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#walk on your knees for me. will you walk on your knees yet. I'll take you apart with one blow. ill take you apart with less.
inkyray · 3 days
Note
sick!matt x reader fluff 😛
a/n: i literally love writing a platonic reader n chris dynamic
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content ahead: sick!matt x reader, bae u a master chef in this, just pure cutesy fluff :P
TOO LATE
"You're joking." You say, holding your phone up to your ear as Nick's voice boomed through it. "I swear I'm not, he can't even like– walk on his own." Nick said, almost like he was complaining but he definitely wasn't, if anything he was worried for his brother Matt.
He called you to let you know just how bad Matt's sickness got, based on what he told you, Matt's body temperature was burning hot yet he was still freezing, he was cold and sweaty, his small strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Apparently it was a struggle for him to even head to the bathroom, almost falling over with how weak his body had gotten. "Whatever he's got, it's definitely worse than fever." Nick sighs as you hold your phone with your cheek and shoulder, putting on your shoes.
"I'm coming over, I'm bringing medicine and a few ingredients. I'll make him some soup, hopefully it'll help." You assure, tying your shoelaces. Nick sighs in relief, "Thank fuck. I knew you'd be help. I'm like, so glad Matt came to his senses and asked you to be his girlfriend. If he hadn't done it sooner I would've asked you to marry me by then." You brightly laugh at his words, grabbing for your keys.
"Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes."
-
It was a lot worse than you thought.
The moment you entered his room, it was warm with unnatural heat and he was clearly tangled under all his pillows. You approached the side he was laying in, bending down to his level, your knees on the floor as your hands immediately tangled in his hair, moving it to the side so you could see his eyes better. "Matt." You mutter, your voice low and soft, unsure if he's asleep or not. His eyes flutter open to the sound of your voice, looking up at you lazily, beyond glad that you were here. He utters your name, his voice husky and thick. You immediately lean forward to peck him on the lips. "How are you feeling?" You question
He frowns, as if his sickness has been draining both physically and mentally. "Horrible. So so bad." Matt's eyes look like they were exhausted, rimmed with pink. You scowled, feeling beyond bad for your boyfriend. "Okay, I brought you medicine. Sit up for me, baby?" You ask him, your voice immediately soothing through his migraine like honey.
You turn to the bag you brought, skimming through it as you grab the right antibiotic. Matt takes long seconds to build up the courage to sit up, knowing how much physical energy it would take from him. When you turn your head back to him, he finally uses his elbows to sit up, his blanket slipping from off his chest, a hot breeze hitting you in the face.
A small comforting grin rests on your lips, and Matt curves his lips up lazily and crookedly, his mood feeling the most better at the sight of you. Handing him the pills to his palm, you grab the water bottle by his bed. 
With the pills finding their way to his mouth, you hold the water bottle up to his mouth. He takes large gulps from the bottle, depending on you to hold it for him. He pulls his head away, deciding that was enough for him after swallowing the medicine, visibly wincing, lifting a hand to touch his adam's apple. You understand that he had a bad case of a sore throat, and you get up. Matt's eyes follow you up. "Have you eaten yet?" You question, and he drops his gaze, shaking his head. You sigh.
"I thought as much."
"I'm sorry." He apologized with a harsh and croaky voice. You melt right then and there. "No, no. Matt, hon, it's okay." You offer a breathy chuckle. "I'll cook for you." You soothe your hands through his knotted and messy hair and his face visibly softens. He loved when you'd cook, always preferring it over take-out.
One time, you had caught your boyfriend arguing with his brother, Chris, to have you cook for them instead of just ordering out.
+
"Dude, she's not gonna be able to make chicken alfredo. We don't have the fucking ingredients." Chris sighed, pressing his eyebrows together.
"Chris, trust me. We could just go out and buy them really quick! I swear, it'll be heavenly." Matt jolted his leg up and down, attempting to talk him through it, already tasting his girlfriend's cooking on his tongue.
"It's almost 12:00 AM, Matt! The store is literally closed and she probably doesn't even wanna cook." Chris initiated, grabbing his phone out to order something. Matt rests his head on his palm, leaning against the kitchen island as he watches Chris order, giving up. "Do you think she'll want to tomorrow, though?" Matt wonders out loud.
"I actually hope so. I don't think anyone's made steak the same way she has." Chris responds, not denying the fact that your cooking truly is something else. "Right?" Matt agrees. "One of the best dinners of my life." Chris nods along, secretly hoping you'd be willing to feed them the next day.
+
You tap the large wooden spoon against the pot, letting any remaining liquid fall down the pot. You had decided to make him the classic chicken noodle soup. When Nick was sick, you had made him tomato soup, thankfully he had loved it, even after recovering asking you to make him some more. But you knew if you made that for Matt, it would've been a death wish.
You pour him the soup in a bowl, lifting a normal spoon up to your mouth as you blow the steam away, trying it. Perfect.
Getting the feeling of a lingering body behind, you spin your head around, seeing Chris hold his phone between both his hands like a purse, standing shyly behind you as he eyes the pot. "You good?" You laugh, and he doesn't audibly respond, only giving you an exaggerated sigh. "You want to try?" You finally ask after he gives you another sigh, he smiles immediately. "Yes, puh-lease." He uttered desperately. You take a quick scoop and hold it up, holding a palm under the spoon to keep anything from dripping. He notices your action, taking the spoon from you and mimicking your gesture, holding a hand under it as he brings it to his mouth.
He blows on it, flinching at the hotness of the liquid before finally pulling it in his mouth. A sense of victory pumps through you as you watch his eyes light up. "Can I have a bowl? Please, please, please. I promise I won't ask you for anything else. " He begs and you roll your eyes. 
"Let me feed your brother first, if there's any left, you can take some."
"Ugh." He huffs, migrating to the living room couch, watching on his phone until you're done.
You place the bowl under a plate, stabilizing it as you head for Matt's room.
Pushing through the door, you walk in on Matt in the same position you had left him in, scrolling through his phone before looking up at you when you enter. Closing his phone, he fixates himself on the bed as you approach, sitting on the side of his bed right by where his legs are crossed over each other under the blankets. "You made soup?" He questions before his eyes level with the bowl.
"I had to, it's tradition." You tell him, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of soup. But if you were one thing, it would be willing to get him to like anything. "Okay." He hums, although you hadn't said anything, he trusted your judgement. You hold the spoon up to your mouth and blow at it, trailing it to his mouth.
"It's too hot, baby." He gasps, his lips jolting back from the sudden heat. "I know, but you'll have to drink it down. The whole point of soup when you're sick is to drink it hot." You assure, blowing a little more at it.
"But why?" He murmured, not liking what you were saying. "To burn the germs and to help you sweat, sweating helps you lose your fever quicker." He listens to you explain as you continue a little further, mentally reminding himself that you were also an older sister, this behavior coming to you naturally.
"Mm. Okay."
Grimacing when the hot liquid makes its way into his mouth, his face drops from any stiffness and lets it marinate in his mouth, swallowing it down. "Is there anything you're not good at?" He asks.
"I always burn sugar cookies."
"Oh yeah." Matt recalls. "I thought I was gonna experience a second house fire."
You shut him up with another spoon to his mouth.
-
The hours pass and you've done everything in your will to help Matt, and now that the sun is fully set, you can tell he has gotten the slightest bit better, knowing the change would kick in the next morning. There was no doubt that you were tired, doing the dishes and putting everything away, tidying up the kitchen, the living room, and Matt's bedroom.
It was when he threatened to never recover from this fever until you finally rested when you decided to take a break. You changed into spare pajamas that you keep in Matt's room, he watched you change with an upset look playing. 
"What?" You had asked.
"Wish I wasn't sick. Doing all these things for me, and still looking so beautiful. What a lucky piece of shit I am." He began getting sentimental. "You're too perfect for this world, you know that?" He watches you turn a flustered shade of blossom as you begin crawling into bed next to him.
