#IT WAS PROBABLY NOTHING BUT IT FELT LIKE THE WORLD: musings. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafes-slut · 3 months ago

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Playing Hard to Get

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, teasing, mild frustration, sexual tension

Summary:

Rafe comes home after a gym session, expecting to be greeted with affection, but his wife, the reader, plays hard to get, frustrating him. After a brief moment of irritation, he starts to walk away, but she chases after him. A playful exchange ensues, where Rafe teases her back, leading to an intimate moment that dissolves the tension between them

---.

The kitchen smelled like home—warm, rich, and filled with the comforting scent of the meal you had been working on. The soft hum of a simmering pot and the occasional clatter of utensils were the only sounds filling the quiet house, aside from the faint buzz of the AC. You had been alone all day, missing him, feeling restless with nothing to do but wait for him to come home.

And then you heard the front door open.

Your stomach fluttered, an involuntary reaction, just like it always was when he returned. The sound of heavy footsteps filled the space, his presence undeniable even before he appeared in the doorway.

When you turned, your breath caught.

Rafe stood there, fresh from the gym, his toned chest glistening faintly from the remnants of his workout. His grey shorts hung low on his hips, emphasizing his sculpted abs, and the backpack slung over his shoulder only added to the effortlessly confident look. His sunglasses were still on, obscuring his sharp blue eyes, but you knew he was looking right at you.

Without a word, he dropped his bag to the floor, crossing the distance between you in a few slow, deliberate steps. The warmth of his body pressed against your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips found your neck, soft and lazy, trailing slow kisses down to your shoulder.

“Missed me?” he murmured, his voice deep and teasing against your skin.

Your hands stilled on the countertop, your breath hitching slightly at the way he held you—possessive, familiar, like he knew exactly how much you had been craving him.

You swallowed, your grip tightening on the wooden spoon in your hand as you felt the warmth of Rafe’s lips against your skin. His touch was slow, deliberate, sending shivers down your spine.

“I don’t know,” you teased, trying to sound unaffected, even as your body instinctively leaned into him. “You were gone for a while.”

Rafe chuckled against your neck, his hands slipping lower, resting on your hips. “Had to get a good workout in,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t realize my wife would be at home pouting about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was right. You had missed him—too much, probably. The house felt too empty without him, and now that he was back, standing so close, smelling like sweat and faded cologne, you realized just how badly you had been waiting for him to walk through that door.

“You smell,” you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

Rafe smirked, his grip tightening just a little, his lips pressing one last lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder before he pulled back slightly. “Yeah? And you love it.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you turned back to the stove, stirring whatever was in the pot in front of you. But Rafe wasn’t done with you. His arms stayed wrapped around you as he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you cook like he had all the time in the world.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now. “What did my bored little housewife do all day?”

The way he said it made your stomach tighten—his tone lazy, teasing, like he knew exactly how much you had been waiting for him.

You let out a dramatic sigh, stirring the pot lazily. “Oh, you know… just spent the whole day sitting around, thinking about my husband, wondering if he was ever gonna come home and pay attention to me.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, his grip on your waist tightening. “That so?” he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. “Sounds like someone was feeling needy.”

Before you could fire back, he suddenly spun you around in his arms, making you gasp. Your hands landed on his bare chest, fingers instinctively splaying across his warm skin as you looked up at him. The damn sunglasses were still on, but you could feel the intensity of his stare beneath them.

“You should’ve told me, sweetheart,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “I would’ve cut my workout short.”

You scoffed, even as your heart pounded. “You? Cut your gym time? Never.”

Rafe smirked, his hands slipping down to the backs of your thighs. “You’re right,” he admitted easily, “but I would’ve made it up to you the second I got home.”

And then, without warning, he lifted you up effortlessly, making you yelp as he placed you on the cool marble countertop. Your legs instinctively parted, and Rafe stepped between them, his hands bracketing your hips as he pressed himself closer.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours. “Still bored?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, full of that cocky confidence that made your stomach flip.

You bit back a smirk, tilting your head slightly as you ran your fingers over his shoulders, tracing the muscles you knew he was so damn proud of. “Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think, even as your legs instinctively tightened around his waist. “I don’t know… I think I’m still a little bored.”

Rafe scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening. “Oh, really?” he murmured, his tone laced with challenge. “That’s funny, ‘cause I don’t think you were bored the second I walked in.”

You shrugged, keeping your face neutral, though your heart was hammering in your chest. “I mean… you look decent, I guess,” you said nonchalantly, dragging your fingers along the waistband of his shorts.

His jaw flexed, and even behind the sunglasses, you could feel the way his eyes darkened. You knew exactly what you were doing—poking at his ego, making him work for it.

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Alright,” he murmured, “so that’s how you wanna play it?”

Before you could respond, he reached up and pulled off his sunglasses, finally letting you see those piercing blue eyes. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering, as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your jawline.

“You can play hard to get all you want, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But we both know how this ends.”

His hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing just enough to make you suck in a breath. “So,” he whispered against your skin, “wanna keep pretending… or are you gonna admit that you missed me?”

You smirked, keeping your expression cool despite the way your body reacted to him. His hands on your thighs, his lips brushing your skin—it was enough to make your breath hitch, but you weren’t about to give in that easily.

“Missed you?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly. “I mean… sure, I noticed you were gone. But I wouldn’t say I missed you.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw ticking. His hands on your thighs flexed, like he was debating whether to keep pushing or let you keep up this little game. You saw the frustration flicker across his face—he had expected you to cave by now.

Instead of admitting defeat, you leaned back slightly, bracing your hands on the counter. “But, you know… if you really wanna make it up to me, I could maybe be convinced.”

That was it. That was the moment he decided he was over it.

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head as he pulled back completely. “Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna act like you don’t care? Fine.”

Without another word, he stepped back, grabbed his backpack off the floor, and turned on his heel, walking right out of the kitchen.

You blinked, caught off guard by how quickly he gave up. You had expected him to push back, to keep teasing you until you broke, but instead, he just… left?

As soon as Rafe turned his back and started walking away, you froze for a second, the silence in the kitchen hanging heavy between you two. He was leaving? Just like that? After everything?

You couldn’t let that happen.

You jumped off the counter with a speed that surprised you, immediately chasing after him. Your bare feet slapped against the floor as you hurried to catch up, your heart racing—not just from the sprint, but from the sudden rush of panic and frustration. You hadn't expected him to give up so easily, and now… you didn’t want him to walk out.

“Rafe, wait!” you called, your voice a mix of annoyance and something deeper. You didn’t know exactly what it was, but you couldn’t just let him go without saying something.

He didn’t turn around immediately, but you saw him pause by the living room, his shoulders tense. You could tell he was trying to keep his cool, but the muscles in his back were tight with frustration.

“Rafe,” you said again, a little softer this time, as you caught up to him.

He still didn’t look at you, and it only fueled the fire inside you. You reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him to face you.

“What’s your deal?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart pounded in your chest. “You think I was just gonna fall for it? You think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?”

Rafe’s gaze flicked to yours, finally meeting your eyes. His lips twisted into a frustrated smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, voice low. “I try to be nice. I try to give you some attention after a long day… and you just play games with me?”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “You can’t expect me to just drop everything every time you walk in the door, Rafe.”

The words sounded harsher than you meant them to, but before you could take them back, Rafe stepped even closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. His hand reached up to tug the strap of his backpack over his shoulder with a casualness that didn’t match the tension building between you.

“You’re right,” he said, voice low and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “I shouldn’t expect anything from you. But the next time I come home, you better show me some damn appreciation. Got it?”

Your breath hitched at the intensity of his words, his eyes still smoldering, and something about the raw, unfiltered look on his face made you pause.

“You don’t get to walk away,” you shot back, your voice quieter now, but still firm. “I was just playing, Rafe. And I’m not sorry for it.”

Rafe studied you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, almost like he was looking for something. You felt exposed under his gaze, but you didn’t back down.

Finally, he sighed, clearly still annoyed but not as defensive as before. “You’re lucky I like you.” He shook his head again, but there was a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth now. “You make me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, the tension easing slightly between you. “I think it’s the other way around.”

Rafe rolled his eyes but stepped closer again, this time brushing his lips lightly against your forehead in a rare, soft gesture. His hands found their way to your waist, and for a moment, everything felt still.

“So,” you said, after a beat of silence, “I guess you’re not actually mad anymore?”

He gave you a wry smile, his lips curling up in that way that made you want to melt right then and there. “I’m still annoyed, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

Your heart raced as his fingers brushed against your skin, and you leaned into him a little, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “You’re so difficult.”

“You love it,” he shot back, his hand resting against the small of your back as he pulled you closer.

“I think I do,” you whispered, before letting your lips brush his in a soft, teasing kiss.

Rafe’s hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had disappeared except for the two of you, tangled up in a mixture of frustration, desire, and something else—something that kept pulling you back to him, no matter how hard you tried to push him away.

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mintmatcha · 15 days ago

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cw: death

Everything in your house is the same as it ever was. All of your dishes are stacked in the sink, your mail is piled on the hall, the floors need a good polish: Sero kicks off his shoes and quietly observes it all, soaking in the familiarity.

Because the second he sees you, things will no longer be normal.

The usual was thrown out the window months ago, when you strolled up to his apartment and announced you were dying.

"Terminal," you had said. "Less than a year, probably."

Neither one of you had cried in that moment. Nothing had been tangible yet. He thinks, maybe, he had even laughed at the thought. The idea of his longest friendship ending so abruptly, so early felt impossible.

Today, as Sero walks into your living room, it's real.

From your indent on the couch, it takes a moment for you to even process he's entered the room. You full body jump, scrambling to grab the television remote.

"Oh-" you throw a hand over your heart. "You can't scare me like that."

Sero cackles as he leans against the wall. A rerun of your least favorite show is playing. Turns out, even when your time is limited, you still like hate watching things.

"Did you think I was that fox again?" Sero asks and you gasp indignantly.

"Oh my--" You toss your hands up in the air with an insulted scoff. "I swear to god that actually happened. Cross my heart!"

The animation returns to your face when you laugh. It makes Sero's heart ache to see that you haven't faded, even as your body goes.

"I told you. I literally left my front door open to take out the trash and I turn around-" Sero's heard this story at least a fozen times, but he nods along like it's new. "That fox was in my doorway! Just looking at me like-"

Your eyes widen and bulge. It's a familiar lyrics good for impression, Sero thinks. He can picture it's red eyes boring into his.

"It just watched me and I watched it watching me. Then it turned around and calmly walked away, like it was no big deal." The spike of energy in your voice is fading. You settle back into the couch with a placid look, watching him with a passive interest.

Sero strolls over and joins you on the couch. You move your legs to give him room, but he pulls them back over his lap.

"You're so full of shit," he says. "I've lived in this city my whole life and I've never seen a fox."

The smile on your face splits wider. The two of you sit with it for a long while, watching the subtitles on the television flip by. Sero keeps his hands on your ankles, squeezing them as if it's a shape he needs to remember.

What are the things he should be holding on to now? Should he be having grand conversation with you, something kind of final, impossible talk that's going to make the inevitable easier?

"When I die-" you say suddenly. "I'm coming back as a fox and I'm going to sneak into your house."

"Really?" Sero asks. He's no longer playful, just genuine. "You're gonna be a fox?"

You shrug with one shoulder, never looking away from the screen. It's getting close, he thinks. There's nothing he can truly pinpoint, but there's something about you that's slipping away.

"Yeah, why not?" you muse. "There are worse lives."

"Okay." He squeezes your ankles again. "I'll keep an eye out for you."

Sero considers saying that he loves you, or that he can't imagine the world without you, or that the grief he's already carrying feels so ridiculous because you're still here, still in reach but all of it feels unfair to say. Instead, he holds it in until the corners of his eyes burn and his breathing hiccups.

"Or maybe an oarfish," you say. "That'd be sick."

Sero palms away his tears. "You just wanna play Animal Crossing."

"Busted." You crack a smile. "Can you grab another carton of ice cream for me? The last one melted."

Yesterday's container is half full and completely melted, sitting on your coffee table, but Sero gets up anyway. He tosses you your switch, then strolls to the kitchen.

"You can't just eat garbage, you know," he calls back. "It'll kill you."

Your guffaw rings throughout the whole apartment. "I'll eat garbage all I want."

It's three weeks later when he passes your place again. A big, red sign is in the window declaring it's for sale. Your parents had placed your furniture on the curb and the neighbors had already claimed all of the pieces, including your misshapen couch. Sero knows there is no piece of you in any of those items, but it feels cathartic, like spreading your ashes across the street.

There's one trash bag on the curb, filled with things your family didn't want. He wonders if you threw out your vibrator before you died, or if it's in that black bag, fully charged, never to be used again. An animal is picking at the plastic, rustling at the plastic.

