heavensenteden

[heavensenteden]

✎ the art of submission | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

ahh hello hello everyone!! i have another work to bestow upon you all!

this one was based off a request from @1heartsubm1ssivemen and is fully dedicated to them <3 (biggest brain ever fr)

we have subby sol crying and being edged while the mc paints him, what more could you ask for?

i will singlehandedly keep tkatb fandom alive with my submissive sol agenda

anyways enjoy all ;D

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63701095

word count: 2409

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐

cw: vibrators, orgasm control/denial, crying, sub!sol, overstimulation

🍀˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

"Thanks for coming over at the last minute, Sol."

You flash him a small smile as you step aside, letting him into your humble studio apartment. The air inside is warm, carrying the faint scent of paint and something a little sweeter, maybe the remnants of the earl grey tea you had earlier.

Solivan steps in hesitantly, hands stuffed deep in his hoodie pockets, eyes flickering over the scattered art supplies and the half-finished canvases leaning against the walls. His usual guarded expression softens slightly, at being in such a comfortable place.

"It’s no problem," he mutters, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

"You said you needed help with a project?" 

You hum in confirmation, closing the door behind him with a click. "Mhm. I’m working on a new piece, but I need a muse."

His brows knit together in confusion. "A muse?"

"Yep." You grab his wrist gently, tugging him deeper into the room. 

"You’d be perfect for it. Just trust me."

He hesitates, shifting uncomfortably as you lead him toward the seemingly innocent chair positioned in the center of the studio space.

"I... I dunno if I’m really the ‘muse’ type," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You tilt your head, studying him with a slow, knowing smile.

"Oh, I think you’ll do just fine."

His throat bobs in a nervous swallow.

You squeeze his wrist, thumb brushing over his skin in a way that’s almost soothing.

Almost.

"You trust me, don’t you, Sol?"

A pause. A breath. His fingers twitch slightly at his sides.

"...Yeah. I do."

Your smile widens.

"Good. Then sit down."

He obeys.

-

"Stay still."

Your voice is firm, carrying the weight of an order rather than a request. Solivan shudders, his knuckles turning white where they grip the arms of the chair. His lips part like he wants to speak, to protest, but he knows better. He swallows hard instead, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights to regulate his breathing.

The soft hum of the speaker playing classical music in your studio is the only sound aside from his sharp, shaky breaths and whimpers.

The canvas before you is barely touched, only primed, your brush hovering in the air as you study him, the way his body trembles, the way his thighs quiver from restraint. 

He’s so desperate already, and you haven’t even started painting yet.

The dildo beneath him is merciless, pressing deep into his ass as it vibrates, and with every tiny movement and shift of his hips it brushes right against his sweet spot. You can tell he’s trying his best to stay still, to obey you, but the tension in his muscles betrays him.

 

His cock is achingly hard, flushed red, twitching against the tight grip of the cock ring. His nipples, adorned with delicate metal clamps, are stiff and oversensitive.

You dip your brush into a little bit of paint and drag it lazily across the canvas. The sound of the bristles gliding against the surface fills the air, mingling with Sol’s hitched gasps.

"You're tensing up again, Sol," you chide, not even looking at him. 

"A good muse wouldn’t move so much."

A sharp whimper escapes him, and his nails dig into the chair as the vibrations make all his thoughts disappear. His body wants to arch, wants to grind down, wants friction, wants release, but he knows he can’t. Not without permission from you.

"P-please..." His voice is fragile, barely more than a whisper, laced with need, frustration, desperation.

You finally glance up from the canvas, eyes dragging over his trembling form, over the glistening precum pooling at the tip of his neglected cock. You smile.

"Oh, sweetheart... you’re already making such a mess."

His breath shudders, eyes hazy, clouded with a mix of shame and unbearable pleasure.

"But we’re not done yet."

You tap your brush against the rim of your paint cup, tilting your head as you study him.

Solivan’s breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling like he’s run a marathon. He’s trying so desperately to obey, to be the good little muse you expect him to be. But his body betrays him, twitching, trembling, leaking, his restraint hanging on by a fragile thread.

You continue painting, calm, unaffected, letting him sit before you desperately. The wet slide of the brush against the canvas fills the air, a reminder of your current task.

Solivan shifts just slightly, and the dildo beneath him sinks deeper into him.

A choked moan tears from his throat, his body jerking before he catches himself, barely holding still. His fingers dig into the chair, thighs trembling so violently they might give out at any moment. His cock twitches, drooling against the unrelenting grip of the cock ring.

You set the brush down.

His breath hitches, like he knows what’s coming.

Your feet, in quick smooth steps, carry you toward him. He refuses to meet your eyes, his head tilted forward, jaw clenched so tight it’s a wonder he hasn’t cracked his teeth.

You tut softly, reaching out to trace a single finger down his chest, dragging across his stomach, then circling one of the sensitive clamps on his nipple. You want on the chain that connects them, ever so slightly, and Sol bows forward, a moan, a loud cry escaping his lips. 

You let go, your hands trailing along his neck, his shoulders, and finally along his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you lift his chin up.

Sol shudders, a pathetic little whimper spilling from his lips.

"Look at you," you murmur, admiring the way his skin is burning, the way his body is vibrating under your touch. "I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already falling apart."

He whimpers again, hips twitching forward on instinct, as if hoping for just the tiniest bit of friction. 

"Do you want something, Sol?" you ask, your tone deceptively sweet.

He nods frantically, but it’s not enough. You grip his chin, tilting his face up to yours, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen from how hard he’s been biting them, and his cheeks have lines of stray tears from how long he’d been edged by you.

"Use your words, sweetheart."

His breath stutters.

"P-please... I c-can’t... I need—"

You hum, letting your fingers trail lower, ghosting over his cock, not touching, just hovering. His body jerks, his legs spread wider in pure instinct, desperate for more, desperate for anything.

"You need what?" you press, enjoying the way he trembles, so close to breaking.

"Need to c-cum," he whispers, voice wrecked, ruined.

Your smirk is merciless.

"And what happens to bad little muses who don’t follow directions?"

His breath catches. His thighs squeeze together. A whine spills from his throat, because he knows.

You lean in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice a hushed purr,

"They don’t get to cum at all."

And just like that, the last of his composure shatters.

A sob wracks through him, his body jerking violently, hips rolling down onto the dildo despite himself, his cock twitching helplessly, but the ring keeps him trapped in unbearable agony, unable to release.

"Ah-ah," you tease, pulling back to admire his wrecked, ruined, pitiful state. His skin is flushed, his entire body shaking, his mouth open in a silent cry of frustration.

"Tsk," you sigh, dragging your fingers down his trembling thigh. "I was going to be nice and let you have your reward soon, but now? I think I’ll take my time."

He whimpers again, desperate, frantic, pleading— but he belongs to you. And you decide when this ends.

Not him.

Never him.

Solivan whimpers, his breath coming in shaky, broken gasps. His body is twitching, every muscle screaming with exhaustion, pleasure sharp and unbearable, but you’re not done yet.

Not even close.

"Oh, sweetheart," you coo, tilting your head as you trace a lazy finger down his flushed, heaving chest. "I thought you wanted to cum?"

His thighs clench at the words, his whole body recoiling with need, but that cock ring? It won’t let him. He physically can’t, no matter how much his body begs for it.

And that’s the best part.

You drag a chair closer, settling in right between his trembling legs, your gaze fixated on how pitifully his cock is twitching, leaking, throbbing, desperate for anything, any kind of friction.

"I guess I could be kind," you muse, reaching for a small pink vibrator on the table. "But I think I’d rather see how much more you can take."

Sol’s eyes go wide.

He barely has time to whimper out a plea before you press the vibrator flush against the head of his cock.

He screams.

Not a loud, sharp scream, but one of pure, strangled, wrecked pleasure, the kind that forces his body to convulse, his hands clenched into fists, his hips jolting upward as if trying to run from the sensation while also chasing it.

But he can’t run.

Not from you at least.

He’s trapped between the cock ring, the dildo pressing deeper inside him as it softly vibrates, and the relentless buzzing against his swollen, overstimulated tip.

His entire body is shaking.

"N-No—! I c-can’t—!" His voice is hoarse, whiny, cracking on every syllable, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

You just smile.

"Can’t?" You tilt your head, pressing the vibrator harder against him.

His back arches violently.

"You were so eager to cum a moment ago," you tease, watching the way his thighs twitch uncontrollably. "What happened?"

A helpless sob tears from his throat. His whole body convulses, hips bucking in jerky, uncontrollable movements, but it’s not enough. He’s aching, pulsing, so close he could die.

"P-Please—!" he chokes out, voice completely wrecked, barely even coherent.

"Please what?" you murmur, dragging the vibrator down, tracing it along his shaft, watching the way his legs shake, his breath hitched in desperate, pleading sobs.

"P-Please—! Let me—! I can’t— I can’t—!"

His head falls back, mouth hanging open, drool pooling at the corners of his lips. His entire body is trembling, so fucked out, so completely destroyed by the pleasure that he can’t even speak properly.

"Awww," you coo, watching him fall apart. "You're crying, sweetheart."

And he is.

Tears are streaming down his flushed cheeks, his body helplessly shaking, his cock throbbing violently under the relentless vibration. His legs twitch, spasming from pure overstimulation, every nerve in his body burning with unbearable pleasure.

"You look so pretty like this," you sigh, finally reaching out to stroke a gentle hand through his damp, and dark, sweat-matted hair. "My perfect little muse."

And then, with an almost bored tone, you whisper to him sweetly,

"Cum for me."

The moment you slip the cock ring off,

Solivan shatters.

His entire body convulses, hips bucking wildly, a loud, wrecked moan tearing from his throat as he finally, finally spills over himself.

It’s messy, violent, overwhelming, his orgasm crashing into him like a tidal wave, his breath hitching between sobs and broken moans, his legs twitching, body completely wrung out as he just keeps cumming and cumming, his overstimulated nerves on fire.

And you?

You watch in awe.

Completely composed, calm, tilting your head in mock curiosity as he loses himself completely.

His thighs are still twitching long after the last of his release dribbles down his spent cock, and his chest is rising and falling in frantic, exhausted gasps.

You hum softly, dipping your brush into the mess of cum on his stomach, swirling it lazily before turning back to the canvas.

"I think I’ll call this piece… 'Ruined.'"

Solivan whimpers, his body utterly wrecked, his breath shaky, weak, and you know…

He’s never going to be the same again.

His body is still twitching from the aftershocks, his chest rising and falling in uneven, gasping breaths. His legs feel boneless, limp, completely useless beneath him, and his arms have long since given up on holding himself up. He slumps back in the chair, head lolling to the side, eyes glassy, unfocused, barely present.

A few stray tears still cling to his lashes, his lips parted in breathless exhaustion, his skin warm and damp with sweat.

And you?

You finally set the brush down, stepping back to admire your work, not just the painting, but him.

Absolutely wrecked, ruined, beautiful in his undoing.

But now? Now it's time to put him back together.

"You did so well, sweetheart," you murmur, your voice softer now, soothing as you cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb.

Solivan whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch, his body instinctively leaning into your warmth, like he’s seeking comfort, craving the tenderness he was denied for so long.

"Shhh… it's okay. I’ve got you," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple before carefully undoing the clamps on his overstimulated, sensitive nipples.

A small hiss escapes him, his body flinching at the sensation, but you’re quick to soothe him, rubbing soft circles against his chest, murmuring quiet praises into his skin.

"You were perfect for me," you hum, tracing your fingers down his trembling stomach, over the sticky mess still clinging to his skin.

His cheeks flush, and he tries to shift, squirming weakly, embarrassed, but his body is too drained, too exhausted to even move properly.

"Don’t move, baby," you chide gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his jaw. "Let me take care of you."

He lets out a small, whimpering sound, but he nods. He trusts you.

You grab a warm, damp towel, carefully wiping away the mess, your touch gentle, precise, never rushing.

Every time he flinches, you slow down. Every time he whimpers, you whisper sweet reassurances

"You did so good for me, love."

"You're so beautiful when you let go like that."

"I’ve got you. I’ll always take care of you."

By the time you finish cleaning him up, Solivan is half-asleep, completely pliant in your hands, his head resting against your shoulder.

You smile, pressing a final kiss to his forehead before wrapping him in a soft, warm blanket, pulling him close to cradle him against your chest.

He sighs, content, safe, loved.

And in the quiet hum of the studio, with the scent of paint still lingering in the air, you simply hold him, the masterpiece you created, now resting in your arms.

🍀˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ permission denied | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

i finally bestow upon my children, a Caleb fic from LaDS

honestly this man has taken over my fyp and has been consuming my mind for the better part of a month so why not write about him being mean, nasty, filthy? obviously!

anyways, this one is dedicated to my wife, my love, my life, my best friend, who proofreads all my smut and sends me Caleb edits as motivation <3 i love you the mostest!

hehe enjoy <3

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63677899

word count: 5562

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐

cw: spanking, degrading, fingering, dom!caleb

🍎˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Caleb sat in the dim glow of his apartment, the panoramic window casting streaks of starlight across the room. Beyond the glass, the endless expanse of the night sky glittered in silence, indifferent to the restless hum of his mind. 

The untouched cup of coffee in his hand had long since gone cold, its rich aroma doing nothing to ground him. He swirled it absentmindedly, the liquid shifting with each tilt of his wrist, though his gaze remained distant, focused somewhere far past the stars.

The hour was late, but sleep never came easy after missions like these. Reports filed, gear cleaned, squad dismissed... yet his thoughts refused to quiet. 

Even here, alone in the calm sterility of his apartment, that gnawing tension lingered just beneath the surface. A tightness in his chest. An itch under his skin that no amount of protocol or precision could fix.

And, as always, the reason for that tension was you.

He knew exactly where you'd been, off gallivanting through the lower districts despite his explicit warning to stay put after the recent disturbances. 

Alone.

 Vulnerable. 

After everything you'd been through together, after every danger he'd shielded you from, you still found ways to test his patience.

The sleek holo-clock on the wall flickered "01:46" in pale blue digits. 

Far too late. 

Far past the time you should’ve been home and curled safely in his arms.

Caleb exhaled slowly through his nose, setting the mug down with a muted clink against the metal table. His gloved fingers tapped rhythmically at his temple, calculating... waiting... trying, and failing, to talk himself down from the slow burn of irritation heating his veins.

But then, footsteps echoed faintly in the corridor. Soft, steady, growing closer.

He didn’t bother looking toward the door as the scanner of the door chirped and the front door swung open with minimal noise. 

He knew it was you. Of course it was. The one person capable of unraveling his carefully maintained composure.

You entered with a bright, breathless smile, oblivious to the weight of his gaze pressing heavily from where he sat across the room. 

Your arms were laden with small bags, little souvenirs and trinkets from whatever reckless venture had kept you out at this hour. 

The faint rustle of packaging, the faintest trace of your sweet apple scented perfume– courtesy of Caleb, as you crossed the floor into the living room where he was seated... it should’ve soothed him. 

But it didn’t.

Not tonight.

Not after you deliberately disobeyed him.

Caleb leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with practiced ease, watching silently as you finally noticed him. His dark hair caught the low light, his icy stare following your every move.

"You're late," he said, voice low and measured, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it. 

"Care to explain why?"

The air in the room shifted.

And for the first time since you'd walked through that door, you realized exactly how much trouble you were in.

“I–I..”

Your words came out as stutters. Caleb clicked his tongue dismissively.

“Come here, now.”

You do as you're told.

 Of course you do.

The moment his words hit the air, your cheerful stride falters, coming to an abrupt, awkward stop. Whatever lighthearted greeting you’d been about to give dies on your lips, your smile dropping into a confused little pout.

“Caleb, what’s—”

“Silence,” he cuts in, his voice low and deliberate. Each syllable is sharp as a blade.

He doesn't even spare you a full glance, his pale eyes locked somewhere over your shoulder like he's already lost patience. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he gestures to the floor at his feet.

“Here. Now.”

Your pulse stutters. The bags you’d been carrying slip from your hands, forgotten, left beside one of the sleek couches as you carefully approach. You don't question him. You wouldn't dare, not when he's like this.

The floor is cool beneath your knees as you settle in front of him, head bowed, eyes fixed on the polished toes of his boots reflecting the ambient glow of the room.

Silence stretches between you like a tightrope, every second weighted, every breath feeling just a bit too loud. 

Caleb observes you for a moment, his expression unreadable. You can feel his gaze tracing over you, cataloging your obedience... and your nerves.

It takes every ounce of his discipline not to smirk at the way you're already trying to appease him, small and quiet at his feet. But this isn’t the time for indulgence.

He finishes the last sip of his coffee with practiced ease, setting the cup aside as though you aren’t trembling before him. The only hint of his mood lies in the tight set of his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders.

