#and the rest of the cast had that much time to just hang out and get closer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

psformybss · 30 days ago

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You Said You Loved Me

drew starkey x costar!secretgf!reader

warnings: emotional whiplash, betrayal, heartbreak, mental health themes, self-harm mention, panic attack, regret, heavy emotions

a/n: tumblr isn’t letting me answer the request like usual but here is this one requested by @kieeslove . this is one is probably one of the most heartbreaking one-shots i’ve written to be honest but i love how it ended up coming out. please please please read the warnings before reading it.

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet.

You’ve had the whole day to yourself—no call time, no script changes, no wardrobe fittings. Just a long, open stretch of silence that you’d usually welcome.

But today, it’s been anything but peaceful.

You’ve barely moved from the couch since noon, wrapped in the hoodie Drew left on the kitchen chair last night, half-watching a show you’ve seen before just to fill the space. Your phone rests in your lap, screen dim, but your mind hasn’t stopped racing for hours.

You saw it this morning.

The story.

Odessa’s.

It popped up right after breakfast, when you were still groggy, sipping coffee on the balcony. You tapped through mindlessly until you froze on a video—shaky, close-up, her voice giggling behind the camera.

Drew.

He was leaning against a trailer, smiling—no, laughing. That wide, rare kind of laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes. She flipped the camera back to herself, grinning like it was an inside joke between just the two of them.

And maybe it was.

The next slide was a photo. A candid. He had his head thrown back, laughing at something you couldn’t hear, while she stood beside him with only half her face in the frame.

But it was enough.

Enough to make your stomach twist.

Enough to make you stare too long at the caption.

“Set life with this goof 🤍”

The cast knows about you and Drew. Everyone on set does. You’ve stopped pretending around them—stopped hiding the way you slip into his trailer during breaks, how he kisses your temple when he thinks no one’s looking.

But outside of that circle, no one knows. No Instagram posts. No red carpets. Not even soft launches in the comments section.

And you understood why at first.

Keeping it private felt safer. Cleaner. Something just for you two.

Until moments like this.

Moments where he looks like someone else’s.

You scroll back through the texts—between you and Drew, between you and Odessa.

There’s nothing wrong, not really. But there’s a shift. A subtle unraveling.

He doesn’t say “I love you” before bed anymore. Doesn’t kiss your forehead when he leaves for work.

And Odessa—your best friend, the person who once felt like your other half—she’s been on set more and more. Not because she has to be. Just because.

You used to think she came to see you. To hang out between scenes, raid craft services, sit on your trailer floor and gossip about everything and nothing.

But lately, it feels like she’s there for him.

You told yourself not to overthink it. Not to read too much into the way her hand lingers on his arm when she laughs, or the way he seems more awake when she’s around.

But today, alone with your thoughts and too much time, the pit in your stomach hasn’t let up.

You pick up your phone again and scroll to your thread with Odessa.

No new messages.

She didn’t text you today.

Not after she posted those stories. Not after she spent half the afternoon on the same set your boyfriend was working on.

You’d texted her earlier—just a casual “You on set today?”—but it’s still sitting there, unanswered.

You switch to Drew’s messages.

You (9:42am): Miss you today. Hope the scene went okay.

You (12:16pm): Odessa still there?

You (3:03pm): Are you home late tonight?

All read. None replied to.

The front door opens at 1:14 a.m.

You don’t even flinch anymore. You just pull the hoodie tighter around you and pretend the tightness in your chest isn’t there.

Drew walks in with slow, tired steps, jacket slung over his arm, hair tousled from a long shoot.

You look up at him, soft but cautious. “Hey.”

He pauses at the doorway to the kitchen. “Hey. You’re up?”

“Didn’t have any scenes today,” you say, voice quieter than you mean. “Just stayed home.”

He nods, distracted. Opens the fridge. Grabs a bottle of water. Doesn’t ask about your day.

He scrolls his phone, thumbs moving quickly.

“Long shoot?” you ask after a moment.

“Yeah,�� he says, cracking open the bottle. “Ran over like an hour. Just wrapped a little while ago.”

You hesitate. “Was Odessa still there?”

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “For a bit. She left before we wrapped.”

Another beat of silence.

You want to say more. You want to ask why she’s always there lately, or why he hasn’t said I love you in four nights straight.

But your throat closes around the words, like saying them out loud would make it worse.

Drew glances at you again. “I’m gonna crash. Early call.”

You nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He disappears down the hall. No kiss. No touch.

And again—no I love you.

You stare at your phone until the screen fades.

Open Odessa’s story one more time.

Watch the way he laughs like he’s weightless. The way she looks at him like she knows something you don’t.

They don’t look like they’re hiding anything.

But you feel like you’re the only one being kept in the dark.

You wake up to an empty apartment again. Drew left early for set, just like he said, but something’s different today. You didn’t have to film any scenes today either, so you stayed home, hoping maybe things would feel normal again. Maybe Drew would come back and the silence wouldn’t stretch so thin between you two.

But that’s not how it goes anymore.

You scroll through your phone, trying to shake the heaviness. You glance at your messages—nothing new from Drew, just the usual short replies.

Your eyes flick to Odessa’s name, the friend you’ve known for years—the one who always seemed like your sister, the person who knew you better than anyone. But lately, even she’s become distant.

You tap her name and open your texts.

“Can’t wait to hang out tomorrow! Dinner and drinks like old times?” you typed a few days ago. No reply. Just like the other texts since then.

The next morning, you woke to a curt text from Odessa: “Had to fly back to LA today. Sorry, last minute. Hope you understand.”

No call. Just a text.

Your stomach dropped. You’d been looking forward to that night all week, but now it was gone—just like her.

You tried not to overthink it, telling yourself she was busy.

She returned, just a few days later but didn’t tell you. You found out the worst way possible.

You were walking past the trailers on set when you saw them.

Drew and Odessa.

Laughing together.

Close.

Too close.

The easy way they leaned into each other—like you used to, all three of you—felt like a punch to the gut.

You stopped, heart hammering in your chest.

They looked up and caught your eyes. Drew smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Odessa’s grin faltered for a moment before she turned back to him.

Your throat tightened.

You blinked, trying to tell yourself you were imagining things. Maybe they were just friends. Maybe you were just overthinking.

But deep down, the pit in your stomach grew.

The distance between you and Drew had been growing too. More than growing—it had widened into a chasm you didn’t know how to cross.

Your conversations were clipped, like you were just two roommates trying to coexist rather than the couple you once were.

You found yourself wondering if maybe you were the problem.

Maybe I’m too much.

Maybe I’m not enough.

You replayed every conversation, every look, every silence between you two.

The way Drew would zone out when you talked about your day.

The way he spent more and more time texting someone you couldn’t see.

The way Odessa—your best friend—pulled away too, her responses short and distracted whenever you tried to ask if she was okay.

One afternoon, you caught her alone near the trailers.

“Hey, you’ve seemed… different lately. Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle.

She glanced up at you, eyes guarded.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she said, but you knew better.

She was closing off, just like Drew.

You wanted to reach through the walls that were building around her, but you didn’t know how.

The days blur together, each one heavier than the last.

You watch the calendar pages turn—slow and unforgiving—but the distance between you and Drew feels like it’s growing faster by the day.

He’s quieter. More distracted. Even when he’s in the room with you, it’s like you’re separate islands sharing the same space.

It’s been over a week since he kissed you.

Not a single brush of lips, not even a quick peck in passing.

You catch yourself waiting, holding your breath for the moment it will happen. But it never does.

You try to convince yourself it’s just stress. Long shoots. Exhaustion.

But when the lights go out and the apartment is still, the silence screams louder than any excuse.

One night, you find yourself standing in the bathroom, warm water streaming over your face, blurring your vision.

You don’t want him to hear the quietness of your tears—so you let them fall only in the shower, behind the locked door.

The water carries the ache away for a little while.

Later, when Drew leaves for set—his phone forgotten on the kitchen counter, screen unlocked—you hesitate.

Curiosity gnaws at you.

You pick it up, fingers trembling.

His messages open to a thread with Odessa.

You scroll through, the words soft but sharp:

“Missed you today.”

“Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

There’s nothing explicit. No promises or declarations.

Just the kind of words that linger in the spaces between.

Your chest tightens.

You close the phone carefully and set it back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you wonder how long this has been going on.

How long you’ve been standing on the outside looking in.

You want to confront him. To demand the truth.

But the words catch in your throat.

The apartment is quiet again.

That terrible, airless quiet that makes you feel like even the walls are watching.

Your phone buzzes.

You almost don’t check. You’ve been trying to be good—trying to stop torturing yourself by scrolling through Instagram, through posts with her name tagged beside his, through photos where his eyes don’t even look like his anymore.

But the name on your screen is one you can’t ignore.

Odessa.

Your pulse jumps. You hesitate. Then you open it.

“I told Drew I’m in love with him. He feels the same. I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The air leaves your lungs in one slow, numb exhale.

You reread it once. Twice. A third time, as if the words might change if you look hard enough.

They don’t.

No emoji. No nervous laughter. No gray area.

Just a quiet confession and a knife between your ribs.

But you don’t cry.

You don’t scream.

You don’t even blink.

You just sit there on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, the message open on your screen, the cursor blinking like it’s daring you to respond.

You don’t.

The front door opens not long after.

You hear it before you see him—his key sliding into the lock, the door creaking open, boots hitting hardwood.

He walks in humming, like he’s had a good day.

Like the world didn’t just drop out from under you.

Then he sees you.

And the humming dies.