"Pst," Sero calls out to scare it away. "Scat-"

A head peeks up and he catches red eyes, wide and bulged, boring into his. A fox, with bits of garbage stuck to its muzzle. It regards him for a long while, watching him watching it.

"Hey," he says. "You're supposed to be at my apartment, not yours."

The animal doesn't blink.

"I'll-" A wave of sorrow hits all at once. Every tear he didn't shed, every joke he didn't tell or story he didn't share, every little moment that'll never happen. It hits like a train, right into his forehead. It's the calm kind of cry, the one without gasps or sobs, but an abnormal amount of tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'll keep the door open for you, okay?" he whispers. "Just visit soon."

The fox turns and lopes off into the dusk.

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oaksgrove · 4 months ago

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Lazy Sunday Mornings.

pairing: Retired!John Price x Reader

synopsis: Lazy mornings with John Price are slow, warm, and filled with quiet intimacy. Between shared cups of coffee, whispered conversations, and the weight of unspoken dreams, you realize that life with him—whether it’s tangled in blankets or imagining a future together—is exactly where you want to be.

warnings: Soft domestic fluff, suggestive themes, lots of tenderness, discussions of family and future plans.

word count: 1159

The morning crept in gently, sunlight spilling in warm golden streaks through the thin curtains across the room. Outside, the world stirred—birds chirping, a distant hum of a lawnmower from a few houses down—but inside, wrapped in the quiet cocoon of your shared bed, time felt like it had stopped.

John was a solid warmth at your back, his arms wrapped around you, one hand splayed over your stomach. His breaths came slow and steady, ruffling the strands of hair near your temple. You’d woken a few minutes ago but stayed still, savoring the weight of him, the way he fit around you like he belonged there.

A low murmur rumbled in your ear, gravelly with sleep.

“Good morning, love.”

His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you only hummed in response, snuggling further into his embrace.

John chuckled, the vibration sinking into your skin. He shifted, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your shoulder.

“Not awake yet?” he teased, his lips brushing along your skin.

You smiled, turning just enough to catch a glimpse of him—tousled hair, hooded blue eyes, the softened edges of his face from sleep. He looked so at ease, a side of him only you got to see.

“Morning,” you murmured, reaching up to brush your fingers against his jaw, feeling the roughness of his morning stubble.

John’s lips brushed the curve of your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin. “What time is it?”

“Does it matter?” you teased, tilting your head back to look at him fully.

His lips curved into a lazy smirk. “Not one bit.”

He exhaled softly, leaning into your touch. “You look too comfortable to move,” he noted, shifting just enough to tighten his hold. “Guess we’re stuck here.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. “I’m not complaining.”

John had already prepared for your reluctance to leave the bed.

A steaming mug of coffee waited on the nightstand, close enough that you could reach for it without leaving the warmth of the blankets. He’d gotten up at some point—without waking you—to make it, and the thought made your heart squeeze.

“You got up and came back without waking me?” you mused, taking a slow sip, savoring the heat.

John smirked, reaching for his own mug. “Didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep. Besides, I didn’t go far.”

You arched an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re the one who looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.”

His low chuckle was filled with amusement. “And whose fault is that?”

The smugness in his tone made your cheeks warm. You elbowed him playfully, and he caught your wrist with ease, pulling you flush against his chest.

“No plan for today?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

John hummed, setting his mug back down before trailing his fingers lazily up and down your arm. “No plan. Just this.”

The hours passed in slow, hazy moments, the kind of morning where nothing needed to be done, and there was nowhere to be but here.

You were tangled together beneath the duvet, legs intertwined, sharing soft laughter between murmured conversation. His hands were idle but tender, brushing through your hair, tracing absent patterns along your skin.

“What do you think we’d be doing now if I were still in the service?” John mused, his voice contemplative.

“Not this,” you said with a laugh, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’d probably be halfway around the world, yelling orders at someone.”

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “And wishing I were here instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, playful. “Oh? You’d miss this?”

John set his mug down, leaning closer. “I’d miss you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His hand found your hip beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing a lazy pattern over your skin.

The simple touch sent a warmth curling through you, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve gotten soft, Captain.”

“Retired Captain,” he corrected, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours. His eyes held yours, steady and unflinching. “And soft? Hardly. I’m just a man who knows what he wants now.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you felt your breath hitch. John’s gaze flicked over your face, as if memorizing every detail.

And then, between sips of coffee and lazy kisses pressed to your temple, John shifted—his hand resting on your hip, thumb rubbing slow circles.

You smiled, letting the peacefulness settle over you. “Think we could do this forever?”

John’s hand stilled, and he tilted his head to look at you. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, gesturing around the room. “Quiet mornings, no alarms, no chaos. Just us.”

His expression softened, and he set his mug down on the nightstand before leaning closer. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he admitted. “Though I can’t promise quietness forever.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You ever thought about it?” he asked suddenly.

“Think about what?”

John hesitated, his fingers stilling. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than before.

“A family.”

You froze, heart stuttering. “You mean... with me?”

His grip on you tightened slightly, just enough for you to feel the warmth behind it. “Course with you. Who else could put up with me?”

You let out a breathless laugh, but your heart ached in the best way.

John wasn’t the type to say things lightly. If he was bringing it up now, it meant he’d been thinking about it for a long time.

You let your fingers slide up his chest, resting over his heart. “What would it look like?”

He exhaled, a small, lopsided smile curling at his lips. “Messy. Loud. A house full of love and a backyard full of trouble.” His voice turned softer, more certain. “You’d be an incredible mum, you know.”

You swallowed past the warmth in your throat, turning so you could face him fully. His eyes—so full of something deep and unshaken—held yours.

“And you’d be a good dad,” you whispered, brushing your knuckles along his jaw. “The kind that sticks around. The kind that’s there for every bedtime story and scraped knee.”

His expression softened even more, something unspoken passing between you.

John tilted his head forward, his nose brushing yours before he kissed you—slow and lingering, filled with a quiet promise.

“We’ve got time,” he murmured when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. “But I wouldn’t mind starting today.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze of warmth.

You didn’t leave the bed until well past noon, and even then, only to migrate to the couch. John wrapped you up in his arms, lazily tracing patterns along your skin as the two of you exchanged slow, lingering kisses between your second round of coffee.

There was no urgency, no rush—just him, just you.

It was simple, quiet, and perfect.

And maybe, just maybe, the start of something bigger.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash

#call of duty fanfic #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod 141 #captain price #john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #cod john price #captain john price #task force 141

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cherry-jamm · 3 months ago

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I lose my mind when it comes to you

・❥・ Where Mark tries to keep you awake post head trauma

・❥・word count: 1.5k

・❥・warnings: so much fluff, not beta read

・❥・I might make a part 2 for this if it gets some love, who knows?

The world swayed slightly even as you stood still. On top of your steadily growing nausea a headache pounded relentlessly at your head. Putting your pride away, you had gotten pretty banged up in the final battle of your mission. You tried to steady your breathing as you looked up towards the sky to try and spot your teammate.

Invincible slowly lowered himself to the ground beside you with a smile you easily returned. “You did great!” He congratulated, gripping onto your shoulder and shaking it. A new wave of nausea overtook you at the sudden movement. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good.” You lied. You weren’t sure exactly why you lied, but for some reason you couldn’t admit to your charming and incredibly handsome teammate that you actually weren’t alright and that you were really a few minutes away from collapsing. So you plastered on a smile and gave him a thumbs up. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push you much further. “Alright, now that we got that finished up, let’s head back.”

You felt the ground hit your cheek before you even realized you were falling. You shut your eyes in a mixture of embarrassment and pain. “Jeez! You sure you’re alright?” Mark’s concerned face filled your hazy vision as he crouched down by your side. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You silently shook your head, feeling small pieces of debris cut into your cheek. Mark chuckled. “Yeah, you look kinda banged up.”

“Thanks.” You mumble sarcastically. At that Mark only laughs more before fumbling to flip you onto your back.

“No like,” He looks down at you. You couldn’t see his face beneath his mask but you could feel him scanning you. “I think you might be concussed or something.” He bites his lip as he drags his thumb gently over your forehead and as he pulls it back the pad of it is covered in sticky red blood. You groan.

“Am I gonna live, doc?” You tilt your head. Suddenly the sun above him seems much too bright and you squeeze your eyes shut to lessen the splitting headache that pulses behind your eyes.

“Probably not.” He responds playfully. There’s a long pause as you try to steady your breathing, your eyes still shut. You fight the urge to smack him as Mark pokes your cheek. “I’m pretty sure you have to stay awake after you get a concussion.” He muses. You look at him, mustering up as much distaste as you can to glare at him. “I mean, I saw it in a movie?” He stumbles under your hard gaze.

“Mark.” You whine. Suddenly all the attraction you felt towards him was replaced with irritation. You throw your head back as best you can as you lay on the concrete.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” He huffs frustratedly. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get like permanent brain damage or something.” You remain thoroughly unimpressed by the fact. Your eyelids ached to shut just for a moment. It was a losing battle against your own body. The brief moments your eyes closed to blink felt like pure bliss and it was only a matter of time before you were falling asleep once again.

“Hey, hey!” Mark picks your head up. Your eyes crack open to him frowning down at you like a disappointed mother. “What’s the square root of nine?”

“What?”

“The square root of nine?” He asks again. His hands tuck under your arms to lift you off the ground. After a short while of trying to get your limp legs to stand his hand wrapped around your waist and he took a step forward.

“Three?” Your head lolled to the side to rest against his shoulder. He tightened his hold on you.

“Good. What’s six times seven?”

“I don’t know, leave me alone.” You purposely shift more of your weight onto him to irritate him.

“I’m trying to keep you awake.” He looks down at you resting your aching head on him. “You won’t be sick if I fly you back right?” You shake your head (slowly to avoid another bout of sickness). “Good.” He tightens his grip on you. But he doesn’t take off and instead an awkward silence grows. “Could you, uh… do you mind if I?” His other hand hovered over your body awkwardly.

“Just grab me.” You roll your eyes. Having to stay awake when you would much rather sleep your way back to base was getting on your nerves. You barely even registered that you had essentially volunteered yourself to be manhandled by Mark. He nodded and quickly picked you up to an awkward piggy back ride.

“If you wrap your legs around me this is a lot easier.” He frowned.

“At least buy me dinner first.” You tease, but oblige. He held onto your thighs and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly but quickly pushed it down. He takes off with a start and as you feel the stability of the ground getting further away your stomach twists. “How do you do this all the time?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, shielding your face both from the wind and the ability to look down.

“It’s just like walking, I guess.” You feel his shoulders tense as he shrugs.

“Walking.” You repeat incredulously. “When the ground is that far beneath you?” You have to raise your voice to be heard over the growing noise of wind. Mark just laughs. Your legs unconsciously loosen around his waist to which Mark grips them tighter.

“I mean, you have it easy right now. Just hold on tight and don’t look down.”

“And that’s so easy.” Actually it was becoming much easier to not look down. It was becoming easier to not look at anything as you felt drowsiness overtake you. You feel the urge to dig your heels into his stomach but think better of it. Probably not the best decision to irritate the man keeping you from falling out of the sky.

There were a few minutes of silence and you had to dedicate all your willpower to not falling asleep against his shoulder. “We’re almost there.” Mark announced. “You only gotta hang on for a little longer.” Despite the good news you were still impatiently waiting to get out of the sky and fall asleep without Mark’s interruption.

“You know what they say about home stretches.” You sigh. Your eyelids slowly became heavier to the point you could barely keep them open anymore. Your body went almost completely limp as your vision grew heavy.

“What do they say?” Mark asked. However before you could answer, sleep forcefully overtook you as your head slumped against his back. Mark let out a small gasp, pausing in the air. “No, no, no.” He muttered. He held one of your thighs even tighter (if that was even possible) while the other one went up to poke your cheek again. When you didn’t wake up immediately Mark groaned and switched to pinching your cheek, then your thigh until your eyes opened. Once you realized that he was no longer holding both of your legs it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you as you suddenly scrambled to hold onto him as tight as possible.

“Mark!” You yell frustratedly. He returned his hold on your legs and began moving in the air once again, albeit slower this time.

“Thank god you woke up gracefully, because I totally would have dropped you.” He smirks. You gripped onto him tight enough that it started to hurt.

“Mark!” You yell again, more panic in your voice. “I’m never flying with you again, this is the worst!”

“Only because you’re concussed.” His voice raised in pitch as he tried to defend his honor. “You know, you shouldn’t anger the guy who’s holding you right now.” He pouts.

“My apologies, your majesty.” You concede. You relax in his hold once again and for a second you feel the muscles in his back tense to sense if you had fallen back asleep. “‘M awake.” You mumble into his suit. You feel him nod.