And then, finally, he speaks.

"I'm a patient man. Wouldn't you agree?"

The question stands heavy in the air. You nod quickly, voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, Sir."

"I provide for you. Protect you. Give you everything you could ever need." Another pause. 

"Without hesitation."

"Yes, Sir..."

He exhales slowly through his nose, the sound laced with disappointment. 

You feel it before he even moves, the shift in the atmosphere as he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs, his gloved hand reaching out to brush against your cheek.

At first, it's gentle. Soft fingertips tracing along your jaw, a tender touch meant to disarm.

And then his grip tightens, firm and unyielding, forcing you to lift your gaze to meet his. His icy irises glow faintly under the ambient lights, sharp and unforgiving.

"Then explain something to me." 

His thumb presses into your cheek, holding you in place. "Why have you been testing my patience so much lately?"

You swallow hard, lips parting to answer, but nothing comes out.

"Hmm?" he presses.

“Out past curfew. Ignoring direct instructions. Putting yourself in danger when you know very well what’s lurking beyond the safe zones."

Your heart races. "I'm... I'm sorry, Sir."

Caleb clicks his tongue, shaking his head slowly. He guides your head with his grip, side to side, making the denial clear.

"Sorry won’t fix disobedience," he murmurs.

"And you’ve lost the privilege of casual endearments tonight. No 'darling.' No 'daddy.' Not until you've earned them back."

Your breath catches, his words settling heavily in your stomach, shame curling in your gut.

"You will address me as Sir." Another pause. "Or Master, if you're feeling particularly desperate to please."

The butterflies in your chest turn frantic.

"Now," he continues, his voice lowering even more, smooth and commanding. "You're clever. I know you remember what I told you the last time you pulled a stunt like this."

But faced with his intense gaze, your mind blanks. Words scatter. All you can do is kneel there, breath shallow, nerves crackling beneath your skin.

Caleb notices immediately. Of course he does.

The disappointment in his eyes sharpens. "Oh? Nothing to say?" He clicks his tongue again, slowly shaking his head. "Disobedient and forgetful. That's not like you."

And just like that, the atmosphere shifts again.

Punishment is inevitable now.

“I said, tell me.”

His gloved fingers tighten around your cheeks, squishing them together until your lips pucker pathetically. The cold leather bites into your skin just enough to make your breath hitch, his words slow and steady, as if you’re some disobedient recruit who still hasn't learned how to follow simple orders.

A soft whimper escapes before you manage to force out the words, voice trembling.

"You said... I had to prove to you that I could be a good girl."

Your gaze flickers up to meet his, throat tight, and for just a moment you swear there's the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in those pale, purple eyes.

“That’s right."

Caleb releases your face with a dismissive shove, sending you back a few inches on your knees. It’s barely a push, but somehow it feels like miles of distance opening between you, like you've fallen further out of his favor than you realized.

"And yet," he continues, voice smooth as steel, "that pretty little mind of yours didn’t seem to be working when you decided to disobey me earlier today as well."

Your hands fidget nervously in your lap, fingers twisting together as the burn behind your eyes threatens to spill over. You lower your gaze, focusing on the polished floor beneath you, tracing the faint grain pattern that reflects from the ambient lighting in the hardwood.

You pray he doesn't notice the way your thighs subtly press together.

But of course he does.

"And after I explicitly told you not to test me during official duties..."

The sharp snap of his fingers next to your ear makes you flinch. You instinctively look back up, wide-eyed, heart racing.

"You thought it was wise to waltz into my briefing, wearing that indecent little outfit, making a spectacle of yourself in front of my superiors, while I’m standing beside them, no less?" His words drip with incredulity, each syllable laced with that cold, cutting disappointment that stings more than any physical punishment ever could.

"I—I'm sorry, Sir," you stammer. 

"I thought... I thought you'd like it. You’re always so busy and I— I just missed you. I wasn’t trying to cause trouble, I swear."

For a fleeting second, his lips curve into something resembling a smile. But there's no warmth behind it, only condescension.

"Aw, you poor thing," Caleb coos, the mockery in his tone impossible to miss. "Miss me so much you had to act like a spoiled brat to get my attention?"

Your lip trembles as the words tumble out. "I really am sorry... I promise I'll behave. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

But Caleb only exhales slowly, settling back into his chair like he has all the time in the galaxy to watch you squirm.

The faint hum of the night outside the window is the only sound as he drapes one arm over the chair’s armrest, leaning his temple lazily against his fist.

His other hand works methodically, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform with practiced ease, exposing the strong lines of his forearms. His coat is discarded over the couch. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes as he tilts his head, looking down at you with nothing short of predatory intent.

It’s the look of a man who’s decided exactly how this night is going to end.

"You think batting your lashes and shedding a few tears will get you out of this?" he asks, voice low and almost amused. "You couldn’t even manage a few days without breaking my rules... and now you expect forgiveness?"

A quiet scoff escapes him as he shakes his head.

"No. That’s not how this works."

His gaze hardens, and so does his voice.

"You've been a very, very bad girl. And honestly..." He pauses, tilting his head slightly as if considering the next blow carefully.

"I don't even think you've earned the right to be called my little pipsqueak anymore."

Without thinking, you shook your head, eyes wide and pleading, desperation shining like twin stars as you looked up at him.

"Please, Sir... I didn't mean—"

But Caleb merely arched a brow, unimpressed by your weak protest.

You knew exactly what you’d done. The interruption. The dress, a disgracefully short, revealing thing you wore just to get under his skin. Testing the boundaries of his orders with that infuriating little smirk, trying to see how far you could push him before he'd finally snap.

And now? You'd succeeded.

Only, you hadn't expected it to go this far.

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable.

Too much cold air, too much space, and none of his touch grounding you. Your palms felt clammy, fingertips twitching to reach out and close the gap.

You just wanted him. His warmth. His scent. To rewind to the comfort of this morning, when his arms were draped around you, his lips pressed to your forehead as you drifted awake to the faint musk of him.

But there was no reaching for him now. You were already skating on thin ice, and one wrong move would send you plunging into the freezing void beneath.

"Stop whining," Caleb said, voice cutting clean through your spiraling thoughts. "This isn't the first time you've pulled something like this. You think it’s all some amusing little game, don’t you?"

You swallowed hard, shrinking further under his gaze.

"But I'm not laughing. Which means you're going to have to work very hard to get back on my good side. Understood?"

You nodded quickly, biting down on your trembling lip, forcing yourself to keep your composure even as the burn in your chest intensified.

He watched you carefully, pale eyes gleaming with restrained authority. "From now on... you don’t touch me. You don’t kiss me. You don’t get me, unless you earn it."

Your heart twisted, painfully.

"If you want anything, you will beg like your life depends on it. You will obey me."

It hurt. Stars, it hurts. Your nails dug into your palms as you struggled not to cry, the ache spreading through your chest like wildfire.

And yet... you loved this. Loved the chase. Loved being brought to your knees and shown exactly how small you could be under his control. Loved knowing that after all the punishment, you'd get the chance to prove yourself, show him just how good you could be.

And so, you surrendered.

"I promise, Sir. I promise."

"Good."

The word rolled off his tongue like a reward. Soft, satisfied, final.

"Now, up here," Caleb commanded, patting his thigh gently.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, relief blooming like warmth in your chest. Maybe... maybe this was over. Maybe if you climbed into his lap, you'd get to bury your face into his neck, cling to him, apologize until he finally forgave you.

You moved to straddle him, ready to tuck yourself against his body like always.

But Caleb stopped you with a firm hand pressed to your shoulder, the cool leather grounding you as his lips curved into a cruel, knowing smirk.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone almost sing-song, dripping with mockery. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?"

The fleeting hope you felt shattered instantly.

"No. We're far from done."

He leaned in close, his voice brushing your ear like a low, dangerous purr.

"You wanted my attention so badly today... flashing that little dress around, putting on a show like some needy little thing..." His fingers traced the hem of your skirt, slow and taunting. "Now’s your chance to give me the full view."

Your breath caught as you nodded, throat tight.

"Yes, Sir."

With trembling hands, you gathered the fabric of your skirt, lifting it until the cool air licked at your exposed skin. Goosebumps erupted along your thighs, not from the temperature, but from the weight of his gaze, sharp and possessive as it dragged over every inch of you.

Carefully, you lowered yourself over his lap, your chest pressed against the arm of his chair, cheek resting on the cool surface.

Vulnerable.

Waiting.

The silence hung heavy. Anticipation coiled tight in your belly.

And somewhere in the quiet, you realized...

This was exactly what you’d wanted all along.

“Good,” Caleb murmured, his praise rolling off his tongue like silk, cool and sweet. “Isn’t it nice when you finally learn how to behave?”

"Yes, Sir," you breathed instantly, clinging to the approval like it was oxygen.

A satisfied hum rumbled low in his throat. His gloved fingers dragged slowly down the curve of your spine, lingering at the small of your back as if admiring the sight of you laid out and trembling across his lap.

"I’m going to whip you into shape," he said, voice calm and final, as though the decision had been made long ago. "And you’re going to thank me for every last second of it."

You nodded, already dizzy from anticipation.

"I want to hear you count. Every. Single. One."

“Yes, Sir.”

“And if you lose track?” Caleb’s grip suddenly snapped tight on the waistband of your panties, yanking them harshly upward until the fabric dug into your skin.

Threads strained, the elastic biting between your cheeks, and the sound that escaped you, a broken, high-pitched whimper, was met with a sharp, stinging slap across your exposed skin.

You jolted forward, hands gripping the armrest to steady yourself.

"Already misbehaving again?" Caleb asked coolly, like he was truly disappointed you couldn't make it through five minutes without slipping.

"N-no, please! I'm sorry!" you gasped, your voice trembling as the sting bloomed across your skin. "T-that was… ah! One."

"Good girl," he praised, his tone barely above a murmur. "Keep that up and you just might earn a reward."

The words settled warm and heavy in your chest, even as his hand came down again, and again. Caleb set a punishing rhythm, his palm connecting with your sensitive skin in precise, alternating strikes, each one harder than the last. The sound echoed through the quiet room, the harsh slaps reverberating off the walls of his apartment's living room.

And over it all, your voice. Fragile, shaking, counting through each burning impact, your moans catching between the numbers.

By the time you passed thirty, your brain had already started to drift. The edges of your vision blurred with heat, your body damp with sweat, muscles trembling beneath the relentless onslaught.

The room felt hazy, like floating in zero-gravity, weightless and warm and entirely at his mercy. Your hands clutched the chair's upholstery, toes curling against the floor, every nerve ending on fire in the best possible way.

Caleb, ever composed, watched your reactions with sharp, calculating eyes. Even as his palm grew red and sore from the repeated strikes, he never faltered. Never lost pace. Never gave you more than you could handle... but just enough to have you falling apart for him.

At sixty, he finally paused, shaking the ache from his hand before smoothing his palm gently over your raw, overheated skin. The contrast made you shiver, the soft touch against the burn drawing a helpless sigh from your lips as you collapsed further into the chair.

"You’re doing so well for me," Caleb murmured, his voice quieter now, laced with something dangerously close to affection. "My perfect girl... but surely you're not done, are you?"

Tears welled in your eyes, streaming silently down your cheeks. You nodded weakly, the words barely making it past your lips.

"I'm okay, Sir… I can keep going."

A rare smile flickered over his lips, small but satisfied.

"That’s what I like to hear."

With slow precision, he let the ruined fabric of your panties snap back before peeling them down to your knees. He barely stifled a pleased hum when he caught sight of the evidence of your arousal, slick and shimmering, staining the delicate material.

"Oh?" Caleb’s brow lifted as his fingers dipped between your thighs, collecting the wetness there with cruel ease. "So worked up you’re practically dripping."

The quiet gasp you gave when his fingers grazed through your folds nearly broke him, but Caleb held steady. He stroked through the mess you’d made of yourself, teasing just enough to leave you shaking, never quite giving you the pressure you so desperately craved.

Nimble fingers circled your clit in slow, methodical passes, gathering more of your slick only to pull back and admire the strands glistening between his fingers.

"Stars above," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "Look at you... making a mess all over me. How pathetic."

Your hips rocked subtly, seeking more friction, chasing his touch even as you whimpered his name.

But then, he withdrew.

Just like that.

And you were left empty, aching, desperate for the heat of his palm, the steady press of his fingers, the grounding weight of his body against yours.

Caleb chuckled softly, wiping his fingers clean on your ruined panties before discarding them to the floor.

"Oh no, darling," he said, leaning in close, lips brushing your ear as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "You don't get to come just yet."

Caleb groaned under his breath, the sound low and strained, as the sharp ache in his slacks finally registered, painful, unrelenting, and entirely your fault. Shifting beneath your weight only made it worse, the heat of your body pressed to his thighs, your scent clouding his senses like a drug. His jaw clenched. His pulse spiked.

Stars above, he wanted to lose himself inside you.

Wanted to pin you beneath him, fold you in half, and spend the entire night devouring you like you were the only thing keeping him alive. To bury his face between your thighs until all you could do was sob his name, echoing through his apartment loud enough for all of Linkon to hear.

But no.

He had time. And you hadn't earned that reward yet.

"Remember what I told you," Caleb scolded, his hands tightening on your hips like restraints, holding you exactly where he wanted you. "If you want something from me... you're going to have to beg for it."

“Yes, Sir... please," you pant out, voice trembling, wrecked beyond repair. "I wanna cum... need you so bad. Please make me feel good, please."

But Caleb only gave a low chuckle, unimpressed.

"Oh, darling," he drawled. "You can do better than that."

Without warning, his palm snapped sharply against your cunt, the sound of the slap obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You cried out, hips jerking, legs instinctively trying to close. Caleb was faster. His strong grip forced you open, spreading you wider across his lap, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

"Ah, ah," he tsked, shaking his head as he delivered another punishing slap to your swollen, soaked pussy. The wet, slick sound of it was filthy, music to his ears. "I told you to beg. If you want me to make you cum, convince me you deserve it."

Another slap.

And another.

Each one driving you higher, past the point of embarrassment, until all that was left was the need clawing through you like fire.

“Please! Please, Sir, please—" your voice cracked, raw and desperate. "I wanna cum! Please make me cum, I’ll be good, I swear! I just wanna be your good girl again, please, please!”

Caleb finally groaned, deep and guttural, his restraint unraveling at the sight of you trembling and dripping for him, tears streaking your cheeks, lips wobbling as you fought to hold yourself together.

"That's my girl."

And just like that, the ruined scraps of your panties hit the floor, and he dragged you fully into his lap, straddling his hips. Your slick smeared across his uniform, staining the dark fabric as you shifted against him, chasing any friction you could get.

He cupped your face with both hands, tilting your head back so you couldn’t hide from him. His thumbs brushed away your tears, cool and steady, grounding you as his lips captured yours in a slow, sloppy kiss.

"Shh," Caleb whispered between kisses, his breath warm against your skin. "I know. You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?"

He kissed you again, your cheeks, your jaw, the curve of your neck, his lips lingering like he had all the time in the universe to ruin you properly.

One hand slid down your body, pausing to toy with the soft flesh of your stomach before drifting lower, fingers dipping between your thighs with unbearable slowness.

Your muscles twitched under his touch, every nerve lit up and waiting.

"Keep your eyes on me," Caleb ordered, his voice smooth as steel. "I want to see every second of that pretty little face falling apart for me."

You nodded, barely able to hold your gaze on him, eyelids heavy and fluttering as exhaustion started tugging at the edges of your mind.

Still, you managed to brace yourself on either side of his head, fingers buried in the cushion behind him as you held yourself upright, trembling from the effort.

And Caleb... stars, Caleb looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the galaxy.

Then, at last, his fingers moved, slowly at first, dragging through your soaked folds, gathering the slick that dripped from you like sweet honey.

Your breath hitched as his touch lingered over your clit, circling, teasing, never quite giving you what you wanted. The soft, steady rhythm he kept was maddening. Intoxicating.

And as you moaned softly against his lips, breath hot and sweet, Caleb felt the tight coil of desire winding in his own body, hotter than any star.

Nothing in his life, not the power of his position, not the safety of the galaxy, could compare to the way you looked right now.

Ruined.

Begging.

Perfectly his.

Caleb’s fingers pumped steadily into you, smooth and unrelenting, each thrust purposeful, curling just right to drag desperate sounds from your throat. Your hips rocked instinctively, grinding your clit against the heel of his palm in perfect rhythm, chasing the friction that had your pulse stuttering and your lungs failing.

Across from you, Caleb watched intently, lips parted, breath shallow, his cool, calculating gaze now glazed over with something far more primal. For all his control, for all his discipline, the weight of you shifting over his lap, soaking through his uniform as you fell apart on his fingers, nearly pushed him past the edge of his composure.

And god, he loved it.