“Hey,” Drew says slowly, careful. His voice is soft, uncertain now. “You got her text.”

Your head turns slowly toward him. Your eyes are glassy, unreadable.

So he knows.

Of course he knows.

“She told you she was going to send it?” you ask, voice flat.

He nods once. “She said she felt guilty. She didn’t want to lie anymore.”

You blink. Once. Twice.

“And you let her?”

“I didn’t let her,” he says, stepping closer. “I tried to stop her, but—”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. It sounds like something breaking.

“She said you feel the same.”

Drew hesitates. “That’s not what I—look, it’s not black and white, okay? It’s complicated—”

You stare at him. “Complicated,” you repeat, the word like acid in your mouth.

He moves toward you, crouching beside the couch, reaching for your hand.

You flinch before he can touch you.

He freezes.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he says quietly.

Your hands shake as you stand, your voice rising without warning. “Don’t you dare say that to me.”

His eyes go wide. “I—”

“No.” You cut him off, stepping back. “You don’t get to say you didn’t mean to. You chose this.”

“You think I wanted to hurt you?”

“You did hurt me.”

The fury rises in you like a tide—faster than you can stop it.

“I’ve been here,” you whisper. “Every single day. Loving you. Waiting for you to love me back the way you used to.”

You grab the photo from the coffee table—the one from Paris, the one where you look happiest, safest, most certain of him.

You throw it across the room with every ounce of strength you have.

It hits the wall and shatters, glass and memories scattering across the floor.

He flinches.

“You were supposed to love me,” you say, voice cracking now. “Not her. Me.”

Drew steps forward like he’s trying to fix something already broken. “I do love you—”

“No, you don’t,” you snap. “Not really. Because if you did, this wouldn’t have happened.”

He tries to hug you, arms reaching for you like he still has a right to them.

You let him.

But not out of love.

Out of exhaustion.

His chest presses to yours, and for one brief second you remember the comfort that used to live in that space.

Now it feels foreign.

He murmurs, “We can fix this. Please. I’ll cut things off with her. We can go to therapy or—”

You press your hands to his chest and push him back gently.

“No,” you say. “This isn’t something you fix.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Well, you did.”

You walk to the door. Open it.

His breath catches. “You’re really kicking me out?”

You nod.

“I need space. I need you gone.”

Drew just stands there, stunned.

You look him straight in the eye.

“Come back for your things when I’m not here.”

“Please,” he says again, voice cracking. “Just let me explain—”

“You already did.”

And then you close the door.

Not hard.

Just enough to say this is final.

The click of the lock is the only sound in the apartment now.

The kind of silence that feels like grief.

Weeks pass.

The days don’t feel like days anymore.

Just hours strung together like dim beads on a thread you didn’t ask to hold.

You’re back on set.

Back in makeup chairs and wardrobe trailers. Back in long shooting days and artificial sunsets. Back in scenes where you’re supposed to smile, touch, kiss. Where you’re supposed to cry in the rain, shout until your throat is raw, crumble in someone else’s arms like your heart is breaking.

Pretend.

You move through it all like a ghost.

Quiet. Efficient. Detached.

You say your lines. You hit your marks. You laugh when the script says you’re supposed to. You kiss him when the camera rolls. You sob against his chest on cue, let your voice crack in that way the director loves. You even slap him in one scene—your eyes glassy, your voice trembling as you yell through clenched teeth.

But nothing touches you.

Not really.

You feel like someone’s removed your insides and left only the outline of you behind. Something hollowed out and left on autopilot.

Between takes, you sit by yourself.

No music in your headphones. No books cracked open. Just silence, staring at nothing, like you’re afraid to fill the space with anything real.

You used to light up on set. You used to steal the crew’s snacks, laugh between takes, tease Drew when he flubbed his lines. There was always an energy around you—light, warm, full of spark.

Now, the spark is gone.

And everyone feels it.

They don’t say anything, not directly. But you can feel the stares. The too-gentle hellos. The quiet way people check on you like they’re afraid you might shatter if they speak too loud.

Even Drew notices.

Especially Drew.

You don’t look at him unless the scene requires it.

You don’t answer when he says your name off camera.

You don’t sit near him at lunch, don’t meet his eyes when the director gives you blocking notes, don’t flinch when you’re told you’ll be filming another kiss today.

You just nod.

And do it.

Like it doesn’t hurt.

Like it doesn’t kill you every time his hands touch your waist, every time he looks at you like he remembers what it used to feel like to be loved by you.

The worst part is—he still looks at you like he’s in love.

Like he’s sorry.

But sorry doesn’t undo the wreckage.

You’ve already learned how to carry the debris.

Today, there’s a scene. You’re arguing. The kind that gets rewritten the night before for “heightened emotional stakes.” You scream at him, tears in your eyes, spit flying as you shove him in the chest. Your voice breaks in all the right places. The crew holds their breath.

"Cut."

You step back. Wipe your face. The tears vanish as fast as they came.

You turn away from him without a glance, your expression flat. Cold.

Drew just stands there, stunned. Still catching his breath from a fight that wasn’t real—at least not on paper. Still staring at you like he’s waiting for something soft to return to your face.

But your face is steel now.

Sharp angles. No trace of the vulnerability from a moment ago. Just rage simmering under the surface, quiet and controlled and utterly unreachable.

Like flipping a switch.

And that’s what terrifies him.

The way you can drop the emotion like it never existed. Like he doesn’t exist.

Between takes, you walk off set. You need air. Space. Anything that doesn’t feel like recycled heartbreak.

You step out behind the trailers, where no one’s watching.

Your hands tremble as you pull a cigarette from your jacket pocket. You haven’t smoked since college, since a messy breakup you thought nothing would ever top.

Funny.

You light it with shaking fingers, inhale, exhale, trying to find some kind of calm in the burn.

You don’t hear Rudy approach.

But you feel him.

He walks up slowly, hands in his pockets, eyes kind.

Without a word, he reaches out and gently takes the cigarette from your fingers.

You don’t fight him.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You glance at him, just barely. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

It’s the kind of question that should come with a dozen follow-ups. But he doesn’t push. Just asks it like he’ll believe whatever answer you give him.

You nod once. “Yeah.”

It’s a lie.

He knows it’s a lie.

But he lets you have it anyway.

Rudy looks at you for a long moment before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

Then he slings an arm loosely around your shoulders.

You don’t lean into it. But you don’t pull away, either.

You just stand there.

Side by side.

Quiet.

Because some silences don’t beg to be filled.

Some are just there to be witnessed.

The moon is a sliver above the water—ghostly and thin, like it’s watching but too tired to shine.

Drew finds you sitting at the edge of the dock, legs drawn up, arms locked around your knees like if you let go, you’d come apart completely.

You haven’t moved in what feels like hours.

He stands behind you for a while, saying nothing. Just… watching.

You look so still.

Too still.

So he steps forward, wood groaning beneath his weight, careful not to scare you. Not that you react. Not even a glance. Your eyes are locked on the black water, the surface rippling quietly like it’s holding your secrets.

He settles beside you, close but not touching. The wind brushes through your hair.

For a moment, all he hears is the hush of the waves and the far-off echo of laughter from the house.

He thinks maybe you’re calm.

Then he hears it.

That faint, stuttering breath. The wet sound of someone trying not to fall apart.

He turns to look at you—and sees it.

Your shoulders trembling.

Your jaw clenched so tight it’s trembling.

The soft, broken sound clawing from your throat as your lungs fail you.

You’re crying.

But it’s not just crying.

It’s a full-body unraveling.

He shifts closer, alarm rising in his chest. “Hey. Hey, breathe. Look at me.”

You don’t.

Your body hunches in tighter, shoulders shaking harder as your breath gets faster, shallower—like you’re trapped under something heavy.

“Breathe with me, okay?” Drew tries again, voice soft. “Just… follow me.”

He reaches out carefully, fingers brushing your wrist to anchor you, like he used to do back when things were simpler—back when that touch meant safety.

But this time, the contact makes you flinch.

And still, his hand closes gently around your wrist—and that’s when he feels it.

His fingers still.

Then tighten—just slightly.

Because he knows what he’s touching.

Scars.

Fresh ones.

Fainter than they used to be, maybe. But new. Raw.

His entire body goes cold.

“Please…” His voice breaks, a whisper edged in panic. “Please tell me those are old.”

Your head snaps toward him.

Your eyes—red, wide, furious—are like a slap.

You rip your arm from his grip and clutch it against your chest like a secret.

“I told you I wasn’t doing that anymore,” you snap, voice cracking. “I told you I was okay.”

“I thought you were,” he says, stunned. “You promised—”

“You think I wanted to start again?” you explode. “You think I wanted to go back to that?”

Your voice is all rage and ache and grief. “Do you know what it’s like? To sit in a bathroom with a towel under you and a razor in your hand, and you’re shaking so bad you can’t tell if you want to die or just want it to stop?”

He’s silent.

Paralyzed.

“I stopped for you,” you say, trembling. “I stopped because you made me feel like I was enough.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “But then you weren’t mine anymore. You were hers. And I couldn’t breathe, Drew. I couldn’t fucking breathe.”

You stand up so fast he can barely react.

You stumble backward a few steps, chest heaving, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield.

“If you were just gonna fall in love with my best friend…” Your voice cracks. “Then you shouldn’t have asked me to be your fucking girlfriend.”

He rises slowly, hands out like he’s approaching a wounded animal.

“I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“But you did!” you scream, backing away. “You knew how fragile I was. You knew. I told you everything. I told you what it felt like to want to hurt myself. I told you what it cost to survive it.”

