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studioghibelli · 5 months

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the end of the world- a joel miller x reader

summary: you had a strict relationship with joel that stuck to the rules. fuck, leave, repeat. it was only a matter of time until feelings were dragged into the mix. when joel leaves at the first sign of love, you're left wondering what you had done wrong. (rated explicit, 18+, mdni)

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, implied fwb relationship, heavy handed on the angst, a whole lot of pining, a lot of flashbacks, and smut. (unprotected piv sex, fingering, clit rubbing, masturbation?, dirty talk, pet names, allusions to slapping/rougher sex, brief biting, a tiny bit of daddy kink.) ended with a bit of fluff

note: i think this is my favorite thing i have ever written. i guess i was in some sort of mood or sumfin. also i absolutely hate spell checking so sorry for any errors. enjoy!!

Joel used to be rough.

He used to imprint his name upon your skin through heavy handed grips and crescent shaped nail marks, left deep into the supple skin of your thighs. Like hieroglyphs on a wall of sandstone, he made sure the world would see what beauty he had left etched into your skin, like a canvas that only he had the privilege of painting.

He used to take you by the throat and kiss you with biblical fervor. He would kiss you so hard the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue for the days following, reminding you who you belonged to, if only for a few hours.

He used to sink his incisors into your neck, suckling at your skin like a vampire in search of an artery. He would leave deep patches of purple beneath your ear, the mark of a man who knew just what you wanted, the mark of a man who was more primal, more animalistic, than he was human.

Then, something changed.

Soft was he, on one fateful night, where his rough palms dragged across the side of your body, gentle waves of pleasure heaving, heaving, heaving, washing over you until you were a shell drowning in an ocean tide, consumed only by thoughts of him.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

A mantra, a promise, a prayer.

Soft was he, his lips molding to yours like cement stuck in the cracks of sidewalks, unwavering and unbreaking, filling you up to the hilt.

Soft was he, as he slipped his cock deep into your pussy, deep and gentle, hitting against every inch, every spot, that made your legs quiver just for him.

Soft was he, as he cradled your face in his rough hands, eyes boring in to your own, the curved bridge of his nose pressing into your rounded cheek, coaxing you, asking you, begging you, to cum for him.

Only ever him.

His hand's had done irreversible damage, taken many lives, and he pushed back the guilt for those crimes long ago, but Joel figured that perhaps holding your face in his hands was worth all the blood, the sweat, the grime and decay. Perhaps touching the skin of an angel was enough to bathe him clean from his past sins, enough to purify the monster which lurked within.

And then one day, he swore you off.

"Can't be around you anymore." He snarled, hand dragging down his face, heavy and hot with the burning poker of shame.

"Says who?" Your voice was cracking, the angry prick of tears stabbing at your eyes, like daggers dripping with bitter venom.

"Me. This ain't.... right. We should never have done this."

"Why isn't it right?" You were begging, trying your hardest to coax put a semblance of an answer from him.

"You're too young for this. For-for me. I ain't good for you."

"Where is this coming from? Just two nights ago you were making love-"

"That's the problem." Joel hissed. "Makin' love." He scoffed spitefully, shaking his head firmly. "It's the end of the fuckin' world and I'm worried about makin' a woman cum, makin' your eyes roll. I should be out fightin', I should be out makin' rounds and doin' my work. Ain't thought of anything like that since I've been with you. I have duties. Responsibilities. I'm too old to be sleeping around like some teenager."

You hated yourself for allowing a tear to slip, hated yourself for showing weakness in his presence. "What about your duty to me?" You cried out, hands tangling into tight fists. You felt your veins pumping with venomous resentment, wondering how you could have been so stupid to allow him respite behind the walls of your soul, sanctuary from the world around the two of you.

"I don't have no duty to you. You're not my wife, not my girl. You're just somebody I was fuckin'."

That was two months ago. Two long, grueling months.

This winter in Jackson was particularly brutal. Perhaps nature had been in tune with your heart, rocking and shaking and screaming in unison with your thoughts, angry and vengeful. Like Poseidon wreaking havoc on the ocean, like Zeus bringing hailstorms of lightning, like Zephyrus playing his hand in an assailing wind; you felt your rage through the soil, the packed snow, the shaking pine needles.

Everyday you would trek to your shop, sit behind the counter, and patiently wait for someone to stop by, wait for someone to ask how your day was (which you would inevitably lie about, tell them how good you were), and wait for someone to barter or trade with you.

A dozen chicken eggs for a woven blanket, a few sprigs of rosemary for some pencils, a handful of sheep's wool for some freshly pressed paper.

It was the same every day.

Rise, work, sit, cry, sleep, repeat.

For the past two months you had lurked around the corners of Jackson with a heavy gray cloud hanging over your head, and each day for the past two months you despised yourself for being so caught up with Joel fucking Miller, for being so upset he left you.

You lived in the smallest house in Jackson. There was no reason for you to take up a big one, no reason for you to have two stories, no reason for you to have a big open kitchen or spacious living room. What was the point? No husband, no children, no nothing.

You had tried to make it yours, and you had tried to make it happier since that horrible, awful, nasty thing happened between you and Joel.

You had bought a thick and oversized crocheted blanket the color of sand with a harvest worth of kale, thrown it over a soft and lived-in suede couch to curl up under. You had bartered a basketful of gourds for two knitted pillows, a brown dachshund stitched into one, and a ginger cat stitched into the other. You had picked up a backpack full of books on a run into the nearest town, settling on classics that you used to read as a young girl, in hopes you could feel that golden peace so often felt during childhood, when the only pressing matters on your mind were untied shoelaces and what mom was cooking for dinner.

A life long ago. A life you could barely remember. You were a small child when the world went to shit, barely starting school, with gaps between your teeth and messy, unruly hair. Still growing out of your sneakers, still biting your nails, still picking up worms from the rich soil with amazement and wonder bubbling in your eyes.

When everything happened, when the buildings were bombed and fields burnt, you were forced to grow up. Forced to toughen up, to be someone you never planned on being at such a young age. You ditched the sparkly backpacks and trips to the library for switch blades and look out towers, for uneasy silence and stale dinners.

Then you met Joel, many years after it first began, and everything seemed a little bit better. It started fast and rough, as though you both thought the world would implode the following morning. And then, when the realization that this was life, that nobody was going anywhere, things grew gentler, softer, more meaningful.

Joel's kisses grew deeper, his touches dragged out for longer, his mouth imprinted upon your soft and lithe skin like droplets of dew on blades of morning grass, gentle and ethereal. His words became breathless, sweet, full of desire and thick with honeyed praise.

"Look at you, such a pretty little thing. Shakin' like this, all for me. Who's makin' you feel like this, sweet girl?" Joel's middle finger was buried to the knuckle in your tight pussy, thumb gently tapping at your clit. A string of saliva strung from your nipple to his lips, where his plush mouth had been covering your hardening bud in gentle bites, sucking like a man on a mission.

"You." Your voice came out as a mewl, quiet and shaking. "You, daddy."

Joel grunted a primordial, brutish grunt that rumbled through the sturdiness of his chest, adding a second finger as his head ducked down to your neck, where his kissing resumed upon the blades of your collarbone. "Good fuckin' girl. Good girl. So fuckin' good, a god damn dream. You know that?"

The wall in front of you was covered in framed images you had found on your travels around Jackson. Some original art you scored in the back of a desolate thrift store, some vintage movie posters you found huddled in the dusty corners of a theatre, some polaroid photos you had taken with old friends.

You blinked the memories of him away.

With each day, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best. With each day, you tried to make yourself understand where he was coming from, why he did the things he did.

"You're just somebody I was fuckin'." You remembered his words like sandpaper grinding against the track of your throat, burning their fiery syllables into your tongue. How true his statement actually was, you weren't so sure.

Joel's forehead was pressed to yours, eyes fluttering open and shut with each deep thrust, hands entwined into your own. Your palms were pressed rigid and unyielding into his, Joel's thick fingers wrapping and molding into your smaller ones, chest rubbing against yours with each masterful movement of his hips.

His hot breath, soaked with the sweet smell of whiskey, fanned across your face, coating you with the ache he felt for you, the love he knew he had growing deep inside for you. Each breath he took was a promise. He was never going to leave you. How could he?

"Joel." You chanted, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes full of stars.

"What do you want from me, darlin'? Say the word and its yours." Joel's voice was breathless and throaty, coating you in the sweet nectar of his affection, seeping deep into your pores until it filled your soul with yearning,

His cock, thick and veined, was slowly pumping as deep is it possibly could within your walls. You fluttered and ached and wept against him, bodies meshing into one, tight and close yet flowing and gentle, like the Bernini sculptures you saw in an art encyclopedia, a long time ago in Boston. Joel filled you to the brim with his length. You felt full of him, wrapped and wanting and wanton. For his eyes only. Only ever him, always.

"Right there." You begged, nails dragging down the length of his wide, sturdy, strong back, marking him with the love caked beneath your fingernails. That unspoken love that weighed heavy on your shoulders, like a wool blanket in the dead of winter.

When Joel's eyes met yours, hitting against the spot you begged him to touch, he had that gaze glossed over his irises, that heavy, awfully gentle look threaded within the chocolate umber of his orbs, the stare that only a man in love ever carried with him.

The memory stuck to your mind like glue on a school project, drying there with no hopes of ever coming loose.

That night, with Joel so heavy on your mind, you treaded heavily to your record player, sifting through the record's you had collected over the years.

"That'll do." You mumbled with dejected finality, putting the vinyl on the player as you lowered the needle.

Why does the sun keep on shining?

Why does the sea rush to shore?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

Cause you don't love me, anymore?

As you listened to the sweet voice of Julie London, you looked around your kitchen, the pile of dishes only stacking up, higher and higher. With your hands on your hips you walked over, forcing yourself to do something with your night. You couldn't sit and mope, you had already spent too long doing that anyways.

You let the hot water fall upon the backs of your dainty hands, watching with glass eyes as it fell and dribbled off your fingers, the soapy suds filling the porcelain bowls. You cupped them in your hands, breathing in the citrusy scent, closing your eyes.

Think. You begged yourself. About anything else but him. Think.

Why do the birds go on singing?

Why do the stars glow above?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

it ended when I lost your love.

You pricked the tip of your finger with the sharp point of the butcher knife, gently twisting it soft enough to only make the hint of an imprint, thinking to yourself. You had lived your entire life fighting, fleeing, hiding, escaping, yet it only ever felt like the end of the world once you lost him.

"Damn you Julie London!" You shouted, voice mellow dramatic and emotive, face planting into your arm which rested on the wooden counter.

"What'd Julie London ever do to you?"

The voice, raw and rough, startled you, awakening you from your trance. Before you could catch it, a puppy like yelp escaped your mouth, sharp and nasty against the ears.

You knew who that voice belonged to. The voice that lulled you to sleep, the voice that whispered sweet nothings as you lay naked and bare on linen sheets, the voice that called you good girl and sweet angel and pretty princess whilst crammed deep into your cunt.

Joel.

Turning so hard you nearly snapped your own neck, you saw him standing in the doorway of your home, tall and brooding, filling the heavy air with the familiar scent of pine needles and bergamot. He held a basket in his arms. A basket he had bought from your shop, many moons ago.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Your voice was nastier than you meant it to be, but you couldn’t help the emotion rising within the confines of your chest, beating at your ribcage like a wild animal locked in a zoo.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. Took the liberty to walk on in and check on you.” He shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and slowly shut the door behind him.

“To check on me?” You scoffed bitterly, turning your back to him again as you resumed your cleaning. You heard the vinyl come to a stop, the air silent and palpable, moulding to your rage. You took in a deep breath, looking down at the sponge you were grasping ahold of a little too tight. “Two months go by, and suddenly today- of all days- you decide to take the liberty to come and…. check on me?”

Joel’s sigh, burdened with what felt like guilt, swirled through your ears. “Yes.” Was all he said, simple and plain.

Oh, you had a lot more to say than one meager word.

You were too nervous to meet his gaze, too worried your tears would come flooding, soaking through your skin and deteriorating until you were nothing more than a puddle of nothing on the wooden floorboards.

“I….” You struggled for a long moment, tongue twisted and stuck in your own throat. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”

You heard the sound of dense boots against the ground, felt the weight of the air behind you shift. He was close. His scent was coated around the inside of your nostrils, fogging your mind with past memories you swore you’d never ponder on again.

“I know what you want to say.” Joel’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper in the wind. “That you hate me. That you never want to see me again. That you hope I’m ripped limb from limb by clickers. Gunned down by raiders.”

Tears welled within your eyes. You didn’t speak for a long beat, sniffling as quietly as you could possibly muster. “After everything, you know I-…. even after you broke me. I-I don’t wish for that. Never even thought of that.” You admitted your terrible secret with a shaking voice, hand tightening so deeply around the sponge, your middle finger sunk straight through the material.

Joel’s fingers gently traced down the small of your back. An offer. You heard a gentle thump as he set the basket down, followed by his other hand pressing flat into your side.

“I’m scared.” His voice was full of emotion you had never once heard from him. “That’s why I left.”

“What?”

“I’ve lost everyone, ‘cept Ellie. Tess, Bill, Frank, Sarah.” His voice cracked, trailing off. “I couldn’t lose you, too. I can’t watch you…. can’t watch you fall victim to this world.”

You shook your head, dropping the sponge against the metal sink, tilting your head to look out the window which stood in front of you. The night sky was sparkling with millions of stars before you, snow flaking down from the heavens, coating the glass window pane with a copious layer of delicate snowflakes, each so different and unique. It was beautiful.

Joel’s left arm slowly wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, wanted to scream and banish him from your home, wanted to promise if you ever saw him again you’d kill him on the spot. But you couldn’t. Not when he was so vulnerable, so warm, so willing.