“Sir… can I—” you gasped, voice catching on a sob. “C-can I kiss you? Touch you? Please—”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, low and rough. "One or the other," he said, voice tight as the pressure between his own legs grew unbearable. "No sense in getting greedy now."

Without hesitation, you leaned forward and captured his lips in a messy, needy kiss, tasting the faint bitterness of his coffee still lingering on his tongue.

He drank down every moan you gave him, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he couldn’t stand the thought of you pulling away.

Your thighs trembled violently, exhaustion burning through your muscles, but you kept grinding down, desperate for the inevitable release just out of reach.

Caleb's smirk ghosted over your lips, and then his fingers shifted, pressing deep into that spot he knew made you absolutely unravel.

"That's it," he murmured against your mouth, watching your expression break into something raw and perfect. Tears welled at the corners of your eyes, clumping your lashes, your breaths coming out in thin, shaky whines.

You were almost there.

And just when you thought he'd let you ride it out on your own, Caleb pulled back. He broke the kiss with a soft pop, a thin string of spit snapping between you as he cupped your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw. The pressure was firm, grounding, possessive.

“Cum for me," he ordered quietly, his gaze locked on yours. "Be my good girl and cum. Right now."

It didn’t even take a second thought.

Your orgasm tore through you like a shockwave, white-hot and blinding. It felt like drifting, weightless, untethered, soaring through space with only Caleb’s hand holding you down, keeping you from shattering into stardust.

You sobbed his name as you came, voice ragged and high, the sound echoing softly through his home. He didn’t stop, his fingers kept working you through it, relentless until you were nothing but tremors and broken whispers, your vision swimming and body limp in his arms.

When it was over, you collapsed forward, your head resting heavily against his chest, completely boneless.

Your breathing came in shallow gasps, your mind lost somewhere in the haze. Caleb let out a quiet chuckle, his gloved hand stroking slowly up and down your back as if to soothe the aftershocks.

“There you go,” he whispered against your temple, his lips brushing your damp skin as he placed soft kisses there. “Look at you. So fucking perfect when you fall apart for me."

You whimpered softly, unable to do much else.

He shifted you carefully, as though you were fragile, tucking you into his chest while his arms wrapped around you in a rare, possessive embrace.

"My girl," he murmured into your hair. "Mine. No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to have you."

"Only you…" you slurred, voice so small and tired it barely registered, and Caleb felt something tight coil in his chest.

It always hit him in moments like these, the weight of how deeply he loved you. How you'd become the only softness he allowed himself in a world of orders and cold metal and endless silence.

As you drifted, eyes fluttering shut, Caleb tipped his head back against the chair, exhaling slowly.

And for the first time that night, he allowed himself the smallest, quietest thought:

I could stay like this forever.

Several long moments pass in silence, the soft hum of the hallway light filling the space between your soft, shuddering breaths.

Caleb holds you firmly against his chest, his broad palms rubbing slow, grounding circles over your back. The contact sends small shivers racing across your skin, your entire body hypersensitive after what he'd just put you through.

Still, you can’t help the quiet little mewls that slip from your lips, seeking comfort wherever you can find it, especially from him.

“You did well,” Caleb murmured at last, his voice low and smooth as starlight. “I’m proud of you.”

The praise makes your heart ache in the most satisfying way, and you snuggle deeper into his chest, nose pressed into the curve of his neck. His familiar scent, clean, crisp, something faintly soothing, mixed with the warmth of his skin, soothes you instantly.

But just as you start to drift into the safety of his hold, he shifts beneath you, his muscles tensing, and a warning growl rumbles from deep in his chest.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Caleb says coolly. “You’re still on thin ice. We’re nowhere near forgiveness yet.”

The reminder hits like a pulse through your fogged mind, sobering you just enough to recall his rules. No touching without permission. No kisses. Total obedience until he decides you've earned otherwise.

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, voice soft and small.

He hums, seemingly satisfied for now. “However…” Caleb’s hand trails slowly down your spine, settling over your sore, marked skin.

The light pressure on your raw backside draws a hiss from you, and you squirm slightly, though you don’t dare move far. “Since you completed your task adequately, I’ll be generous enough to give you one warning.”

His fingers trace lazily over the tender spots, almost admiring his own work.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Without another word, Caleb stands with you still in his arms, lifting both your weight and his own from the chair with ease. He cradles you effortlessly, one arm beneath your knees, the other supporting your back as you cling weakly to his shoulders.

"You've made a mess of my uniform," he mutters, though there’s a faint, amused tilt to his tone that makes you smile faintly into his neck.

He carries you into the sleek bathroom adjoining the master bedroom, the soft lighting adjusting automatically as you enter. Setting you down gently on shaky legs, he stays close as you brace yourself on the cool edge of the counter.

The bath fills quietly behind him as Caleb’s sharp gaze sweeps over you, assessing the evidence of his handiwork with clinical precision. His fingers hover over the reddened marks blooming across your skin, his expression unreadable except for the subtle glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“How bad is it?” you ask, already suspecting the answer.

“Perfect,” he replies without hesitation. “I’ll get you some ice and aloe, and whatever else you need."

You nod, dabbing away the remnants of your tears as you begin peeling off the remnants of your clothes, damp and wrinkled from sweat and arousal. Caleb helps you into the bath, guiding your body down into the warm water with practiced care, ensuring you're settled comfortably against the smooth incline of the tub.

“Relax,” he instructs softly, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead.

Just as he moves to leave, presumably to call in the necessary orders, your voice cuts through the air.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” you ask, tone sweet and innocent, as if you haven’t been teasing him all night.

Caleb pauses mid-step, turning just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. The way his silver hair falls over his eyes, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, it’s devastating.

“You really don’t listen, do you?” he muses, his voice dipping into something low and husky. Despite the reprimand, there’s a teasing glint in his gaze, playful but dangerous.

“You want something?” Caleb steps closer, the heat of his body radiating through the room as he leans down, hand braced on the edge of the tub near your head. “Then beg for it, pipsqueak."

🍎˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ caught you! - part 2 | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

GUYS… as promised i have part two of sol x reader who loves teasing him eheheh.

(only took me a month.. 😔✊🏼 sorry guys)

anyways! i’ll be posting more consistently soon now that my midterms are finished up for now, for all you LaDS players… i’m cooking up something devious and nasty. <3

also as promised! people who requested tags are tagged below !! mwah!

i’ll let you guys read now, much love!!

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63640159?view_adult=true

word count: 4814

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: blackmail, emotional manipulation, sub!sol, fingering, missionary, squirting

💚˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

The night was still, the soft hum of the city outside barely breaking the silence as you sat on your bed, waiting. The lights in your apartment were dimmed low, just enough to set the mood.

You had left the window unlocked, just as you’d promised Sol earlier that day, carefully undoing the flimsy pink ribbon and setting it aside, knowing he wouldn’t need it. Ribbon tied or not, you decided to make his life easier by undoing it yourself, that way he would be able to crawl through your window at your command.

The thought of him coming to you, desperate to be near you again, made a shiver race down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your skin as you sat on the edge of the bed, your eyes flicking to the digital clock. 12:03 a.m. Sol was three minutes late.

It didn’t matter. This time, everything would be on your terms, when you were conscious and not drugged asleep. He had made his mistake by avoiding you, not being upfront about his feelings. And now, you would make him pay for it. Punish him. But not in the way he was most likely expecting. No, this time, it would be different. This time, you wanted to leave him begging for more of you, for all of you.

A smile curled on your lips at the thought of completely ruining your sweet Solivan, your stalker– for the better part of four months. Your fingers traced lazily over the soft satin fabric of your pajamas, a simple combination of a button up shirt and shorts, as you glanced toward the window, hearing the shuffle of slow footsteps approaching. Your heart skipped a beat. It was him. Right?

You stood, nice and slowly, watching the window carefully. When the window slid open, Sol slipped into your room, smoothly from all the practice before, and his eyes locked onto yours instantly.

He stood there, frozen for a moment, his body stiff with eyes gazing across your body, up and down, he fidgeted with his hands, scratching the back of his neck. His breath was shallow, quick. He knew exactly what was waiting for him.

“You’re late,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of mock disappointment. You took a slow step forward, your feet making no sound against the hardwood as your hands moved to rest on his chest, your finger tracing along his shirt.

Sol swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing under your gaze. He glanced away, his eyes falling to the ground, unable to meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Shh…” You cut him off, your finger gently tracing his chin and lifting his face until his eyes met yours. The vulnerability in his gaze made you smile, a wicked smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “It’s okay, sweet boy. I’m not angry,” you cooed softly, your voice dripping with teasing affection.

You took a step back, settling back onto the edge of the bed, your arms crossing in front of you, observing the way Sol’s eyes followed your every movement like a predator tracking its prey. His body was tense, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach for you.

“You’ve been naughty Sol,” you whispered, the words barely audible, but they lingered between you two. “Lurking in the back of our class, watching me carefully, but never being able to tell me how you really feel…” You trailed off, your voice a low hum, enjoying the sound of his shaky, uneven breaths.

Without waiting for him to respond, you lifted a finger, beckoning him forward. He moved immediately, shuffling toward the bed, towering over you.

“Sit,” you commanded, your voice unwavering, and Sol’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he obediently lowered himself to his knees on the hard floor in front of you, prostrated with his hands on his knees, not questioning your command.

This was truly a sight to behold. Your little stalker, sitting so obediently on the floor, his eyes filled with need, ready to obey your every whim. You let out a soft breath of satisfaction.

“Such a good boy…” you purred, your hand reaching out to gently hold his chin, tilting his head side to side, examining him closely. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed a fresh bruise on the side of his face, the angry red mark contrasting very noticeably with his pale skin.

“What’s this?” you asked, your voice still sweet and soft.

Sol’s eyes flickered to the side, his breath hitching as he avoided meeting your gaze. You didn’t push him, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he collected his thoughts. You kept your hand gently on his chin, guiding his face back up to meet yours, your gaze softening when you saw the discomfort in his eyes.

“I… I got into a fight,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper, tinged with frustration. “They just don’t stop, always picking on me.”

Your heart tightened at his words, protectiveness towards him overtaking you. You reached up, brushing your fingers softly across his cheek, your touch just barely touching his skin. .

“My sweet boy,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with care. “Getting into fights, huh? It’s okay.” You pulled him a little closer, your hand gently cradling his jaw, your thumb running over the bruise on his face. "I’m here for you."

His eyes softened at your words, a quiet relief in his expression as if he hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear it. He shifted slightly, his breath evening out as he allowed himself to sink into the comfort of your touch.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed the bruise softly, your lips pressing gently against the tender skin.

Sol’s body tensed slightly at first, but when he realized what you were doing, he relaxed into your touch, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. You pulled back slowly, your eyes meeting his,

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper.

“A little,” he admitted, his voice raw and vulnerable.

You smiled, your hand gently caressing his cheek again. “I’ll take care of you,” you promised, your voice sweet and soothing.

You took your time with Sol, watching him squirm under your gaze, watching his fingers flex into the fabric of his jeans as he oh so badly wanted to touch you, to finally claim some part of you as his, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to just yet. His hands twitched again, and you could almost see the struggle inside him as he fought against the urge to just take you.

You smiled sweetly, almost mockingly. “You’ve been so patient, haven’t you, Sol?” Your voice was low, almost teasing, but firm, with some authority behind your words. “Waiting for your moment, letting me take control earlier today just so you could feel me touch you. But you’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you?”

Sol’s breath hitched, his breaths coming out more shaky as he finally looked up at you, a mix of guilt and longing in his eyes. His lips parted, but no words came out, he was frozen, completely paralyzed by your presence, by the way you were watching him like he was the only thing that mattered.

“I noticed, you know,” you whispered, “How you’ve been slipping things into my food and drinks, trying to make me… yours. You thought I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t catch you?”

His face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes dropping to the floor in shame, but his hands, those pathetic, trembling hands, reached out ever so slightly, like a desperate plea for permission or maybe a beg for forgiveness.

“Don’t be shy now,” you said with a laugh, voice dripping with mock affection as you pulled him by his shirt collar, bringing him closer to your face. “You’ve been sneaking into my apartment, haven’t you? Sneaking in through the window like a little fox…” You leaned in, letting your breath brush against his ear as you whispered, “I’ve heard you, Sol. I’ve heard you whispering to me at night, your voice so sweet, so desperate, telling me things you’d never say to my face. Pumpkin… what a cute nickname you chose.”

His body trembled, a soft whimper escaping his lips, but still, he didn’t move. He was so pathetically frozen in place, listening to you expose all his dirty little secrets… the drugs, the sneaking in… the way he’d slip in your bed and masturbate to your sleeping body. He swallowed hard.

“It’s a good thing I’m so merciful isn’t it?”

You laughed, pulling back and shaking your head. “My my Sol, for such a quiet little mouse you sure are interesting…”

You took his trembling hands in yours, giving them a soft squeeze as you guided them toward your legs. His fingers brushed the smooth warmth of your skin, and you let him feel the heat, knowing how badly he wanted this.

"Go on," you murmured, your voice silky and soothing, "Touch me, Sol. You've been dreaming of this, haven’t you? Let me show you how merciful I can be, if you prove to me just how much you want me. Maybe… just maybe, I won’t report any of this. Maybe..."

You let the words hang in the air, leaning in close enough to let your lips graze against his ear as you whispered with a teasing, seductive tone, "Maybe I’ll even agree to be your little girlfriend. How does that sound?"

Sol’s entire body shuddered at your words, his hands trembling slightly as they moved slowly up your legs, his touch gentle, as if you were porcelain beneath his touch. You could practically feel his pulse racing under your fingertips. He nodded quickly, his eyes wide with hunger, pleading with you without saying a word. His need was written all over his face.

You smiled, guiding his hands firmly against your thighs, urging him to feel you, to explore your skin. His rough hands traced every inch, and you let him, savoring the sweet desperation in his movements. "You’ve been so good for me, my sweet Sol," you whispered, a slow smile spreading across your lips as you tilted your head, watching him squirm under your control. "Let me show you what happens when you finally listen."

His breath hitched as your hands guided his hands up higher, your fingers wrapping around his trembling wrists and pushing them gently under the hem of your shorts. You spread your legs just a little more, your voice soft but still with that undertone of dominance. "There, baby. Feel how much I want you… feel how wet you’ve made me."

Sol’s eyes grew wide, his face turning a deep shade of red. He was in disbelief, completely overwhelmed by the fact that this was happening, that he was finally here with you, in your bedroom too. He knew he didn’t deserve this, not after everything he’d done to you in secrecy, yet there he was, touching you, feeling you in ways he’d only dreamed of.

You looked at him, your gaze trailing over him, as you traced your fingers lightly over his wrist, keeping him in place. “Tell me, Sol,” you purred, your voice dropping low with a hint of control, "What would you do if I let you have me? What would you do if I told you, you could touch me however you wanted?”

He swallowed hard, the sound of it echoing in the room as his lips parted. His mouth was dry, his body trembling with anticipation. “I-I…” Sol started, his voice cracking, his hands were shaking as they pressed into your thighs, desperate for contact. “I’d treat you like a goddess, you’re everything to me… my pumpkin, please, please let me make you feel good... nobody could make you feel as good as I could, I swear!”

His words spilled out in a desperate stream, his voice breaking at the edges as if every syllable was an admission of just how badly he wanted you. He leaned further onto your legs, eyes shining with a mix of worship and pure need, each shaky breath just confirming to you that he needed you so badly, he was yours.

You looked down at him, a smug smile playing on your lips, savoring the sound of his whiny pleas. The way his hands flexed against your thighs, barely able to keep himself in check, only made you smile wider. You could practically feel how much he was trembling under your gaze.

“Your goddess, huh?” you purred, your voice laced with teasing satisfaction. “Then prove it, Solivan. Show me why I should be yours and no one else.”

You didn’t need to say much more. His eyes fluttered with a quick flash of excitement, and without hesitation, you spread your legs fully. Your shorts, a simple barrier, were thrown somewhere in your bedroom as you casually shrugged them off and tossed them. You gestured for him to come closer, your expression remaining sweet, almost mocking.

Sol’s breath hitched at the sight of you, and you could see the way his eyes glazed over, entirely captivated by you. His hands shook as they reached up to help you, trembling like he couldn’t believe you were giving him this chance, this opportunity to serve you. He swallowed again, this time his throat dry with nervousness, with longing, to make you feel good.

As his face hovered near your thighs, his breath fanning across your skin, you felt his pulse in his hands against your legs, a soft thumping. His lips parted as though he couldn’t decide whether to speak or just give in to the overwhelming urge to eat you up.

Finally, with a whimper, he murmured, his voice weak, “Please... let me make you feel good. I need to... I need to make you feel good, like you deserve. Please, just let me...” His voice was almost pleading, love sick almost, as he begged for permission.