Tears streak your face, wild and fast.

“And you still chose her.”

He tries to reach for you. “Please—just talk to me.”

You shove his chest with both hands. Hard. Then again. And again.

“You were supposed to love me.”

He doesn’t stop you. He just stands there and takes it.

“You were supposed to be different,” you cry. “I trusted you with everything. I gave you every broken piece and you just—God—Drew, you left me there.”

More footsteps. Fast ones. The house has gone silent behind you, but now someone’s running.

Rudy reaches you just as you collapse forward.

He catches you in his arms, sinking with you to the dock.

Your body shakes with silent sobs, all strength gone, all resistance dissolved.

Madelyn grabs Drew, her expression unreadable—fear and fury clashing behind her eyes.

She pulls him back, away from you, away from the collapse.

“What happened?” she hisses, voice low and sharp.

But Drew can’t answer.

He’s crying too.

Watching the way Rudy holds you like something sacred and shattered.

Your voice, small and hoarse, cuts through the stillness.

“I really loved you,” you whisper, like you’re trying to remind yourself it mattered. “I really did.”

Rudy closes his eyes, jaw tight, hugging you closer.

“And I tried,” you say, your breath hitching again. “I really tried not to hurt myself. I really did.”

The only sound left is your broken breathing and the water moving beneath the dock.

No one knows what to say.

No one knows if anything would help.

And Drew—

He kneels in the shadows, hands shaking, the words I’m sorry caught somewhere between his heart and throat, knowing they’ll never be enough.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

The room is cold. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale shadows across the long table that stretches between you and the others.

You sit at one end, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the wood, knuckles blanching with pressure.

Across from you, the cast shifts uncomfortably in their seats—Jonas standing at the head of the table, his hands resting on its surface like an anchor, eyes serious and tired.

Drew sits near the middle, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed on the scuffs in the floor.

The silence hangs like a storm about to break, thick and unyielding.

Jonas clears his throat.

“We can’t keep filming like this,” he says, voice low but steady.

“This tension, this… distance. It’s hurting the work. And it’s hurting all of you.”

He looks around the room, then back at you.

“We all want to move forward. But that means you and Drew need to talk. You need to clear this, or at least try.”

Your throat tightens, words lodged in your chest like shards.

You stare down at the table, tracing a scratch in the grain with your finger.

Drew finally speaks, voice hesitant, raw.

“I never meant for things to get this messed up. For me to fall for Odessa.”

He looks up, meeting your eyes briefly.

“I wasn’t trying to use you, YN. I swear. You have to believe me.”

You swallow hard.

Bitter words claw at your throat, but they spill out before you can stop them.

“You promised me everything.”

Your voice breaks, trembling like a frayed wire.

“Paris. A house with a garden.”

“Kids. Marley from the pound.”

You close your eyes and press your palms to the table to stop them from shaking.

A cold certainty wraps around your words, unshakable.

The room is still.

Drew’s shoulders slump, a bitter twist in his chest.

“Do you really think I fell for her just to hurt you?”

His voice breaks like glass, fragile and jagged.

You don’t answer.

You don’t want to.

“You think you’re the only one hurting?”

He shakes his head, voice rising with desperate frustration.

“You think this is easy for me?”

The words are raw, ragged.

You lean forward, voice cutting through the thick silence.

“Easy?” you scoff. “You and Odessa? The perfect little couple who ruined me?”

Jonas steps between you with a steadying hand raised.

“Enough.”

You lift your head slowly, voice low and final.

“I can do the scenes. But Drew stays away from me.”

“Odessa stays away, too. If she ever visits, I don’t want to see her.”

The words fall like a decree, clear and unyielding.

You stand abruptly, the chair scraping hard against the floor.

Your breath catches—sharp and uneven.

The door slams behind you.

Leaving behind only silence and the lingering weight of what’s broken.

Time passes in strange ways after everything breaks.

The apartment is quieter now. Not silent—just… softer. Like everyone’s learned to move around the wound without touching it.

You’ve stopped crying in the bathroom.

You still avoid him on set.

But you’re functioning again.

You wake up with the sun instead of dragging yourself out of bed at noon. You drink water. You make your bed. You sit on the balcony in the mornings with a journal in your lap and your knees curled to your chest, scribbling down thoughts you won’t say out loud.

You don’t live in the old apartment anymore.

You couldn’t. Not after everything.

The quiet was too loud there. The walls still held the shape of him—his coffee mug on the counter, his laugh echoing in the hallway, the soft imprint of a life you built and lost all at once.

So you packed it all up and left. New place. New routine. Smaller, lonelier, but yours.

No ghosts.

Just space to breathe.

Sometimes, you paint again. You drag an old easel out to the balcony and lose yourself in blues and golds and soft, wide brushstrokes. Your fingers end up stained for days.

Sometimes, you laugh.

Mostly with Rudy. He’s your shadow now. Always close. Always watching.

He knows when to joke, when to distract you, when to sit in silence and just breathe beside you.

JD brings you coffee every morning from town, no matter what. It started as a quiet gesture. Now it’s a ritual. He doesn’t say much—but you know it’s his way of reminding you you’re seen. Still wanted. Still here.

The cast has adjusted. They don’t talk about what happened. Not in front of you. Not in front of him.

You and Drew still share scenes. Still work together like professionals.

But off-camera? You orbit each other like broken planets.

Not friends.

Not enemies.

Just… nothing.

And maybe that’s worse.

Drew keeps his distance, like you asked. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t try.

But he watches you when he thinks you won’t notice.

From the far side of the room, across the lawn, just past the camera setup.

Always just out of reach.

You caught him once, lingering in the doorway as you laughed too hard at something Rudy said, your head thrown back, hair messy, eyes brighter than they’d been in weeks.

He didn’t smile.

He just stood there, quiet and still, his expression unreadable.

Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel anything.

Like he wasn’t sure he deserved to.

Some days, you think you might hate him.

Other days, you ache just thinking his name.

But mostly—you’re just tired.

Tired of missing someone who’s still right there.

Tired of feeling haunted by a version of him that doesn’t exist anymore.

And Drew—

He wonders how it got like this.

How a joke at a table, a few lingering glances, a shared hoodie and some stupid, unspoken boundaries turned into something he’d ruin with a single mistake.

How he lost the girl who loved him enough to break for him.

He watches you from afar, regret curling in his chest like smoke.

You’re still beautiful. Still brilliant. Still trying.

But now, when you smile—it’s never at him.

And he doesn’t know if it ever will be again.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey #drew starkey obx #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron #obx #drew starkey outer banks #rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader

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bakuhve · 2 months ago

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royal treatment

leona kingscholar x reader smut

after a hectic week, you’re exhausted and missing your boyfriend. one late night text from him changes everything, and he’s ready to remind you just how much you mean to him, in every way possible.

warnings/tags: NSFW, established relationship, soft dom! leona, praise kink, worship kink, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), spit play, breeding kink, mating press, possessive behavior, aftercare

your shoes scuffed against the dirt trail as you trudged toward ramshackle dorm, each step heavier than the last. the moon hung low and silvery above night raven college, casting eerie shadows over the gnarled trees. it was late, too late for anyone to be wandering the grounds, but this had become your normal.

you sighed, breath visible in the chilly air. this week had been chaos. grim nearly set the alchemy lab on fire, ace and deuce dragged you into another disciplinary hearing, and crowley- bless his useless heart- had unloaded another week’s worth of chores onto your lap with that infuriating “it builds character” grin.

and through all of it you hadn’t seen your boyfriend, leona, once. not really.

a passing glance in the hallway. a gruff text that you didn’t have time to respond to until hours later. you were too busy. too needed. running yourself ragged like some glorified campus babysitter while your boyfriend lounged somewhere in savanaclaw, probably napping under the sun with no idea how badly you missed him.

your hand reached for ramshackle’s rusty doorknob, heart aching for rest- and maybe a bit of affection that hadn’t been possible all week.

that’s when your phone buzzed.

[leona:] Come to Savanaclaw.

no explanation. just a command.

you stood there for a second, half of you wanting to crawl into bed and pass out for the rest of the night, the other half already moving on instinct. you knew that tone- even in writing. he wasn’t just calling you over for company. this was different. he’d been quiet all week, letting you run around campus like a glorified errand girl. he hadn’t complained, hadn’t whined or dragged you away, hadn’t even sent his usual “you’re doing too much” texts.

this was his way of saying he’d had enough.

you didn’t even bother texting back. he wouldn’t need it. he’d know the second you stepped inside.

by the time you slipped through the savanaclaw mirror, your steps quickened. the dorm was dim inside, lit only by a few flickering orange lanterns. most of the students were asleep- except you knew exactly which room wouldn’t be.

you stopped in front of it, taking a deep breath before opening the door. you didn’t knock, you never had to.

inside, the room smelled like sun-warmed sheets, dry grass, and faint traces of something wild and rich and unmistakably leona. he was sprawled on the bed, shirtless, one arm beneath his head, the other resting lazily on his stomach. loose sleep pants clung low to his hips, his tail swaying in a slow and idle rhythm behind him. his eyes were low and heavy-lidded, but there was no teasing smile waiting for you. just a slow, unreadable stare that pinned you in place.

“shut the door.”

his voice was quiet. rough with sleep- or restraint.

you obeyed before you even realized you were moving, with a soft click of the latch echoing the stillness between you.

his piercing eyes stayed on you, unblinking. not predatory- something deeper. like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, standing there at his door in the dead of night with exhaustion hanging off your shoulders.

