#So much of this was typed up with a lot of first hand experience so... to say this was a Gale exploration | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

recitedemise · 5 months

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𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿. This lengthy headcanon will refer to canon dialogue from mostly Gale, sometimes others. Reader's discretion is very much advised. There will be in depth explorations into grooming, emotional abuse, heavy manipulation, and suicide.

First, let it be said that Gale, a mortal man, will always be the powerless one in his dynamic with Mystra. Of course, nearing forty years of age, he remains entirely responsible for his own actions, his own foul blunders and every hurt he'll cause, but it's important to remember who formed much of who he is: his goddess, his deity, and egregiously, his lover.

Mystra is power. Mystra is possibility. She knows what sway she holds over her Ioyal, vulnerable, and entirely mortal followers. In all ways that matter, they are but lambs she can steer and herd as she sees fit. She knows they can't deny her, and knows they'll never want to. Gale's sheer servitude and complete devotion; to the very quick of his bones, she lapped them up.

Gale: I was just... practising an incantation. Player Character: No, there's more to it than that. I know devotion when I see it. Gale: What can I say? She's—she's Mystra. I can't describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence... Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation. Player Character: I didn't realize the depth of your devotion. Gale: Magic is... my life. I've been touched with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.

Gale, orb in his chest, doomed to be eaten by the very thing he loves the most, still speaks so reverently of the goddess, of his lover that has left him to die. He conjures images of her memory—and she is all the while forgetting about his.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rasheman. While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth, I thought it born of caution after some catastrophe of wizardly men-folk of old. Now, I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

Tales of Mystra's treachery spreads far, leaving those familiar waters surrounding Gale's tower in Waterdeep. They whisper her name, afraid to utter it one time too many, suspecting, perhaps, that she'll show in their mirror like some Faerûnian Bloody Mary.

Talent rouses Mystra. She can see who uses the gift of the Weave and feel them, sampling whatever delight sings their veins as they pull from her domain. Not unlike a spider, she'll follows every tremor that strikes her as just a sliver more profound; and Gale, a prodigy, plucked the Weave's web to so garner her focus. And like some black widow scurrying, she surged down that ripple to prey on a boy. There, Gale, so impressionable, was just a mite older than twelve whole summers. He sat so stunned, beholding Mystra as she lured him into the cradle of her Astral domain. Bathed in her magic, pleasantly coddled within that glittering cosmos, Gale felt blessed in a way he'll struggle always to recount, no word, no language, fit to describe it. He felt chosen. He felt seen. And potently, to a child, he felt loved. Now, imagine a child experiencing something like that. Imagine what they'd think, how brilliant they must be when stood beside the rest. She told him he was gifted, made his heart swell not unlike a child's appetite for praise. She knew what she was doing by offering these morsels, by preying on a child's most delicate mind, and Gale, child prodigy, was already so awash in the idea that his value was in magic. Unfortunately, Gale, susceptible, had no way of squirming out of his goddess' grasp.

Reality: She's laid down the seeds to creep into his heart. When he's just old enough—seventeen's sufficient, she thinks—she stakes her claim and makes him hers.

Gale: My virtuosic talent once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her chosen and her lover.

Gale is stunned when she takes him to bed the first time. (Is this really happening?) Mystra claims his mouth in a kiss, taking everything she knows he offers so willingly. Mystra, of course, is not so stunned.

Dream Visitor: An elder brain... one of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals. Gale, tasked with Mystra's missive to sacrifice himself: This is it... I must do as Mystra commands.

Gale has worryingly low self-esteem beyond his magic. As already explored, his entire worth as a man hinged on and was built entirely off his talent as a wizard. He fought tooth and nail for any crumb of affection Mystra would offer his way, something she only gave him at all seeing his gift as a child. He wants her forgiveness. He desires it genuinely. He believes so firmly that he has wronged his goddess, buying into the idea that sacrificing himself will right his wrong. She holds such dominion over him, making him reduce his confidence in himself into a mere, trifling pittance; after all, she wasn't just his lover, but the patron deity he prays to. And regardless, Gale is a people pleaser, his initial acceptance of her missive coming as no surprise.

After all, Gale, at times, goes to incredible lengths to appease his audience. This habit, compulsion, impulse, whatever you want to call it, is a quality that was relentlessly exacerbated in his relationship with his immortal paramour. He wanted to content her, felt all he did was never enough, for as a matter of principle, he was oceans, leagues, and entire galaxies beneath her. Gale figures: well, how can a short-lived dalliance satisfy a god? He had to make her happy. Indeed, he'd done everything she'd ask. He'd bedded her how she liked, kissed her how she wanted, and of course, even said those words she'd said tasted best. She was his lover, a lover that never tended to his own needs and pleasures, and he fooled himself into thinking that's enough. He won't bend backwards for everyone, mind you, but if you're of the ones he would, he would stop at nothing to make you happy. After all, people pleasing is a way to keep oneself safe, a trauma response to sidestep discomfort, and though it achieves only a direly tentative peace, when that is all you've been fed, you will pursue it.

Gale did not want to lose Mystra; he couldn't bare the sting of it. And so, when Elminster visited him, Mystra's call for his death offered oh so callously, Gale, heartbroken, felt that part of him kick up. He couldn't endure the guilt, was so hungry for a chance to let his weighty heart breathe, even if it meant dying in the process.

At least this way, he'll finally do something right. At least this way, Mystra will forgive him, and all his friends will survive.

Gale: After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I'd given up on myself.

As a byproduct of people pleasing, Gale, too, is all too quick to accept all guilt. He self-deprecates, gaslights himself to a venomous degree, and twists his reality in so cruel a way as to make him the villain Mystra'd led him to believe. He self-flagellates himself, the first one in the world who will throw Gale of Waterdeep a mental punishment. Mystra's a goddess, after all, seen as utterly faultless, and twined so tightly with a being so mighty in esteem, Gale slipped into the role of the guilty often. When tied with anyone with grandeur like this, so immeasurable in their own self worth, it's important to keep in mind this: you are nothing but a prop in which to fulfill their ego. Gale was not Mystra's, not by a long shot. Rather, Gale was a tool, simply her mortal extension.

And he took every blow meant for her... a common and terrible habit for many people in imbalanced, ego-fueled relationships.

Gale's life beyond her wasn't something that interested her. She took most of Gale's devotion, manipulated his life to be her sole mantle of attention, for Mystra is not a goddess that shares very happily.

Indeed, long before his self-imposed isolation, this jealous deity did well at keeping him isolated.

Player Character: Picture kissing him. With tenderness. Then, with passion. Gale: I... I didn't think— Narrator: You perceive quick-fire embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.

And so, cheated out of love, so reduced in his value as a man and lover both, suffice to say, Gale's slow to believe he can ever be loved. That's what happens when you're with someone so cold, consistent only in their infinite lack of respect. Gale looks at fondness, and he feels—confounded, to be sure. He thinks, is this truly mine to have? He doesn't know what to do, is nearly forty in game, and despite having lived decades devoted to one relationship, he feels, at the same time, entirely out of depth. To be frank, he greets it with embarrassment, like he's been caught red handed with something not his at all. He's like a child caught rummaging with his hand in a cookie jar, all this isn't mine to enjoy, not mine to indulge in, but he thinks, startled, but god, do I want. He wars with disbelief, uncertainty, and need, and in so many ways feeling utterly starved, with just a glimmer of affection, he falls fast into love.

Scenario: (And if properly romanced, it changes his world.)

Gale: In her (Mystra's) likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death. I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling... No god could ever compare.

He says it with sincerity. There is such wonder, such love, and such awe in his eyes. He makes the act of kissing him feel like you've just reached into the trenches to but pluck him soundly from his ruin and despair. You think, Gale Dekarios, how unloved have you been all this time?

Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… none have loved me so purely before.

The answer is: entirely.

For so long, Gale thought love was simply being chosen. He knew nothing of being favored for the quality of his character, to be cherished and accepted even in those ways he fumbles and lacks. Again, his needs were seldom met, often treated with utter indifference by Mystra herself, and to meet someone so eager to treasure him, dote on him in a way his heart, his body is somberly new to, raptures his spirit and captures his soul. He's seen for who he is. He's... loved, desired for his silly quips, his easy smiles, and his growing affections. He bares himself to them, and in turn, they cradle his heart like something entirely precious. Gale thinks this has to be dream. He says, at times, you are more than I deserve.

Scenario: (But sometimes, he hopes too strongly and loves too greatly. As it always does, then, like he's once more wanted too much, he watches something beautiful slip right through his fingers. Of course, Gale Dekarios. Of course it does.)

Player Character: I didn't know you felt so strongly, Gale. Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.

They don't love him anymore. It breaks his heart. He hurts so much, so profoundly and deeply, and he doesn't realize that he breaks their heart in turn.

Unable to ever voice his feelings with Mystra in any way that amounted to much, Gale's a tendency to wallow, expressions coming off as potentially 'guilt-tripping' and even, on occasion, passive aggressive. Firstly: Gale NEVER means to manipulate emotions, and he's no intention of twisting anyone's arm, either. Fact is, Gale, never taken seriously when he'd bared his vulnerabilities to the Mother of the Weave, can end up saying just a little too much. He feels very deeply, and for most his life, seldom had an outlet for these weeping sentiments. He sometimes lets slip raw words and oftentimes heart-wrenching expressions; all the same, it's not so pitiful as to shepherd an outcome, but rather, is a gesture taken by a man so desperate to be heard. It may feel like scheming, but the truth is far, far greyer: feeling as though he's no right to share the depth of his heart, Gale simply lets it geyser out in a way he can't cork up. In ways he doesn't realize, he's adapted to this ache, passively reacting so his feelings can at least be seen and recognized—no matter how pitifully unwhole. With someone who values so little his thoughts... well, when he slips into these moods, one can hardly feign shock.

Situation: (And if no one shows him trust and tenderness, any true care in his character or worth, Gale gets swallowed up by how wronged he was.

He thinks: Let me be a god. Let no one hurt like me anymore.)

Gale: They only want us to serve them, pray to them...and ultimately, to die for them. But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to? I could make that happen.

Gale is not above anger, and as stated, he is not above pettiness; however, more than that, he is not above righting himself whatever wound he was struck. Gale, if not offered much by ways of affection, understanding, is made to believe that one idea that's lived growing in his mind: Gale Dekarios is far from sufficient; he has to be more. He has to be better. Gale, in such an unkind ending for himself, sips too desperately—and perhaps greedily, too, but desperately serves as a far better word—at that idea that he needs power. And so, wresting the Crown of Karsus for himself, he spites Mystra in his own way, becoming a god he feels is leagues better than she will ever be. Damn her thoroughly. Damn her ego, her power, and her endless indifference. He will serve the people, protect them, and in ways Mystra never could, better the world.

Situation: But as a god, he loses all sense of his kindness. Humanity. All who loved him leave him, and even Tara spurns the image he's become. With power, he's gained the respect he thought he always wanted... but in turn, he lost in even greater measure all the love he's known.

Endnote: But healing, knowing to forgive himself and knowing he's deserving of care simply for being Gale Dekarios will remain, always, the best path for him.

#HEADCANON.#Oh... anyway. This. Was. A lot.#And it was a lot for me mentally and emotionally to write.#So much of this hit home.#Gale isn't perfect. He can be petty and immature—a byproduct of not being all too good at venting his frustrations when #it gets to a point. He has very bad self esteem. He is not forgiving of himself and is too forgiving of Mystra.#He endured FOR DECADES the cold indifference of a goddess he called his lover.#I know people dog on him because he's a grown man with these hurts and traumas and responses #but just because his trauma manifested in ways you don't find palatable or hot or sexy #doesn't mean they aren't scars left by trauma buddy!!!#And quite frankly that bit about God Gale sounding vindictive and angry #yeah! SOMETIMES people who have so cold and uncaring and belittling a partner #end up angry. You shoved someone into a corner and hounded them for SO LONG. Don't start crying when they rear back on you and bite #I have a deep connection with godhood Gale. But obviously a healed Gale that finds love and acceptance in himself is so much healthier.#I'm rooting for you Gale (always).#So much of this was typed up with a lot of first hand experience so... to say this was a Gale exploration #as much as a way to navigate my own trauma is an apt one.#No two tales of abuse are alike of course. Gale's experience isn't my experience. But I can sympathize a great deal.#TL;DR: This meta post means a lot to me. K. Thanks.

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genderqueerdykes · 20 days

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as someone who has been scarred for life by experiences at gay bars, i need people to understand it's beyond tacky to mock people who want queer spaces beyond queer bars- it's dangerous.

let me explain. i went to 2 of my local queer bars a lot last year, as much as i was able to despite being poor. i witnessed a fist fight that was so bloody that ended up with a transmisogynistic drag queen getting hit in the head with a metal baton. the sight caused me to uncontrollably throw up in the bathroom of the club because of how gruesome it was. they had to close down the club and forard people out the back door because of how out of hand this person got- he was screaming transmisogynstic slurs and phrases at the bouncers were were transfem.

i was also sexually assaulted at these places, i was repeatedly groped by several people who i was not interacting with in the first place who found me attractive and decided physically grabbing me on numerous occasions was the way to get my attention. being femme in a queer bar is dangerous even if the people groping you are gay men.

i am also a recovering addict who dealt with alcohol issues in the past and could be considered a recovering alcoholic. i don't want to be around alcohol. i don't want to smell it. it triggers awful memories and also sometimes makes me consider getting a drink, but i can't have one, because the medications i take will cause a fatal reaction- i don't want to be tempted to drink, because it will kill me.

it's not right to mock someone or call them childish or whatever for not wanting to go to a club. whenever alcohol is involved, people's inhibitions are gone and they will do whatever. this includes fighting. i witnessed several other fights. just because it's a queer bar doesn't mean there won't be fights. and it especialyl doesn't m ean that you won't get groped or assaulted because, like i said, since alcohol is involved and it's a bar, there's a high chance this can and will happen.

queer people are not inherently safe angels to be around by virtue of being queer. there are still transphobes in queer bars. tranny chasers come to these bars. homophobic lesbians show up and lesbophobic gay men show up. drag queens and performers bring their cishet friends and family to support their shows. these are not perfect havens. they are not safe. we should not force other queers to interact with inherently dangerous spaces if these are supposed to be our safe spaces.

also these spaces are not friendly to people with disabilities; wheelchair users have nowhere to go especially when it's very crowded. other mobility aids get kicked and knocked over. neurodivergent people can get overstimulated by the deafening music very quickly. photosensitive people can have seizures due to the strobing lights. people with emetophobia like me run the risk of running into those types of triggers. people who are overstimulated by intoxicated people have no choice but to deal with it. dancing is one of the only activities to do other than drink and not many disabled (or even abled) people can dance for extended periods of time comfortably.

not to mention these spaces are not geared toward aromantic or asexual people at all, either. there is a long list of reasons why bars should not be our primary venues of interaction with one another. they serve a specific purpose- for people who want to cruise- but for the rest of us, it's really crucial that we have spaces that provide meaningful interactions with other queers on other levels of our identities.

some people just want to hang out with other queers in a quiet environment and craft, or shop, or drink coffee, or read books together, or just about any other activity on planet earth, and that's not "lame" or "cringy" or bad in any way- these are extremely normal and necessary parts of human interaction that we all require and crave and it's normal to want to do healthy, domestic things with other queers. we need this in our lives.

please take it seriously when people attempt to create queer spaces that don't involve alcohol and bars. it's necessary for our survival and well being as a community.

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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄

DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK

With: Satoru Gojo

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo

A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps

Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him.

But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.

And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.

It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough.

A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment?

His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.

Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.

But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”

He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”

You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.

Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”

Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now.

Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”

He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.

You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything.

He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.

You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.

He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.

You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”

You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”

He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat.

Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.

You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

“Hmm?”

He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.”

You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out.

“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.

You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”

“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.

Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward.