You lay on your side as Matt raised an arm to drape over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him as you got comfortable, resting his hands on the dip of your waist, his fingers drawing shapes. Seconds pass, and you finally answer. "I don't think you're a piece of shit."
The sound of his hoarse chuckle vibrates through his chest. "You suck at taking compliments."
You lift your head up and he looks down at you, both of you getting the same idea in mind. "Don't." He warns, but you kiss him anyway. You didn't care that he was sick, or if that'll get you sick too. His warm lips pressed onto yours as you smiled in triumph.
"Too late."
part 2 here
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
Text
Typical Day for a Mall Cop
My name's Bill, and I've been a guard at the mall for almost a decade now. It wasn't my dream job, but life has a way of creeping up on you with kids and a mortgage. I needed something to pay the bills, and I've always had a knack for watching over people.
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Like any other weekend, the mall is fairly busy, so I stay on my feet and patrol the halls for most of the day. Occasionally, I'll check in with the other mall cop, but my time is mostly filled with watching shoppers come and go. If anybody gets too rowdy, a stern look is enough to keep them in line.
A lot of the time, teenagers will loiter in stores. Some of them even try and bring their skateboards in, but it isn't too hard to make them adhere to the mall's strict policies. They might be young and clueless, but that doesn't mean I'll cut them any breaks.
Over by the fountain, I see one of the boys I admonished a week ago. I think I caught him shoplifting or something. Thieves normally get banned from the mall, but I didn't do that with this one. He said something that completely caught me off guard; he said he could hypnotize me.
I laughed in his face.
Amused inwardly by the boy's foolish claim, I walk over to check in with him. I'm sure he'll remember the security guard that almost kicked him out of the mall last weekend.
The kid is chatting with his friends, but they fall quiet when they notice me looming behind them. Like we'd discussed last week, I drop to my knees and kneel in front of the troublemaker. He explained that this is the best thing for me to do when I see him around, and I can't help but agree. I know the boy deserves my respect.
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I plant a kiss on both of his sneakers, and then wait for him to speak first. It takes a minute because he and his friends are busy cracking up over some unspoken joke. Whatever it is, clearly went right over my head.
"How you doin', mall pig?" the boy laughs.
I smirk at the nickname he's given me. We've gotten in the habit of calling each other by these pseudonyms, and I don't mind it.
"Very good, sir," I answer, using the name I've come to associate him with, "How are you?"
"Fine, I guess," he shrugs, "I spent your cash on kicks for my crew."
That reminds me of last week again. The boy had made it seem like a good idea to give him all the money I had, which included the paycheck I'd earned for last pay period. On the ground, I had a close view of all the vibrant sneakers the teenagers were wearing. It was nice to know he'd put my gift to good use, even if my wife had been pissed that I'd come home without my month's salary.
"You have another check for me, fat ass?"
His friends laugh at his new nickname for me, but I shake my head and answer a solemn, "No, sir."
The teenager groans and leads his gang of friends away, already bored with me. It seems like he's just going to leave me there, kneeling in the middle of the mall, until he turns and beckons me to follow. Inwardly, I'm glad that he's not done with me yet. I've come to enjoy our interactions a lot.
I follow the boys, crawling behind them all the way into a bathroom.
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"If you ain't got any cash to keep me and my crew entertained, then you're gonna have to do something to make us laugh," he explains.
"Of course, sir!" I smile, trying to express how willing I am to impress him and his friends.
"We'd find it hilarious if you dunked your head in each toilet," he adds blandly.
I light up. He's just explained how I can be of service and now all I have to do is follow through. I'm sure it'd be hilarious for them to watch a fully grown security guard giving himself a few swirlies. That's peak comedy!
"Watch this, sir!" I laugh, crawling over to the first toilet and shoving my face into the water without any hesitation.
I know the guy that's supposed to clean these bathrooms, and it's obvious he slacks off because there are skid marks all over. I try not to think about it as my cheeks and forehead brush against the bottom of the bowl. When I pull my face out of the flushing toilet, my ears pop and hear a roar of laughter behind me. The kids find it hilarious, which only fuels my desire to keep going.
With a gaping grin, I shuffle over to the next stall and repeat. There are six toilets in the men's restroom. Some are cleaner than others. The last one is a clogged mess, and the boys find it hilarious when I come up with toilet paper plastered to my face. I laugh through it all, even if the urge to puke is growing.
By the time I'm done, I'm soaked in toilet water, and the teenagers are in tears.
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"Alright, toilet guy. That was disgusting," the leader of the pack chuckles, grimacing in my direction, "You have a car or something?"
"Yes, sir. I've got a minivan in the parking lot."
"A minivan?" he seems disappointed, "Hand over the keys anyway. We wanna drive around."
"You got it, sir," I say, fishing the fob out of my damp pockets.
He swipes the keys out of my hand eagerly and turns to leave the bathroom. I start to follow the boys out, but he stops me.
"Why don't you stay in here 'till you dry off," he snorts, "You can spend that time in the corner, thinking about what you can do for me next time I'm at the mall."
"Yes, sir," answer, and the boys leave.
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Briefly, the thought of getting back to work crosses my mind. I really should be out there keeping an eye on the vendors and their merchandise, but that goes away. Like suggested, I stare at the dirty tile wall and begin to brainstorm what I can do for the boy the next time I see him.
My walkie goes off now and then with the voice of my coworker wondering where I am, but I ignore it.
After an hour or so, I've dripped mostly dry, but a strong stink still lingers around my head. Still, I've come up with a few different things I could have ready next week. It'll take some overtime to make extra cash for the boy. My wife won't be happy about that, but it'll give me a chance to actually have cash ready for him when he asks for it.
The only other thing I have to offer is the perks of my job. Maybe his friends and him would like a tour of the security office? I'd give them free reign of everything in the confiscated bin.
Speaking of my job, I should probably get back. My partner is probably angry at me for not answering the radio. He'll be happy when I tell him I'll take the late shift for the next few days. Hopefully he won't say anything about the smell. God, it's awful!
Just another day working as a mall cop!
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ccbunnv · 2 days
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Hiya, could y
You make a bill kaulitz fic, where he loves getting head from you? <not headcanons, please>
i just got the most mind wrenchin idea for this hold on please forgive me for not posting i had an exam
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader smut
twas a normal hallows eve, full of candy and slutty teenagers dressed in lingerie. you have to attend a party at your friend's house, but your homebody boyfriend opts to relax at home instead.
since you're going to be gone for a long while, why not be nice and give him a little treat before you have to leave?
you walk downstairs to the living room, where he's lazing on the couch and having a horror movie marathon.
you smile and walk over to kiss his forehead, instantly snatching his attention away from the bright tv screen.
"honey, you look gorgeous. you're leaving already?" he asks, sitting upwards properly.
"yeah, you want me to get you anything?" you reply, adjusting the neckline of your raunchy costume.
"um, candy would be nice, meine liebe." he says, watching you.
"sure, I'll see if they have a sorta party bag for you." you smile at him, admiring how he looks at you. gosh, it warms your heart.
you bring out your phone to check the time. okay, there's forty-five minutes left before you have to actually go, so there's enough time for a little gift.
your heels click against the laminated wooden tiles, growing louder as you approach him. he looks up at you confusedly, "schatz?"
"I'll be gone for a long time, do you think you can handle it?" you ask.
"I think so..." he says, looking away from you bashfully.
you smirk and raise an eyebrow at his cute, shy expression. using the hair tie on your wrist, you tie your hair into a lazy ponytail before going on your knees, in between his thighs.