You shifted against him, leaning back until your bodies were close together. His hand rested taut against your belly, his other arm soon finding solace beneath your shirt, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry.” He finally broke the dizzying silence, chin nuzzling into the blade of your shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to do. I- I still don’t know what to do.”

You blinked away new forming tears, taking in a deep breath. “You could start by warming me up.” You were so meek, you were unsure if he heard your words.

Joel’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing gently into the skin of your tummy, fingers massaging into the supple skin of your waist, your love handles, drawing circles into the line of skin right above the hem of your pants. Your back fell deeper into his chest as he touched you, felt you, as if he had never known your body before.

You could stand there and argue with him, cry and rage and scream at the universe, or you could let him apologize the best way he knew, let him make it all up to you.

“After this,” you managed to choke out, “am I still going to be somebody you just fuck?”

He wasted no time shaking his head. “You never were. You were, are, the light of my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His breath was hot against your neck, his lips pressing kisses, scattered like constellations, into your skin.

“You weren’t thinking.” You moaned a breathless laugh, head tilting to allow him access.

“No, I wasn’t.” Joel’s fingers slipped into your pants, palm cupping your pussy, hot and wet with the promise of his touches. “Damn baby, this horny already?”

“Haven’t been touched in two months. Sure you understand.”

He chuckled a deep, endearing chuckle, nudging his nose into your cheek. “Think I should do somethin’ about this?”

You nodded quickly.

“Words, pretty baby. Use your words.”

“Yes. Please, do… do something about it.”

“That’s my good girl. I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

You felt butterflies brewing within your belly as his middle finger traced the middle of your green cotton underwear, rubbing where you swollen clit gently poked against. He knew you like the back of his hand, like a map he had spent years memorizing. Giving you pleasure, knowing where and how to make you cum, had become second nature for Joel.

“Don’t be ‘fraid to lean against me. Let daddy take care of you.”You groaned softly at his words, falling back into his body. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up, bicep thick and muscled against you. “Push those down for me.”

You wiggled out of your pants and underwear, bottom half open and exposed for him. His fingers dragged across your mound, brushing against the outside of your pussy that cried out for his touch.

Joel slipped his index finger between your outer lips, finding your clit, slowly drawing circles around your aching bud. You sighed out, once again meshing in to his chest as he touched you, feeling the silkiness of your pink, throbbing cunt.

“I missed this pussy. So wet for me, so needy. You like it when I touch you? Like it when I make you feel good?” His words were hot in your ear, melting into your senses like dripping candle wax.

“Oh, I love it. I love it so much. I love you so much.” You were too caught up in pleasure to understand the weight of what you just said, head rolling against his shoulder as he teased your pussy.

Joel let out a quiet moan at what you just admitted, his hold on you tightening. He was never going to let you go. He sunk his middle finger into your tight opening, slowly hooking it against you G-spot, thrusting it up and down the way he knew made you cry for him.

Your knees were shaking, yet you had no fear of falling. As foolish as it may have been, you had complete trust in Joel Miller. You knew he wouldn’t let you drop. Your walls fluttered around his finger, clit begging to be touched once more. You lowered your hand, gently flicking at your swelling button, moaning out as he added his ring finger to your cunt.

“That’s it baby. Rub that pretty pussy. Cum on my fingers.” Joel whispered m, gently biting down on your ear lobe.

You felt your thighs quivering, belly tightening as your orgasm drew closer. Joel watched you with hawk like vision, relishing in the way your fingers traced and danced across your clit. Before you had the chance to announce your climax, you found yourself cumming on his digits, coating them in you sweet, slick arousal, screaming his name as thought it was the only word you ever had the chance to memorize.

When you came down from your high, Joel slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to your soft lips. “Suck.” He commanded gently. You did, wrapping your mouth around them as you gingerly took them in, all the way to the hilt, sucking them clean and dry, free from any of your cum. “That’s my good girl, my pretty darlin’.”

You shivered against him, your head falling back. Joel gently tapped the counter. “Jump up there.” He whispered.

You did as you were told, grabbing the collar of his flannel, pulling him closer.

“Kiss me, Joel Miller.”

And kiss you he did.

His lips found yours with the passion of ten thousand soldiers, sickly sweet and supple against your mouth. Joel was consuming you with this kiss, torridly leaving his mark into the soft ridges of your pouted lips, blanketing you with the desire he had for you that he so often tried to push down. Your fingers found his graying hair, legs wrapping around his waist until the bulge breaking at his jeans was pressed right into your bare pussy.

You grinded against him, clit still sensitive and aching from the power of your last orgasm. Still, you dropped your hands to his zipper, tugging them down swiftly.

“Want you to fuck me.” You whispered against his mouth, tongue sliding across his. “Want you to cum inside me. Make me yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” Joel muttered, hand slipping down to remove his boxers. “I was just bein’ an idiot.”

“Then make it up to me.”

The tip of his cock found the slick lips of your pussy, and he slowly pushed himself in through on graceful movement, filling you to the top until your clit was pressed against his stomach. Joel felt your pussy clench against him, and he groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. He sat there for a moment, relishing in the warmth being inside of you provided, arms wrapped around you like a belt, pressing you hard into his chest.

You gently placed your hands on the back of his head, pulling away to look at him. Tracing over his features, you took every inch of him in. That Aquiline nose you had grown to love so much, the patchy beard littered with charming speckles of silver, that stray curl in the middle of his forehead that never stayed put. Joel Miller was beautiful. He was an enigma of a man. Stoic, masculine, tender, intuitive, full of emotions and worlds unknown to everyone. Everyone but you. He was a crazy, deep, beautiful paradox of a human, and he was all for you.

Joel slowly pushed out from you, before pumping himself back in. He did this a few more times, his eyes never straying from your own. His fingers slipped to your clit, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against it.

“Think you can cum on my cock?”

You nodded.

A smile lifted the right corner of his mouth. “Tha’s what I like to hear.” He leaned down, kissing you again as he began fucking you, deep and slow, each move methodical and well planned, as if he knew just what he wanted to do to your body.

Your hands fell to his broad shoulders. His broad shoulders. That alone could have made you cum. The tanned slope of his beautiful, beautiful shoulders, collarbones thick and jutted out just right, followed by patchy chest hair, down to his soft belly that pressed into yours so perfectly. He was beautiful. You traced your fingers down the trail of his biceps, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, straight to his wrists, lacing with his long, skilled, well worked fingers, palm rough and calloused, tough as leather against the softness of your sweet, smooth hands.

You drunk his figure in like a lovesick fool. Oh, you were, weren't you? So full of love and affection for this brute of a man, well aware he struggled with his emotions. You watched the crows feet by his eyes crinkle as he clamped his eyes shut, watched the line of his neck pulse as he threw his neck back in pleasure.

He was a Baroque portrait of lust standing before you, dark and brooding, thrusting into your cunt as if it were the sweetest thing in the world for him. He growled into the air with each pump of his hips, nails digging into your skin as he held you close, never to let go.

"Joel." You whispered softly, burying your face in his chest as your second orgasm fast approached. You weren't sure why you said his name, not sure what you wanted exactly, but Joel knew. He always knew. He just cradled the back of your head with his right hand, his other gripping ahold of your waist, pounding faster, deeper, harder, hungrier. You were all he wanted, all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

Joel bit down onto your shoulder softly as he twitched inside you, and you knew his orgasm was soon to come. He kept the same pace on your clit until you were putty in his hands, legs tightening as pleasure washed over you. You both came in harmony, moans mixing and melding into the air which surrounded you. His cock painted your walls with thick, hot ropes of white, and your tightening walls milked every last lick of it out as your came hard, head dizzy with thoughts of him.

He whispered your name softly as he slowed to a stop, pillowing you against his body. "God, I missed you."

You nodded in agreement, sticky skin pressed together like two puzzle pieces. "I missed you." You pulled away, holding on to him for support as you slowly stepped off the counter. You gently pressed your palm into his chest, feeling his cum dribbling down your thigh. You smiled softly at the feeling before glancing up at him. "More than you know."

Joel gently ran his palm down your back as you slipped your underwear on, quickly following suit.

"What's in the basket?" You asked, pointing to the item he left alone on the living room rug.

"Oh. It was s'posed to be a peace offerin'. Makin' up with you was easier than I thought." Joel joked, and you gently slapped his shoulder.

"Whatever." You giggled, walking over to the present.

Inside were some paintings Ellie had made you that Joel never had the courage to send before, some sprigs of dried herbs they were growing in their back yard, some handmade goats soap from a lady down the street, and a long, narrow velvet box. You picked it up slowly, turning to look at him.

"Now if you don't like that I might as well go out and die in the woods. Took me fuckin' weeks to find." Joel admitted, rubbing his neck nervously. "I remember you sayin' you wanted one of them."

You slowly opened it, met with a shimmering string of pearls. A necklace. A necklace you had spent your whole life yearning for. Your lips parted with surprise. "I-I've never seen one in person. Only in those old magazines they had back at QZ."

Joel walked towards you, nodding a bit. "Spent a whole weekend with Tommy, all the way in Cheyenne. Almost got me killed." He chuckled, hands falling to your hips.

"Oh, Joel. It's beautiful. It's.... I've never seen something like this before." You whispered earnestly, gently sweeping your hair up. "Put it on me?"

He smiled a soft, rare smile, gingerly clipping it around your neck. He took a step back, admiring you, soaking you in, memorizing the way it looked on you. "Yeah, that was worth the trouble."

You smiled happily, falling into his arms. He held you tightly to his chest, fingers sweeping through your locks of hair. "By the way..." Joel murmured into your head, pulling away slowly as his fingers found your chin. Your eyes met in a searing gaze, full of summertime warmth that fell over you like golden sunlight. He stared at you long and hard, and you saw something like tears gloss over his gaze.

And when he spoke, his voice was calm, steady, devout:

"I love you, too."

3K notes · View notes

jyoongim · 3 months

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Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you. “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully.

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

Blood.

You were bleeding.

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

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

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea.

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped.

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay

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

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought.

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

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

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you.

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything.

Our future.”

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more.

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you.

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us.

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you.

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

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zyafics · 3 months

Text

brother's rival (part one)

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary you and your brother were born pogues, but once your family made enough to move to figure eight, you became a kook. unfortunately, rafe cameron doesn't welcome pogue-born kooks. it doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the 'king of kooks' title from him. so, if your brother is trying to steal something from him, rafe is going to return the favor.

content series, 18+, smut

"Do you think Kooks actually enjoy this or is this something they do to uphold their image?" You ask your brother, Dean, who swings his golf club, hitting the ball square in the center, and sends the small circular object flying across the land.

He turns back to face you once the ball settles on the grass. His golf club digging into the ground, his arm pressed against the handle. "It's probably an ego thing."

You snort. "If I had to wear this everyday, it would not be an ego thing."

You glance down at your outfit: a simple tennis skirt and top. Since your family moved to Figure Eight a couple months ago, you were also granted access to the prestigious Country Club that sits on the rich side of the island. You and your brother haven't attended any of the events, due to your status as a Pogue-born Kook, but since the summertime rolled around and there's absolutely nothing to do on Figure Eight in the daylight, you two decided to take a little trip.

To get into the role of Kook, both of you decided to wear what the Kooks normally wear. Trading your Pogue attires for tennis skirts, khaki pants, and polo shirts, the two of you almost look the part.

But you still stand out.

"You're next." Your brother tips his golf club in the direction of where he hits his ball. You groan, stepping up to the tee stand where Dean replaced another golf ball for you to swing (and miss). You don't like golfing, you decided, wanting to trade in the Kook uniforms and stuck-up memberships for surfboards and high waves. Unfortunately, your brother does, and he wants to stay.

Not wanting to embarrass yourself, you try to mimic the stance your brother had a few moments ago. You pull yourself into the position, bending slightly over as the end of the club lines in front of the ball.

"You should bend down lower!" A voice shouts and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly who it belongs to. Your head lifts up to see Rafe approaching you, holding his own golf club with a personal caddy following after him from a safe distance.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see your brother's demeanor completely change. His expression pulled taut, his shoulders stiffen, his jaw locked.

Your brother and Rafe do not have a good relationship. Well, if you could even call it a relationship.

You and Dean moved here a couple of months ago. Born and raised on The Cut, your family finally made and saved enough to move you away from a life of poverty and crime to a nice, suburban home on Figure Eight.

However, it wasn't done without a cold welcome. Most of the Kooks don't like you nor your brother. You don't know if it's because you used to be a Pogue or because Rafe Cameron doesn't like the idea of Pogues moving into Kook territory—and made sure everyone followed along—but either way, it caused your experience on Figure Eight to be an unpleasant one.

For the first month, Rafe would send occasional 'gifts' to your door to remind you and your brother of your place. At parties, he would also make sure to let you and your brother know you're not welcomed. He even made a point to throw the keys of his truck to Dean's face, telling him to go do a beer run, and threw some cash alongside as payment. In the heat of the moment, Dean had enough and lost his shit. He swung at Rafe and Rafe swung back.

You had to pull your brother off of Rafe as the Kook King yelled profanities at your brother, blood dripping down his chin, telling him about how he would get him back.

From that point on, it was nonstop rivalry. Whenever they were in the same vicinity, they would either exchange verbal spats or physical altercations. You had to momentarily stop attending any parties because you couldn't handle the possibility of fights.

You didn't want today to be another one.

Dean steps in front of you as Rafe approaches, making sure to block his view from you. The golf club stands between them. "What do you want, Cameron?"