“c’mere, herbivore.”

you walked to him, slowly. not because you were unsure, but because something about the way he spoke made your chest ache. it wasn’t the usual lazy drawl he used when he wanted attention. it was quieter and rougher, like he’d been holding this in. like if he said too much, too fast, he’d crack.

when you reached the edge of the bed, he sat up- fluid and slow, all coiled strength and golden heat. his hand reached out, brushing your waist. then he looked up to you, his thumb grazing just under the hem of your shirt, not asking to take it off- just touching. just grounding himself in the feel of you.

“you’ve been running yourself to the ground,” he muttered. his hands rose to your hips, settling there like he was afraid you might tip over if he let go. “doing everyone’s job but your own. all that weight on your shoulders… and not a single dumbass thinks to carry it for you.”

he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to your stomach. one hand moved to the back of your thigh, the other pulling you closer by the curve of your hip. when he spoke again, it vibrated against your skin.

“let me take care of you tonight. no fightin’ me on it.” his voice was a low growl as his hands slid up your sides, warm and rough palms that somehow felt like they were tracing the very soul of you. his gaze was dark and hungry.

he gently guided you onto the bed with an unexpected slow care. his hands worked under your shirt, lifting it over your head, but he never rushed. never pulled you too quickly, even though the need in his eyes was unmistakable.

you could feel the heat radiating off him as you let him undress you. “leona…” you murmured softly, letting out a slow breath as you met his eyes. “i’ve missed you.” the words slipped out, your exhaustion from the week catching up with the overwhelming pull of his presence.

leona’s emerald eyes softened at that, his lips curling into something more tender than you’d expected. “yeah? been missin’ you, too.” he pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing a little heavier now as he let his hands roam over your skin. “been workin’ yourself too hard. not gonna let you keep going like this.”

you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped as he kissed your collarbone, his lips gentle but insistent as he slowly worked his way down, exploring the bare skin beneath his fingers.

“let me make you feel good,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “don’t have to do a damn thing but let me.”

your fingers curled into the sheets as you tried to push aside the fatigue and let him, to let go like he was asking. you let your head fall back against the pillow, a shiver running through your body as his hands slid down your hips, gently guiding you closer to him. “you always know how to make me feel better.”

leona gave a low chuckle, his lips brushing over your neck as he kissed you there, slow and reverent. “that’s ‘cause you deserve to feel good. my pretty little herbivore, always takin’ care of everyone else.”

his lips found your shoulder, and this kiss felt like an anchor- soft and reassuring. his hands were slow and careful as he slid your pants down, lifting you just enough.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured against your skin.

you couldn’t help but let out a breath, your body already reacting to the slow, deliberate pace. “i trust you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it felt like the most honest thing you could say.

leona’s eyes darkened, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed you deeply, almost hungrily now- but still in that caring way. “good,” he rumbled. “now let me show you just how much i need you.”

“you’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, while his hands found the clasp of your bra. with a quick, practiced motion, he freed you from the fabric. his fingers traced the curves of your body, feeling the soft swell of your breasts before leaning down to press a kiss between them.

you gasped, arching your back just slightly as you felt his hands gently cup your breasts, squeezing softly, and you moaned at the sensation.

leona’s eyes locked onto you, his gaze dark with hunger and admiration, he lowered himself even further, his lips brushing over the soft flesh of your chest, tasting and worshipping each inch of you as if he couldn’t get enough. “you don’t know how much i’ve wanted this all week,” he whispered, voice thick with longing. “to have you, to take care of you like you deserve.”

his mouth found your nipple, teasing it with soft kisses before he finally wrapped his lips around it, sucking gently. you arched your chest further into him, your fingers threading into his hair as a shiver ran through you.

leona let out a soft groan, his grip tightening as he lavished attention to the other breast, his hands kneading and massaging, making you squirm beneath him in pleasure. “so fucking perfect,” he muttered against your skin.

you could feel the tension burning in your core, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. his lips moved between your breasts, trailing kisses along your skin as his hands slid lower, brushing against your stomach, teasing the waistband of your panties.

he pulled away just long enough to look down at you, his eyes heavy with desire. “tell me how you feel,” he demanded, his voice soft but firm. “i need to hear it.”

“feels so good,” you breathed, voice shaky. “so good, leona…”

a low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest at your answer. “yeah?” he murmured, lips brushing against your navel now. “i’m just gettin’ started, herbivore.”

his thumbs hooked under your panties, and he dragged them down slow like he wanted to savor the moment. like unwrapping something precious. he dropped them to the floor, then nudged your thighs apart, settling between them as if he belonged there. as if this was where he should be.

“been thinkin’ about this all week,” he muttered, voice thick with restraint. “thinkin’ about how sweet you’d taste when you’ve been workin’ yourself ragged.”

and then he leaned in, brushing his mouth against your inner thigh first- featherlight kisses that had your hips twitching. his tongue flicked out to taste the soft skin there, and you gasped, already breathless before he even touched where you needed him most.

when he finally kissed your clit, slow and deliberate, it made you jerk. he didn’t tease- not this time. he latched on gently with his lips and sucked, firm and controlled, like he was easing you into it.

you moaned, fingers fisting the sheets as your thighs tried to close on instinct. but his hands were already there, holding them open, thumbs stroking softly along your skin to calm you.

“sensitive little thing,” he murmured against you with a grin in his voice, kissing your clit again. “you always get like this when i haven’t touched you in a while.”

you whimpered in response, your hips arching, chasing the heat of his mouth. he licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, savoring the taste with a groan, before burying his face against you more firmly. his tongue worked in slow, practiced motions- deep, unhurried, worshipful.

and when he slid two fingers into you, it made your back arch off the mattress. he curled them just right, the pads of his fingers stroking that sweet, spongy spot with devastating precision as his mouth stayed glued to your clit, licking and sucking in rhythm with each thrust.

“that’s it,” he cooed between licks.

you cried out, legs trembling as your body tightened around his fingers, the pleasure already coiling fast in your belly. it was overwhelming how he touched you- so thorough, so attentive, like he didn’t want to miss a single reaction.

and all the while, he kept whispering praises between strokes of his tongue.

“tastin’ even sweeter than i remember…” he nipped at your clit.

“this cute little pussy missed me, huh?” he increased his pace.

“you always clench around my fingers like this?” his half-lidded eyes opened to peer up at you, taking in every reaction.

“that’s it baby… fall apart for me.”

the orgasm hit hard, sharp and blinding, your back arching off the bed as you cried out his name.

“leona-!”

but he didn’t stop.

even as your body trembled beneath him, even as your thighs shook and your muscles clenched around his fingers, he kept going. his tongue stayed firmly on your clit, flicking and sucking through every wave that rolled through you, dragging your high out mercilessly.

“that’s it,” he murmured against you, his voice like velvet and fire. “give it all to me.”

you whimpered, half-begging, half-moan, your hips twitching from the sensitivity. but his fingers stayed buried deep inside you, still stroking that tender spot while his mouth worked you over with maddening skill.

it was too much. too sharp. too good.

your legs instinctively tried to close again, but leona growled low in his throat and held them open with ease.

“nuh-uh,” he muttered, lips slick against your folds. “you don’t get to run now, herbivore. not after you’ve been makin’ me wait all week.”

you squirmed beneath him, your voice breaking. “leona- please, i can’t-”

he looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded but warm, a smug softness in his smirk that made your stomach flutter.

“you can,” he said, kissing your inner thigh again before going right back to your swollen clit. “you’re gonna give me another. you’re not done yet.”

his tongue and fingers were relentless now, coaxing every bit of pleasure from your overstimulated pussy.

your voice cracked again as the pressure built, even sharper than before, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“fuck- leona-”

“come on, sweetheart,” he whispered, lifting his head just enough to speak against your core. “give your lion one more. be my good girl.”

and with that- one firm flick of his tongue, one perfectly angled stroke of his fingers, you shattered again.

the second orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and overwhelming. you sobbed out his name as your vision blurred, your whole body trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

“that’s it,” he growled softly, finally slowing his pace, though his fingers still stayed inside you, coaxing you through the aftershocks. “did so good for me.”

your chest heaved as you blinked through the haze, your body limp, dazed, and trembling under his hands. he gently withdrew his fingers, and you whimpered at the emptiness, even through the lingering sensitivity.

leona leaned up over you, licking his fingers clean in a way that made your core flutter all over again. then his hands braced on either side of your head as he hovered above you, his green eyes searching your face, softer now.

“you still with me?” he asked, like this part mattered most.

you gave him a shaky nod, your voice breathless. “yeah… yeah, i’m with you.”

his lips curved faintly. “good.” he kissed you deep and slow, letting you feel the way his body trembled now too. “need to be inside you, baby. need to feel you for real.”

you whimpered against his mouth, nodding, already reaching down to tug his boxers down. he helped you, shrugging them off with a low groan, his cock springing free- thick, flushed, and aching for you. he gripped it at the base, giving himself a slow stroke as he settled himself between your thighs, lining himself up.

“tell me you want this,” he said again, voice husky and firm.

“i want you,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “need you, leona.”

he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky breath like he’d been holding it in for hours.

“that’s my girl.”

with one slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he pushed in.

your breath caught, your nails digging into his arms as he filled you inch by inch- stretching you perfectly, deeply, until he was seated fully inside, his pelvis flush with yours.

a strained groan tore from his throat, and his head dropped to your shoulder as he stilled, just for a moment, trying to get a hold of himself.