"l-love?" he calls out curiously, "what are you...?"
you press a soft kiss onto the bulge right in front of you. he thought he was being smooth by playing nonchalant, but his hard-on gives it all away.
he tips his head back, letting a soft whimper leave his lips. you unzip his jeans and pull them down to his knees, revealing his calvin klein boxers, a large tent protruding from the middle.
you giggle, licking its clothed tip at first, making him hiss. you hadn't even done anything yet, but his cock was already twitching, aching for a sort of release.
as slowly as possible, you pull his boxers down, freeing his member from its confinement. oozing with pre-cum, veins travelling from the base to his bright red tip, like a trail to a prize.
you wrap your lips around his mushroom tip, kissing it and sucking on it. his hands travel down to your hair, grasping it in hopes of relieving the oncoming pleasure.
you tease his tip by pressing your tongue against it and dragging it up and down his slit, making him whine for mercy. you pull away with a soft 'pop!' and trail your kisses down to his balls.
he sobs, "stop...stop, t'much, can't..."
"you can, honey..." you whisper back, using your tongue to trace the veins on his shaft.
he nods, biting his bottom lip. you grin at his obedience, and kiss your way back up to his tip.
staring at his hard cock, you can't help but feel the familiar knot in your stomach form. it's unbelievable how cute he's being.
you slowly sink your mouth down his dick, trying to take in as much as you can. the rest of the inches that you can't take, you use your hand to substitute your mouth.
you look up at him, trying to see what type of reaction he held and gosh, you could just cum right then and there. his pretty eyes all rolled back, eyeliner running down his cheeks, his cute lips in an 'o' shape and his tongue slightly peeking out.
you bob your head up and down slowly, bringing him back from his trance. he hisses and grips your hair, but quickly loosens it when you slap his thigh to tell him to quit it.
"'m sorry, feels too good...nnh, stop it, bitte, mama..." he pleads, and you oblige. but when you do pull away, he starts to buck his hips into your unmoving hand that are wrapped around his base.
"what's wrong? you told me to stop." you tease him.
he whines, "no, no, no...please continue mama, I don't..."
you giggle, before resuming what you were doing. your wet, warm mouth is no replacement for your pussy, but god, it felt so good.
he sobs as he attempts to thrust his hips into your mouth, but your hand on his thigh makes it hard for him to do so. the wet sounds of your mouth makes him cry from how good it feels...
you remove your hand from the base of his shaft and place it on his other thigh, sinking down onto his dick furthur. your throat convulses around him, and he can feel it. he sucks in his tummy to try and relieve the harsh pleasure coursing through his veins.
he lifts his legs and wraps them around your shoulder, trying to bring you closer while he pants like a dog.
you slap his thighs and shakily, he pulls his legs down. you bring a hand to fondle his balls, and that's when he finally snaps.
with a loud cry, "bitte, mama, bitte!" he finally cums into your mouth, and the salty taste of his release coats your tongue. you pull away from him, a string of his cum mixed with your saliva connecting his tip to your bottom lip.
his cock lays limp on his tummy, occasionally spurting ropes of cum when you trace the veins on his shaft. you take out your phone from your bag and say, "pose for the camera, baby."
he does so like a good boy, doing two peace signs and you snap a quick photo to put as your wallpaper. checking out the time, you find out it's about 12 minutes left and you have to go soon.
you give his tip a quick kiss, and then his lips, "see you soon baby! don't miss me too much. if you're still pent up you can use my vibrator in my vanity. love you!"
"loove you..." he slurs, his vision hazy with overstimulated tears, watching you leave.
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hathorneheiress · 1 day
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Episodes of surprise
Avery's POV
Sometimes they come fast. Bringing me to my knees. Other times it took a little while. Torturously taking it's sweet time to get to me. Today was the time it came fast.
I was in my room getting ready for the day when my breathing became labored and I began shaking like a leaf. I had never had to deal with panic attacks but now I did. I noticed it not to long after losing my mom but it got worse when I became the richest teenager in the world over a year ago. In that short time I had been shot at, threatened, bombed, in a coma. Chloroformed and kidnapped. Almost lost people I hold dear and so much more. Definitely something to spike my panic attacks.
I was on the floor in an instant. Cupping my hands over my ears I rocked back and forth. Trying to focus on my breathing it did nothing to calm my nerves. Oddly, it only made it worse.
"Heiress, just breath." the voice sounded so far away yet so close at the same time. Then I saw my boyfriend's face right next to mine.
Jameson Winchester Hawthorne was everything and nothing I had thought I would have for a boyfriend. Emarald green eyes that usually sparkled in mischief was filled with concern. The constant smirk was replaced with a frown. The one thing that was the same was the unruly dark brown hair. So artfully mused. 
Most people saw Jameson as a spoiled billionaire grandson with an adrenaline rush and a need for riddles and adventures.   And he was, but only me and his brothers knew there was more then the outside people got to see. He was also kind, caring, funny. Gave me distractions when I needed them the most. (And sometimes not) Gave me the best back rubs and hugs. Was a perfect kisser. Did I say that?
I felt his warm hands cup my face. "It's ok Heiress. Focus on me."
A peaceful sense came over me and was able to concentrate on his words. "J-Jameson." I murmured shakily. "What are you doing here?"
"I got home early. And I'm glad I did. How long has it been going for?"
"Not long." I confessed burying myself in his chest. He smelled of expensive cologne, whisky, bad morning breath, and cake batter? 
I sat up. "Where have you been?" I asked suspiciously.
He gave me his most charming smile. Proof he was doing something he was not supposed to be doing. "A surprise."
I gave him a look. He laughed. "Alright Heiress, you win. I'll show you what it is. But you have to promise me you are up for it. Especially after your episode. (Jameson always called it that. Trying to be discreet which I appreciate.)
Honestly, I had forgotten about it. But that's what usually happened. I'd be having a panic attack and Jameson would miraculously appear. He'd get me talking about other things and then everything negative I felt went away.  "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."
"Anything for you Heiress." We both rose from the floor.
Taking my hand he led me through the house till we got toward the kitchen. Why were we going there?
He seemed to read my mind. "You'll see."
"Surprise!!!!!!!!" People shouted as soon as we walked through the doors. I jumped in shock. Everyone I loved and cared for was there.  Xander and Max stood in a corner holding large amounts of punch. Libby, with Nash at her side, stood next to a gigantic pile of cupcakes. There was a least 200 if not more. Frosted with every color under the sun. I noticed Grayson in another corner holding a very wiggling Tiramisu. I couldn't help but giggle.
Thea, Rebecca, the Laughlin's. Alisa Oren, and Zara too. 
Why was everyone here? It wasn't my birthday or the anniversary of when I came. "What's the occasion?" I had to ask. "Why is everyone here?"
"It's officially Avery Grambs appreciation day!" Xander shouted out.
"What?"
Jameson explained. "We have been noticing how stressed out you have been getting. And we decided that you need to take a break. Also we wanted to show you how much you mean to each and everyone of us." He smirked. "Including Thea."
"Ha ha Jameson Hawthorne." She gave a smile that only Thea herself could give.
"So all this is just for me?" I couldn't get over it.
"Just for you. Including the cupcakes. You have to eat all 300 by yourself."
I playfully gutted him in the stomach. 
"Oh thank you!" I went around and hugged everyone there. And got dog kisses from Tiramisu as well.
What started out as a horrible day turned into one of joy and fun. We consumed more cupcakes than I will admit and talked for hours about random, stupid things that only the Hawthornes and us would talk about.
It was good to be loved and appreciated. 
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Text
Just restarted Merlin and, like, these folks are a little homogay
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fluffylino · 4 months
Text
pussy drunk minho
he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~
-contains mature themes
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"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.
now that was a lie.
"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.
"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.
"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.
"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.
"deal"
"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.
the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.
if he could dom you. you could dom him.
his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."
so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.
"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.
minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.
and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.
a lie honestly.
his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.
it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.
.
.
the day one was fine.
he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.
day three was when you noticed him staring.
you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.
so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.
eyes locked onto your covered heat.
"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.
"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.
when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.
"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.
.
"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.
"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.
"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.
stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.
.
.
"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.
first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.
