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heeliopheelia · 2 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing

a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands.

Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.

“Bro, don’t even-”

Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”

“Hey!”

“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”

You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”

“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”

Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”

PARK JAY

“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”

His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you.

“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”

You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”

Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his.

Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him.

“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”

SIM JAKE

You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.

“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look.

You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.

“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”

Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”

You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”

“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now.

“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”

Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.

You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.

“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”

You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words.

“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”

He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.

KIM SUNOO

“A WHAT?”

Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”

“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.

You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”

“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”

“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl?

“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”

“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.”

YANG JUNGWON

“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”

“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”

There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair.

“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”

You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”

It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt.

“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought.

Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”

You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left.

You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname.

After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face.

“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.

You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”

“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you.

“Sorry but I’m not into incestious relationships.”

“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly.

He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you.

permanent taglist @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt

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vtgbooks · 1 year

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TAROT Cards HEALING WITH THE ANGELS Oracle Cards Vtg TAROT Card Lot TAROT Book

#bluemelodybooks #vintagebook #vintagebooks #bookseller #bookcover #booklover #oldbooks #tarot #tarot book #tarot cards #oracle cards #occult #witching #witching hour #witchcraft #vintage tarot #angels #angel book #angel cards

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physalian · 2 months

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What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!

I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!

Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:

1. No modern means of communication

Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.

With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.

2. The Monster Allegory

Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.

Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.

What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.

3. Magic Systems!

Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?

Then Fantasy is for you!

There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.

4. Real-World Politics, who?

Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.

Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”

Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.

5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”

Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?

This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.

6. You are in complete control

But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.

It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.

It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.

7. Even if it has been done before, do it again

You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).

But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.

So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.

And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #fantasy #scifi #writeblr #writing

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

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my angel

part 2 to angel

words: 3.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, reader is a stripper, reader also gets called a bitch and assaulted but its not very graphic or "bad", f receiving oral

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @spear-bearing-bi-witch @ghostlycrystobalove

“there’s my favorite regular.” you smile, plopping down on rafes lap before he even pays. you know that he’s good for it.

“angel.” rafes hands land on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over the bare skin there. security already knows that you consent to his touches.

as promised, rafe has become a regular at your strip club. some days he comes with his friends, who you have learned are named topper and kelce, but it’s usually just him, alone in his regular seat, eyes not drifting from you, ignoring all the other strippers who try to get his attention, especially after seeing how much he tips.

you sometimes take him in back, depending on the day and how long it’s been since he’s last been in. he’s always more needy, willing to pay for more when he’s away for a couple nights, but you stick to your original rule of mouth only.

“lap dance?” you ask, watching rafe pull a bill out of his shirt pocket.

“how about i pay you for a lap dance and you sit here and talk to me instead? just for five minutes, i want to get to know you better.” rafe has been trying to get closer to you every week, and as he spends more time there, you start to let him, but still say no politely every time he asks you out.

“mmm, fine.” you hum, letting yourself relax on his lap, feeling your core press against his thigh. “stick it here.” you pull on the cup of your bra, allowing rafe to slot the folded up bill against your breast. he lets his fingers skim down the soft white fabric, teasing over your nipple briefly before dropping back down to hold onto your hips.

“where are you from?” rafe asks, and you respond with your hometown, about an hour further inland.

he continues to ask you basic questions, like your favorite color, food, and so on. you feel so natural talking back and forth that you forget that you’re even at work, until the stripper right before your set comes on stage, and you know you have to go in back to get ready.

“well, thanks for that chat, rafe.” you stand up, his hands hesitating to leave your body. “i’ll be watching you while i’m on stage.” you give him a wink and walk away, making sure to sway your ass, knowing he’s watching.

you don’t perform solo every night, so it’s a real treat for rafe when you do. you prepare backstage, putting on a few more layers and your favorite accessory, a small white befeathered pair of angel wings, to go along with your stripper name.

when your music starts, you head out onto the stage, dancing slowly to the music, keeping the act up by pretending to be shy and demure as you slowly strip off the layers of clothing that you just put on until you’re in a simple pair of white lingerie.

you twirl around the pole, every time turning to keep your eyes on rafe in the crowd, although you do try to glance at the other men, you just can’t help but be drawn to your most loyal regular.

the song changes to the last one of your set, the one where you will strip off that final layer of clothes. you’ve danced topless, but tonight is your first night going fully nude, and you feel some excitement rise over the nerves at getting to do this for rafe specifically.

you shed your top, covering your nipples with your fingertips while the crowd cheers. you finally raise your hands up, hips still moving to the beat of the song, dollars being thrown onto the stage.

you turn your back to the audience, finally ready to reveal the final part of yourself. you pull your underwear down your legs, keeping your movements as innocent as you can while dancing fully naked.

you meet rafes eyes, a look of lust in them that you hadn’t seen before. you smile, just for him, as you finish your dance before moving off the stage.

you take a deep breath, pulling on your second look of the night, only having to perform one more time in a group later on, but you were just in the back for that. you take a minute to eat some food before heading out onto the floor for lap dances.

you head straight towards rafe, wanting to get his reaction to your final dance, when your wrist is suddenly grabbed by an older man.

