Remus and James each had a weapon pointed at the attempted usurper. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Remus barked as he took in the body on the ground and the state of each of you at the same time James murmured “we thought you were firing at each other”. 

“Oh, take a wild guess.” Sirius muttered bitterly, hissing in pain as he lowered himself into a chair. 

“How many were you?” Remus barked at the man, sounding so unlike himself that it actually made you flinch.

“Fo-four, four of us and a 12 year-old. Us…three and then a woman and the child stayed back.” He responded quickly. 

“From around here?” James continued.

“No…passing through.”

Remus looked up from him to share a look with Sirius; a well practiced silent conversation passing between the two of them.

“Keep fucking moving then.” Remus gruffed as he grabbed the bloke by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the door.

Your - for all intents and purposes - home fell eerily silent then, save the sound of your attempted assailant’s leg dragging along the gravel road as he stumbled away from the barn.

“You alright?” Remus asked finally as he let out a breath.

“Fine, moons. Never better.” Sirius muttered.

You were too busy watching the blood pooling around the interrogators body to realise your companions were waiting for your response. 

You looked up at the lingering silence to see all of their eyes on you.

“M’fine.” You offered.

James hummed in acknowledgement, though you could sense disbelief in his tone. “Rem and I will get rid of him, okay? Please try not to get into any more altercations whilst we’re gone?” He tried to joke, but there was a lingering anxiety in his voice as he and Remus began wrapping the body up in a blue tarp.

“Do not go to sleep until we’re back; either of you.” Remus added before muttering something under his breath about concussions and how someone not concussed ought to be on watch in case they come back, except “they” was replaced with “those” and then some Welsh word that you were sure was simply very unflattering. 

Once they had left, you and Sirius sat in silence as you both grappled with what had just happened, and alternatively, what had just almost happened. 

You weren’t sure what you might have looked like - though the metallic taste of your teeth let you know that you at the very least had a busted lip - but Sirius’ jaw where the rifle had hit him was already turning a purple colour, his chin was scraped and bleeding from hitting the concrete flooring, and he had a protective hand placed over the ribs that were kicked. 

You wordlessly placed a bowl of water in front of Sirius before moving to your seat with your own bowl to clean the blood from your persons.

You could feel his eyes trained on you as you wiped away blood that was staining your face; likely equal parts your own and someone else's. 

“Don’t go down to the river alone… please.” You heard him say quietly suddenly, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your two arms fall from their tasks. 

“Are you still on this? Haven’t I proven my trustworthiness yet? Honestly, I-”

“It’s not safe.” Sirius interrupted; a strange look crossing his face as his brows furrowed at you. “It’s not safe.” He repeated, quieter this time. 

He stood abruptly then; abandoning his bowl of water and grabbing a pack of cigarettes before disappearing around the side of the barn for a smoke. 

Oh.

So apparently he had been worried about you, not about you.

And though you really wanted to feel embarrassed that they had picked anything like that out for you, you also couldn’t help but notice that a new jumper, trousers, and some knickers had been folded and placed on your sleeping bag for you.

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

A detail I love about Episode 4, is the symbol that appears in the music ball Charles finds and the meaning it has when it comes to his own story.

The relief in the ball, is a lyre, Orpheus' symbol. It was the musical instrument that he received as a gift from the god Apollo, who was considered his father in some versions of the original myth.

Note: In The Sandman Universe, Morpheus and the Muse Calliope are Orpheus' parents.

CHARLES: I found one of those at a maritime museum once. The Case of the Drowned Diver, wasn't it, Edwin? Superstitious sailors would use them to calm the seas.

Orpheus was well known as a talented musician; his music could intrigue people's minds with supernatural ideas and had the power to broaden their thinking to new and unusual theories.

When he joined the expedition of the Argonauts, he saved them from the Sirens' music by playing his own, more powerful and beautiful melodies. Later, it was also his music that allowed Jason to accomplish the purpose of his journey.

It makes sense that sailors used his symbol on an object designed to calm the seas and guarantee their safety while navigating.

When it comes to Charles, in particular, the way he ends up using the music ball (in the absence of a more technical name for that object) is both literal and metaphorical.

On one hand, he uses the music ball to put Angie, a sea monster, to sleep, thereby solving the case of The Lighthouse Leapers. On the other hand, he uses the instrument to save Edwin and himself from The Night Nurse—not just by literally pushing her into Angie's mouth with the ball in her hands, but by causing her to meet Kashina. This meeting prompts her to remember Kashi's words later, when Charles tried to save Edwin from returning to hell by pointing out it was a mistake, and again when he asked her to open a portal to hell so he could bring Edwin back.

In Orpheus' story, when Eurydice died from a snakebite, he charmed the ferryman Charon and Cerberus, the guardians of the River Styx, by playing the lyre and singing. By doing so, he also softened the hearts of Hades and Persephone, which gave him the chance to bring Eurydice back to the world of the living.

It's curious that the lyre symbolizes the power of persuasion for Orpheus, as this is a quality in which Charles takes great pride (he is indeed very convincing). Still, I hope that's where the coincidences end.

That's all for now. To everyone who knows about Orpheus' myth and the different versions of his story, I apologize for not quoting specific authors here.

[almostempty]

Want You Bad

Self Esteem Part 2

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel ignores you at the lake until he can't. Loosely inspired by the song Want You Bad by The Offspring (to stay on theme, ya know?).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), smash and dash, get railed against a truck, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, dirt, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: major thanks to everyone who read part 1, as well as my muse @auteurdelabre , and my co-chair of the horny4joel club @lovely-vamp-princess for encouraging me

WC: 4.8K

AO3: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 3: Kick and Scream

Masterlist: Here

Your fingers hover over the brightly lit screen of your phone. Your friend, Katie, invited you to a barbecue at Toad Lake and assured you it would be a relaxed group. Just food, drinks, sun, and swimming. But how can it be relaxing if Joel is going to be there? If he was even invited. If he even shows up. He drives you insane. It’s her fault anyway. 

Katie’s boyfriend was friends with Tommy. Tommy invited Joel to some karaoke night at a bar a few months back. That was the catalyst for your personal hell. You don’t even know why he showed up; he refused to sing anything. But he did offer to give you a ride home so Katie could leave with her man. 

You were surprised by the gesture. The way he’d barely said anything to you all night made you think he wasn’t interested in remembering your name. But the way his shoulders filled out the green flannel he wore and then when he rolled up the sleeves? He was like The Brawny Man come to life. And that paper towel mascot lookalike was so your type. In fact, the way he nearly flat-out ignored you was also a turn-on but not one you thought your therapist would approve of. So when he offered a ride, you accepted. 

You tested the waters on the ride home, attempting to make some small talk. He was different one on one. Charmed you with his sharp wit and some flirty compliments. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him, his hands, his arms, his profile, and his dark features in the glow of the streetlights. You lingered when he pulled up to the curb in front of your place. 

“I’m glad you drove me home,” you said, “it was nice to get to know you a little bit.” 

“Was nice,” he agreed dragging his thumb under his bottom lip, pulling your attention to his mouth,  “I’d like to get to know you a little more.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at that and smiled back. “Would you like to come inside?” you floated the offer, and the look on his face sealed the deal. 

But today, you haven’t heard from Joel in over a week. He doesn’t usually last much longer than two weeks before you find him at your door. He disappears just long enough that you start to build up the courage to tell him off for being a flake. The only reliable thing about Joel, though, is that when he does show up, he always leaves you feeling completely spent. What’s the harm in enjoying what he can do with his body? You don’t think you spend an unhealthy amount of time daydreaming about him. 

You don’t want to anticipate seeing him at the lake and get disappointed if he’s a no-show. Instead, you’d rather your chest constrict with anxiety until Saturday while you debate sending him a text to ask him yourself. You decide against it. You don’t want to double-text since he never answered your last message anyway. 

Saturday arrives quickly, and it’s the perfect day to be at the lake. Clear skies and hot sun. Your car is an oven as you slide your beach bag and cooler backpack into the backseat. You sit in the driver’s seat and roll down all the windows. You flip down the visor to look in the little mirror at your reflection.  

It’s casual, you remind yourself. Just friends, food, and floating in the lake. You put on some waterproof mascara anyway, definitely not because Joel might be there. You look casual. You found your favorite black bikini last night and tried it on to make sure it still fits the way you like. Basic triangle top and bottoms with strings that tie on your hips. It still fits snugly but without cutting into your back or shoulders. It hugs everything in the right places and displays all the right skin. For your friends. At the casual barbecue. 

You stare at yourself, practically pointing a finger at your reflection to drill the idea into your head. If he’s there, it doesn’t mean anything. If he wants to be nonchalant, you’ll be nonchalant even harder. And you’ll look good as you do. Give him a taste of the same rejection you keep experiencing. 

Toad Lake is almost a secret. It’s small, outside of town, and private except for one small area with access to swimming and a small dock. When you and Katie lived together, you used to hit it up after work. Jumping off the dock unless there were people fishing. Or just floating near the shore with pool noodles while debriefing about the day. 

You pull off the main road onto the winding gravel road that takes you to the public access. It’s dense with trees and full of potholes. You bounce along in your car, listening to the gravel crunch under the tires. 

Parking is tight. The first lot only fits five or six cars on the gravel spots, and past that, maybe another seven or eight would fit in the dirt spots. You recognize most of the cars already parked as you pull into one of the furthest spots. You don’t see Joel’s truck, and your stomach drops with a wave of disappointment as you pull in between someone else’s truck and a jeep. You don’t want to think about him or feel let down. 

There’s a short but steep and winding path that leads to the water. You round the corner, finally able to see through the trees to the beach, and recognize him immediately. The unmistakable frame of Joel Miller. The shape of his body and that signature stance. You’d recognize him by the back of his head in a crowd with one eye closed. Butterflies stir in your stomach, and at the same time, your throat feels dry. 

He’s such a dick, you think as you trudge down the path in your sandals. Maybe you should ask him if his phone still works. No. That would blow up in your face. You’d just be broadcasting that it hurts when he rejects you. You do not want to face that fear. Maybe coming here was a total mistake. Regret and fear claw viciously at your throat with each step you take. 

Joel seems to dance around you, just avoiding being on your path as you greet everyone and catch up. Tommy is friendly and chats with you for a moment before getting Joel’s attention, forcing you to interact. 

“You remember Joel, right?” he asks. 

You laugh brightly. “Of course, the one and only,” you say with a smile. 

Joel nods at you. Doesn’t even say a fucking word. His dark brown eyes just bore into you for the longest second before giving you a curt smile. Tommy laughs at something while Joel turns away to find something to look busy with. Or someone. You gawk briefly as you watch him turn to chat with some woman you don’t know. 