"are you gonna be a goo-"
"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.
"yes yes. now can i-"
"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.
"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.
"promise?"
"hmmmm"
you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.
"wh-"
his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.
inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.
using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.
a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.
"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.
"may i...please?"
you nodded. satisfied.
.
you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.
nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.
so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.
"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.
you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.
"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.
pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.
"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.
"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.
"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.
his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.
a muffled whimper escaping him.
"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.
"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.
lips swollen and red.
"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.
"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"
"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.
"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.
"c-come on kitty, make me cum"
you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.
a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.
nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.
small little whines leaving him at your taste.
"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.
"good k-kitty?"
"did so good for me"
.
.
"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"
"AHAH SO I WON-"
.
.
.
5K notes · View notes
kitscutie · 5 months
Note
hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹
snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!
word count: 2.2k
join my taglist here.
"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.
You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.
"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.
"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.
"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.
"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.
You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.
"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.
"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.
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You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.
"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.
"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.
"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.
"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.
"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.
"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.
"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.
"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.
"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.
"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.
You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.
"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.
"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.
"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.
"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.
"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.
"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.
"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.
"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.
"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.
"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.
As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.
Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.
She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.
He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.
"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.
"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.
The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.
You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.
Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.
Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.
"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.
"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.
"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.
"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.
"Okay." You said.
"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.
His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.
Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.
"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.
"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.
"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.
"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.
"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.
"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.
"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.
"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.
"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.
You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.
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TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
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triptuckers · 4 months
Text
keep the nightmares away - percy jackson
Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!
you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.
everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.
'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'
percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.
'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'
'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'
'thank the gods.' you mutter.
you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.
you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.
you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.
'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.
if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.
when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.
after a few minutes she returns with two keys.
'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.
'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'
you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.
'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'
'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.
you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.
'sorry.' you mutter.
'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.
'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'
yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.
you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.
'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.
you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.
'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.
you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.
'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.
you sigh. 'fine.'
'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'
'thanks, perce.'
percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.
he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.
when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.
he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.
'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.
'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'
you frown. 'first shift?'
'sleeping in the bed.'
'where will you sleep?'
'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'
you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.
sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.
percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.
'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.
'alright.' says percy.
there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.
'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'
'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.
you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.
'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'
'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.
it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?
after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.
he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.
but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.
it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.
'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?
but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.
he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.
but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.
you're having a nightmare.
a bad one, by the looks of it.
gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.
'hey, wake up.'
in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.
you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.
'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.
his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.
'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.
'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.
'no I'm fine.'
'talking mostly helps me.'
you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.
'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'
'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.
'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.
'shit, I'm sorry.'
'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'
'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'
'yeah, I can try.'
the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.
'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.
'yeah?'
'is it okay if I...?'
wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.
'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.
'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.
you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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titan-senpai · 3 months
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What the hell??
A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly..
Part 2
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I woke up on the cold streets in the middle of nowhere.. " Where am i.." Holding my head trying to stand up, taking a look around, seeing creatures everywhere. " What the.." I blinked a few times not believing my eyes. I turned my head and saw a shop with mirrors and took a look at my reflection.
shocked to see my own reflection.. White with red marks on my body.. then i turned around and asked a girl "Little girl can you tell me where i am?" The little girl just laughed. " You're new around here?" She took a drink of her milkshake. I just nodded.
" Wel.. Welcome to hell! " She laughed walking away from me " Goodluck newbie" I stood there in shock.
How did I end up here? Wat.. it was that bastard.. looking at my red spots indicating wounds. It's all his fault...I felt my knees get weak as I fell down on them next to the shop.
I don't know How many hours have passed by but out of nowhere a girl walked by me taking an interest in me. "let me guess.. your new?" She said chewing her gum looking at her phone.. she's probably addicted. I nodded.
" You've got good bone structure and a taste in fashion.." She cupped my face looking at it.. " You wanna work for me?" she let go letting me stand up. I took a look at her clothing and thought it must be an influencer or something.
" Whatcha say dear... I need a yes or no." She said firmly and I nodded without saying anything. "Follow me." As she walked away I followed her.
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Walking into a building called VoxTech? Following her into the elevator as she presses the highest button and scans the card. "Names Velvette.." She checked her phone again, typing away.
"My name is Y/N." I fidgeted my hands anxiously. The elevator door opens revealing a room filled with Photos of her and 2 other guys.
"VOX VAL! get your asses here" She yelled into her phone. Dramatic much.
Seeing a spark out of a tv turn into a guy with a tv head while the other was nowhere to be found. "VAL NO JOKES!" She yelled as smoke entered the room. Turning into a man with 4 arms.
" This is the girl i was talking about.. take a look at her" she walked off sitting on the couch nearby checking her phone.
" And what do we have here.." taking a look at me while he checks me out breathing smoke into my shoulders feeling his breath giving me shivers, "your a pretty one aren't you.." feeling his breath closer to me M" Doll..." walking to his desk. "And what is your talent?" The TV headed guy asked me. "i.." Speechless as I left a shaky breath shivering.
"No time for chit chat.. I'll figure her talent out, follow me me newbie" velvette said walking to the room, opening the door revealing a whole wardrobe " FIrst let's get you dressed.. Cant have them see you with us wearing normie clothes can we.." She smirked, pushing me in the room. " Pick one.. I'll be outside." I looked at the clothes, feeling fine silky clothes. None of them caught my interest.
Looking in the mirror at the end of the room touching my clothes that I currently have on. Imagining the clothes i used to wear. and suddenly my hands start to glow. and they started to make the clothes i was thinking off. and soon I was holding them.
20 Minutes passed and I heard a knock " R you done yet dear.." I opened the door walking out in baggy jeans with a Crop top with a window revealing my cleavage a bit and a Jacket with fur. White boots to match the white bag.
" You look fabulous dear.. Where did you get these? I don't have these in my small closet.." I finally let go of her phone pointing at my clothes.
" I think i figured out my talent.." showing her my hands. " Welcome to the Vees my dear.." 
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I
1 2 3 4 5
Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.
''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.
''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.
''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.
''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.
''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.
''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.
''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.
''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.
''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.
''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.
''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.
[NEXT]
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temis-de-leon · 3 months
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Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 1
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), mammon and mc taking a shower together, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, kinda ooc but i had so much fun with this
.
Lucifer
Wherever you went, rumor followed. Haven't you heard? The mighty Lord of Pride has a significant other. Who could it be? Maybe the prince or his butler? Both of them? Or perhaps it was just some random demon? Surely not the human... right?
"Of course not!" said the witch, surrounded by both curious and jealous nobles.
You weren't in the balcony, but you could still hear the conversation in your spot near the open door. You could also hear the gasps and the murmurs. It was ridiculous.
What to do next? You could interrupt the gossip and make your relationship public; after all, it was only a matter of time before someone spotted you both in Ristorante Six or an empty hallway in RAD.
Ignoring them was the better option, however. No words sounded aggressive and yet polite enough to get the witch to shut up without making a scene. Plus, Lucifer was looking exquisitely fine that night. His wings did wonders to his appearance.
"Then who?" the voices asked while you walked away towards your boyfriend.
"Well, I wasn't supposed to say anything..."
Oh no she did not.
"But we're just so in love"
I'll be damned, you thought. She did.
The wrath you felt was primal and it provoked a worried glance from Satan, who was chatting with one of his many contacts in the other side of the ballroom.
You wanted to make an entrance, a dramatic one, but you could only watch as the witch talked and talked about her supposed first date with Lucifer, their first kiss, their first time, his performance in bed (which... No. She was so wrong about that one).
Finally, you opened your mouth.
"You don't say?"
But that wasn't your voice.
Beside you stood Lucifer in all his glory, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and a hand hugging your waist. The floor trembled under your feet as he walked and, if it wasn't for his tight grip, the magic induced vertigo would've send you to the ground.