"Just trying to give your sister some advice." Rafe responds with a cocky smile. He raises his own golf club and places the end of the head against Dean's chest. "I didn't know busboys got to play. Must be why this place is going to shit."

You can see the anger rolling off your brother, his hand clenched around the handle of his golf club, causing his knuckles to grow white. Before he does something that would cause the both of you to get in trouble, you step forward, grabbing his forearm.

"Go away, Rafe." You declare, causing the blond to shift his attention from your glaring brother to you. His blue eyes give you a once-over, lingering a little longer at the cutoff of your skirt, before meeting your gaze. "If you think this place is shit, then find another place to play."

"And let a couple of Pogues kick me out of my Country Club?" He declares, twisting his expression in a manner that looks disgusted at the idea before shaking his head with a click of his tongue. "I don't think so, princess."

You hate the nickname that he gave you. It's always in mocking. Since you and your brother arrived at Figure Eight, according to Rafe, Dean has been slowly encroaching on Rafe's territory. Trying to take the crown of King of Kooks from him. This, in turn, caused Rafe to cast you in a secondary role. A mocking declaration of princess as in you will never be one.

You just roll your eyes at him, but you can't help the flutter of warmth that settles on the bottom of your stomach.

"Fuck off, Cameron." Dean declares, his tone laced with aggression, as he steps forward to place some distance between you and the blond. "This place is huge. I'm sure you can find some place where you don't have to see us."

Rafe hums in thought. "That's the thing," he points to the space you and your brother occupies. "What if I want this spot? I'm sure it won't be a problem for you to move." He glances at you and winks. "She can stay. I'm sure she'll be entertaining."

It doesn't take a second later before your brother swings. His fist delivers a satisfying crack against Rafe's jaw, causing him to stubble back a few steps. But, he quickly regains footing. His expression morphs into a deadly one, coming back around and raising his fist to deliver a punch to your own brother before you pull Dean away—stepping in front of him.

"Enough." You declare, clenching down your jaw, in preparation for the blow that never came. Rafe stopped himself a few inches away from your face. But, you don't let that fear show. "We'll move. You can have your fucking game."

With that, you drag your brother and your things away. You don't bother turning around, but you can feel the heat of Rafe's stare in the back of your head, following your every move, until you disappear from his sight.

—

“I’m going to grab something to eat.” You say to your brother, who merely hums in acknowledgement. He’s still a bit pissed off that you stepped in between Rafe and him. But, what else were you supposed to do? You are trying to get situated in this new environment, this new place where everything is a hostile territory. You didn’t want any more trouble that came from it. Yeah, you admit, it was a bit short-sighted of you to step in because you could’ve gotten hurt but fuck him, at least you did something more productive than swinging fists.

You head away from the golf course to the restaurant at the Country Club. You still can't believe you are here. If you had told yourself a year ago that you would’ve be living on Figure Eight, playing golf on the rich side of the island, you would probably laugh and take your drink from you. But, it's true.

You're a Kook.

Well, by classification, but you don't feel like it.

You don't, technically, feel like a Pogue either.

You're just oddly stuck in the middle. You don't know what to make of it. All you want to do is just have fun, live, and not cause any more trouble.

Unfortunately, trouble finds you. As you place your order and wait, leaning against the bar counter and tapping your nails against the granite, a body slides into the space next to you, large and towering. In the corner of your eyes, you catch him playing with the small plastic menu display set on the counter and pick it up with one hand.

He leans against you, pointing to the menu. “What are we ordering, princess?”

You turn your head to face Rafe. “I don’t know. What do assholes eat in their free-time?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“What you’re offering.” He’s watching you as if you are part of the specials. The heat of his gaze feels like it’s undressing you, that it makes you shift your own, tapping the menu in his hand to draw his attention back.

“On the menu, Rafe.”

“Nah.” He abandons the plastic menu on the counter, turning his body completely to face you. His elbow pressed against the counter. “I’m craving something else.”

You swallow hard, looking over to the waitstaff behind the counter, wondering whenthey’re going to be finished with your burger so you can leave.

You know Rafe is only messing with you because it gets to your brother. It’s known on the island that Dean is protective of his little sister, sometimes too much, that Rafe takes advantage of this fact.

Standing here, near Rafe, is dangerous. Not to mention your brother could come over at any time and check up on you, but because, if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t share the same spite and hatred Dean has with the blond.

You’re not sure if you share any of it.

You just think all of it is stupid.

“Speechless now?” He teases, leaning enough where you can catch the scent of his cologne and the woodsy odor from golfing all day. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

You don’t answer him, deciding that the best thing you can do right now is ignore him.

That’s proven to be bad advice because, not moments later, you feel rough fingers grab your chin and force you to turn to Rafe. His eyes are piercing, his gaze studying every little detail of your face as you tried yourhardest to remain unfazed by his presence.

“Ignoring me?” He asks softly, his sight dropping to your lips as he runs the pad of his thumb across the soft plump of your bottom lip. They unconsciously part, just as Rafe’s eyes drift back up to yours. His voice in a mere whisper. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your heart skips a beat and your legs grow weak, barely able to keep you upright. You fight against the instinct to lean into his hand, to take his thumb that lingers on your entrance, into your mouth and suck, but it’s difficult.

He chuckles, watching the internal battle you’re having with yourself, lowering to your height. “You want me badly, do you, princess?”

For a blink of sobriety, you raise your hand to grab his wrist, pulling him off of you, from feeling every little twitch of muscle that changes under his touch, and rolls your eyes. You throw his hand back at him. “You wish.”

The waiter returns with a box of your food and you thank them with a tip, about to grab the to-go box off the counter when Rafe beats you to it. He grabs a hold of your food and raises it just out of your reach.

You glare at him. “Give it back, Rafe.”

“Give me your number.”

You are taken back by that. “What?”

“Give me your number.” He repeats, his determination set on his face as he waits for you to answer. “Or, do you want me to beg for it?”

The sight of Rafe on his knees is not unappealing, but you rather not have another image of him doing something that would return when your hands are between your legs. Instead, you settle on something equally humiliating for him. “Say please.”

He looks at you, bewildered, and scoffs. “I’m not doing that.”

“Then you’re not getting my number.”

“You forget I have your food.”

“You forget I have money now,” you pull out your credit card. “I can order another one.”

His jaw clenches, and for the first time, Rafe Cameron is backed into a corner he doesn’t know how to escape from. With a resigned sigh, he says, reluctantly, “please.”

“I need more enthusiasm.”

He cuts a dark look at you. “Don’t push it, princess.”

You laugh, before holding out your palm. His free hand finds his phone in his back pocket and offers it to you. You easily type the digits, add your contact to his phone and quickly send a text to yourself to remember the number. When you return your phone back to him, he exchanges it for your food.

When you’re about to head back to your brother, you hear Rafe shout behind you, “I’ll text you.”

Suppressing a grin, even though he can’t see you, you throw your response over your shoulder. “I might answer.”

★ part two ★

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

Text

Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.

Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.

How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.

Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.

‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.

Jason groans, showing that he was listening.

‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.

‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.

‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.

‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’

You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’

Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.

‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.

‘That’s not-‘

‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.

‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’

‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’

A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.

‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’

You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.

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perlelune · 6 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone.

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis.

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment.

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you.

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him.

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling.

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table.

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance.

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow.

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation.

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat.

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment.

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table.

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters.

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s.

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand.

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair.

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him.

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden.

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it.

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn.

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes.

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop.

Your head snaps up.

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat.

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you.

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it.

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest.

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier.

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus x reader

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ghostbsuter · 7 months

Text

Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.

Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.

The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.

Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.

"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.

"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"

The vigilante grunts. "Joker."

"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"

He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.

(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)

"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.

It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.

"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"

A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.

(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)

"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.

Which brings another question.

Son?

Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.

Joker and Harley have a child. A son.

He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.

"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.

(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)

"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.

"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."

(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)

"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—

His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!

"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.

"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.

Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.

"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."

The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.

"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!

(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)

Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.

Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.

Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.

He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.

"Have fun bats and birds!"

The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?

It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.

An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.

Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.

He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.

"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.

Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.

Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

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hoshifighting · 3 months

Text

"S" on My Chest, 'Cause I'm Ready to Save Him

Synopsis: Amidst the chaos of your world, you found Seungcheol, a man with gummy smile who melted the icy walls around your heart. But just when things were heating up between you two… You find out he's from a rival mafia, all thanks to a tattoo on his back. And you have to protect him.

Warnings: Smut, angst, mafia, oral (f. receiving), pussy slapping, unprotected sex, begging, manhandling, penetrative sex, dirty talk, lies, crying, threat of suicide, violence, organized crime, betrayal and etc.

Word Count: 7.1k

Reader! Mafia X Seungcheol! Enemy Mafia

You, the underboss of a powerful mafia syndicate. Born into a legacy of organized crime, you inherited the reins of power from your father, stepping into a world where loyalty was currency, and trust was a rare gem amidst the sea of deceit.

For years, you navigated the treacherous waters of the underworld with precision and cunning, your focus solely on the tasks at hand, your heart shielded behind walls of steel. Love was a concept long forgotten, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You had grown so selective, so cautious, that even the notion of such an emotion seemed foreign, a distant memory fading into the abyss of your past.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Enter Seungcheol - a beacon of light in the darkness, his presence like a breath of fresh air in the smoky haze of your existence. With his dark locks and a gummy smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts, he sauntered into your life like a whirlwind, disrupting the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself.

At first, he was just a familiar face at your favorite bar, a friendly ear amidst the chaos of your world. He listened to your frustrations with genuine interest, his empathy a balm to your weary soul. Slowly but surely, he wormed his way into your life, becoming not just a friend, but a confidant, a pillar of support in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

Before you knew it, Seungcheol had captured your heart a year ago, his unwavering devotion breaking down the barriers you had so meticulously erected. He showered you with affection, his gestures grand and heartfelt - bouquets of flowers that filled your home with their sweet fragrance, extravagant dinners where laughter flowed freely, and nights filled with excitement and passion.

[...]

As Seungcheol's hips moved with effortless rhythm, igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body, you clung to him desperately, as if afraid he might slip away into the night. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer, your heart pounding in sync with his as your chests pressed together in a passionate embrace.

Locked in each other's gaze, your eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. And as the pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, you couldn't help but moan his name over and over again, each syllable a fervent prayer on your lips.

In the midst of ecstasy, Seungcheol's voice, husky and filled with desire, intertwined with yours in a seductive dance of words.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he trailed kisses along your neck. "You love it when I make you feel this good."

His words sent shivers down your spine, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he continued to tease and tantalize you with his dirty talk.

"Tell me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how badly you want to cum."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your words tumbling out in a fevered rush as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered.

"I need you" you gasped, your voice raw with desire. "I need you to make me yours, to make me cum until I can't think of anything else but you."

As Seungcheol continued his relentless assault on your senses, driving you to the brink of oblivion, your body responded with fervor, your walls clenching around him in a powerful crescendo of pleasure. Lost in your orgasm, you could feel the sheets beneath you grow damp with the evidence of your cum.

His hips stuttered against yours, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he sought solace in your embrace. In that moment of pure bliss, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal connection between you and him, binding you together in an unbreakable bond of desire and need.

As you slipped out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom, leaving Seungcheol to bask in the warmth of the sheets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the chaos of your life outside these walls, here, in this moment, everything felt right.

As you returned to the room, your heart fluttered with anticipation, eager to reunite with Seungcheol after your brief absence. But as your eyes fell upon his form, lying face down on the bed, a smile playing on his lips, your breath caught in your throat.

Something was different.

With hesitant steps, you approached him, the smile on your face faltering as you noticed the new addition to his soft skin - a tattoo etched into his flesh, unmistakably belonging to your rival mafia. Your blood ran cold, a shiver coursing through your entire being as the implications of his inked allegiance sank in.

Tentatively, you reached out to touch his back, your fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo with a mixture of disbelief and dread. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee from the danger that now lay before you, but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the damning mark.

Seungcheol's smile faded as he caught sight of your expression, confusion flickering in his eyes before realization dawned. He rose from the bed, his movements slow and cautious, as if afraid to startle a wild animal.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he reached out to you, his hand outstretched in a gesture of comfort.

But you flinched away, your entire body trembling with fear and uncertainty. How could you have been so blind, so naive to trust someone who bore the mark of your enemy?

"I... I didn't mean for you to find out like this," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "But please, you have to believe me. I'm not who you think I am. I love you, and I would never betray you."

"You knew... you knew who I was all this time..." you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and betrayal. Stepping back, you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in a way that Seungcheol had never made you feel before.

As he took a step closer, his expression fraught with concern, you couldn't help but recoil, the weight of his deception heavy upon your shoulders.

But Seungcheol shook his head vigorously, his eyes filled with sorrow as he attempted to calm the storm brewing within you. "No, Y/N, I didn't know at first" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I swear, I only found out after we were already together."

Your mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with the truth that now lay bare before you. Could you believe him? Your job was no longer to play with dolls in beautiful pink dresses, in which they found her dream prince. Now, any relationship you get involved in would have its consequences.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, you hugged yourself tighter, your gaze locked with his as you searched for any hint of deceit. But all you found was genuine remorse and a desperate sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings.

Tears welled up in your eyes, finally breaking free in a choked sob as you hastily reached for your clothes, your hands trembling. Seungcheol felt the desperation pulsing through his veins, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain.

He reached out to touch your arm, a gesture of comfort born out of instinct, but you flinched away, your voice trembling as you pleaded with him to refrain. "Please... don't touch me." you whispered, your words a knife to his heart as you recoiled from his touch.

Seungcheol's hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your rejection crushing him with its intensity. You had always craved his touch, sought out his warmth and affection with a hunger that matched his own, and now to see you pull away from him like this was more than he could bear.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as tears began to trail down his cheeks, mirroring the pain in your eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you."