Blowing you off on your attempts at dates is one thing, but acting like he doesn’t even know you? What the fuck is with this guy? Who’s the woman he seems so friendly with? 

You remember how to close your mouth and decide to set up your spot along the beach. You strip off your T-shirt and adjust the straps on your bikini. Rifling through your bag for some sunscreen, you find the lotion first. Smiling to yourself, you imagine asking Joel to help get your back. Would he refuse? Would his lady friend be jealous? You actually don’t want to know. You dig around until you find the spray sunscreen. You don’t need a man applying any cream to your back. 

You swear you feel his eyes burning into you, but when you look around, he’s turned and talking to her. Whatever. You figure it’s safest for your sanity to head straight for the water. You grab your pool float and start to blow it up. You feel that burning sensation again, but you turn, and he’s busy swigging down a drink. You grab one for yourself, and with a drink in one hand and the pool float under the other arm, you march right into the water. It’s perfect. Just warm enough, it doesn’t shock your system. Cool enough to ease the oppressing heat of the sun. 

“The water is perfect! Why am I the only one in here?” you call to Katie. 

“Alright, I’m coming!” she calls back. 

You laze in the water for most of the afternoon. Chatting with friends, cheering on a wobbly friend learning to stand on a paddleboard, and just resting peacefully. 

Joel sits in a beach chair, observing. You stare back under your sunglasses, hoping it’s not noticeable. Your thoughts spiral again. What is his issue? You aren’t good enough? He doesn’t wanna get caught talking to you? You consider cornering Tommy to dig up some dirt, but it’s too late. Joel is pulling his shirt over his head. You’re locked on. You fight to keep from reacting. His sun-kissed frame strolls towards the lakeshore. You watch as he gets waist-deep before he pushes off and glides through the water. When his head re-emerges, and he shakes the water from his hair, you feel your mouth drop open. You quickly fill it with the beverage in your hand. 

You keep staring. Watching the beads of water roll down his shoulders. You’d like to sink your teeth into the skin on his neck. You’d like to wrap your legs around his hips under the water—“oh, shit!” you yelp. 

A kid swimming behind you got a little too excited, kicking water and splashing it all over your face. You grimace. You didn’t mean to swear at the kid. It was just the shock of it. No big deal. Since your hair is wet now anyway, you might as well get all the way in the water. 

You drop off your floaty and empty drink on your blanket. Tossing your sunglasses off, too. You walk back into the water and dive under yourself. It’s refreshing. You’re close to Joel when you pop up again. He looks at you this time. Acknowledges you’re a real, live human in front of him. 

“All wet now, huh?” he smirks. 

“Oh, fuck off, Joel,” you scoff at him. You swim away before he can say anything else. 

You lay out, letting the sun dry your wet skin. Until you’re ready to leave. The idea of a shower and aircon sounds pretty good to you. You gather your things, say your goodbyes, and hike up the path to your car. 

With your bags in the backseat, you grab your towel. Your bikini and hair are still dripping wet. You squeeze your hair with the towel when you hear someone approaching. You look over your shoulder, and of course, it’s him. You turn away, continuing to towel at your hair. You can feel his body hovering behind yours. 

“Hey, baby,” he says, low and syrupy.

“Are you joking?” you spew incredulously, not bothering to look at him. “Where’s your girlfriend?” 

“My what?” 

“I didn’t catch her name.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, baby. It’s not like that.” His large hands wrap around either side of your hips. “Y’look nice in this,” he coos, ignoring your spite and toying with the strings tied at your hips. You turn and shove at his chest. He leans against the truck behind him. 

“Why are you up here, Joel? You want to ignore me around our friends, then follow me to my car like a dog? You’ve got fuckin’ problems, man. Why are you looking at me like that?” 

He’s smiling at you like it’s endearing that you’re telling him off. 

“Oh my god, let me guess. You think I look sexy when I’m mad?” 

“No,” he defends and steps closer. He runs his fingers under the strap on your shoulder. His touch burns white hot against your skin, branding you. You shiver. “You always look sexy,” he rasps. It’s not charming. He’s still an ass. But it feels so good when he says it. He’s so close you can smell the sunscreen and sweat on his skin. Everything about his presence chips away at your defenses. 

“Could barely stand watching you in the water,” he adds. When did his mouth get so close to you? His hot breath runs over the shell of your ear. “Want you bad.” 

“Liar,” you argue with less venom. 

“Am not,” he hums. A hand slides up your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes are heavy with lust. He’s still smiling. You wonder if that’s how he’d look if you woke up next to him. A dreamy smile with his tousled hair and scruffy cheeks. 

He takes your hand, so delicate compared to his. Slowly, he brings it towards his body and wraps it around the stiff bulge in his swim trunks. “Feel like I’m lying?” He watches the tiny muscles in your face twitch as you suppress your reaction. Then your brows pull together, and you glare. 

“You think you can just follow me up here, get your hands on me, and then what? You’ll have me on my knees in the dirt for you? You think I wanna catch some dirty lake water disease from your cock in my mouth?” 

He squeezes your hand harder like his dick will argue for him. Maybe you’d hear it out. 

“You gonna tell me you don’t want this?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, “bet you’re wet from more than just the lake, pretty baby.” He’s not wrong, but you’re not going to admit it. Wait, did he say pretty? A laugh, shriek, and loud splash from the lake below breaks you out of his trance. Your tunnel vision expands. You pull your hand from his grip. 

“Why are you up here, Joel?”

“Couldn’t just watch you leave.” 

You scoff at him and whip back around. You’re quick, but he’s bigger and stronger. His hands pull at your hips, slamming your body back into his. The damp skin of his chest sticks to your back. 

“We’re not fucking in the parking lot,” you snap. You can feel how hard he is. Pressed against the curve of your ass. His swim trunks and your wet Lycra bikini are the only barriers between you. 

“Maybe s’what you get for being a filthy fuckin’ tease,” his gravelly voice rumbles in your ear. 

“How am I a tease?” you squirm against him, but the friction only makes both of you more pathetic as you gasp and he groans.

“Wearing this.” He pulls at the string of your bikini on one shoulder and lets it snap back. “Laying on that towel, ass up, like you were waiting for me to fill it,” he squeezes a cheek for emphasis, “floating in the water with these perfect tits barely hidden.” He pulls at the triangles of fabric covering them, sliding them apart until your breasts pop out. Exposing you under the shade of the trees. 

“You’re delusional,” you accuse. But all the venom is gone. The words come out breathy. His body is wrapped around you, constricting. His hand travels down your stomach, slipping under the bikini and between your legs. His fingers find exactly what they were searching for. Your slick folds part easily, welcoming his fingers deeper. 

“Doesn’t feel like a delusion to me, baby.” Wretched man. Always has to prove a point. You’re running out of the mental fortitude to argue. You also feel ridiculous, standing between someone’s truck and your car, tits out, his hand between your legs. 

“Isn’t someone gonna wonder where you are?” you try to find a reason you should stop. 

“No, said I had to make a call.” 

“A call? So your phone does work,” you chide, using your last brain cell. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy, effectively shutting you up. A moan is the only noise you can form. 

“Thought I already taught you to quit arguing with me.” His irritation is muffled by his lips pressed into the skin of your neck. 

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“You wanna try askin’ nicely?” he goads in your ear. His fingers curl as he drags them in and out of you. You let yourself focus on the sensation. Your head falls, chin to your chest, and you watch the muscles and tendons in his arm flexing and rippling while he works you into a needy mess. It’s hot. His arm is firm and tan from days spent working in the hot sun. Against the soft, cushiony flesh of your curves, it’s almost menacing, but it provides you with support. Like he could balance you forever against his one arm. He might have to if your knees give out. 

The noises coming from you both are obscene. You feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades, slowing down time. Joel moves shamelessly, his hips roll and grind into the swell of your ass. He’s curled around you like a wild beast claiming his prize in the forest. It gives you some kind of sick ego trip; he hurt you, but now he’s here attached to you with desperate want. You slide a hand behind your head, feeling for his soft, damp hair on the back of his head, confirming this whole perverse scenario is real. You tug at his hair, eliciting a rough groan from his lips. He seems to have forgotten his own question, entranced by you. 

Joel watches the sweat beading on your chest and runs his hot tongue up your neck into the hinge of your jaw. He savors your sweat-salted taste with a deep hum that vibrates from his chest into your spine. It lights sparks along your nerves. 

You grind back against him as his palm presses firmly into your clit, and his fingers keep stroking at just the right spot. The pressure building feels overwhelming. He’s all consuming the way he surrounds you. The sound of his breath, his scent, the way your skin sticks against one another, it floods your senses. Your breath quickens, and your muscles coil tight with tension, buzzing with need. 

“Give it to me,” his words scrape across gravel. The tension in your core snaps, abdomen spasming, and your pussy clenching at his fingers for more. The hand you have on the back of his neck clings tightly for support. He loosens his grip around you and slows his movements as you start to take deeper and deeper breaths of air. Fresh air. Because you’re in the parking lot at the lake. Your senses sharpen, and your vision clears. You fix your bikini top in a rush, adjusting the fabric and straps fighting through your tangled mess of limbs crossed with Joel’s. 

You can hear other footsteps on the path. Turning to face Joel, you flash a smile on your flushed face at him. 

“Good timing,” you quip as you look beyond Joel and past the bed of the truck to see who’s coming up the path. You wave at a couple of friends as they carry their bags to their vehicle. Joel doesn’t turn to look. Doesn’t seem to move a muscle. You look back at his face. 

One brow raised; he looks like he knows something you don’t. A frown pulls at your face. He executes his maneuver before you can devise a retort for his expression. He yanks hard on the ends of the bows that tie your bikini bottoms together. Your jaw drops as the fabric falls. Your hand flies out to slap his chest at the audacity, but he grips your wrist in his hand. 

“Not nice to hit people, baby,” he condescends as if you were the one in the wrong. You’re fuming. Blood boiling. 

“What–” you’re cut off by his other hand grabbing your jaw with a vice grip. 

“Quiet,” he snaps. You hear the sounds of the car backing out and pulling away. Tires kicking up a cloud of dust. You can’t see past Joel’s wide frame as he holds your head in place. You grab at his forearm, but it’s useless. You’re defenseless in his grip. Vulnerable between the vehicles and the trees. Why does that make your cunt ache and throb? You squirm. “You gonna behave?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question. 

“Uhuh,” you respond through your clenched teeth, your lips unnaturally squished and parted between his fingers and thumb. You give up on prying at his arm and run your hand down his bare chest towards his swim trunks instead. Your touch brings a smirk to his face. 