You could tell he was trying not to harm you too much, but the group in the balcony wasn't so lucky. All of them were on their knees and some even coughing blood.
"Do tell all your stories tonight, by dawn you'll have no tongue to keep lying"
The witch had tears in her eyes, too focused on her own pain to be aware of her surroundings or his words. Was he being serious? You wanted to ask what would really happen to that woman, but Lucifer was always two steps ahead.
He cradled your face and kissed you, slowly yet firm. His cold skin felt good against yours, already blushing under his half lidded eyes.
"Dance with me?" he asked, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.
Damn, did he know how to distract you.
Mammon
"You're dating the Great Mammon!" he'd said with his characteristic smile, both of you eating ramen in your bed while watching bad romcoms "That's something to be stoked about! You need to tell everyone about it!"
Of course, that translated to: please, please, please, I need people to know that I bagged YOU and YOU chose ME.
So, there you were, chatting with his makeup stylist and some other models while he posed in front of the camera. It was better than you expected, actually. You thought the fashion world in the Devildom would be full of self righteous assholes and insufferable divas, but you couldn't be more wrong.
Well, of course, there's always an exception.
There was a demoness in the other side of the studio, taking selfies with a pout in her lips and a fake, nauseating, innocence in her expression. She looked toxic from a mile away.
And yet, your boyfriend dated her for three months; three long and excruciating months, yes, but still. They'd dated.
And you were cool with that. So so cool with that. You were chill. A freezer, even. You loved Mammon and everyone and their mother could tell Mammon loved you. Everything was fine.
Except... well...
It was easy to forget the brothers were famous and popular bachelors, princes of hell, that, just like in every human monarchy, had fans to spare. People that would support them no matter what they did and no matter who they dated and people that would hate everyone they dated because... You don't really know why.
You just had some haters.
And this bitch was taking advantage of this, you knew it in your heart.
Rumors of Mammon cheating on you with one of his model coworkers had been there since the beginning of your relationship. It was something you just had to live with, one of the reasons the Avatar of Greed doted on you with everything he had.
Mammon loved you.
So why did you panick so much when he stood up in the underwear he was advertising, getting ready for the next picture, and the demoness took a selfie of her lips with his half naked body behind her?
"That whore" whispered another model behind you. You liked them.
But it was okay, you didn't mind. No, really. You didn't.
Except you did.
And so did Mammon.
"Oi!"
Everyone looked at him and you could swear his demon form was starting to show, blending with his siluette in blurred edges.
"Delete that"
She could've laughed at him, like everyone tended to do. She could've ignored him and tempt fate, but it was not a wise idea.
There was static in the air, black mist barely clouding your vision and a faint voice whispering in the back of your brain. The sound of feathers filled the room and soon crows started to surround the studio outside the window.
After a couple of sickening minutes, a loud pop settled the place back to normal and caused the birds to fly away.
The demoness gasped, letting her DDD fall to the ground like it burned her. Looking at her smoking hands, it probably did.
After that, everyone acted like nothing happened. You, however? Your whole body was buzzing, leaving you paralyzed with feelings you needed to explore in the future and making Mammon look at you with a knowing smile.
"...sick of those rumors..." he'd say hours later while he washed your hair in the shower "and you dumbass humans believe everything you see, even if it's stupid"
He'd wait until you were both in bed, ruminating about every little thing that happened back there before talking again.
"Because it's stupid, you know? I'd never cheat on ya. The Great Mammon would never do that to you. I mean, I'd never to that anyway, but specially not to you. Keep that in mind, human! You catched the best demon of all hell! Lucky you!"
Lucky me, he wanted to say instead.
You understood him anyways.
Leviathan
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu sent you a message!
.
.
You stared at the screen and the screen stared back at you.
Reading the user name physically hurt you and you'd lie if you said you weren't worried about it. Did you trust Levi? Yes, absolutely. Did you trust f3istyk1ttenuwu? Not really, no.
So (this time voluntarily), you opened the gates of hell.
It was the Devildom version of Discord, which was worrying enough, and the user's pfp showed a cute pinked hair girl with dainty horns and half of her boobs out.
With a frown and your heartbeat in your throat, you opened the chatroom.
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: r u lone?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: did ur frend leef?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: their a party pooper
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: didnt let u join the grp
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: :(
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: leviachsn?
.
Oh, heeeeell no.
First of all, it was leviachAn. Second, YOU were the only one who could call him THAT.
Ignoring the voice of reason, you checked the door before investigating the previous messages. Levi was in your room, retrieving your nightwear as punishment for not letting you win in Devil Kart YET AGAIN, so, knowing how flustered he got everytime he saw you in the Ruri Chan's inspired piyamas he got you for your birthday, you were sure you had another couple of minutes alone in his room.
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: thx 4 sving me !!
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: we shld team more
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: were zo good 2gether
wEre Zo gOoD 2gETheR
You couldn't help but mock her in the privacy of your mind. Did she think writing like a 10 year old was attractive? If so, what the fuck?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: call? brke my pc & cn't fix it alone \(-o-)/
"Call a fucking tech" you whispered to yourself.
"Henry?"
Fuck.
You turned around like a deer in headlights. Levi's cheeks still wore a furious red, but he remained quiet at the door when he saw you snooping through his private conversations.
Fuck it, you thought after some uncomfortable seconds. If someone could understand jealousy, it would be him.
"Who's this girl?"
Levi frowned and got closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to see his computer, probably giving you the closeness he'd crave if he was in your place.
"Oh, I don't know" his final answer disappointed you "Some girl the others wanted in the party"
But why was she talking to him like that?
"And why is she talking to you like that?"
He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that both of you knew the answer. Then, he straightened like he had an epiphany, and looked at you with shining eyes and a smile too big for his face.
"Are you jealous, MC?"
Levi jumped in happiness before you could say anything, unable to truly express how happy he was upon his sin affecting you.
"My Henry is jealous!! Because of a yucky disgusting otaku like me!! This reminds me of that anime: 'Help?! My crush snooped through my pc and now they're jealous because someone else is flirting with me??'"
It was obvious by now you had nothing to worry about, so you let him be. You let him appreciate how much you loved him.
In the end, you had to shower his face in kisses to shut him up and, for great measure, you also changed into that extra large Ruri Chan t-shirt in front of him.
Hours later, both of you were sweating in the comfort of his bathtub and Levi was completely sure you fell asleep.
And if you saw how he offered himself to fix this girl's computer only to hack her camera and post her real face all around the internet, no you didn't.
Tagging them lovely people: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin
Hope you like it!
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eternalsdiary · 3 months
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#HATE HOW I LOVE YOU
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pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader
tags: hate sex, ellie, and more ellie <3
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You HATED Ellie Williams, and hate is not a light word. You hated her hair, you hated her buff yet skinny arms, you hate how her eyes would roll when you walked into a room. You hated how even though you hated her, you loved the sight of her face.
"Dina, you know I hate doing shit with her. She makes everything so miserable." You crossed your arms over your chest, sucking on the lollipop in your mouth. "Look YN, just try, please? I'll talk to her, okay?"
You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fine, I'll come but if she starts something I can't grantee I won't go off on her ass."
Soon you found yourself in a small circle with Dina, Jesses, and Ellie. "Let's have a drink." Dina suggests, standing to grab the nearby liquor on the table. "Where'd you even get this from?" You ask leaning back. "Does it matter, just drink it." Ellie speaks, glaring at you like she has been the whole time. You take a deep breath, turning toward Dina. "So, where'd you get it from."
"Just pass me the damn liquor Dina." Ellie interrupts Dina. "Ellie can you for once not be a god damn pain in the fucking ass?" You turn to her, giving her a disgusted look. "Me not be a pain in the ass and you're asking dumbass questions, let's just fucking drink." Suddenly you stand. "Okay I'm not doing this. I even tried to ignore her and still she found a way to be a bitch." Ellie stans as well. "You're callin' me a bitch? Have you seen your attitude lately love?"