He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.

You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”

He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.

You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.

You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”

“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.

You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”

But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.

You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.

Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.

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dante-mightdie · 13 days

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Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺

There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺

It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.

beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp

c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless

he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price

it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are

and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family

you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either

he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements

he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down

your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude

it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up

goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,

"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections

“appreciating what was gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did

you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love

somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope

perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #viking!simon

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jnnul · 3 months

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riding enhypen hc's <3

a/n: entirely self-indulgent filth is at your service! i spiraled & sunoo's is genuinely dangerous. word count: 1.4k genre: nsfw...straight smut.

yang jungwon

freaks out

when you asked him if you could ride him, he freaked out

first, he had to figure out the logistics, then why you wanted to do it in the first place, then - !

you tell him to just stop thinking and let you make him feel good

so when he hesitantly agrees, he's still worried you're somehow going to manage to hurt yourself

until you finally, finally ease yourself down, pausing every so often to get used to his length

and then you bottom out

and jungwon sees heaven

he's too busy trying not to cum like a virgin the second you bottom out to remember why he was so worried in the first place

looking at his expression, you move to lift yourself off of him when his hands find your hips and keep you seated

"don't move. feels good."

you almost laugh at the neanderthal language your boyfriend is using but suddenly, he's guiding your hips forward and you're too shocked to laugh

goddamn. you knew it would feel good for him but not this good

jungwon never tries to control your movements when you have sex but clearly, this was a new experience for him

you like it. a lot.

as you do it more often and jungwon gets more used to it, he likes being a little more dominant by telling you to stop or keep going

mostly because knowing that you like it makes him horny as fuck

lee heeseung

b e g s you to do it

except he manages to do it in a way where you’re convinced that it was your idea in the first place

tries his best to keep his hands to himself

fails every time

kinda like jungwon, his hands always just naturally gravitate towards your hips

loves to control your pace and drag your hips slowly against his

bc he knows how much you hate it

he makes sure to bring you to the edge and rip your pleasure away at the last second

he's a fucking asshole (and you tell him as much) but he just laughs and kisses your tears away

definitely the type to tell you to sit slowly only to knock the wind out of you by thrusting suddenly

loves it when you grab his shoulders, trying to steady yourself

he gets such an ego boost when your thighs are shaking, and your grip on his body is too tight

he likes knowing that he's the single man on earth who could make you feel this good

will 100% kiss your collarbone when you're leaning over him

riding him is fun, teasing but also really romantic when he wants to be

absolutely will not flip you over, even when you get tired

"you're tired? that's alright, baby. we've got all night and nowhere to be."

park jongseong

such a cutie patootie bc he's always thinking abt if you're going through too much trouble

honestly, you would only be able to ride him when he's really tired

or when he's feeling a little down or when you just wanna spoil him

bc he l o v e s it when you ride him but he's always so worried abt you :(

sits against the headboard so that you can have more stability

presses so many kisses against your chest and neck

loves it when you're slow and grinding against him, just enjoying how full he makes you feel

loves it even more when you're riding him like it's the only thing you can think of doing in that moment

absolutely runs his hands up and down your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him

always is kissing you btw

no matter how fucked out you are (or he is, tbh) he's always kissing you bc you're going out of your way to make him feel good

just so incredibly love w you

will absolutely be asking if you want him to flip you over and make you feel good

doesn't believe you when you say that riding him does make you feel good

accidentally leaves bruises on your hips from how hard his grip is on you

kisses every single one of the bruises he leaves because he feels so sorry :(

definitely a groaner and his head falls back when you bottom out

he's such a romantic omg

jake sim

so excited cannot control himself

will beg you to ride him and is not ashamed of it

"yeah and you would too if your s/o was as hot as mine."

is kinda silly abt it because for him, pleasure is the ultimate goal

so even though you're riding him, he will 'accidentally' thrust upwards just to see you gasp

absolutely the type to do goofy shit in the middle to see you lose your breath

gets such an ego boost when you're sweating, trying not to cum before him when he's making it so hard for you

is a rlly sensual person so if the vibe is kinda serious, he will absolutely be pushing your hair back, pressing kisses against your shoulders

prefers you to ride him when the two of you are sitting

like sitting in an armchair or some shit

he feels like he's closer to you and he rlly likes the feeling of you clinging to him (kinda like heeseung)

is super versatile? like he gets turned on by pretty much everything and is into everything

so he can go from having a rlly serious vibe and kissing you senseless while you're seated full of him

to bouncing you on his dick faster than you can even register the switch

gets such a kick of adrenaline when you're fucked thoughtless when you're riding him

especially when you're babbling nonsense about how you don't want to stop and that you're in love w his dick

ABSOLUTELY goes feral for the praise

park sunghoon

one serving of a cocky ass mf when you first suggest it ("LMAOO you like like me")

kinda like jay in that he feels bad at first bc he rlly only lets you do it when he's feeling rlly tired

or when he just wants to be taken care of

since most of the time, he likes it for you to just sit back and relax

when he finally gives in though, he enjoys it to the fullest

absolutely accidentally edges you while he edges himself

everything feels so intense that he just needs you to stop every so often for you to catch your breath

and for him to get his head straight

but his thoughts grow cloudier and cloudier the longer you ride him

eventually, he gives up the reigns to you and that's when the fun really begins

he's such a sweetie when he's so far gone

tries his best to be quiet but just starts babbling when you ride him like it's the only thing you can think of doing

his hands are all over your body, trying to find something to anchor himself to

mark. him. up.

loves feeling special to you and feeling like you'd never give anyone else the chance to make you feel good like this

i wouldn't say that he's subby necessarily but he kinda gives into a more gentle and pliable side of him that you normally don't see

and when he cums, good god praise him so much pls :( he deserves it

kim sunoo

actually the best person to ever ride (i say this from personal experience)

slightly more dominant than usual because he loves seeing you melt when he takes control

snaps his hips up when you least expect it to see you whimper

gets such an ego boost when you lose your strength and fall into his arms

will hold you close to his chest as he fucks into you

kisses you when you're leaning into him

very slow and steady and purposeful with his movements, making you want more when he does the slightest movements

laughs when you nearly pass out after you cum (not in a mean way) (in a slightly mean way)

thinks you're absolutely adorable and likes watching you fumble for a couple moments before he starts guiding you

honestly probably doesn't let you do it very often bc he has to be in a very specific mindset for it

probably only happens when you're feeling RLLY needy

it's also probably just foreplay to him before he flips you over and fucks you until your mind goes absolutely blank

might even get freaky with it

do not get surprised if he ties your hands behind your back with a tie or smth

and tells you to 'get moving' in teasing way

overall, unlocks a side of him that you rarely get but absolutely love every time that you see it

#jnnul #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut headcanons #enhypen headcanons #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #jay smut #jay hard hours #jungwon smut #jungwon hard hours #sunoo smut #sunoo hard hours #jake smut #jake hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard hours

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month

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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

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slttygeto · 9 months

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WHISPERED PROMISES—S. SHINICHIRO

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you meet shinichiro one day when he’s working in his shop. you’re sweet, nice and there’s an obvious tension between you two. you feel like a teenager with the way he’s making you nervous, but you accept to go on a date with him. things only get better from there.

જ⁀➴ content warning: so much fluff i almost cried, fem!reader, you and shin have the biggest crush on each other, he’s so sweet and respectful, eventual smut, mentions of a breeding kink, protected sex, fingering, oral (fem! receiving), pussy whipped shinichiro, dirty talk, lots of kisses, shin has a big dick<3

જ⁀➴word count: 7,9k (lord have mercy)

જ⁀➴note: a great thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again!! I got so carried with this fic, the plot was just so good!!

COMMISSIONS ARE STILL OPEN: 1 SLOT LEFT.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

Working on weekends was Shinichiro’s least favorite thing about his job. He tried his best to make it a good experience, he really did, but he was tired from a long week of working eight hours a day (and sometimes more when there was an emergency). And so, small things got on his nerves.

His lunchbox wouldn’t open, he forgot to pack chopsticks with him, he forgot to put water in his mini-fridge, the air conditioner was barely working—good lord, he was getting so annoyed.

Ring!

Oh great, a customer visiting when he was at his wits ends. Shinichiro stands up from his crouching position next to the bike he was working on. He grabs the rug that was attached to his pants and wipes his hands. He was expecting the usual type of customers; rude, stubborn, the know-it-all who tried to explain to him his own job and how it’s done. All in all, unlikeable.

Though, he is pleasantly surprised when he finds a girl standing at the door, looking around his shop with heart eyes. You looked so lost in your thoughts, your hands gripping your hand bag so tightly (from nervousness? Shinichiro wasn’t sure). Your stance was polite, and you looked in awe at his work. Maybe working today wasn’t such a bad idea if his first customer of the day is someone like you.

He brushes off the thoughts, telling himself that you looked young—no, way too young for someone like him. Plus, he wasn’t exactly the luckiest with girls. He’s had his fair share of hookups, tried to be in relationships, but things just never worked out for him.

He rolls his shoulders as he approaches you, greeting you with a wave. He was tall, had a smile that had you feeling a little dizzy—good god, this man was attractive. Whether it be the way he carried himself, or how he wiped the dirt off his hands, you could tell that he was hardworking and truly loved his job.

“Hi, welcome to our shop.” He really hoped that his voice wouldn’t crack and embarrass him. Technically, it was his shop and he was proud of it. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest out there, but it was his pride and joy. The display of the many bikes that he owned always caught people’s attention outside and left him grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, thank you, I didn’t think anyone was here,” you were nervous, he could tell by watching you relax and clench your hands more than once.

“Well, someone has to be here,” he jokes and for a second, he can tell you were glad that he did. His playful remark somehow made you relax, and you let out a slightly less nervous giggle (which sounded so fucking adorable).

“You’re right, my bad.” You start looking around the shop again, and the man thinks it’s time to try to get to know you a little better. How can he do that without appearing to be invading your personal space? Should he immediately ask for your name? No, that’s too bold. Maybe…Maybe taking the professional approach will work.

“Can I see your driver’s license?” Very subtle.

You don’t hesitate as you pull it out and hand it to the tall man, and you watch as his eyes scan it for a good five seconds before humming in approval.

You were indeed younger, but only four years younger than him, really fucking attractive. He thought that there is no way you were single, but then again there was no ring on your finger—should he just ask you if you were in a relationship? Nu-uh, too soon.

“Alright, and how can I help you?”

“I am here to fix my friend’s bike for her birthday,”

“Oh you have a biker friend? So you know a little about them?”

“Only the basics, I’m more of an avid fan of the races rather than a participator.” You let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. You weren’t lying, you did enjoy watching more than riding them. But only because you tried before and failed miserably, and you weren’t going to include such embarrassing detail to a handsome stranger.

“Okay, what does she need help with exactly?”

You go into detail of what had happened, and how your friend had stopped riding her motorcycle just because she was too busy saving up money for something else. And with her birthday coming up, you thought you could sneakily get a family member of hers to bring the bike to this particular shop and get it fixed right on time. Shinichiro agrees to help you, and you both settle on the price rather quickly. Now you no longer had a reason to be in the shop, but you didn’t exactly want to leave either.

“You’re not busy?”

“Not at all,” you look at the display of the many fancy motorcycles he owned, letting out a “wow” at how shiny and pretty they looked. He took good care of them.

“My name is Shinichiro, by the way.” He takes his hand out to shake yours and you accept it immediately. You try not to blush at how rough his hand felt, evidence of true hard work. Could he get any more attractive?

“Nice to meet you, Shinichiro,” you grin at the man, and feel him squeeze your hand tightly before relaxing. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated and thought ‘nevermind’. But the longer you stayed in his shop, the more obvious it was to the man that if you left the shop without his number, he would be the one to call himself a loser. No need for Benkei and Wakasa to do that for him.

“So, uh…” His lips part, his hand comes to the back of his neck and your heart picks up its pace. You could see that the tips of his ears were turning red, and his hand hadn’t let go of yours. “This is a little unprofessional of me…” He mumbles to himself. He sighs and you chuckle and at the dilemma he seems to be in, but that sound alone seems to encourage him to speak more. He wants to hear you laugh again, you seemed very comfortable with what was happening.

“Would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to know you better, you seem like a really nice girl and—“

“Absolutely.” You don’t let him go on with his little ramble, only flash him a nervous grin. The apples of your cheeks were as red as his, and it truly felt like two teenagers confessing to one another. You loved a man that made you feel like this.

“Oh?” He grins back, and his hand slides down from his nape to the back pocket of his jeans. “Great, when are you available?”

“Tomorrow, my place.” Shinichiro almost chokes on his saliva at your words. Your place? It was too early for that, not that he minded—but he wanted to be a gentleman, wait at least a few dates before even trying to get in bed with you—

Sensing that he was malfunctioning, your other hand slides on top of the hand that was holding yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I just thought going to a restaurant would be a waste of money—and personally, I love cooking. We can just watch a movie and hang out?” You felt like such a breath of fresh air. Somehow, feeling your skin against his made him immediately relax.

It’s not the idea of coming to your place that scared him, he just always thought you only do that after a while of dating. But here you were, suggesting that an indoor date would be better and cheaper than at a restaurant. Plus, he felt like he could get to know you better if you’re sitting on the couch together alone rather than in a place filled with people.

“I love the idea. So, tomorrow?”

“8PM, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

After exchanging phone numbers, you and Shinichiro practically texted almost all night. You talked about everything and nothing, almost forgetting to send him your location. Turns out, you didn’t really live that far away from his own place, nearly less than a five minute walk.

He was really nervous. He didn’t tell anyone about the date, made up some bullshit of a lie that he was going out for a few hours and his friends were already eyeing him weird. He simply wanted to take his time with you. Your chemistry seemed promising even though you’ve known each other for less than a day.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and if you were going to choose not to go out on a date with him again, he could at least keep it a secret to himself.

Since you were the one cooking tonight, Shinichiro thought it would be rude if he didn’t bring anything with him. So he got a bouquet, brought board games with him and some drinks just in case. He felt stupid for not having asked you beforehand what kind of drinks you liked, but he was almost at your place. No time for regrets.

You had also told him to dress comfortably. You were going to chill in your living room for a while, and you wanted your date to feel as natural as possible. So here he was, dressed in a white hoodie and some grey sweatpants, his hair was still slightly wet from the quick shower he took after getting off work, and he hoped that he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Arriving at your doorstep, the man was more than sure that this was your place. You had a cute doormat with the word ‘WELCOME’ written in bold, along with two huge plants on either side of it. If your doorstep felt this cozy, he could only imagine what the inside looks like.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waits approximately three seconds before he hears the sound of you running barefoot to the doorstep, a muffled “I’m coming!” accompanied with it. You handle a few locks before opening the door, greeting him with the cutest smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have time to look at your outfit or tell you how nice you look before you were wrapping your arms around him. You don’t squeeze too tight, but Shinichiro feels you flinch and pull away.

“Oh, sorry! I got too excited—“ you’re blushing—fuck, you’re blushing and he’s getting butterflies in his stomach like a teenager. Shinichiro has been on enough dates to know the difference between feeling nervous and having an absolute crush on his date—it was the latter with you.

“It’s okay, I like hugs,” he places the bag full of goods on the floor and pulls you in another hug, his hand caressing your back gently. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating, because then he would be fucked.

“You smell really good,” you mumble against his chest and you feel him hum. He leans down and you can feel his nose on top of your head—this was too intimate for a first date, but neither of you minded.

“You smell like roses,” he lets you pull away from the hug, grinning from ear to ear that his words were getting you to blush this hard.

“Thank you.” So shy, so sweet--

I swear if this doesn’t work out, I’ll never date again.