“shit,” he breathed, “you feel like heaven…”

he kissed your collarbone, your jaw, your lips- soothing, adoring- as he began to move. slow, deep thrusts that made you feel every inch of him, the warmth of his body covering yours like a blanket, anchoring you to the bed.

“been wantin’ this all damn week,” he rasped into your ear. “thinkin’ about how tight you’d be… how pretty you’d sound when i finally got back inside you.”

you moaned, arms wrapped tight around his back, drawing him in even closer as your hips rolled to meet his rhythm.

“leona…”

“i got you,” he murmured, “gonna take care of you, baby. gonna make it all better.”

leona kept his pace steady, grinding his hips just right, hitting all the perfect spots with every roll of his body. his eyes were lidded but focused, devouring you with every flutter of your lashes, every broken moan you gave him in return.

“c’mon,” he whispered, brushing your hair back with one hand. “lemme feel you cum on me. you can do that for me, right?”

your breath hitched, the pressure in your core pulling tight, trembling.

“leona- ah, i’m-”

he kissed you hard just as your body snapped again, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave. you gasped into his mouth, nails raking down his back as your walls clenched around him, milking him with desperate need.

he didn’t stop, just growled- low and wrecked- then shifted.

in one fluid motion, he sat up on his knees and lifted your legs, folding them back near your chest. his hands gripped the back of your knees, locking you into place as he drove back into you in one deep and hungry thrust.

“fuck-” you whimpered, the new angle punching the breath out of your lungs.

“that’s it,” leona groaned, watching the way your tits bounced with every thrust, the way your eyes glazed from overstimulation. “gonna keep you like this… take all of me. just like that.”

your moans pitched higher, body already too sensitive- but it didn’t matter. not when he was looking at you like that. not when he was hitting so deep it felt like you could feel him in your stomach.

“you’re squeezin’ me so tight, pretty thing…” he growled, sweat beading on his brow. “like your body’s beggin’ me to fill you up.”

he bent over you, still pressing your legs back, mouth brushing against your jaw as he picked up the pace- harder now, rougher. the bed creaked beneath you, and you couldn’t focus on anything except him. the way he filled you so completely it blurred the edges of your thoughts.

leona’s gaze dropped to your lips, then your eyes, and something possessive flashed behind emerald.

“open up for me,” he rasped, his voice wrecked and low.

you obeyed without thinking, lips parting, tongue just barely peeking out in anticipation.

he leaned in, just enough to let a slow string of spit drip from his mouth to yours- hot, thick, deliberate. it landed on your tongue in a warm line, and you whimpered at the sheer intimacy of it, your body clenching around him.

leona watched you swallow it with a low, throaty groan, his eyes blazing.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours again, possessive and fond all at once. “takin’ everything i give you so good, herbivore.”

then he kissed you again- messy, breathless, claiming- before rutting back into you with renewed hunger.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he growled against your mouth. “you’re mine.”

your answer was a whimper, your fingers curling into the sheets as he drove deeper into you, like he was carving the feeling of him into your very core.

then his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit. he rubbed it in firm circles, making your hips jerk beneath him.

“one more for me,” he murmured, voice fraying at the edges. “c’mon, sweet girl. wanna feel you fall apart while i fill you up.”

your body was trembling, toes curling, every nerve alive and singing. the overstimulation was too much and not enough, and the way he was looking down at you like you were something sacred, something his- shoved you toward the final edge.

“l-leona-!”

“i know,” he cooed, fingers moving faster now, his thrusts growing more desperate. “gonna make you mine. gonna put it so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

your orgasm hit like lightning- white hot and overwhelming. you cried out, thighs shaking as your walls clamped down around him, squeezing tight and relentless.

leona snarled as you pulsed around him, his rhythm faltering just once before he drove in deep, hips flush to yours, cock buried to the hilt.

“fuck- take it,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he came with a shudder. “take all of it.”

you could feel the warmth of him flood inside you, thick and hot, his hips grinding lazily as if to make sure none of it went to waste. his fingers stayed on your clit, coaxing every last aftershock from you even as your body trembled beneath him.

his lips brushed against your cheek, panting. “that’s it, baby,” he whispered. “you did so fuckin’ good… all mine.”

you didn’t even remember when your legs were finally let go, only that the weight of leona collapsed beside you moments later- warm and solid, his arm sliding beneath your shoulders to pull you flush against his chest.

“easy now,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. his voice was rough, but the gentleness settled into your bones. “you still breathin’? need water?”

you managed a tired hum and a small shake of your head, your cheek resting against his shoulder. your body ached in the best way- every inch of you was humming with satisfaction.

leona’s palm smoothed over your back in lazy circles, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. you felt his tail curl around your leg loosely, more instinct than thought, and it made you smile sleepily.

“i love you…” you murmured, lips barely forming words.

he exhaled, the sound heavy but soft. “i know. i love you too.”

you felt the press of his lips- first to your hair, then your shoulder, then your cheek. a trail of kisses spoke louder than anything he could say aloud. his hands never left you, holding you securely, like he needed to keep feeling your warmth against him.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, evened out, your body fully relaxing in his arms. sleep pulled you under without resistance, safe and surrounded.

leona stayed awake a little longer, watching you. how peaceful you looked, no responsibilities dragging you down, no summons or tasks barking your name.

then he heard a buzz of your phone.

without moving much, he reached over and retrieved it from where it had fallen near the edge of the bed. the screen was lit with a message.

[crowley]: Need you in the main hall first thing in the morning- urgent errand. Sorry, prefect!

leona stared at it for a moment, green eyes narrowing.

“tch. not tonight.”

he swiped it away and deleted the message before you could ever see it.

#leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar scenarios #leona kingscholar #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona smut #leona kingscholar x reader smut #smut #soft dom leona always every day #i don’t believe in mean bf leona

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kamitv · 1 year ago

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Thinking about Toji who…

Is so big in comparison to you.

He’s simply that— big. His shoulders are so broad that when he’s standing behind you, his shadow almost always casts over you. Even if you’re not exactly small yourself, this man is just fucking huge and beefy.

You’d tease him about it too and “joke” about wondering what it’s like to be put in a chokehold by him. He’d probably put you in one too if you asked nicely.

Isn’t completely broke but damn sure isn’t rich either.

He makes enough money to please you. Although his gambling is a bit of a problem, Toji tries to distract you from it by flattering you with occasional gifts that he bought using his wins.

Toji makes do with the money he has. If he’s not gambling it away, it’s 100% going to you to keep that pretty lil’ smile on your face. He’s happy you weren’t hell bent on marrying a rich man and that you accept him for who he is financially.

Has a breeding kink.

For someone who didn’t do much for his children, he was very determined to fuck you full of his cum after seeing how you sweet-talked some little girl on the street. Something about such a small interaction drove him crazy later that night.

Your legs would he dangling over his big shoulders, body folded exactly how he wants you, pussy sopping with every harsh thrust of his hips as he buried his thick cock inside you over and over again— listening to the way you babble his name and watching how your jaw hangs open, eyes rolled back with drool dripping down your chin.

Fuck, you’re a complete mess but he loves it. Especially with the way your cunt spasms around his dick every time he starts talking to you. Toji would have his face hovered right over yours so every breath is shared and the sex is beyond intimate.

Saying things like, “Gonna let me stuff this pretty pussy full of me, huh?” “Yeah? Y’like the sound of that, baby?” “Want me t’make you a mommy? Hm?”

To which you’d just nod along, not against the idea in the slightest but too fucked out to truly respond. Toji would groan at your agreement, heavy balls slapping against your skin whilst his cock splits you open. Huffing an almost desperate, “Uhuh… You’ll look s’pretty walkin’ around with my kid, ma’.”

Is infatuated with your ass.

Toji almost feels as though he shouldn’t go twenty-four hours without feeling your ass at least once. The way the fat fits and molds into his palm perfectly, how soft you are, and the way it’s every movement captivates his attention like a baby with a sensory video is quite amusing.

Even if you didn’t think you had the fattest ass in the world, Toji believes otherwise. He doesn’t care if you nearly fall over every time he slaps your ass as he walks by, hearing the loud smack that follows and the squeal of surprise that leaves your lips makes him happy.

One time, he found you lying on your stomach and saw that as the perfect opportunity to lay his head against your ass, the rest of his body weight rested against your legs and leaving you immobile.

It never really matters what you’re wearing either, he knows what’s under all those clothes so he’ll compliment you on how your ass looks in anything. Though, he will admit that seeing your ass in a tight dress makes his cock spring up.

Would never admit it but is often needy for you.

If you ever call him such a thing, he’ll curse you out while fucking you dumb— claiming to show you just how “needy” he is for you.

He hates when you catch faint pitches in his groans or moans, especially while you’re kissing him. His neck is so damn sensitive, more-so right under his jawline, so whenever your lips and tongue swipe against that area, his throat would vibrate with a deep groan. And fuck if you’re sitting on top of him, steadily rocking your hips against him, you may catch him slipping and he might just whine-

Not that he’ll ever admit he did or does.

Hates when you ignore him.

And you know he hates it too so that’s exactly why you do it.

After any argument, you just go quiet and start giving him those annoying little mhm’s or uhuh’s, clearly not paying attention to a word he’s saying.

Sometimes you ignore him on accident though, not that it changes how much he hates it. It’s usually when you’re working on something or trying to focus and he’ll come talking to you only to receive silence in response as everything he’d just said goes through one ear and out the other.

Typically, he fixes this problem by getting really close to you and talking right against your ear, forcing you to hear every word he’s saying and smiling at the way you find his lips ticklish against your skin.

Forgets important dates sometimes.