You could feel the heat of his breath as his lips brushed your inner thigh. His lips dragging along your thighs, just barely touching the skin as he looked up at you for permission to move further.

“You’re so pathetic,” you whispered, watching him carefully.

He shivered.

“But I like it. I like the way you need me... how much you want to make me feel good. Do it, Solivan. Show me how far you’ll go to prove you’re mine.”

His eyes practically gleamed with devotion. Without another word, he lowered himself, breath still shaky, as he kissed the soft skin of the inside of your thighs. The warmth of his lips made you shiver, his kisses slow, gentle, trailing up your inner thigh.

He then traced his lips lower, gently teasing, as if he wanted to savor every inch of you. He couldn’t contain the soft whimper that escaped him as he nudged your legs apart even further.

His voice, barely above a whisper, came out in a desperate plea, “Please... I want to taste you. Let me. Please.”

You nodded, giving him the go ahead to take your soaked underwear off.

His hands moved up your legs, tracing the soft skin, and tugging your underwear off, setting them to the side. You shivered when the cool air blew between your legs. Sol’s lips were so close, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin. You could feel him hesitating, like he was nervous, awaiting more approval.

“Stop staring and just do it, Sol,” you spoke breathlessly, your voice a mix of impatience and amusement. “You wanted to make me feel good, right? Show me baby.”

He leaned in, his lips finally brushing against your pussy, and you couldn’t stop the sharp breath that left your mouth. The first few touches were gentle, trailing along your skin like he was testing the waters. But when you finally made a small noise– a soft moan, he didn’t hold back anymore.

His tongue swirled around your clit, sucking it softly, and you shuddered at the way he touched you, a long drawn out moan leaving your mouth once more. His lips moving eagerly, licking, kissing, exploring.

Every little sound he made was muffled against your pussy, but you could tell how much he wanted it, how much he needed to do this. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, painted fingernails digging shallow crescents into your skin as he pulled you closer, like he was trying to bury himself in you.

“Fuck,” you whispered, tilting your head back as he continued. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to him, the way his touch made you burn with pleasure. Every flick of his tongue had you gasping, your hands reaching for his dark hair, gripping it carefully as if you needed something to hold onto, bucking your hips up at the same time.

“Please, Sol,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, a soft plea that made him go even deeper, his movements quickening as he continued to eat you out, your juices mixing with his spit. It was messy, filthy even, but it felt so good as his tongue licked up and down.

Sol’s hand lifted up towards your pussy, and very carefully, he slipped a single finger in, easily. He thrusted it in experimentally, watching as you trembled under him, and very quickly added a second one, finger fucking you while eating you out at the same time.

His mouth was still on you, kissing and licking with such desperation, like he couldn’t get enough. You couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, your fingers running through his hair as your body twitched and spasmed, like it had a mind of its own from the pleasure.

“Sol... oh my god,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out between your gasps. His fingers were moving in perfect tempo with his tongue, hitting all the right spots while his tongue teased you, driving you crazy.

He didn’t slow down, if anything, he seemed to pick up the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper, his tongue flattening against your pussy as he licked upwards slowly. You could feel it building inside you, the pressure, the heat, the way your body was begging for release. You didn’t even know if you could hold it in much longer.

“Sol, I’m.. I’m gonna…” you gasped out, your voice almost pleading as you warned him, but he was relentless, continuing his movements.

Then, it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense you thought you might drown in it. Your body went stiff, your hips bucking upwards into his face uncontrollably as you let out a breathless moan, feeling the high surge through you.

You couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the way your body just gave in completely, every part of you shuddering from the intensity, liquid splashing from between your legs onto Sol’s face.

Sol didn’t pull away, though. He just kept going, his fingers and lips moving, sucking on your clit hard, making sure you felt everything, pushing you even higher as you rode the wave of pleasure. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, only on him and the way he was making you feel like you were everything to him.

When you finally came down from the high, you were breathless, your chest heaving, but there was that look in his eyes again. That hungry, satisfied look that told you he wasn’t done, not by a long shot. And that look only fueled your own desire to keep going.

“Such… such a good boy for me, Sol…” You breathed out, stroking his face gently as you sat up, kissing his forehead.

Sol’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but you could feel the tension in his body, the way his chest rose and fell with each shaky breath. It wasn’t just the fact he ate you out and saw you cum, it was… something else.

You glanced down and noticed the hard bulge straining in his pants, a little smirk pulled at your lips, and you couldn’t resist.

“Aww, my poor baby,” you cooed, your fingers tracing over his chest as you leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “Want me to help with that?”

Sol’s hands tightened on your thighs, and his breath hitched. His jaw clenched, and you could see the way his eyes darted between you and his hard, clothed cock. “Please,” he murmured, almost embarrassed but so clearly needing it. “Please, I need you.”

With a playful chuckle, you leaned back, giving him a teasing smile. “Good boy,” you whispered, “Let’s take care of that.”

Sol finally pulled himself up from the floor, his knees sore from kneeling on the hardwood for so long, but honestly, his mind was too clouded with desire to care. He was so close, so close to being with you in the way he’d dreamed about. The pain in his knees? Barely a thought. He’d ignore it. For now.

He loomed over you, standing on the edge of the bed, and gave you a look that sent a thrill straight through you. You noticed that wild, hungry glint in his eyes as he motioned for you to move up further, his hand reaching out to guide you with that same possessive touch.

You obeyed without hesitation, scooting back until you were comfortable against your pillows. Sol crept closer, his body now blocking out the light above, using his hands to push your legs apart, his fingers warm and firm against your skin.

"My pumpkin… so fucking beautiful," he whispered, and the words made your stomach flutter.

He kissed your skin gently at first, his lips trailing along your throat and jawline, all while his cock strained painfully against his jeans. The way he moved ever so slowly, made every inch of him feel impossibly more enticing.

His hands shook a little as he undid the zipper on his jeans, sliding them and his boxers down in one fluid motion, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He was there, right over you, his body pressing into yours, and that feeling of his weight made your heart race. You reached up, letting your fingers trail across his chest and through his messy hair, feeling how warm he was, how every muscle flexed with each subtle move.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” you teased, your voice soft.

His expression shifted, impatience flashing in his eyes. "I've wanted this for so long, pumpkin... I'm always ready for you," he breathed, his voice thick and raw.

Without another word, Sol lowered himself, and his lips found yours in a kiss that felt entirely different from the others. This one was slow, intense, filled with an aching kind of care.

His hands cradled your face gently as he pulled away for a moment, eyes locked with yours as he scanned your face, as if trying to read every little reaction you had.

“I need you,” he whispered, voice heavy with desperation, his hands moving back down to his cock to line himself up with you.

A soft kiss to your temple, and then he pushed into you, his groan escaping as your body clenched around him. You gasped, a rush of heat flooding through you as tears threatened to spill, your eyes wide.

Was he always this big? You couldn’t remember it feeling like this when you had him in your mouth earlier, but damn, the feeling was almost overwhelming now.

Sol’s thumb wiped a stray tear from your cheek as he let you adjust, then, slowly, he began to move, each thrust deliberate and slow, savoring every little noise you made in response.

His hands gripped the sheets beside you, his body pressing down on yours as you felt every inch of him, every movement against you, each one almost too much to bear.

But Sol couldn’t stay slow for long, he grew impatient from months of yearning. His hands moved to your hips, urging you to meet his thrusts, and that’s when everything blurred.

The sound of skin against skin, the feeling of him deep inside, all mixed together as you found your rhythm, moving in sync. His name slipped from your lips, breathless, desperate, and it was all the encouragement he needed to push harder.

“S-Sol!” You cried out, feeling your body tremble beneath him, arms wrapping around his back to hold on as his hips stuttered, thrusts growing erratic.

He leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue swirling with yours as he moaned into your mouth, and you could feel the urgency in every movement.

He pulled away just enough to warn you, his voice strained.

“Pumpkin… I’m so close…”

Sol’s hips never slowed, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you, the wet sounds of your body meeting his echoing in your ears. You grinned up at him, loving the way he was unraveling, desperate for you, for the release you both craved.

“Beg me,” you whispered, your tone teasing, but there was an edge to it.

Sol froze, eyes wide as he stuttered, unsure if he heard you right.

“W-What?”

You smirked, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him even closer as you whispered again, your voice low and demanding.

“You wanna cum inside, right?”

He nodded eagerly, swallowing hard, searching your eyes for permission. You could see the hesitation mixed with need.

“Then beg me to, and I’ll let you.”

The words barely left your mouth before Sol’s face buried into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whimpered, pleading in a voice that made your heart race.

“Please… pumpkin, please… let me cum inside. I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours… please… I’ve been so good for you... please, I’m so close…”

His voice broke, breath ragged, and the desperation in his words made you ache with how much he wanted you, needed you.

“Good boy…” you breathed out, your voice full of praise as you pushed him further. “Come for me, then…”

That was all it took. Sol’s pace picked up, harder, deeper, his body jerking with each thrust as he buried himself as deep as he could go. A high-pitched moan escaped him, his body stiffening as he came inside you, his hips stuttering as warmth filled you.

You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer, your body trembling as your own orgasm washed over you in waves. The two of you, moving together, feeling the bliss of your mutual release, your head spinning with the haze of the moment.

As Sol’s body collapsed on top of you, both of you still panting heavily, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The way he was still twitching inside you, every breath shaky as if he couldn’t quite believe what just happened made your heart thump.

You lightly traced your fingers along his back, your touch soft and teasing. “You look so satisfied,” you murmured, your voice sweet and innocent, but you knew this wasn’t over. Not yet.

Sol groaned softly, his forehead pressed against yours, but you could see the edge of that hunger still lingering in his eyes, even if he was trying to catch his breath. “I... I’m not done with you yet, pumpkin,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, full of that same desperate need.

“Oh, really?” you said, raising an eyebrow and pretending to act innocent, even as your heart pounded with anticipation for what was to come next. “You sure? You seem pretty spent to me.”

You could see him struggle to find his words, his hands tightening on your waist as if he was trying to hold himself back. “I—I’ll never be done with you. Not when you’re like this.”

You giggled softly, teasing him one last time before you moved just enough to make him shiver, your breath light against his ear. “Mmm, you’re adorable. But don’t get too ahead of yourself. You’ve earned a little break.”

With that, you pulled away slightly, just enough to let him catch his breath before you leaned in again, your lips brushing against his, as you kissed him so sweetly. “But don’t think I’m going to let you off that easily,” you whispered with a grin, knowing full well it was far from over.

Sol’s eyes flashed, a grin tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer again, remembering your words from earlier. “Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”

You only giggled in response, settling into his arms.

“I’ll think about it during our next round, kay?”

Sol buried himself back into your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, deeply and slowly. He nodded in response, and whispered in your ear.

“I love you… my pumpkin.”

💚˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

tags hehe:

- @1heartsubm1ssivemen

- @theslasherslut

- @orchidlaced

- @26saints26

[heavensenteden]

valentines art hehee <3

Valentines yay😻🗣️‼️

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go follow my best friend <33 support his art ;P

Day 1 of fighting for my life(quick background study)

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✎ submit.exe | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

hello to the 10 SeekL fans out there, i bestow a gift upon you… odxny esex fanfic!

someone shoot me please dear god.

anyways, i have some new works upcoming i promise! i’m working on another crowe, sol, and a 14dwy piece ;P so stick around for those <3

much love to those who read! you guys have been so sweet on my other works!!

okok, now you guys can read, mwah

also make sure you guys listen to swim by chase atlantic while reading this or sum sexy, idk. set the mood for yourself

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62761168

word count: 3856

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: e-sex (lol), fingering, stalking-ish, degrading, mututal masturbation

💻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

It has only been a couple of days since you, or well, Thrim, landed yourself in a server full of skilled hackers, all looking to complete their… passion projects.

If you can even call them that.

In all honesty, it has been fun, learning new coding skills, getting made fun of, and, most of all, being able to talk to him. Odxny. The mystery man who wears a mask every time you call and talks about disappearing once it’s all over.

Today is no different. The server buzzes with activity as you scroll through endless lines of code, occasionally stopping to reply to a message from one of the other members.

You have already been working for hours prior to this, on your own little project, and of course, your mind is beginning to wander. Thankfully, your saving grace, Odxny, sends you a text.

odxny: busy right now?

thrim: for you? never <3

odxny: haha, could I call you then?

thrim: ofc ofc!

You shift at your desk, setting up your camera and smoothing your hair down so it doesn’t appear so messy. Then, the ring of a call comes through your headset, and as you put your earbuds in, you simultaneously click ‘accept.’

His face appears on the screen of your monitor. He is seated back in his chair, calm and unreadable as always, that mask of his only adding to the mystery as he grins at you. The soft glow of his server rack flickers in the background, the glow of his monitor bathing his covered face in a soft blue hue.

Despite calling him every single night since the day you joined the server, he looks just as pretty as the first time you saw him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth and cool, as if he’s just casually checking in.

“Hey,” you reply, a bit too eagerly. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” he answers, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. “Thought I’d see how you’re doing. Are you still helping Pep with codes, or are you taking a break?”

You lean back in your chair, trying to shake off the slight bit of heat just his stare alone causes. “Just the usual, I was helping him earlier, now I’m working on my own stuff. It’s been a long day though.”

“Mmm, I can tell.” His tone is almost too knowing. “You’ve been quiet within the server lately. Anything on your mind?” He leans forward slightly, his eyes focused on the screen in that way that makes you feel like he’s watching your every minor move.

You laugh nervously, not sure what to make of his sudden interest. “Just, uh, the usual. Lots of work, you know?”

He tilts his head, as if considering your words for a moment. “Mm, yeah. Sounds pretty boring. I figured you’d have something more exciting going on than that.” There’s a playful edge to his voice now, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken.

You try to keep it casual, teasing him back. “What, you want me to do something exciting for you?”

There’s a pause, and you watch as he takes a breath, as if he is considering his next words carefully. “Well, it depends. What are you into? I’m sure we could find something… fun to talk about.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sudden shift in his tone, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his words seem to linger in the air. “Uh, what kind of… fun are we talking about?” you ask, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

He grins behind that mask, leaning back in his chair. “Well, you know… I’m just curious what kind of ‘exciting’ things you’re into. I’ve known you for a couple of days and barely know anything… personal about you. Everyone’s got their little… preferences, right?” His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his tone smooth and casual.

You shift in your seat, suddenly aware of how close he seems to feel, even through the screen. “Preferences?” you parrot back, forcing a casual laugh, though your voice betrays you with a slight tremor.

“Mhm,” Odxny hums, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on his desk, the rhythm slow and steady. “Do you enjoy being in control of people, or… would you rather someone take the lead?” He says it so casually, as if it’s just a simple question, but the weight of his words makes your stomach flip.

Your breath catches in your throat, unsure if you should answer his rather direct question or just change the subject. But you can’t help it, there’s something about him that pulls you deeper into the conversation. “I… I don’t know. I guess I like both,” you admit, your voice betraying you once again as it hitches slightly.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Both, huh? Interesting… but which one do you think you’d really enjoy more?” There’s some curiosity in his tone, and an almost playful lilt that sends shivers down your spine.

You can feel your cheeks burning now, and you know your voice will give you away if you try to brush it off. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” you stammer, though you really do know the answer, you just don’t want to admit it to him.

His smile widens, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Sure you don’t. It’s okay to admit things, you know. I won’t bite… unless you ask me to.” He leans in a little closer, and suddenly, his presence, despite being on a video call, feels overwhelming.

“So, tell me… when it comes down to it, do you like it rough? Or are you more of a… slow and passionate kind of person?”

Your body freezes. The question hangs in the air like a dare.

Your heart hammers in your chest, and it feels like your entire body is on fire.

You clear your throat, trying to force yourself to focus and answer the damn question, but it’s hard when Odxny’s calm demeanor makes everything feel like a simple game, and you’re not sure if you want to keep playing… or if you want him to take control.

"I… I’m not sure," you stammer, your voice shaky. “I guess… both, depending on the mood.”

His eyes narrow slightly through his little fox mask as he watches you struggle to find the right words.

"Mm, interesting."

He leans even closer to the screen, his eyes scanning you up and down in an almost predatory way.

"You know, I’ve been wondering… do you ever think about what it would feel like? To let someone really take control? I mean, you let us push you around sometimes, making you help us with hacks, and Incri likes to poke fun at you when they can…"

Odxny pauses, a grin growing on his face.

"I’d even be so confident to say maybe you like it—the way we push you around and make fun at times."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him.

He’s not wrong.

But you’d die before admitting that.

"Y-Yeah, as if…"

His voice drops lower, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I’d be fine if you’re into that. But can you imagine how it would feel? Giving yourself up to someone, trusting them to make you feel… good. But you’d have to trust that someone completely, don’t you think?"