“Oh how rude of me, please come on in!” You lead him all the way inside, and Shinichiro can finally take a look at your outfit. You were wearing the cutest dress that reached right above your knees, along with a pair of fuzzy socks. You looked so comfortable and adorable, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“Quite the cute outfit,” his tone is playful, it makes you pause what you were doing in the kitchen to give him a playful glare yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I wanted us to feel comfortable. It’s bad enough that my heart is about to explode,” so it wasn’t just him feeling nervous, cool.

“You’re also nervous?”

“Also?” now it’s your turn to sound playful and the man laughs at your antics. He takes a seat on your couch, and waits for you to join him. He looks around your apartment, and takes in how well thought everything seemed to be. From the candles sitting by the tiny coffee table, to the polaroids hanging on the wall—your place felt like a perfect representation of how you were as a person and as a friend; comforting and sweet.

“You got me my favorite drink!” Your excited voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He stares at you and the way your eyes seem to light up at a simple drink. He picked out the flavor very randomly, his thought process was ‘I hope she likes this’ and turns out, you did.

Lucky him. Everything he seemed to do or pick for you aligned perfectly with your preferences. Though, he couldn’t deny that he was eager to learn more about you; what you did for a living, what your favorite pet was, your sleeping schedule, your favorite place to eat—he needed to stop.

You approached the TV and grabbed your remote control before turning around to face him.

“Food is almost ready, wanna watch something in the mean time?” Shinichiro nods and you quickly take a seat next to him on the couch.

“So, what kind of shows are you into?”

The next half hour passes by rather quickly, and you end up not watching anything as you both chat on the couch. He helps you check in on the food when you gasp in horror, thinking that it got burned—but thank god, it didn’t. You talk about your childhood, what you did for a living and how things were going for you. If you had any friends living nearby, where you grew up. You appreciated how attentive the dark haired male sitting on your kitchen stool was, your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed you an adorable grin. You were absolutely doomed.

“How about you though, any friends or family living around you?” You ask as you start serving the pasta on the plates he helped setting on the table. He hums in response, but you think it was directed towards the food and how delicious it looked.

“I have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders.

“You give off oldest brother vibes,”

“In a good way I hope,” he teases, waiting for you to take a seat facing him.

“An amazing way, you seem very caring and selfless.” You light up the candle sitting in the middle of the table, and Shinichiro tries his best not to stare for too long when you stand up to do it. You were leaning down, the light coming from the candle made you look ten times prettier tonight.

Well, fuck me.

You catch him staring at you, the taller guy almost cooing at how you seemed to blush at his attention. A shy ‘what?’ leaves your lips and Shinichiro shakes his head in response.

“Just—you look so pretty,” he was being honest. He wasn’t trying to scare you away or seem creepy, Shinichiro was just an honest man.

“Oh please—have you seen yourself? You’re so handsome, it should be illegal!”

“Not gonna lie, I am handsome,” you stare at him in disbelief, before breaking into a laugh.

“What? My parents were very beautiful people,”

“Oh, I’m not saying otherwise. It just caught me off guard,” you giggled, grabbing your fork to eat your spaghetti.

“Plus, I look like my mom. It’s my biggest flex,” you notice how he smiles when he mentions his mom, and realize that he used the past tense when referring to his parents. Should you ask him about them or not?

“Were they nice people?” you were thankful that he caught on who you were referring to, and gave you a nod.

“The best.”

Dinner went on very smoothly with you two chatting here and there. There seemed to be no hole in your conversations, and when it suddenly got quiet, you’d immediately fill it with a new topic. Talking to him was just so fun.

He helps you clean the dishes (despite you saying he doesn’t have to) and you learn from standing next to him without your shoes on that he was a rather tall man. His stature was incredibly attractive even with a hoodie on, and he seemed to love dancing while washing the dishes.

“Oh did I tell you I have a niece?” you gasp at the revelation, almost dropping the board game he brought with him.

“You do? Show me!” he immediately whips out his phone and shows you the folder he has dedicated to pictures of him and his niece. He has approximately 500 pictures of her and she’s the sweetest girl ever.

She looks exactly like him, you almost think that he’s lying to you about being her uncle. You can definitely tell that she got her blond hair from her mom (you passed by a few pictures of the little girl with her parents), but she definitely looked like uncle’s favorite girl.

He tells you about her, how she brought some joy to his life a year ago when she was born. You listen to him and admire how his eyes are full of love when speaking of her—this man was the greenest flag you’ve ever met.

“I’d love for you to meet her, y’know if we see each other again,” he hesitates as he says the last sentence, but your hand is immediately wrapped around his arm before you squeeze it reassuringly.

“I would love to meet her,” even if you didn’t explicitly say it, you were hinting that you were looking forward to your next date together. Lucky Shinichiro.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter as you try all the board games he brought with him. Even when you got bored and decided to do something else, the man was down for whatever as long as it meant making you smile and giggle until your stomach was hurting. He loved how you seemed to encourage him whenever he doubted himself, he also noticed that your hand would always land on his back in reassurance when he lost (mostly to tease him, but you still loved feeling his muscular back through the fabric of his hoodie).

It was around 11:30PM when Shin finally decided it was time to head back home, and he had to fight the urge to kiss your lips when you sulked at the realization that it was time for him to leave.

“Man, that was too fast,” you complain as you both walk towards the door, and he chuckles at how whiny you suddenly got.

“Hey, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, yeah?” his hand landed on your back to reassure you the same way you did when he lost, and he noticed how you seemed to melt at his touch.

“Yeah,” you reply in a small voice, shy and suddenly too aware of your loud heartbeat.

Was he going to give you a hug? Kiss you? You were honestly hoping for a kiss, maybe a quick peck?

You were thinking too much.

“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun with you,” his hand rested at your shoulder, and you almost melted when he squeezed it. His hand was big and warm, you couldn’t stop thinking of how nice it would feel if you held it, kissed the skin or maybe traced the scars on it.

“I had so much fun too,” you reply, your hand instinctively wrapping itself around his wrist. Your thumb caresses the skin there, and while your heart was telling you that this was the right thing to do, your brain was scolding you for being so forward.

Shinichiro could swear that his heart was about to come out of his throat when your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your warm touch and caring nature had the man feeling dizzy, blushing once again like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before.

“Goodnight,” he pulls you towards him to hug you, grabbing both your arms to wrap them around his waist. This doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard since your brain had been screaming at you to wait for him to do something.

“Goodnight Shinichiro,” your head rests on his chest, a smile adorning your lips. You pull away from the hug a few seconds later, and wait for him to put on his shoes before opening the door for him.

“Text me when you get home,” you say in a low voice, trying not to disturb the neighbors and he nods.

“I will, bye!”

“Bye!” you wave at him, watching his back as he slowly walks away from your apartment. You close the door and stand there for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts. This was by far one of the best first dates you’ve been on. Not only was Shinichiro such a sweetheart, but you had so much fun with him. You felt like you could hang out with him forever, you couldn’t wait for your next date together—fuck, perhaps you were rushing things? Maybe he wanted to wait a couple of days before calling you again, or maybe he won’t call you at all—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your heart stills at the sound, you almost grab your phone to call the police. But something tells you to open the door anyway, and when you do, two warm hands are grabbing your face and pulling you out of your apartment.

Shinichiro?

“What are you—“

“I wanna kiss you—can I kiss you?” he looks out of breath and his cheeks are pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he ran, or if he was flustered. But either way, your cheeks are the same color as his when you hear his request.

“Kiss me, please.”

That was all what he needed to hear before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and soft, and he kisses you so passionately that you can feel your head spinning. Your hands are balled up in fists, tightly holding onto the fabric of his hoodie to keep him closer to you. Shinichiro’s bigger frame is obvious when he kisses you, his entire form leans over you and it makes you blush even more.

Your lips move together for a few more moments before you’re both pulling away, the taller male still pressing kisses all over your face before pecking you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says one last time, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking away from your apartment.

You close the door once again, and for a moment you feel like a main character in a romance drama. You lean your weight against the wall and feel your burning cheeks with your hands.

“Oh… my god,”

Shinichiro was going to be all you could think of for the next few days.

---

After your first date together, you and Shinichiro went on four more dates. Each one had a different vibe to it; at the fair, at a café, another date at your place and the most recent one was a cute lunch date at his bike shop. He fixed your friend’s bike but you also preferred being alone with him rather than outside with a crowd of people. Not that you didn’t appreciate the dates at the fair and the café, you were still feeling giddy from knowing each other, and so it felt more intimate to spend time together like this.

Shinichiro hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and you were more than okay with it. You could tell he was waiting for the right moment to do it, it was adorable. There were times where it would get quiet between you two and you would find him staring at you so lovingly, it made your heart stutter in your chest.

He was about to come pick you up from your place very soon, and you remember him telling you to wear something comfortable which intrigued you. Where was he taking you exactly?

Soon after, you heard familiar three knocks at your door and almost jumped from the couch. You were so excited to see him, the part of your brain that usually embarrassed you for being so excited for a date was buried somewhere—this was Shinichiro, the same man who hugged and kissed you so passionately on your first date, held your hand at the fair and pecked your lips after winning a teddy bear for you. He got you food when you told him you were too tired to cook, and cleaned your kitchen despite you telling him he didn’t have to.

And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet.

You brushed off the negativity aside, trying to tell yourself that the pit in your stomach was from excitement and not disappointment. He’s been so good to you, just because he was taking too long to make things official didn’t mean he was playing you.

You hoped.

You open the door and is greeted with a good looking Shinichiro. It was dark outside, it was 9PM and so the street light made him look extra attractive.

He always looked good, but this time—wow. He was wearing a leather jacket with some jeans and a white shirt, and he had his helmet in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You tried your best not to blush at the sight of his hair slicked back, but you were so used to turning red in his presence that you just let it happen.

“Well hello there handsome,” you try to tease him, hoping that it makes your blush die down and give you a hint of confidence, but it withers away so fast when he places his helmet on the floor and pulls you into a hug. He smells so fucking good, it should be unfair.

“Hi pretty, ready for our date?” He pulls away from the hug to stare at your outfit and hums when he sees that you’re wearing shorts and a cardigan. “You look adorable.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your red cheek, and chuckles when you look down shyly.

“Thank you,”

“Still shy?” He teases, handing you the bouquet which you hold carefully.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault,” you walk back inside your place and Shinichiro waits for you by the door with his helmet. You put the bouquet of flowers in a vase and fill it with water before putting it on your table. This way, it always felt like a part of him was around you.

“It’s cute,” he flashes you a smile and you have to look away to try to calm your nerves. Making you feel this nervous should be illegal. Did he cast some spell on you?

“Anyway big boy, where are we going?” you walk out of your apartment and close the door, and when you turn around to face the taller guy, he places his helmet on your head and helps adjusting it so that it doesn’t fall off.

“I’m taking you somewhere, do you trust me?” He points at his motorcycle waiting for you both in front of your building and your lips part in awe. He was taking you for a ride on his most treasured possession?

“I do,” he sees that you’re in deep thought and squeezes your shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

He gets on top of his bike and helps you sit behind him, and at first you hesitate on where to put your hands—until you feel him wrap your arms around his waist and tug you to press your chest on his back.

“Hold on tight, okay?” You could swear he was doing it on purpose, but you don’t think much of it when he’s suddenly speeding away from your apartment building.

It takes you ten minutes to get to your destination, with Shinichiro showing off his skills and laughing when you scream in horror when you get too close to car. You never thought that he would drive so…recklessly, but it was fun. He parks his motorcycle very close to where you were both standing, facing a small lake that you always passed by when going to work. It had pretty cherry trees, and people always took their dogs out on walks or walked with their partners here.

“I love this place,” you whisper, standing close to Shinichiro who chuckles at your words. He knows, you mentioned it before when you were having lunch together.

“I know, you always stare at it when we drive past it,”

He noticed. You almost coo at this, and stare up at the tall man through your eyelashes. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist and he pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you pull away from the hug to rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with the same eyes that always had the man weak in the knees. His hand caresses the top of your head as he stares down at you, and it slowly slips from the top to the back of your head.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might just kiss you,” although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you could tell he was being serious. And who were you to deny a kiss from him?

“Kiss me, Shin,” the man doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leaning down to kiss you. You sigh in the kiss, his hands hold your face so gently that it makes you melt into his touch.

When you both pull away, you’re glad that it was dark outside or your faces would’ve given away how flustered you were. He can still tell from your warm cheeks that you were blushing and leans down to give you a quick peck.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” This man was too much for your heart to handle. You thought he was attractive, well-mannered and a gentleman—but this really takes the cake.

You’re excited, giddy that you could finally make things official with him. You’ve been waiting for this day since your first date—and it finally happened.

“Gladly.”

You and Shinichiro were officially girlfriend and boyfriend.

---

Today, you were going to meet Shinichiro’s niece. His sister had asked him if he could babysit her and he agreed, asking her if you could tag along which she agreed to. She wanted to meet you, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Emma seemed very sweet from the many times Shin mentioned her, and so meeting her didn’t stress you out that much.

You got to Emma and Draken’s place at 5PM, they wanted to go on a date (which was well deserved) and so asking Shinichiro to babysit her seemed like the best option since the baby was in love with him. You greet the couple with a smile, and you watch as Emma shows Shinichiro where the bottles and diapers are, and what to do in case she cried—which he knew about already. His sister was just anxious, and probably felt a little too guilty to be taking some time away from her little girl.

“Have fun!”

Now it was just you, Shin and the little girl. For a one year old, she sure had a lot of personality. And you think that she definitely got it from her uncle. She giggles at everything he does and loves to sit on his lap, but when she noticed you sitting on the couch, her eyes lit up. She was intrigued, and she rarely ever met a new person.

You weren’t a familiar face, but she didn’t cry when you asked Shin if you could hold her. She gladly let you take her in your arms and even giggled and buried her face in your chest when you flashed her a small smile. What an angel.

“Oh are you getting shy on me?” You stand up from the couch with her in your arms and walk to the kitchen to get her one of the snacks her mother had prepared for her. You held her in one arm while the free one grabbed her chair to sit her there.

Shinichiro watched the scene unfold and could feel his body tense up. Whatever it was that had him feeling this… dizzy, he needed to brush it off. You were so good with his niece, so gentle and caring—you talked to her with so much tender and his niece seemed to love you; a complete stranger she just met. You treated her like she was your own baby, changed her diaper and helped getting her to bed, you even gave her a bath and Shinichiro could only imagine what it would be like to have a baby with you.

Watching you walk around your shared apartment with a belly full of his baby, so sore and whiny. You would cuddle up against him and he would feel the baby kick, you would place his hand on your stomach and he would caress the skin lovingly. You would be so needy and horny, grinding against his thigh and he would help you—his pretty little wife, bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm—

Shit, he was getting hard.

He was so relieved when Emma and Draken came back, their daughter was fast asleep and you both were cuddling on the couch. He didn’t realize how rushed his goodbyes were until he felt you tagging at his sleeve in front of the car.

“Shin? Are you okay?” You were worried, his pretty angel so concerned for him, so unaware that the thought of breeding you was all over his mind. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he thought since you’ve already made it official and made out a couple of times, he could tell you what was on his mind.

“Can you come over?”

“To your place?” You tilt your head to the side and Shinichiro nods.

“Spend the night, I need you.”

He needs you.

You felt yourself get dizzy at his words, lips parted in shock. You weren’t taken aback by the fact that he was horny for you, but saying it out loud and sounding so…desperate, you could feel your panties getting embarrassingly wet.

“I’ll give you my hoodie, I can go to your place and get you some clothes I just—“ He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t want you to think that he only cared about his pleasure, not when he knew the night was going to be all about you.

“Shin,” you cut him off, and the man stares down at you. “I need you too, please,”

---

Once at Shinichiro’s place, you didn’t have time to take off your jacket before he was pushing you up against the wall and kissing you so feverishly. You don’t know what set him off, but you weren’t opposed to it. His hands were helping you rid yourself of your jacket before slipping behind your thighs to grip the skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, panting and already so out of breath.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, tap my arm, okay?”