He once forgot your anniversary with him and you put him on sex ban for a month. To you, it should’ve been longer but Toji tried his best to make up for his forgetfulness during that month.

Forgot Megumi’s birthday but was happy to have you there to remind him. Again, you scolded him and he promised to work on it.

Doesn’t bother getting jealous.

The fuck is he getting jealous for? You’re his woman. Any man that looks at you doesn’t disturb Toji’s peace, he knows you’ll never leave him (he tells you that you’d be dumb to do so).

If he ever caught someone flirting with you, he’d casually walk up to you and shower you in lewd kisses and touches just to scare the person off. Toji will walk up mid-conversation and grab a firm hold of your jaw, tugging you toward him just to press his lips against yours. After which, he’s dragging his kisses down to your neck, moving a hand to your waist and the other to your ass, silently telling others to fuck off through his touches alone.

Would kill for you.

This should be obvious too. Taking some’s life for you is no different than his job— even though you don’t know much about it…

He may not tell you he’d murder someone for you but if you seemed distressed enough by someone’s presence, Toji will have them dealt with. You’d later ask “Hey, what happened to…” Only to hear that they got into some “strange accident”. But in reality, your lover had disposed of them.

Cherishes you in his own way.

He doesn’t say anything too sappy to you but he does have his ways of showing his love for you.

Toji has a tendency to stare at you, admiring your features and wondering how or why the hell you still put up with him. You’re so perfect in his eyes that sometimes he thinks you deserve someone better and less forgetful or violent.

And yet, every time he comes home— you’re there with that sexy smile of yours and gentle voice that drives him crazy.

Pet names with Toji slip off of his tongue naturally. “You look s’pretty today, doll.” “Love you too, pretty girl.” “I like your hair like that, ma. Looks nice.” “C’mon, don’t be mad at me baby, I can buy you more snacks…”

Loves fucking you from behind.

He’s always bending you over some surface or pressing you against some wall. While, yes, he loves that pretty face of yours, he also loves pressin’ it against the bed as his drills his fat cock inside you.

Toji likes watching the way your ass bounces back against him. He loves looking at the arch in your back, watching your nails scratch and scrape at the sheets, and staring at the way your pussy messily spreads around his cock— such a pretty white ring of cum forming at his base.

He’ll get the whole scene even messier too, spitting down where you’re connected, making his cock slip in and out of you faster so he can fuck deeper. Oh how he loves smacking your ass til’ it’s left with marks, gripping onto your cheeks and just toying with you while he fucks you to tears and incoherent cries.

Then he’s teasing you, “C’mon, throw that ass back on me, girl.” “There ya goo, such a good slut f’me, aren’tcha?” “Uhuh, take my cock baby, jus’ like that.” “Look back at me, lemme see those tears, doll.” “Mhm, feels s’good, huh?” “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop. Keep… Keep movin’ those fuckin’ hips baby, doin’ so good f’me.”

Doesn’t mind listening to you ramble.

You’re a talker, that’s for damn sure. In the beginning of the relationship, he thought he’d grow to hate how much you talk but he actually loves it.

When you talk about your day or any drama that’s happened, he’s happily sitting there listening to every word. Hell, sometimes Toji even makes sassy comments, “Girl, you need better friends.” “You told her off? Type shit.”

And if you pay attention close enough, you may notice how he’s picked up on things you say and started saying them himself. Whatever phrases you often use, you’d catch him using from time to time & you think it’s just the cutest thing in the world.

Would lose his mind if you ever called him Daddy.

You did it one time as a joke and you nearly got pregnant the same night.

A/N: Not proofread— apologies for errors. This is for those that requested! Lastly, UHM HELLO THANK Y’ALL FOR 3K FOLLOWERS HERE? ^.^ y’all are so sweet I’m gonna eat you guys.

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meimei-archives · 7 months ago

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POLAROID LOVER:: Rafe cameron

WARNING! :: naked pictures, pictures during sex, smoking (weed) kissing, riding, unprotected sex, teasing, friends to lovers, stoner! best friend!rafe.

SUMMARY! :: after dropping his lighter under the bed Rafe accidentally comes across an old box with a camera inside and decides he wants to have a photoshoot.

A/N:: two posts in one day??? I’m raw asf frl, no but I just really need to start posting often but it be so mf hard to stay focused when I write cause I be getting high WHILE writing😔….

Music played as both you and Rafe laid on his bed, the smell of weed taking over your senses as this was the third blunt in an hour you both had smoked. Your eyes were low and glossed over, you let the burning blunt sit between your lips and inhale the strong smoke.

You felt your lungs burning as you held in the smoke. Handing it off to the boy who was equally as high next to you seeing him stare at the ceiling as he hits the blunt as well. Turning over abruptly he hangs over the side of the bed and reaches under his bed his hands reach around as his hand finds a box he pulls it out in confusion before he picks it up and sets it on his sheets.

Digging through the box the sound of rumbling could be heard over the music, feeling for the familiar pair of glasses and camera. He clutched them both in his grasp and pulled them from under the rest of the junk he found with a lazy grin. “Why the fuck do you have a box under your bed? And why is there so much shit in it?” You ask but Rafe doesn’t dwell much on it.

Rafe had the bright idea that came to his fried out mind "lay down I wanna take pictures of you" he says as his hand gently pushes down on your midriff, you lean back until you're in the position that he was once in before he was sitting on his knees as they dig into the mattress , moving his legs to straddle over your stomach.

Your shirt riding up your stomach caught the eye of Rafe who had a small smile on his lips, his brain practically short circuits as his large hand pushes your shirt up over your chest revealing your pace bra with a bow sewn into the middle.

Your eyes widen in shock at the feeling of his cold hands on your warm skin "what are you doing?" You ask shyly, seeing the boy above you with hungry eyes "pose for the camera" he mumbled lifting the camera above you. You smile covering your eyes with your arm slightly embarrassed that your friend was taking a picture of you in your bra.

Waving it around you opens your eyes to look at the blonde who had still been towering above you. His eyes darken as he looked down on you with those sweet doe eyes looking back up at him like a deer in headlights and he loved every single second of it.

Dropping the camera on the mattress his hands pull your shirt over your head and toss it into the carpeted floor. "Rafe" you say just above a whisper at how bold the boy had become. "Pose" he whispered back, picking up the camera, the tension in the air becoming thicker by the moment.

Pushing yourself on your forearms you look up at the lens your eyes drain from the bright flash, again the camera spits out the picture. Pulling it out this time Rafe didn't look at the picture he put the camera down and took his own shirt off laying next to you with a smile on his face.

You felt your body flush as your shoulders rub against each other. Lifting the camera above both of your faces Rafe looked over at you who had already been looking at him. Your eyes are red and glossy as your eyelashes cast a shadow on your cheeks.

Holding eye contact for what felt like forever his eyes flicker down to your lips then back into your eyes. He didn't move any further making you almost let a whine ripple through your throat at how needy you felt to have his lips on yours.

Moving in closer, your eyes leave his and fall to his plump lips, you feel the tip of his nose brush against yours, even the smallest touch makes your stomach churn with butterflies. Giving him one last look your eyes flutter closed as you close the little distance between you and the feeling of his soft lips on yours was all that surged through your mind.

Sucking in a breath through your nose your hand falls to the back of his neck pulling him in deeper making the kiss more needy and lust filled. Progressively speeding up your teeth clash against each other as the smell of his cologne takes over your senses.

Letting out a small groan Rafe's hand makes way to the belt loop of your jeans, hooking two fingers inside and pulling your hips closer against his. Your bra covered chest pushes against his naked one while your hand finds his hair, entangling your fingers and shamelessly moaning into his mouth.

His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of weed and candy on his taste buds didn't bother you a bit.

The flash of the camera goes off making you pull away with hesitation written all over your face, Rafe pulling back to see the picture develop and show up with a frame of you and him swapping saliva and shoving your tongues down each other's throats.

You could see the tent in his jeans starting to grow "I'm gonna hang these up all over my room" he mumbled content how they came out . His words make your thighs push together at the thought of Rafe having such intimate pictures of you and him being seen by your friends in his room. But you aren't as slick as you hoped to be. Rafe caught the way your knees and thighs pushed together at his words making the small boyish grin on his lips turn into a smirk.

Looking back over at you both still high, Rafe couldn't help but ask "you wanna keep going?" You could pounce on the boy at any moment seeing as his hair was now messy, his lips now swollen with your lipgloss smeared on them, and his labored breathing making his chest rise and fall more noticeably. You nod your head looking him in his icy blue eyes with adoration and lust "I want you to fuck me" you say loud enough for him but just above a whisper in the silent room.

Your words make Rafe twitch in his boxers. Letting out a groan his head falls back "you're gonna fucking kill me" he said as his cock aches within the confinements of his tight boxers and pants.

The way you looked at him was like you were begging for him to just fuck you dumb on his cock. So when he gripped your chin pushing your head back, you could feel his lips on your neck, aimlessly sucking hickeys on your neck leaving purple and red splotches on your supple skin.

You let out small moans at the feeling of his teeth brushing against your sensitive spot that makes you shiver and your hand entangle in his messy blonde locks. His thumb rubbing against your bottom lip, you open your mouth letting the harsh pad of his thumb press against your tongue.

Sucking on his thumb Rafe groaned as the feeling of your warm mouth engulfing his finger, he couldn't help but imagine how good you would look with his cock on your tongue instead of his thumb. Kissing a trail down your neck to your chest.

Your body is covered in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm tongue licking at your cold skin. His hand finds itself behind your back unclipping your bra letting it slip off your shoulders revealing your bare chest and hard nipples.