“hey!” you shout, tugging your arm away. “no touching.”

you know he knows the rule. everyone gets told it a thousand times before they’re allowed to enter. no touching the dancers without express permission, anywhere on their body.

“sorry, sweets, you just keep going to pretty boy over there.” the man says, and you glance up to see rafe watching the interaction with his jaw locked.

“would you like a dance?” you ask, flicking your eyes back to the man, his entire body reeking of alcohol. it’s one thing you like about rafe, he always orders a glass of whiskey, but he’s never drunk when you dance for him.

the man pulls out a $20 bill, and you snatch it out of his hand more rude than you should for a paying customer, but he put you off by grabbing your wrist, and the $20 gives you a good reason to keep it short, it doesn’t pay for a lot.

you turn around, keeping yourself hovering over the mans lap as you dance half-heartedly, letting your mind drift elsewhere than what you’re currently doing. you eventually lower down so you’re just barely touching him, but when the song ends you pull away.

“you’re not done yet, bitch.” he grabs your hips, pulling you back down as you let out a squeal, losing your footing and falling against him.

rafe is over to you quicker than security is, pulling you off of his lap and into his arms. you turn in his hold as security grabs the man, leading him towards the door as he screams about how much of a bitch you are.

“are you okay?” rafe asks, rubbing your arms, walking you to the outskirts of the room as the final number hits the stage, something you’re supposed to join in the next couple minutes, but you know security already relayed it to your boss what happened.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you shiver, glancing at the door to double check that he is actually gone. “thanks for rescuing me.”

“no problem, angel.” rafe says softly, pulling you into a hug, that you graciously accept, surprised how natural the intimate touch feels, especially considering all of your previous interactions have been sexual.

“i need to get backstage.” you sigh, forcing yourself to step away.

“of course.” rafe squeezes your hand before letting you go.

you complete the final dance of the night, body working on autopilot as you try to forget the sound of the mans voice calling you a bitch. you finish the dance and head backstage, only glancing briefly at rafe as you leave the stage.

you chat idly with the other dancers, but you mostly keep to yourself tonight as you wash your face free of makeup, change out of your lingerie for a comfy sweat set, and to your biggest relief, take off your heels for a pair of crocs.

“bye, girls!” you call, making sure to have counted your money and cleaned up your locker before leaving.

you head out the back door, swinging your car keys in your hand as you head towards your vehicle. you get the feeling of being watched, your step quickening when you hear the one voice you don’t want to.

“hey, bitch!” you don’t turn to look, breaking into a run, but the man, even in his inebriated state is faster than your tired legs, grabbing you and shoving you against your car. you hope security is watching the footage of the parking lot as you leave like they’re supposed to, but even then it will take them a full minute.

“please, let me go!” you shout, trying to force the mans hands off of you.

“hey!” you turn your head to the side, coming face to face with your savior once again as rafe shoves the guy off of you and onto the ground, his head smacking against the pavement, but he stays conscious as rafe shouts at him to never touch you or come back here again.

security runs out as you sink to the ground, dropping your head to your knees as you cry. you can tell just from the scent and feel that it’s rafe who wraps his arms around you.

“shh, you’re okay. i got you.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you wipe away your tears as security escorts him away, bringing him back inside to do who knows what. you’ll let your boss handle that.

“i’m okay.” you whisper, not sure how much you actually mean it as rafe helps you up off the ground.

you stand in silence for a minute, just holding his hand as you calm down.

“thank you for rescuing me. i guess you’re my angel.” you giggle, making rafe smile. “what were you still doing here anyways?” “well…” rafe trails off, looking guilty. “i always stay until i see you get into your car. just to make sure that you’re safe. you really shouldn’t be walking out alone.”

“rafe, oh my god.” you pitch yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. “you really don’t have to do that, that’s so sweet.” “i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, angel.” he squeezes you against him.

“y/n.” you pull away to look rafe in the eye as you tell him. “my name is y/n.”

rafes mouth breaks into a wide grin. “nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

you turn to look at your car before turning back to rafe. “i really don’t want to be alone tonight.” you tell him, hoping he gets the hint, and you can tell from the look in his eye that he understands exactly what you want, lacing your hands together and leading you towards his car.

you keep quiet on the drive, not even sure how long it is, focusing on the music and rafes hand on your thigh to quell the negative thoughts of if it’s a bad idea to go back with someone who you’ve never seen outside of the strip club.

rafe pulls up to a huge house, and you gape for a moment, but you knew he had money, so it’s not too much of a surprise as he heads around the car to open the door for you.