“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. Reading your sordid motives like a love letter, he carries on. He drops your jaw and readjusts your positioning. Joel moves you with ease. He lifts you and backs you into the window to the backseat of the truck, his hands under your thighs. If you had any sense left, you might consider it vulgar to be fucked wide open in a parking lot, but the animalistic expression on Joel’s face wipes your mind blank. You lock your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as if he were the one caught in your trap. He looks at you like he’s trying to etch all the details of you in this position into his mind. It stirs that depraved sense of pride in your chest. 

“Take it out,” he orders. You obey. Snaking a hand between your bodies to free his cock from his swim trunks. Both of you watch, chins tucked to your chests as your hand wraps around his stiff shaft. The sight makes your mouth water. He seems similarly affected. You think you’ll have hand-shaped bruises on the back of your legs the way his grip tightens and his fingertips dig into your skin. He leans closer, seeking your slick, wet entrance. You guide his leaking tip with your own pleasure in mind instead. He watches as you use him like a toy. You swirl the head of his cock around your swollen clit. The pressure and heat blur your vision. You slip him through your folds until he’s coated in your glossy arousal. You keep playing, creating lewd noises between your legs. He’s talking to you, you realize, and tune back in. 

“Keep teasin’ like that. Gonna fuck you til you can’t walk. Give it to this needy little pussy the way no one else can, right, baby? Stretch you out and fill you up. Send you home dripping.” He rambles on with his threats. They make you dumb. 

“Fuck, please, please, please,” you respond with tight exhales. 

His head shoots up. 

“You hear that?” he asks, and you freeze. Straining to listen. You can hear the birds in the trees. The muffled voices down at the lakeshore. You listen for voices or footsteps getting closer, but they don’t exist. 

“Hear what?” you pant. 

“The sound of you begging for my cock.”

Your face heats. You feel another surge of arousal flood your already-soaked center. 

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

“It’s a pretty sound, baby. Want you to be bad.” His words light something fierce inside of you. You need him inside you, now. He doesn’t help as you wiggle in his grip, trying to slip him inside of you. He exhales a puff of air in amusement at your struggle.

“Do it again. Beg.”  

“Please, Joel.” 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, fuck me. Need you to fuck me hard.” A twisted wave of humiliation and need for approval courses through you. Begging for him, trying to tug him closer. You’re a mess for him. 

“There she is,” he smiles. It’s devious, but it makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb even harder. 

You line him up with your entrance, and he fills you in one motion. 

“Fuck,” you mouth as your head slides back against the truck. He fulfills his threats and splits you around his cock over and over. His hips snap into you with a force that sends shockwaves rippling across your body. Joel fucks you like a man possessed. Driving into you brutally, rocking the truck behind you. You try to stifle the cries pouring out of your throat, focusing on breathing, squeezing your eyes shut, and digging your nails into his shoulders. Pinning you with his body frees his hand, and he wastes no time using it to grope at every inch of you he can. 

He slows and rocks into you more tenderly, confusing you. He peers around the cab and waves at someone. Oh, shit. They can’t see you through the cab windows, right? Fuck. 

“Hey, put me down,” you hiss. 

“It’s just Tommy,” he replies. How is that better? 

Then you hear him calling to Joel.

“Hey, you see my sunglasses on the dash?”

Joel looks through into the driver’s window as if you didn’t even exist. 

“Yeah, you want ‘em?” Joel calls back to Tommy. 

“Yeah, you comin' back down?” 

“Yep, be there in a minute if you want me to bring them.” He calls back to Tommy. Still rolling against you, just grinding at a mind-numbingly slow speed. 

“You’re sick,” you whisper at Joel while you grind back into him, and Tommy shouts a thank you in the distance. Joel thrusts up into you more harshly. Your breath catches as his eyes lock onto yours with his full attention. 

“Felt to me like you enjoyed the risk.” His voice sounds like a taunt, but he’s not wrong. Joel talking to Tommy like you weren’t wrapped around his cock sent a rush through your veins. You decide not to admit that out loud. 

“This is Tommy’s truck?” you ask between gasps. 

“Yep.” 

You had some snarky comment to make, but you give up as he resumes his pace, and your thoughts fade away. Joel’s filthy stream of consciousness starts up again between low grunts and groans. His voice and the noises he makes bounce around in your skull. He makes you feel weightless. 

Each time his hips meet the cradle of your pelvis, you nearly burst, complimenting his movements with an enthusiastic rhythm. You arch your spine, angling just a little deeper, chanting out breathy prayers of fuck, fuck, fuck, and yes, yes, yes, when he slips a hand down to draw circles around your clit. 

“That’s it. Let me feel it,” he demands as you writhe. 

You give in, and it drives him crazy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows pinch, your mouth hangs open, and your body involuntarily shudders against him. He feels the way you start to relax, but your body jerks and clings tighter to him a few more times. He can’t slow down. It fuels his unbridled urge to come inside you as deep as he can. 

“That’s my baby,” he husks. My baby? You feel butterflies as you try to catch your breath while he ramps up his force. 

“Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full.” 

“Yes,” you reply, not sure he’s even listening with the intensity of his look as he barrels towards his release. When he stills, and you feel it, you can’t stifle the sounds in your throat. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, and his hips lurch into you as if he could fuck his come any deeper. He smothers you as he comes down. With his chest crushing you into the truck, you can feel when his breathing starts to slow. You rake your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and breathing him in. Your pussy might be sore for a day, but your ego is full, and you feel sated. 

Joel pulls out of you with a barely audible pained noise and asks if you can stand before releasing you fully from his grip. 

“I still have two legs,” you joke. But you look like you might topple over if he lets go. He hugs you into him for a tender kiss; it’s quick, but you drown in it. He props you up and presses another kiss to your sweaty temple. 

Then it’s happening again. He pulls his shorts back up, opens the truck, and grabs Tommy’s sunglasses. You grab your towel to wrap around your naked lower half. The truck door slams, and you turn. He’s already walking away. 

“Drive safe,” he calls over his shoulder while you pick up your bikini bottoms from the dirt. 

An empty feeling starts to shroud your satisfied glow as the sound of his footsteps fades away. He did call you “my baby,” though. He doesn’t say that to just anyone, right? 

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 3.2k

taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!

an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...

You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...

These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.

Rafayel's stare was intense.

Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!

...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.

"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.

You were torn, somewhat.

You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.

...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.

Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.

You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—

"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."

You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.

However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.

Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.

Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—

But you felt like it was.

It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.

You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.

It was visceral.

It sent a tingle down your spine.

You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—

Was a siren's allure truly so confining?

You had nowhere to run.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...

Intentional.

"Little muse, you're blushing."

If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.

Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.

"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.

"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."

And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.

Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.

You couldn't take any more of this.

You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—

A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.

"Hey. You tired?"

Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.

It wasn't helping.

"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.

And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.

A smirk spread over his features.

You were in for it.

"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."

"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"

He grinned.

"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."

You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.

"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."

You wished you could slap that smile off his face.

Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."

You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.

And he noticed.

"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."

The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.

"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.

You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.

"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."

For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—

Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.

"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"

He was infuriating.

A menace.

This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.

You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."

Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.

It was foul play.

Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.

It was as if you were... a show.

"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.

His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.

"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."

You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.

You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.

"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.

You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—

"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"

Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.

Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.

"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"

Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."

The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"

"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.

"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.

But you did as he said, anyway.

The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.

"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."

It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.

And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.

Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.

"R-Rafayel..."

Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.

"Keep going, princess, I'm here."

Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—

"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"

In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."

His words proved enough.

"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.

"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."

His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."

You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.

He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.

"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"

You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.

"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.

But he smirked.

A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.

"R- Rafayel...?"

"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."

Don't mind me.

He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.

"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."

The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.

And he didn't dare stop there.

He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.

"Look at me, princess," he whispered.

And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.

Your breath hitched.

Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.

"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"

He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.

It had you moaning almost immediately.

"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.

You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.

It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.

Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.

"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"

"Yeah? Need what, hm?"

Oh, he was having fun.

"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"

The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.

All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.

You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.

Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."

⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[mingtinys]

lost for words

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

fluff , drabble , ultimate simp jihoon

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

requested ? no

a/n : this is what i imagine it would sound like if woozi wrote his own "shall i compare thee to a summers day"

Jihoon is nothing short of talented. A maestro amongst artists and a musical prodigy to his peers.

He can pluck strings until they sing and make his fingertips fly across piano keys in a way that makes them melt together into a symphony. He can breathe life into a school child's recorder that could charm a brewing storm and he can fit together words like a jigsaw to reveal a lyrical masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Trust, Jihoon has no qualms over his musical competence.

But how is it that he struggles to find any combination of words suitable to the occasion? Why now does his brain falter when it thinks of ways to encompass just how much he loves you? Not a dictionary in the world would be adequate enough to measure that of which he feels.

Because what he feels for you could not possibly be contained to ink on paper, you're much too special for something as archaic as that. Everything about you is so breathtaking. An enigma he's simply been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Jihoon could carve your likeness into crystal under the moonlight and it wouldn't be nearly as mesmerizing as the real thing.

Jihoon believes you outshine even the brightest stars against a jet-black sky. He'd choose the ones in your eyes to stare at for hours over the Milky Way in a heartbeat. Your voice sings a sweeter melody than Apollo's harp on a warm summer day. One he wishes he could capture and play on a loop for all of eternity. If all of history's greatest composers put their minds to one piece, still, they could not conduct a symphony worthy of your essence.

And, oh, how you call his name has him hearing bells. You light a fire inside him like flint dragged across steel— like a bow across strings. Your hand fits into his palm like the bout of a violin and he can't get enough of the harmony you bring to his life. Just your presence alone grounds him in ways he never knew possible.

When he kisses your lips, Jihoon can taste a song so decedent it leaves him full for days. Soft and delicate touches that crescendo into passion personified pluck at the strings of his heart in the late hours. The feeling of his arms around your waist as you sleep provides an indomitable security. Your even breaths fan against his collarbone like a lullaby, easing him to sleep. Then, when he wakes, you're still there, greeting him like a songbird.

You are his muse, his life, and everything more.

Jihoon understands now why so many of history's greatest ballads are written for lovers. Because the human language is a fickle thing. Always changing, never quite perfect, unsatisfactory in the eyes of man. Music lives on for centuries beyond their composers. It is, by all definitions of the word, immortal. There will always be someone to enjoy its tune and pass it down for years to come.

A song is but a time capsule of the memories that brought it to life. And Jihoon is not a man selfish enough to deny future generations of your beauty. He would write a song a day if it meant cementing your memory in history.