You continued to dress yourself in silence.

With a heavy heart, he watched as you prepared to leave, the realization dawning on him that he may never see you again. The thought was like a dagger to his soul, piercing him with a pain that cut deeper than any blade.

"I love you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to you one last time, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Please... don't go."

But as you turned away, the tears in your eyes reflecting the agony in his own, Seungcheol knew that it was too late. The damage had been done.

Breathless and heartbroken, you dashed through the empty streets, the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Each stride felt like a dagger to your soul, the weight of betrayal heavy on your shoulders as you raced towards your home.

Arriving at last, you wasted no time in summoning your most trusted hacking team, their expertise your only hope in unraveling the truth of Seungcheol's identity. With trembling hands, you guided them through the labyrinth of digital defenses, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited the results.

And then, there it was - displayed on the screen in stark black and white, irrefutable evidence of Seungcheol's treachery. Not only did he belong to your rival mafia, but he was the very owner, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

As the days passed, you heard a distant conversation between your dad and his henchmen. About this gang, the name matching the tattoo of the person you loved the most. The plan would be to meet the leader in an empty warehouse near one of the least busy streets in the metropolis. And that was enough for you to not even want to hear the rest.

You were going against your own laws, days passed after the incident. But his death was the last thing you wanted. And you knew what your dad was capable of.

Seungcheol's attempts to reach out to you came in waves, a relentless barrage of emails, messages, and calls that served as a constant reminder of the love you craved every day. Despite your best efforts to block him out, he persisted, his promises of redemption and declarations of undying love echoing in your ears like a haunting melody.

Despite the pain that still lingered within you, you knew that you had to push forward, to be the strong, capable woman that your role in the mafia required you to be.

With each calculated move, each careful step, you reaffirmed your commitment to your role within the organization, knowing that nothing could repair the wounds that had been inflicted upon your heart. But even as you buried yourself in your work, the memory of Seungcheol being in danger lingered in the recesses of your mind.

[...]

As you walked with a heavy heart, a gun gripped tightly in your trembling hand, you knew that you were treading dangerous ground. Your father had warned you countless times to steer clear of this mission, but the nagging feeling in your gut told you that you couldn't ignore it - not when the safety of someone so dear to you hung in the balance.

The air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit alleyways, your senses on high alert as you navigated the maze of crumbling buildings and shadowed corners. The mission weighed heavily on your mind, the stakes higher than ever as you ventured deeper into enemy territory.

And yet, despite the pain, you remained focused on the task at hand, determined to see it through to the end.

Entering in a big empty shed, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty place, alerting you to the presence of another. Instinctively, you reached for the gun tucked at your waist, your muscles tensing as you prepared for a confrontation.

And then, he stepped into view - Seungcheol, his eyes widening in surprise as he locked gazes with you, the shock evident on his face. "Y/N, this is dangerous shit. What are you doing here?"

"What is it? Didn't you already know this was my job?" Your damn pride now decided to speak louder.

"Y/N, please... you have to listen to me" he pleaded, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Tell me why I should trust you," you demanded, your voice laced with anger and hurt. "After you've hidden everything, why should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"

"I knew... I knew about your identity," he admitted, his voice strained with regret as he looked at you with eyes filled with pain. "But I didn't know from the beginning. I swear, Y/N, I didn't."

His words hung heavy in the air between you, a silent admission of guilt and regret that echoed in the depths of your soul. And as he continued to speak, his voice raw with emotion, you couldn't help but listen, despite the chaos that raged around you.

"I was alone," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Commanding this and that, but always alone. And you... you were my comfort, my solace. You were the embrace at the end of the day that I craved more than anything."

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, the realization dawning on you that perhaps there was more to his deception than met the eye. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth reflected back at you - the fear, the loneliness, the desperate longing for connection that had driven him to keep his secrets buried deep within.

His eyes seemed redder than normal, his dark circles were deep, and you noticed his hands shaking in his pockets. How much you were missed in his life, showing physically in him too. And you don't think it's very different from you.

"I was afraid" he confessed, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "Afraid to tell you, because I knew that sooner or later, this would be your reaction. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of losing the one person who meant everything to me."

And then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room as people entered, forming a circle around you. Among them was your father's team, your dad's trusted compatriots who now stood before you with a mixture of concern and determination etched on their faces.

One of them, your father's longtime partner, stepped forward, his voice grave as he addressed you. "Y/N, you need to leave," he said, his words ringing in your ears like a death knell. "Or else you'll be at risk."

But before you could protest, Seungcheol stepped forward, his expression desperate as he pleaded with you to listen. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice cracking with emotion. "You have to leave. You can't do this."

You turned to him, your heart aching with the weight of the decision before you.

And then, without hesitation, you raised your gun, pointing it at your own team, who looked at you with shock and disbelief.

Seungcheol's eyes widened in horror as he realized what you were about to do. "No, Y/N, stop!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.

But you were beyond reason, consumed by a fierce determination to protect the man you loved at any cost. And as you stood there, gun in hand, facing down your own team, you knew that the line between loyalty and betrayal had blurred beyond recognition.

As your father appeared amidst the confusion, his eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding before him. The sight of you, tears streaming down your face, with a gun pointed at your own team, was a stark contrast to the composed, capable operative he had always known you to be.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as your father took in the gravity of the situation. It had been years since he had seen you cry like this, It was probably while you were still a child, years since you had allowed yourself to show such vulnerability in front of him. And the sight of his child in such distress made his heart ache with a pain he couldn't bear. "What the hell are you doing, Y/N?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Put the gun down, now."

You hesitated, torn between the love you felt for Seungcheol and the loyalty you owed to your father and the team. But before you could respond, Seungcheol stepped forward, his presence a reassuring weight against your back.

But before you could respond, Seungcheol spoke up, his voice filled with urgency. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, his grip on you tightening. "You have to let me go. I can't bear to see you put yourself in danger like this."

He was afraid that you wouldn't be able to bear the weight of the consequences, that the burden of his actions would crush you beneath its weight.

But you refused to let him go, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. For in that moment, Seungcheol was more than just a lover – he was your anchor amidst the storm, the one person who had stood by you through thick and thin. The only person who didn't disappear when he discovered his true identity.

"Dad, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You don't understand."

But your father's expression remained resolute, his eyes flickering with concern as he took in the scene before him. "I don't care what your reasons are," he replied firmly. "Violence is not the answer."

"Dad, I know violence isn't the answer," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears still streaking down your cheeks. "But you have to understand, if I leave now, they're going to kill him. Don't act like you don't know what they're capable of, because I've seen it firsthand."

Your father's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he took in your words. He may not have agreed with your methods, but he couldn't deny the truth of what you were saying.

As the tension reached its breaking point, you felt the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. With the sound of your father's henchmen cocking their guns ringing in your ears, you knew that you were running out of time.

"I would do everything for him, Dad," you said, your voice unwavering despite the fear pulsing through your veins. "And when I say everything, I mean everything."

With trembling hands, you raised your gun and pressed it against your own temple, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around at the worried faces of those around you. "If anyone moves," you declared, your voice steady, "I will kill myself."

The room fell into a shocked silence, the air heavy with the weight of your words. Even Seungcheol, who stood frozen in disbelief, felt his heart plummet at the sight of you in such a precarious position. Holding your jacket with the intention of making you give up.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone processed the gravity of the situation. Your father's henchmen hesitated, their guns wavering as they exchanged uncertain glances. And amidst the chaos and confusion, you remained resolute, your finger poised on the trigger, ready to follow through on your desperate threat.

Your team knew that your death would spell the end of everything, that your father would never forgive them for letting it come to this.

"Dad," you began, your voice quivering, "you know I've never asked anything for myself. It's never mattered to me how much money we had or what position we held. But this... this is the only thing I'm asking you for."

Your father's expression softened, his features reflecting the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. Now he knew the depth of your love for Seungcheol, and he understood the lengths you were willing to go to protect him. After all, your dad had never seen you in love before. He observed the way Seungcheol, the mafia leader who needed to be cold enough to bear with leadership, held you tight, afraid to lose you, his own eyes reddened from the tears that hadn't stopped since.

For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as everyone waited for your father's response. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and understanding.

"I'll do what I can," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to promise me one thing, Y/N. Promise me that you'll put the gun down."

His words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the gravity of the situation. And as you looked into your father's eyes, you knew that this was your only chance to save Seungcheol.

With a trembling hand, you lowered the gun, the weight of it slipping from your grasp as you stepped back, the tears still flowing freely down your cheeks. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your father's authoritative voice cut through the stillness, commanding everyone to lower their guns. With a collective sigh of relief, the henchmen complied, their weapons lowering to their sides as the standoff came to an end.

With the immediate threat diffused, you turned around, your heart heavy with emotion as you sought solace in Seungcheol's comforting embrace. Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within you.

Seungcheol held you tightly, his arms a reassuring anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within you. In that moment, the walls you had erected around your heart crumbled, allowing your vulnerability to flood forth like a rushing river.

And as you cried like a baby in his arms, Seungcheol held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he too allowed himself to be vulnerable in your presence. Together, you shared a moment of raw emotion, a testament to the depth of your love and the strength of your bond.

Meanwhile, your father stood nearby, his expression a mixture of relief and contemplation as he observed the scene before him. Wiping his forehead with his hand, he took in the gravity of the situation, the weight of his daughter's love for Seungcheol weighing heavily on his heart.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and the turmoil, your father realized that he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. The love you and Seungcheol were sharing behind his back, was undeniable, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to protect it, even if it meant going against everything he had ever believed in.

As the tension eased and the henchmen filed out of the room under your father's silent command, a heavy silence settled over the empty space, leaving only you, Seungcheol, and your father standing amidst the remnants of the standoff.

The sound of footsteps echoing against the cold, concrete walls served as a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation that had just unfolded. Your father's expression remained inscrutable as he turned to face the two of you, his gaze lingering on the intertwined figures of you and Seungcheol.

Once they were gone, your father turned his attention to Seungcheol, his expression unreadable as he addressed the mafia leader. "Where are your henchmen?" he asked, his tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

Seungcheol met your father's gaze squarely, his own eyes unwavering as he replied, "I came alone, sir."

Your father's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a mixture of confusion and concern crossing his features. "Why would you do that?" he questioned, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Putting yourself in danger like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because I knew Y/N's father was here," he explained, his voice steady. "And I didn't want to risk any violence, not when her family is involved."

Your father's gaze softened, a hint of admiration shining through as he regarded Seungcheol. "I see," he said, his tone reflecting a newfound respect for the man standing before him. "That's quite a risk you took, Seungcheol. But I appreciate your efforts to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

Seungcheol nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he received your father's approval. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice humble. "I just want what's best for Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

Your father's gaze softened as he took in the sight of your swollen eyes and trembling form, the toll of the intense standoff evident in every quiver of your body. With a gentle hand, he placed it on your head, a silent gesture of comfort and reassurance.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with paternal concern, "you need to rest. It's been a long night, and you've been through a lot."

You nodded weakly, the exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, the weight of the events that had unfolded left you feeling drained and emotionally spent.

Turning to Seungcheol, your father's expression softened even further. "Take care of her," he instructed, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "She's been through enough tonight."

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination as he took your hand in his. "I will," he promised, his voice steady. "I'll make sure she gets some rest."

[...]

As you stepped through the door, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the tension of the night slowly beginning to ebb away.

Without a word, Seungcheol guided you to the couch, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he led you to sit down. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of comfort through you, easing the ache that lingered in your bones.

As you settled onto the couch, Seungcheol disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a blanket and a steaming mug of tea. He draped the blanket over your shoulders, his touch gentle and reassuring, before handing you the mug with a soft smile.

"Drink this," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "It'll help you relax."

As Seungcheol sat beside you, his gaze filled with concern, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the tension that lingered between you. With a hesitant voice, he broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind since the events of the night unfolded.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness

"I'm not mad, Seungcheol," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm just... confused."

Seungcheol nodded, his expression filled with empathy as he listened intently. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "I know I've kept things from you, and I'm sorry for that."

You sighed, the frustration and uncertainty of the situation bubbling to the surface. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner," you admitted.

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "But I want you to know that I never meant to keep anything from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you said quietly. "And I forgive you. But moving forward, I don't want there to be any more secrets between us."

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise. "I agree," he said, his voice firm. "No more secrets. I'll tell you everything, I promise."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, easing the tension that had settled between you. And as you talked, the conversation flowed freely, the walls between you crumbling away as you laid bare your fears and insecurities.

"It's just... I miss you, Seungcheol," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us. The way things used to be."

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I miss it too," he confessed, his voice filled with longing. "I miss being able to be completely open with you, to share everything without reservation."

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of love and frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. "I love and hate how you bring out this side of me," you admitted, chuckling. "The side that's open-hearted and vulnerable, that shows my feelings like a teenager in love."

Without another word, you reached out, pulling him close by his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Seungcheol leaned into the kiss, his own desire evident in the way he responded, but before things could escalate further, he pulled back, his expression conflicted.

"Y/N, we... we should take things slow," he said gently, his voice tinged with regret. "You've been through a lot tonight, and you need to rest."

But you shook your head, your eyes darkening with desire as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent plea for more. "I'm not tired, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Not when I'm with you."

As Seungcheol pulled you onto his lap, a surge of desire coursed through your veins, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both. His hand tangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine as he pressed you down onto his throbbing cock.

Desperation fueled your movements as you eagerly tugged at the hem of his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in your haste to rid him of the barrier between you. With a husky laugh, Seungcheol obliged, lifting his arms to allow you to peel the shirt from his toned torso.