It wasn’t much longer until you were landing. Somehow the landing was worse than taking off. Mark helps you stand on your own two feet again, his hands wrapping around your forearms to ensure you wouldn’t fall on your face again. All the while you were fighting the urge to puke as your stomach had dropped to your feet and had yet to return to its original position. You had to close your eyes to steady yourself again and get your shit together. You took a deep steadying breath.

“Thank you, Mark.” You said earnestly. Ignoring the way black crept into the edges of your vision, he looked good like this. His hair was windswept and messy and his hands still nervously held onto you. You couldn’t help the way you naturally blushed.

“Yeah, I mean you did most of the work in that fight back there, it's only fair.” He trailed off as you stepped closer to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks.” You repeated.

“Anytime.” He smiled a crimson blush rising on his cheeks. That was the last thing you saw before your eyes shut and you slumped against him once again. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep however was him groaning,

“Seriously?!”

#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #Cherry-jamm

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surielstea · 7 months ago

Text

Shun the Light

Requested by @dee-writes-smut

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helion has been attempting to get reader into his bed for years now, what happens when she finally gives in?

A. Note: I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever posted so apologies for the wild word count, but also most of this is smut so you’re very welcome ;)

9.6k words.

Sitting in a large, worn leather chair positioned in a secluded corner of the library, I was half-hidden by towering shelves of books. The room was steeped in quiet, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the shelves under their heavy load or the soft turning of a page. The smell of old parchment mingled with the lingering scent of rich mahogany and leather—a sanctuary of knowledge and peace. And yet, even here, there was no escaping the High Lord.

"You've been avoiding me." Helion's voice cut through the tranquil silence with a casual grace, as he rounded one of the shelves that had been sheltering me. His amber eyes gleamed mischievously as he approached, a book tucked under his muscular arm. I highly doubted it was for actual reading.

"And you've been following me," I replied dryly, eyes fixed on my book. The words on the page blurred slightly, my pulse quickening from the mere presence of him.

"This is my personal library," he countered smoothly, leaning against the shelf, his broad frame casting a shadow over me. His proximity was a cage, yet the alcove still felt oddly cozy. "I'd say you're the one hoping to run into me." He gestured at the books surrounding us, a small portion of his vast collection, his smile all too knowing. "Besides, I happen to like reading."

The soft, golden light from a nearby lamp warmed the deep brown of his skin, making him look almost otherworldly as if carved from the light itself. I forced myself to stay calm, sinking deeper into the chair as I replied, "What book is that, then?" My chin jerked toward the novel he held so proudly, though I leaned back, attempting to appear indifferent.

With one of his signature smirks, Helion pulled the book from under his arm, holding it out like a grand reveal. "The Art of Seduction," he mused, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Subtle," I muttered, tossing him a glare before trying to lose myself in my own book again. The pages held nothing for me, not while Helion loomed over me with that look in his eyes. That ever-present challenge.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't leave. "Thought I could brush up on my skills, seeing as you seem so indifferent to my irresistible charm," he chimed, far too pleased with himself as he slid into the chair directly in front of mine, uninvited.

I narrowed my eyes, fighting back the heat rising in my cheeks. "Really? Out of every seat in this library, you choose that one?"

He shrugged, his casual air too relaxed for someone invading my space. "Well, you've stolen my usual one, so I must make do with lesser options." His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with amusement as he cracked open the book he clearly had no intention of reading, propping his feet up on the low table between us.

I stared, incredulous. "They're the same chair."

Helion gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes flashing with humor. "True, but that one smells like me."

I froze for a moment, my fingers going still against the soft leather of the armrest. The faint, intoxicating scent of sandalwood and bergamot swirled around me, and I cursed inwardly. It was familiar, inescapable, and frustratingly warm, like the High Lord himself. My gaze flicked up to his, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely absorbed in his book, a small line forming between his brows as if the words were the most fascinating thing in the world.

I had to stifle a laugh at the sight. I wasn't sure he'd ever actually read a single page of his vast collection, yet there he was, looking like a scholar lost in study.

We fell into a comfortable silence—Helion reading, or pretending to read, and me half-heartedly flipping through my book, both of us mirroring each other, our feet propped up on the table in an unspoken truce. The moment felt oddly peaceful, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

But, of course, it didn't last.

Only a few moments later, Helion shut his book with a soft thud, and I felt his foot nudge mine from across the table. I resisted the urge to respond, cursing his long limbs and moving my legs out of his reach, but he persisted—sending a glare of sunlight directly into my line of sight, making it nearly impossible to read.

"Would you stop that?" I snapped, lowering my book and glaring at him from beneath my brows. He only grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.

"What book is that?" he asked as if the answer mattered.

I sighed. "Some random one I found on the shelves." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth, either.

"Sunshine," he drawled, his voice like velvet as he leaned forward slightly, "I've read every book in this library. That one, I'm not familiar with."

I ignored him, focusing back on my book, though I wasn't reading a single word. The heat from his gaze felt palpable, like sunlight warming my skin.

"What is it?" he pressed again, his voice dripping with faux curiosity. His fingers twitched, and I braced myself as yet another glare of sunlight angled right into my eyes.

"I'm not telling," I muttered, holding up my forearm to shield my face from the assault.

Helion chuckled softly. "I'm commanding you to tell me, as High Lord," he said, the playful light still dancing at his fingertips.

"Why do you care so much?" I grumbled, slamming my book shut with an exaggerated huff.

He leaned back, eyes never leaving mine. "I wish to know what could possibly be more interesting than me." His smirk widened as if the very thought was inconceivable.

I said nothing, my silence was the only answer I was willing to give.

"How about a bet?" he suggested, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable. "If I can make you smile in the next five minutes, you have to tell me what you're reading."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And if you lose?"

Helion's smirk softened into something more sincere. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."

A tempting offer. I considered it for a moment, imagining a night of uninterrupted reading, free from his constant prattling.

"Deal. Five minutes," I said, returning to my book.

For a while, Helion was silent, the ticking clock in my mind counting down the seconds. But knowing him, he probably believed he didn't need the full-time—that one well-timed sentence would be enough.

"You look adorable with your nose stuffed in a book," he murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was softer now, more intimate, like a confession shared in the quiet of a night.

I rolled my eyes. "That's usually what people do in a library."

Helion's smile widened. "And yet, I find myself much more interested in studying you."

"Why don't you leave me alone and go read your book? Maybe you'll learn how to actually charm me," I shot back, trying to ignore the way his words made my pulse race.

"I could recite poetry and still fall short," he sighed dramatically as if I truly had him beat.

Despite myself, a smile tugged at my lips at the absurdity of it all.

"There it is," he marveled, his voice a soft victory.

My fleeting smile turned into a scowl. "That doesn't count. I was smiling at the thought of you leaving me alone."

Helion laughed. "A smile is a smile." He extended his hand, eyes glinting. "So, show me the book."

I look down to the page I was on—to the very erotic scene playing out that I hadn't even realized was happening, too busy pretending to read when he was talking to me to even realize.

"I—no," I murmur, slamming my book shut.

"We had a deal, so unless you want to have permanent bargain tattoos with me, I suggest you hand it over." He quipped and I frowned at the idea of something so permanent on my body being associated with him.

"Fine," I grumble, holding the book out to him with a string of grumbled curses. He takes the book, his fingers brushing over mine—the touch shooting rays of warmth up my arm. I shake it off and settle back into my chair which smelt so strongly of him.

Helion crosses his ankle over his knee, reclining back in his chair with the casual confidence that seems permanently etched into his being. His long, golden fingers lazily flip over my book, turning it to read the back. I watch as his brow arches and the corner of his mouth tugs upward.

"Reading about me, are we?" His voice breaks the silence, low and teasing, pulling my attention from my own thoughts. His gaze flickers up to mine, gleaming with amusement.

My head tilts in confusion, a frown forming. "It's not about you. How self-centered can you possibly get?" I scoff, reaching for the book with a frustrated hand, but he pulls it just out of reach with an effortless motion.

"A king falling for his emissary?" he continues, ignoring my protest. His fingers tap against the page in emphasis. "Sounds familiar, no?"

His eyes, molten gold in the dim library light, lock with mine, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. My pulse quickens, not from the question itself, but from the look on his face—the playful way he studies me like I'm a puzzle to be solved.

"My book, Helion," I demand, extending my arm towards him, though it feels like a futile gesture. He watches me closely, a cat toying with its prey.

"In a moment." He waves off my request with a casual flick of his hand, settling deeper into the oversized chair that barely manages to hold his broad frame. He opens the book, his eyes landing right on the page marked by my ribbon. My heart stutters in my chest. No, no, no. He's going to read that part. I freeze, eyes wide as I watch his expression for any sign of disgust or, worse, judgment.

But there's nothing. His lips curl into a slow smile, amusement dancing in his gaze. "This is far better than I could have ever imagined," he purrs, a wicked light entering his eyes as he lets the book fall closed and tosses it onto the table between us, entirely unbothered.

"I'm doing a book club with the Valkyries. It wasn't my first choice," I mumble quickly, snatching the book back from the table. My fingers are trembling slightly, and I hope he doesn't notice. The truth is, I was mortified.

Helion, of course, doesn't seem fazed by my embarrassment. "No need to defend yourself. Although," he leans back with a leisurely stretch, his muscles rippling beneath his tunic, "I have an entire shelf of erotica in the back that's much better written. And doesn't use words like 'velvet-wrapped steel.'"

Heat floods my cheeks, a fierce blush creeping up my neck. "Shouldn't you be doing High Lord stuff?" I grumble, trying to deflect, my mortification reaching new heights. "Not pestering me?"

"My court is asleep." He shrugs as if the affairs of his court are a mere inconvenience. "Nothing happens in the Day Court after the sun goes down." He huffs like it's a travesty, though there's a gleam in his eye suggesting he prefers it that way. "Well, nothing for the public eye anyway," he adds with a sultry grin, his eyes darkening, his voice dripping with innuendo.

I roll my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "You still have land to rule. People to govern. They don't disappear just because they're asleep." I remind him, though I can't help but let my gaze flicker to the strong line of his jaw, the way his dimples deepen when he smiles.

"Delegation, my dear," he responds, his tone infuriatingly smug. "The key to any successful leader."

"If only you could delegate your need for constant attention," I shoot back, offering a sweet smile that hides my annoyance.

His shoulders slump in an exaggerated show of disappointment, his hand dramatically pressed to his chest. "Well, that just wouldn't work. There's only one person I want attention from."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the meaning unmistakable. My heart skips a beat, my pulse fluttering in my throat as I force myself to remain calm. I can feel his gaze roaming over me like he's waiting for me to react. My eyes flick over his form, all lean muscle and rich, sun-kissed skin that practically glows in the warm library light. Everything about him radiates confidence—dangerous, seductive confidence.

"And I'm sure she's flattered," I say dryly, snapping my gaze away from his broad chest. "Too bad she's not here to distract you." I shift in my seat, trying to appear unbothered by the way his eyes are lingering on me, though I feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Helion tilts his head, watching me with that same predatory amusement, as though he's enjoying a game only he knows the rules to. His forearms rest on his spread thighs, and gods, those thighs. I can't help but glance, at his muscles thick and defined. His deep chuckle pulls my attention back to his face.

"Oh, she's here," he muses, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "She just needs to stop pretending I'm not the most interesting thing in this library."

I open my mouth to respond, to shoot back some biting retort, but I'm momentarily speechless, my heart beating a little too fast. Instead, I huff and bury my nose in the book, determined to ignore him. It's unprofessional. He's the High Lord. And I'm his emissary. Even entertaining the idea of his flirting is toeing a dangerous line. Besides, I know Helion's reputation. I'm not interested in being just another conquest, no matter how much he seems to enjoy teasing me.

But gods, he makes it difficult.

"Stop glaring at that book." His voice breaks into my thoughts again, his tone laced with amusement. "Either you're about to throw it into a fire, or you're thinking about something else entirely."

I glance up at him, eyes narrowing. "I'm thinking about how much quieter it would be in here without you."

"This is a library, you know?" I add, flipping a page in a show of indifference.

"Yes, but this library is only open to the public during the daytime. Except for those permitted access." He reclines even further, his fingers interlacing behind his head as he watches me, that maddening grin still plastered on his face.

"And if someone with clearance is in here with you, disrupting their quiet?" I tilt my head at him, matching his smug expression.

He mirrors the movement. "Everyone with clearance is already here. Not even the librarians can come in after hours."

I blink, my mind catching up with his words. And then it hits me. "I'm the only one with permission, aren't I?" My voice comes out soft, the realization settling in.

"Took you long enough," he grins, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"And how many women did this trick work on?" I grumble, my suspicion growing, even as my pulse quickens under his gaze.