If only he could find the words.

"Are you ready?" Seungcheol's deep voice pierces through the thin silence.

"Not at all." Jihoon inhales as deeply as he can in his suit that feels one away thread from being too tight, then exhales slowly. The parchment with his vows crinkles and folds at the bend between his fingers.

The words in his palm are no soliloquy, but his heart bled them with every ounce of love he could muster through shaky hands. And the gold band on his finger is a gentle reminder he has a lifetime to spend writing ballads in your honor. There are only two words he needs to worry about right now.

I do.

[okaerina]

⠀ ⠀ ( 𝒜rticle ) ̨ 𝒞RUSH! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

SIMP! enhypen x CRUSH! reader GENRE! fluff, crack, mutual pining, idiots in love TW! not proof read, lowercase intended A/N! anon rqs WC! 890 NOW PLAYING! . . . xo ( only if you say yes ) by enhypen ──   💭 ࿔

𖠗 HEESEUNG .ᐟ

somwhat awkward but confident. he thinks he's pretty mature in terms of romance but when he is with you his brain short circuits so hard he has to grip on something to not faint. but he's a great listener, he will listen to your rants, anything that's been bothering you. he listens so attentively humming and interacting. writes songs dedicated to you and serenades you by singing them !!! you are literally his muse atp, he notes down every little detail about and absolutely adores them. he's all giggles and blushy with you hehe. he dreams of playing video games with lmao.

𖠗 JAY .ᐟ

pretty mature and a bit shy. i feel like jay would be the most mature one amongst enhypen. he's also a bit shy too but tries to overcome it. he's loaded as hell so do expect expensive gifts and bouquets more often. another great listener. he's also a very great adviser, he's wise and thoughtful. very (+infinity) dependable and reliable. he's always there to help you out, cooks you meals and encourages you to eat more. very polite and understanding your parents will definitely approve of him. plays you a song he wrote for you as a way of confessing. lots of fancy outings and always pays first ^^

𖠗 JAKE .ᐟ

so super sweet and shy. when jake likes someone he tends to get touchy with them but when it's you hell he can't even look up at your face (he swears up and down that he loves you). stutters alot when talking to you and you just can't help but chuckle at his cuteness (he dies pls stop). tries to help you out with everything, even if he doesn’t take the class he still tries to learn a thing or two so he could help you out oh! you'd also start seeing him in your classes. lots of study sessions where he's most of the time gawking at you and always getting caught doing it lmao. rants about physics and layla to you alot! makes a lego bouquet for you.

𖠗 SUNGHOON .ᐟ

very hyper confident and delusion. he's good looking, loaded, has nice personality, fame and fans - everything you could ask for he's got it all so what's stopping you from liking him? he deludes himself into thinking that you'll fall in love with him just like any other girl but you don’t (sike) he goes ''huh wait what but i thought'' cue courting era of park sunghoon. never in his life he imagined he'd have to court someone but you’re not just someone you’re special, you’re his one and only true lovd. gets unexpectedly shy with you, hides his face and giggles. he realizes you’ve officially unlocked a new persona of sunghoon reserved just for you.

𖠗 SUNOO .ᐟ

he's so popular and friendly with everyone that you thought he was being just friendly to you the entire time sheesh. he has to restart his plans and just ends up telling you he has romantic feelings for you. then you'd start seeing the subtle difference between him around you vs around others. you noticed how he would like to listen to you speak when he was hyper yapper. always wants spend alone time with you. "hm im sorry i need to hang out with my girl" plans everything from the date spot to how it end. loves to plan outfits with you. skincare nights! always make sure that you eat well. takes lots of pictures of you without you knowing (not in a creepy way). will clap back at anyone and everyone for you.

𖠗 JUNGWON .ᐟ

pretty chill about it tbh. you'd have no idea he's got something for you yes he's that good at hiding. a fake-scenario maniac, daydreams about you a lot and giggles like a maniac (oof the weird stares). looks your contact name every single day. takes advice from his hyungs and literally has a diary related to you, he writes about you, to you. approaches in the most random way, "you know i have a dog..." very caring, always stands by your side. your biggest defender. once you two start chatting he will send you random videos of him playing in the park when the entire country is asleep.

𖠗 NI-KI .ᐟ

he may put up a bad-boy chill sigma look but is straight up awkward and goofy (?) almost tsundere. literally fumbles at your sight, his legs comically jiggling he has to lean on something to hold himself up. he will try to first ignore these stupid feelings that tarnishes his cool image, making his heart quesy. but gives up when he notices he's fallen badly in love. messes up every single time he tries to woo you. like that one time he tried to flirt with you, the moment you turned towards him, he forgot what he memorized to say. the next few sentences he tried to utter were filled with nothing but stutters and awkward pauses. nevertheless you still found him so endearing. girl trust me if you were ever to say yes he'd probably faint then and there. is so soft and lovey-dovey with you that others had to double take like that's the giant ahh intimidating nishimura riki?!?! huge girlfriend privileges for you :)

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ

[shaisuki]

CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU

YANDERE! MANAGER! ALEXIS NESS X IDOL! CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── idol! reader, panty sniffing, masturbation (m!), implied murder, voyeurism, nonconsensual recording, deranged ness, dubious consent, nicknames (muse, princess), forced affection, threats, coercion, virgin reader, guilt tripping, oral (f! receiving, kidnapping, noncon.

notes. requested by @hillaryary

I was very happy to find your profile and stories :D your story is very good and I really like it!! I have to go to tumblr and re-read your stories every day :DD and can you write a yandere alexis ness x chubby reader, where the reader is a music idol and Ness is her manager?

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ the industry's cold for someone like you, thanks for the entertainment gods you're blessed with your sweet manager, alexis ness or is he?

you are too good to be true.

the neon lights blending with his own magenta eyes following your plush body dancing to the rhythm of the song you recently released. although he can't hear the cheers of the people singing along to your music. he's deeply focused following your every movement. his ears straining the unwanted voices in the background. separating your voice to the crowd and alexis could forever watch and listen to you sing and dance.

if you would just let him take you away from this. you would only exist for him and you won't have to go far to impress these good for nothing who wants you. a product they can buy and throw away.

ness handled numerous artists and he's quite proud to say they were flourishing because of him and it would have continued if it wasn't for their greed. the fame inflating their egos that it bursted until they were no more than nothing but trash. you were humble despite the rapid fame you've gained since starting and ness is captivated by you. how you carried yourself and faced the challenges as an idol.

it's quite difficult since you started. of course, the audience wasn't really into the idea of someone of your stature. round and stout unlike the usual petite idols with the hourglass figures. the fans wanted the thin with the soft features but never the fat that it comes with it and you're nothing like that at all. proving your worth until you get that breakthrough that sealed your deal as the popular rising star in the industry. handled by the finest manager named alexis ness.

alexis is the sweetest and kindest of all the managers (only to you). never did he criticize for your body that was the main concerns of the producers and other concerns that relates to your stardom. he tended all of your needs and made sure you were properly taken care of. alexis just loves you.

and he's the worst. always daydreams about you and think how you've fallen for him. thinking you were just too shy about admitting it and ness likes the thought of it. he likes you too. no. scratch that, he loves you. thinking that your words of praise are your declaration of love for him and how those touches are you seducing him. to fall on his knees and begs for your love which he didn't need to be told twice. he's a delusional lovesick boy. nothing can stop him. not even the forbidden relationships between managers and their talents. alexis would defy it all for the name of his love to you.

the song ended with the cheers coming from the crowd. chanting your name and you ended the concert with thanks and the words of appreciation for supporting you. you're radiant as the sun under the spotlight. waving your hands to the crowd who wants you. threatening to destroy that clean image of yours and ness wouldn't allow such filth to happen to you.

he put a genuine smile while you put your microphone away. his smile was different from the others he shows. this one is only for you.

“alexis.” the call of his name instantly made his heart skip a beat. his lively eyes getting brighter. perking up more than the usual and made his dick hard. his hands itching to get a feel from your soft skin. “it was a another successful concert, thanks to you.” you approached him. grabbing his hand to clasp with yours and ness thinks he could explode in the moment but he kept his composure. after all, he's your manager. your hands is so soft and it perfectly fits in his.

“it is nothing. it is you should take the credit. keep up the good work, sweetheart.” patting your cheek and removing your earpiece. “shall i take you home?” his sight briefly looking at your back where the crowd is still chanting your name in a thunderous manner. you nodded. you were beyond tired and needed a much deserved rest.

after changing out of your outfit, ness escorted you out where his car awaits for you two. of course ness needs to be discreet considering how every corners of the place, a photographer or a simple bystander stands. wanting to get a photograph of you and spread it like a wildfire in the interest. a scandal would erupt if you both where alone and in his car but ness is known as the manager who kept things professional and strictly business as things were. they can't use it against him nor to you as a new headline of fucking tabloid. it's only him and his talent. a good manager who takes good care of his star.

when you got home, you sighed in relief. you needed a bath after that concert and you need to prepare for the next upcoming days for press conferences, meet and greets and guesting for tv shows. no words are said as you instantly hopped in the shower. leaving your manager alone in his own devices in your apartment. it was fine though. you trusted alexis since you started in the entertainment industry and he was nothing but kind to you or is he?

when he hears the water run in the shower. ness knows exactly what he had to do. he follows you in your bathroom. the silhouette of your plush figure lays in front of him and ness was tempted to join you. lick the water running down to your soft body while your fingers comb through his hair. kiss him passionately. tell him how much you love him and he almost did it but for now he's going to relieve himself with your panties. digging it through under your clothes in the hamper and jackpot! he found it.

your cute, frilly panties. you always it wore it when doing public events. your lucky panties, he presumes. it's damp and ness almost salivates at the scent. sniffing the undergarment and fishing his hardened cock in his pants.

ness trembles. the excitement of being caught while sniffing your panties. he think he could cum in the spot but he tortures himself not to cum immediately. his eyes fixated in the shower door. he can see you rubbing your body in an almost sensual manner. his grip on his cock tightens. moving it back and forth. thrusting it in his fist. rubbing it continuously and the moment you turned off the shower, he cums in his fist. the sensation of cumming sending tingles down to his spine. sparks after sparks of endorphins being released in his brain and ness cleans himself before walking away from your bathroom. your panties in his pocket and ness pretends to be resting in your couch.

fresh out of the shower, you told ness that you would be turning for the night and he just gives you a smile. he will leave after you fall asleep making sure his sweet, pretty princess would be safe.