The sight of his bare chest sent a rush of heat to your core, the muscles rippling beneath his skin a tantalizing invitation that you couldn't resist. Your hands roamed greedily over his chest, tracing every contour and dip as you reveled in the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "You're so eager, aren't you?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "But don't worry, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

Seungcheol's laughter echoed in the room, a sound that only served to fuel your desire further. With a hungry growl, you leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing in a passionate tango as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

As you continued to grind your clothed core against Seungcheol's throbbing cock confined within his jeans, the intensity of your arousal reached new heights. The sensation was so intense that you had to break the kiss, letting out a low, guttural moan that reverberated against Seungcheol's lips.

His own desire was evident, his chin quivering as he fought to hold back his own moans of pleasure. But unable to resist any longer, Seungcheol swiftly freed you from your shirt, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.

With a sense of urgency, Seungcheol lowered his head, capturing one of your exposed nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his warm tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, his lips closing around it in a deliciously tantalizing embrace.

Seungcheol lavished attention on one nipple, his hand eagerly reachingj for the other, his fingers expertly pinching and rolling the hardened peak between his fingertips.

As you opened your eyes, the world around you seemed to blur for a moment before coming into focus. And in that instant, you realized that you were no longer on the couch, but instead lying naked on Seungcheol's bed.

A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you took in the sight before you, the realization sinking in that Seungcheol had effortlessly whisked you away to his bedroom with incredible speed. It was yet another testament to his quick reflexes and agility, qualities that you found incredibly alluring.

Seungcheol's lips left a trail of wet, fiery kisses down your skin, each one igniting a new wave of desire within you. Your eyes followed his every movement, locking onto his gaze as he looked up at you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue traced a tantalizing path along your slick folds, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your throat. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your slick wetting his tongue as he continued to explore every inch of your pussy.

But as his tongue teased and tantalized your clit, driving you to the brink of madness with each flick and swirl, you couldn't help but tremble with anticipation.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing me, Seungcheol. I need you."

Seungcheol's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing with amusement. "Oh, baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "But teasing you is half the fun. And besides, I love seeing you squirm and moan for me."

As Seungcheol's tongue lapped at your clit with an intensity that bordered on exquisite torture, you felt a fire ignite within you, consuming you with a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Your back arched involuntarily, a promise of the orgasm that loomed tantalizingly close on the horizon.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, Seungcheol abruptly pulled away, leaving you panting and trembling with need. Your legs quivered with embarrassment as he rose from between your thighs, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Desperate for release, you begged him once more, your voice thick with desire and longing. But instead of granting your request, Seungcheol pouted playfully, delivering little slaps to your swollen pussy that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each slap elicited a gasp of pleasure from deep within your throat, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand in search of more. And when Seungcheol least expected it, you surprised him by cumming just from the sensation of his hand against your sensitive flesh.

With a cry of ecstasy, you grabbed hold of his wrist, pressing his hand firmly against your throbbing cunt as you rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed over you.

"Well, well, well," he teased, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery. "Looks like someone's a little too eager, hmm? Cumming just from a few little slaps on that pretty little pussy of yours."

With a coy tilt of your head, you met his gaze squarely, your voice steady despite the lingering traces of embarrassment. "Well then," you said, your tone playful yet assertive. "Are you going to fuck this pussy or what?"

Seungcheol's sudden assertiveness took you by surprise, his red ears and the way his pants and underwear fell to the ground signaling his overwhelming desire. Before you could react, he had manhandled you around the room, pressing your back against the wall with a force that left you breathless.

"Since you want to feel this cock," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "you're going to feel it entirely."

With that, he thrust his cock deep inside of your pussy, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely. His grip tightened behind your legs, holding you securely against him as you clung to his neck, your nails digging into his skin with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

As the position allowed him to hit your g'spot with each powerful thrust, pleasure surged through you in waves, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body arching against his as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over you.

Seungcheol's voice was a low, guttural moan as he continued to drive into you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Feeling me deep inside you, hitting all the right spots."

"Oh God! Seungcheol-ah!"

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire as he heard you moan his name, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Moan my name again. I want to hear you scream it."

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a sense of urgency, you complied, your voice a breathless whisper as you cried out his name once more.

"Seungcheol," you moaned, the sound echoing through the room as pleasure washed over you in a relentless wave. "Oh god, Seungcheol, yes!"

With a hand tangled in Seungcheol's hair, you felt the tension building within you, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming," you warned, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt the climax approaching.

Seungcheol responded with slow, sharp, and hard thrusts, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it eagerly, relishing in the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.

"I got you, baby, I got you," Seungcheol murmured, his voice filled with reassurance and desire. "Oh my god, cum for me."

His words were all it took to push you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you creamed all over his cock. The sound of your release mixed with the slickness of your arousal filled the room, a symphony of wetness that echoed off the walls.

In that moment, any doubts you had about Seungcheol's strength faded away, replaced by the certainty of his embrace. His arms held you so tight that you couldn't help but feel safe, trusting him completely to carry you through the intensity of your orgasm.

As Seungcheol gazed into your eyes, he couldn't help but be captivated by the lazy smile that played on your lips, your gaze still clouded with the aftermath of pleasure. He gently lay you back on the bed, his fingers trailing along your skin as he asked if you could handle another round.

"Ready for round two, baby?" Seungcheol murmured, his voice thick with desire as he positioned himself between your legs. "I want to make you cum again, even harder this time."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, excitement coursing through you as you eagerly awaited his touch. "Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, Seungcheol, fuck me hard."

You nodded eagerly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you spread your legs for him, inviting him to take you once more.

With a growl of approval, Seungcheol buried his cock deep inside of your sopping cunt, the sensation of him filling you once again sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each powerful thrust, he drove deeper into you, feeling your pussy getting tighter every second.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Seungcheol groaned, his voice thick with lust as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together. "I could fuck you like this all night long."

"Yes, Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice hoarse already "Fuck me harder, baby. Make me cum all over your cock."

Seungcheol whimpered at your words, you could feel the intensity of his desire growing, his cock twitching inside of you with each thrust. Determined to drive him over the edge, you watched with anticipation as he licked his thumb and began to massage your clit with incredible speed.

As your pussy clenched around him, Seungcheol felt a surge of pleasure shoot through his body, his own orgasm crashing over him with an intensity that left him trembling. He watched you in awe, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you screamed in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you rode out the waves of your climax.

With almost closed eyes, Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed on you, his own pleasure mirrored in the way his body convulsed with each pulse of release. His hands trembled around your hips as his cum spilled into you, filling you up with each pulsating throb.

Despite his best efforts to keep up the dirty talk, Seungcheol found himself overcome by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, his words reduced to incoherent moans and stuttered phrases. "Oh god," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."

As Seungcheol crawled to you and laid his head on your chest, hugging you tightly, you felt a sense of warmth and comfort enveloping you. But when you felt the hot tears against your skin, your heart clenched with worry.

"What's wrong, Seungcheol?" you asked softly, your voice filled with tenderness and concern. "Why are you crying?"

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he met your gaze, his expression a mixture of sadness and regret. "I just... I can't believe how brave you were today," he murmured. "You risked everything to protect me, even after everything that happened. And I... I just wish I could have protected you better."

Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his love and concern for you shining through despite his tears. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, offering him comfort and reassurance in the face of his distress.

"You don't need to protect me, Seungcheol," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We protect each other. That's what love is all about."

Seungcheol's tears continued to fall, but you could sense a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he leaned into your embrace, finding solace in your words.

"I missed you so much, Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice filled with love and longing. "More than you'll ever know."

His eyes softened at your words, a small smile playing on his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "I love you," he said softly, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

Text

Pinky Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader !Soulmate AU

~ where your birthmark is where you'll first touch your soulmate ~

A pinky finger is an odd place to have a soulmate mark. Most people had full hands, a set of lips marked on their cheek, or a hand print on their hip. Yet yours was just the length of your left hand pinky finger.

No matter, you'd had the habit of locking pinky's with people since you were born. Call it natural habit or a desperation to link fingers with your soulmate, it was your thing.

So when you started your internship at the Bludhaven Police Department Sheriff's office and got finger printed you didn't think anything of it when officer Grayson paused on your last finger.

"This your soulmate mark?" he gestured to your pinky, which was darker than the rest of your skin colour.

"Funny right! Just the pinky. Most people have normal ones! Where's yours? Wait. Is it on your lips?" you glanced up at the officer with a grin as he flushed.

"We all meet our soulmates in strange ways." he mumbled with a smile.

"Truth or dare? Or Suck and Blow? It had to be a party game right?" you leaned in as Officer Grayson pressed your pinky into ink.

"It was more of a greeting, she's not from around here so it was her way of saying hello." he stated, eyes twinkling with a familiar joy. God you wanted that. He continued, "I'll tell you, I know a kid with a pinky mark too. Cant remember which hand though. I'll bring him in soon, though neither of you seem like each other's type." you noticed his brows furrowed thinking about the "kid" he mentioned.

"Bring him in like, a bad guy? Not sure that's my type! I'm just here to learn about forensics!" you giggled. The officer just shook his head and told you to go start reviewing the steps to finger print collection and storage. Sounded super fun and interesting (not).

Turns out there's a lot to learn about crime forensics. By the end of the day you had a backpack full of materials to study on your transit ride back to Gotham. Hiking up fire escapes to the top of your apartment building, you decided to study via the lights from the top of your building. Nothing like the haze of Gotham to comfort you through pages of reading.

"Glad to see you're back." A familiar voice chided from your side.

"C'mon, you're excited to see me!" you grinned into the darkness, willing the shadowy figure to come forward. Like usual, he did.

"Good to see you, Robin." you waved with a teasing smile as he visibly shook his head.

"Can't say the same Y/N. I had more peaceful nights when you weren't here. What's got you up late this time?" he grumbled, keeping his distance as you held up your bunches of papers exclaiming "studying! Always studying."

"And you can't do that from the safety of your apartment?" he questioned. You shook your head no in response. "Need I remind you of the multiple times I've had to throw people off this balcony for you?" he yawned, gesturing to the ledge of the rooftop.

"Aren't I so lucky you're protecting me!" you teased. He wasn't wrong, sketchy people had on more than one occasion lurked on top the Gotham's tallest buildings, but you enjoyed the view and trusted Robin far too much to change your place of comfort.

"Protecting Gotham." he retorted, moving towards the rooftop to jump towards a night full of crime fighting. You never tried to stop him from leaving, you still thought it was insane that he even paused to talk to you, so you just waved and watched as he launched into darkness. Curling back up with your notes you appreciated the blanket of safety his presence had placed on you.

"Damian I'm telling you she has the mark on her pinky!" Dick screeched, chasing after Damian who was not willing to hear anything he had to say. "What do I care Grayson? I don't want a soulmate, I'm busy," he retorted, cascading through the batcave to get away from Dick's prying eyes.

"Just let me see! I wanna know!" Dick cried but Damian had already slammed his door closed.

"Word on the street is Dames found a rooftop girl. You didn't hear it from me though." Tim called from the adjacent room. The two were usually stuck on patrol together so it did make sense. But Dick still couldn't believe it.

"Which goddamn rooftop." Dick's voice was a low hum, the determination dripping from his tongue. He had a theory.

"Morning Officer Grayson!" you called down the hallways of the BPD office. You'd finally gotten a full night of sleep last night because you had finished studying a couple days ago, free from the piles of work. Your morning glee quickly dissipated when you were promptly handed a stack of papers and binders.

"You're doing great work, so we're moving you up to sample analysis. Lots of reading for ya!" the officer sounded congratulatory as he handed you the piles of paperwork. You couldn't deny, this was what you wanted, but it was definitely more work than you could do in one day. Needless to say, you hoped you'd get to see a familiar bird brain that night.

Cozying up on the rooftop you were so deep into the inner-workings of a microscope you hardly noticed the shadowy figure that had appeared across from you.

"Studying again are we?" Robin's snarky voice made you jump, eyes snapping to his face. "Tons of work! Calls for an all nighter, what about you?" you simply replied.

"Patrol." His response was curt but you wanted more this time.

"What after? Tell me- what does a hero do in his free time?" you leaned in with a teasing smile. To your surprise Robin leaned back against the railing and responded "I like to draw." Giving you more of a key into him than you'd ever gotten.

"I'm a terrible artist but I bet you're amazing! Keen eyes and steady hands always make for good art. You should show me sometime! If you want!" you rambled with a grin. You figured it would be an automatic no, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, almost like a smile as he said, "maybe I will." Something blossomed in your chest.

"Well, you're always welcome here! Like, all night. It's brutal." you joked, gesturing at the piles of papers in your lap.

"I may just take you up on that, my brother has been overwhelmingly obnoxious at home. Have a good night." Robin muttered as he left over the rooftop railing once again. You smiled to yourself, he likes to draw and he has a brother? Fascinating.

You were practically asleep in your notes when you felt something bump into your chest. A surprisingly elegant paper airplane. From the shadows you could see Robin sitting across from you, back against the rooftop railing, a notepad and pencil in his arms as he starred up at you.

"What? You were practically snoring." he said matter-of-factly.

"For the record, I do not snore. Also, how'd you make this? It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, delicately holding up the paper airplane to appreciate the little curves of the thick paper.

"I was into origami for a while. It's almost mathematical, very satisfying." his reply was short again, seemingly focused on the sketching at hand. So you fell into silence with him, focusing up on your note taking.

You didn't exactly notice the sun starting to rise. It was hard to see in Gotham, smog and all, but the inkling of light from the hazy sky gave you a clearer picture of the boy wonder then you'd ever gotten.