You throw your hands up in defeat. "I'm leaving." Finally, Dina stands and grabs your arm. "YN no. You're gonna stay in here! You two need to do something about whatever the hell this weird ass beef is!" I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to stay here and try to make up with her, it's not like she listens." Ellie tries to rush you, but Jesse grabs her. "Okay can everyone just calm the fuck down?!"
Dina takes a deep breath. "You two are going to sit in here and you're going to fucking make up." You shake your head. "I'm not doing that shit." Ellie laughs. "Yeah right, I'm not sitting in a room with her alone." You glare at her, crossing your arms against your chest. “Dina, I swear to go-“ Dina places her hand over your mouth.
“You both are going to stay in this damn room, and you're going to make the hell up.” She fake smiles, grabbing Jesse. You chase after her, “Dina-“ She slams the door in your face and locks it. “Make. Up!” She yells.
Now you sit face to face with Ellie, the silence piercing through the room. “Look, I ain’t plannin’ to make up. So, let’s just pretend we’re cool and leave it at that.” She leans back in the most enticing way, her legs spreading the just right amount.
You struggle to keep your eyes from raining to in between her legs. “I can’t even pretend to like you.” You say rolling your eyes to look away. “You can’t pretend to like me, but you can pretend like you weren’t just staring in between my legs?” She smirks, sitting up and leaning down against her knees.
Your face heats up and you avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t ev-“ Ellie laughs, “Damn and then you lie about it? I thought you were bolder than that.” You glare at her. “You’re so cocky, you must think everyone likes looking in between your legs.” She laughs once more. “I know you do.”
She silences you.
Suddenly she stands, placing herself in front of you on the floor. “So do you wanna make up or not?” She was close, very close. Her eyes trailing down to your lips, her hands placed on your thighs. “What are you talking about?” You speak quietly from being so close.
“Let’s make up.”
After that phrase was uttered, you and Ellie’s lips collide at a fast speed. The kiss so sloppy and good it has you feeling feverish. Her rough hands sliding up your shirt, against the skin of your stomach. “You must’ve waited so long for this huh?” She says smirking against your lips.
“Just shut the fuck up.” Ellie laughs. “Shut me up.” Those words ignite a light in your belly, causing you to squeeze your legs together. “Look at you all tense, want me to help you?” She asks, placing her hands higher up your shirt. Her hands find themselves unbuckling your black bra, and you were happy you wore it.
“Must’ve known this was gonna happen huh? Wore such a pretty bra f’me?” Ellie attaches her lips to your neck, biting down softly and pulling a small sound from your lips as you jolt. “Want me to touch you? Tell me.” She waits for your response. “Yeah. I do Ellie, so just fucking do it.”
“Don’t be a bitch about it.”
Finally, you're on your back, her fingers penetrating you at a fast pace. “This feel good huh? Always talking shit, I guess this shuts you up?” She grins over you, watching your face contort from pleasure. “F-fuck! Shut the fuck u-up...!” Your back arching off the couch as she hits that one sweet spot inside you.
“Yeah? This the spot for you huh?” She places your nipple into her mouth, sucking softly. “Oh! Okayokay..!” You place your fingers into her hair, your eyes closed and filling with tears from how good you feel. “Holy-“ Ellie pulls away from the bud with a pop, saliva coating the nipple sloppily.
“Gonna cum around my fingers? Yeah?” She speeds up, your core tightening around her fingers. “I-I’m gonn-“ Ellie suddenly pulls her fingers away. You gasp, looking at her with a glare. “What the hell-“ She places her hand over your mouth. “Lay back down you big baby.”
You force yourself back down with a groan. Ellie’s mouth finds its way to your clot, sucking harshly. “Wh- AH!” Your hands going to her head as she sucks and licks at your swollen bud. Her eyes never leaving yours as she watches the tears that had built in your eyes finally fall.
“Gonna- whew! I’m gonna cum El’s!” Ellie sucks harder, just enough to make you go over the edge. The pull you have in her hair causing her to groan softly into your cunt. She licks your juices all up, not leaving a drop behind. She sits up, wiping the side of her lip and placing her finger into her mouth like she had leftover sauce from a meal.
“You taste so good YN, if I would’ve known that I’d have eaten you out sooner.” She comes close to your face, causing your face to scrunch. “I thought we made up?”
“Not even close.”
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gojipink · 2 months
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saying sorry 4 dummies
ஐ ft. childe, diluc, xiao
ஐ summary. how they say sorry in their own way after an argument!
ஐ warnings. none, SFW, fem!reader
childe 
he stands at the doorway swallowing a little thickly at the sight of you unmoving from your spot on the couch, eyes glued to your book. 
normally, you would bound over to him with a big smile and plant a kiss on his lips to welcome him home but the two of you are still in the recovering phase after an enormous fight, a fight that left a few scars and bleeding hearts. 
“h-hi baby…um i got us some dinner!” 
you look up at him with a little smile, “oh thanks, what’d you get?” 
“i got us a whole peking duck and some veggie side dishes,” he states rather proudly holding up the bags for you to see.
“a pek- ajax that's so expensive?!” you gasp out standing from your spot on the couch, walking over to him peeking inside the plastic bags.
“yeah well…i don’ know,” he starts a little sheepishly, “i just wanted to have a nice meal with you after well…y’know…i just wanted to treat my girl, is all…” 
you sigh before softly laughing, taking a to-go bag from him, “thank you,” leaning up to press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “it smells delicious. i'll set these up on some plates while you get ready?” 
his eyes close at the feeling of your lips on his skin, feeling the gap the argument created between the two of you slowly begin to close. he nods wordlessly at your suggestion, not yet fully trusting his voice to sound steady, before hurrying into the bedroom to change and wash up. 
you begin to set the table, putting plates and drinks at you and childe’s designated seating spots at the little round table across from each other. 
coming back out from the bedroom, childe watches you for a second with soft eyes as you stand in the kitchen transferring the food onto big plates. walking towards you, he wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his chest firmly against your back while he rests his cheek against the crown of your head.
“honey, it's a little difficult to move with you pressing on me like this,” you voice, though you dont try to wiggle out of his hold, actually leaning back further into him. 
he pouts to himself but doesn't move an inch until you're handing him a plate to take over to the table. 
after all the food has been placed neatly in the middle, you both sit down in your usual spots.
glancing up at him you offer him a little appreciative smile, “thank you for dinner, babe, it looks really good!” 
childe smiles at you and although you two have sat in this arrangement for ages now, he can't help but feel miles away from you. sliding his dinner plate and drink over to the chair next to you, you giggle at him knowing he’s feeling a little clingy.
“what are you doing, ajax?” you laugh at him
settling into the chair he places a hand on your thigh, his thumb lovingly caressing your skin, knees touching. 
“just wanna be close to you, princess,” he shoots you his classic boyish grin before spooning some food onto his plate. gathering some duck and veggies and folding it all in the wrap, he holds it out to you. 
“say ahhh”
diluc 
he stares at the splayed pile of paperwork on his desk, words blurring and blending together while he sits, zoned out. his own mind torturing him by replaying your disappointed and upset expression over and over again. the argument was small, nothing more than a small frustrated spat between lovers. though, it affects diluc all the same. 
diluc tried to fix it then, tried to apologize immediately at the sight of your downcasted eyes. But before he could get a word out, you mumbled that you needed some air and walked out the mansion, leaving him to stew in his own anxiety. 
heaving a heavy sigh, he tosses the reports onto his desk and slumps back into the backrest of his chair, bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes. he just wants you to be home. wants you to be by his side and smiling at him and talking about your day with him. wants to hold you close and tell you he’s sorry for unloading any frustration and any stress onto you when you didn't deserve it. 
a knock at his office doors breaks him out of his turbulent thoughts.
“come in…” he sighed, thinking it must be elzar coming in with something work related. however, when you quietly slip into his office, he immediately stands in surprise, the legs of the chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floors. 