he waited for a good hour. not minding the night being this late. he slowly tiptoes in your bedroom and ness slowly sinks to the soft mattress of your bed. placing your plushies besides you. ones that was given by your fans and that big plum colored teddy bear that is displayed at the foot of your bed. it's round, black eyes is planted with camera that he crafted to keep track of you and you look really adorable even when you sleep. ness can't even think for a memory that you look absolutely a mess. you were really pretty in his eyes. your face devoid of any make-up and he can see the natural state of your face and ness could just worship you if you'll allow him and even if you don't.

you really trust him. you don't even suspect him of doing the nastiest thing he can do. he would kill for you. done it many times so he could protect you.

love me! his thought scream at him. he slowly crawls to you. lurching forward like a predator stalking his prey. his body caging your own. you don't even shift in your sleep. you're gullible. your own manager is above you. watching you through in his eyes filled with adoration with a lovesick face.

love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!

the only words running in his mind while he buries his face in the crook of your neck. let your warmth seeps and touch his very soul while his clothed cock is pressed to your creamy thighs. he moans a little when his cock brushed against your crotch. the thin barrier of your thin pajama bottoms is nothing. he hopes you'll wake up. he hopes you don't.

would you scream? push him away? or pull him closer to you. let his hands wander throughout the expanse of your body while you grind to him. show him that pretty pussy of yours dripping. telling him how much you wanted him inside of you and ness groans.

he should stop before you can find out what your manager had been doing to you. he removes himself from you. “sweet dreams, princess.” he mutters. running his fingers to the roundness of your cheek and kissing your forehead before reluctantly saying goodbye to you. he leaves your apartment silently. making sure it was locked and his phone syncs with the camera he hid in your teddy bear. he looks back one last time before he goes home.

make up? check. your earpiece working? check. do you look cute in this outfit? check. you did a little twirl in your dressing room. posing and practicing the hundred of facial expressions you memorized for this concert of yours. you were ready.

a knock interrupted your little train of thoughts and it revealed your cute manager ness with his ever so cute smile and those kind eyes of his.

“you ready for you big day, my muse?” he asks, checking up on his favorite idol. the cutest of them all. he was rewarded by your beaming smile. you were literally bouncing. after all. this had been set for months and your manager decided that it was time for your grand performance in of the biggest stadiums in the country. ness, a magician manager like him had worked to pull the strings to get his muse, her grandest spotlight.

as much as you deserved it, such acts must be rewarded, right? nothing comes free at all and ness always wanted you. it wouldn't be so bad if he would ask for it. he did everything just to make you shine even as far eliminating threats who wants to strip you out of your fame. those ugly bastards who wants your body for a sliver of connections they had. you're lucky to be in the industry considering you were too big to be an idol they say but ness was having none of it. it's your talent that got you here and him. he was made for your talent and you were made for him.

“thank you, alexis. i really am. without you i would be still in competitions with the others.” you thanked him tearfully. he can see you were sincere at your actions and that made ness heart skip beats before thumping in full force that it's enough for him to be sent into a heart attack but it's far from it. his cute, darling idol. he thought. his eyes raking the sight of your body from head to toe. your so delicious curves and soft features in front of him are made to be touched.

“ah, my darling muse.” ness approaches you. holding your shoulders. as much physical contact between managers and their talents are prohibited, ness was an exception. he never gave you any reason to be wary of and only acted like a friend would do. “don't get teary at me. it's your big day. we wouldn't want your beautiful face to be in a mess, right?” he coos at you affectionately. catching a teardrop in your lash line before it drops in your round cheek.

he's so close to you. your adorable face in front of him and he can smell the scent you naturally emits and he's about to burst. purple eyes looking at your own (e/c) eyes and he's about to be trapped. your lips tremble at the slightest of emotion and he's tempted to kiss you.

his sight going back and forth to your eyes and to your lips. his hold on you tightens and slowly, maybe it was the tension and how badly he wants you, he'd done it.

he presses his lips to yours and ness always wanted it and it's happening now. it's soft and gentle like a first kiss. it was your first kiss and he stole it. ness knows it was your first. he runs down a whole background check on you if he was to be your manager and it was just cherry on top that you were untouched and pure for him. ness had done everything at his power to keep you that way. it was for his own gain to have you.

there was no reaction when he kisses you. it must be shocking. your own manager kissing you out of the blue. it was the least you expected. he was just a manager to you.

you were still processing about it. no doubt and when ness broke the kiss. you were stunned. looking at him wide eyes and he took it as another opportunity to kiss you again. how long he waited for this. your soft lips against his. your soft skin under his fingertips. he let out a low moan. relishing in the sensation of your body pressed against him.

“alexis...” you softly mutter his name under your breath. he was biting your lower lip when you pull away from him and stares at you. pupils blown with lust and cheeks red. he looks like a lovesick school boy. “what?” he doesn't let you go in his grasp. you shake your head. “it's wrong.” he knows it. it's wrong to have a physical relationship nor a romantic relationship to your idol but managers had done it for a long time. it's a reward for their hard work and ness was hurt from how your face contorts into one of disappointment. your once adoring face that was directed to him is now replaced with anxiousness. looking at him in disbelief and is that the look of betrayal?

“it's not wrong when it's only the two of us. don't you love me?” ness voice trembles and it was similar to grade schooler that was being reprimanded of a deed they can't control. you don't know how to make the words you needed to say. you do love alexis. he's the one who helped you build this fame and even it was his job as your manager, you owe all of this to him. despite all of that, you can't risk a scandal between you two. one rumor and it could destroy all the hard work. you simply can't everything on the line.

“i do love you, alexis....” ness perks up from what you've said. you hesitated to utter the next words “you're my manager. my confidant in everything. the person that i trust in this industry but i can't return your feelings. i'm sorry.” your excitement dying down from the revelation of his feelings to you. better let that out than to let his feelings spiral out of control but you were wrong it only fuels his desire to want you more.

clasping his hands and ness thinks he could cry. it was a rejection but he just couldn't accept it. you love him. you've said it but why? were you afraid of crossing a line? idols like you aren't allowed to date but it's fine if it's with him. a secret until you retire and you can love him in the light as in the dark. he couldn't take this rejection. he needed to convince you that it was fine. no one will know.

“we can keep it a secret. just you and me. no one will find out about it. managers had dated their idols without knowing. we can be like that!” ness frantically explains to you.

“for them! alexis, you and i is not the same. i love you but not in a romantic way. platonically, yes. you're the only person i trust here, alexis.” you reason out to him, half-explaining, half-raising your voice at him. trying to reach out. change his mind that you can't love him the way he loves you.

your manager wasn't quick to give up though.

“no! you love me. you're afraid! i swear i'll be good. i'll work harder!” beginning to lose his sense of respect to himself and to you. he's beginning to spout nonsense and you shush him before he breaks down in front of you.

“alexis! stop! stop! you don't need to do anything, okay?” you hold him down by his shoulders. cupping his cheeks and meet his eyes that is already brimming with tears. “you don't need to do anything of that. we can still be... — friends. nothing will change after this. just please, promise me you won't do anything drastic.” you almost practically beg at him and hope he will take this seriously.

“i'll do it but only if you will let me do this.” you weren't able to compose reply before his lips is into yours again. “alexis!” you pushed him but he's back in to you again. “just this once and it will be done.”

you searched if it was real in his eyes and you found no malice in those eyes of purple. still like a gem in the ground and there's a little bit of sparkle in them.

it's only a kiss he asked for but could you trust him? what if someone found out or a hidden camera is recording this whole ordeal. you shake the dark array of thoughts lining in your brain. reaching to a conclusion that you won't regret this.

“you promise?” you asked, a little wary about it.

“i promise.” he smiles and he was about to do the thing you're about to regret. too gullible that he would be satisfied with kissing you.

then the kiss came. lips pressed against yours. gentle it was like him and when you think it was done. you were proven wrong when his hold on you started to get tight. holding the back of your head to further deepen the kiss. swiping your bottom lip with his tongue. you gasped at the sensation. forcing you to open your mouth and ness took the opportunity to shove his tongue to yours.

it was brutal and the sudden intrusion of his tongue in your mouth felt weird. is this what being kissed feels like? you try not to focus but judging from ness, he was adamant of kissing you like this.

the fluttering heat of the sensation of kissing you begins to settle in the pit of his stomach. oblivious to the pain he was beginning to inflict in your skin. all he can focus is the taste of your mouth in his. the strawberry flavored scented lip gloss in your lips coating his taste buds and the softness of body engulfs him. wrapped in the heavenly sensation of being this close to you. ness didn't want this to end.

you body starts to cave in with his ministrations and ness carefully assists you to place your body in your vanity table. your back pressed in the mirror. he breaks the kiss. letting you to catch your breath before he's in yours again. a couple of kisses he left in your lips and then to your cheek and jaw until he's nuzzling in your neck. sucking marks until a hickey blooms from it.

“alexis. you promise it will be done and the concert's starting.” reminding him of his promise. ness who's already hooked to you kept kissing your exposed skin. “there's still thirty minutes left until showtime and you're a little tense.” ness ignores the earlier ordeal. too bad. he won't be satisfied with only a kiss. he needed to taste you. “you won't mind if i help you loosen up a bit. won't you?” alexis suggested. he didn't leave a room for you to respond. standing in front of you. resting his forehead against yours. patting your cheek gently.

“you're particularly tense in this spot, princess.” alexis mused followed by a gasp coming from you when he rubs his finger to your slit. “alexis! no—....” he interrupted you with a kiss. your legs jerking in response along with your upper half. coiling away from him as you move backwards. hitting the mirror and knocking a vase.

his finger repeatedly going back and forth. grazing the surface of your panties until he can feel the dampness of it. “you're still tense.” he murmurs. going back again to kiss you and slotting himself between your legs. his hands creeping up and sliding it under your ass. holding it firmly before grinding his bulge to yours. “ahh~” alexis moans. feeling the warmth of your pussy and the contact of his bulge to yours sending tingles in his spine.

you were helpless against him. you think your body is made of jelly from how his touch leave you to be this weak. “alexis!” you cry out to him. a call for him to stop but your manager didn't take it seriously.

“i told you, princess. i'm helping you to relax. it's a big day for both of us. don't worry it will only take a minute.” what a liar. this is not a way for you to decompress. not with such stakes are in the line.

you think that this industry would be a godsend to you since you're under the care of alexis ness but it's a nightmare. you think of all the idols that had to endure this.

you're wrong. alexis had never touched nor took advantage of the previous idols who was under him. you're lucky. you took his breathe away and was always good for him. it's only the way he can show how much he adores you.