So cute. Your response was a moan before you were kissing him again, this time trying to deepen it more than before. Shin taps your butt and asks you to jump, and when you do he wraps your legs around his waist and starts heading towards his bedroom. He kisses you like he means it, and unlike other kisses you’ve shared before, this one has a hint of lust to it—it tastes different; needy, demanding, and you melt into it like butter.

You expect his room to be a little messy, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you see how tidy it is. It smelled of sandalwood and his perfume, bed neatly made. He throws you on top of it like you weigh nothing, and is immediately on top of you after stripping himself of his own jacket. He gets back to kissing you, this time you’re aware of what’s pressing against your thigh and you don’t mind at all—instead, you’re pushing him away from you to sit up on your elbows.

“Are you—“

“Shut up and help me take off my shirt,” Shin’s lips are sealed shut at your words, then he’s doing as told. He helps you take off your shirt and grunts at the sight of you in your bra. Your tits looked gorgeous. He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin below your collarbone, hands sliding up to your shorts to pull them down in on fast movement and you squeal.

“Shin!”

“You don’t mind me getting a little taste first, right?” A blush spreads across your cheeks but you shake your head almost frantically at his words. You wiggle yourself out of your shorts, giving him a little show by letting them hang to your ankle for a moment before throwing them somewhere in his room. You giggle when he leans in and presses a kiss to your calf, but it turns into a moan when he licks all the way up to your inner thigh.

“You wanna tease me, is that it?” His mouth leaves wet kisses all over your inner thighs, before finally getting to your panties. He is shameless as he takes a whiff of your arousal through the damp fabric, and you almost kick him away because of how embarrassing it looks.

“You smell—fucking heavenly, “ he practically moans out the last part, and it makes a shy sound erupt from the back of your throat, looking away from him. But he’s having none of that—not tonight. He wanted you to look him dead in the eyes as he fucked every thought out of your head, wanted to feel you clamp around his dick as he brought you to a mind spinning orgasm.

You gasp when you feel him remove your panties in one swift motion, not even stuttering and hesitating as he balls them up and puts them in his pocket. You couldn’t even ask him what he was going to do with them before he was leaning down and spreading your pussy lips with a breathy moan. He looked so gone and he hasn’t even touched you yet, the sight of him looking so in love with your pussy made your clit throb—which made him audibly grunt.

“You’re a treat,” you don’t respond verbally—you can’t since he immediately wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You inhale sharply at the contact, back arching and jaw going slack when he proceeds to pull away and flatten his tongue on the sensitive bud. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head when he repeats the same movements—sucks, pulls away, kisses and then licks. It seems like a simple formula, and you can feel yourself getting louder and wetter but you have no care in the world. He’s eating you out so good, he’s showing no signs of stopping and you don’t want him to. Plus, whatever turned him on tonight must’ve made him feral if he was all over you like a mad man.

“Shin—oh fuck, oh baby,” you’re out of breath, your hands are flailing around trying to find where to grip. Until you feel the man between your legs grab your hand and placed them on top of his head. He wanted you to pull his hair, Jesus fuck.

You don’t have time to think properly, not that you can. You’re pulling at Shinichiro’s hair, hips bucking and stuttering with every strong lick on your clit. Your body is arching off the bed, and you sit up with a huff. Shinichiro can tell you’re about to cum when he pushed your body back down and slides in two fingers at a time. He looks up and has to hold himself back from cumming in his pants when he sees the blissed out look on your face—glossy eyes, bruised lips and red cheeks. You were a sight to see.

He helps you reach your orgasm with fast thrusts of his fingers, kissing the inner of your thigh and humming quietly about how well you were doing for him, how you were going to take his dick like a champ, how he can’t wait to stuff your cunt full of him and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, your body stuttering and shuddering as you finally get to cum. You ride out your orgasm by grinding your hips to the same rhythm as Shinichiro’s thrusts, and you whine at him when you can feel him kiss your clit, praising you for doing so well for him.

“My pretty girl, my gorgeous girl—you did so well,” he whispers and kisses your stomach, and you look down at him with lustful eyes and a fucked out expression, which he chuckles at.

Your eyes follow his every move as he gets up from between your legs and walks to his nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a condom, and you almost whine at him for that.

“Ah, baby. We gotta be careful,” he soothes you with a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles on the skin before traveling down to your lips. He feels like a mad man when you open your mouth and take his thumb in, swirling your tongue around before gently biting it. What a fucking tease.

“Next time, you can do that to my cock, yeah?” He whispers to you and you nod, but your eyes are wide and blown out with lust as you stare down at the visible bulge in his pants. He chuckles at your stare, and gives you a little show as he takes off his shirt—flaunting the body that he has even if it wasn’t the fittest, he was proud of it.

Then he’s wiggling out of his pants, and grins when you reach your hand towards his boxers to palm his hard-on. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I said next time, hm?”

You don’t have time to pout about it before he’s taking off his boxers—and holy shit. He had your mouth watering, but your heart stutters and jumps in your chest at the thought of such a heavy cock inside of you. Shin watches as your expression changes and he chuckles, his cheeks reddening a little. For a man who was so full of confidence a few moments ago, seeing you look so in love with his cock made him feel a little proud.

“Next time when you go on the pill, I’ll fill you up so good,” he rips the condom with his mouth and swiftly places it on his dick, he watches as you eagerly spread your legs to welcome him between them and you nod at his words, even though you’re mainly focused on his cock.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” he lines up the tip with your entrance and you nod desperately, feeling yourself get even more turned on. “You’d like me to cum inside you, watch it leak out of you when we go for rounds?”

You’re a moaning mess by the time he slips it inside. You cling to his shoulders, face scrunched up in pleasure when you’re able to feel the sheer size of him inside you. Holy shit.

“Yeah baby, you won’t even have to work for it,” he adds, sounding out of breath. He pushes your legs up and shamelessly stares at how you’re taking his dick—your pussy swallows him back every time he tries to pull out, almost begs him to keep fucking you.

“Gonna give my pretty girl exactly what she wants—shit, gonna fuck her full of my cum,” your tummy is alive with butterflies at his words, and you stare up at the man who looks so focused on your pussy. Feeling your stare, Shinichiro locks eyes with you and chuckles. He’s all sweaty and fucked out himself, and the smile he flashes you when he starts to drill his cock into you is devilish.

He knew what he was doing, and you weren’t complaining about it. Your body feels on fire with every drive of is hips, fingernails digging into the skin of his back when he reaches that one spongy spot in your walls—you squeal, hands traveling down almost to push his hips away and that’s when he knows he found it and fuck—he starts to bully it.

You’re a sobbing mess, begging for absolutely nothing in particular but you keep chanting ‘please, please, please’ repeatedly, and Shincihiro has to lean down and kiss you. He soothes you with his lips, a heavy contrast to his mean thrusts. He’s fucking every thought out of your brain, and by the time you’re even able to come up with a coherent sentence, he pushes a single leg up on his shoulders—and your entire body seizes up.

You’re cumming hard around him, your jaw has gone slack and Shinichiro doesn’t stop. The bed shakes with every harsh thrust, and by the time you’re able to breathe again, you’re letting out a small scream at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Atta girl—fuuuuck, gonna make me cum,” he whines out the last part, his hands pinning your hips down to the mattress. You cry out from overstimulation, your pussy aching for him to slow down.

“Just a bit more baby, just a little—“ It only takes a few strokes for him to empty himself in the condom, reaching down to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You’re both a sweaty, panting mess, clinging onto each other as though you were one another’s life line. And even through heavy breaths, you kiss Shinichiro’s cheek, giggling when you see him smile.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your shoulder lovingly, letting his lips travel up to your neck where he feels you hum. You look down at him, letting your fingers brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“Never been better,” Shinichiro grins at this, and he fixes himself until he’s able to kiss you properly on the lips. He makes it short and sweet, trying his best not to get carried away again because he knew you were definitely sore.

“Come on, you gotta get up and pee, darling.”

“And shower… I feel so sticky,” you make a face at the word sticky and the man above you chuckles at this.

“I like you like this, you smell like me.”

“Shin!”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #shinichiro smut #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n

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star-sim · 4 months

Text

"noo! she's taken!" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x celebrity! fem! reader ☆summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆genre: fluff, silly boys ☆warning(s)? ygs liked the maknae ver so here's the hyung ver! maknae ver

heeseung ☆

i think ur a musician here

one of those very personable and insightful ones

giving laufey or mitski yk?

anyways heeseung is THE stan

within your fandom

he's the guy that EVERYONE KNOWS

like ppl will argue who is the best [name] stan and the moment he's brought up they shut their mouths

heeseung does not play around when it comes to stanning you, his gf

somewhat like riki, heeseung runs multiple stan accounts for you

but he's most active and most well-known on 1) youtube and 2) tiktok

all his youtube videos are titled

"[name] concert 11/25/2023 nyc, usa (she looked at me!)"

"[name] concert 11/26/2023 miami, usa"

"[name] concert 11/27/2023 berlin, germany (i touched her hand!)"

"[name] concert 11/28/2023 jakarta, indonesia"

"[name] concert 11/29/2023 melbourne, australia (i met her!)"

like how the fuck is he going to all of these concerts when theyre literal hours apart and OCEANS AWAY

he likes to vlog his concert experiences

and theyre very entertaining because he's like genuinely enjoying himself

on his tiktok he also records his concert experiences

but i also think he posts your fancams and makes edits of you

too many times where an edit of you became known as "that one [name] edit"

he makes a lot of thirst edits of u

too many captions like "i want her so bad" or "she's so fine i need her biblically"

everyone knows who he is, even ppl outside of your fandom or the music scene

hes just that one guy that really likes you

one day ur on tour

its all fine and dandy, ur eating everything up, ur fans are loving it

and heeseung is documenting his concert experience

as he always does

and then it ends and heeseung posts it

however

this concert vlog

receiving a lot of attention

TOO MUCH ATTENTION

THAT ITS

VERY

SUSPICIOUS

........

you and hee are just hanging out in your hotel when his phone starts blowing up

and yours too

all the comments on his video are normal, the ones that are expressing playful envy at heeseung's presence at ur concert

and like

it's not like heeseung doesn't get these types of comments

but one comment catches his eye

it has like 50k likes

and hes like oh shit

"at 3:05 heeseung why are you kissing [name]"

kissing.

[name].

he clicks that timestamp

and oh my god

THERES LIKE A CLIP OF HEESEUNG KISSING YOU

you see

when heeseung records your concerts he's recording it both for his fanpage and for the memories

he'll take as many cute couple pictures and videos with you as possible

and he just so happened to accidentally add one of the clips of you and him

kissing.

in fact

he accidentally added A LOT OF CLIPS AND PICTURES of you and him being a couple

ones of you hugging him backstage, ones of you two holding hands, even one where viewers can faintly hear you calling heeseung "babe"

and the other comments

OH LORD THE OTHER COMMENTS

"THAT SHOULD BE ME"

"HEESEUNG MOVE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!"

"i hate seeing people live my dream"

"SHE'S MINE *growls*"

"[NAME] GET BEHIND ME"

obv theyre all half joking half confused, but i think ppl are able to joke w him bc he's such an obnoxious stan 😭

and heeseung is like

poor heeseung is sweating and panicking

bc shit HE JUST EXPOSED UR RELATIONSHIP

but when he tells u

you literally are just like

"okay"

OKAY????

"it's not a big deal"

heeseungs like WHATATATATA

at first he's kinda unsure

bc ur so chill abt it that he's almost afraid that ur actually mad at him 😭

but you legitimately do not care

and when he realizes this

he goes from

😱

😈

because

NOW HE CAN FLEX ON EVERYONE

he goes straight to twitter and drops more couple-y pictures of you and him

he probably posts a tiktok that pans over to you on his bed or something

caption like "it's exposed now, but yeah, [name] is actually my gf"

its goes so viral

hes so smug about it too

like whenever he gets into arguments abt who's a better fanpage hes like "I'M LITERALLY A HER BF???"

he becomes an inside joke in ur fandom

i think everyone jokingly flames his ass too

"why did she pick heeseung of all people...."

"pixelated fancam, ass editing, shitty camera, yet [name] still chose him... what did we do wrong"

"[name] wasn't lying in her song when she said she has bad taste in men"

"i can't believe heeseung literally stole my spot... i should be the one that she writes all her love songs about..."

free him 😭😭😭

jay ☆

ooh this one is kinda juicy

ur a musician slay

but sometimes you do modeling

for one of your shoots

you're showing off your midriff and ur just glowing sorry

all ur followers are like

"ughhh step on me [name]"

"i don't think ygs understand i need her"

"[NAME] ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

"i want her."

very quickly goes viral

ur just so hot ughhhhh

but ppl notice something upon closer inspection

you have a tattoo on ur back

at first everyone is like

"okay sexy lady love the tat"

but then

when they look closer

they can't help but see that incorporated into the design

is two

very

specific

letters

J and P

almost like they're someone's initials

🤨🤨🤨

hmmmmm

interesting.....

who is JP?

HMMM???

and now that ppl look at it

you have so many songs and albums that refer to JP

like ur one album

called

"just playing, i love you" but it's commonly abbreviated as "jpily"

JP????? ILY?? JP I LOVE YOU???

WHO THE HELL IS JP

"whoever jp is, he needs to meet me in the parking lot so we can have a talk 😆"

"jp my opp"

"jp kys!!!"

"jp is living my dream"

hehe

you see this

and jay aka mr JP himself sees this

and ur like

yk what let's tease the fans

for the next few months ur just teasing jay's existence

using his intials

like one time you wear a heart necklace that has the letters jp engraved in them

or when you tweeted "i love jp" but followed it up with "Jurassic Park is a wonderful movie 😆"

oh god you make it so obvious

"jp is the reason i make my music" and then following it up with "Jimmy Page is my favoritie guitarist 😛"

like ur fans are tired

and theyre getting outright insane

"guys the winter is getting cold and dire... the voices in my headare telling me that [name] is dating this jp person and i don't know how much longer i can live in denial"

"fuck you jp that should be me!!!"

"i hope jp knows how lucky he is... if a hot woman like [name] tattooed my initials i think i'd die maybe"

"i'm fighting demons (and jp)"

until finally!!!

you go to an award show

you look great as always

ugh queen

and ur getting interviewed

the interviewer asks you a playful question like

"oh are you here with any date?"

AND YOU JUST SMILE

"of course, i'm here with my boyfriend, jay park."

oh man

when that gets posted

EVERYONE IS GOING CRAZY

JAY PARK

AAAAAAAAA

and when the actual award shows gets posted

it keeps panning over to you and jay

and everyone is like

THAT'S HER BF????

all jay can say is that he's prideful duh

everyone wants u but he's the only one that can have you

you definitely take a lot of pictures on the red carpet at the award show

and jay is with u in a lot of them

he's holding ur waist so tightly

like you're not gonna run away cuh it's okay omg 😭😭😭

anyways i think it gets resolved pretty easily

ur fandom accepts jay

but they still joke abt him

and when jay makes a twt account it gets worse

he WILL respond to them

and he WILL flex u

every time he does it shuts down the argument right away.... if he wants to win he just needs to mention ur name

"jay meet me after the concert, we will fight to the death for [name]'s love"

and this mf responds "can i bring [name] to be the ref?"