You blink, caught off guard by how serious he’s gotten.

"Trust?" you echo, trying to deflect.

Did you trust Odxny? You’d only known him a few days but he had been somewhat welcoming, and a bit of a delight to talk to at night, so much so that you found yourself actually looking forward to your nightly calls.

He nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. Because without trust, there’s no real connection. No... control.” His words hang in the air.

Your pulse quickens, your heart racing. “I guess I could trust... the right person.”

“The right person, huh?” He pauses, letting his words stretch out. “Tell me, do you think you could trust me?”

Your breath catches, and it’s as if the whole world tilts on its very axis. You want to look away, but you can’t. Something about the way he’s looking at you, so sure, so confident, pulls at you. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before speaking again.

“What if I told you,” Odxny continues, his voice lower now, “that I could give you what you’re craving... but you’d have to let go of all control. All of it. Let me show you exactly how I could make you feel...”

A wave of heat ripples through your body, your mind becoming a mix of confusion, excitement, and… lust. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. It’s too much, and yet... somehow it’s exactly what you need.

After days of flirting back and forth in the admin chat it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen right? You just didn’t think it would occur so soon.

“I... I don’t know if I can...” Your voice is barely a whisper, but the admission is enough to make Odxny smile.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “Just listen to me... do as I say and I’ll make you feel good.” He’s almost whispering now.

You feel your breath quicken, the weight of his gaze making you feel exposed in ways you never expected. The line between teasing and something much, much more is blurring fast for you, so fast it’s making your head spin.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low, as though he’s savoring the effect his words are having on you. “Be a good girl for me and unzip that hoodie, yeah?”

Your body freezes for a split second, something in your mind wants to pull away, to regain some sense of control from this moment, but a rush of excitement zips through your entire body instead. The sheer idea of being completely at his mercy, even through a video call, sends a shiver through your spine.

Your hand trembles as you unzip the sweater you had on, the oversized piece of clothing falling off your shoulders to expose smooth, unblemished skin. Underneath you had only been wearing a simple black tank top and black shorts, but despite it being casual wear, you hear Odxny draw in a sharp breath.

Odxny’s grin widens, satisfaction evident in his eyes as he leans back, letting you undress for him. “Good,” he murmurs, “I want you to stop thinking for yourself, stop trying to control everything. Let go, and let me show you just how good it can feel when you just listen to me, okay?”

His words are smooth, calculated almost, you feel like he’s reading every twitch of your body as if you were an open book, you’re teetering on the edge, and you know there’s no turning back now.

His eyes trail down, pausing to linger on what little clothing you had on as you press your thighs together, and for a second, a knowing look crosses his face. “You can feel that, don’t you? You’re getting so hot for me, aren’t you?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver through you. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this.”

You’re so caught up in the way his words have taken hold of you that you barely realize your hands are moving to push your shorts down, and off your body, the piece of fabric being tossed to some dark corner of the room as you sat in your chair, tank top on and underwear on, being watched by the hacker.

His eyes immediately flick back to your face after lingering for a moment too long on your underwear, his eyes were dark with desire, and a low chuckle escaped his lips. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice thick with approval. “You look fucking gorgeous. Now… show me how you touch yourself.”

The command sends a jolt straight through your core. You hesitate only for a moment, before your fingers instinctively twitch, the heat between your thighs growing unbearable under his intense gaze.

Odxny doesn’t rush you. He doesn’t need to. The way he watches, silent, patient, completely in control, has your breath hitching in anticipation. His voice comes through the headset, low and teasing. “Don’t be shy now. I’ve seen the way you react to my teasing. I know exactly what you want.”

Your fingers graze over the waistband of your underwear, you swallow hard, your body burning under his attention. He hums approvingly, his grin widening behind his mask. “That’s it… nice and slow. Let yourself feel it.”

You try to relax your body, spreading your thighs for him, your nimble fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles against yourself through the damp fabric. Your breaths come out in soft, shaky exhales, the warmth spreading through you becoming almost unbearable—made even worse by the way Odxny watches.

His breathing is slightly heavier now, just a fraction off his usual composed self. The flickering lights from his server rack cast a dim glow against his silhouette, making the blue of his screen reflect off the edges of his fox mask.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into something darker, deeper. “You’re so pretty like this. Completely at my mercy, yeah? Just listening, just following… you’re being such a good girl for me.”

The praise twists hot in your stomach, your fingers pressing harder, your body aching for more. You can’t stop the way your hips stutter, how your thighs tremble just from the sound of his voice.

“Take them off.”

You jerk, pleasure overtaking hesitation, sitting up just enough to push the remaining fabric off your body. The cool air kisses your skin as your underwear is discarded, leaving your lower half completely exposed for him, your fingers dipping back into your soaked pussy, rubbing circles gently, slowly.

For a second, there’s silence.

Then, you hear the faintest shift from his side of the call.

A sharp inhale.

A low, rough exhale, one he tries to control.

Your stomach tightens. Naughty boy.

“Such a quick learner,” he purrs, voice full of satisfaction. His eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of bared skin, every little tremor you make under his gaze. “I should’ve had you doing this nights ago.”

The way he says it has you spiraling, every teasing word winding that coil inside you tighter, tighter, until it’s nearly unbearable.

Then, your screen flickers.

It’s a brief static glitch. Quick. Barely noticeable.

But your mind, already hazy, already pliant under his control, almost doesn’t catch it.

Then his voice comes back, smooth, unbothered.

“You really do trust me, don’t you?”

Your breath catches.

Something about the way he says it… it feels wrong.

Another flicker. Just a second. But this time, you see it.

Something in your video feed, something behind him.

In the reflection of a mirror behind him.

It’s your own screen.

For a split second, the distorted pixels snap into clarity.

And staring back at you from behind Odxny’s shoulder is your own reflection, not from this call, but from another angle. An angle that shouldn’t exist.

Your bedroom.

Your desk.

The way you move in real time.

Your camera feed.

It’s not just this call.

He’s been watching you the whole time.

Your blood runs cold even as your body is still warm, still burning from the pleasure he’s drawn out of you. Your stomach tightens, the realization hitting you too late.

He’s seen everything.

Every moment. Every little touch. Every time you change. Every time you sat at your desk and talked to him like this was just harmless flirting.

And now, the look in his eyes, that fucking knowing look, tells you he’s reveling in your realization.

The call screen steadies again, your video going back to normal. Odxny doesn’t react to the glitch. He just exhales slowly, tilting his head like he’s studying you.

And then, the soft sound of fabric shifting. The movement of his arm.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Oh.

He’s touching himself too.

It’s subtle at first, like he’s still playing it cool, but now you know better. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his breaths have turned slow, measured, almost too controlled.

His hand is moving.

You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but you know.

And he knows you know.

His voice is low when he speaks again, raspier, rougher.

“You’re so good for me,” he murmurs. “So fucking sweet. Letting me watch you like this.”

A pause.

And then, a smirk.

“…Letting me watch you for days.”

Your heart stops.

Before you can even process what that means, his voice drops lower, a teasing edge lacing every word.

“Come on, baby. Don’t stop now.”

His hand is still moving. Slow. Steady.

"You’re already mine."

You listen, of course. How could you not? His voice wraps around you like a vice, sinking deep into your bones, leaving no room for anything else. Your fingers slip back between your thighs, gliding effortlessly through the slickness pooling there, the wetness a humiliatingly clear sign of his hold on you.

And he sees it all. Every little reaction. Every twitch of your body.

Your fingers move, slow, shallow thrusts at first, easing yourself open under his gaze. You let out a quiet gasp, your thighs shaking.

Odxny’s chuckle hums through the headset. "Did you think I wouldn’t know?"

You pause for half a second, blinking at your webcam through the haze of pleasure.

"Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?" His voice dips into something lower, rougher. "Every time you touched yourself when I wasn’t around?"

Your breath hitches.

He laughs again, so smug, so infuriatingly pleased with himself, and it makes you squirm even more. "Oh, sweetheart. You think I don’t notice the way your breathing changes when we’re on call? The way your hands go out of frame sometimes? Or how about when you ‘need to go do some important stuff’ and you hang up on me just to go play with yourself.”

Your stomach tightens at his words.

Every single time you thought you were sneaky, every time you let yourself sink into filthy thoughts about him, he was watching.

"I know exactly what you do when you think I’m not paying attention, or when we’re not on call together," he purrs, eyes dark with amusement and something much filthier. "And look at you now, so obedient. You were always meant to be mine, weren’t you?"

His hand is still moving.

You can hear it now, so faint, but unmistakable. The shift of fabric, the slow, measured strokes.

He’s matching your pace. How romantic.

Your fingers pump deeper, curling inside of you, teasing that sensitive spot that has your body jerking just slightly, because you want to perform for him now. You want him to see how much you’ve fallen for him, how deep he’s dug his claws into you.

He exhales sharply through his nose, amused, ravenous. "That’s it, sweet girl. That’s exactly what I like."

The realization sinks deeper.

This was never just about control.

Odxny has been playing this game since the beginning.

Since that very first call. Since the first time you stumbled into his space, into his world.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips, his fingers tightening around himself, his movements just slightly rougher now. He’s close, too.

"Since that first call... I knew you’d be mine."

Your breath catches, fingers pumping faster as you whimper into your headset.

"You’re so perfect for me, baby," he continues, voice dipping into something possessive, intoxicating. "Just the way I like it. So sweet, so eager for me, so easy to break down."

His tempo speeds up, his breathing uneven through the mic.

"You’ll be mine, won’t you?" His voice is demanding now. "You’ll keep coming back for more, won’t you? I know you can’t resist. I can see it in your pretty little eyes how badly you want to be mine."

You don’t hesitate. You nod, desperate, lost in him. You want to be his.

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even think.

"Yes... I’m yours."

It feels right. It feels inevitable.

Like it’s always been this way.

Like you were made for this.

His chuckle vibrates through the call, smug and victorious.

"Good girl."

His voice is so full of praise, of approval, but to you it’s more than that.

It’s his claim on you

"That’s what I wanted to hear. Now cum for me my sweet girl, show me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. Your fingers move faster, slick and needy, your breathing turning ragged as the pleasure coils so, so tightly inside you. You can hear everything, his breaths, low and uneven, the faint, sinful rhythm of him stroking his cock as he chases his own release.

"That’s it," he murmurs, watching you fall apart. "Just like that. You’re so fucking perfect for me."

His voice alone sends you tipping over the edge.

Pleasure bursts through you, hot and overwhelming, your body tensing for a few seconds before unraveling completely. A cry rips from your throat as your fingers stutter, your back arching against the chair slightly, your thighs trembling as the release crashes through you in waves.

Odxny groans, a deep, guttural sound that shoots straight through you.

You barely register the way his body tenses, the way his hand jerks rougher, faster, as if the sight of you completely undone has wrecked him too.

"Fuck—"

The sound of him coming apart is obscene. A harsh breath, a low, satisfied growl of your name. You don’t have to see it to feel it, how he must look right now, his body shuddering, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, his hand covered in his own cum.

For a moment after, there was only silence, save for the shared sound of heavy, ragged breathing.

Your body is still buzzing, pulsing with the aftermath, your skin flushed, your heart pounding. You barely remember where you are. All you can think about is him.

Then a soft amused chuckle pulls you back.

"You’re such a good girl for me, you know that?"

The praise still makes your stomach twist, even now, when your body is already spent. You swallow, trying to even out your breathing, your mind clouded, hazy.

Then, his voice shifts, just slightly, a lower and more gentle tone.

"I meant what I said, baby."

You blink. Your heart skips.

"You’re mine now."

It’s not a question, but a declaration of sorts.

From the moment you joined the server, from the second you answered his first call, from the first time he looked at you like this.

You’ve always been his.

And now, you both knew it.

💻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ the art of ruin | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

oh my god back to back fics! who is she?

finally. crowe fic. my man my man my man.

this is kind of self indulgent cause i like the idea of crowe being possessive and wanting to watch you fall apart in his hands type beat.

i also realized that all my fics are fem readers so pls bear with me, i’ll work on my gender neutral and male writing skills for you guys <3

also i tried this fic and last fic to space it out so it’s easier on the eyes to read? idk lmk what yall think ok much love mwah !

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62636683?view_adult=true

word count: 2189

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: edging, overstimulation, fingering, orgasm control/denial, dom!crowe

💫˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Audio from the TV filled the room, muffled into an almost distant hum by the noise-canceling headphones wrapped snugly around your ears. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to make out the dialogue that was being spoken out into your tiny apartment, not that it mattered.

Your mind was elsewhere, drifting, unraveling, caught in the slow and steady descent Crowe was single-handedly orchestrating.

He had come over earlier that evening to check up on you, since you had missed class that day. You weren’t sick or anything, just felt like sleeping in, and he had suggested you two watch a movie together!

He spent his time, too much of it, deliberately choosing something for the both of you to "watch," despite knowing full well that your sight would be stolen from you before the opening credits had even finished rolling. You never even got a glimpse of what he had picked out.

Not that you needed to.

Seated on your cozy couch, you found yourself trapped against him, your back pressed flush to his chest as he lounged like this was all routine. Your legs were splayed open, pinned in place by his knees, ensuring there was no room for modesty, no escape from the deliberate tease and taunts of his slow and steady touches.

His fingers traced along your body nice and slow, featherlight patterns over your bare skin, savoring the way you shivered under his touch. Every so often, he’d pause, catching a nipple between his fingers, rolling it between the pads of his fingers just to feel you squirm.

And yet, despite the helpless, breathy sounds falling from your lips, he seemed oddly absorbed in the movie, like he could multitask with ease, like this wasn’t even effort for him, but you felt that was expected from the student council president, right?

Then, the sharp sting of his teeth on the back of your neck made you jolt in his lap, a sharp gasp escaping before you could even think to swallow it down. Your mouth parted uselessly, searching for words, but they quickly died on your tongue before they could even begin to form.

Crowe merely exhaled a quiet chuckle, his breath hot against your skin, and pressed his fingers closer to your clit, circling lazily, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you, you were his in this moment, his starlight, his goddess.

A whimper left your throat, your hips rolling into his touch on instinct, silently begging for more, for anything, for mercy, or perhaps, for the opposite. But when you tried to squeeze your legs shut, to stifle the hot and aching need between them, his knees held you firm, forcing you open, keeping you right where he wanted you.

The silk binding your wrists behind your back strained as you twisted, struggling against it, desperate for friction. But Crowe merely pulled you in tighter, an arm braced around your middle, his slight display of strength becoming an unspoken command: Behave.

A sharp tug at your nipple again made you cry out, the sting of it stealing what little composure you had left. It was as if he was wordlessly scolding you, pulling on you just enough to remind you of who was in control. And when your cries softened into breathy whimpers, he smoothed over the abused skin with slow, soothing strokes, as if to reward your submission.

Crowe was nothing if not patient. He played the long game, coaxing you toward the edge only to pull you back, time and time again, until the anticipation left you trembling, wrecked, desperate to know how far he’d take it. Until the need pooled so thick and heavy in your stomach that you couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe beyond him.

He’d never say it out loud, not with his outwardly prince-like demeanour but, he wanted you to depend on him.

To be desperate for him.

And still, he carried on, lazy circles over your clit, fluttering, teasing, devastatingly slow. You could barely move. Couldn’t see past the black silk blindfold tied securely over your eyes. The world beyond your body, beyond his touch, had long since ceased to exist.

And Crowe?

Well, he was having the time of his life watching you fall apart.

You couldn’t hear anything from the TV, not that it mattered anyways, Crowe had made sure of that, slipping noise-canceling headphones over your ears before your little ‘session’ started, robbing you of everything but the sensation of his touch. Every little sound, every quiet breath, was drowned out, leaving you helplessly tuned in to the language of his hands.

His lips brushed over the nape of your neck, warm and insistent, while a lithe hand traced idle patterns along your belly, teasing, never settling in one place for too long. Your body twitched under his touch, your walls pulsing, desperate, stretched around the fingers he’d kept inside you for what felt like an eternity.

He had you like this for over an hour now, helpless, trembling, on the verge of being ruined, and judging by the lazy way his fingers curled inside you, he had no intention of finishing up anytime soon.

Shifting beneath you, Crowe adjusted his position on the couch, and then very slowly, he pressed his fingers deeper, curling them upwards against that sweet spot of yours.

The sudden jolt of pleasure made you cry out, your body lurching forward, only to collapse back against his chest with a broken moan. You needed more, needed everything, needed to come undone right there in his lap.

Your restless movements made him push in even deeper, his fingers unrelenting, stroking against that spot inside you that made everything else dissolve into white-hot pleasure. A sob tore from your throat, but it fell into empty space, unheard, swallowed by the silence the headphones forced upon you.