"Just you," he says, and for once, the cocky smile falters into something more sincere.

I snort in disbelief. "It hasn't worked yet," I retort, though my voice sounds weaker than I'd like.

"Yet?" He arches a brow, his gaze flickering over me, daring me to challenge him.

My lips press into a thin line, and I bury myself back in my book, hiding behind the pages. "Go away, Helion." My voice comes out more of a plea than an order, and I curse myself for how breathless it sounds.

"I don't want you to miss me." His tone is snarky, yet something told me he genuinely believed what he was saying. I force myself not to look at him, to not fall for whatever game he's playing.

"Nonsense," I murmur, my cheeks burning. "I'd be too busy enjoying the peace."

Helion sighs dramatically, though there's a glimmer of laughter in his voice. "I'm not sure you're capable of quiet when I'm around. You always have something to say."

He's right, of course, and that's what infuriates me the most. No matter how much I want to ignore him, I can't. There's something about him that pulls the words right out of me.

"It's called defending myself from your constant attempts at flirting," I snap, though I don't dare look up, knowing he's probably biting back another smile.

"And here I was thinking we were bonding." His voice drops, laced with a dark, rich amusement. I glance up just in time to see him run a hand down his thigh, slow and deliberate, as though daring me to watch.

"This is what you call bonding?" I shift uncomfortably in my seat, the tension in the air almost unbearable. "I call it you trying—and failing—to charm me."

"Oh please," he laughs softly, his smile widening. "You've been charmed by me since the day we met. Don't think I haven't noticed the looks you've been sneaking all night."

His words land like a punch to the gut, and I flush, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. I can't tell if I'm mortified because he caught me or because I was staring at all.

"You think too highly of yourself," I mutter, sinking deeper into the chair as if it could swallow me whole. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered I am.

Helion only leans closer, his voice softening, turning almost serious. "You're the only one who thinks too lowly of me."

The sudden shift in his tone catches me off guard, and for the first time tonight, I meet his gaze fully. There's no teasing, no playful glint. Just him, watching me with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs.

I truly tried to focus on what I was reading, but his lingering gaze on me was going to drive me wild. Somehow that stare spoke louder than any words he could've said. He was offering me the silence I wanted, while simultaneously pushing me to insanity. Surely I couldn't get mad at him for simply observing? Yet here I was, nearly fuming at the way he tracked each of my movements.

Eventually, I grow sick of his ogling, so I snap my book closed and turn to him with narrowed eyes. Stop looking at me like that," I order, pushing myself up from the chair that had all but swallowed me. It's identical to the one Helion has turned into his makeshift throne, yet somehow, he manages to own his space with ease.

"Like what?" He rises with me, and I have to crane my neck just to maintain eye contact. Even that, the way I have to look up at him, feels like some small concession.

I stare at him, his features softened by the glow of the candlelight. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen, and his golden eyes hold no trace of the lust or amusement I've come to expect from him. Instead, they're filled with something even more dangerous—reverence. He looks at me like I'm more than just a passing amusement, more than just a fleeting fancy. Like I'm something precious.

"Like I'm more than just a game to you," I shake my head, tearing my gaze away. The weight of his stare is too much. I toss the book in my hands onto the coffee table with more force than necessary and stride past him, desperate to escape the suffocating tension of our little alcove. I don't trust myself to stay there, not with him looking at me like that.

"You think this is a game?" His voice follows me as I make my way through the dim, quiet library. It's empty, save for the two of us, but somehow, his presence alone fills every corner.

"Isn't it?" I shoot back, unwilling to turn and face him. The memory of his gaze burns too fresh in my mind. "Your reputation for women precedes you, Helion." The words slip out harsher than I intended. It's a low blow, bringing up his past like this, but I need him to understand why I can't—why I shouldn't.

I expect him to brush it off, but instead, he's beside me in a flash, walking in step as though he belongs at my side. "You think I would chase after a female for three years just for sex?" His voice is surprisingly calm, but there's a thread of frustration woven into it. "I've been rejected before, and I always respect it."

I stop in my tracks, staring up at him with creased brows. "Then what makes me so different?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It's a question I've been avoiding for months, maybe longer. Because deep down, I'm afraid of the answer. I'm afraid of what it might mean—for both of us.

Helion doesn't hesitate. "Because you feel it too." He steps closer, his movements slow, deliberate. The air between us crackles with unspoken tension, and yet I don't move. "This thing between us, you delight in it just as much as I do."

He takes another step forward, closing the distance, and my back hits the bookshelf behind me. Trapped, my breath hitches, but I refuse to show any sign of retreat.

"I'm not going to be another girl you charm for a night and forget by morning," I whisper, my voice barely holding steady. It's a quiet confession, more to myself than to him.

Helion's hand comes up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek with an unbearable tenderness. "I wouldn't forget you," he murmurs, shaking his head as if the very idea is absurd.

The proximity is overwhelming now. His warmth radiates off him, pulling me in, and my resolve—what little remains—begins to crumble. My body betrays me, my hands itching to touch him, to feel the strength in the muscles I've tried not to think about for so long.

"Helion,” I murmur, his name a warning, or maybe a plea. I don't even know anymore.

His gaze drops to my lips, his thumb never stopping its gentle, maddening caress. "Tell me, what keeps you from me?" he asks softly, his breath mingling with mine.

My throat tightens, and I remind myself of all the reasons this is a terrible idea. "I would hate myself if I became another one of your conquests." The words come out softer than I intend, laced with the fear I've been trying so hard to suppress.

But Helion doesn't back away. He doesn't laugh or brush it off. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice low and rough. "You're not. And even if you were—with the amount of time I've had to think about you, it'd take months to cross everything I want to do to you off the list." His lips ghost over mine, the barest hint of a touch that sets my skin ablaze.

"Helion," I repeat, the name a broken caution.

"Tell me to stop, I will." He promises, his voice raw with need. He inches closer, only a hairsbreadth away. "Tell me." He whispers, lips ghosting over mine.

I didn't have it in myself to tell him to stop, to even push him away. I wanted this, needed this. I surged upwards and closed the distance between us.

For three years he had been taunting me, teasing me with pretty words and suggestive smiles, and now I was finally giving him what he wanted—and what I have secretly been wanting far longer than he suspects, and it was everything I could've hoped for.

My back pressed harder into the shelf behind me as his chest met mine, while his hands, warm and firm wrapped around my hips, drawing me closer until there was no space between us. My body betrayed my mind, my thoughts warning me to stop, to end this before it was too late, but my hands were running down his muscles chest I've been craving to feel for years, my fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic and pulling him into me, deepening our kiss.

Every touch sent sparks skittering across my skin, and for a moment I allowed myself to drown in him, in the heat of him, his scent, the way he kissed me like he might never get the chance again.

His hands traveled from my hips, beneath my shirt to grip my waist—and the feel of his calloused hands on my bare skin was enough to send me reeling. The kiss grew more frantic, more desperate. His skilled tongue explored every possible inch of my mouth, and I allowed it, reveling in the way he so eagerly tasted me.

When I finally pulled away, breaking our kiss, our breaths coming in ragged gasps I stared up into his dilated pupils, the playful spark I was used to seeing there replaced by something deeper, something that sent both a jolt of fear and excitement through me. He was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the room—hel, like I was the only thing that mattered.

He leans closer, placing an all-too-gentle kiss on the expanse just below my ear. "Helion," I echoed, my fists still clenching his shirt.

"Yeah?" He uttered, his breath hot against my skin as he slowly trailed his lips down my jaw.

"We shouldn't, we can't," I sigh breathlessly, my hand weaving into his hair, tilting my head, allowing him to deepen his kiss.

"Who said?" He murmurs into my skin.

"It isn't professional," I say between breaths, my pulse rapidly fluttering, his tongue flicking over it playfully.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes and the loss of his contact made something inside me ache.

"I—no, gods no," I profess, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Then I don't care if it's professional, let me give you what you need," He whispered, his lips brushing mine. "Alright?"

I don't reply, and instead crash his lips onto mine once more, the rest of my defenses crumbling at the action. The kiss was hungrier this time, more demanding. I gave in fully as his tongue found its way into my mouth yet again, my chest arching into his as his hands slipped down to cup the back of my thighs, tapping me twice as a silent command to jump. I did exactly as he wished, wrapping my legs around his torso as he supported me, his touch traveled higher to cradle me by the curve of my ass. He smiled into the kiss, even in the heat of the moment his cocky grin manages to make an appearance.

He pushes off the shelf, blindly guiding us through the shelves and to the center of the empty library, where tables fill the area. He placed me down on the edge of the center table, his hands leaving my backside in favor of exploring new, untouched areas. Heat races through my veins as his hands trailed to the hem of my skirt, slipping beneath it without hesitation, his thumb grazing against the seam of my panties.

"Wait," I pant against his lips and his hand freezes. "Not here," I murmured, pecking his lips softly.

"It's just us in here, remember?" He reassured me when I pulled away, kissing my forehead. "Just us." His lips brush against my skin as he repeats the words and I can feel my resolve slipping. There was no more room for doubt, no more room for fear. All that existed was an overwhelming need to have him, to feel him in every way possible, to lose myself entirely in him until I didn't know where he ended and where I began.

"Just us," I echo, nodding slowly.

"We can stop," He said, despite how clearly he wanted this and was desperate for this.

"No, Helion don't stop," I connect our lips once more, allowing my legs to fall open farther, inviting him.

He forced himself to pull away, to restrain himself from me for just a moment longer. "You're okay with this, then?" He rasped, eyes pure gold.

"Yes," I answered. "Gods, yes." I pulled him into me, his hips meeting mine. His grin turned almost wolfish, primal as he tore through my skirt like it was nothing, discarding the fabric. He pulled me to the very edge of the table, his hands rubbing higher up my thighs, tracing the seam of my panties. I gasped as he pressed two fingers onto my clothed folds, just the right amount of pressure, not enough to get any real gratification from—but gods it still felt good. He smirks against my lips as he feels the damp spot forming on the cloth and I flush in embarrassment.

"I haven't even touched you," He noted aloud, deepening my blush. "Tell me, baby, were you this wet when I was simply talking to you?" He utters between kisses and I fight the urge to sneer at him.

"Do you ever shut up?" I ask, my question genuine. He responds with a searing kiss, which did in fact quiet him.

He couldn't control himself any longer, not with my hands roaming his back, my lips on his. He tore through my undergarments in a similar fashion to my skirt, tossing the wet fabric somewhere unimportant to me. He pulled back from our kiss, and I tugged at his bottom lip to stop him from leaving but he ignored my silent complaint, only to peer down at the apex of my thighs.

He grunted at the sight, his forehead meeting mine as he swiped two fingers through my embarrassingly wet core, his fingers coming back dripping. I throbbed for more, letting out a quiet moan as his thumb came down onto my clit, my head tilted back in ecstasy as he began circling it, his skillful touch setting my skin on fire as his middle finger traced my dripping entrance. I bucked slightly, leaning on my hands behind me as I lifted my hips for more friction.

He chuckled breathlessly, the sound humiliating, while simultaneously making me crave him so much more.

He didn't make me wait long before his own restraint snapped, letting go of that leash he had been gripping so tightly and pushing two of his fingers inside of me.

I moaned at the stretch, louder this time, relishing in the way his calloused fingers scraped against my walls, fitting me around him so perfectly.

He grunted at the sound of my moans, his pace unrelenting as his fingers thrust into me repeatedly, deep and slow. The pressure building inside me had my legs trembling as I spread them wider for him, silently begging for more.

"That's it," he rasped into my open mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. "Doing so well for me." His words were like kindling to the fire already raging in my core, my entire body aching for release. I could barely find the breath to respond, only able to whimper his name.

I bit my lip as he curled his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. My eyes squeezed shut, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as I tried to hold on, trying not to fall apart too soon, but he didn't seem to like that idea.

His other hand moved up my body, pulling the fabric of my shirt open to expose my breasts. He skillfully unclasped my bra, disposing of it just as he did with the rest of my clothes, leaving me entirely bare. He wasted no time in leaning down and capturing one of my peaked nipples between his teeth. The added sensation had my whole body jerking forward, my fingers tangling in his hair as I gasped.

"Yeah? You like that?" he muttered against my skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down my spine. I nodded frantically, unable to form words, as his fingers pumped into me with precision, his thumb pressing down on my clit, moving in tight circles that had me trembling on the edge of oblivion.

I was so close, so damn close, but I didn't want it to end just yet. I tugged on his hair, trying to pull him away from my breast, but he didn't budge. If anything, he seemed encouraged by the way my body was reacting to him, his fingers moving faster, his tongue flicking over my nipple with maddening strokes.