“alexis....” you don't understand why you were suddenly experiencing the feeling of being helpless under him. how his touch disarms you that you're letting him do this. were you truly this dependent to him? you feel him under you. pushing back the tulle of your skirt until it bunches in your waist. still careful not to crinkle the fabric.

his smooth hands glides through the expanse of your thighs. massaging the doughy flesh and letting his fingers sink over the softness of it. “relax for me, princess.” alexis assures you. a brief peck of his lips to yours. not breaking eye contact with you until he started to kneel. leveling with your crotch and he leans in closer.

“princess.” he calls you. peppering the insides of your thighs with kisses. he takes a deep breath. his nose pressed in your slit. inhaling the scent of your cunt he'd been dreaming to get a taste of it. wished he could stay in this forever before he smothered his face in your cunt. “a-alexis!” you inhale sharply at the sudden contact of his tongue to your aching cunt.

your back arches at the sensation of his tongue constantly flicking against the smooth surface of your pussy lips. your fingers finding his hair. unconsciously tugging his hair while your hips grinds in rhythm with his tongue.

“a-ahh...” alexis hears you moan and he couldn't explain the happiness that is bursting inside of him plus the throbbing of his hardened cock. he must contain himself. he thought. it could wait. for now, he must remember the taste of you. he's the reason you're feeling this good and this send alexis to eat you out to his heart's desire.

he greedily laps at your cunt. letting out a noise of contentment while he eagerly catches the slick that your sweet cunt is releasing. he doesn't mind when you're pulling his hair a little roughly. he's glad that you're enjoying this as much as he is. he hears you breath. moan at every move of his tongue. rolling your hips against his face. his fingers digging at your thighs. his idol. his muse. trembling at his very touch.

he knows you're close. from the way you're suppressing the sound of your sinful moans and your thick thighs closing around his head. he needs more. he needs to taste you more. his lips wraps around your clit and that sends a violent jerk of your hips upwards and more slick to drip out of you. ness abandoned your clit. his tongue wiggling inside your dripping hole and sucking the thin, clear liquid out of your cunt. he just can't get enough of this. small vibrations coming from his mouth showing how much he loves the taste of you.

“a-alexis, i—'m close...” you mewl. the tight and the tingly feeling inside you growing and it won't be long before you reach your peak. the man below you hums. worsening the situation you're in. he happily laps your heat.

you taste so divine and he's about to bestow you the most mind-numbing orgasm and so he pours all his experience in your cunt. adding his touch while he rubs soft circles in your thighs and alexis moans when your thighs presses together. encasing his head. he hears you chanting his name like a prayer. asking to let you cum and it's a privilege to make his idol cum.

you close your eyes. the sensation of his tongue flicking and gliding to your folds is too much. you don't know if you'll last this long. this is what it feels to be taken care of. physically. it felt so good. you want more. forgetting that this is taboo between you and ness but...

it was set aside when you tumbled over the edge. the tight, hot coil snapping inside you and your toes curling. body taut until you were boneless against the mirror. sliding in a slow motion. ness laps up the remnants of your post bliss. mouth drenched in your sweet essence that will linger in him for the next days and when you relaxed.

“i think you're ready now.” he innocently smiled to you. helping you fix your dress for today's performance and gently dabbing your face with a tissue to clear the smudges in your make up. “alexis. i hope you'll keep your promise.” you say to him. hearing the crowd in your dressing room and alexis nods. satisfied for now. “as you wish, princess.” then a knock was heard. the stage manager telling you that it's almost time and you were escorted in the back stage. your manager trailing behind you.

what happened between you two is something you regret and not proud of.

alexis was concerned how you were frowning the whole time. his eyes fixated to you and only you. the stage manager begins to count the numbers until it was showtime. your face beaming up in a rapid manner. gripping the microphone before taking a deep breath and it was showtime.

he watched you dance and sing. interact with the fans and blowing them kisses and ness was jealous of it. he knows it's only a ploy to make your fans love you but he wishes it was directed to him. he's a manager. he encouraged you to do it in the first place on how to make your supporters love you and expand your fanbase. the apple of their eye and to him. his darling muse.

dark, muddied thoughts begins to stain his already messed up brain. if only you would look at him the same and thus, he got fed up with this life. hiding and trying to make his creations be pleasing to everyone's eye. if you're going to end up like them, he better cut your wings off.

and that's what he did.

“my muse.” he said with a soft smile. his voice filled with adoration. the nickname stuck to you. always had been. you were his masterpiece. “i never thought i would be this addicted to you.” pale purple eyes staring right at you. never breaking eye contact just to prove his devotion to you. “let me have the pleasure of being your first.” he means it. pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

your mind is alive but your body couldn't move. it was like it was made of of lead. you feel him everywhere. you didn't know you would be in this situation. is this still your sweet manager alexis who can fought tooth and nail just to defend you? who nurtured you and encourages to be yourself despite the rough upbringing of the entertainment industry. did he that all and only he would take that all away from you for him to do worst. the answer was clear to you.

a tear slip out from your eye. you feel your innocence and purity along with your dignity slowly fades when his cock strips you out of it. his breath in your face. his lips singing of praises. his muse. he chants it repeatedly while he moves. his eyes on you all the time. watching the change on your face. you should have run when alexis first showed you kindness and now it's too late. he keeps you in this place where you are only for his eyes to see.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hey, i'm also from brazil and i love the way you write! Taking advantage of the fact that I saw you talking about yandere apollo pjo, could you do some headcanons about what he would be like due to the differences? like, in today's world. Would he look at your phone or something?

❝ ☀️ — lady l: it's a headcanon, in a way, but also an imagine, a combo of both! I ended up geting excited and focusing more on the platonic part and I hope everything it's! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!

❝tw: obsessive and overprotective behavior and fluffy.

❝☀️pairing: yandere pjo!apollo x gender neutral!reader.

❝word count: 742.

Apollo is the god of poetry and will always be writing the most beautiful poems for you. All of his hymns will be dedicated to you and any pop influence he will use as inspiration to worship you. Apollo dedicates each verse to you, each word carefully thought out in the overwhelming love that the god feels, transforming pop influences into hymns of worship.

In the intervals between his divine exploits, Apollo is captured by the passion of modern melodies. Transforming pop influences into passionate songs, his lyres resonate in heavenly places, echoing the immortal feelings he has for his earthly muse.

Apollo as a divine father is smothering and protective. He doesn't give a damn about the rules that govern the gods, not when it comes to his favorite child. He will distribute gifts, presents and will help and support them in everything he can. Apollo will always make it clear that they are his greatest pride.

As you face challenges and monsters, Apollo protects you, interfering in divine destinies when necessary. The sun god becomes a constant presence, guiding and encouraging his favorite child to embrace its heroic nature. Apollo, the divine father, defies heavenly rules in the name of love for his child, doling out divine gifts and guiding them along the path to greatness.

One day, while you were facing a particularly difficult challenge, Apollo decided to intervene in a more direct way. He descended from Olympus, enveloped in golden light, and appeared at your side. His presence was warm and comforting, like the rays of the sun emanating from his divine form.

"My dear child," Apollo said with a beaming smile. "The time has come for me to join you on this journey. Together, we will face the challenges that present themselves, and I will guide you with my divine light."

Apollo watched with beaming pride as his child flourished under divine tutelage. He guided the mortal steps with the light of knowledge, shaping the favorite's destiny as a sculptor carves a masterpiece. Each of his child's deeds was a glorious echo of the pride Apollo felt, reflected in the rays of sunlight that illuminated his celestial face.

Apolo is very connected to modern technology, oddly enough. He would have a cell phone, the best and most expensive, and it would be full of photos of you. His music playlist would have all genres, an eclectic god, after all, he is also the god of music and appreciates all types, honoring his essence as the god of music.

He wouldn't touch your cell phone unless you allowed it or if he had some kind of suspicion. In this case, you can be sure that the god will search your cell phone in search of something. And he will definitely take selfies of himself to leave for you.

During moments of rest, Apollo shared divine stories and ancestral teachings with you. His words were like ethereal songs, dancing in the air and penetrating your heart. Each narrative was filled with wisdom and profound lessons, like the notes of an eternal melody.

On a starry night, after an especially epic victory over a colossal beast, Apollo gathered the gods and goddesses for a divine celebration on Olympus. Heavenly music filled the halls as everyone rejoiced in their achievements and the union between the divine and the mortal.

At the height of the party, Apollo raised his golden lyre and began to sing a song that transcended the limits of Olympus. His melodious voice resonated, telling the saga of his favorite child, full of courage, triumph and divine love. The song inspired tears of joy in the eyes of the gods and goddesses, witnessing the success of his protégé.

At the end of the performance, Apollo looked at you with pride in his eyes. "My child, you are a masterpiece that surpasses any divine song. Your heart is a melody that enchants the gods and transforms Olympus into a more radiant place. May your journey continue to shine like the stars that adorn the night sky."

Since that day, the bond between you and Apollo has only grown stronger. The god's blessings continued to guide you, while the teachings shared under the stars became a beacon of wisdom on his journey. And so, under the protection and love of Apollo, the heroic epic unfolded, marking destiny with the eternal light of the god of music and poetry.

[corrodedhawkins]

Make it Big

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) language, roleplay (Rockstar!Eddie…Eddie is super cocky and kind of an ass but it’s all an act), slight dom!Eddie, oral (m! receiving), crying, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (the tour bus, which is actually the van), praise, multiple orgasms, creampie, a little aftercare.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks, eyes roaming over your figure.

Answering him shyly, your eyes stay focused on the stained carpet of the dressing room you’ve just been lead into by the band’s manager.

“Pretty”, he muses, circling you slowly. “Do you know why I picked you out of the crowd, little one?” He places two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

Warm brown eyes stare back at you, his penetrating gaze making you shiver. You shake your head slightly in reply.

Eddie’s thumb traces over your plush bottom lip. “I saw you, in the front row. Singing along to every song, your eyes on me the whole show.”

His hand falls from your face to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him. “I know when someone wants me”, he whispers into your ear.

“I don’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay if you’re too scared”, he releases you from his hold, backing away. “Just say the word and I can throw you back out with all the other groupies who would kill to be standing where you are right now.”

Eddie walks over to the door, swinging it open. He bows, gesturing towards you, then at the door. “On your way out, please send in another one of my adoring fans.”

“No”, you mumble.

“I’m sorry? Couldn’t hear your, sweetheart. Speak up.” Eddie looks at you expectantly.

“No”, you try again, more confidently this time. “I’m not too scared. I want this.”

He stands up straight, lips turning up into a cocky grin. “Of course you do. Why don’t we take this back to the tour bus?”

Eddie ushers you out the back door of the venue, backing you up against the side of his van parked steps away.