It felt strange but he was gorgeous. Silky black hair tousled from running his hands through it in between pencil scratches, when he was focused he bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows knit into determination. You appreciated the reds and yellows of his costume, noting the various weapons hitched across his body. But the rest was hidden. Whether behind his domino mask, his suit, or his silence.

"It's rude to stare at a working artist" he grumbled, chin tilting up to show that his eyes were meeting yours.

"You've never stayed this long." you replied breathlessly. Squirming in your chair, knowing that you couldn't get any closer without him running off.

"Your presence isn't, unbearable, for what it's worth." his voice was so low but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Same to you." you whispered back, letting your tired eyes drift back to your notes which were pretty much done. It was an all nighter after all.

It felt like a few minutes but the billowing light from the rising sun told you it had been longer, and your head was severely drooping into your lap. "Y/n, you need sleep. Go to bed," his voice was warm but stern, enough to get you to lazily collect your papers and stand up with a yawn.

"Well! Thanks for hanging with me!" deliriously you held out your fist, Robin tilted his head to the side in confusion. You chuckled, "it's a fist bump dumbass." And to your surprise he closed the distance between the two of you, and slowly touched his knuckled to yours. His gloves were cold but you were focused on the fact that you were just inches from the boy wonder.

But a few seconds was all you got to realize how much taller he was than you before he melted back into the shadows. You stood stunned for a moment before stumbling back to your apartment, desperate for sleep.

"You look like hell kid" Officer Grayson greeted you with a questioning look as you waved him off of you. "Your fault for giving me hours of reading buddy." He grinned glancing down at the now filled notebook you'd brought to work. "You actually look dead kid, on lunch break we'll grab coffee," you rolled your eyes at his promise but knew you needed the caffeine.

Getting to know Officer Grayson, Dick, was surprisingly rewarding. He had years of experience and hundreds of stories that had you folded over from laughter. But there was something you were begging to learn more about, someone rather.

"Have you worked with Robin much?" your question broke the calm silence. Dick's eyes shone with some sort of pride, "I have, yeah. Good kid. Cold as hell but a damn good hero." and you nodded in reply, although cold wasn't exactly the way you'd describe Robin.

Dick's eyes lit up at something behind you, he shot up out of his cafe chair and said "look what the cat dragged! Glad to see you lil bro!" A loud enough exclamation that you turned around and locked eyes with a boy with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. The boy stood stunned at the door, starring at you and Dick before slowly approaching, eyes trained to yours before Dick pulled him into a hug. Immediately, he pushed himself out of Dick's embrace with a scowl, you couldn't help but grin at the reaction.

"Y/N meet Damian, Dames this is Y/N she's an intern at the office! Damian has classes over here so I figured we'd catch him during our break!" Dick babbled as he forcefully guided Damian into the seat next to him. Damian looked almost stunned, eyes flicking between you and his brother.

You broke Dick's rambling saying "Hi! You're a student too?" and he nodded slowly, glancing between you and Dick. "Studying what?" you tried to guide the conversation but he interrupted:

"You live in the area?"

"Nope, Gotham."

"Oh, me too." was all Damian muttered before his name was called, and he shot up, mumbling a "nice to meet you" and giving Dick another glare. Dick just grinned in response and the two of you soon headed back to the office.

"You had no right to do that!" Damian's roar was echoing in the cave that night. He'd just finished throwing almost everything on his person at Dick who was still uncontrollably laughing.

"C'mon Dames, were you just gonna visit your soulmate every once and a while on a rooftop for the rest of your life? Make a move lil bro. You're Bruce's kid you've got to have some game!" Dick teased back before a stray batarang was lobbed towards him.

"I've got it handled." Damian retorted angrily.

"Fine. fine. But blame Tim cuz he's the one who snitched on the rooftop hookups." Dick cooed before ducking out of the room to avoid further assault. Another screech filled the cave.

A few nights later, you were perched on the rooftop once again. This time you didn't have nearly enough work, but were hoping a certain distraction would stick around this time.

And he did.

"Hey" his voice was soft, and your head rose from your book to smile into the shadows.

"Hi! Whatcha got?" you noticed the silhouette was holding something.

"Come see." you could hear his chest rumbling. You felt like you were floating towards the thick railing of the rooftop.

And there he was again. Holding a sketchpad.

"You brought drawings!" you cooed, grinning as he inched closer, leather gloves flipping pages as you drank in the beautiful sketches, watercolours, and poems that filled the pages.

"What do you think?" he whispered, you swore warmth was vibrating off of him, just a few inches away from each other.

"They're beautiful" you quietly replied. He flipped another page, and it was a pencil sketch of you half asleep in your studies, on the rooftop. "From the other night!" you giggled, delicately tracing the sketch with your pinky. Robin drew a sharp breath, loud enough that your eyes were drawn up to his domino mask.

"I've got one more sketch to show you. But, I fear you won't like it." his head dropped slightly, his gloved hand toying with the bottom of the paper, as if debating whether or not to flip it.

"I'll be okay! Promise." you nudged his shoulder, holding up your pinky, a true promise, and a dangerous solution to the question making you dizzy standing next to him.

He shook his head, "look first, promise after" to which you nodded, dropping your hand and eyes to the paper.

As the page turned, you couldn't help but gasp. On the last page of the sketchbook, in the most intricate detail, were two hands. Pinky's locked.

"Take your glove off." you shot your gaze back to the hero.

"Wait." he took a step back.

You took one forward, reaching for the glove yourself.

Back again. "Y/N, wait." you froze at your name on his tongue.

"You and I both know what's under my glove, but I'm giving you an out. I've sat here for months thinking about doing this, wanting to do this. But, you deserve someone who doesn't throw their life away, who can be there for you, someone who isn't... isn't me" he gestured to his outfit, stocked with weapons.

"Who can be there for me? You've protected me more than anyone else in my life. Someone who deserves me? I'm not a trophy, I'm, I'm your soulmate."

"I know, but-" he began but you weren't finished:

"All I deserve, is someone who can love me. Can you do that?" you closed the distance, and he didn't back away.

"It's all I've ever done." he whispered. Delicately, you reached for his hand. He let you draw it from his side, holding desperately still as you peeled the glove from his left hand. And there, in the same pattern as yours, stood his mark.

"You promise?" you gave a small smile, holding up your pinky for the final time.

"Always." he closed the distance, locking your hands together as a warmth like you'd never felt spread through your hand, dancing up your arm, and bursting in your chest.

"Oh my god do you feel that?" you asked breathlessly, your right hand touching your chest.

He nodded, letting your hands drop as his right hand tilted your chin up, your eyes once again meeting a mask.

"I never thought I'd ever do this" his voice was soft, drinking in your closeness to him.

"I would've found you" you said with a grin, you had always had the sixth sense that Robin's visits to your study sessions were more than patrol.

He scoffed, "yeah my brother was gonna make sure of it."

"Your brother?" you dug deeper, fighting the itch to reach up for the mask he wore, your heart begging to see his eyes.

You felt him tug his pinky from yours, "I suppose a promise is a promise." he reached up for you, pulling the mask from his face as familiar green eyes met yours.

"Oh. My god." your jaw dropped, fitting the puzzle together.

"I guess the universe decided I was taking too long and put Richard Grayson on job. I must apologize for the coffee shop, I wasn't expecting to see my Gothamite soulmate seated across from my brother, in Bludhaven. " he sighed, eyes twinkling. You laughed in agreement.

"Quite the wingman" you mused.

Damian nodded, closing the distance as he said "don't ever tell him, but I'm thinking he was right all along" before pressing his lips to yours.

Weeks later you were far less sleep deprived, still loving your job in Bludhaven. Especially because a certain student was always waiting to pick you up for the ride home.

"Hi Dames!" you strolled up to your now boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he locked your pinky in his, the two of you strolling towards the cafe that has become your shared favorite place. Settling down in a booth, you both fell into routine: sketching and studying while enjoying the other's presence.

A crazy few weeks, a huge change to your life, but a good one nonetheless. You had to hand it to-

"I knew you lovebirds would be here!" The bell on the cafe door rang, drawing you and Damian out of your focus. Damian rolled his eyes with a scoff and you gave Dick a wave.

Dick was stroll strutting around, "call me cupid the way I matched you two up!" he crooned.

Damian dryly replied, "Richard we are quite literally soulmates." but the oaf wasn't listening, too busy pretending to shoot you both with an invisible bow "cupid style".