You needed to cum. You ached for it, craved it, your mind reduced to nothing but the singular, all-consuming desire to be taken apart completely. You wanted him to ruin you, to fuck you so hard you’d feel it for days, to have him finish inside you so deep that the evidence of it would spill out with every step you took afterward.

The thought made you shudder, made you grind desperately against his hand, trying, begging, to chase your release. But Crowe wasn’t feeling generous. Not yet.

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers completely.

The loss was excruciating. You wailed, the sound broken, desperate, a sob ripping free as you clenched around nothing. Your body trembled, your blindfold damp with fresh tears, your frustration boiling over into full-body tremors.

Crowe’s hands skimmed over your trembling form, stroking over your thighs, your stomach, as if to soothe the pain.

'Not yet', he mouthed against the curve of your shoulder. Soft kisses followed, an apology, a promise, whispered against your skin, though the words themselves were lost to the silence around you.

Only once your sobs had quieted, once the peak you’d been dragged toward had dissolved into something distant, did he finally move again.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips. The first teasing press of his cock nudging against your entrance.

Your head lolled forward, your whole body quaking, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as he continued, taunting, patient, easing himself against you in a torturously slow rhythm.

Crowe, ever so cruel, ever so loving, had told you before this had even begun that he’d only let you cum once the movie ended.

What you didn’t know was that he had paused it ages ago.

Crowe waited until you stopped shaking before he started again, slowly pushing himself into you, and waiting until you were settled onto his cock. He pressed soft kisses onto your skin, along your back, your neck, your shoulders.

Then once you were calmed down, he started fucking into you, stretching you open all over again. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, you wailed at the sensation, only now realizing that you were begging out loud for him, desperate, babbling, incoherent.

You were so fucking close. Your entire body tensed, every nerve set aflame, and then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, your release crashed into you like a tidal wave. The tension shattered, sending violent tremors through your frame as you convulsed in Crowe’s arms, your body surrendering to him completely.

You were still mindlessly babbling, blindly seeking his lips, but they were just out of reach. Instead, Crowe’s hands slid down to your hips, holding you flush against him as he rocked you slowly back and forth, keeping you full, keeping you stuffed. You whimpered, your body too raw, too sensitive, the aftershocks still rolling through you in weak, helpless tremors.

Then he slowed, just enough to reach up and untie the drenched blindfold. It fell to the side of the couch as your vision returned, hazy and unfocused. You blinked sluggishly, adjusting to the dim room before tilting your head up to look at him, only to find disappointment in his eyes.

A soft kiss against your temple. A chiding murmur.

“My starlight.”

Your stomach twisted at his tone.

“You only had ten more minutes left.”

Your eyes flickered to the television. Spirited Away. One of your favorite movies. And sure enough, the little bar at the bottom of the tv screen taunted you by displaying that only ten minutes remained.

“I-”

Crowe hushed you with a gentle press of his fingers to your clit. A soft circle. A gentle touch. It sent a full-body shudder through you, your limbs twitching against him from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm.

“You couldn’t wait just a little longer?” His voice was sweet. Too sweet. “How impatient, my goddess.”

And then, he thrust himself back in, slow and steady.

“Now,” he murmured, lips grazing your ear. “What’s to be done about that, hm?”

Another thrust. Deep and measured. His cock filled you completely, stretching you all over again. Your fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his shirt, fresh tears welling in your eyes as your body fought to process the relentless pleasure and the aching overstimulation at the same time.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he praised, voice thick with satisfaction.

“C-Crowe, please…”

“So warm.” A thrust.

“So wet.” Kisses along your throat, soft, possessive.

A moan, hushed and breathless, spilled against your skin as he bottomed out, stuffing you full. Your eyes rolled back, the sensation overwhelming, every inch of him dragging in and out with practiced control. You were sobbing now, gasping for air, trembling like a leaf in his arms.

It was too much. Too much. It burned, your body was strung too tight, almost past its limits. And yet, you wanted to be good. You needed to be good for him.

One more thrust. Then another. The pleasure built, almost unbearable, but at the same time unstoppable, and then you came again, this time it was painful and all-consuming.

The pain mixed in with the pleasure, the intensity of it all tore through you at once, your body locking up as the orgasm crashed over you.

Your scream barely made it past your lips before Crowe shoved his fingers into your mouth, muffling your cries as he kept you still, kept you grounded, kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“There you are, my love,” he purred.

His eyes were glazed, dark, fixated on you, trembling, drooling over his fingers, completely and utterly undone.

“Just a little longer, okay?”

And then, his rhythm changed. Smooth, controlled thrusts gave way to something more desperate, more erratic. His breath hitched, his hips snapping forward as he chased his own release, using your body to reach his end. You whined in protest, your body already spent, already ruined, but there was no stopping him now.

“P-Please…”

You screamed. Your body spasmed, another orgasm ripping through you violently, liquid spilling between your thighs, soaking his lap. Crowe groaned, a sharp, guttural sound, as he pulled you down onto him, grinding deep, burying himself to the hilt. A higher-pitched moan caught in his throat as he spilled inside you, thick and hot, filling you to the brim.

A shaky hand caught your chin, tilting your face up, and he was now kissing you, his tongue chasing yours, consuming you entirely, sealing his satisfaction against your lips.

The room was silent. Humid. Only the sound of shared, ragged breaths filled the space, the air thick with sweat and sex. Crowe pressed one last kiss to your lips, murmuring praises between the lazy, lingering touches.

“I’m so, so proud of you my starlight.”

You only barely registered the words. Spent, boneless, you melted against his chest, tracing lazy patterns against his shirt with trembling fingers. Your body was almost vibrating, exhausted, but the warmth of his embrace kept you safe, kept you grounded. Your breath evened out, your eyes fluttering shut. Sleep was already pulling you under.

Crowe huffed softly, shaking you gently. “No, you need to shower.”

You didn’t move.

He sighed. Oh well.

You could clean up in the morning.

💫˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ caught you! | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

i finally pulled myself up to write a TKaTB fic.

i wanted a reader who was freaky like sol and matched his freak LOL, so we have reader who is aware and not a complete airhead!!

i’m also brain rotted about this man sooo bad it’s insane guys help!

enjoy ;P

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62611723

word count: 3747

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: stalking, semi-public sex, blowjobs, manipulation

🌱˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

The library was quiet today, save for the soft rustle of pages from students studying diligently and the occasional creak of the old bookshelves that your university so desperately needed to replace.

You liked it this way, a nice, quiet place far away from everyone, where you could just relax and be alone, and where Solivan’s eyes could follow you without drawing much attention. He was sitting nearby, alone at the end of the big oak table tucked away in one of the library’s four corners.

You had purposefully chosen a spot where he could watch you, presenting yourself out in the open for him. Pretty generous of you, honestly. You could feel it. Sol’s gaze, always lingering on you, his presence a shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision.

Occasionally, you’d glance up on purpose, just to catch a glimpse of his eyes meeting yours before he buried himself back into whatever book he had open, his face flushing that pretty red colour.

It was comforting in a twisted, intoxicating way. You already knew he was infatuated with you. It started off quite tame, to be fair; you hadn’t really noticed him before since he always sat at the back of the class, away from judgmental eyes.

But then the little things started. A shadow following you home, or that burning feeling of being watched.

Then one windy evening, you came back home to your apartment to find your window lock broken, and the place freezing because of it. Naturally, you freaked out. You called Crowe to come assess the damage, check if anything was missing, and to keep you company while you tied a flimsy ribbon around the latch, hoping it would be enough to keep your stalker out.

Unfortunately, Sol needed a lot more than ribbon to deter him.

That same night, he oh so easily undid your makeshift lock and slid right up next to your unconscious sleeping body, stroking your hair and holding your hand as if you were lovers.

Unlucky for him, you were a light sleeper, and the slight brush of his hand woke you. The room was so dark, save for the beams of moonlight streaming through the same window Sol had crept through not too long ago. You could only catch pieces of green and black hair shuffling around as you lay, somewhat petrified, in bed.

Then he spoke.

“My sweet pumpkin… sorry about your lock. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered to you sweetly.

You felt him shift, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before sliding out of your bed, bidding your “sleeping” self goodbye as he slipped back out through your window. By the time you scurried to see his figure outside, he was already gone.

The next day, his actions couldn’t have been more different. You met him face to face in your art class, where you were paired as new partners for the upcoming project.

“My name is Solivan Brugmansia. Sol for short,” he said.

It was the same voice.

At the time, your blood ran cold as you realized the tall, brooding man in front of you was the same one who’d been lying next to you in bed the night before, breaking into your apartment just for a few moments of bliss with you. You.

Were you creeped out? Of course. Scared? Maybe a little. But for some sick reason, you were flattered that he’d taken such a liking to you.

“Sol… like the sun? That’s so cute, considering you’re dressed so… alternatively,” you said, deciding to experiment a little.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against the thick black-and-green choker he wore. Your fingers moved lower to lift the key necklace around his neck, examining it carefully. Hmm. It didn’t look like a key to your apartment, so that was good.

You looked up at him, offering a sweet smile as you stepped back. You noticed how red he’d gotten and how he murmured under his breath about how pretty you were, clearly under the assumption that you hadn’t heard.

Oh, you were going to have fun with this one.

-

Today, you decided to push him further and tease him a little to see how he’d react.

Standing up from your seat, you knew Sol’s eyes would already be on you, watching and studying your every move as you walked over to the English section. To be fair, you actually did need some books for an upcoming research paper but you grabbed one at random in all honesty.

As you scanned the shelves, you found the perfect target: a book just out of reach. You stretched your arm dramatically, fingers brushing the spine but never quite making contact. You let out a dramatic, frustrated sigh, even pouting a little as you looked up at the book, knowing full well Sol was watching.

“Having trouble?” His voice was velvet, smooth and dark, as he appeared from nowhere. His tall figure loomed just behind you, towering over your own, and close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

You turned to him, feigning surprise. “Oh, Sol! I didn’t see you there. Could you help me, please?” You looked up at him with pouty lips and big eyes, clasping your hands together as you played the damsel in distress. And he was eating it up.

His pierced lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes, those intense, bright eyes, burned with something else. “Let me help you.”

He reached over your shorter body, effortlessly pulling the book from its place. His arm brushed yours, and you shivered, allowing the reaction to linger longer than necessary. He noticed. Of course he did.

“Oh, thank you, Sol,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “God, you’re such a lifesaver for me!”

Something flickered in his gaze. Satisfaction? Possessiveness? Maybe it was a bit of both. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

You took the book from his hands, letting your fingers graze his. A deliberate move, subtle but effective. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you caught it.

“Are you studying by yourself?”

Holding the book he’d just grabbed for you close to your chest, an idea popped into your head.

“Yeah, I was uh… sitting over there.”

Sol’s gaze shifted as he gestured to the big oak table he’d been seated at earlier. Thank god he’d picked a more isolated area to reside in.

“Oh my god, perfect! I’ll come sit with you!”

Before he could get an answer in, you zipped back to your study area to gather your bag and papers, carrying it all over to the empty table, save for Sol’s setup, and dropped it all on top.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” he said, glancing at you as he slipped back onto his chair. “I’m fine on my own.”

“I like being with you, though,” you replied, your voice now more quiet since, well, you were in the library. “With you.”

He blinked, his cheeks flushing as he tried to focus back on his book, but you weren’t about to make it that easy for him. You slipped into the chair beside him, leaning slightly over the table as you pretended to skim through the pages of the book he’d grabbed for you.

“Hey, Sol,” you said, your tone sweet but laced with mischief. “Do you think Edgar Allan Poe was really that depressing, or do you think he was just dramatic?”

He looked at you, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Poe… was a complicated man,” he began. “His life was filled with tragedy, but I think he used his writing as a way to… cope.”

“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head as if deep in thought. “I don’t know, some of his stuff just seems so… intense. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to get it?” You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re incredibly intelligent.”

“Aww, you really think so?” you cooed, leaning even closer until your face was mere inches from his. His breath hitched, and you swore you saw his grip tighten on the edge of the table.

Before he could respond, you shifted, swinging a leg over to settle yourself on his lap. His entire body went rigid beneath you, and his face turned a deep, furious red.

“What are you doing?” he stammered, his hands hovering awkwardly near your hips, unsure of where to place them.

“Getting comfortable,” you said simply, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Is that okay?”

He swallowed hard, his hands finally resting on your waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Y-yeah, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his breaths came out more quickly, staggered, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. The hard press of his cock hidden beneath the layers of clothing between you only confirmed it, and you smiled to yourself, savouring the bit of power you held over him.

You hummed, pretending to be clueless about his… growing problem as you skimmed your books, jotting down notes here and there, while Sol struggled to even get through one paragraph of the book he was reading, your body on top of his becoming too much of a distraction.

The girl of his dreams, the one he snuck out to see every night, the one he studied so closely and had fantasies about, was, right now, in this very moment, sitting on his lap. Her plush ass perfectly slotted against his body. And it was driving him insane.

“Sol?” you asked suddenly, your voice cutting through his haze. “You haven’t turned the page in a while. Is it boring?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and panicked, as if you’d caught him doing something forbidden. “N-no, it’s fine,” he stammered, his hands flexing against your waist. “Just… distracted.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Distracted? By what?” You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Is something on your mind? You can talk to me, you know…”

His breath hitched again, and he clutched you tighter as if grounding himself. “No,” he whispered, voice low and strained. “I-I’m okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he froze beneath you. “If you’re so sure,” you murmured, your voice laced with a little bit of concern. “Because if you need to talk I’m always here for you sweetness.”

Yeah that did it.

Sol’s pants felt so tight as the curve of your ass shifted on and off his hard, clothed cock, and he bit his lip to try and stifle any noises as you moved around. His hands gripped your waist as he spoke into your ear, low and raspy.

Sol’s hands trembled as they clutched your waist, his knuckles whitening with restraint. “Please… sit still,” he begged, his voice strained and heavy with need.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his plea, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, shifting just slightly, enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. “You seem a little tense, Sol. Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and desperate. “I-I need… I should go.”

Before you could respond, he gently lifted you off his lap and bolted from the table, his long strides carrying him toward the exit of the library and to the left, down the hall to where the bathrooms were tucked away.

You watched him disappear through the library exit, a slow grin spreading across your face. How adorable. He thought he could hide from you.

Leaving your things behind, you followed. The hallway leading to the bathrooms was dimly lit, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above, reminding you for a moment of how shitty this university could be.

You pushed the door open silently, locking it behind you with ease and stepped inside, finding Sol leaning over the sink, his head bowed, gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles were pale. He was panting, looking as if he might pass out from just being teased by you, his hard-on visible to you as it strained against his pants.

“Running away from me, Sol?” you asked, your voice lilting as you closed the distance between you.

He froze, lifting his head up instantly, his reflection in the mirror staring back at you, panic swirling in his bright eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he turned around to face you.

You stopped just behind him, close enough that your breath brushed along the nape of his neck. “You ran off so suddenly… I got worried,” you murmured, your fingers trailing lightly along the edge of his sleeve, brushing his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong, Sol? Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no,” he choked out, refusing to meet your gaze. His hands flexed against the sink, and you noticed the way his shoulders tensed, his whole body tense with barely-contained frustration.

“You’re lying to me,” you whispered, stepping closer, your chest now pressed flush against his. You slid your hands up his arms slowly, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “You’re so worked up, Sol… what were you planning to do while you're here?”

“I—I wasn’t going to–” he stuttered, but the words died on his lips as your hands moved to his waist, your fingers brushing along the waistband of his pants.

“Shh,” you cooed, standing on the tips of your toes and brushing some of his hair out of the way to press a gentle kiss to his neck. “No need to lie to me sweetness. I already know.”

His breath hitched audibly, and his hands clenched the sink harder as he fought to maintain control. “You can’t just… do this to me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with desperation.

“Do what?” you asked innocently, your lips trailing to his ear. “Help you? Because it seems to me like you need it, Sol.”

You let your fingers dip lower, teasing the button of his pants as you whispered, “So tell me… do you want my help?”

His resolve crumbled in an instant. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whimper. “Please.”

Sol’s hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly, his knuckles were turning white with restraint, but his body was betraying him. He was trembling with need, his chest heaving, every breath shallow and hitched. You could feel his thighs tremble as your hands deftly moved to unzip his pants, undoing some buttons along the way.

You took your time, savoring the moment with this gorgeous man crumbling under your touch and gaze. Slowly, you pressed your body flush against his, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You could feel the stiffness of his arousal, throbbing against the confines of his boxers, and it made your own… area pulsate in response.

“Sol…” you whispered against his ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. So desperate for me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands still resting against the sink, his body shaking as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

“I can’t… I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned, his voice cracking. “I need you… now.”

You smiled, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You knew exactly what he wanted, what his body was begging for. You slid your fingers down the waistband of his boxers, barely grazing his skin, and Sol’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward in anticipation.