With one hand braced against the van beside your head, he leans in, nosing your hair away from your neck. He places hot, wet kisses against your throat, trailing up to your ear. His free hand falls to your plush ass, squeezing roughly.

Eddie kicks your feet apart, forcing one thigh between your legs, his grip on your ass helping him grind you down onto him.

You gasp at the friction, quickly soaking through your panties under your short skirt. The chuckle that comes from Eddie confirms he can feel just how hot and wet you are against his leg.

“Fuck, I can feel how ready you are for me, pretty girl. You want me so bad, don’t you?”Licking and sucking on your lobe, he blows over the wet skin, making you shiver.

When all he gets is a high, desperate whine in reply, he pulls back from your ear to look at you. His hand falls from the side of the van to cup your cheek, thumb moving soothingly over your cheekbone.

“You doing okay?”, he asks softly.

“Yeah. Just, wasn’t expecting to like the cockiness this much.” You can’t help the blush that blooms on your cheeks.

Eddie laughs, brow quirked up in surprise. “Yeah? I was scared I was laying it on too thick.”

“Nah, the whole asshole rockstar thing is doin’ it for me.” Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

“Noted”, he murmurs against your mouth, tongue darting out to flick against your top lip. “Ready to see the inside of the bus?”

Pushing off of the side of the van, you let yourself be lead around back, hopping in when Eddie holds the doors open for you.

The double doors slam shut behind him, the light from the street lamp above filtering in through the tinted windows just enough for you to see the way his eyes have darkened with want.

He pushes you back against the mattress, where a clean set of sheets and a few pillows have been added specifically for the occasion.

Eddie settles on top of you, grinding his hips into yours as he reclaims your mouth. His hands find your hips, ringed fingers trailing down to your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Were you watching my fingers as I played earlier, princess? Did you imagine how they would feel inside of you?”

You nod, face burying itself into the crook of his neck.

He reaches between you, rucking your skirt up around your hips to give him access to your core. Pushing your panties to the side, his fingers find your slit, gasping as he feels just how wet you are.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked for me, baby. Want my fingers that badly?”

“Yeah”, you breathe against his neck. “Wanna feel them.”

“Say please”, he tuts.

A shaky breath escapes you, “please.”

“Good girl, asking for what you want.” He places a soft kiss to your lips.

An utterly embarrassing moan erupts from your throat, lip bitten between your teeth to stifle it.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re into? You want to hear how good you are for me?”, he asks like he has no idea how much of a praise kink you have.

His fingers delve between your folds, moving up to circle your clit slowly, only teasing before he moves them down to your entrance. Two fingers plunge into you, immediately crooking up to hook against your gspot. His thumb comes up to grind firm, tight circles into your clit.

You breathe Eddie’s name like a prayer against his lips, hips bucking against his hand. He knows exactly how to touch you, an expert at getting you close as quickly as possible.

“That’s right, baby. Say my name.” You can hear the smirk in his tone, clearly enjoy the reaction he’s getting from you.

Hole clenching around his fingers, you grab his arm that’s braced against the mattress holding him up, nails biting into his skin.

“You gonna cum? Gonna soak my fingers? C’mon, let me feel it.”

You’re gone before he even finishes his sentence, your hole spasming before forcing his fingers out as you gush, soaking his thigh and the mattress beneath you.

“Good girl”, he murmurs, his thumb on your clit gently working you through your orgasm until you slump back against the mattress.

His lips find yours, kissing you softly as you come down from your high. He pulls back to nose against your cheek, placing a quick kiss there before moving further down to your chin, and finally your neck.

“I think it’s my turn”, he nuzzles against the sensitive skin of your throat, nose bumping against it. “My cock is gonna be right here”, he places a soft kiss to the center of your throat, feeling the moan that bubbles up at his words. “And you’re gonna take it for me, aren’t you?”

He grabs your hand, hoisting you up to switch your positions, him laying back against the mattress as you kneel between his spread legs. He’s already gotten his cock out, stroking himself lazily.

“C’mon, it’s not going to suck itself.” His lip is bitten between his teeth to stop the smirk that threatens to overtake his face.

Your hand replaces his, wrapping around the base of his erection to keep him still before leaning in, breath ghosting over the tip. Taking one last deep breath, you wrap your lips around him, his length engulfed in the warm, wet heat of your mouth.

Eddie groans, burying his hands in your hair, gathering it into his fist. He holds it at the back of your head, keeping it out of the way so he can watch himself sink deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck”, he moans when you pull back to spit on the head, your hand pumping around his length helping you spread the wetness before taking him back in your mouth.

“C’mon, take me deeper. Wanna feel you choke on it.”

You hum around him, expecting the way his hips buck up at the sensation. Instead of gagging and pulling off, you relax as best you can, sinking further down onto him until he slips into your throat.

“Jesusfuckingchrist”, he gasps out in a rush, fist tightening in your hair. He uses his hold to pull your mouth up and down onto him, fucking up into your throat when your nose presses against the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock. “Good girl, takin’ my cock so deep.”

Pulling you off by your hair, he gives you a few precious seconds to breathe before he’s forcing himself back into your mouth, the wet, dirty sounds of him fucking your throat filling the van.

“Okay, okay”, he pants, wiping away a stray tear that’s rolling down your cheek. “Don’t wanna cum just yet. Need t’fuck you.”

He grabs you by the hips, yanking your panties down before ushering you into his lap. He grabs the base of his cock, running the head up and down your slit, catching against your hole every so often. “You want it?”

“Yes”, you hiss, hips grinding down desperately, trying to get him to sink into you.

He hums in amusement, “then ask nicely.”

A frustrated groan leaves you, his hold tightening on your hips to keep you from moving.

“Can I please have your cock?”, you beg, batting your eyelashes for good measure.

“Yeah? You need me to wreck this pretty little pussy?” He taps the head against your hole, chuckling when he feels you clench around nothing against him.

“Mhmm”, you hum. “Need it so bad Eddie, please.”

“Oh, don’t you worry baby”, Eddie assures. “M’gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to hear one of our songs on the radio without soaking through your panties.”

Finally, he slides into you, hands settling on your hips. He gives you a moment to adjust, knowing no matter how many times you take him it’s still a little bit of a stretch.

“M’fine”, you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your hips, forcing you down further onto him as he ruts up into you.

Knees planted firmly on the mattress beneath you, you use them for leverage as you bounce in Eddie’s lap, his cock dragging deliciously against your gspot.

You cry out, hands tangling in Eddie’s messy curls, pulling him in for a rough, dirty kiss. You tug on his hair until he moans into your mouth, growling as his thrusts pick up speed.

He holds your hips down firmly against him, fucking up into you with such force you can’t stop the wail that rips from your throat. Your clit is in constant contact with his pubic bone, the friction quickly sending you into your second orgasm of the night without warning.

“Oh fuck, babydoll. Are you cumming for me again?”, he asks, almost in awe.

You can’t answer, too lost in pleasure as you spasm around him, whimpering as he continues to hit your gspot dead on.

“You’re so fucking good for me”, he groans, groping your breast through your shirt. “Such a good little slut, taking my cock so well.”

A constant string of moans and whimpers leave your mouth, your orgasm prolonged by the way he’s fucking into you, deep and hard and exactly what you need.

Suddenly, he’s wrapping his arms around you, falling forward until he’s on top, hips never stopping as he continues to rut into you. He tilts your hips up slightly, the change in angle has you mewling beneath him.

Wrapping your legs around him, you pull him in closer, his cock sliding so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Your hips grind down to meet his every thrust, chasing your third orgasm that’s starting to build.

“Are you gonna tell all your little friends about this?”, he growls against the column of your throat, sucking a bruise into your skin. “Gonna run home and tell them all about how you fucked the lead singer of Corroded Coffin in the back of the tour bus?”

Eddie knows your too far gone to speak, not expecting anything more than your frantic nod in reply. Your legs hiked around his hips start to shake, gasping wordlessly as you feel yourself hurtling towards release. “Shit, are you gonna cum again?”, he marvels, reaching between you to thumb at your clit.

He hears it before he feels it, the wet sounds of your pussy gushing around him as his hips snap into you roughly. You scream, head thrown back as you cum for the third time, shaking and crying as your release overtakes you.

“God”, he groans. “Gonna cum. You want it? Wanna feel my cum drip out of you as you leave?” His rhythm falters, a handful of thrusts all it takes for him to cum with your name on his lips.

“You alright?”, he pants, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“Mmph”, you reply sleepily, “think I died.”

Eddie throws his head back in a laugh, kissing your brow as he pulls out of you. Grabbing a stray blanket, he lays at your side, pulling you into his chest as he wraps it around you two.

“Was that okay?, he asks, fingers trailing up and down your back soothingly.

“Really fucking okay”, you snort, burying your face into his neck.

You lay there soaking in Eddie’s warmth, the sound of his heartbeat against your ear.

After a moment, you break the silence. “I think there were actually six drunks in the crowd tonight”, you tease, peering up at him. “M’proud of you.”

“Oh fuck off”, he laughs, no bite behind it at all. “When we actually do make it big, just know we’re going to have so much sex in the tour bus.”

Tagging:

@sweetpeapod @mantorokk-writes @latenightsimping @hellfirebabes @mcplestreet @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpsess @msgexymunson @munsonquinns @bayouteche @thefreakandthehair

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: athena settles debts (pt 4)

WC: 898

synopsis: what if Mav's daughter settled his tab that night in the hard deck

main masterlist

athena-verse masterlist

a/n: this was brought on as i rewatched top gun maverick again, because i love it. and even though i should be finishing the last update of season 1 for codename: nightingale (which is only missing the final fight btw its almost done!!!) i took a little brain rot break. also top gun's been officially added to my masterlist!

You'd heard the jukebox get pulled and then the piano, and you couldn't move. Even when Phoenix tried to convince you to join her by the piano. You watched as Hangman and Coyote stayed with a few others by the pool tables at first, but even they started wandering over eventually.

Hangman, however, moved slow. He lingered by you first, saddling up beside the table. And ehen he realized your gaze was going to stay focused on your beer's label, where your fingers were slowly peeling it off the bottle, he knocked on the table. A look far more gentle than you'd anticipate in such a public place crossed his face as your eyes met his.

" 'Thena?" he calls your callsign with a softness that you know is real, and your lips tug down at the thought of having to lie to him when he's being so open with you.

Before you can say anything else before he can ask more, Penny rings the bell again, and chants of "overboard" can be heard. Saved by the bell, literally.

"Go," you nod. "Penny beckons," you tease softly, forcing your lips to turn up.

He nods, and both Payback and Coyote go with him.