“darling-” 
“i um…i just wanted to bring you something to eat.” you say softly, placing a little to-go box on his desk. “i know you probably haven't eaten yet today, so i thought i would bring you something after strolling around the city…” 
coming around the corner of his desk, his heart melts at your simple yet caring gesture, “that's very kind, my love, thank you.” 
“and um…” looking up at him a little shyly, “i just wanted to say im sorry for, well, earlier. i shouldn’t have gotten so upset and i shouldn’t have just left like that.” 
“nonono, love,” hastily he closes the distance between you two, his hands coming up to rub at your shoulders, “you don't need to apologize. i’m the one who needs to be saying sorry. i shouldn’t have taken any sort of frustration out on you, you didn’t deserve that.”  
giving him a small thankful smile, you reach up to press a sweet kiss to his lips which he happily reciprocates. 
“to be honest, i don't know what we were even arguing about,” you whispered after pulling an inch away. he smiles and rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing to bask in your presence, “i don't either.” 
heart two hundred times lighter than it was when you walked in, you pull away from him smiling, “well, i shall leave you to work then, ‘luc.”
catching your hand before you fully turn away from him, his face suddenly dusted a light pink.
“actually, darling, i was wondering if you wanted to stay? here in the office, i mean. with me. while i work.” 
you look at him with amusement in your eyes as diluc ineloquently stumbles out his request, an extremely rare sight. 
lacing your fingers with his, you step forward to plant a chaste kiss to his cheek, “i would love nothing more.” 
xiao 
his time with you is so short. he’s hyper aware of that fact. his time with you is too short to be wasted on arguments and silent treatments or have any kind of lingering tension. xiao doesn't have that much experience when it comes to dealing with humans or forming a relationship with one, much less a romantic relationship with one. 
he shifts his weight from one foot to the other watching your figure walk across a shorter neighboring mountain top. he sighs to himself thinking back to earlier this morning when the two of you were engaged in a flurry of heated exchanges. xiao didn’t mean to take it as far as he did, didn't mean it like that when he called you weak, didnt mean to make you worry when he suddenly disappeared for a week straight. didnt mean to make matters worse when he had to leave abruptly in the middle of the argument because someone called his name. 
“you could’ve at least given me some kind of sign! a note, a messenger, anything!” your voice becoming a little raised, your concern for him being overtaken by frustration.
“i didn't realize that that would be necessary,” he said lowly, patience quickly wearing thin. 
“you were suddenly gone for an entire week! what else was i supposed to think other than the worst?”
“im not as weak as you!” he shot back, anger lacing his words.
“that’s not my even my point-” you tried to start before he continued.
“i’ve been doing this long before you even existed, i never thought i would have to report my every action to anyone!” 
“xiao,” you sighed, hands coming up to roughly comb through your hair, “im your-”
he suddenly looks away, eyes alert like something else has grabbed his attention. he hesitantly glances at you and you realize someone must be calling his name. scoffing, your hands drop to your side as you turn away from him, “go.”
“y/n-” he sighed
“you need to go, right? go. ill be…” you loosely gesture to the space around you, “here. so, go.” 
upon finishing up the errand that took him away from you, he now observes as you collect qingxin flowers most likely for a small commission to keep yourself busy. looking at the ground of the mountain top he currently stands, he notices an abundance of qingxin flowers and begins to collect a handful. he wants to apologize, he knows he needs to. it wasn't fair that you were left in the dark and if the situation was reversed, he knows he would’ve gone to the edges of teyvat to find you. 
in the midst of picking a flower, a familiar haze of green smoke flashes before xiao appears in front of you. 
“hi,” you say coolly, continuing to pick flowers while barely giving him so much as a glance, “what are you doing here?”
“i…” he hesitates not knowing how to proceed, “i thought i heard you call my name.” the tips of his ears flush red at his obvious lie.
you hum in acknowledgement, “i didn’t.” 
“oh. well- here.” he thrusts the little bouquet of flowers towards you, “i thought i could help.” 
looking at him and the flowers in surprise, you carefully take the bundle before putting it in your basket, “oh. thank you, that actually helps a lot.” 
turning around to begin your descent down the mountain, xiao follows in silence. 
“y/n, i…” he falters when you look at him, waiting for him to finish his thought. 
his mouth opens and closes, his words failing him.
you sigh and look away for a brief moment before looking back at him with a soft expression, “its okay, xiao. i get it.” 
“i'll do better,” he declares, those three words symbolizing all his thoughts. im sorry. i didn’t mean to. i’ll try harder next time. 
you smile at him for the first time in what he feels like is ages, his shoulders finally relaxing. 
“thank you,” you whisper to him before taking his hand in yours, “y’know, maybe i did call for you.” 
his head snaps to yours, “you did?” 
you look back at him with a teasing glint in your eye, “must’ve been missing you so much that my heart called out for you to hear.” 
cheeks dusted pink, he nods his head in agreement. 
957 notes · View notes
miguel-ohara-eater · 7 months
Text
You like 'em huh?
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(summary: Miguel notices you looking at his muscles after he'd taken a shower, so he uses them.)
CW: rough sex, choking kinda, verstimulation, biting, spitting, slapping, size difference
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"Hey Miggy?" you call out, trying to take the case off of your phone to replace it with the new one he'd bought earlier, bur your nails were too long.
"hm?" he said, walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his hair wet.
"could you help me take this off?" you ask him, luckily still looking down at the phone case cause if you weren't you probably wouldn't have been able to speak
"lemme see." he said, holding out his hand.
you look up, handing him the phone and he sits down on the bed next to you, trying to pick off the phone case.
your eyes nearly popped out of your head and turned into hearts. although you'd seen his body a couple times, it wasn't all the way like this.
you both hadn't even had sex yet, and his body SOO made you want to.
the way his back rippled when his large hands tried to pry the phone and phone case apart, his pecs that were basically tits, his abs, his arms that you wanted him to put you in a headlock in, and his THIGHS.
god his thighs were beefy, thicker than yours even. call yourself cliche but you wanted him to crush your skull in between his thighs like a watermelon, and he probably could.
without even thinking, you reached out and laid your palm against his bicep, causing him to jump a bit.
you took your hand back as he looked at you and raised an eyebrow, probably expecting an explanation.
"sorry." you say, picking at your nails in your lap, your eyes still somewhat on his face but more on his body.
he grinned, setting the phone aside and turning to you a bit.
"you like 'em huh?" he asked, and you looked at him.
"well, duh. your arms look like they could do one karate chop to my back and break it."
he smiled and slid his hand underneath your shirt, his large and rough hand rubbing against the soft skin of your stomach.
"do you need me to break your back?" he asked teasingly, and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
but either way you looked at him wide-eyed, and nodded a little.
"are you gonna?" you ask
"I can." he answered and slid his hand up further, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb against your hard nipple underneath your bra, almost asking permission to take off your clothes.
you nod, and he takes his other hand around the hem of your shirt, lifting up your shirt over your head, taking it off and tossing it onto the floor.
"take all of your clothes off, I'll be back." he says, sitting up and walking into the bathroom.
you take everything off, your bra, panties, and shorts.
feeling a little exposed you wrap your arms around yourself, and then he walks back in.
in his hand is a bottle of lube, and this time he doesn't have the towel around his waist.
your eyea almost pop out of your head and turn into hearts at the size of his dick.
he must've notices or something, because he walked towards you, sitting on the bed in front of you and he wrapped his hand around his cock.
"do you like it?" he teased, sitting on his knees in front of you.
"well, yeah but that's not going to fit Miguel!" you say. not that it was your first time, but it was your first time ever having a dick that big inside of you.
he flicks open the bottle, setting it propped up on a pillow next to you and he crawls on top of you, his cock laid flat against your tummy and he spreads your legs around his waist.