"jay ur hair looks so fucked up in this picture"

and he responds "yet [name] still picked me and not you"

you have to tell him to stop fighting ur 16 yr old fans HELP

jake ☆

sorry ur a musician again

you have a new song that came out

yk how in some songs

there's almost like an interlude

where there's speaking parts

like in agora hills theres a small part where doja cat says "baby can you call me back, it's so lonely in my mansion" yk?

you have something like that in your newest song

cute!

except it's not just your voice

but a MAN'S voice too

JAKE'S VOICE

the speaking part is very flirty and suggestive

and when it comes out

ppl are like

WHO IS THAT MAN

and then when the music video comes out

theres a male actor that you have many scenes with

now.... the male actor's face is cut out...

but there are still many scenes with you touching him, holding him, kissing him, and vice versa

and when the speaking part comes on

that male actor is supposed to be the male part if that makes sense

that male actor is

drum roll plS

JAKE

when ppl read the credits of the song and music video

they can't help but notice "jake sim"

and when they search ur other songs and mv's

"jake sim" has never showed up...

until this song.....

interesting....

ur fans do a lil detective work

and this jake sim guy doesn't have any involvement in the music or acting industry....

so why is he in ur song AND music video....

hmmmm

they can't find any ig account linked to him

except one that's very obscure

it has a funny username like

"@laylasdad1115" so ppl are like "oh that's probably not even him" and you weren't even following that account so they just let it go

WRONG!!1

@LAYLASDAD1115 IS JAKE

and although you're not following that account on ig

when ppl scroll down to your very very old posts

they see something

very

miniscule

but

very

crucial

a post of you and a golden labrador.... and the caption says "i love you layla"

layla... laylasdad1115

and THEN BOOM

NEW SONG COMES OUT

AND AT THE BEGINNING

YOU SAY

"jakey, kiss me!"

OH MY GOD

WHO IS JAKE SIM!!!!!!

"@laylasdad1115 u better watch out...."

"who do you think u are jake sim..."

and then you have a concert

and its not a massive stadium, it's very casual

and there's a part of the concert where you just answer questions that ur fans have and just hang out w them

and someone asks as a joke

"who's jakey in ur song btw?"

and with the most straight face

ur just like

"oh he's my boyfriend!" and then you point to the front row and ur like "he's actually here tonight, say hi baby!"

and jake is so enthusiastic abt it, hes like "hi guys!"

while everyone else in the room is like

WHAT.

the way ygs are so casual abt it is so appalling

"[NAME] YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT U HAVE A BF I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING MARRIED"

"she's taken..... i'm gonna die.... "

LMAAOAOAO

it's known in ur fandom now that ur bf is jake sim or wtv

i don't think anyone even calls him jake

out of pure disrespect (😭) they call him by his instagram username

"laylasdad1115 might be dating [name] but i'm legally bound to her so who's really winning"

when jake shows up to your concerts i do think your fans joke w him like

"ouuu jake ur so lucky [name] is here or i'd give you a black eye"

FREE HIMMMM

sunghoon ☆

three words: your personal bodyguard

you're an actress cutie

and it's award show season

at all of your award shows ppl notice there's this tall brooding figure looming over you

ITS SUNGHOON LMAO

he's like

GLARING AT EVERYONE

HE KEEPS SQUARING UP RANDOM PPL 😭😭😭

ik this might be a crazy crossover but the moment he spots ryan gosling he's so ready to throw fists

"okay barbie boy you look like you want a broken nose"

sunghoon is very protective of you

obv bc the film industry is lowk kinda sus and exploitative, he def watches out for u a lot

everyone kinda just assumes that he's ur scary bodyguard

but then paparazzi pictures come out

and hes with you

in every

single

one

"goddamn her bodyguard is passionate about his job 😭😭😭"

in fact when the annoying invasive paparazzi interviewers come to talk to you sunghoon is sending the the NASTIEST GLARES

but like it's valid bc ur literally walking to Walgreens at 9AM on a tuesday why do you need to be photographed

"hi [name] can we ask you a few questions-"

hoon literally answers for u

"No. 😐."

interviewers are so rude, theyre like "well i didn't ask you, did i... [name] can we ask you-"

sunghoon just blinks and says

"No. 😐😐😐😐😐😐😐." again

and then ygs leave

theres clips of you at the airport where sunghoon is scaring all ur fans, which makes way for you to have a cmfortable flight

i think ur fans appreciate him but theyre lowk scared

"oh god this guy does not play abt his job 😭😭"

until one day

you get playfully asked abt ur bodyguard on an ig live

and ur like "wait what that's not my bodyguard, that's my bf"

UR WHAT????

HUH????

😱😱😱

ur fans are in the trenches

"i cant hate him bc he protects [name].... but damn i wish that was me 😞😞😞"

and when they review some of the clips w you and sunghoon they see you smiling and giggling with him

"he makes her happy so ig i'll let him have her </3"

"this is the hardest sacrifice i have to make"

i lowk think sunghoon doesn't care

he FIGHTS EVERYONE

only for u ofc 😊😊😊

maknae ver

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2hightocare · 4 months

Text

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

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centaurisolarflare · 1 year

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König NSFW Headcannons

It’s the quiet ones; it’s always the quiet ones. NSFW, obviously, minors DNI (SFW headcannons here). A lot of x reader babbling because I am down horrendous for this man. Again, this got incredibly out of hand, and I needed to just stop. Enjoy the filth, my loves.

- I wholeheartedly believe this man is amazing at foreplay. Maybe it’s inadvertent, but he wants to experience as much of you as he can for as long as he can. He loves just kissing you and feeling your body move against his, he wants the time to trace over every inch of you. He’s fascinated by the way your muscles and bones move under your skin and he loves mapping out any freckles/moles/marks/scars/etc you have.

- Treats sex like a skill, something he can hone, something he will make himself good at it for you. He catalogs your responses, memorizes your facial expressions, and takes careful note of how each touch affects you. He wants to be deliberate about how he makes you feel; he puts so much effort into learning how your body reacts to him until he’s an expert at taking you apart piece by piece.

- Praise this man. Do it. All the time. Tell him how good he’s doing, how sweet he is, how good he makes you feel, how beautiful he looks. He’ll blush and duck his head, but he thrives on your words.

-- He’ll whine when you grab his jaw and make him look at you. Make him repeat your praise back to you, make him say that he’s so pretty, that he’s such a good boy, make him say he’s yours and yours alone. Make him stumble through the compliments and clench around him when he’s nearly got the words out properly; laugh when he cuts himself off with a gasp and moans and flexes his fingers into your skin, and make him say the praise again.

- Marks. He wants them and wants to give them. He wants dark bruises that are impossible for him to ignore with the way they ache every time he moves his neck. He wants bite marks everywhere and he wants scratches on his back and arms. He doesn’t mind if you make him bleed with your nails or teeth; he wants to keep the stinging feeling for as long as possible. Definitely the type to press his fingers hard against his bruises to feel them hurt and to make them stay longer. When they eventually do fade, he wants you to give him new ones immediately. If you want marks too, he’ll go just as feral on you.

-- Can’t think straight when you unabashedly show off the marks he gave you. Because he knew he was doing then, he knew there’d be marks when he was sucking and biting at your skin again and again. He knew there’d be bruises where he held onto you a little too hard. But you’d moaned so sweet and told him to keep going, to cover you, and how could he have refused? Now, in the light of day, in public, with people around, he can’t help but flinch at the openness you share them with the world. Because people see. Fuck, people stare at the patchwork of mottled bruises and aggravated blood vessels on your neck, your chest, your collar bones. At the line of dark hickeys stretching from just below your ear, down the beautiful line of your throat, across your chest to where they disappear under your shirt. At the clear shape of his fingertips bruised into your hip when your shirt rides up as you reach for something – something you didn’t even have to reach for because he’s right here and the size of a fucking mountain. You just grin and wink when he puts a hand on your side and grabs the thing for you, and he goes beet red because that’s- that’s how you got that bruise in the first place, from his hand sprawled out against you, fingers gripping into your soft flesh, and his head is fuzzy with it as he snatches his hand back. And you go about your business cool as can be, as if you’re totally unaware of the people around and what you’re doing to him. You’re in a grocery store for fucks sake. It’s agonizing and he’s so conflicted because he’s so antsy about the attention, but he also just wants to mark you up even more. People see and they see you with him and they know. They know he did that to you; they know you let him do that to you. They know, and he feels half wild with it, a little drunk with how they know you’re his because you’re showing them you’re his.

-- He likes giving you hickeys even in non-sexual situations too – for example, if you’re sitting in his lap reading, he’s got his nose pressed against your neck and he’s mouthing at the side of your throat and across your shoulders, and you just end up with several bruises sucked into your skin. He just really likes doing it.

- Before being involved with you he actively tried to ignore his body. Being so tall and imposing served him well for his jobs in the military, and his muscles were a product of maintaining that use, but outside of work his build was just something that drew more unwanted attention to him. The first time you got his shirt off you took a stunned moment to step back and sweep your eyes over him, and he was immediately on edge. The nervous feeling, the anticipation of your disapproval, half dissipated when you locked your bright eyes on his with a sharp grin and yanked him down into a hungry kiss.

-- The first time you saw his cock he would have laughed – if he weren’t so nervous – at the wide-eyed, parted-lips look you gave him. He jumped in surprise when you took him in your hand and groaned at the feel of him. He timidly asked if you were alright and nearly laughed again when you rushed out a breathless string of “König there’s no fucking way you think this is average, I’m going to kill you if you think this is normal, I’m literally going to sue if you’re unaware of how fucking big you are, fuck”. He didn’t respond verbally, but shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “how should I have known?” and does start smiling at your incredulous grumbling. Nothing had prepared him for the dark stab of heat through his gut when you looked your pretty eyes up at him and said, with all the earnest sincerity in the world, “You’re gonna split me in half, big boy; I’m gonna feel you for days.”

-- Now he can’t get enough of watching your face as he pushes his cock into you. The way you whine as he guides your hips down. He is mesmerized by the visible bulge in your stomach when he’s all the way inside of you, watching it reappear each time he sinks into you – he pressed his palm flat down on it for the first time and nearly came right then and there when you choked out the most pathetic, keening noise he’s ever heard and scrabbled to grab at his biceps.

-- Fucks you against the wall, holding you up with his hands tight on your waist, sliding you down on his cock like you’re a fucking toy, listening to your punched out gasps each time he fills you.

-- He loves how he has to take his time getting even his fingers inside you.

-- Loves how he can easily hold both of your wrists in one hand and how large his hands look against your body

-- Loves when you’re on top and you settle into his lap, gasping for air because you swear you can feel him in your fucking throat, panting against his neck about how big he is. When you push his shoulders down and splay your fingers out across his abdomen and bounce in his lap. When you make him hold his arms above his head – looking down at him as you take his cock again and again – telling him how good he is, how pretty he looks letting you use him, the stuttered “y-yes ma’am” he manages to choke out when you ask him point blank if he likes getting used like this, if he’d let you ride him until you’re satiated but he’s still hard and aching.

-- Fucked you in front of a mirror – both of you on your knees, you in front of him between his thighs, with one of his arms banded across your stomach, his hand covering your hip, and the other up around your throat with his forearm pressed against your chest – and, fuck, it nearly ruined him to see how his body dwarfed yours. He held you tight against his chest, occasionally ducking his head down to suck busies into your throat and shoulders, but he mostly made you keep your eyes on him through the mirror. Watched the way your breath hitched as he fucked into you, the way you wanted to crumple forwards when he snaked his hand down between your legs but the other hand around your throat kept you upright, murmuring against your ear about how beautiful you are and how you take him so well.

- All the above size kink shenanigans being said, he won’t fuck you until you’re ready for it. No matter how desperate you are, how much you beg him to just put his cock in you already, he won’t. Not until he’s worked you open with his fingers and tongue and he’s absolutely sure he won’t hurt you. He furrows his brows with this cute little frown when you beg him and promise you’ll be fine, like he can’t believe how desperate you are for his cock, and tells you how “no, you are not supposed to be this tight, it will not feel good for you, let me relax you, let me make you feel good”

-- And on that note, he loves you absolutely dripping for him. Slick and hot and already sensitive. He wants you close to crying for it by the time he pushes his cock into you.

- He will shove his fingers in your mouth and press down on your tongue as he fucks you.

- He fucking loves eating you out. Like to an obsessive degree. He’s gotten so damn good at it that it’s impossible to say no. Sometimes when his mind is too busy and too fast, he just wants to lick into you until all he can focus on is how you taste, your hands tugging at his hair, and the sweet noises you make for him. He’s gotten off so many times rutting against the sheets just from having his head between your thighs; the first time it happened he was so embarrassed, and you were just stunned and amazed that he came practically untouched from how much he enjoyed pleasuring you like that, you had to reassure him that you weren’t mad or disappointed and he got so sheepish when you explained exactly how hot it was.

-- This man wants you to sit on his face so fucking badly but he’s too shy to say anything. The moment you bring it up or ask him about it he is hauling you up his body, desperate to get his mouth on you. Doesn’t let you hover, he wraps his arms up around your legs, fingers digging into the soft flesh on the inside of your thighs, and pulls you down until you settle your full weight on him. Eats like he’s fucking starved, cannot get enough of the taste of you. He’ll watch you the whole time he does it, starring up at you with such a blaze in his eyes that it’s honestly a little frightening, he’s so intense about it but he just doesn’t want to miss any of how beautifully your body shakes for him. You’re reminded of his sheer strength when he won’t let you up; he doesn’t even bother with words, he just makes a dissatisfied noise against you and seals you down with an iron grip. You’ll literally have to be crying from overstimulation and yanking at his hair to get him to take his fucking mouth off you.

- I think he’d prefer to give you oral but of course he loves when you suck him off, seeing you look up at him through your lashes and wrap your pretty lips around his cock. Loves watching you struggle to take as much of him as you can.

-- When you first started giving him blowjobs, he had no idea what to do with his hands and even when you told him he could touch and even pull your hair he was so afraid of hurting you.

-- Holds your jaw/cheek and hair so gently, even when his hands are shaking and he’s fucking into your mouth. He’s downright ashamed of how much he likes it when you take him too far and gag, how he loves seeing the tears gather in your eyes when you try to take him in your throat.

-- Loves when you’re mean about it – jerking him off and sucking the head of his cock until he can’t stand it but not letting him cum, popping off him with a filthy wet noise, asking him what’s wrong as he gasps and bucks his hips because you’re rubbing your thumb over his slit and it feels so good but he thinks he’s going to die from it.

- Along that topic, he loves edging and love-hates overstimulation. I think he’s got fantastic stamina so you’ve either got to have him fuck you several times or edge him within an inch of his life. Loves that desperate feeling when you bring him so close to cumming only to back off, over and over again until everything is hazy and all he knows how to do is beg you to let him finish. When you don’t stop after he cums he gets this quick sharp realization that he’s absolutely screwed because it’s too much and now he’s begging you to stop, whimpering and twitching his hips but it’s too much and he’s got tears running down his face and you’re telling him he can cum again.

-- Overstimulates you all the time because, again, stamina, and because he just fundamentally can’t get enough of you. Loves when you’re shaking, clawing at him and sobbing with these little hiccup gasps, and can barely say anything except his name and “please”

- Okay, okay, I said about how he loves watching you put on makeup. So maybe, maybe, one day he’d let/ask you to put some on him. Just to see how it looks, how it feels to have on. He loves the look of concentration you fix on him the entire time, getting a little bashful when you hold his chin and appraise your work before grabbing something for the next step. When you’re done you sit with him as he looks in the mirror and he’s shocked. He wasn’t sure what he expected from this curiosity, but it isn’t heavy, and he doesn’t look like a clown. He looks… pretty. You’ve made him look soft and delicate, like he deserves the shimmer you’ve put at the corners of his eyes and the faint color on his lips. It twists something equal parts visceral and shameful in his gut, but his cock certainty takes interest in the proceedings when you tell him how beautiful he looks and how he’d look even better with the lip-gloss smeared and the mascara running down his cheeks.