“thanks for letting me stay over.” you say, admiring how beautiful rafe looks in the moonlight.

“of course, y/n.” rafe smiles, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. you kiss back instantly, keeping it sweet but still passionate as you enjoy the moment before rafe pulls away to lead you inside, and up into his bedroom, not wanting to waste any time.

“did you like my dance today?” you ask as rafe sits on the bed. you stand in between his legs, letting his hands run over your hips and thighs.

“i loved it.” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach over your hoodie. “such a pretty pussy.”

he tugs at the zipper, pulling it down and letting it fall from your shoulders, leaving you in a thin tanktop, clearly not wearing any bra. rafe smiles, cupping your breasts. “i may see these every week, but i still am breathless every time i see your body.”

you pull your top off, rafes hands quickly taking the same place without the layer of fabric in between. you moan as his thumbs rub over your nipples.

“fuck, it feels so good.” you moan as rafe leans forward, his lips wrapping around your nipple and giving it a suck. you press your chest into his mouth as his fingers toy with the other nipple, giving you equal stimulation before switching to taste the other one.

rafe pulls away to take his shirt off, and your eyes widen at the muscles revealed. you could tell he was fit, but seeing him shirtless has you in awe.

“take your pants off and get on the bed.” rafe stands when you take a step back to pull your sweatpants and underwear off all at once, no point in hiding it when rafes seen it all before. you lay down on the bed, not sure what position rafe is going to want to fuck you in, all you know is that you want him.

rafe pulls his pants off but leaves his underwear on as he climbs onto the bed. you expect him to continue up and kiss you, but he drops to his stomach in between your legs.

“rafe-” you gasp when he presses kisses to your thighs, trying to get him to stop by closing your legs.

“shh, no.” rafe says gently, pushing your legs back open. “you’ve given me blowjobs with nothing in return, let me eat you out.”

“you paid me in return!” you argue back, feeling your wetness grow at the thought of rafes mouth against your cunt. you’ve never had such an intimate moment with a man before, all of the ones you’ve been with in the past just wanting to use your pussy for their pleasure then leave.

“those were pennies compared to what you deserve. come on baby, let me taste this pretty pussy.” “i’ve never…” you sigh, ashamed to admit this, “i’ve never had someone eat me out before.”

rafe is silent for a moment, and you worry what he’s thinking. “i know i’m a stripper and everything but i’m not super experienced and i’ve just never-” “baby.” rafe says softly, getting you to shut your mouth. “i am only mad that no man has ever done this to you before. you absolutely deserve the pleasure i am about to give you.”

and with that, rafe leans forward, going straight for your clit as he licks broad strokes over the most sensitive part of you, making you see stars from the sudden pleasure he brings you.

“oh my god, yes!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure overwhelms you. rafe drops his mouth lower, tongue lapping against your entrance and greedily tasting your wetness, gathering it all into his mouth.

he swirls his tongue along your folds, touching new parts of you with every movement, keeping his focus on your pleasure as he darts back to your clit to press kisses to it, your back arching off the bed as you cry out.

“you’ve had a hard day, y/n.” rafe says, barely pulling his mouth away from your pussy, letting his words vibrate. “just relax and let me make you feel good.”

you take a deep breath and settle into the bed, bringing your hands to his hair as you push his head back between your spread thighs. rafe juts his tongue out, letting you move him as he licks obsessively over your pussy.

he brings his mouth back to your clit, kissing and licking gently as one of his fingers prods at your entrance, easily being able to slip in due to how wet you are.

rafe moans against your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you. you want to squeal at the movement, but you manage to control yourself to just moans as you feel your high getting closer, never having it come so quickly with a partner before.

“fuck, rafe, i’m close!” you warn, but he doesn’t pull away, doubling down on his efforts until you burst, flooding his mouth as you squirt onto the bed sheets, but it doesn’t phase him as he continues to eat you out as you ride out your orgasm.

he finally pulls his face away from your soaked cunt, wiping his mouth against a dry part of the bed sheets.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t think i was gonna squirt.” you cover your face with your hands.

“y/n.” rafe says gently, draping his body over yours and pulling your hands away from your face. “you have nothing to be embarrassed about. that was the hottest thing ever. look how hard you made me.”

rafe presses against your core, and you moan out from your oversensitive clit being stimulated so soon after an orgasm, wishing the fabric of his underwear wasn’t in the way so rafe could plunge inside of you.