"then we'll make it fit." he smiles, cupping your cheek and turning your head to up to him and he kisses you.
you kiss him back, your hands reaching up into his hair and he reaches over and grabs the lube.
he breaks the kiss, sitting up and putting some on his hand then wrapping his hand around his cock, giving himself a few pumps.
he lowers his cock, rubbing it in between your folds and he kisses the valley of your breasts.
he coats you and himself in the lube combined with your wet slick, and then he sits up again.
"turn over." he demanded, and you did.
turning over onto your stomach, he grabbed a pillow and put it underneath your hips.
he leaned over you, his tip teasing your entrance and he wrapped his thick arm around your neck.
it felt like you were going to snap in half, but that's also what you wanted.
he reached down with his other hand, holding the base of his cock and guiding the tip into you.
you winced as you felt yourself stretch, wincing at the feeling and you buried your face in his arm.
he kissed your head, pushing it in further and trying not to groan since you were uncomfortable.
"you're doing good okay?" he cooed, pushing it in about halfway and staying still for you to adjust.
you whimpered and nodded, adjusting to his size and he smacked your cheek a couple times.
"goood giiirl." he said, talking to you like a dog.
he pushed the rest in, then slowly started to move.
he groaned softly, tightening his grip around your neck.
"so fucking tight..." he grunted, his hips moving at a regular pace now that you've adjusted.
your mouth went slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you reached up and grabbed the headboard, biting down on his arm.
the whole bed was rocking at this point, his massive size fucking you like this was expected to probably break the bed if anything.
his face got faster, and your back arched further. you felt like you were already going to cum but you wanted to cum around the time time he did. whenever that was.
he spat on your cheek, slapping it into your skin as his hips fucked you relentlessly.
"you like that huh? my pretty girl with her eyes rolled back like that hm?" he taunted, whispering in your ear.
he was panting and grunting, which was more than enough to get you off anyways.
you whined, your pussy aching with pleasure and you felt like you could've came any second.
"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-" you moaned out, your orgasm ripping through you.
your ass pressed flush against him as he fucked you through it, his pace stuttering as your walls clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had.
your cum coated his cock, making a thick white ring around his length and he kept fucking you.
"just one more okay? god this pussy is so good." he groaned, slapping your cheek and he kissed behind your ear.
you were seeing white, the slight overstimulation stinging inside of you but it felt so good.
"this pussy is mine." he growled, the headboard slamming against the wall with every one of his thrusts.
your fingernails dug into the sheets and headboard, a bit of drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth.
"say it." he demanded "say this pussy is mine."
you couldn't barely move, let alone talk but you managed.
"i-it's yours-" you whined, feeling another knot tighten in your stomach as he kept going.
he slapped you again. "that's right. and you're gonna take this cock until I'm done okay?"
you nodded slightly, since the only thing you could do was take it anyways.
your swollen clit was pulsing, your body aching for another orgasm.
it spilled out of you for the second time, Miguel not slowing his pace.
a second coat of cum covered his dick and dripped out of your swollen pussy, your walls tightening around his cock.
he groaned, his pace stuttering slightly.
the overstimulation was killing you, your hole pulsing and clenching around him as you squirmed a little.
he tightened his arm around your neck more, his other hand holding you in place.
"just a couple more minutes okay? I'm close baby I'm close." he panted, his cock twitching inside of you.
you were seeing stars, the only sounds coming out of you were whimpers and whines.
next thing you knew you'd came two more times, and he kept saying "one more time?"
"M-Miguel no more-" you whimpered, tears rolling down your cheeks.
you wanted more, but at the same time you didn't.
he'd been edging himself the last two of your orgasms so he nodded
"okay okay okay." he grunted, and with a couple more thrusts his body twitched and a huge load of hot cum spilled inside of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck and he whimpered, his arm loosening around your neck as he just laid on top of you with his softening cock inside of you.
your head flopped against the pillow, and he weakly kissed your cheek.
he pulled out, laying next to you and closed his eyes, panting.
"let's take a shower."
and you nodded.
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(you got good aftercarw dw 😛)
the other one for today will probably be submitted later tonight, I still haven't started it.
I've got baddd adhd and it sucks to pay attention to write these.
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2K notes · View notes
zyafics · 1 month
Text
play fake | part four
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for all your lovely comments and reblogs, i love reading them sm! this one is going to be a long one too, so please enjoy <3
dedication also, this chapter is for @rivaiken iykyk ;)
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.
It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.
Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.
But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.
Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.
The only problem is he doesn't give it back.
Asshole.
You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.
"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.
You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.
Only to realize it was Rafe.
Your smile drops.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.
"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."
"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"
"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."
"Business?"
"No, at my house."
Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."
"You don't even know what it is about."
"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"
His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.
"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."
You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."
"I haven't told you the day yet."
"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.
"I'll pay you."
"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."
Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?
"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"
You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.
You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.
Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.
"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"
You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."
His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"
Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."
He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.
"I remember you were begging for it."
You slap him.
It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.
Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."
His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.
You were going to drive each other insane.
And some sick part of you liked it.
"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."
"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."
"We never said that in our relationship."
"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."
You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.
"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."
He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.
"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."
For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"
"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"
To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.
He remains silent.
You continue.
"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."
You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.
Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.
"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.
"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."
He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.
As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.
About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.
About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.
Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.
Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.
"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."
You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.
A notification flashes at the top of your screen.
topperthornton: hey
Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?
you: hello?
He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.
you: why?
topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn
you: so i heard
topperthornton: well, you should come
you: i don't think so, white boy
topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u
Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.
you: ?? for what
You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.
You hate it.
topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u
You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.
topperthornton: u need to come immediately
Fucking hell.
You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy. 
You have to go.
There's no other way around it.
Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.
It's Pope.
"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"
"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.
"Everything okay?"
"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."
Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."
"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"
He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."
You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.
When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.
Topper spots you at the porch.
"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."
You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.
"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"
"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."
You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."
Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.
You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.
You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.
Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.
When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.
You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.
He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.
"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."
"I thought you said you had a double shift."
He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.
"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.
Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.
His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"
You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.
You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.
"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."
His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"
"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."
Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.
"I thought you needed help."
Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."
You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.
"Come here."
You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.
"I know something that would make me feel better."
You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"
"Sit on my lap."
You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.
Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.
"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.
"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."
You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.
"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."
You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."
"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."
You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.
You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.
The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.
"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"
He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."
His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.
You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.
"Don't do that."
"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."
"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."
"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."
He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.
"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."
You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.
This is done in complete silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."
You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.
"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."
He still doesn't get it.
You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."
His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.
"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."
You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.
"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."
"Easier said than done, darling."
Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.
He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.
You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"
"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."
You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.
When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.
It was easiest to talk to you.
It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.
Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.
And he used that to his advantage.
You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.
You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.
"God, your dad is a dick."
Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.
"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"
"I know what you mean."
That came out with an edge.
You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.
"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.
Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.
"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."
Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."
The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.
"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."
"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."
He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.
"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."
You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.
"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."
Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"
He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.
"Turn around."
Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.
"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.
"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."
Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.
You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.
Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.
"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."
His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"
"I look at you as I do."
A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.
You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.
And he's watching.
"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.
"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."
Fuck, Rafe thought.
With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.
"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.
You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.
"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."
When he truly means to stop torturing him.
You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.
A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.
And he's fucking hard.
Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it. 
"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"
"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."
Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.
"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him. 
"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."
He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.
You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.
Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"
You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"
He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.
It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.
He has enough.
"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."
He's bargaining, goddammit.
A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.
Rafe growls out your name.
You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.
"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."
You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"
He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."
"My pleasure, right, baby?"
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."
You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.
"You can touch me."
Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.
"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.
"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."
"It doesn't feel good, does it?"
Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."
You provoke further. "You love it."
He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.
"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.
"Feels good?"
"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."
Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"
He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.
"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."
Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.
"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby."
Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm. 
"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."
You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.
"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."
"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."
You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber. 
— read part five —
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