- Another thing I alluded to in my last sfw headcannons list: he’s cum in his pants before. That specific time I was talking about I think would be the first time he ever did it and he was fucking mortified. Like, would have run out of the room had you not been literally in his lap. He’s blushing so badly you can practically feel the heat coming off his face. He’s not even trying to talk; he’s just got his head tilted back with his hands pressed to his face. Mortified. He didn’t mean to. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. But you were so close to him, and you smelled so good, and you were kissing him – licking into his mouth like you wanted to consume him, biting at his lower lip, pulling the collar of his shirt aside so you could mouth and nip at his throat, barely giving him time to breathe. He was so hard it was nearly painful and all any of his senses could pick up on was you and he just. He just came in his fucking pants. And now he feels like he’s going to cry. But you’re speaking to him softly and nudging his hands away from his bright red face and you’re smiling at him. Once he calms down enough for you to convince him that you don’t think he’s pathetic he watches, transfixed, as you skim your fingers over the wet patch on his pants and he full-body shivers at the way you’re looking at him – all heat and predatory intent – and he’s still just trying to wrap his head around the fact that you still want him even after he made such a fool out of himself. It’s definitely not the last time it happens, given how much you like to wind him up, and he gets a little more comfortable with the whole thing as you repeatedly tell him how much you like seeing him lose it.

- While we’re talking about cumming, he loves to cum inside you. He buries himself as deep as possible, which is pretty fuckin’ deep, and stays pressed as close as he can the entire time he cums. Then he pulls out and holds your thighs apart with bruising strength and just watches you twitch as his cum leaks out of you. He fucking groans at the sight like you’ve pulled the sound out of his lungs. He’ll push it back into you with his fingers just to watch it leak out again.

- Tall man. Well-muscled man. Hmm. He absolutely does the Knee Thing. If you’re making out laying down and he’s half-kneeling, leaning over you with his weight braced on his forearms, he’ll absolutely be slotting his leg between yours, pressing his thigh firmly against you. The first time he does it instinctively, just by nature of being as big as he is and trying to balance above you but also be as close as possible. He’s amazed that you feel so strongly about such a simple action but when you start to buck your hips against his leg, he vows to always do it. Which means he later figures out he can shove his thigh up between your legs while he’s got you backed against a wall; and because he’s so tall he can force you to drop almost all of your weight on him, your toes barely touching the floor as you squirm.

- So, I also think he’d really like thigh-riding. He loves seeing you so desperate and grinding against him, too needy and impatient to do anything else. He loves how you whine and grab his shoulders and try to get the perfect friction. He’ll move you himself, guiding you with his hands gripping your hips. Loves how you react when he flexes the thick, corded muscle against you. Seeing you fall apart like this kind of makes him understand why you like seeing him cum in his pants.

- He is so incredibly careful with you. The very last thing he wants to do is hurt you, he’d never forgive himself. I think one of his limits is he won’t hit/slap you in any form. Even if you’re into it, he can’t shake the sickening feeling that he’d be hurting you so it’s a go-no. He was shaky but vehement when he told you it was just something he couldn’t do.

- I also don’t think he be a fan of any sort of degradation – he wants to be praised and all he wants to do is praise you. He’d never call you any degrading names.

- Loves lazy morning sex and any instance where you two have time to be slow and he can just hold you and kiss you everywhere he can reach.

- He loves tying you up, loves the trust you place in him when you let him restrict your mobility. I think he’d really enjoy shibari (intricate rope bondage). He likes the artistic and technical aspect of the knots; it’s an almost therapeutic process to create different patterns and restraints across your body. He likes how relaxed and calm you get, pliant as he shifts you around, the dopey-eyed looks and lazy smiles and contented hums you give him. He loves the way the rope looks against your skin, and he loves the marks they leave after. He loves the intimacy of tying you up, the intensity of having you tied up, and the returning intimacy of untying you – he murmurs praise to you as he removes the rope, he presses kisses at each place he undoes a knot, rubbing your muscles and soothing the skin that has marks.

-- I don’t think he’d be particularly into bondage on himself. The most he’d do is a pair of soft leather cuffs, but if he’s ever been captured and tied up or cuffed by an enemy then he will absolutely not like bondage on him.

-- That being said, I think he absolutely fucking thrives with mental bondage. You tell him to keep his arms at his sides and he will not move them. You tell him to keep his wrists crossed above his head and that’s where they’ll stay until you tell him otherwise. You tell him not to move his hips, to keep his hands on the headboard, to keep his mouth open, you tell him anything and he will do it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t actually have the strength to physically hold him down. It doesn’t matter how needy and desperate he gets, how much he shakes and whines, it doesn’t even matter if he’s crying and begging. He’s disciplined and you told him not to move so he won’t move, not one single inch.

- Aftercare king when he’s the dominant one. At a minimum he makes sure you drink water, gets you your favorite snack, makes sure you communicate how you’re feeling, tells you how good you did and how much he enjoyed you, cleans you up, and will hold you for as long as you want. This man will do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

-- When he needs aftercare, he’d particularly need lots of reassurance. He’s always worrying about whether or not he did well with regular sex so for more intense stuff he needs your soothing words even more. I think he’d really like to have you in his lap with his arms locked around your waist and his face buried in your neck, listening to your breathing or you humming, while you rub your hands up and down his back – the soft noise and the repetitive motion grounds him and he likes to be able to smell the lingering perfume and sweat-salt on your neck. He won’t talk right away but eventually you’ll get to verbally check in with him. No matter how long you stay with him he’s always going to be a little grumpy when you tell him you have to get up and get him hydrated and clean.

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soapsbaby · 11 months

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Take the hint

Summary: The CoD guys and Valeria's reaction to you being hit on at a club.

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: SFW Word count: 800ish

Ghost

He gets jealous really easily, he doesn’t like sharing you at all. Still, usually he’ll just stand somewhere where he can see you well, arms crossed in front of his chest and waiting for you to reject the person.

The moment you’re with him again he’ll have an arm tightly around you, pulling you as closely to him as he can, proving to himself that he is the only one who gets to do this with you.

If the person is too persistent he will go into guard dog mode. He would absolutely break someone’s bones for you.

Soap

He gets jealous too, but he always tries his very best to not show it. He knows in his core that he is your one and only and would never betray him so he will just push the feeling down and look forward to you being back by his side.

He will absolutely make fun of the other person once it’s just the two of you, can’t believe a guy like that thinks he could get with you… So delusional, hm?

König

He doesn’t really go out much in the first place and when he does, he is pretty much attached to you at the waist and no one dares hit on you when you are with that mountain of a man.

If it does happen, because you went to quickly grab a drink or went to the bathroom, he will start spiraling quickly. He already has a lot of anxiety about you leaving him and the moment he sees you speaking with someone else his alarm bells go off, that it’s finally happening and he won’t be the one you’ll go home with today.

He wants to intervene, but he doesn’t dare to, he can just watch, but he feels better immediately when you finally get rid of the other person, rolling your eyes and giving König a bright grin, mouthing “what a weirdo” towards him and immediately get on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

He’ll make sure to not let go of your hand for the rest of the night and be as affectionate as possible.

Price

He’s super relaxed about it, just standing in the corner sipping his beer and waiting for you to deal with it. He finds it incredibly attractive how well you handle yourself.

He also takes it as a compliment that other people find you that attractive, but of course he is the one you ultimately go back home with.

Can’t blame them, honey. You look out of this world.

Gaz

He tries to not let it bother him, but it always does. He is always afraid you’ll leave him and he has had some bad experiences in the past with other people that sensitized him to it.

You know about that so you always make sure to shut down the other person as quickly as possible to get back to his side again.

You can tell that he is unhappy when you come back but once you pull him in for a kiss, still in view of the person who hit on you, he feels better immediately.

Valeria

The types of places she takes you out to are full of people that know you belong to her and wouldn’t dare hit on you. You stay by her side anyway so there is barely any chance for someone to try and hit on you.

If it does happen she gets very possessive. Has pulled a gun on someone who got inappropriate with you before and would absolutely do it again.

Rudy

He will watch on with a grin. He trusts you completely and he knows you’ll handle it.

If the other person is too persistent, he might get involved, a cold smile on his lips as he yells across the bar. Sorry, dude. They’re not into blonds. Believe me, I’d know.

Will be extremely relaxed up until the point where he sees you get uncomfortable with the other person’s behavior. He will get really heated when he sees you struggle and has beaten up someone before, smashing them against the bar and hissing at them to get some damn manners before he breaks their ribs.

Alejandro

Alejandro knows you can deal with it yourself but he still likes to be present as a safety net so you don’t have to feel on your own in case things go wrong.

Usually will come up to you and just listen in, putting an arm around your waist if you seem uncomfortable. Usually the other person gets the hint by then but if not he’ll get involved.

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #captain price x reader #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #ari writes #woohoo another post i am so productive

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rafesaddiction · 6 months

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It's not cheating when he's your stepbrother – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You lie about your first kiss. Will you lie about your first time too?

You are Rafe's stepsister, just graduated from boarding school and here for the summer holidays before you'll leave for college. You and Rafe used to be close, but that changed, years ago. Now he is distant and mean, and something else happens when you have your first boyfriend. A nice guy, a sweet guy, nothing like Rafe.

Concept: stepsiblings, first time, just the tip

Warnings: mdni! – smut, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, p in v, loss of virginity (virgin!reader), fingering, stepcest, violence, slapping, manhandling, mentions of child abuse (ward physically and emotionally abusing rafe), cheating (reader cheating on boyfriend), name calling (rafe calls reader slut and whore), angst, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, this starts off kinda sweet but gets quite dark.

When reading this, please do so at your own discretion. Keep in mind, this is just a work of fiction.

Word count: 9.0k (holy fuck! how did that happen?)

tagging @ashy-kit since you asked. I hope you'll like this.

“Wait! Was that actually your first kiss? Oh my god! It was!”

Sarah stared at you with large eyes, then covered her mouth, laughing. You just smiled, shrugged, and averted your gaze, feeling heat in your cheeks. It was a bit embarrassing that your younger stepsister had more experience with boys than you did. The reason for that might have been that you had gone to an all-girls boarding school practically your whole life. But truth was, if anything, away from parents, kids had even more opportunities at boarding school to gain sexual experience, be it with other students, local boys, or even teachers. You knew that a lot of your classmates did much more than just kiss when sneaking out at night. But you weren't the type to sneak out at night. You were the type to get your first kiss at 18 after graduating from said boarding school.

“Tell us more,” Wheezie insisted. She sat next to you on the couch, cross-legged, looking at you, eager to hear your story. You smiled at your little stepsister. You two had grown closer over the past years, with Wheezie discovering the internet and thus being able to chat with you even when you were hundreds of miles away at school.

“Denny is quite a good kisser though. You’re lucky, he was your first,” Sarah said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of her.

You knew that Sarah had hooked up with Denny. So you had, of course, told her when he had asked you out. Sarah was totally okay with it, she even encouraged you to text him back, when he texted you. Denny hadn't been her boyfriend, just one of her hook-ups, ages ago. And as of now, Sarah was too happily in love with her pogue boyfriend to be jealous at all. It was kind of a forbidden romance, Wheezie had told you all about it, but Sarah herself also liked to share, she loved talking about her boyfriend and his pogue friends and their way of living. And you liked to listen to her exciting stories or when she complained about her father or brother. You liked that you were kind of close, even though you only spent the summer and Christmas holidays at Tannyhill.

Your mother had you at a very young age and you were practically raised by your grandma. When your mother married Ward Cameron, you were old enough to be send off to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. The school was in another state, but could as well have been on another continent. Your mother didn't want to have you in her new life, she already had three new kids to look after. Ward wouldn’t have minded, he made sure you knew that you were as much a daughter to him as Sarah and Wheezie. He showed his affection by paying for your expensive education. Now that you had graduated from high school, you were supposed to spend the summer before going to an ivy league school with your family in the Outer Banks.

“Did you close your eyes? Did you feel butterflies? Did he do the neck grab?” Wheezie kept shooting one question after the other and you felt your face must have been glowing. You looked away, trying to think of what to answer, when your eyes met a pair of intense blue eyes, staring at you from across the room.

Rafe, your older stepbrother, stood in the hallway, looking at you. And for some reason, you felt that damn heat had reached your ears. You quickly looked away, turning to Sarah, who was telling Wheezie that she shouldn't base her expectations on tiktoks and fanfics.

The kiss happened the night before at a kook party. You had been texting and hanging out with Denny for about two weeks. He was your age, he was charming, smart, the former captain of the football team. He was actually so good that he got a scholarship to play at a college team. Not that he would have needed the scholarship to go to college, his parents were one of the wealthiest kook families on the island. Almost as rich and influential as the Camerons. Of course, you knew Denny before, the island was small and he was one of your stepbrother's friends. But this whole thing with him only started about two weeks ago when you quite literally ran into him at the country club. He insisted on buying you another drink even though you were the one who spilled your drink on him. He texted you later, he got your number from Sarah, and, since Sarah was encouraging you, you texted back and agreed to go on a date with him. You had been on four dates already: dinner, a trip to the beach, another dinner, and a date on his family's yacht, when you went to the party with him the previous night. And then it just happened. He kissed you outside the house where the party was. It was a starry night and the kiss was nice. And after, he took your hand and walked inside with you and you smiled, as you felt the warmth of his hand around yours.

“I'll get us some fresh popcorn, then we can start the movie, okay?” You grabbed the half-empty bowl and got up from the couch, while your stepsisters were in some serious discussion about some actor from a show you had never heard of.

You left the living room and walked past Rafe, who didn't seem to have moved an inch. You didn't look up at him when you spoke to him.

“You wanna join us and watch a movie with us? It's Wheezie's choice tonight, so I guess it's whatever is trending on netflix at the moment,” you said and were about to head for the kitchen, when suddenly his hand wrapped around your arm. You stopped and looked up at him, gasping.

Rafe leaned down to you, and you felt his hand gripping tighter around your arm. You winced and were about to say something, when you met his eyes. Dark blue orbs staring at you, so very close to you.

“Why did you lie?”

You frowned in confusion.

“Why did you lie and say that that was your first kiss?”

You just gazed up at him. And despite the heat in your face, you felt a shiver running down your spine.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but he cut you off.

“I hate liars.”

And then he let go off you, turned around and just left, and you felt your heart beating in your chest, so rapidly, so loudly, your stepsisters in the other room must have heard it. You stepped back from the door, your back pressing against the wall, as you tried to compose yourself.

He was right. That kiss wasn't your first kiss.

Your first kiss happened with Rafe when you were 15 and he was 17.

It was right after Christmas. Before New Year's Eve. It was late at night and you decided to have a hot chocolate before going to sleep. You met Rafe in the kitchen, standing at the open fridge, rummaging it for some leftovers from dinner. He was wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater with the reindeer over his sleeping shorts. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. He was already tall then, not as tall as he was now, but much taller than you. He was lean, less bulky. He was a boy still and he grinned like one, when he turned to look at you.

“What's so funny? You laughing at me?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, grinning, “Sven.”

You squealed and giggled when Rafe launched a tickle-attack on you.

It used to be so easy around him. He was always sweet, sometimes teasing, but always in a sweet way. He was protective and you felt safe with him. You were closer then, and it was just easy to be yourself with him.

You got into a real tickle fight with him, chasing each other around the kitchen, as he finally got you.

“Stop, stop, stop! I surrender!” You said, out of breath. Your cheeks hurting from laughing so hard.

He stopped tickling you, but his hands still rested on your sides, and he stood very close in front of you. Your own hands clutching that ridiculous sweater of his. He looked down at you. His hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, his lips parted. He didn't laugh or grin and your own laughing had stopped too. All you heard was your rapid heartbeat and both of you panting.

And his hand touched your cheek. You felt a little spark, but instead of withdrawing, you leaned into his touch. Your lips parted as he leaned closer. His face so close, you could hardly make out his features, so you closed your eyes, and breathed in. And it was his scent that filled your lungs, before you felt his lips on yours. And that contact sent a wave of some yet unknown sensation through your body, and you felt it everywhere, felt it in your fingertips that grabbed the sweater. Felt it in your toes as you stood on them to meet Rafe's lips. Felt it on your skin, where he touched you, felt it under your skin. Felt it coursing through your veins.