“Patience, Sol,” you teased, your fingers circling his cock gently, slowly, barely touching but just enough contact to make him shudder. “You’ve been so good for me so far, haven’t you?”

His hands flexed against the sink again, and he let out a low, guttural moan. “I need you,” he whispered again, more urgently now, his voice raw with desperation.

You didn’t make him wait any longer.

With a swift motion, you freed him from the remains of his clothing, your hands finally wrapping around his cock completely. Sol’s body jerked at the contact, his head falling forward onto your shoulder as a sharp gasp left his lips. He was so sensitive, so responsive, and it made your heart race.

“You’re mine now,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding. You began to move your hand slowly, torturously, teasing him just enough to make him squirm, but never enough to let him find release.

Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need, his hands gripping the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. “Fuck…” he muttered. “Please… I can’t take it.”

“You can take it, Sol,” you whispered, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve made it this far, haven’t you? You’re going to finish when I tell you to. Understand?”

He nodded his head, never disagreeing with your demands, his eyes were glazed with lust for you, his body twitching with every slow stroke from your hands. “Yes… Yes, I understand.”

Sol whined softly to himself, as you jerked your hand up and down. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, only for you to sweetly tell him to open them back up, of course he obeyed, watching your slow, deliberate movements. The way you were hovering over him right now, your eyes boring into his, as your hands were wrapped around his cock, applying more pressure.

“You’re being so good for me Sol…” you purred, slowly sinking towards the ground, not caring about being in a bathroom, or even caring that you were doing this at your university. You looked up at him sweetly, asking him politely to hold your hair back, and he did it right away, after all how could he refuse?

He gently pulled all your hair back, somewhat neatly wrapping it around his hand, careful to not pull too tightly. He felt your warm hand gently stroke his cock, your lips just inches away, so so close.

Then you started to tease him. Licking up the underside of his length, gently pressing kisses from the base to the tip, your tongue teasing him as he whimpered and started to shake underneath you, completely submitting himself to you.

He could feel your hot breath as you hummed and toyed around with him. You slowly started to take his whole length into your mouth, inch by inch until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. He was in heaven.

Sol gasped at the sensation, his hand tugging at your hair as he watched you bob your head up and down, your hot, wet mouth, and shivered at the way his cock hit the back of your throat.

“P-Please… hah… pumpkin…” Sol called out for you. His legs shook gently as his climax slowly built up, soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips as he bit down on one hand to muffle his noises, your tempo never letting up as you continued to suck on him.

“Can I cum? Please… let me cum for you pumpkin.” He was begging quietly in the bathroom, watching you suck and hearing you make a muffled ‘mhm’ noise with your pretty plump lips wrapped around him, granting him permission without words.

Within seconds, his hands flew to the back of your head, pushing you down as he came into your mouth, moaning softly as he did, and you graciously let him, taking it all as you felt his fingers dig into your scalp. After a few moments he took a deep breath, releasing his grip on you, and falling back against the cool countertop of the bathroom sink.

You looked up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all.

Freak.

Slowly, you started to stand up with a satisfied smile, your eyes meeting Sol’s pretty red-orange ones. He was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling, his skin flushed with heat.

You took a step back, eyes never leaving his, and fixed your own clothes with a bit of deliberate slowness, just to tease him. You tucked your shirt back into your uniform skirt, your fingers trailing over the fabric that dipped between your breasts, noticing that Sol’s gaze followed your every movement, still dazed, and still processing everything that had just happened in the bathroom.

Once you were finished, you stepped closer to him, your body just inches away from his. You tilted your head slightly, studying him with that playful glint in your eyes.

“Guess we’re even now, huh?” you whispered, your lips curling into a sly grin.

Sol’s eyes flickered to yours, his confusion evident even with that lingering haze of pleasure clouding his mind. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I know you’ve been sneaking into my apartment at night, Sol… I can hear you when you’re outside my window, and well… playing with yourself in my bed.”

You pulled back, eyes locking with his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, the sudden panic flashing in his gaze. “I’ll make it easier for you though and leave the window unlocked for you tonight, darling,” you purred, your voice dripping with both sweetness and mischief.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you straightened up, straightening your clothes one last time, watching as Sol stood frozen, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“Don’t keep me waiting, okay?” you teased, giving him a quick kiss, before turning away and walking towards the door.

You pulled it open, leaving him standing in the bathroom alone to process what had just happened, as you stepped out into the hallway. The last thing you heard before the door clicked shut was his soft mutter, “Damn… she knows?”

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you walked away, knowing exactly what would happen that night. He was yours from now on.

🌱˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ unraveled by you | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

hi guys hehehe, I'm stuck with the visual novel brain rot so I wrote about casper cause beyond the bet was delicious and I craved more of him ;P

anyways, this is cross-posted from my ao3 account and dedicated to my wife who watched me write this in my psych class (your future therapist writes fanfic I know)

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62269831

word count: 3304

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: crying, overstimulation, strap ons, sub!casper

👻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Sprawled across the bed, Casper clung to the sheets as if they were the only thing grounding him in this moment. His voice, hoarse and uneven, spilled out in helpless murmurs, each word trembling with longing. His half-lidded eyes flickered weakly, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak, but no words left his mouth. 

He reached out, fingers curling into the empty space around him, searching for something—someone—but finding only the plush comforter on your bed. He couldn’t do anything while he was under you, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

The reaper’s skin was completely flushed, soft pink and red contrasting dramatically against his normally pale– almost white skin. He was exposed to the gentle caress of the air conditioning within the bedroom the two of them were currently in. 

Your wandering hands glided smoothly over Casper’s soft, unblemished inner thighs, the sweat with the remnants of his previous releases, clinging to your fingertips. Every deliberate touch left him trembling, helpless beneath your teasing, his body betraying him with shivers of overstimulation. He’d unraveled beneath you completely, spent from four rounds of you teasing and making him cum, yet the aching emptiness in his untouched hole left him yearning for more than your hands or mouth.

"E-Enough..." Casper's voice wavered, hushed and hoarse, each syllable trembling with desperation.

As much as he adored you, your touch like fire across his skin, the way your presence consumed him wholly, he couldn’t handle another round of your relentless teasing. Not now. All he craved in that moment was to be pinned against the mess of your crumpled sheets and to be fucked, hard and fast, no space left for a single thought or breath. Your lips lazily pulled into a seemingly innocent smile. 

"You've tired out, and I still haven't come once my little reaper…" you purred, flashing your underwear to him from beneath your small skirt, your fingers dipping down beneath the thin, soaked fabric as you shoved it to the side, pumping your fingers in and out slowly, ensuring Casper was watching every single movement.

A soft moan escaped as you shamelessly pleasured yourself right on top of him, teasing him once more without a care, and after a moment, you withdrew the same hand– glistening with your own arousal, and held it up to Casper’s mouth, gently pressing them against his soft, supple lips.

“Open please.” and he did. The sweet boy took your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, savouring the sweet taste from your pussy as if it was the world’s best treat, looking up at you with those pretty needy red eyes as he released your fingers, a trail of saliva left behind.

Casper’s lust-filled eyes followed your every move, dark and hazy with desire as your hands traced along his trembling thighs. The salty-sweet liquid trickling from his tip glistened in paths down to meet the thin sheen of sweat clinging to his flushed skin. With a teasing smirk, you let your pointer finger glide through the sticky trail, drawing soft patterns that left his thighs quivering under your touch.

Just when your hand was about to reach Casper’s leaking cock, said male's legs jolted slightly, squeezing his legs shut to somehow stop your hand from touching him anymore.

"N-No, no.. No more.." He whimpered, his sweat-matted hands clenching tightly onto the sheets as he shuddered. You tilted your head calmly, removing your hand out from in between his thighs. You lifted your fingers to your own mouth, licking the cum right off the tips. Casper’s head hung in shame; his embarrassment was obvious, even when you could not see his reddened cheeks.

You cupped the reaper’s chin, tilting his head up toward you, leaving no room for protest as your gaze locked onto his. “Are you really sure you want me to leave you like this? Sensitive, needy, and so, so bothered?” you cooed sweetly, the words dripping with mock innocence. Soft kisses followed, starting at his temple and trailing down, your nose brushing against his heated skin with deliberate tenderness until you were nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lingering, waiting for his answer.

Casper let out a shaky sigh, his back arching instinctively into your touch. His body betrayed him, trembling from exertion and burning with unfulfilled desire.

You couldn’t help but savor the sight before you: the reaper’s lip quivering, his thighs trembling, and his hands reaching aimlessly for something to ground himself. Droplets of sweat ran down his temples, his body flinching and twitching at even the slightest touch. He was utterly, beautifully wrecked for you. Perfect.

“P-Please... Sunshine, I…” His voice faltered, the plea dying on his lips as his chin remained firmly in your grasp, holding him exposed and vulnerable.

A sly smile tugged at your lips as you trailed your nose back up, lightly grazing his ear before nipping at the sensitive lobe. The sharp intake of breath you earned was music to your ears. “Please... what, Casper?” you murmured, your voice dropping into a low, sultry rumble that sent shivers down his spine. Each word carried with it the heat of your breath, ghosting over his bare neck.

Casper’s arousal spiked, a desperate whimper escaping his lips as his hips bucked forward, grinding helplessly against your thigh. God, he wanted it so bad, but the thought of having to beg made his chest tighten and his pride rebel. Yet, the way you teased him, the way your words wrapped around his resolve, made him wonder how much longer he could hold out.

Your intimate moments were always a balanced mix of merciless pounding and brat taming or soft, tender love-making. Dominance shifted fluidly between you depending on the mood, but this? This was something entirely different. 

The blend of teasing caresses and sweet nothings thrown into the mix left him desperate for you, caught between the soft cruelty of your restraint and the aching need building in his body. His cock and chest, evidence of your torment, leaving him trembling and needy for more.

“Y-You know... Sunshine…” His stammered words hung in the air, his voice cracking with frustration and embarrassment. Lowering his head in shame, he tried to hide his flushed face as you finally let go of his chin. But the moment was short-lived. As soon as his hips shifted, seeking relief, you caught him, your hands firm as you forced him still. Despite the heat pooling in your core at his boldness, you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

Your fingers brushed through his damp, white locks, the strands clinging to his sweat-slick forehead as you cocked a brow, feigning obliviousness. “Oh?” you mused, your tone laced with mock innocence. “Maybe... if you ask nicely, I’ll remember what it is you’re talking about.”

A teasing smile curled your lips as you leaned in, planting a soft, deliberate kiss just behind his ear. The reaper shuddered, clenching instinctively as though imagining the fullness he craved so badly.

He knew exactly what you were doing. He knew what you wanted.

And as much as he hated the thought of giving in, he couldn’t wait any longer. Not with the way his body screamed for release and your every touch ignited him further.

I... I want you to... fuck me... hard." His voice cracked, hips grinding desperately against the sheets, the raw need in his words sending a thrill through you. Your once innocent smile quickly morphed into something far more mischievous.

"How exactly do you want me to do it?" you asked, your voice low and teasing, your hands firmly gripping his hips, holding him in place.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you spoke, your words wrapped in seduction, coaxing soft throbs and twitches from him. Every teasing second was a slow burn, building anticipation.

"J-Just do it already... fuck—Sunshine!" His whine was desperate, eyes squeezed shut as he wriggled in your grip, hips grinding helplessly, overwhelmed by the mix of pleasure and frustration. His voice faltered on your nickname, caught between longing and the overwhelming need for you.

"Hm, well, since you've been so good for me, my love, I suppose I'll give you what you want." You pulled back just enough to let your breath cool his heated skin, watching him tremble in response. The tension in the air was palpable, and his body was already on edge.

"On your feet. Now." The command was sudden, firm, and a part of him loved that. He struggled to rise, his legs trembling as he shuffled across the bed, knees buckling under him, but he didn't dare touch himself. He knew the consequences, your endless teasing would make him wait longer, and he couldn't bear that.

As you rose from the mattress, you made your way behind him, your hands steady as you pushed him forward with one swift motion, pinning him against the bed, bent over for you. A soft whine escaped his lips, and his cheek pressed into the plush surface of the bed, eyes closed tight, body instinctively reacting to your dominance. You wasted no time shedding your underwear, letting the fabric drop to the floor in one smooth motion.

"Stay. Be good for me, baby. Won’t you?" you purred, your lips brushing gently against his neck before stepping back, grabbing the belt-like contraption. The click of it snapping into place as you tugged on the buckles and straps, nestling against your hips, made him shiver—not from the cool air lazily blowing from your AC unit, but just from the anticipation of what was to come next for him.

Once you were ready, your gaze turned back to him, scanning him for any sign of discomfort. You wanted this to be just as much about him enjoying it as it was for you.

"Do you need any more preparation, baby? Or do you feel ready?" you asked softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his hole, applying gentle pressure that made him tremble with pleasure.

"N-No, I’m ready... please, please, Sunshine..." His plea came out as a desperate groan, his body arching, pressing back against you, seeking more. He could feel the artificial cock pressing against him, making him tremble even harder.

You kissed his neck again, soft and sweet, before turning his face toward you, claiming his lips in a kiss that left him breathless.

"Get ready. I might go a bit more rough than usual," you warned, teasingly pressing just the tip inside, feeling him shiver under your touch. His breath caught, soft groans escaping him as you pulled out again, heightening his frustration.

"Yes, yes..." His voice was barely a whisper, a breathy whimper as you continued to tease him.

Slowly, carefully, you eased into him, the gentle pressure sending waves of heat through him. He gasped, his body still, frozen in the moment, mouth agape in silent ecstasy. You checked in with him, making sure he was ready for what would come next, and when you got the green light, you gave in to the brutal pace, each movement building to an intensity neither of you could hold back.

You let out a low, satisfied snicker as incoherent curses spilled from Casper’s lips. His grunts and groans echoed around the room, weakly tugging at his wrists, trying to escape your hold. But you didn’t relent, your grip on him unyielding, halting any movement.

"Is this... ah– what you wanted, my little reaper?" you breathed, pressing deeper into him, the thick length of you creating that delicious friction against his needy hole.

"Keep your back arched for me... Yes, just like that, good boy." Your eyes glinted with hunger, watching him obey, his ass pushing back against you with each thrust, the rhythm never slowing, never faltering.

Casper couldn’t form coherent words, he could only nod fervently, his moans and whimpers spilling out, each sound a perfect response that stroked your ego. With every thrust, his cheeks slapped against your thighs, the rhythm of it a sensual symphony. Each movement drew out a desperate moan, his body trembling as his drool dripped down his chin. It felt so good, and you knew deep down that no one else could make him feel this way.

"S-Sunshine... fuck, augh... Mmph!" His voice cracked, his desperate sounds only pushing you to thrust harder, deeper, fucking into him mercilessly.

You latched onto the tender spot at the base of his neck, biting down and sucking on the fading bruise from a previous round. You knew exactly where his pleasure points were, and using that knowledge, you broke him with ease.

A strangled cry left Casper’s lips when you hit the spot again, his eyes snapping wide open, the flood of pleasure making coherent thought impossible. He gasped and shuddered as you stroked his sweet spot with the tip of your cock, the sensation pushing him closer to the edge. A long, desperate cry of pleasure tore from him.

With a soft laugh, you shifted positions, pulling Casper off the bed for a moment. No longer was he bent over; now, you had him laid back, surrounded by a fortress of pillows and plushies against the headboard. You leaned in close, teasing him, your hips snapping against his with a brutal rhythm, thrusting deep into his already leaking hole.

"Did I find it?" you whispered, taunting him as you thrust once, twice, three times. Each hard push earned a pleading, broken sound from him, those sweet, desperate noises you loved. You knew you were getting closer, the sounds of his pleasure telling you that you were breaking him down, bit by bit. This was too good.

Tell me how it feels when I do this," you murmured, thrusting deep into his hole, hitting his prostate with a force that made him gasp.

"Ugh... Ahh..! S-Sunshine! Please, keep d-doing that..." His voice trembled, turning his head to the side, covering his face with an arm as his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Let me see you, my little reaper... be a good boy for me, won’t you?” you cooed softly, coaxing him to move his arm away from his face. You reached out to intertwine your fingers with his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. For a moment, you slowed, grinding into him with sweet, deliberate movements, drawing soft moans and gasps from his lips.

“Mm… S-Sunshine, please... I’m so c-close...” His breath hitched, his body trembling as you held his hand, your other hand slipping under his thigh to support the new pace you set.

The pounding resumed, deep and steady, aimed directly at his sweet spot. Casper’s legs shook with each thrust, his body a mess of pleasure as he cried out your name, breathless and desperate.

"You’re so needy, my little reaper... you like it when I fuck you, don’t you?" Your voice was soft, almost teasing, as you watched him melt under your touch. His legs trembled more, his body quivering with every deep, satisfying thrust that hit him right where he needed.