When you follow them with your gaze, you meet your dad's eyes, and when the three younger pilots take up positions, boxing him in, a small quirk of a smirk curls at your lips, because it would be him. He seems to catch your eye just in time and offers up a half smile in response. You watch as Penny gives a nod, her head jerking toward the door. Then the three hoist your dad up in their arms and carry him, before throwing him out, a small amused smile now on your lips, as you make a note to stop by the Kazansky house tomorrow, Ice would love to hear about this.

You're so focused that you miss the first few notes. It's not until a familiar voice fills the space with lyrics that you learned as a baby that there's a sickening twist in your stomach and a renewed need to leave as you push out of your seat, leaving the half empty beer behind.

You move to the bar as Bradley begins to sing and have to force yourself not to look at him. You know what you'd see, aviators perched low on his nose, still slightly crooked from when he'd caught a fastball to the face as a teenager. Curls that are almost golden in the light but had to be matted somewhat by the heat and sweat inside the bar. He had that stupid mustache just like his father's, that was just borderline within regs. You know his dog tags were visible on top of his tank top, with some stupid Hawaiian shirt hanging open. You know what you'd see, so you do your beat to avoid looking.

If you had caved, what you would've also seen is how he searched for you while he sang. A slow scan of the bar, for the girl he learned the lyrics beside, propped on an old piano as a toddler as your father's and his mother sang along, holding little you in her arms. In the mass of people surrounding the piano though, he's having a hard time finding you, why did he pick this song?

"Hey, Penny," you call her name, and her head snaps to you, from where she'd been watching your dad get tossed out.

Your lips quirk on end a bit. Years have gone by, and her relationship with your father, volatile as it can be, still has been the most steadfast of your life. She was your mom in all the ways that mattered.

"I didn't realize they called you back too," she says, talking a bit loud over the music.

"Best of the Best, Miss Penny," you muse, though there's a hollowness in your chest as you say it, she seems to catch it.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" she asks, grabbing a glass and you shake your head.

"No, I, uh… I'll settle for the old man," you tell her, head tilting as you slide your card across the bar.

"No, he'd—"

You cut her off, though, before she can argue. "No, let me. I, uh, I was heading out anyways. You know him, he'd hate to have an open tab," you admit, throwing in a joke to add some levity.

"Sweetheart-" she tries again, and you know she can read you. Despite all the years and gaps in your relationship with her. This was the woman who took you to buy pads for the first time, you knew that she knew you.

"Please, Pen, I… I can't be here, not with this. It's so much worse for him, too. Let me settle it," you admit to her rawly, and her gaze moves to where there's a live performance.

"History's a fickle thing, isn't it?" she offers instead, taking your card. "The ones we truly care about, they always seem to come back in the end, though."

"You'd know better than me, Pen," you shoot back, your tones got a bit defensive but she doesn't even flinch.

She hands you your card with a bittersweet smile, "I guess I would," she nods.

You let out a sigh, and look back at her, "Tell Amelia I'm back?" you ask, and she nods. "At the end of this, whatever it is, tell her I'll take her for ice cream?" you tag on, signing the receipt.

"I will, she'll hold you to it though (Y/n)," Penny confirms.

"I'd expect nothing less as a woman of the Navy," you muse, tucking your card away and turning from the bar.

Rooster's still singing, his voice as pretty as ever. And you can't help your self. You cave.

sue me, you think as you look over at him just once as you pause by the door.

"Well, kiss me baby! Ooh! That feel's good!" he sings, and you smile to yourself despite the ache, shaking your head as you push the doors and walk out. He had a smile on his face, and maybe, maybe you could learn to be okay.

Maybe.

(Probably not.)

You're unlocking your truck when you hear your name. "Athena!" You pause and turn, surprised to see both Phoenix and Hangman; after all, they always seem to be at ends.

"Where are you going?" Phoenix is the one to ask, her cheeks are flushed and her chests heaving a bit from how she'd all but been screaming the lyrics from beside Rooster.

"Home, gotta get some beauty rest before tomorrow," you tell them. "Make sure I'm ready to show you all up," you cover.

"Are you sure?" Phoenix asks, hesitating by the door.

"Yeah, I'll see you bright and early," you reassure her.

She seems to take your word as she nods once at you before heading back into the bar. Hangman, on the other hand, has stayed outside.

"Bravado was never your strong suit, 'Thena, it's mine," he drawls, and though the words are cocky, you understand the question hidden there.

"Go inside, Jake. I'll see you tomorrow," you say softly before getting in your truck. "I gotta keep both my feet on the ground," you add, willing him to understand, before shutting the door.

You notice he stays, watching as you pull out. It's only once you pull out on the road that he turns to go back in.

He be-lines straight to Coyote, missing the look that Rooster sends him as struts back in. The one that lingers on the door, waiting for you to walk back in as well, not that you do.

...

a/n: come talk with me about this athena idea if you want, it's been a while since i've posted anything not DC, so it was kind of fun. I have a longer non-related top gun fic in my drafts too, but that'll come after cnng probably

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Struggling Yandere Musician finding His Muse

He’s a musician, through and through, taking inspiration from everything. His past life experiences, past lovers, art, other music, nature, you name it. And he’s a good musician too, maybe not the best at piano but certainly a god on the acoustic guitar.

For some reason, he’s been having trouble making music as of late. Nothing comes to mind and he feels screaming into the void every time he picks up a pencil and paper. No lyrics come about, no melodies, nothing.

He falls into frustration and self loathing. Why can’t he come up with anything? Why won’t the notes come to him anymore?

It all changes when he meets you.

You attend one of your local cafe’s open mic nights where you hear him perform for the first time. He’s playing a  usual, perhaps even lackluster routine, and as much as he wants to enjoy it, he can’t. He finishes without a flourish, and is welcomed by claps from listeners. 

Being as forward as you are, you cheer the loudest, which catches his eye. He’s surprised by your enthusiasm, it’s much welcomed after going through a rut of self doubt and no creativity. The two of you shake hands after his performance and he gives you an autograph, as thanks for the pick-me-up. 

A little routine builds between the two of you. He performs, you listen. After every open mic night, the two of you chat with drink in hand, savoring one another’s company. 

It’s safe to say that you’ve been hooked ever since. You listen to his music on your favorite streaming service, and attend every open mic night you can now. 

What you don’t realize is he’s been hooked too. On you, that is. 

You’ve become his muse without you even realizing it. Have you noticed his songs have become sappier? More romantic? That’s all because of you. 

He can finally play with a refreshing state of mind. The thought of you has him wanting to sing his heart out, play for hours on end just to see your smile. 

When you happen to bring a male friend along to the next open mic night, he feels crushed. How could you do this to him? Didn’t you realize you two had something special? What was he supposed to do? How could he change your mind?

His performance is angry, passionate. It doesn’t ruin his music, rather it fuels his creativity and he probably would consider this the best performance he’s ever given. 

In his head, he thinks he’s losing you, his only source of inspiration and light in his bleak, creative-less world. He has to do something.

When it’s over, he catches you at an opportune time, your friend having gone to the bathroom. 

He asks that the two of you talk outside, and naively you say yes. 

Before you know it, your body is pressed flush against him and a wall, in the back of the cafe. 

“You’re not going anywhere, my muse.”

[bloody-peach]

Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

~~~♡♡♡~~~

You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

[chuunai]

Hi there! I hope you're having a good day 💗💗. If possible, could you please do how the Bsd men would react to having a popular singer s/o? They could be like Robin from Hsr. If you don't know her, that's fine!

I believe Chuuya would buy your albums as soon as they're released and get VIP seats every single time. He would make sure to attend your concerts, no matter what.

Dazai would be like this:

chuuya ! buys VIP tickets the moment they come out. he doesn’t care you said he can get a free seat, the money goes to support you and your career. when the flow of your voice overtakes him, he’s awestruck by everything. the energetic dances, the sheen and shine of your costume and just you.

chuuya ! forces the mafia’s cafeteria to forever keep on loop your music during lunch hours. every single member of can recite both the oath to the organization and every song you’ve ever released. for every day of the week, it’s one of your albums or collaborations with other critically acclaimed musicians.

chuuya ! reminds you to take care of yourself. his girl can’t sing with a sleep-riddled voice, nor can she possibly dance with such sore feet, can she? no, you can’t, and so he smothers his care onto you. making healthy and delicious meals that your nutritionist approves of, running a hot bath filled with strawberry scented bubbles and a plate of fruit nearby. and of course, making honey laden tea for your throat to better aid your vocal cords.

chuuya ! has at least four of his most experienced and talented men guarding you when you’re out in public openly. stalkers and other obsessive fans are a common occurrence in your life, and he always has nightmares about someone kidnapping you or god forbid, killing you. an idol has to be protected, and he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make sure you’re safe.

chuuya ! helps you make album covers and song lyrics. he’s seen so much in his life, and pouring out his story into a seamless chorus of melodies resonated to him. your album covers are always quite elaborate too—whatever you need, he can get it within a day. all he wants to see is your career flourish and for your bright smile to encourage the ones who are stuck in a limbo, just like how he was before you pulled him out from the abyss.

dazai ! runs your biggest fan account. countless glamorized edits and paragraphs that praise you as the ‘best singer in the world’. sometimes if you allow it, he uploads short videos recording your shared karaoke nights. your devotees can easily tell the different between your and his voices—one perfect and akin to orpheus, and the other screeching about suicide.

dazai ! infamously also doxes your haters on a separate and well hidden account. sadly, he’s one of the main contributors to why your fanbase has a reputation for being vicious and overly aggressive towards people who don’t like you. he thinks they deserve it though. you go through so much darkness, and negative comments don’t need to make you cry even more.

dazai ! keeps a shrine dedicated to you in the corner of the living room. merch, posters, vinyls and more are neatly arranged on shelves and small tables. not even a single speck of dust taints the sacred space. his wallet cries at how thin and malnourished it is, begging for even an ounce of yen, but his heart is full with pure adoration for you.

dazai ! sends akutagawa to your concerts when kunikida doesn’t let him go due to dozens of missing work assignments and orders. if he can’t go in person, he’ll watch from facetime and babble about you into the phone while akutagawa gets the perfect angle and view using rashomon. and when you shout out his name as your muse at the end of the performance, he melts into a pile of mushy lovesick goo.

dazai ! thinks his biggest achievement is being your muse. the thought that he’s the inspiration for some of your biggest songs and lyrics makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be. he’s no demon prodigy, no suicidal maniac or womanizer. he’s just a heavenly muse destined to help steer you on the right track with his heart in your hands.

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@twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @starrs20, @little-miss-chaoss, @secretlyagoblin, @broken-spirit101, @briarbabyxo