A distant sound, and Rafe suddenly broke the kiss. In a state of daze you opened your eyes and moved them to what Rafe was staring at. Or to who.

Ward was standing in the door to the kitchen. His presence towering both of you. You shuddered and jumped away from Rafe.

You slowly walked backwards, your heart racing, sudden fear being the dominant emotion. But when Ward came closer, his attention wasn't focused on you. He hardly seemed to notice that you were even there. He glared at his son, glared at Rafe who just stood there, as if he was paralyzed by fear, unable to move.

You didn't wait for what happened, you chose flight and ran past Ward, ran up to your room, locking the door. You heard no screaming, no yelling, though you had expected as much. When half way up the stairs, you had heard a thud, and then something banging heavily, like a chair falling to the ground.

The next morning, you didn't see Rafe at the breakfast table. You saw your stepfather, who was smiling and being his relaxed self as ever. Only he avoided directly looking at you.

You saw Rafe later in the afternoon. You wanted to talk to him, say something, but you didn't know what. And when you saw the bruise under his eye, you had no words left.

Four days later you left to return to school. And when you came back during spring break, things were different, very different. Rafe no longer smiled at you, never laughed when you were around. When he didn't avoid you, he glared at you. And there was something so dark in his blue eyes that it made you shudder and sob at night.

“But you have to come!” Sarah pushed out her lower lip and looked at you with her big brown eyes, pleadingly, practically begging you to come with you to the party that evening.

“I want to spend time with my favorite older sibling and I want you to meet my friends. Besides, what do you want to do here, huh? Your boyfriend is on a family trip in the Bahamas and you can't seriously want to spend another evening binge-watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with Wheezie. Come on! Pleaaase.” Sarah's pouting went up another level and she made actual puppy eyes.

You didn't mind spending another evening with Wheezie and listening to her endless monologs on why she would always choose Jeremiah over Conrad, over any guy really.

You sighed. “But I don't have anything to –”

“To wear?” Sarah interrupted you and grabbed your hand. “Come on, you can pick whatever you want from my closet.”

You sighed in defeat, but smiled, as you followed your stepsister into her bedroom.

You didn't end up with choosing anything from her closet, but she picked out an outfit for you. And Sarah had great taste and you didn't complain. She selected a light summer dress for you, fitting for a casual party at the beach. You liked how the fabric felt on your skin and how the cut accented your curves without revealing too much. The skirt was a bit shorter than what you'd usually wore, but it was the middle of summer and you were on the island and not in the city.

When looking at the mirror, you smiled at the young woman smiling at you. You touched the golden necklace you were wearing. A gift from Denny. When he gave it to you the other day, you were surprised. Wasn't it a bit early for such costly gifts? But he insisted on you taking it and he was so happy when he put it around your neck. The pendant was a green stone, it was a bit heavy, but it looked nice. You really appreciated the gesture. And you really appreciated how your boyfriend treated you. He was okay with taking things slow. He never pushed you and in these past weeks, you had never done more than holding hands. You hadn't even kissed again. – Something you wouldn't tell your sister, for a reason you didn't quite know yourself.

You enjoyed yourself a lot at the party. Sarah's friends were easy to get along with, especially JJ. You just met him like an hour ago and he had already made you laugh more than you had in the whole past month or even year. But talking with Pope was also nice, he knew a lot and you liked listening to him. You also liked watching how these two boys got into a playfight about something stupid. You didn't mind that Sarah left you with the pogues as she and John B wanted to spend some time alone.

“Now, c'mon. Dance with me, big-city girl,” JJ pointed at you, then bent his finger to indicate that you should follow him. You laughed and shook your head. He then tried to catch you with an imaginary lasso.

“You’d better go, before he does his full-on cowboy impression, and talking in that accent, and believe me, you don't wanna hear that. No one wants to hear that,” Pope told you, leaning closer to you, and then taking your cup, so you could go and join JJ at the bonfire.

You couldn't deny that the cheap beer you had been drinking had made you a bit tipsy and somehow loosened you up a bit. But mainly, you just felt comfortable in the presence of Sarah's friends that had quickly become your friends too. And you weren't the only ones dancing by the fire. Other people also danced to the music coming from someone's speakers.

JJ took your hand and twirled you around, made an effort at imitating some dance moves that looked very elaborated. It was fun, you felt a permanent grin on your cheeks, glowing with the heat from the nearby fire, the booze and the excitement. You felt free, not thinking about anything at all. Not even thinking about the way you moved, but you just did. You felt the music, felt the joy of being young and careless – and you suddenly felt something hard that you bumped into, while twirling around.

“Sorry,” you muttered and looked up, as two hands grabbed your arms.

And you looked into the angry face of your stepbrother.

You froze, just for a moment. Then you tried to get away, but Rafe only held you closer, like pulling you into a tight embrace, and for an instant you thought that he might want to dance with you. But he didn't.

“Hey!” JJ's voice behind you made your head spin around.

“Let her go!” The blond boy stood a couple of feet away, his hands clenched into fists. His whole body seemed tensed up and he glared at Rafe. JJ looked so different from how he had looked a minute ago. All that carelessness, all his smiles gone.

You felt Rafe tense up too, as his hands tightened their grip around your arms, making you wince in pain.

“JJ,” he said his name through clenched teeth as if it was an insult.

The two boys stared at each other, the tension between them was palpable. People had gathered around them, but you didn't actually take notice of them. You looked at JJ, tried to tell him not to do anything stupid, but his eyes were fixed on Rafe. You looked at Rafe. You gave up freeing yourself from his iron grip.

“Please,” you pleaded, unsure what else to say. Your voice too soft, too weak anyway. You felt cold all of a sudden, and very sober.

And then everything happened just so fast.

JJ must have stepped closer, because the next moment, Rafe pushed you behind his own body as he lunged forward to hit JJ. When he moved his arm back, his elbow hit you at your chin and you, no longer held by him, stumbled and fell to the sandy ground. But neither Rafe nor JJ took notice. When you looked up, you saw them throwing fists at each other. Their bodies colliding, this was another kind of dance. You were shocked to see such fierce violence, both of them seemingly fighting with the intend to end the other.

You were shaking and only now noticed that you had started to cry. You cried and yelled and pleaded them to stop.

Fortunately, some guys stepped in, pulling the fighting boys apart.

Rafe angrily shrugged off the guy who was holding him, while two others held JJ, who fiercely, but in vain fought to free himself.

“Rafe!” You screamed his name, and that made him stop, made him turn his head towards you, still sitting on the ground, tears running down your face.

Rafe's eyes were dark and the look on his face was unlike anything you had ever witnessed. You flinched as he came closer, suddenly so afraid of your own stepbrother. He frowned at your reaction, but proceeded. He grabbed your arm, made you cry out in pain, pulled you to your feet. And when you tried to get away, because every cell in your body told you to run, he caught you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, picking you up like you weighed nothing, held you in both his arms. Your feet kicking the air, your fists trying to hit him, you were screaming, but he easily carried you away. And no one stopped him.

Through teary eyes you saw JJ being held by the two guys while a third one punched his face, and yet he fought, tried to get away, looking at you, looking at Rafe, who carried you away, carried you from the beach to his car.

He opened the door and tossed you onto the passenger seat. You let out a groan, as something hit your back. As soon as Rafe let go off you, you tried to get up, get out, but Rafe pushed you back into the seat.

“Let me go! Just let me go!” Your hands tried to shove him out of the way.

He caught one of your wrists, twisted it in his grip, as he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt.

You whined and gave up fighting as you knew he was too strong and you had no chance against him at all.

“Please just let me go. Why are you like this?” You pleaded between sobs.

“Why am I like this?!” Rafe yelled at you and his hand shot forward to grasp your chin, pressing so hard, you feared he would crush your jaw.

“You acting like a goddamn slut messing around with a fucking pogue!”

You flinched at each word he yelled at you, his face closer and closer. His eyes so wild, his whole expression just fuming with rage, directed at you.

“I did not,” you tried to defend yourself.

“You're a fucking LIAR!”

You flinched, and when you closed your eyes, a stream of tears ran down your cheeks.

“No,” you tried again, but he cut you short.

“You think I'm stupid?” He tilted his head, frowning, his eyes small as he glared at you in disbelief. “You think I don't know what's going on? You fucking that pogue. You’re a whore. Just like Sarah. All my sisters are goddamn sluts fucking those filthy pogues. And what does that make me look like, huh? Thought about that? Thought about what it means for your family? Your free-spirited fucking lifestyle? How does that look on dad, huh? Have you ever thought about anyone but yourself? Ever thought about the consequences of what you're doing?”

You gazed at him, taken aback by his accusations, not understanding what had gotten into him.

His eyes moved down from your face to your chest, which rose and fell under your agitated breathing.

His hand slowly let go of your chin, moved down your neck. You held your breath as you felt the pressure on your throat. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. His hand moved down further, his palm pressing hard onto the necklace’s pendant. You winced as you felt the hard stone digging into your skin.

“My own sister. Dressed like a whore. Fucking a pogue.” His voice was now calmer, darker, and it made you shiver.

“But, Rafe,” you sobbed, your hands tentatively reaching for his arm. “I did not do anything, I swear.”

The back of his hand hit your cheek so hard, your head flew to the side and it hit the headrest of the driver's seat.

You stared at him in shock, eyes widened, lips parted, pressing your hand to your throbbing cheek.

You couldn't believe what just happened.

But instead of apologizing or saying anything that would explain what he just did, Rafe just kept looking at you, his eyes on your trembling body. You noticed only now that your dress had slipped up, revealing a bit of your underwear. You quickly reached down to pull the fabric to cover as much of your legs as possible.

You looked up as you heard him scoff.

Shaking his head, moving his lips as if talking, talking to himself, he pushed himself back from the door, slammed it shut and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.

You shifted as far away from him as you could, pressing your shoulder against the window, but you did not try to get out. You did not try to stop him when he started the engine. You did not yell or scream or rage. You just sat there, quietly sobbing as he drove you back to Tannyhill.

And Rafe didn't say anything, didn't even look at you when he parked the car in the driveway. He didn't look back when he got into the house, just left the front door open after he went inside.

You followed, slowly, your body still shaking with sobs. Your face hurt. The throbbing had become a sharp pain by now.

You got inside the house, it was dark, your parents and your little sister fast asleep.

You waited at the top of the stairs, until you heard the door of Rafe's bedroom shut, then you ran into your own room, locked the door behind you and crawled under the covers of your bed.

You didn't tell anyone what had happened that night with Rafe in the car.

Of course, Sarah knew about the fight between Rafe and JJ, and the day after she asked you, if you were okay. She even asked you if she should come over. But you said, you were okay and she should stay at John B's, you might come over later too. Sarah liked that idea, she was totally excited about it. You were talking over the phone, no video, so you didn't have to fake a smile. But you liked just listening when she talked with you about John B and the pogues. Their treasure hunting, their fishing trips, how she was learning to surf. It was nice to hear that your stepsister was so happy. It made you forget your own situation for a while.

Truth was, you weren't quite sure what that situation was.

The next days you tried your best to avoid your stepbrother, which wasn't too hard. He seemed to be out or asleep most of the time. So you were able to spend some time with Wheezie, preferably outside the house, somewhere you'd know you wouldn't accidentally run into Rafe, like that ice-cream parlor or the waffle house that sold these literally gigantic waffles with pink marshmallows. You even went to the mainland to a funfair with your little stepsister. Wheezie didn't notice the bruises on your face. You did quite a good job covering them up with your make up.

Since your boyfriend was still away with his family, you spent the nights either watching movies with Wheezie, helping her make tiktoks, or just in your room, reading a book.

You closed the book you had been reading for the past hours. Yawning, you looked at your phone. It was almost 3 a.m. You needed to use the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating. Usually you would go down the corridor to get to the bathroom Sarah and Wheezie were sharing. But it was the middle of the night and you didn't want Wheezie to wake up. Besides, Rafe hadn't come home that night, so he wouldn't hear you.

You left your room and went to the bathroom. Pushing open the unlocked door, you stepped inside and froze. The light was on and you should have taken your time and listened when you had been outside. The water of the rain shower was running. And Rafe was standing under the shower. His back to you. The water raining down on his body, his naked body. The open shower offered you a complete view. His hair was wet, sticking to his head. Drops of water gracing his broad shoulders. Trails of water running down his back, accentuating the contours of his well-defined muscles. Water running down his lower back, over the curves of his butt, down his legs. He shifted slightly, his legs parting just a bit. Your eyes darted up, and you saw how he turned his head, turned it towards you. And looked at you. Water drops caught in his lashes, as he gazed at you. And his body moved and he was about to turn around completely, when you finally woke up from your frozen state and swiftly turned around and left the bathroom as fast as you could.

When you were inside your room, you were shaking. Your back pressed against the back of your door. You were panting, so loudly, it was embarrassing. You covered your mouth with both your hands. Your legs felt weak, like they would give in, but at the same time you felt something else, a very different, very unknown sensation. Something that had started as a tickling sensation and was now a throbbing, between your legs. You pressed them as closely together as you could. But it wouldn't stop. All your previous sleepiness gone, it seemed like all your senses were fully awake and heightened.

You heard a door open and close. You tried to focus and listen, between the sounds of your own rapid heartbeat. You heard footsteps on the corridor. Slow and heavy. They came closer and stopped. In front of your door. Right behind you. You pressed the palm of one of your hands against the wood. And you stopped breathing. Your mind racing. Trying to remember if you had locked your door.

It was still, completely still apart from your own heavy breathing, muffled by your own hand.

Then you heard footsteps again and another door, open and close.

And you still couldn't move.

When you finally made it to your bed, after checking if you indeed had locked your door, you didn't find real sleep for the rest of the night. Again and again you woke up, hearing the dripping sound of water or raspy breathing close to your ear.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you opened your eyes next, the sun was shining right into your face and it was almost noon. You groaned as you turned in your bed. It was unusual for you to get up this late. You got dressed, wearing a sweater and your jeans shorts. It was most probably too hot outside for wearing a sweater, but with the air conditioning working, it was a bit chilly inside.

You went to the kitchen to get some coffee and something to eat to finally start the day. On your way downstairs, you heard Wheezie's and your mother's voice from another room. You figured that at this time of the day, the kitchen would be empty. Except it wasn't.

You stopped in the doorway when you saw Rafe. His back turned towards you, wearing a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants, Rafe was standing at the coffeemaker.

Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, which he must have heard, because his head turned around. His eyes met yours. Just for a brief moment, then he turned his attention back to the machine in front of him. He didn't say anything, but you could have sworn that you saw a tiny smirk curling up the corners of his lips.

You took a deep breath. Something inside you told you to just go and run upstairs, lock yourself in your room. But your feet started moving and you walked to the fridge. It didn't seem as if Rafe even cared that you were in the same room with him. So you supposed that he had resumed his usual stance of just ignoring you. Besides, you still heard your sister's voice from the living room close by. Even Rafe wouldn't dare to do anything with his family, with his little sister so close by.

You went about grabbing something to eat and making yourself a coffee, while Rafe was doing the same quietly. You didn't look at him, just heard him move about and saw his frame from the corner of your eyes.

Your hands rested on the edge of the counter, fingers curling, your weight shifted to one foot, the other foot rubbed over your calf, feeling the warm woolen fabric of the sock, you were deeply in thought, while waiting for the coffeemaker to finish the program for your cappuccino.

“You're done with the staring?”

That dark voice directly behind you made you flinch and you lost your balance, tipping to the side, you almost fell – if it hadn't been for a strong hand catching you. And even when you were standing securely on both feet again, that hand didn't let go off your waist.

You felt your chest widen with the deep breath you took.

Rafe's body was so close to yours, you could feel the heat radiating from it. You could feel his muscles move as he leaned down to you, his chest pressing against your back.