"Gonna come... Hah... Hah... Sunshine!" His voice cracked, his body shaking violently, tears slipping from his eyes as they mixed with the sweat on his flushed face. A sob escaped him, raw and broken, and it sent a shiver up your spine. Forget what you'd said earlier—this sound, the sobs mixed with pleading moans, was your favorite. You had broken him completely, his body now a vessel for nothing but pleasure. Your thrusts grew erratic, but you never lost your aim, always hitting his prostate.

"M-Me too..." you whispered, breathless, eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the sound of flesh against flesh, the wet squelches, and the way his body responded to your every move. The pressure in your own body mounted, your hips moving faster as you neared your release.

Casper came first, his body spasming violently from the overwhelming sensation of cumming for the fifth time that night. His back arched up off the bed as a long, desperate whine echoed throughout the room. His cum spilled from his tip, pooling onto his toned stomach. You didn’t stop, though—your pace remained frantic as you fucked him through his final orgasm, watching as his body twitched and shivered from the overstimulation.

“F-Fuck, Cas, I-I’m so close, baby...” you moaned, breathless and frantic, your body tightening as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. Casper’s cries only pushed you further, the overstimulation driving you wild.

Your hips faltered, and you finally came, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm, your lips parted and slightly red from biting them.

Both of you were breathless, unable to move, lying there in the same positions for a moment, letting the aftershocks of your climax pass. Casper’s body collapsed back against the pillows, and you took a few moments to catch your breath. With shaky hands, you unlatched the strap from your hips, carefully undoing the straps and buckles before placing it at the end of the bed. You slumped down beside him, exhausted, your body still humming with pleasure.

--

You nuzzled your nose against Casper’s neck again as you had both returned from the bathroom to the freshly made bed. "Sorry, sorry, I must've gone overboard. You've never collapsed like that before." You chuckled softly, your voice warm with concern as you gently massaged his sore body, moving from his legs to his back.

Casper grumbled, shifting slightly to face you as you finally settled beside him. "No... I liked it. My ass hurts, though," he muttered, sounding both sheepish and a little embarrassed as his face grew red.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, even in his frustration. There was something endearing about his pouting expression, and the way he tried to hide it only made him more irresistible. His usual sleepwear now that he lived with you — a black tank top and shorts — clung to his toned body, and for a moment, you just took him in, appreciating the sight of him beside you.

Casper, feeling your gaze on him, buried his face into the pillow, his cheeks flushed in a mix of embarrassment and pride.

"Oh, c'mon," you teased, your voice playful. "You're such a baby, Cas. Can I not appreciate your cute face and body?" You slipped under the covers next to him, pressing your chest gently against his front. Your arm snaked around his waist, pulling his body closer to yours, the warmth between you soothing your souls. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a longing softness that made your heart ache.

"Just don't say those things out loud..." he muttered, his voice low and shy.

You smiled brightly, tilting his chin up gently so you could kiss him. The kiss was brief but filled with tenderness, and just as you pulled back, you murmured against his lips, "Whatever you say, my little reaper ."

Casper's eyes fluttered shut, a soft yawn escaping his lips as you nestled into his neck, your favorite spot. You felt his body relax against yours, his breathing steadying as he began to drift into a peaceful daze. You closed your eyes too, content and wrapped up in the warmth of the moment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice soft and sincere.

Casper, already half asleep, smiled gently. He shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to hold yours. "Love you more..." he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but never lacking affection. As you both lay there, tangled in the sheets and each other’s warmth, you drifted off to sleep together, grateful that he had hacked into your laptop all those months ago.

👻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

[heavensenteden]

✎ the friction between us | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

hi first tumblr post 🫶 this is cross posted from my ao3 acc <3 and dedicated to my wife conki

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59066512?view_adult=true

word count: 2660

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: making out, dry humping, orgasms, gay gay super gay

☀️˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Why him? Why choose him out of all the people in their rundown, depressing high school?

Sasuke could easily be labelled the stereotypical "nerd"; he was quiet, had good grades, and was more comfortable talking to teachers and instructors than his peers, who mostly thought he was weird.

He'd done a decent job of staying under the radar. Or so he thought. Apparently, he wasn't invisible enough because here he was, face-to-face with Naruto Uzumaki, the golden boy who played football, and unfortunately, the school's resident 'hottie'. According to every girl ever.

Wait, hottie? No. That would be weird coming from him. Wouldn't it?

At that moment, Naruto loomed over him, cornering Sasuke by his locker after his so-called friends dared him to bully the quiet, dark-haired kid for laughs.

"Hey, weirdo, you got any spare change? I'm staaaarving," Naruto teased, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he stepped closer.

Sasuke, who had just been trying to grab his textbook, swallowed the tightness in his throat. "Uh... no? I pack my own lunches." he said, his voice uncertain momentarily, then added with more confidence, "Even if I had spare money, it's not like I'd give it to you anyway."

Behind Naruto, his friends jeered. "Oooooh, you gonna let him talk to you like that?"

Naruto's expression shifted, a flush creeping up his neck, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment, even he couldn't tell. He would never let this "weird kid" get the better of him in front of his crew.

"You better watch yourself, Uchiha."

Closing the gap between them, Naruto shoved Sasuke hard into the open locker, slamming him against the metal inside. Sasuke let out a sharp gasp, pain flaring up his back. He shoved Naruto back with surprising strength in a rare burst of anger.

"Get the hell off me!"

Naruto stumbled, momentarily losing his balance.

There was no way, no fucking way, that this quiet, awkward kid had just put his hands on him. But as strange as it was, the area on his chest that Sasuke had touched, Naruto felt a burn, his skin tingling, almost like he was on fire. He brushed it off as nothing more than the rage in his veins.

"Whatever," Naruto growled, his voice low. "I didn't even want your stupid money anyway. Let's go."

Pushing past his friends, Naruto stormed off, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His so-called friends followed behind, laughing and nudging each other. But all Naruto could think about was how he would get back at Sasuke for daring to touch him.

- - -

All day, Naruto couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind, guilt gnawing at him. Him? Feeling bad for bullying Sasuke? What the hell was wrong with him?

He kept seeing the look on Sasuke's face, the flash of pain after Naruto shoved him and the anger that followed when Sasuke pushed him back. He had deserved it, though. He'd approached him so harshly, completely unprovoked. But still, the memory wouldn't leave him.

Pushing open the locker room door, Naruto slipped inside an hour early for gym class. He needed a moment alone, so he'd decided to skip a class. The room was empty, or so he thought, as he made his way to the sink, splashing cool water over his hands and face in a futile attempt to quiet his thoughts.

A sound, a faint shuffle, caught his attention.

"Hello?" Naruto called out, his voice echoing off the walls as he walked through the aisles of lockers. Turning the corner, he saw black hair hunched over one of the benches.

Sasuke.

Naruto smirked. "Look at you skipping class. And here I thought you were a goody two shoes, Uchiha."

Sasuke didn't respond; his attention focused on something in his hands.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. Don't tell me you're still mad about what happened earlier?"

Naruto laughed as he stepped before Sasuke, trying to meet his eyes. That's when he noticed what Sasuke was so intent on, a drawing of him.

Naruto's eyes widened. It was a detailed sketch of him in their highschool's football uniform, sweaty and glowing, every detail captured with surprising accuracy. His heart skipped a beat, and his face flushed as he instinctively snatched the drawing from Sasuke's hands.

"Hey! Give that back!" Sasuke snapped, his voice sharp as he lunged forward.

"What the hell, Uchiha? You drew a picture of me? Now that's weird."

Sasuke scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. It's for art class. We're studying sports figures and anatomy. Now give it back."

Naruto glanced at the drawing again, this time with more care. As much as he hated to admit it, Sasuke was talented. He had captured more than just his appearance, confidence and energy. Naruto's chest tightened, that same unfamiliar burn flaring up inside him.

He laughed, tossing the sketch back at Sasuke. "Whatever, you probably just wanted to keep it so you could, what, jerk off to it later? I am pretty good-looking, after all."

"Yeah, you're right; I'd moan like a bitch while doing it too."

Naruto froze for a second, staring at Sasuke's face. There it was again, that strange feeling from his words alone. Was he being serious? About his 'after school activities'? It made him feel... something he couldn't quite explain.

And he wanted more of it.

Naruto shifted awkwardly, rocking back and forth on his feet, the weight of his words feeling heavy as he cleared his throat.

"Uh, listen, Uchiha... I- uh... I'm sorry."

Sasuke glanced up, his brow furrowing in confusion but staying silent, waiting for more.

Naruto swallowed hard and continued, the words spilling out in a nervous ramble. "I'm sorry for, y'know, shoving you earlier. My friends dared me to pick on you, and I didn't want to say no, but it was... really uncool of me. And I promise I won't do anything like that again. I actually think you're... really cool. And, um, kinda pretty and smart. And your drawing, yeah, it's pretty good."

He trailed off, his throat tightening as each word slipped out. He could feel his face burning, embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Did he just call Sasuke pretty? His eyes stayed fixed on the tiled floor, studying the individual squares as if they might offer some sort of escape from the silence that followed.

"It's cool," Sasuke replied, his tone casual.

That's it? Naruto blinked once, then twice, his stomach twisting. After that whole awkward, rambling apology, all he got was a simple, "It's cool"?

Naruto frowned, stepping closer to Sasuke, who was now scrolling through something on his phone, seemingly disinterested.

"That's it? We're cool? That's all you've got to say?" Naruto huffed, crossing his arms, feeling the frustration bubble up.

Sasuke didn't even look up, his voice flat. "What else do you want, Naruto? A kiss on the lips, too? Jesus..."

Naruto's eyes widened, his breath catching at the unexpected response. "What?! No! I'm not- I'm not gay, okay? I don't... I don't kiss guys, Uchiha."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, smirking slightly as if he knew something Naruto didn't. "Yeah, whatever you say."

Naruto bristled, stepping closer, his frustration growing with every second. "I'm serious, you asshole."

The back-and-forth escalated, their voices growing louder until both stood, their faces inches apart, their foreheads almost touching as they argued. But then Naruto hesitated, his breath catching as he locked eyes with Sasuke.

For a moment, everything else around them faded. Naruto's breathing slowed, his pulse quickening. Something about Sasuke, his perfect contrast to Naruto's bright eyes and hair, the tension between them, made him freeze. He could feel the heat between their bodies, neither one backing down.

Naruto's heart pounded. Maybe they were always at each other's throats because of this, whatever this was, that was now crackling in the air between them.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted it to stop.

Naruto's breath hitched as Sasuke's lips brushed against his, a fleeting, almost teasing touch. But the intensity between them was far from over. Naruto could feel his heart pounding in his ears, the air thick with tension. His hands hovered in the air momentarily, wondering what to do.

Sasuke didn't hesitate as he grabbed the front of Naruto's shirt and pulled him in hard, their lips crashing together with a force that knocked Naruto's breath out.

The kiss between them wasn't soft or gentle; it was raw, urgent, and needed. Naruto's hovering hands flew to Sasuke's shoulders, gripping tight as the heat between them grew.

Sasuke's mouth was hot and demanding against his, lips parting as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against Naruto's with a force that made Naruto's knees go weak.

Sasuke's hands slid up, fingers tangling into Naruto's hair, pulling him even closer and refusing to let him pull away. Naruto's hands slipped down Sasuke's back, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric. His mind was hazy from the mix of heat and adrenaline coursing through him.

Sasuke pushed harder against him, kissing more feverishly. Naruto instinctively moved backwards, feeling his back hit against the cool tiles of the locker room wall.

The contrast between the cold wall and Sasuke's heated body pressing against him sent a shiver down his spine, making him groan into Sasuke's mouth.

Naruto's head was spinning, and only one thought could cut through the haze- need. His need for Sasuke only urged him to take things further. His voice was breathless, rough with desire, as he pulled away just enough to speak, their lips brushing with every word uttered.

"Sasuke… put your leg up."

Sasuke paused, eyes narrowing slightly, not fully understanding but curious. "What?"

"Your leg... against me," Naruto panted, his hands gripping Sasuke's hips, guiding him. "Trust me."

Sasuke's breath hitched, his dark eyes locked onto Naruto's. The tension thickened as he slowly lifted one leg, Naruto's hand grabbing underneath so he could wrap it around his hip. As soon as he did, Naruto moved forward, his body pressing even harder against Sasuke's, grinding together in a slow, heated rhythm.

Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath, his hands sliding up Naruto's chest underneath his shirt, gripping his shoulders for support.

The friction between them was delicious, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through their bodies. Naruto's hips moved in sync with Sasuke's, the intensity and need building with every grind, the rough fabric of their clothes only adding to the sensation.

"Fuck, Sasuke…" Naruto groaned, his voice low and raspy, his body moving instinctively, his hands sliding up Sasuke's thigh, holding him steady as their hips rocked together.

Sasuke's breathing became uneven, his head resting against Naruto's shoulder as he bit back a moan, his body betraying the calm facade he usually kept.

"More.. more please..." Sasuke whined softly into Naruto's ear, the plea from Sasuke going straight to his dick, clingling to him for dear life as their bodies slotted against each other perfectly.

Naruto's breath grew ragged as the intensity between them became almost unbearable. Their bodies moved together in a heated rhythm, every grind sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both. Sasuke's leg was still hooked around Naruto's waist, pulling him even closer, the friction between their hips growing more frantic, more desperate.

Naruto could barely think straight, his mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of Sasuke's body pressed against his, their mouths colliding in messy, heated kisses. Every grind of their hips sent another jolt of pleasure through him, and he could feel Sasuke trembling slightly, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"S-Sasuke..." Naruto groaned, his voice thick with need, his hands gripping Sasuke's hips tightly as they rocked together. The tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter, building to a point where he felt like he might snap at any second.

Sasuke bit down on his lip, his own body quivering from the intensity, his dark eyes half-lidded as he pressed harder against Naruto. The friction was maddening, the heat between them suffocating in the best possible way. He let out a shaky breath, barely able to hold back the sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape with every grind of their hips.

And then, in one moment, he broke. Naruto let out a sharp, strangled moan, muffled by Sasuke's lips, as the pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave, his entire body tensing as he came, the sensation overwhelming him completely. His hips jerked uncontrollably against Sasuke as he clung to him, his forehead dropping to rest against Sasuke's shoulder as he shuddered through his release.

Almost simultaneously, Sasuke's breath hitched, his body trembling as the same sensation overtook him. He pressed harder against Naruto, his fingers digging into Naruto's back as he let out a low, breathless moan, riding out the waves of pleasure that wracked his body. The intense feeling that washed over Sasuke left him gasping for breath, his legs feeling weak beneath him as he clung onto Naruto for support.

Neither of them dared move, their bodies still pressed tightly together as they rode out the last few tremors of their release. Their breathing was heavy and uneven, and the locker room fell into silence, broken only by the sound of their ragged breathing.

Naruto leaned against the wall, still catching his breath, his forehead pressed to Sasuke's shoulder as reality slowly began to sink in. His heart was pounding, and a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck as he realized what had just happened.

Still leaning against Naruto, Sasuke finally stirred, stepping back slightly to create a bit of space between them. He avoided Naruto's gaze at first, running a hand through his dark, messy hair.

The tension in the air between them was still there, but now it was filled with a sense of… awkwardness, neither one of them quite knowing what to say.

Naruto finally cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Uhm... that just... happened."

Sasuke looked up, his expression guarded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, uncertainty, maybe even curiosity. "Yeah... it did."

They just stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging between them. Naruto's mind raced, a thousand thoughts battling for his attention. He had no idea what this meant, what to say, or even how to act. All he knew was that something between them had changed drastically, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Look," Naruto started, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I didn't, uh, I didn't plan for... any of that. I don't know what the hell just happened."

Sasuke's gaze flicked to him, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Neither did I."

Another silence stretched out, though it wasn't as heavy as before. Something unspoken hung between them, something that went beyond what had just happened in the heat of the moment.

Sasuke let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "So... what now?"

Naruto shrugged, still unsure of what he was even feeling. "I... don't know, man. I guess we just... figure it out?"

Sasuke studied him momentarily as if trying to decide how serious Naruto was being. Then, with a small smirk that was more like the Sasuke Naruto was used to, he added, "We better not let anyone find out about this. Especially not your friends."

Naruto chuckled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, no kidding. They'd never let me live it down."

Naruto pushed off the wall, straightening up and offering Sasuke a small, genuine smile. "Guess we'll see where this goes."

Sasuke didn't respond immediately, but he nodded after a moment. "Yeah. We will."

Without another word, Sasuke turned and headed toward the door, the tension still lingering but no longer uncomfortable. As Naruto watched him leave, he couldn't help but wonder where things were headed from here, and if something like this could possibly happen again.

He hoped so.

☀️˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