"Gods," I moaned, my head tilting back towards the vaulted ceiling, towards the sky and everything beyond, praying for relief, for that sweet, euphoric high. "Helion—m'close," I confess through a whimper, feeling my body reach its ascent.

"You going to beg for it?" He purred, pulling away from my breast, peering up at me.

"What?" I utter, too lost in my pleasure to even wrap my head around the thought.

"Beg for it." He repeats. "Beg for me to let you come." He reiterates, his voice low, sultry. My arousal increases, I must've been dripping into his hand.

"I'm not—fuck," I hiss as he curves his fingers into that sensitive spot, but not enough pressure to push me over the edge, he was toying with me. "Not g'na beg," I murmur, my body betraying me by trembling under his touch.

"No? Still not ready to admit how needy you are for me?" He tutted, seeming almost disappointed. The tone was degrading in itself, enough to send me reeling—but then his fingers were pulling out of me and he had no intention of thrusting them back in.

I gasped, my resolve shattering as I bucked my hips up desperately. "No—no please," I give in, my body aching for him to fill me again. "Helion, please—"

I stare through low-lidded eyes as a smile slowly spreads across his sensuous lips. "Please what? Tell me what you want."

"Wanna come, please I've needed this for so long," My breath hitched, it was hard to dig the words I've kept buried so deep back up, to confess them not only to him but to myself as well. "I've needed you, for so long."

He leans closer, pecking my lips softly, in such a tender way it made me forget about everything else, about what the court might think, about my fear of being just another game to him. It was only us, connected in every way possible.

"There she is," He pulled back from my lips. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He teased between kisses.

"Helion, please, can I?" I whine, the sound so pitiful I barely recognize it as my own.

"Go ahead love, come on my hand." He rasped, and just like that, the world shattered around me. My orgasm tore through me like a storm, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out his name, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the corded muscle there as he coaxed me through every second of it, his fingers never stopping, pushing me higher, deeper into bliss.

When I finally came down, my body limp and trembling, he pulled his fingers from me, his eyes dark with lust as he brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, tasting me with a low, satisfied groan that sent another pulse of heat through me.

"You taste better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, making me shiver despite the warmth still radiating from my core.

But before I could catch my breath, he was already pulling off his clothes, his eyes locked on mine with a hunger that made my heart race all over again.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" he asked, his grin returning as he tugged his pants down, his hardened cock springing free. My eyes widened at the sight, and for a second I debated if he'd even fit.

"Now," he whispered, guiding me off the table so I could plant my feet solidly on the ground. His voice sent a thrill down my spine as he said, "Be a good girl and bend over the table f'me, yeah?"

I slowly turned my back to him, my legs shaky from the intense pleasure still coursing through me, his hands never left my body. They trailed down my sides, strong and possessive, igniting embers of anticipation in their wake. His touch alone had me quivering, but the look in his eyes—dark, feral—made my pulse quicken.

I bent over the table as instructed, the cool wood pressing against my flushed skin. The vulnerable position made my blood heat, but excitement flared deep inside me, mixing with the lingering ache of desire. His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned over me, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his fingers trailing teasingly down my spine before settling on my hips, pinning them in place. "So eager to please."

I could hear the sound of his breath hitching, and feel the tension in the air as he lined himself up behind me, his tip nudging at my entrance. I bit my lip, expectancy tightening my body.

He pushed forward slowly, torturously so, letting me feel every inch as he stretched me. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and my own whimper joined it, the sensation overwhelming, leaving no room for thought, only the feeling of him filling me completely.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, hands gripping my hips tighter. "So, so tight." His voice sent a wave of need through me, the table was too long for me to find any leverage, I was left stranded between the polished wood and his broad chest, unable to steady myself.

With an impatient, sharp snap of his hips, he pushed into me deeper, granting a gasp from my lips. The suddenness of it sent a shudder through me, pleasure curling through my body in response. He leaned over me again, his mouth grazing my ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice a mixture of lust and satisfaction as he began to move, each thrust deep and slow, drawing out every bit of sensation until I was trembling beneath him.

I couldn't help the moans that slipped past my lips as he built a rhythm, each movement of his hips driving me higher, closer to the edge once again. My back bowed, pressing into his chest and deepening the angle of him, the sensation eliciting a noiseless scream from me.

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me back to meet each of his thrusts. Every movement was deliberate, slow but devastatingly deep, as though he wanted me to feel every inch of him, to memorize the way he stretched me, and filled me so completely. The pressure was maddening, making my body tremble beneath him, a delicious torment that left me teetering on the edge but not quite enough to tip over.

His pace quickened, the drag of him inside me was almost too much to bear, and yet not enough all at once. His hands were gripping me so tightly I was sure there would be bruises by morning, but the thought only made me hotter, the idea of his marks on me driving me wild.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, each slap punctuated by our ragged breaths. My nails dug into the table's edge, desperate for something to anchor myself to, but every time I thought I could catch my breath, he would change the angle just slightly, hitting that spot deep inside me that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through my veins.

"You sound so perfect moaning my name," He murmured beside my ear. "So fucking perfect for me." His words sent a shiver down my spine, a molten heat spreading through my core. My body was caught in the rhythm he set, each thrust rocking me against the wood of the table, it creaked beneath us, but it was his ragged breaths and the low, guttural sounds he made that had my heart racing, my need climbing higher and higher.

He shifted his grip, one hand moving from my hip to slide up my spine, tracing a line of fire until it fisted into my hair, pulling my head back just enough for his lips to make contact with the most sensitive spot on my neck, sucking on the area hard. "I want to hear you," he demanded, voice low and rough against my throat. "I want to hear you fall apart for me."

I moaned loudly in response, the sound raw, desperate, as his hand tugged harder, pulling my back into a deeper arch. My entire body was taut, every nerve lit up under his command. His other hand slid around to my front, fingers finding the aching bundle of nerves between my legs, circling it with relentless precision.

The duel stimulation nearly broke me. My body jerked beneath him, every muscle tightening as I fought to hold back, but it was a losing battle. The pressure was building again, faster this time, harder, threatening to unravel me completely.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers speeding up in sync with his thrusts. "I can feel you, baby. You're close, aren't you? So close to coming all over my cock."

I was. I was so desperate, I could hardly think, my mind a haze of nothing but him—his voice, his hands, his cock twitching inside me. My breaths came out in shallow gasps, each one forced from me by the sensation of his fingers working me toward the brink.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice like gravel, rough and impatient. "Let go."

I shattered around him. My body tensed as the orgasm ripped through me, pleasure crashing down in waves so intense it left me trembling and breathless. I cried out, the sound broken and uninhibited, my walls clenching tightly around him as I came harder than I thought possible.

He groaned in response, feeling my pulse around him, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. His thrusts grew erratic, rougher, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he followed me over the edge, spilling into me with a few last powerful thrusts that left us both gasping for breath.

For a moment, we stayed like that, bodies entwined, both of us panting and spent. His hands, once gripping me with unrelenting force, now softened, running soothingly over my hips and sides. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and I shivered, still coming down from the high, my legs weak and trembling.

Ever so slowly he pulled out of me, his warm hands guiding me upright. I trembled, my arms shaking as I used them to hold myself up. I leaned against the table as I turned around to face him, my cheeks flushed with exertion, my entire body heated with stimulation.

"Feeling alright?" He asks, his voice so gentle in contrast to his earlier roughness. I nod slowly, gripping the edge of the table behind me for support.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, nearly lovingly, then cups my cheek. I allow myself to lean into the touch, turning my head to place a soft kiss on his palm.

Something in his eyes changed then, something deeper than lust or need, and before I could stop myself I was wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck and slotting my mouth over his yet again.

My legs trembled as he kissed me, savored me so thoroughly like he'd never get sick of the taste. He noticed my unsteady stance and hoisted me back up onto the table, guiding me to lay down, sprawled for him.

The table creaked when he leaned on it and I grabbed his wrist, halting him. "The table won't hold both of us," I say breathlessly, especially not if he was going to push into me as rough as he was earlier.

"Then we'll move to the floor when it snaps." He smirks, crawling over me despite my warning, and I can't help but allow a feeling of excitement and arousal to flicker through me at the promise of his words.

He hovers over me, his hands beside my head as he hardens again, at just the sight of me, the thought of me bare beneath him, legs spread for his entrance. His sultry smirk widens as his tip brushes against my core. "Helion," I whimper, his name on my lips a prayer on its own. "Need you," I beg, my words no longer my own as eagerness for pleasure consumed me.

His gaze darkened, the hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. He lowered his mouth to my neck, his lips grazing my skin in a teasingly slow path. "Say it again," he murmured, voice hoarse with need, the warmth of his breath making my pulse race beneath him.

I swallowed, my hands gripping his biceps as my chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate breaths. "Please," I whispered, tilting my head to give him better access, my body trembling with anticipation. "Please, Helion. I need you."

A groan escaped his throat, primal and possessive. He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift, powerful thrust, he pushed into me, the sound of my gasp mingling with his low growl as he filled me completely. The table creaked louder beneath us, and I could feel its instability, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Helion moved with a steady, deep rhythm at first, his hips rolling as he gripped my waist with one hand, the other bracing himself beside my head. "You're perfect like this," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Desperate and moaning my name."

I could only whine in response, the delicious friction building inside me, pushing me closer to the edge with every thrust. He quickened his pace, the intensity rising, and I arched into him, wrapping my legs around his hips, desperate for more of him, all of him. The tension coiled tighter within me, the sound of our bodies colliding and the ragged breaths filling the room.

"Helion," My voice was barely a whisper, swallowed by the pleasure that rippled through me. His name left my lips again in a breathy plea, barely heard below the splintering of the table, and with another powerful thrust, one leg of the table snapped. He gathered me in his arms before we could go crashing, High Lord strength holding me upright, all while still nestled inside of me.

I was too focused on how good he was making me feel to think about the change of positions, too focused on how he was lifting me up and down on his cock, the quick pace making me release a string of needs.

He dropped to his knees, kneeling down and placing me on the carpeted floor, just as he promised.

He didn't relent in his thrusting despite the altering of position, he fucked me right through it, overwhelmed me with intense pleasure so I barely noticed it as well.

"So perfect, like you were made for me," he breathed, his voice thick with lust as he thrust deeper, each stroke igniting another wave of pleasure that threatened to drown me. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing, arching to meet him, lost in the rhythm he set.

I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as if I could merge our bodies even more completely. "Helion, please," I begged, the words spilling from my lips unbidden. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

His response was a low growl, and he quickened his pace, driving deeper, harder, as he captured my mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue tangled with mine, his lips moving against mine as if he were trying to devour me whole. I could feel the way he was losing himself too, the need in his movements matching the frantic beating of my heart.

The carpet shifted beneath us— and I realized we no longer lay against the floor, but a soft mattress. Somewhere during our heated kiss he had winnowed us into what I assume was his bedroom, the sounds of our bodies slapping together echoing off the walls. Helion's hands gripped my hips, guiding me as he thrust up into me, his movements unrelenting. Each thrust built until I was teetering on the edge of release.

"Just a little more," he encouraged, his breath hot against my ear. "I can feel you tightening around me. Let go, love." The endearment sent a thrill through me, urging me closer to the precipice.

"Helion!" I gasped, feeling the coil within me tighten to its breaking point. I surrendered completely, my body instinctively arching and clenching around him as I felt the wave crash over me. My orgasm hit with blinding force, washing over me in intense ripples of pleasure as I cried out, my body trembling in response.

He followed me over the edge, his own release spilling forth as he growled my name, the sound mingling with the rush of my own pleasure. Helion thrust a few more times, riding out both our climaxes, our bodies perfectly attuned to one another.

He finally pulled out of me, flipping down onto the mattress beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder, his hand slipped into mine, our fingers intertwining, feeling blissfully content, the world around us fading into the background as I savored the afterglow.

After a few moments, I giggled softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I can't believe we broke a table."

He chucked breathlessly, the warm sound making a feeling bloom in my chest. "It never stood a chance," He replied.

"Literally," I added, eliciting another quiet laugh from him.

I turned onto my side, wrapping an arm around his bare torso, furrowing into his warmth.

I lay still, the warmth of his body fading as he pulled away, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. My heart raced with a mix of confusion and irritation as I watched him slip into his pants. "I thought I wasn't another conquest?" I muttered, my voice laced with hurt as I searched his eyes for the truth.

Helion paused, his expression shifting to one of genuine confusion. "You're not," he said, the sincerity in his tone softening the edges of my anger. But then I narrowed my eyes, my glare unwavering.

"Then where are you going?" I pressed, the question heavy on my heart.

A playful smile tugged at his lips, clearly amused by my reaction. "Would you have a little faith in me? I'm getting a cloth to clean you up," he reassured, turning toward the basin beside the window. I watched him wet a cloth, wringing it out with careful precision before making his way back to the bed.