You smiled to yourself, if only Dick knew how grateful you and Damian were to have each other... thank to him.

~~~

A/N: pure fluff for your timeline <3 hope you enjoyed!

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reiderwriter · 9 days

Text

Four In Some Velvet Morning

Chapter Two of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Civility in the office is equal to pettiness in all things, but when you help Spencer out in a sticky situation, it's all your mind can think about well into the early hours in the morning.

Warnings: Uncomfortable situation with a student (non-reciprocated), suggestive touching, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom! Spencer.

A/N: The second part is finally here!! I hope you enjoy the various office shenanigans of Spencer and our reader. Based on the results of our last chapter, I've made a taglist, which you can access through the link below! Have fun reading, and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist~♡

You loved Mondays, or you did love Mondays when they meant only a single teaching hour and a free office to catch up on however much work you'd put off the week before.

But, like everything in your life now, Mondays were ruined by Doctor Spencer Reid.

When you and your coffee arrived at 8:45 on Monday morning, he was right there. You heaved out a sigh of frustration, and he didn't respond, so you sank into an hours worth of annoyed sighs and silence.

“Hmmph,” you huffed, standing from your desk and making your bookshelves. Still ordered alphabetically, and topically, you tried your best to look for the reference guide you'd been annotating all semester. But with no helpful guide to which topics it was that he'd used, you found yourself turning around to address your silent, unwanted companion.

“Spencer, my reference book, where is it?”

You stared blankly at him for a few minutes as you watched him trace a finger down the page he was reading. Delicately, he turned the page and resumed reading the next one, stroking the page like it was a lover in a tender moment, his fingers trailing down to offer his intimacy.

“Spencer?” You said again, and he again ignored you.

“Spencer, there's no way you're reading that fast, cut the crap and answer my question.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute. Thus, I am busy. And weren't you ignoring me?” You took a deep breath and counted to ten in your head before replying.

“I thought we were being civil, Spencer.”

“I am being civil. I'm very civil. Are you being civil, Ms. Y/N?”

“Doctor,” you spat out. “I may have only one to your three, but I did work hard for it.”

He stopped reading and looked up at you, noting the angry look on your face. Standing up quickly, he checked his watch, grabbed his bag and jacket, making sure to carefully slide the book he was molesting into his bag, and walked straight for the door.

“Spencer!” You said indignantly, and he turned back to you with a sarcastic smile, pulling the book you were searching for off the bookcase and throwing it in your direction, before stalking out of the room.

“Jackass!” You shouted behind him as he sent a wave over his shoulder.

Civility. Well, if that was his idea of civility, you could be just as civil. And you'd start by taking all of the books off of the bookshelves once again.

When three hours had elapsed and Spencer had concluded the day's work, he was disappointed to find the office empty. He didn't dwell on the feeling for long, though, as he flipped the light switch to utter chaos.

You'd pretty much gutted the entire shelf, leaving pretty piles stacked all across his desk, chair, and the floor surrounding it, making it near impossible to make his way to his desk without moving something.

The shelves weren't totally empty, though. You'd left roughly thirty books on the centre shelf, held in place by paper weights he recognised as his own acting as bookends.

A post-it was stuck to the first book.

“Ignore this,” you'd written, a lipstick kiss pressed into the paper as your only form of signature. For plausible deniability, of course. You'd never sign your name to a crime.

He sighed and lifted a hand to start taking some books down when he spotted it.

“D…o…n….t…,” he would've gotten further but for the grin spreading across his face as he read the first letter on each book spine. You'd spelt out five words, and he felt a vague sense of satisfaction knowing you'd spent so much time just trying to mess with him.

“DONT TOUCH MY SHIT, JACKASS,” you'd written. But he was absolutely going to touch your shit.

Much to his chagrin, you didn't return to the office that day, too busy with other duties to need to go back. You also wanted to give him a wide berth, hoping that he'd have time to simmer instead of immediately retaliate for all the shit you'd pulled that morning.

Which was why Spencer found himself at work at 6 a.m., getting an early start so he could see your reaction to his, honestly quite tame reply.

You'd acted like a toddler throwing toys out of your pram for no reason. And while he wasn't exactly acting mature himself, he could at least liken himself to a young child throwing the toys back in frustration.

Everything about sharing this office with you was going to be frustrating.

He opened his book again - War and Peace - and began reading through it as he waited for the sun to rise and you to arrive with it.

It was well worth it to catch the look on your face.

“Jackass,” you muttered under your breath as you walked in, coffees and pastries in hand.

He'd put the majority of the books back on the shelf in his order and system. But he'd also left out a large pile of books, blocking the narrow passage between your desk and the wall. It was taller than you and hardly stable, and since you did not want to get concussed on a Tuesday morning, there was no other route to your desk but squeezing behind his.

You huffed out a sigh, dropping what you'd hoped would be truce coffee and breakfast on his desk before standing to push past him. He blocked your way with his arm as he finished up reading a chapter.

“Password?” He asked, not looking up from his desk.

“Very funny, let me pass.”

“Incorrect,” he smiled, nodding towards the shelf where you'd left yesterday's message.

“Seriously?” You asked. His answering look supplied the answer you needed - try me.

“Don't touch my shit, jackass,” you said in a sarcastic tone, trying once again to push past. His damn arm was still too solid, and he pushed you back once again.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, but that was yesterday's password. You'll have to try again.”

Squinting down at him in confusion, you did your best not to dump his coffee over the top of his head as he nodded to the shelf again.

Your writing was still there, but one shelf down there was a new message.

“BUT… ILO…I LOVE… TOU-” You froze, your entire body going hot as you walked back over to him. He was taking a sip of his coffee, as you desperately avoided eye contact. You knew you were attractive, but you honestly didn't think that Spencer would be interested in you like that. And flirting like this, so out of the blue?

Something had to be wrong with him.

“Password?” He asked, taking another sip.

“B-But I love touching you,” you stammered out, cheeks aflame.

He somehow coughed and snorted at the same time, shooting out of his chair with wide eyes.

“More-” he coughed. “That's not… There's more.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you ran back over to the shelves, reading to what was actually the end of the message.

“But I love touching your shit,” you mumbled, and he didn't bother even raising a hand this time. He let you pass, and you sat in tense silence for the rest of the morning.

You got over the awkwardness soon, though, and began using the shelves to torture each other between classes.

You'd once replaced all three textbooks for his class with Russian language versions, back firing spectacularly as he smiled and began reading from them anyway.

He'd started putting important texts on the very top shelf and hiding the only step on the floor in some classroom or the other. Though he too had quit that when other members of staff grew frustrated at the steps disappearance.

You both kept up with the book messages.

“YOU'RE… TOO…LOUD”

“I DIDNT… DO…ANYTHING”

“YOU BREATHED”

“BOO HOO”

“COFFEE…PLEASE”

“IM NOT…YOUR…ASSISTANT”

“WITH THREE… SUGARS”

“I HOPE…. DIABETES… GETS YOU”

“SO…MATURE”

If you were being honest with yourself, you'd probably have realized that you were having a lot of fun hating Spencer Reid. Which made him a little bit harder to hate.

You wished he'd have been more mature about the whole thing, really, so you could despise him without laughing at his audacity every five minutes.

Thursday was the worst day for both of you. Thankfully, he'd taken your advice and scheduled his office hours around your classes.

What he hadn't taken into account was that on Thursdays, you had several classes on different disciplines and for different degree levels, meaning a truck load of resources you had to either cart around with you all day (impossible) or you'd have to drop into your office regularly to pick up your things.

You'd ended up in the same queue as the myriad of undergrads that were taking his course or just auditing and wanted to pick his brain on his off hours, and it was hell each time.

“God, isn't he just so fine. An 18-year age gap isn't noticeable, right?” One girl whispered to her friend as you turned the corner, books in hand, ready to use them as defence weapons should the need arise. The need to laugh and yell it was too much had you biting your tongue quickly. The man was 10 years older than even you, and even you had to pause at the age difference. These girls were practically children.

“And his hair? I just want to tangle my hair in it and pull him down to my-”

“Girls! Please remember this is a hallway, and your professors are still trying to get some work done.”

To their credit, the two first years did turn crimson in shame, sending each other panicked and dirty looks as they communicated their shared horror.

You stepped up to the small hall window at your office and peeked through the blinds.

Another student was inside with Spencer, and the panicked look on his face meant that his conversation was probably going similarly.

The students in the hall whispered and glanced at you every few seconds, and if you weren't in the biggest rush of your professional career, you'd take the time to ask them if you had something on your face.

Instead, you just tried to knock on the glass and hope Spencer would notice your plea for access.

When Spencer noticed you at the window, his eyes locked with yours, his mouth forming a simple plea as the undergrad inched closer to him.

“Help,” he mouthed.

You shrugged in reply, wondering what would possibly be so bad that he'd need your help of all things.

It was then that you noticed the undergrad had reached out a hand to play with the buttons of his jacket, stroking her hand along his chest as he cringed backwards.

You watched him take her hands off him, but she was tenacious, or just a downright creep, and she grabbed his thigh this time, pressing her chest forward. You couldn't see it yourself, but you knew from his reaction and instantly turned head that she was dangerously close to flashing him.

Or she was just doing it.

His eyes pleaded for help again, and you barged into the room with a large cough.

“Doctor Reid, if I could have a moment of your time? It's urgent.”

You dumped the books on your desk, and he jumped up to greet you, stepping out of the young students' grasp and almost shielding himself behind where you stood.

“Of course, yes, Y/N. It is urgent, so I'm sure the students will... be understanding."

He turned back to the student and gestured helpfully to show her the door, but her angry gaze was stuck on yours.

“Old ass skank,” you heard her whisper under her breath. From the hand on your arm and the furrowing of his brow you knew Spencer had as well.

“I'm sorry, what was that, Miss….?”

“Hmm? I'm sure I didn't say anything, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“You-” Spencer began but you silenced him with a hand on his chest.

Her gaze flicked to it, and she grew redder in the face, as if she were truly angry at this development. Interesting.

“Spencer,” you span around, totally ignoring the student now, wrapping your arms up and around his neck. He blinked in confusion once and then twice and hesitated, but let his hands land on your waist.

“It really is so urgent that we speak. Alone. I wouldn't want your precious students hearing anything I have to say to you.” You leaned in closer for the last words, letting your voice flow like honey, neatly seductive as you did your best to remind the student of her place.

Which was as far from a professor's bed as possible.

“She's just leaving, Y/N,” he whispered, equally as breathy as you, if not more. He didn't bother a glance over your shoulder to check, though, keeping his eyes on you as if you were a tiger preparing to pounce on him at any second.

The student grabbed her things and huffed out the door. As soon as the thing was shut, you pulled the blinds totally shut and detangled yourself from Spencer completely, giving yourself a wide berth after bringing yourself so close.

You hadn't realized how long and pretty his eyelashes were until you forced yourself to look at him, how nice his eyes were. The image of them burned into your brain - jealousy, probably. Men always had the best natural eyelashes. It was incredibly unfair.

“What the fuck was that?” You whispered, trying to contain your laugh as you knew the walls here were anything but soundproof.

“Shh,” he hissed, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the remaining undergrads outside start talking. They obviously hadn't got the memo.

“Is this an official FBI strategy?” You teased.

“Shut up, would you? They're talking about us.”

You found yourself all of a sudden pressed against the door next to him, trying to listen in on the conversation outside.

“So it's true? He's really screwing her?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, both from shock and to stop the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest from jumping out. The girl sounded distraught. She sounded absolutely heartbroken. "The coffees every morning were suspicious, and they're always in the office so wrapped up with each other, but I didn't think they were seriously screwing."

“No wonder she was giving us dirty looks earlier,” the other girl whispered back.

“I heard he got her the job here. Pulled some strings, you know. And then, when it didn't look so suspicious, he started and asked for the shared office.”

“Gross! Total nepo hire!”

“No, Tiff, Nepo is when your parents get you the job. What she's doing is just called being a whore.”

Your mouth grew dry, and you pushed back off the wall, suddenly uninterested in anything else the girls had to say.

“Y/N…” Spencer took a sympathetic step your way, offering you an awkward smile as you started busying yourself organizing books.

“Nothing I haven't heard before, Spencer, don't bother,” you said, throwing some papers into your briefcase and keeping your hands moving.

“Though I will say they're getting more creative with their back stories since I have been working here half a year longer than you.”

He watched you work around the office, picking up items and tidying them away as you made a line of tidiness through the chaos of your desk.

“Do you think they all think that?” You asked, curiosity somehow piqued.

“That I got you the job?”

“That we’re screwing,” you said, finally turning to face him.

But the movement was a mistake - you hadn't heard him step closer, so as you turned his face was directly in front of yours, his nose practically touching your own as he looked down at you. It was enough so that the sharp intake of breath you took smelt like him, like he'd wrapped himself around your body and kept you there.

“Do you think they think we're screwing?” He asked, meaning to move away, or at least give you the space for you to do so.

“It doesn't matter to me what other people think,” you smiled up at him. “Because I wouldn't touch you with a tensed foot pole.”

You're thinking about the comment well into the evening, right until the moment your head hits the pillow.

You're thinking about the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you said those words, how he stepped closer and closer until you were backed up against the door.

“You were fine touching me earlier, Y/N. What is it now that makes it unappealing?” He whispered into your ear.

A hand came to your waist as your breath hitched.

“Is it the goosebumps I leave on your skin?” His hand pressed harder as it rose up to your chest. You gasped as he took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it.

“Is it the way your heart beats uncomfortably hard when I'm close?”

His hand dropped again, falling down the plains of your stomach until he was stroking along the top of your pants, begging for entry.

“Or is it the way I make your cunt wet? It must be so hard pretending to hate me when you want my fingers stuffed inside of you.”

You gasped, but your tongue suddenly didn't work, as he slipped past your pants and his fingers were suddenly on your underwear, grinding the pads of his fingers against your slick pussy.

“You dont have to answer, I think I can tell just from feeling this. Shit, Y/N, I could probably slip into you right now with no resistance,” his fingers pushed inside of you as you gripped his arm for support. It was stronger than you expected, rigid as he tensed his arm.

You let him use your body, aware of your soft sighs and moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands were inside you, then they pulled out, and somewhere in between his fingers and his cock filling you, you'd been pressed against the bookshelf, facing it and grabbing at the shelves for stability as he made good on his promise and pushed right into you without a care in the world.

“Spenc-Spencer, the books-”

“You know the books aren't a problem, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear as he pumped deep inside of you.

But the books were a problem, and they fell to the floor with each rough thrust, vibrating as they landed.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buz-

Your eyes shot open the next day, and you jolted out of your slumber, a pillow between your legs as you tried to find your release squirming and humping against it. You reached out for your vibration phone alarm, switching it off quickly to avoid the memory of those falling books from your fast fading dream.

Spencer hadn't touched you in that office. He'd taken your comment at face value and let you leave for your class, but it had stuck in your head.

You'd spent the entire night thinking about his hands on you, and you were entirely uncomfortable with the conclusion you were drawing.

Because now, you supposed, you'd quite enjoy the idea of Spencer Reid touching you wherever he damn well pleased.

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid series #dom spencer reid

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denpa-dere · 8 months

Text

house arrest 1

afab!mc x mammon

description: NSFW, very fluffy, you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower? For Mammon, less than 24 hours.

warnings: Capital B breeding kink with talks of impregnation, afab reader with she/her pronouns, face sitting, dub con if you squint due to a misunderstanding. Mammon is a love sick fool for you.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) ||

If there was anyone you could count on, it was Mammon.

Mammon, who was your first man.

Mammon, who was your partner in crime.

Mammon, who was practically crawling up the wall with need to be with you right now.

He pressed a pillow over his face and groaned into it. This was stupid. He felt stupid. You made him feel stupid. This morning, chaos swept through their home as soon as you rounded the corner. At first, you hadn’t noticed heads snapping one-by-one in your direction as you made your way to your usual spot at the table, serving yourself coffee whilst a dawning realization crept in amongst himself and his brothers.