“So, did you like what you saw? Last night? You left in such a rush. What were you doing in your room? Lying in your bed, thinking about my cock, touching yourself?” His lips grazed your ear as he whispered those words that made you involuntarily shiver, despite the heat you felt under your sweater.

You turned your head to look at him, when you felt something poking at your back.

Your lips parted and you felt them quiver as his face moved closer. His breath caressing your face, his eyes holding yours as his lips hovered over your mouth. Your breathing hitched as you felt his other hand move up to reach for your face.

“Finally you're up!” Wheezie's voice made you gasp. You felt pure heat rushing to your head.

Rafe’s hand – a second ago almost brushing your cheekbone – reached up to the cupboard above your head, taking out a glass. He walked to the fridge to take out the orange juice and pour some into the glass.

You grabbed the mug from under the coffeemaker, turned around and lifted it to your lips even though the contents were still too hot to drink. Your sleeves covered your wrists and you held the mug with both your hands, holding onto it like a lifeline. You nodded at Wheezie and tried to offer her a smile while your whole body was trembling.

Rafe had downed the orange juice and was pouring himself another glass, when Wheezie came over, snatched that newly filled glass from his hands and turned towards you while taking a sip.

“I needed your help with that tiktok,” she said and her accusing tone made you feel guilty, even though you couldn't remember having promised her to help her.

“I'm sorry,” you muttered. “We can do it now?” You offered.

Wheezie exhaled dramatically.

“Now is too late. We're about to leave.” Wheezie looked at you with her dark eyes, pouting. “But you could come and we can make it on the ferry,” she asked sweetly all of a sudden and took another sip from the orange juice.

Rafe, obviously having decided that he was still thirsty, had stepped closer and took out another glass from the kitchen cupboard above your head. His arm brushing your hair as he did so. And you felt goosebumps crawling over your skin, spreading on your neck.

Your eyes darted up and you noticed that Rafe's eyes traveled to your neck, and that look felt more intense than any touch and caused another shiver.

“You cold? Are you sick? Is that why you slept in?” Wheezie sounded seriously concerned now.

That shiver must have been visible. You cursed your own body for reacting so intensely and so weirdly to your stepbrother's presence.

“No, no, don't worry, Wheezie. I'm fine. I just spent the whole night reading.”

You heard a scoff coming from Rafe, but didn't look.

“Oh, that book with the dragons? You need to tell me all about it!”

“I will,” you smiled, and it was a real smile. You loved your little sister's enthusiasm.

“But not today. Denny is coming back from his family trip and we're meeting this afternoon.”

Wheezie's lips formed a disappointed ‘O', but then she nodded and took more sips from her glass.

“You're spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” Ward had entered the kitchen, and he offered you a warm smile. “You should invite him over for dinner, so we can officially meet.”

“Oh, my god, dad. You sound like a total patriarch,” Wheezie rolled her eyes.

“I do? Now the patriarch tells you to get in the car, Wheezie, we're already late,” Ward tilted his head and looked at his youngest daughter with warmth in his eyes.

Wheezie rolled her eyes again, muttered an annoyed “Fine,” put her glass down on the counter next to you, hugged you as if she was about to leave for months. When she let go, she turned towards her brother standing by the fridge.

“Bye, Rafe. Thanks for the juice,” she said, twirled around and literally danced out of the kitchen, as Rafe mumbled his reply.

You noticed how his stance had changed completely, his shoulders were drawn up, he was looking down. He seemed more tense ever since his father had come into the kitchen.

“If you don't find it too patriarchy of me, I’d like to get to know the boy that my daughter spends so much time with.”

“No, of course, that would be nice. I’ll ask him,” you quickly replied and smiled at your stepfather. You couldn't deny it, it always made you feel sort of happy when Ward casually called you his daughter, making no difference between you and his biological daughters.

“Now that's settled then,” he said. “Enjoy your date.”

“Thanks,” you took a sip from your cappuccino, which was now cool enough to drink.

Ward gave you another smile, before turning his attention toward his son.

“I asked you to drop off the crates at the site by 2.”

“I – I will. I'm on it,” Rafe gazed at his father who frowned at him.

“That's what you always say.”

“But I will.”

“It's a simple task, Rafe. If you can't even do that –“

“No, I said I will!” Rafe straightened up, took a step closer to his father, his body tensing up, you noticed.

“Honey? We need to get going,” your mother looked through the kitchen door.

“You have a nice day with Denny, sweetheart,” she addressed you, before just frowning at Rafe and leaving.

Before Ward also left, he smiled at you again – this time, the smile was a bit strained, you noticed.

He shot a less than friendly look at his son.

“For a change, just don't disappoint me again.”

When your parents had left, you remained in the kitchen and there was a strange silence.

You looked at Rafe, he was biting his nails.

“You okay?” Your voice soft, full of real concern.

He turned his face towards you, glared at you.

“Shut up!” You flinched as he yelled at you and then stormed out of the kitchen.

You let out a shaky breath after he had left. You weren't hungry anymore, so you just emptied the remains of your cappuccino into the sink and went upstairs.

Wrapped in a towel after taking a long hot shower in your sisters' bathroom, you returned to your room, only to find Rafe standing at your bed, looking at the clothes you had picked out to wear.

He held up the top you had put on the bed.

“You gonna wear that to your date?” He tilted his head, looking at you, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“Give that back,” you tried to snatch it from his hand, but Rafe's reflexes were better and he held it up, out of reach. Still you tried to get a hold of it, reaching up with one arm, while you held the towel close to your chest with your other hand, feeling it loosen from the quick movement.

Rafe looked down at you, just with his eyes, and there was a glint in them, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk.

You frowned and held both your arms now in front of your chest, clutching the towel.

The tip of his tongue flicked out and wetted his lips. As if it was some reflex, you bit your own lips, and he chuckled in response. You only now realized that his body was so close to yours that you felt that vibration in your own body.

“You want to seduce him? Want him to fuck you?”

“Why are you so –” You looked up at his face and tried to step back when you felt the edge of the bed hitting the back of your legs and stopping your movement.

“So what?” He bowed his head down and his piercing blue eyes stared at you.

“Mean,” you said.

“You like it, don't you?” He tilted his head to the side and that grin on his lips changed.

“No,” you said quickly and as firmly as you managed to.

“No what?” He mocked you.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. Still holding the towel with both hands, you tried to push at his chest with your elbow to get some distance between you two.

“I like you better when you're not mean,” you said, no longer looking up, but your eyes on his chest that you were trying to push away.

“That so?” His voice was lower than before and you lifted your gaze to see his eyebrows raised. “Like when?”

“Like when you were nice.”

"What is nice, hm?”

You felt a heat crawling under your skin and lowered your gaze.

His fingers under your chin tilted up your head, made you look at him again. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip.

“This nice?” His voice a raspy whisper.

The sudden softness of his touch made you shiver.

Your lips parted and you drew in a sharp breath as he leaned down.

“This?” His voice so low, you could hardly hear it, but feel it so intensely, as his lips moved close to yours. And you could taste his breath, taste the coffee and the orange juice and him.

You held your breath and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth. You closed your eyes. Exhaling through your mouth, you felt that trembling growing. Your legs suddenly unsteady. But you didn't fall. His arm wrapped around you and held you close to his body as he slowly lowered you on the bed.

His lips were so incredibly soft as they covered your face with tender kisses. His body was hovering over yours as you lay on your back. You felt its warmth, but not its weight.

His hand touched your face, his long fingers caressed your neck, brushed over your shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your heated skin. His mouth traveled over your cheekbone to your ear. His breath made you gasp and whimper as the tip of his nose touched that spot you didn't know was so sensitive. Slowly and without any resistance from you, he uncurled your fingers that were wrapped around the towel. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder, and your fingers, like they had their own will, grasped at it, held onto him, as your body arched and a moan escaped your lips when his mouth found the sensitive skin on your neck. His big hand cupped your now exposed breast, kneading it, fumbling it, no longer touching softly. His knee pushed between your legs, parting them. And you felt the pressure at your core as your hips rose to meet him.

Your breathing, slow and loud, was all that could be heard in the room. And then the soft sucking sounds of his lips on your neck, leaving a mark.

Both your hands were on him now. The one hand at his shoulder, grabbing so hard, it was shaking. Your other hand touching his back. The lightest pull from you and he rocked his hips against yours, making you gasp and open your eyes in surprise as you felt his hard length urging against your thigh. Being completely inexperienced, you couldn't quite judge whether it was normal that it was so huge. And your mind was cloudy with all those unknown sensations that you were unable to tell whether this was right when you felt his fingers rub along your folds, when they parted them and pushed inside you.

You tensed up, cried out, as you clenched around the intruding digit. Your hands no longer pulling Rafe closer but trying to push him up, like pushing at an unmovable rock.

You whined as his finger pushed deeper, your face turning to the side, away from him as a tear ran down your cheek. He let out a hissing sound, his mouth close to your neck. His finger remained inside of you but stopped moving further. You already felt so incredibly full. His lips started moving over your skin. He kissed your chin, kissed your cheek, licked at your tears.

“No,” your voice a hoarse whisper, your hand balled into a fist, pressing at his shoulder uselessly, in vain trying to push him off you.

“No,” you said again and that word turned into a moan as you felt something pressing against your most sensitive spot. His thumb rubbed your pearl and your traitorous body reacted by shivering. And your legs parted further. He moved them up, made them bent, giving him room. His finger curled inside you. Your body convulsed. You opened your eyes, but you couldn't see anything clear. You felt your body heating up, sweat covering it. Your hands clutching at Rafe's shirt as you made those noises that didn't sound like coming from you. But they came from you. From something deep inside you. Something Rafe had just started to awake. You bit your lips to make those sounds stop as you felt that throbbing at your core with Rafe's fingers caressing, pushing, rubbing, pinching, curling, thrusting.

His other hand gripped your chin, turned your head and you looked up at him, just for a second, before his lips met yours and he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one you remembered from all those years ago, that tender kiss. This kiss was hungry and fierce, and intoxicating. Your mouth opened for his tongue. He claimed it. And when it pushed inside you, it felt like it was your own hunger. You felt like you were starving as he was devouring you.

Wide-eyed, your face burning with heat, your body aching with an unknown need, you gazed up at him when he broke the kiss, lifting his body, no longer touching you. But you still felt him, felt him on you, felt him inside of you, tasted him in your mouth. He had let go off you for a moment to take off his shirt and his sweatpants.

He was completely naked when he hovered above you, resting on his hands pressed into mattress on either side of you. The muscles in his arms tense and hard. Everything about him was hard. Solid like a rock. He was kneeling between your legs. Your body shaking, shivering as if you were cold when you felt that sweat covering it and that wetness between your legs. You were so much the opposite of him, in every way. You felt it so much at that moment when he just looked down at you. Something in his eyes so harsh that it made you shudder and close your eyes. You shook your head and stopped when his hand touched your face and held it. You opened your eyes. His face only inches away from yours.

“I'm gonna be gentle, alright? I'm gonna be nice.” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss and your body arched up, despite your hands being balled up into fists and your arms pressed close to your chest as if you were trying to shield yourself.

You felt a movement, felt the bed tilt. And when you opened your eyes, you saw him kneeling in front of you, touching his hard cock, pumping it.

You gasped at the sight. It was even bigger than you had thought from what you had felt earlier. It was too big.

“Just the tip, alright? I won't push it all in. I know you're too delicate,” he said as if he had read your mind – or just saw the fear in your eyes.

He leaned down to kiss you and whisper at your lips.

“Just the tip, I promise. You will like it.”

As if proving his point, your hips moved up on their own and a hot shiver made you moan as his fingers touched your needy core. A smile appeared on his face, not quite a smirk, but you weren't sure anymore what you saw, what you felt, what you wanted. All reason was clouded and still, you knew that this was wrong.

You closed your eyes as he lifted one of your legs.

“Look at me,” his voice dark and so low, you felt a tingling at the back of your neck.

You obeyed and opened your eyes. Your arms were still pressed against your heaving chest, but it was easy for him to move them and place your hands on his shoulders as he lowered himself onto you.

“Look at me,” he said again and your eyes were fixed on his face, watching his features, seeing that little smile, that glint in his eyes, seeing his mouth open, and his face contort the moment his tip parted your folds. At first it felt slick and smooth and then suddenly so painfully rough. The thick tip was stretching you unbearably wide. Your legs automatically pressed against his body, desperately trying to close and shut out the intruder. He pushed them apart and you screamed, screamed out loud at the top of your lungs as he pushed inside you. Too deep, too hard, too rough, too fast.

Waves and waves of stinging pain rushing threw your body, making it convulse and shake, making you whimper and whine, you felt like you were being torn apart. You pushed at his shoulders, pressed at his chest, but his hips kept moving, rocking hard against you. Urging his hard length into you.

“So good,” he muttered between strained breaths. “So tight,” he panted. “All mine,” he growled.

His movements so rough and relentless, he seemed lost in his own pleasure. His eyes fixed on you, but not really seeing you, he seemed like he had forgotten all about you, your part in this, your existence.

“Rafe!” You screamed his name, screamed it at his face, screamed it so loud, your throat hurt.

His eyes flickered and he looked at you, really looked at you. And something changed in his features. For the briefest of moments, he paused, leaned down to kiss your lips, whispering something you didn't understand. And then you felt his fingertip touching that spot his thumb had teased before. Only now it wasn't teasing any longer. You didn't know how or why he knew exactly what to do, but that touch, that movement with his fingertip was all your body needed, all it craved for that moment. Your mouth opened wide as you moaned, then just gasped. The back of your head pressing into the mattress, your eyes rolling back. Your fingernails digging into Rafe's tense muscles at his back, as you were pulling him closer, ever closer, when that pain all of a sudden turned into pleasure, a painful, hot pleasure that left you in a state of rapture. Your body bending, trembling, shaking, as Rafe fucked you through your first ever orgasm.

You heard him groan, an animalistic sound. You felt your walls tensing up in waves and clenching so hard around him, making his thrusts only more ruthless, more forceful, as he took you, took all of you. And as the rush of your fierce high faded, you felt him so intensely. Felt him pushing inside you, filling you, feeling you, breathing on you, touching you, holding you, kissing you – it was like he was melting into you, when all of a sudden he stopped his movements, gazed down at you with hazy eyes, his features tensing up for a moment, and the next, the absolute opposite: all soft and lovingly, so sweet. He lowered his body onto yours and you felt his heavy panting syncing with yours. He kissed your face, breathless. Kissed your lips and after pushing into you a few more times, he pulled out and rolled his body off yours.

You kept lying on your back, next to him. Your legs still apart, knees bent. And you felt the cool breeze from the air-conditioning on your heated body, covered in a film of sweat, yours and his. And between your legs, you felt another kind of throbbing. And something sticky dripping out of you. You shut your legs and winced, rolling on your side, you turned away from him. It was as if reality hit you hard, and despite the fact that you still hadn't composed your breathing, despite the fact that your body wanted to remain in that blissful state, you felt a sudden wave of shame and guilt and something else that hurt even more, even deeper than the burning pain at your core.

At the touch of his hand, you flinched. You didn't want to, but your body curled up and you moved away from him, when in fact, you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, to tell you that it was alright. That everything was exactly how it should be. That you were safe. With him.

Instead, you felt the bed tilt and you heard him get up and put on his clothes.

You moved your head so you could look up at him, look at him through teary eyes.

He stood in front of the bed, looking down at you. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to lie down again. Then his features hardened. A frown appeared on his brow. His hands balled into fists, his jaws clenched.

“Now you can lie about that too. When your boyfriend fucks you tonight, you can lie and say it is you first time.” His voice so cold, so hard, it took the air out of your lungs.

And you only exhaled when he had left your room and the door shut behind him and you cried and sobbed and wept.

a/n: this was kinda intense. Much darker than my recent fics. And so long. But I didn't want to rush it. I needed to write it as it is. I still hope you liked reading it. Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated. btw, it's my birthday today.

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