Licking a stripe on one of your nipples you roll your hips at the feeling. But as soon as he pulled away you whine, "sit on my lap" he says in a low tone.

Catching a glimpse of the look on his face as the both of you shift until Rafe's back presses against the headboard. Pulling his jeans down and tossing them on the floor he looks up expectantly waiting for you to pull yours off as well.

Understanding without saying a word you pull them off discarding them with his as well. Leaving you in your panties that were sticking to you with a small wet patch seeping through the thin fabric.

Crawling into his lap you press your ass down on his bulge with no regard earning you a choked moan. You could feel as if your pussy practically stuck to the wet fabric of your panties while you grind your hips against him.

The small wet watch of precum becomes larger as your panties make friction soaking his underwear as well. The outline of his cock rubbing against your clit makes your head spin and you couldn't help but moan and grind harder against him.

"You feel so good" you whimper hearing the sticky sounds of your slick thighs rubbing together, it was messy yet the both of you were too eager chasing some form of an orgasm to care what kind of mess you make.

Your hand moves around the mattress to find the camera as you look down at Rafe whose head was thrown back while he lets out the deepest groans of pleasure. His hands guiding your hips against his at a faster pace makes you choke out louder moans.

"Fuck" he whispered harshly as you finally find the camera and holding the camera up you place your eye close to the view finder as you point the lens at a dazed Rafe who was on cloud 9.

Pressing down on the shutter button the flash finally goes off making Rafe open his eyes and look up at you, "you looked too good" you whisper placing one of your hands down on his lower abdomen as you feel Rafe buck his hips into you faster.

The feeling of the fabric running against your pussy slightly burned but it felt too good to care. "Feels so good" he grumbled as the pressure began to build. The both of you chasing your orgasms push your panties to the side rubbing your bare pussy against the fabric of his boxers at a fast pace that makes you whine.

You gasp feeling yourself being sent over the edge, Rafe begins to slow down but you only shake your head as you anticipate him reaching his peak. "Please keep going, I want you to cum" you moan as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind a trail of red marks.

Your needy words make his eyes roll back as he pushes your hips down, he ruts into you as he moans shamelessly. Rafe had no idea if it was just the weed or if your pussy had fucking magic but your sweet moans and the sloppy sounds send him into a spiral of pleasure.

His cum seeps through his boxers as his hips twitch in a bit of overstimulation he didn't care, his hips slow down and then stop completely as he feels himself slowly coming back down to earth.

He lets out a large huff as a shy smile finds its way on his face, he can't believe he just came in his boxers after literally letting you dry hump him like a needy puppy. His hands grip at the flesh of your ass he lets out a small chuckle with a smirk on his lips.

"You're driving me crazy- fuck" he groaned as he continues to catch his breath. You giggle at him still feeling your mind trying to process. Who would've thought getting high off of 3 blunts and having sex would feel this good.

Pushing you off his thighs Rafe gently pushes you down into the sheets pulling your panties down and sliding them off your ankle he discards them. The view of your pussy practically shining in all its wet glory. Rafe was desperate. To touch, taste and fill you up in so many ways he couldn't even think straight.

His hands unclip your bra watching your breasts spill out of the fabric and padding. Discarding it his hands palm your chest as leans down to lick your sensitive nipples making you let out a small moan.

Nobody had ever made you feel so good just by barely touching. Until Rafe had decided to drag his face down your stomach, littering small kisses on your sweet supple skin until he stopped at the place you needed him most.

Kissing down your inner thigh sucking hickeys into your skin you shiver at the feeling of his warm tongue giving your puffy lips a small lick. Whispering a curse under his breath he licks again this time he is much more confident.

he holds your thighs when the pleasure starts seizing your limbs, as the feeling of his warm tongue licking from your hole to your clit and sucking needly. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.

Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you.

The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good Rafe" you moan as you roll your hips against his face.

You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your nectar. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.

Pulling away his thumb Rafe flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone.

His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he pulled away, licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move, opening your eyes. You look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.

Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.

"Feels so good Rafe" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.

"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Rafe's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that had the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.

"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.

"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he giggled as he pulled away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.

You let out a small giggle that turned into a choked moan when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits.

Pulling them away he leans in to kiss you letting his tongue brush over yours to taste yourself. The smell of weed and whatever sweet smelling perfume he had on sent you into a spiral of neediness. "Want' you to fuck me so bad" you mumble against his lips.

"I got you don't worry" he says reassuringly, pulling off his cum stained boxers he let out a sigh of relief, his hard cock twitching and blushing a soft red at his tip he couldn't help but wrap his hand around his length and jerk himself off at the beautiful sight that was you naked in his bed looking up at his with round red eyes.

He moves your legs open wider as he takes his rightful place in between them once again. Watching the tip of his cock rub up and down your slit as your hips twitch in sensitivity. His cock glistening from a mixture of precum and your slick he presses the head of his cock at your entrance slowly pushing inside you enjoying the warm and tight feeling inside you.

His hands move to either side of your head as he looks down on you with complete adoration in his eyes. Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Rafe couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

Rafe; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick. "Just like that! I just want you to come inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out.

"Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Rafe's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his back leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning down to him , your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back is arching as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he said breathily "I want you to look at me when you cum okay?" Says opening his eyes looking up at you.

You nod as you let your moans fall past your lips, the sensation building more and more until it became to overwhelming you gasp "I'm gonna cum" you whine as your hips fall more hastily on him, his moans mixed with yours as he drowned in the feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him completely over the edge.

"Fuck" he groaned as warm spurts of cum filled you, grinding down and letting the cum spill past your walls and down the base of his cock you hum as your content with your orgasm.

And just as fast as all of this began- it ended with you pulling off of Rafe and laying down beside him, your chests both slowly riding and falling, you turn your head over to him with low red eyes, he meets your gaze "want me to re-light the blunt?" You ask with a smirk.

He nods, leaning over to kiss your lips he smiles against your lips as his hand reaches over to the bed side table that holds the ashtray his fingers pluck the blunt from out of the ash tray as well as grabbing the lighter he hands them off to you.

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senascoop · 5 months ago

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ꣀ꣒ WHEN YOU’RE ALL THAT THEY WANT IN THIS LIFE . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎

pairing, enhypen × afab reader . . . genre, scenario(s), comfort core . . . word count, 200-300 each . . . [LIBRARY]

. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !

“It’s okay, I can do this.” You mutter, determination laced in your voice as you struggle to pull your top over your head. The door is shut, the room quiet except for your frustrated sighs. Your fractured hand, wrapped tightly in a cast, throbs slightly, but the real pain isn’t physical. It’s the creeping frustration, the helplessness, the way twenty minutes have passed and you’re still stuck, half-dressed, fingers trembling. It’s just a bra. A simple t-shirt. But why does it feel impossible? Your throat tightens. Useless. The word sits heavy on your tongue, bitter and cruel.

“Baby, I’m coming in.” Heeseung’s voice is gentle, the door creaking open before you can protest. His gaze lands on your bare back, and though he can’t see your face, he knows—you’re frowning, lips pursed, probably on the verge of tears. “It’s just me, hmm?” His voice is soft as he steps forward, hands finding your shoulders. He carefully turns you to face him, and even as warmth creeps up his neck, he forces himself to focus—on you, not the vulnerability of your exposed skin. Heeseung swallows, picking up your bra with careful fingers. But his heart clenches when he finally sees your teary eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

You look down, shame curling in your stomach. “I feel so useless… I can’t even dress myself properly. My hand keeps getting in the way.” His brows knit together as he helps you clasp the bra, then effortlessly pulls the t-shirt over your head. His touch is careful, deliberate—like he’s afraid you might break further. When he’s done, Heeseung cups your cheeks, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Stop thinking that,” he murmurs. “This is temporary, hmm? But what’s permanent is my love for you.” His gaze holds yours, steady and full of warmth—reminding you that even when you feel weak, he sees you as nothing less than strong.

. , PARK JONGSEONG ☁︎ 박종성 !

You carefully mixed the ingredients, your hands coated in the strong, pungent scent of kimchi as you worked beside your future mother-in-law. You had always wanted to learn how to make it, especially for Jay. You smiled to yourself, imagining how he’d react to your homemade kimchi one day, even if you still weren’t sure when that "someday" would be. “It’s easy once you get the hang of it.” You muttered to yourself as you worked, following her instructions. From the doorway, you could hear Jay laughing lightly, chatting with his mom about something—probably teasing each other, the way they always did.

It made your heart warm to see them getting along so easily, and you couldn’t help but think about how one day, this might be your family too. Jay caught your eye and smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you. You knew the look—the one that said he could picture a future with you, one where you were part of his world, just as you were becoming part of his family. “I’m so glad you’re learning to make this,” Jay said, his voice low, as he came closer. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his warmth a reminder of how much he loved you. “You know,” he continued, his tone teasing, “I think my mom’s kimchi is the best. But your version might be a close second.” You laughed softly. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

. , SIM JAEYUN ☁︎ 심재윤 !

You sighed, staring at the crumpled bills in your wallet. The numbers weren’t adding up—again. How were pads this expensive? Weren’t they a necessity? You let out a frustrated groan, popping another piece of chocolate into your mouth. Maybe that was part of the problem too. You could survive without snacks, but during that time of the month? Impossible. You rested your head on the kitchen counter, already dreading the rest of the month.