“can i fuck you now or do you need a break?” rafe smirks when you scoff, you need him immediately and you think your body might just explode if he isn’t inside of you soon.

rafe tugs his underwear off, revealing his cock that you’ve had in your mouth so many times, now about to cross the final boundary. rafe grabs a condom he must have tossed onto the bed at some point, rolling it over his cock before getting back into position, hovering over you.

you don’t bother to argue about letting you ride him after he ate you out, knowing rafe is focused on your pleasure right now, not like guys you’ve been with in the past wanting you to ride them and then bust within minutes.

“god, i’ve wanted this so bad since i first laid eyes on you.” rafe mumbles, mostly speaking to himself as his cock presses against your entrance.

you connect your lips in a kiss as he pushes inside, both simultaneously moaning as he sinks deeper into your cunt until he’s completely nestled in your heat.

“you can move.” you whisper after a moment, not needing anymore time to adjust, craving his quick thrusts into you, but while rafe starts to move, he keeps it slow and passionate, rolling his hips against yours in a steady motion.

“heaven.” rafe kisses your forehead, then both your cheeks, before connecting your mouth in a kiss. “your pussy is heaven.”

you blush under the praise, not used to something so intimate, used to sex being impersonal, being seen just as an object.

“god, you have to keep letting me fuck you after this, angel, i’m never gonna get enough.” rafe moans, grinding against you to give your clit some stimulation.

“you can fuck me whenever you want if you-” you gasp at a particularly deep thrust from rafe “move faster.” rafe smiles, hips starting to buck into you with earnest now, his cock pressing so deep that it has you seeing stars.

“fuck, that’s good.” you whine, squirming underneath rafe as he ignores your movements underneath him, focusing on thrusting into you.

rafe grunts as you feel his cock move against your walls, his face twisting in pleasure. you grab his shoulders, needing to feel connected to him.

“this…” you pant, moving your body on the bed to match rafes thrusts, bringing your hips up despite the burn in your stretched thighs. “is the best sex i’ve ever had.” you tell him honestly.

the side of rafes lip quirks up in a cocky smile, bending to press your lips together as he keeps his rhythm. you regret not agreeing to this earlier. you would have fucked rafe the first night he came to the club if you knew he was this good in bed.

“sounds like you should be the one paying me.” rafe jokes, making you slap his shoulder gently, unable to really laugh as he keeps you moaning with his cock touching every part of you, his pelvic hitting your clit with every thrust.

“close.” you tell rafe, feeling your orgasm building up again, hoping rafe is also close because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold back.

“me too, baby.” rafe groans, his cock swelling inside of you. you’re unable to hold back the rush any longer, entire body shaking as rafes cock forces your orgasm from you, again a rush of liquid being expelled as your arms tighten around rafes shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, wanting to feel as much of him as possible.

you barely even notice rafe pulling out and tugging the condom off, rutting against your stomach until he cums, covering your torso.

you breathe deeply as you let go, letting rafe flop to the side to lay on the bed next to you, both recovering from the activity, heartbeat slowly coming back to normal. when you’re able to move your body again, you turn on your side to come face to face with rafe.

“hey.” he smiles gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“hey.” you giggle.

“i knew you wouldn’t regret coming home to me.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your back.

“i made a mess of your bed though.” you feel a flush of embarrassment, looking down at the wetness that has soaked into the sheets.

“we will just shower than sleep in one of the guest beds. you can make a mess of all of them for all i care, anything to have you again…” rafe pauses for a moment, letting you enjoy his rough hand smoothing over your skin. “you will let me have you again, right?” “yeah.” you nod, there’s no way you can give up rafe now that you’ve gotten a taste. “you can even take me on that date if you still want to.”

rafe smiles, positioning himself on top of your body, pressing kisses all over your face, hands tickling at your sides as you squirm with laughter underneath him. “my angel.” rafe sighs happily, pressing a kiss to your lips.

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huskerlust · 1 month

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I need someone who is artistically inclined to create the Huskerdust head-canon that lives rent free in my head please:

One night Val keeps Angel working until the witching hour so he doesn't get back to the hotel until super late.

When he arrives he notices that Husk is still manning the bar, cleaning the glass/counter looking busy.

Angel asks what he's still doing up to which Husk just replies "working".

Angel quickly realizes that he stayed up to make sure he got home safely and gives him a soft look.

Angel asks how his day was to which Husk rambles.

While Husk is busy turned around Angel (clearly exhausted and soothed by Husk's voice) passes out at the counter.

Husk picks him up and places him on the couch and then sits down on the floor leaning against said couch. He blushes and falls asleep as well.

THE END

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #husk x angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #vivziepop #husker x angel dust #angel dust x husk #husk #fat nuggets

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artytaeh · 16 days

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⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #harry potter drabbles #theo nott x reader #theo not x you #slytherin boys react #angst #angst headcanons #theodore nott dating #dating headcanons #angst with a happy ending #mentions of abuse #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin x reader

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