My glare faltered, replaced by a rush of embarrassment as he returned to my side, settling beside me, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my breath hitched slightly at the intimacy of the moment. Helion gently dragged the damp cloth between my legs, his movements deliberate and tender, and I couldn't help but squirm under his touch.

"Helion," I murmured, feeling a rush of warmth flood my cheeks as he meticulously cleaned me. The sensation was both intimate and oddly soothing, and I found it hard to maintain my earlier annoyance. His focus was unwavering, his eyes intent on his task, and I couldn't help but appreciate how he handled me with such care.

"Relax," he said softly, glancing up at me as he continued his work. "I promise I'm not going anywhere." His gaze held mine, and I could see the genuine warmth and affection there, a stark contrast to the teasing persona he often wore.

I took a deep breath, the tension in my body slowly dissipating as I let his calm wash over me. "Okay," I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I settled back against the pillows, allowing myself to enjoy this unexpected moment of intimacy. Helion finished cleaning me, his touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

"There," he said, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he tossed the cloth aside. "All clean."

I watch him discard the cloth in the laundry bin with casual grace as if he didn't just alter my entire perception of him. He moved into bed beside me, the mattress dipping with his weight. "You okay, love?" He murmured, tucking me into his carved chest. Again, with that nickname that sent a flutter through me, an endearing sensation I couldn't quite put into words.

I swallowed thickly, nodding as I sunk into his warmth, the kind comparable to the rays of the sun. "Mhm, just tired," I uttered.

"Rest, I'll be here in the morning," He murmured, his hand running down the length of my arm, tracing delicate patterns on my skin. I felt every gentle stroke like a whisper, a promise that anchored me to this newfound connection.

As I settled deeper into his embrace, the world outside faded away, and the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat became the lullaby that lulled me into sleep, a well-earned and deep one, his warmth cradling me into a blissful slumber.

I awoke at first light, my eyes fluttering open to the uncovered windows—the day court being worshippers of the sun, curtains were unheard of here, which made for a rough morning. But something about this morning, with the sun kissing my skin the way Helion had last night, it wasn't so bad.

I flip over, my back to the sun and my front to, perhaps something warmer.

He was awake, already staring at me with a slight smile on his lips. "Good morning," He whispered, his voice deepened by sleep.

"I suppose this is when I take my leave?" I murmur, but don't make any movement to leave. I didn't want to, I wanted to bathe in his sunlight for a little while longer.

He reaches over, his large hand spanning my waist and pulling me closer, encasing me into his broad shoulders and carved chest. "No, my dear, you're not going anywhere." He reassures, looking down at me with a darkened gaze, our foreheads pressed together and his nose brushing mine.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I feign annoyance, rolling my eyes.

He lets out a breathless laugh, leaning down into my neck and pressing his lips into the collection of marks he had left only last night. "You've no idea." He mumbled and I groaned playfully, grumbling a curse.

"Still pretending like you haven't completely fallen for me?" He prodded, the tip of his nose running up my neck.

"I didn't say that," I murmur, running a hand through his hair.

"So you have, fallen for me?" He teased, pulling away from my throat to peer up at me.

"Helion," I whine, my bottom lip protruding as I meet his gaze. "I can't stay here all day, now can I?"

"Who says you can't? The Day Court has no rules against me lounging in bed with beautiful women," He purred. "I've made sure of it." He added with a wink and I rolled my eyes.

"That doesn't sound like a very productive court," I remark, a smile pulling at my lips as I feel our usual banter slide back into place.

He hummed in thought, adjusting out position so his hips were between my legs, his arms wrapped around my waist, and his head on my chest. "Depends on what you consider productive." He mumbled into the cleavage of my breasts.

I scoffed, pulling at his hair and guiding him away from my chest. "You're insatiable," I grumble.

"You love it." He says with an all too confident wink.

"Maybe." I sigh, gripping his shoulder and flipping us over. "But what would your court say if they found out you were bedding your emissary?" I frown at the thought alone.

"I'm their High Lord, they can't say anything unless they wanted their tongues taken—" He suggests, while helping me into a more comfortable position, my head beside his on the pillow, our legs intertwined, my chest pressed against his. "Though I doubt any of them would say a word about you." He reassures, his hand coming to my jaw. "That is unless you wanted them to talk? If so I'd be happy to tell them the events of last night." He smirks and my cheeks glow red, heated beneath his touch.

"Modesty is one of your many virtues I see," I murmur, attempting to ignore my fluttering heartbeat.

"Of course." He gives me a look as if it was a well-known fact. "I'm the very picture of restraint and humility." He quips and I giggle, the sound making his breathing stall for a moment.

His gaze flickers down to mine, his brows slightly creased in conflict. "Stay." He whispered, leaning closer and pecking a kiss on my forehead. "Just a little longer." He added, his lips brushing about my skin.

I sighed, any lingering resolve melting away under his touch. "Just a little longer," I agreed, closing the distance between us as his lips met mine, slow and unhurried, as if the rest of the world could wait.

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suiana · 9 months ago

Text

The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere musician #yandere musician x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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doctor-dusk · 9 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨… 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

what would a musician be without his inspiring muse?

warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, oral (both receiving), bit of anal playing, spitting, unprotected sex (piv). i think that's all, folks.

word count: 4.1k

i wrote most of this last year on a crowded bus on my way back from college, an old lady gave me a dirty look, but it's worth it. probably the dirtiest smut i've ever written so far because i was bored with my job today. hope you enjoy it :3

you had just gotten out of the shower. the skin of your shoulders and chest was still wet and the scent of grapefruit soap still perfumed the bathroom when you left the room amid a thin curtain of steam from the warm water. alex found it funny that you loved warm showers, even though it was almost forty degrees outside. you were wrapped in a dark gray cotton bathrobe, your hair was wrapped in a towel of the same color and you were drying your face with a white face towel.

you noticed that alex was in exactly the same position since the last glimpse you had of him before entering the bathroom. he was sitting in a position that was not very comfortable visually speaking, wearing only moss green cargo shorts. his head was resting on his right hand, which held a pencil with a worn tip between his fingers, while his left hand was busy with a half-smoked cigarette, which released a thin curtain of smoke that escaped through the open window in front of him, his guitar resting on his lap, untouchable.

he had been staring at the page of his notebook for almost twenty minutes. there were a few scribbles on the corners, loose words, but nothing that formed a sentence, much less something that made sense to him.

you tilted your head to see his face, seeing that his eyes were closed now, his hair, which was usually combed back, falling over his forehead, with some of the ends of the strands tickling his lowered eyelids. you gave a weak smile, hanging the face towel on the window and standing behind him, taking advantage of the exposed left side of his neck to give him a little kiss.

‘’what's up, huh?’’ you asked, giving him another little kiss and feeling his skin shiver with the contact of your lips.

‘’it’s all crap.’’ he grumbled, dropping the pencil on the table and straightening his posture, feeling you raise your hands to massage his shoulders. ‘’you know when you really want to write something, you have the idea in your head, but you just…’’ he said, his tone frustrated as he held the guitar. you knew alex well enough to know that he already felt this way before you even asked. you knew his frown, his sullen voice, his strong drag on his cigarette as if he were breathing the air with anger, and maybe he was.

‘’i know.” you answered in an understanding tone, letting your fingers massage the tense and stiff muscles in his shoulders. “but you’ll make it, you always do. you have a mini genius inside you who can think of the most incredible lyrics in the world in the blink of an eye.” you continued encouraging him, lightly tapping his forehead, watching him shake his head subtly.

“well, guess what: this genius is probably on vacation and i didn’t know about it.” turner replied. for a second, you liked to think that alex really did have a miniature of himself in his head, and that at the moment he was just wearing a pair of swim trunks while sunbathing on some paradisiacal beach on the italian coast. “or he must have died, i don’t know.” he finished with another mumble, leaving the guitar leaning against the wall next to it, standing upright and without any risk of falling.

‘’oh, you're so dramatic, turner.’’ you laughed, dragging his last name because of your accent. ‘’you just need some time. maybe relax. you demand too much of yourself.’’

“you know i've always been like this.” he replied, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out by rubbing the butt on the wooden window frame. you've lost count of how many marks there were on the window frame from rubbing the butts of his cigarettes, but you never complained to him.

alex picked up the pencil again, pressing the end of the eraser to his cheek, glancing at the moment you walked around the chair, making a little space to sit on his lap. he felt the scent of the soap a little more intensely on your body, especially when you wrapped both arms around his neck.

alex liked it when you did that without warning, and you liked it even more. you liked the way he wrapped his long arms around you, letting his big hand wander around your waist, following the path further south and leaving it positioned on the warm skin of your left thigh, gently patting it in a caressing manner.

even though he was stuck in his little musical world, he didn't stop giving you the attention you deserved, even if it was just a little. but you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything now, not being so tense.

you had an idea, laying your head on top of his head, since the position you were in favor of the fact that you were sitting a little higher on his lap. you smelled the faint scent of shampoo in his hair, sliding your nose over his scalp, going down a little to kiss his temple, and then his cheek, and then his jaw. you kissed him as far as your mouth could reach, feeling his skin in contact with your lips and feeling the muscle in his cheek contract as he gave a small smile.

‘’what do you think you're doing, huh?’’ he asked, tilting his head a little to the left so he could look at you, but you were more focused on continuing to trail your kisses down his body, each kiss going down proportionally to the point that you had to get off his lap to get between his legs. ‘’you're distracting me, y’know?’’ he pretended to grumble in protest, but you knew him well enough to know that he was far from angry or bored by the fact that you were doing this.

“that's the intention.” you answered with a slightly muffled voice because you were kissing his belly now, letting your fingers slide over the skin of his abdomen in a slowly torturous way to reach the button of his shorts. not even if alex wanted to, he would be able to hide the shiver he felt with this simple act.

“you're crazy.” he laughed, now lightly nibbling the eraser on the tip of the pencil, his eyes not leaving your figure kneeling in front of him for even a second. it was almost majestic for him to see you like that, at an angle he loved, by the way.

“for you? of course.” he heard you retort in the same tone, feeling you unbutton his shorts and lower the zipper with one hand, while the other was resting on his knee. “but you like it.”

“i didn’t say i didn’t like it.” he said, dropping the pencil on the desk at the exact moment your hand reached the hem of his underwear, letting your fingers curl around the elastic to threaten to pull it down.

but you did it so slowly that it actually hurt him. by now, he was already throbbing just at the thought of feeling your hand wrap around him, or feeling your tongue play with the tip, or simply feeling every inch of him burying himself inside you. it awakened unbearable agony in him.

“you're such a twat.” he said through gritted teeth, squeezing the edge of the desk with his fingers. you raised an eyebrow as you feigned offense, threatening to stop. ‘’no, no, love, i didn't mean that, it's just…’’ he said in a frustrated tone with himself, watching you laugh and lower the piece again enough for his cock to practically jump out.

you saw how impossibly hard he was, with some veins marked all over his length, from the base to the beginning of the tip, which by the way was already merely lubricated with precum. it seemed to be calling your name, totally ready to let you wrap your hand around it and swallow it to the last inch, whether with your mouth or with your cunt.

you didn't waste time, you were as eager as he was. your tongue slid deliciously over the tip, tasting him and watching him suck in air forcefully between his teeth. it was as addictive and tasty as the sight you had of him, feeling his hand grab the back of your head, guiding your swollen lips to start swallowing him slowly.

as much as he had that urgency to see you choke on his cock, he could be content with feeling your warm mouth envelop the tip, your delicate hand stayed around the base, pumping slowly and gently and holding it firmly to make him erect as he entered more on your mouth.

turner was already starting to feel the slight spasms with the vibration of your throat on his cock when you let out a muffled moan. he’s not the kind of guy who is a fan of advance warnings, because when you least expected it, you felt him bucking his hips, making you feel him deep in your throat, which made you cough. he moaned shamelessly when you pulled your head away to get some air, playing with his tip with your tongue, giving it kittenish licks from every possible angle before putting him back in my mouth, swallowing him again without him having to move again.

“oh, so fucking good…” he groaned, letting his head fall back, delighting in the feeling of your warm mouth wrapping around his cock, taking him deeper, feeling your throat closing around the tip. he felt his senses overwhelmed, every fiber of his body contracting as your tongue swirled around his pulsing length.

he looked down at you at some point, your eyes locked on his, he couldn't even try to explain how crazy he went when you looked at him like this, hypnotizing him with your warm mouth and enigmatic eyes, wide like cherry pies.

“such a good girl for me. you're going to make me want to put composition aside to fuck you.” he growled, his fist closing around the towel wrapped on your head.