When the atmosphere felt sufficiently suffocating, you looked up to find seven pairs of eyes boring holes into your skull. Mammon had wanted to scoop you up then and there, to hide you away in the safety of his room where you both could be alone he alone could protect you.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. His knuckles ached from the hole he had punched through the dining room wall in the ensuing scuffle. He didn't want to think about it. Lucifer had already let everyone off easy, seemingly too concerned with how to tactfully explain your absence to Lord Diavolo to string anyone up for fighting. Besides, it's not like Mammon was actually angry with anyone. Things just got out of hand.

He just didn't like how they were looking at you. That's all.

Only he was allowed to look at you like that.

Mammon chucked his pillow at the floor, but it didn't satisfy the irritation welling up in his gut. Every nerve in his body felt like it was screaming to be closer to you. He wondered if you could feel it, too. Surely, your bond with The Great Mammon was strong enough that you could sense his distress, right? You wanted him too, right? That's why you let this happen?

It's not like there'd be any harm in checking on you. You were his responsibility, after all. You were his human! He'd be quick about it, he reasoned. One quick trip to make sure no one was bothering you and he'd be back before Lucifer even noticed he was missing.

By the time he finished that thought, Mammon was already half way down the hall.

___

You jumped when you heard rapping at your door. It wasn't like anyone in this house to knock.

"Human, it's me," Mammon hissed.

You cracked your bedroom door, poking your head out to briefly scan the hallway for interlopers.

"Mamms, what are you doing here?" You asked in a harsh whisper and yanked him by the hand into your room, "Hurry before someone sees you!"

Mammon stumbled. Normally, he might have snapped at you for acting like you could push him around, but it was difficult to form words when he felt like he had been plunged headfirst into a pool of your scent. He had secretly always liked your smell, soft and sweet and indescribably you. It had taken on a headier shade, one that sank into his brain like an incense. There was something else, too. His stomach churned- Lucifer had been here, recently.

Of course he had. So, why did that piss him off?

"Mammon, you alright?" You called to him, louder this time. You looked so fragile, he thought, arms wrapped around yourself protectively. Surrounded by demons itching to take you apart piece by piece, right down to your pretty little soul, and you were asking if he was okay?

No, he wasn't okay. He waved you off dismissively, anyway. Mammon stalked off over to your bed to create some distance. He took a seat at the edge and began to pick at a loose thread on your comforter.

"I should be asking you that," He mumbled, face heating up. You began to close the gap between you two, arms still folded over your chest. The closer you stood, the quicker his resolve for an altruistic alibi crumbled, until you were right in front of him, cupping his face in your hands in that way that shot electric currents down his spine and out through his toes. The same way you did back when you kissed him for the first time, setting him on this confusing track in the first place.

"It's just me, Mamms," You soothed, brushing your thumb over his cheek. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the swell of your stomach. The second-born grumbled something unintelligible and hoped you understood anyway.

A part of him foolishly hoped that visiting you would be enough to quell the terrible magnetic pull you had on him. Now, face pressed into the warm softness of your body, Mammon could admit he'd maybe let his greed lead him astray, again.

His head felt cloudy. He nuzzled into your belly, nose pushing up the bottom of your shirt, and stared up at you with honey-blue eyes. You were so pretty, he thought, his pretty little human who waited so patiently for her man to come find her in her time of need.

He wasn't thinking straight, letting his hands drift up and down your sides. It felt natural to hold you like this, to leave trails of goosebumps along your skin. A sensitive spot under your ribs drew a small whine from your throat and Mammon exhaled sharply. Don’t you know what noises like that do to him?

He tugged and you fell into his lap with a yelp. He was on you in an instant, nipping along your neck, hands up your shirt, nails scratching lightly down your back. Mammon rocked his hips against you, wanting you to feel just how hard you made him.

You sighed his name at the friction. The Avatar of Greed deigned not to answer, choosing to recline back against the headboard with you on top of him.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea-” You weren’t given a chance to finish your concern.

He pulled at your shirt roughly, taking your bra off with it. He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them halfway down your thighs, pausing briefly to admire the wet patch spreading on your panties. Were you already so worked up for him?

Mammon grabbed your hand, guiding it to the erection tenting in his pants. He moaned sweetly for you when your fingers grazed him. Please don’t stop now. You mercifully did not stop, instead deftly working to undo his fly and maneuver his bottoms off his hips. His heavy cock fell against his stomach, twitching and aching for attention.

"C'mere, c'mere," He ushered you forward, gently guiding you, adjusting until you hovered over his face. He felt like he was losing his mind having you so close and couldn't resist placing a kiss on your pussy over your panties, groaning into the damp fabric.

You gasped, reaching for the headboard to steady yourself. Mammon crooked a finger into your underwear, pulling them to the side for better access. When you felt his hot breath ghost over your skin, you were already dripping. When he brought his lips to yours, you could have cried. He eased your weight onto him, drunk on your taste.

"F-fuck, Mammon," You mewled. The hold he had on you rendered you powerless to do much more than roll your hips against his mouth. Each pass of his tongue through your folds teased something animalistic in him that at the best of times he'd be hopeless to describe. But he knew he needed you, and even this was beginning to not feel like enough. Determined to send you over the edge, the demon sucked on your clit and savored how you cried for him.

That animalistic something in Mammon snapped like a rubberband. He couldn't wait anymore. Your body was begging to be bred and he was going to be the one to take care of you. You were putty in his hands when he moved to lay your back flat against the mattress. Wanting nothing between you, he quickly shrugged off his shirt, then fell forward to meet you in a needy kiss.

A brief moment of lucidity flickered behind Mammon's eyes when you parted. Fuck, he loved you. He couldn't always say it, but he wanted everyone to know it.

So, what could be more undeniable, he wondered, rubbing his cock against you, gathering the slick of your cunt, than making you swell with his child? A low growl rumbled in his chest when he pushed into you. You clung to him and he felt his heart burst.

" 'll fuck you as many times as it takes," He slurred in your ear, "Fill you up again and again until…" Each word of his muddled thoughts was emphasized by a sharp snap of his hips against yours. He didn't understand why you had opted to choose him as your mate now, like this, but he was deliriously happy to give you what you wanted. As long as you kept looking at him like this, holding him like this, loving him like this, he'd give you anything.

You writhed beneath him, one hand buried in his snowy hair, the other stroking his back, toying with his wings that fluttered with a mind of their own. This was the first time you had gone this far with him, but you could tell by how he pulsed and throbbed inside of you that he wasn't going to last.

"So good for me, treasure, you feel so good," Once he started babbling, Mammon found that he couldn't stop. His voice was low and intense in your ear, "Gonna' cum- feel so fucking good. Fuck, baby, please, I'm gonna cum, please, please-"

Your velvety walls fluttered around him, causing his breath to hitch. He kissed you again urgently, tongue sliding against yours as he painted your insides white. He ground his hips against you, pushing his seed in deeper in the hopes it would stick. Mammon slowed, then parted from your kiss, a lewd string of saliva connecting you.

The door clicked open.

___

"Your shibari needs work."

Lucifer refused to look at you, tying off the ropes binding Mammon to the ceiling.

"If you touch these ropes, you'll be who I practice on next," The first-born seethed.

"Look on the bright side," You shrugged, "Only 5 more days to go."

"LEAVE."

#obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

everybody wants him, that was my crime

words: 2.1k

warnings: bullying, slut shaming

kinda based on the song slut! by taylor swift

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

it’s your first night out as a couple, deciding finally to make an appearance together at a party after dating in secret for three months, on your insistence. rafe cameron has a reputation, and you didn’t want to go down as one of his flings, but he showed you how serious he was, all leading up to tonight.

“i don’t know why i’m nervous.” you giggle, hand firmly in rafes as he drives you towards the party in his truck. you sit in your passenger seat, now decked out just for you. the glove box has shifted from random things rafe threw in there to your personal stash of lip balms and tampons, along with whatever else you could need while in rafes vehicle.

“that’s so cute baby.” rafe smiles at you, slowing the car to a stop at a red light before leaning over the center console and pressing a kiss to your lips. you were unlike rafe had ever dated before, shy and quiet at first but blossomed in private. “but no need to be nervous, i’m gonna be right by your side the whole time.” “i wonder if my girls will be mad i didn’t tell them.” you mumble, squeezing rafes hand to comfort yourself, remind you he’s right there. you told all of your friends that you were in a relationship, just didn’t specify who.

“if they are mad, then they aren’t very good friends, are they?” rafe questions, and you just give a small nod. he may be right, but that wouldn’t make losing your friends hurt any less.

you finally arrive to the party, rafe rounding the hood of the truck to open the door for you. you smile at him as you get out, remembering the reason why you’re going through this in the first place. you love rafe, you love the way he treats you, and you want to be done hiding.

“lets go, baby.” rafe wraps an arm around your shoulders, heading into the house. you instantly notice the stares, but rafe is so confident and sure of himself, keeping his head held high as he treks through the house, looking for familiar faces.

“hey, top.” rafe lets go of you for a moment to clap hands with his friend before immediately returning to touching you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “you know, y/n?” he questions, and topper nods with a small smile. you’ve run into each other a few times, it is a small island afterall.

“hi, topper! its good to see you again.” you say, a sweet smile on your face.

“wait-” topper glances at rafes arm around your waist. “are you the girl rafe has been seeing?”

you laugh at toppers stunned expression and give him a nod.

“thats-thats great. i didn’t think you’d go for someone like rafe but you seem like a good couple.” topper turns his attention to rafe. “congrats, man.”

rafe gives a nod and smile as his thanks, moving to press a kiss to your forehead. he may claim to not care about topper or his approval, but rafe wouldn’t befriend someone if they truly had no impact on him.

“oh my god, theres liv!” you squeal, waving across the party to her as shes sat on a couch, surrounded by a few other friends that you don’t know as well. “i’ll be right back, rafey.” you turn to him, hesitating for a moment before remembering you’re no longer hiding and press a kiss firmly to his lips.

you rush over to liv, who is looking at you with an unreadable look on her face. “hey liv!” you plop down next to her with a smile.

“did you just kiss rafe cameron?” she questions. “i thought you had a secret boyfriend?” “yeah.” you giggle, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “he is my secret boyfriend. we’ve been together three months now. almost four.” the group of girls fall silent, and you wonder if you’ve said something wrong as you look at all their faces.

“you know that i have a crush on him.” liv finally responds.

“yeah, me too.” one of the other girls responds, one that you’re not even as close to.

“well-” you laugh, unable to help yourself at the awkwardness of it all, hoping its just some joke. “we all had crushes on him but rafe and i are dating now so-” you shrug, unable to come up with any better words. “i don’t know.”

“its just a little rude that you went behind all of our backs. and then kept it a secret?” another girl butts in.

“it’s not like that.” you shake your head, trying to explain, but there’s already a chorus of agreements.

“we really don’t care what it’s like, y/n.” liv sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “this is a total breach of girl code.” “i didnt know yall would feel that way.” you say honestly, feeling tears well up in your eyes. you stand up, not going to let this go any further, especially because you can tell the girls are drunk from the white claws and empty glasses sitting on the table.

you are just about to find rafe when you hear liv say behind you, “what does he even see in her?” coming from your closest friend, it stings like a knife straight through the heart.

the tears begin to fall as you look for rafe, spotting him still talking to topper. when he sees you in tears, he drops whatever drink he’s holding and runs to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you bury your face in his shoulder, sobs racking over your body.

rafe gives the girls a glare, knowing they must have done something, but you’re his priority as he picks you up, beginning to carry you inside as you wrap your legs around him. you continue to cry into rafes shirt, wetting it with your tears until you get sat down on a bed, in what you’re guessing is a guest bedroom.

“baby girl, whats wrong?” rafe asks with a pout on his face, hating to see you upset. he cups your cheeks, bringing you in for a kiss, not even caring that your cheeks are still stained with tears or that you’re sniffling.

“the girls are all pissed at me. said i broke girl code because they had a crush on you. well, boo hoo because i had a crush on you too!” you complain, making rafe laugh softly, kneeling down between your legs.

“i’m so sorry.” rafe says earnestly, knowing what its like to lose friends, and knowing you of all people don’t deserve it, the sweetest girl he’s ever met.

“i just know that if it was any of them in my shoes, i would be so supportive.” you sigh. maybe not literally with the knowledge that you have now of how perfect you and rafe are for each other, but if they got with a guy you mutually had a crush on, you would be beyond happy for your friend, and you’re not sure why you aren’t receiving the same treatment.

“we’re gonna find you some better friends, baby. you don’t need jealous pricks in your life.” rafe squeezes your thighs, and you give a little nod.

“now i feel silly for crying.” you wipe your palms against your cheeks, knowing your makeup is ruined.

“you’re allowed to be upset. lets get you cleaned up then we will go have a good time at the party, yeah? just me and you. we can dance a little and then go home and cuddle all night.” rafe offers.

you give a little nod before leaning forward and pressing your lips against rafes. “thank you.” you say. “i love you.” “i love you too.” rafe says, standing up and giving you a hand up, leading you into the attached bathroom to wash your face off. you take a deep breathe before nodding to rafe, indicating you’re ready to face the mess again.

“always by your side.” rafe says as a reminder.

“liv just messaged me.” you frown, opening up the snapchat, rafe moving to peer over your shoulder.

hey. i’m sorry about everything that happened at the party last week. all of us were drunk. can we meet up to talk?

you’re not sure what to make of the message. your initial reaction is to say yes of course, but you were so hurt, and you’re not sure if you can go through that again.

“what are you thinking baby?” rafe asks, stroking his hand over your arm absentmindedly, but it still brings you comfort.

“i don’t know, to be honest.” you sigh, setting your phone down on your lap, leaving the screen open to the message. “part of me wants to meet up with her, but she was just so nasty. it’s not like being drunk is a good excuse.” “if you want, you could meet up with her and i can be there with you.” rafe offers, knowing how much his presence means to you.

“maybe we will get coffee and you can wait in the car. that way if anything happens…” you trail off.

“sounds perfect.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek as you pick up the phone, typing back a message to liv.

it feels like the days rush past and before you know it its the day you planned to meet up. you’ve been pushing the nerves away, but they are back in full force as you’re getting ready.

“it’s not too late to skip out.” rafe says, brushing your hair as you apply some simple makeup. he wants you to have closure with your friend, but he also can’t stand to see you in despair.

“no, i want to go.” you say honestly. you’ve gotten increasingly hopeful, maybe foolishly so, that you can repair your friendship. since you and rafe went public, the only friends you’ve been hanging out with is rafes, and not that you mind, topper turned out to be a lot friendlier of a guy than you originally expected, and kelce wasn’t so bad either.

“alright, lets go then baby.” rafe says. he holds your hand the entire car ride there, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. you put all your focus on that gentle feeling instead of letting your mind wander through all the bad things that could happen.

“just text or call me if you need anything.” rafe says, dropping you off right outside the front of the cafe.

“thank you, i love you.” you give rafe a kiss before getting out, spotting liv right as you enter, sitting in a booth near the back.

“hey liv.” you smile slightly, sliding onto the seat across from her.

“y/n.” liv says with a smile that looks forced.

you stay silent, waiting for the apology to come. you certainly aren’t going to be the one to initiate it.

“how is rafe?” she asks.

“he’s amazing.” you say simply, not wanting to get into the details of your relationship without some further conversation.

“so you’re just hooking up?” she questions, an eyebrow raising.

you let out a startled laugh. truth is, you wouldn’t let rafe touch you intimately until you were dating for two months already. “no, we are in a relationship. he is my boyfriend.” “oh…” liv trails off. “because i heard some rumors… but nevermind.”

“what rumors?” you question bluntly, not wanting to tiptoe around the subject.

“that rafe only dated you because you put out so quickly. everyone is calling you supreme slut for bagging him.” “they’re what?!” you shout, not caring that the other customers in the cafe turn to look at you.

“relax, slut is like totally reclaimed now.” liv says, as if she didn’t just say something incredibly insulting.

“well.” you stand up, staring down at liv. “i don’t really care what anyone else has to say. you are all clearly jealous that i’m the one rafe is with. so call me a slut, say i’m not worthy, i don’t give a shit because you know what?” you bend down, filled with a sudden surge of confidence. “i am the one who gets him at the end of the day. not. you.”

you turn abruptly, strutting out of the restaurant. you get into the passenger side of rafes car, a satisfied smirk on your face.

“how did it go?” rafe asks cautiously, unable to read the look on their face.

“i told her she’s just jealous. it really opened my eyes about all of their true intentions. i don’t care about them anymore. it’s me and you.” you reach over and squeeze rafes hand.

“me and you baby.” he nods in agreement.

#soft rafe because i love soft rafe #yall should know this by now #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fluff

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