“you say that like it's a bad thing.’’ you pouted, kissing his tip several times and he chuckled, moving his hand to run his thumb on your cheek, looking tenderly at you.

“baby, you know i love fucking you. really.” he purred, holding his cock and gesturing for you to open your mouth, tapping his shaft on your tongue, the slapping sound adding to the pleasure of both. ‘’love feeling your mouth, your tongue, your pussy clenching around my cock…’’ he continued, his words sending slight jolts of lust through your body. he always knew what to say to make you even wetter.

‘’mhm, so we should fuck, y'know?’’ you said, swirling your tongue around his tip, your eyes pleading for him. you said that like you hadn't already fucked that morning.

‘’we should.’’ he agreed with you, pulling the towel from your head, massaging your scalp, the damp strands of your hair tangled in his fingers. ‘’stand up and turn around.’’ he said in a gentle order, patting your neck lightly.

you giggled, obeying him without a second thought, standing up and turning on your heels, the open window overlooking the deserted street was all you had. could there be people passing by or neighbors who might appear at their apartment windows at any moment? possibly.

but you didn't care much about that as you felt alex untying the knot of your robe while standing behind you, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he made you bend over the desk, your bare tits pressing on top of his notebook. the rough paper pages combined with alex's hands holding the hem of your robe makes your nipples harden, the cotton fabric reached halfway down your back, your lower body exposed to him like a full meal.

“you smell so good.” he hummed, dragging his nose over the skin of your left buttock as if he were snorting coke, your soft skin and your refreshing post-shower scent made him want to melt all over you. he was completely crazy about you.

“it's because i took a shower.” you laughed, feeling his teeth sinking into your skin as if he wanted to take a bite, and he would do that if he could. he could devour you and not waste a thing.

“nah. just your natural scent. and a bit of grapefruit.” he hummed, his large hands gripping your buttcheeks, separating them to reveal your two puckering holes, your cunt already drooling, needing him to take care of it.

his mouth watered at the sight as his cock throbbed in need. he didn't think twice or wait for you to beg for him, his tongue was already darting out to taste you, collecting your slimy juices, feeling that his guts were being blessed by your taste, like a sweet nectar.

you gasped softly, your forehead resting on the rigid wood desk, his tongue molding between your slick folds as the tip of his nose tickled your asshole, making it gap at the slightest touch. the wet muscle made its way upwards, sinking into your needy hole, going as far as he could, holding your buttocks tightly to keep them apart.

you muffled your moans as he fucked you with his tongue, biting your arm to prevent some loud moaning. his tongue moved up just a bit, licking your perineum just to tease your tight hole, circling the spot with the tip of his tongue, making you squirm.

“too bad we're out of lube.” he sighed, more to himself than to you. he knew you still could try it just like this, lubricating you with lots of spit and stretch you with his fingers until you were relaxed enough to accommodate his cock, but he didn't want to risk hurting you and consequently never wanting to try again.

you chuckled softly, remembering that you're indeed out of lube. alex ended up overdoing it last time because he felt like it was never enough. or maybe he just liked to see how easily he could fuck you from behind, seeing how his cock disappeared inside your hole that was tighter and warmer than your pussy.

“maybe next time?” you suggested, feeling the tip of his tongue threatening to enter, the sensation almost overwhelming you.

“yeah. i'll remember to buy the whole supply of lube next time i stop by the drugstore.” he said, giving you one last lick, one of his hands went down to stroke his cock lightly, he was hard as a rock at this point, aching to be inside you. his internal struggle with music could wait a bit.

alex's right hand spread your right ass cheek while his left hand guided his cock to your entrance, playing a bit with you, his tip threatening to enter, making a small “pop” when he pulled back. you were about to complain about it, but your unspoken words disappeared when he eased inside you, his thick cock filling every space as if it was molded especially for you.

“oh fuck, yes…” you gasped, your hands closing into fists on the edges of the desk, your knuckles turning white as he bottomed out slowly, pulling back until he saw his tip, slamming back inside your cunt again.

“fucking love this pussy, did i tell you that already?” he groaned, lifting your leg so you could bend more on the desk, allowing him to bury his cock deeper inside your clenching walls.

“everyday.” you said. you almost smiled at the thought if he wasn't picking up his pace gradually, your mind and body filled by him and only him. his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving a red mark upon their wake.

alex collected a small amount of saliva on his mouth, angling his head to spat directly on your asshole, watching how it slided, coating his cock as he moved in and out of you at a frantic pace, the desk hitting the wall with each violent thrust.

he couldn't help but brought his thumb there, circling the tight ring teasingly, threatening to go in a little bit more and more, until the tip of his thumb went through, stretching you just a little, but it was enough to make you gasp and clench more around him.

“do you like that, hmm? do you like having your holes filled by me?" he growled when he reached your ear, his thumb sinking deeper into your hole until his knuckle, making you squirm even more, whining in pleasure as you nodded, the idea of letting him take you from behind like this didn't sound so bad even with the lack of lube. “dirty little thing.”

you brought your hand to your clit, your eager fingers trying to build the pleasure faster as your body heated up, like there's an inferno inside you. but no, it was alex. just alex.

alex notices your subtle moves between your legs, his thumb abandoning your gaping hole to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back, holding it tightly with his other free hand.

“no. only i can do this.” he said, his voice sounding demanding and authoritative despite the husky tone. it wasn't like you couldn't touch yourself, but he loved the idea of touching you, of being the only reason you're completely destroyed after he's done with you. he wanted to be everything to you and do everything for you.

your hand was replaced by his, his fingers already coated with your wetness when he rubbed against your folds, feeling the outline of his cock sliding in and out of you, filling you to the brim and even making you stand on the tip of your toes.

“a-alex, i'm gonna cum, please…” you panted, almost passing out, he was taking you so hard, like he was angry or frustrated with you. yeah, he was frustrated, but not with you. never with you.

“yeah, i know, baby.” he whispered, rubbing your clit sloppily because of the position, but still making you go crazy with his movements, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again, determined to reduce you to a crying mess as you came on his cock and your body collapses onto the desk.

in no time, the feeling of orgasm hits you hard, your whole body lost all strength and you felt the knot in your stomach undoing abruptly, your breath completely disappearing for a few seconds, replaced by a moan that was almost a scream.

contrary to what you thought, he didn't stop there. firstly, you didn't even know why you thought he would stop. he never stops after your first orgasm.

he flipped you over, slipping out of you just to fill you up again, not even giving you time to open your eyes to look at him, forcing your sore pussy to accommodate his veiny and angry cock once again.

“too cockdrunk already?” he smirks at your wrecked state, making you rest your calves on his shoulders. you didn't even need to answer him, even because you could barely form coherent words.

he continued at the same intensity while you tried to escape because you were already crying and didn't know if you could handle the overstimulation he was giving you, your legs wobbly like jelly failing on his sides, being supported by his forearms since his hands were gripping your thighs, preventing you from running away or closing your legs.

“come for me again, darlin’. i know you can do it.” alex said to you, his voice sounding like a rough melody as his face came close to yours, placing kisses along your jaw.

and again, another orgasm consumed you in a much more intense way, your cervix hurt and you felt that you're so aroused and wet that it was already running down your legs as you cried out.

“so pretty.” he praised you, his index finger strolling through your half-open lips, passing through them and entering your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “wider.” he commanded, putting more pressure on your tongue with his finger, forcing you to open your mouth wider.

he took his finger out of your mouth, squeezing your face with his firm hand as he spat inside your mouth, hitting your tongue and the back of your throat. it didn't catch you by surprise, actually. it just turned you on, even if you were already at the height of your sensitivity.

“swallow.” he tapped your cheek, allowing you to swallow it without even thinking, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out just to show him that you did it. “good fucking girl.” he said proudly, his cock twitching at your submissive side, teetering the edge. “fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. where do you want?”

“inside me.” you answered without thinking twice. it wasn't like you didn't like it when he came on your face or in your mouth or on your tits. but you liked the primal feeling of him spilling all his cum inside you. he chuckled darkly.

“greedy. want my cum all to yourself?” he asked and you nodded, finding the strength to lock your legs around him as he picked up his pace slightly, chasing his own release after making you cum twice.

“you know that i love it when you fill me up.” you whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows to reach his bottom lip, nibbling it gently as he grabbed you, holding you close as his head sank into the curve of your neck.

“oh fuck, f-fuck…” he choked on his own words as he came inside you, spilling jets his seed deep inside your cunt to the point that it leaked out, staining your legs and your bathrobe. “jesus fucking…” he paused, catching his breath as the last remnants leave his body to fill you. “christ.”

you finally could let your body dismantle on the desk, your head resting on the window sill, your blurry vision trying to get used to the view of the blue sky on that particularly sunny afternoon.

“you good?” he asked you, still buried deep inside you, giving you sweet kisses along your stomach.

“always good with you.” you smiled at him when he reached your chest, resting his head on your left boob, listening to the rapid beating of your heart.

“you just gave me an idea, y'know?” he whispered to you, his warm and ragged breathing tickling your skin. “my beautiful inspiring muse. don't know what would become of me without you.”

“you flatter me.” you chuckled, running your hand through his messy hair, his sweaty scalp moistened the tips of your fingers.

“just telling the truth.” he chuckled along with you, his pretty and wide eyes looking at you in awe. “i love you.” he whispered again, as if he was sharing a secret that only you needed to know.

you looked back at him, taking the sight of his face so close to yours. you were looking at him with that loving gaze while you felt the blood flow increase in your veins because your heart was beating too fast. but it was impossible not to have that feeling when looking at his slightly contorted mouth as he absentmindedly bit the inside of his cheek, his cheekbones were flushed and his eyes again took on that slightly greenish brown hue when the light reflected off them in that underexposure of colors that matched the ebony of his hair unruly now without the hair gel.

yeah, you loved him too.

“i love you too.” you answered him, seeing the smile forming on his lips, the corners of his eyes getting a bit wrinkly. you loved these little features of him.

he leaned in to kiss you, his body moved and consequently his soft cock slipped out of you, you both groaning softly at the disconnection. but the kiss made it better.

“i’ll have to take another shower.” you mumbled between his lips when you felt his cum running out of you, running down your thighs. he chuckled, it wasn't like you're complaining, much less that he had regretted it. “when will you work on your idea?”

he pretended to think, his lips still sealed in yours.

“after the shower.” he blowed some air inside your mouth like he was inflating a balloon. you laughed, rolling your eyes. he always played these stupid pranks on you, but you loved it.

“will you join me?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

“only if you have me.”

you didn't have to answer him.

#doctor says #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x you #alex turner

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mirai-lunar · 1 month ago

Text

3am.

Stories with some of the Invincible Variants. Fem! Reader (And reader actually likes her variant here).

Includes: Sinister Mark, Omni Mark, Mohawk Mark, Veil Mark (Shiesty Mark), No Goggles Mark

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warnings: Dark Themes, Violence, Suggestive Themes

Sinister Mark

♥︎

The area around you wasn’t pretty to say the least.

He was on one of his rampages, destroying everything he saw on site.

You sat on a large piece of rubble as you waited.

On occasion you would look over your mini ledge to the world below, watching a few civilians scream and run for their lives.

Once the destruction died down, that was when you heard a cape blow in the wind. He was now floating behind you as he spoke.

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

You turned around and pulled yourself up, slipping your phone in an empty back pocket. For a split second, your eyes looked into his goggles. You then looked past him, and pointed to a person in the distance.

“That person is dying,” you calmly stated. “You should probably finish them off.”

In an instant, that person’s head was severed.

He then returned back to you with a cold smile on his face, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re an odd one,” he mused.

He knew what he was. He had no idea what you were.

The two of you met a few days ago. He had approached you, but before he could snap that pretty neck of yours, you had smiled softly at him. In the midst of all the chaos, you smiled.

It wasn’t a deranged smile. Just a calm one.

“I know,” you said, that same smile once again on your face. He lifted you into his arms before taking off into the night sky. Stars shimmered above your head, and you watched the world speed past you. Normally flights with him were quiet, but this time…

“Tell me your name,” he stated. You happily responded.

“My name is Y/n.”

He frowned. There was that damn smile again. Why the fuck were you so happy?

“Can…Can I ask you your name?” You said.

“I never said you couldn’t. It’s Mark.”

“Oh…That’s a nice name-”

“What the hell is your problem?” He asked. Nothing he did bothered you. He could be splitting a person into parts and you wouldn’t even flinch. It was as if you enjoyed his presence.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. Your expression was now saddened. “I didn’t mean to make you upset-”

“You didn’t. Just answer my question.”

“Oh...Well, you saved me Mark. And I wanted to thank you for that.”

“I never saved you.”

“A building you collapsed killed someone I knew,” you explained. “That was one of the best days of my life.”

He raised a brow. You were glad someone you knew was dead?

“…”

The rest of the flight back was silent. Once he arrived at your home and set you down, you thanked him. He frowned in response.

“You can stay tonight if you’d like,” you told him. “Or if you want something to eat, I can warm up some leftovers. Would you like to stay?”

Your eyes were so bright, so hopeful-

“No,” he flatly said. “It’s 3am. Go to sleep.”

He then took off into the sky.

You remained in place for a bit, before ultimately deciding that he was right. As you made your way inside your home, you changed into some sleepwear, climbed into bed, and closed your eyes for some much needed sleep.

That is, until some time later you heard movement.

You didn’t know how long you were asleep, or how much time had passed. But when you felt the weight shift in your bed, your eyes shot open. Fear overtook you for a split second, until you felt a back press gently up against yours.

You calmed, recognizing who it was.

He didn’t say anything, but just him being here made your heart flutter. You rolled over to face his back, and then moved as close to him as possible. As your face rested against his warm skin, you spoke softly.

“Goodnight Mark. Thanks for staying…”

You didn’t get a response.

Omni‎ Mark

♥︎

He was suspended in midair, his gaze focused on the starry night above. It was always so peaceful during these times.

But he needed to stay vigilant. Just in case.

Which is why at 3am, he was floating in the sky above your home. You had noticed his absence, and also made your way outside.

“Mark? Is everything okay?”

He looked down, and to his surprise you weren’t on the ground, but halfway on the roof of your home. Your legs were dangling off the side of the building, but you eventually pulled the rest of your body up.

He sighed before moving down to speak to you.

“You know that wasn’t safe, Y/n.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” you murmured. “I should probably get down then.”

To his surprise (yet again), you didn’t bother to climb down, but instead leaped off the roof. The fall was too far for his liking, so before gravity could even pull you down, he had caught you. You laughed, and his neutral expression was now a small smile.

“When you said you were getting down, I assumed you meant the way you came,” he stated. You smiled back at him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Are you okay? You’ve been staring at the sky more often. Are you missing home?”

He descended to the ground, before making his way back into the house. He still had you in his arms.

“No, I hated my home.”

“..Oh…” You hadn’t expected that answer. “Well, what about your dad? In this world he was a hero until…that day he turned evil. How was your dad in your world?”

“I killed my father.”

Okay, you did not expect that response either. He killed his father, but he dresses like him? That’s a lot to unpack. As he made his way through the kitchen and towards your room, you grew silent.

“I…I see,” you murmured. “I don’t know the circumstances, but I’m really sorry to hear that Mark.”

He paused to look down at you for a second.

“Don’t be. What’s done is done.”

As he set you down in your room, you climbed into bed, curling up in blankets.

“Was there anything you loved back home?” You asked him. In all honesty, you were worried. He seemed to hate a lot of things.

He considered your words before responding.

“I loved you.”

Oh… that’s right. There was a variant of you in his world. You were curious about what happened to her, but the silence that followed after he responded was concerning.

The last thing you wanted was to resurface some unpleasant memories. You needed to lighten the quickly darkening mood.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” you said. “I don’t personally know the Mark in my world. But… I do know you. And I love you.”

That brought a smile back to his face.

“I love you too,” He said. You leaned into his touch as his hand rested against your face. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“Alright, but only if you do too.” Your eyes adjusted as he turned off the lights. You then rolled on your side to face away from him. “Get out of the suit and join me. I want to cuddle you.”

It didn’t take long for him to comply. Once you felt the weight on your bed shift, you waited a few moments, before rolling over to face him. You then wrapped your arms around his waist, and gently pressed your lips against his. He returned both the loving gestures. Once you two pulled apart, you rested your head against his chest.

“Remind me to kiss you a lot more in the morning,” you murmured. He chuckled as you continued. “Goodnight Mark....”

He pressed a kiss against your forehead before responding.

“Goodnight.”

Mohawk Mark

♥︎

“Hey, wake up.”

Your eyes shot open.

As you sat up in bed, your mind quickly raced. It was dark, and you couldn’t see your surroundings. But you could make out an outline of him.

He was in bed next to you, a hand behind his head as he rested casually on his back. His other hand had shaken you awake.

“You were flailing like a fish out of water,” he stated. “Let me guess, another nightmare?”

Your hand reached for the lamp on your nightstand. A soft glow now illuminated the room, and you rubbed your forehead in an attempt to calm your nerves. He waited a bit before speaking.

“Really didn’t expect this to be an everyday thing.” He sounded more amused than worried. When you wiped a stray tear from your face, he propped his head up on one hand. “Aww, Baby… Was it that bad?”

“The last thing I need right now is you making fun of me,” you told him. He now sat up in bed, before leaning over your shoulder.

“I’m not. Whatever you’re dreaming about shouldn’t bother you.” He leaned in close to your ear. “Especially when you have me…”

“I guess you’re right,” you murmured. Your hand gently caressed his face as you looked over your shoulder. “You’re much worse than my nightmares.”

You were immediately snatched down into bed.

“I was joking!!” You exclaimed in-between laughter. You barely had time to react when his lips pressed roughly against your skin. You tried to get away from him, and you almost did, but he had grabbed one of your legs in the process of your little escape. As he dragged you back towards him, you pleaded. “Okay! I’m sorry- H-Hey!!”

You felt hands squeeze your butt, and you shot him a glare. That’s one place he’s always grabbing.

“You’re too much, you know that?” You told him. As your hands wrapped around his midsection, he smiled in response.

“You seem to handle me pretty well.” He leaned towards you, and the two of you shared a quick kiss. “And hey, you should be thanking me. At least I took your mind off things.”

Both of your eyebrows raised. You had completely forgotten about the nightmare.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right…” you murmured. While you considered his words, he climbed off you, and settled back into bed. A yawn left his lips.

“As much as I love messing with you, I’m fucking tired,” he murmured out. “Try to get some sleep.”

“What if I have another nightmare?” You asked him. He sighed.

“Just wake me up. I’m sure I’ll think of something to take your mind off it.”

That sounded comforting.

You checked the time on your phone. 3am.

“Alright then,” you said. You reached over to turn off the light before settling down in bed. As you moved closer and rested your face against his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your back.

You leaned your head up before pressing a kiss against his face.

“Goodnight Mark. I love you.”

He was already snoring.

You furrowed your brows, a hint of frustration on your face. He was always like this. Out in 3 seconds.

A sigh left your lips, and your face once again rested on his chest.

Why you loved him, you had no idea.

Veil Mark (Shiesty Mark)

♥︎

He was peacefully asleep in bed, an arm dangling off the side as he snored softly.

You were standing directly next to him.

Your eyes narrowed, before lifting your weapon of choice in hand. You had already warned him multiple times that you would do this.

It was too late for apologies now.

You slammed the pillow as hard as you could across the back of his head, causing him to jolt awake. Before he could process what was happening, you continued to wail on him.

“Stop! Stealing! The blankets!” You exclaimed in-between each hit. You then burst into laughter. “I’m freezing over here!!”

It was his turn to laugh now.

“Ah fuck.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Every night I go through this, and every night you say the same thing,” you told him. The pillow fell from your hand as you moved away to switch the light on. “At this rate, I’ll have to start sleeping on the couch. At least I won’t freeze to death there.”

“Maybe, but you’ll also be left pretty lonely,” he explained. “Let’s figure this out tonight, or I’ll take the couch.”

He untangled himself from multiple blankets he had stolen from you, and you grabbed a fluffy one, before wrapping it around your neck.

“How about I wear one like a cape?” You said. “You can just tie it around my neck and…”

Your mouth stopped moving, a horrible realization flashing through your mind. You imagined him pulling the end of the blanket in his sleep, and you choking to death by it being tightly secured around your neck.

“...Actually, never mind. No capes,” you flatly said. He laughed.

“You were so sure of yourself five seconds ago.” He then examined all the blankets on the bed. “We have three small blankets. Why don’t we just get a fucking big one?”

“....That makes sense,” you murmured. “So when you inevitably try to steal it, there should still be a lot more of it left on my side. Actually…”

You made your way out the room, dug through a closet in the hallway, and returned back with a large blanket that dragged along the floor.

“We can try this one. It’s old, but should work.”

“Alright then.”

You settled back into bed, and he threw the large blanket over the two of you. You wrapped yourself in the blanket once, before your eyes shot open, realizing your mistake.

“Oh. I forgot to turn off the-” In an instant the room was dark. “-lights. Thanks... Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You were warm, and the sleep was peaceful.

Until 3 am.

You felt him roll himself in the blanket not once, but twice. You furrowed your brows, the amount of blanket on your side significantly decreasing.

“Oh for the love of-” You tried to hold onto the rest of the blanket for dear life, but you were no match for his strength. It was a losing tug-of-war. Once the blanket was once again stolen from you, you were seeing red.

No way he slept through all this. He had to be doing this on purpose.

“Mark!!!” You reached for the pillow underneath your head to slap him with it, but to your horror one of his arms had wrapped around your waist, before he started his little spin again. You were dragged towards him as you clawed at the bed. “MARK!”

He rolled you on top of him first, and then he rolled again, you now on the side of him. Your heart was racing.

If he rolled one more time, you would be under him. And he could crush you.

Thankfully, he didn’t move anymore, opting to just snuggle up to you instead. You could hear his light snore.

“How in the world are you still asleep?” You whispered.

He didn’t respond, and you eventually sighed, dropping your head in defeat.

A bit of loose blanket was all you could grab before closing your eyes.

You would complain later. But at least now you were warm.

No Goggles Mark

♥︎

A cold breeze had woken you up.

Your hand reached over the bed as you spoke with a groggy voice.

“Mark… You left the window open…Mark?”

You pulled yourself up, noticing that his side of the bed was empty. Rain poured heavily just outside the window, and you had an idea where he was currently at.

As you climbed out of bed and stuck your head out the open window, you were pelted with cold, fast-falling rain. Your ears caught a voice in the distance.

“Woohoo! This is awesome!!”

It was him. He was currently zooming through the sky, and his excitement had echoed throughout the air. You smiled.

“He seems to be having fun.” Your eyes turned behind you to check the clock on the wall. “At 3am, no less.”

You then pulled down the window to shut it, but for some odd reason the movement halted. As the window abruptly opened again you nearly screamed.

“Hi Y/n!!” It was him. He had stopped the window from closing from the outside.

“Mark!? How did you get here so fast!? I literally just saw you in the sky.”

He laughed as he made his way inside. Water dripped from his suit, and his hair.

“Hey, do you wanna go outside with me?” He asked you. You laughed.

“Right now?! But it’s raining!”

“Aww, but it’s so much more fun with you!”

You sighed.

“Alright then. We can splash in the water or something.”

Before you even spin around to grab your rain jacket, he had already grabbed you, and made his way out the window again. You shut your eyes and held onto him as the world sped around you. Once he came to a complete halt, you took a second to catch your breath.

“That was-”

You were then immediately submerged in cool water and your body tensed up. He brought you back to the surface, and the two of you now floated in a lake.

“Mark! I meant splash in a puddle! Not a whole ocean!!” You splashed water in his direction, and he laughed before splashing water back at you.

“This is a lake actually! It was the nearest body of water.”

You two kept laughing and splashing water at each other.

“Mark! No fair! Stop hitting my leg!” You said in a playful manner. He gave you a confused look.

“I’m... not hitting your leg-”

“Seriously Mark!” You swam a bit away from him. When you felt something bump into your leg again, you went silent, realization hitting you.

Wait, if he wasn’t touching your leg, then something else was.

“S-something’s in the water!!” You exclaimed. He immediately grabbed hold of you before lifting you into the air. As the two of you hovered just above the water, his eyes looked down to examine its depths.

“Hmm, the water’s pretty dark here so…Oh.”

“What is it?!” You were too scared to look. He laughed.

“I have no idea what that is,” he admitted. “It looks like some sort of creature. And it’s pretty big.”

The way he casually described what was just bumping into you made your blood run cold.

“Take me home Mark! I think I’ve had enough fun for one night!!”

He made sure the flight back was fast. Once you calmed your racing heart, the two of you showered before eventually settling back into bed. You held onto him, and he cuddled you to calm you down.

“You just love to attract danger for some reason~” He teased you. You pouted.

��I attract danger?? You brought me there!!”

“I know, but that creature only seemed interested in you~”

“You are not helping Mark.”

He held you closer before his lips pressed against yours. You returned his sweet gesture, and once you two pulled apart, he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Don’t be scared," he told you. "I can get rid of it tomorrow if you'd like."

You sighed.

“No, it’s alright. We intruded, just... leave it be,” you murmured. Sleep was already beginning to overtake you. “Goodnight Mark. I love you.”

He smiled.

“I love you too.”

If you squint, some of these could pass as fluff lol. Ngl, this took longer than expected to write rip.