“My money is your money. Stop calculating.” Jake’s voice startled you. You turned to see him standing at the bedroom door, arms crossed, eyes still half-lidded from sleep. His hair was messy, his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his smirk was sharp, full of amusement. “Yeah, but—” Before you could finish, he was behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back. His chin rested on your shoulder as he swayed you slightly, the warmth of his body making it hard to focus on why this still didn’t feel right.

“But what?” he murmured. “You do know I plan on marrying you, right?” Your breath hitched. “Jake—” “Nope. No arguments.” He spun you around effortlessly, hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed over your skin, his grin softening into something more sincere. “That means my money is already yours, dummy.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he only tapped your lips. “Nope. Not hearing it.” You huffed. “You’re impossible.” “And you love me for it.” He kissed your forehead before stepping back. “Now, should we go get you more chocolate too?” Damn him and his boyfriend privileges.

. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !

“Where is he…” you mumble, scanning the crowd anxiously. Sunghoon isn’t good with places like this—too many people, too much noise. You had only left for a few minutes to grab snacks, but now, the once calm area had become packed with people swarming to see a panda. Then you spot him. He’s stiff, standing awkwardly near a signpost, his hands clenched into nervous fists. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his shoulders rising slightly with tension. His gaze flickers around like he’s calculating an escape route, but his eyes widen the moment they land on you. You don’t waste a second, weaving through the bodies until you reach him.

The second your hand finds his, he flinches—but when he realizes it’s you, his grip tightens. Relief washes over his face as you quickly guide him out of the crowd. The moment you’re in the clear, you pull him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, you got stuck because of me.” Sunghoon shakes his head, still catching his breath. “It’s not your fault. I mean… I was the one who got hungry.” He mutters, trying to act tough, but the pink dusting his cheeks gives him away. Then, in a quieter voice, he mumbles, “But I’m glad it was you who found me. Otherwise, I’d look like a lost kid.” You grin, poking his flushed cheek. “You kinda already did.” “Shut up.” He groans, but the way he squeezes your hand says otherwise.

. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !

You leaned your head against Sunoo’s shoulder, wincing slightly as the throbbing in your foot made itself known. You never imagined that something so small could cause this much trouble. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but it made it impossible to walk without cringing. Despite your attempts to be independent, Sunoo had insisted on helping, his voice filled with concern. “I told you to be careful.” His tone was teasing but laced with care. You sighed, not wanting to feel helpless. “I was careful! It just… happened.” He chuckled, a soft, comforting sound, as he gently adjusted his hold around you. Even though you were leaning heavily against him, you couldn’t help but notice how strong he was—certainly stronger than you’d expected.

Sunoo was never the bulky type; he wasn’t exactly a gym freak, and you loved him just the way he was. Still, the way he effortlessly lifted you into his arms made you pause. “Are you sure you’re not secretly training for a superhero role?” You teased, letting your voice be light despite the discomfort. “Maybe.” He smirked down at you, carrying you up the stairs with ease. “But my real superpower is making sure you’re always taken care of.” You laughed softly, your heart fluttering at his words. “Well, you’re doing a great job.” He winked, eyes sparkling with affection. “I know.” As he laid you down gently on the bed, his touch lingering on your side, you couldn’t help but feel thankful—not just for his strength, but for the way he always knew how to make you feel safe, even when life threw you off balance.

. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !

You lay in bed, limbs heavy, the fever wrapping around you like an unbearable weight. Every inch of your body ached, exhaustion pulling at your consciousness. You didn’t remember when exactly your eyes had closed, only that the loneliness of being sick made the world feel quieter, emptier. When you woke up, it wasn’t silence that greeted you—it was a familiar voice, soft yet laced with worry. “You scared me when you didn’t pick up your phone.” Your vision blurred slightly as you tried to focus.

Jungwon stood beside your bed, a warm cloth in his hand, dabbing your forehead. In his other hand was a bowl of soup, the steam curling in the air. You blinked, groggy, then turned to your phone on the nightstand. Ten missed calls. Your throat felt dry. “How’d you know?” Jungwon sighed, dipping the spoon into the soup before carefully bringing it to your lips. “Because you always pick up. And when you don’t, it means something’s wrong.” The first sip was surprisingly sweet, warming your throat, easing the discomfort in your chest.

You hummed in appreciation, and a small, satisfied smile tugged at Jungwon’s lips. “This is… really good,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “Of course it is. I made it,” he said, feigning smugness before his expression softened. His hand came up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your warm skin. “Good thing, though… your temperature feels normal now.” His touch, gentle and reassuring, made something inside you melt. “Jungwon…” “Shh.” He shook his head. “No need to thank me. Taking care of you is kinda my full-time job.” You let out a tired chuckle. “Oh? Do you get paid for this?” He grinned. “Yeah. Your love is enough.”

. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !

“Don’t stop,” Riki mumbles, voice laced with exhaustion as your fingers glide through his soft hair. His head rests on your chest, his body melting into yours as he finally lets himself be taken care of—for once. You feel the tension leave his shoulders with every stroke, his breathing slowing, steadying. “It feels like my stress is fading away…” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper. You let out a soft chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. “Then just stay like this,” you say, shifting slightly before tossing a leg over his, pulling him impossibly closer. He lets out a content sigh, nuzzling deeper into you, the warmth between you two making the rest of the world disappear. “Hmmpf…” he hums, voice drowsy, before mumbling, “I can’t wait to live with you forever.”

His words come out so naturally, like a thought slipping past his lips before he can even second-guess it. Your heart stutters. “Wouldn’t you get annoyed?” you tease, though there’s a genuine question hidden underneath. “Like those couples who grow tired of each other?” Riki immediately lifts his head, eyes blinking up at you in pure offense before peppering your face with soft, lazy kisses—your cheeks, your nose, your lips. “Never,” he mumbles against your skin, before sighing and resting his head back against your chest, fingers curling into your shirt. You smile as he wraps his arms around you, holding you like you’re his whole world. Because, in truth, you are.

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bookwormjust · 4 months ago

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In Your Presence : Azriel’s Quiet Sanctuary

(Azriel x mate reader)

The room was quiet, the soft morning light filtering in through the curtains casting a golden glow over everything. Azriel stepped inside, his leathers damp from sweat, his muscles still thrumming with the adrenaline of training. Cassian had been relentless this morning, but Azriel didn’t mind. He relished the challenge, especially when his mind was at ease. And it was always at ease now, knowing you were here.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch. You were still in bed, cocooned under the covers, your peaceful form nestled against his pillow. Your hair was slightly tousled from sleep, and your breathing was slow and steady. You had rolled to his side of the bed sometime during the night, your head resting exactly where his usually did.

Azriel stood there for a moment, unmoving, his heart softening in a way that still surprised him. The room—his room—had never felt like this before.

It had always been a place of solitude, a retreat for his mind and body after long, grueling days.

But now, with you in it, it was more than just his space. It was yours, together. His gaze wandered across the room, taking in the small touches of you that had effortlessly blended with his life.

Your books stacked beside his, your clothes hanging neatly next to his leathers, your sketches scattered on his desk among his reports. Even the scent of you lingered in the air, warm and comforting. It was as though you had always been here, always belonged. You fit so perfectly into his life, it was almost unimaginable that he had lived without you for so long.

Azriel moved closer, careful not to make too much noise. He slipped out of his boots and removed his jacket, setting them aside before sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. His shadows curled lazily around him, quiet and content, as though they, too, recognized the peace you brought him. Leaning down slightly, Azriel rested his forearms on his knees, his hazel eyes fixed on you. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes rested softly against your cheeks.

A faint smile tugged at his lips when he noticed you clutching his pillow a little tighter, as if seeking him even in sleep. Unable to resist, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers light and reverent.

You stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh before settling back into sleep. Azriel chuckled quietly, the sound low and full of affection. “You have no idea how perfect you are, do you?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned back against the headboard, careful not to disturb you as he pulled the covers up around you. His hand found yours beneath the blankets, his fingers brushing against yours as he allowed himself a moment of stillness. For the first time in centuries, Azriel felt whole. And it was all because of you.

#acotar x reader #acotar #acotar reader imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

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mimiiis · 9 days ago

Text

Strangers (Remmick x Fem!Reader)

summary: “Dont talk to strangers or you might fall in love.”- Run away from home, you find yourself begging God to send someone who will love you.

warnings: 18+ mdni— !Not Proofread! , like a lot of religious trauma, heavy mentions/talk of death, death, mention of abuse, freaky ahh vampire, smut, sliight dry humping, boob play (?), munch Remmick, drool/saliva , piv sex, raw sex, creampie, blood, biting, blood sucking during sex, desperate and needy bitches, its a bit gorey and dark but nothing too much

word count: 14.5K

a/n: named after and inspired by the Ethel Cain song. I had a vision, blacked out, woke up to find about half of this written, then it took me two weeks to finish the rest 😔 Mostly because this is my first time writing smut! I hope it’s good as I’m still learning and trying to get the hang of it 😅!! This is lowkey also Nosferatu inspired but kinda of not? Idk, I hope you guys enjoy !!!

You don’t know how you found yourself out here. Alone in the dark, skin damp with sweat from the summer's humid and sticky air. Near an old dirt road, littered with flickering lightning bugs and the sounds of crickets singing throughout the tall grass and wheats. It was dead of night, when the only souls awake were creepers and those made of sin lurking within every shadow. The darkness surrounded you, covering you like a thick and heavy blanket under the night sky.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning and heels aching from how long you’ve been running. You could not even recall when you started running, so lost in your grief and guilt. At this point, you felt so far that you didn’t even care where you were going.

Adrenaline rushed through you, fighting and pushing back all the sadness and anger that wanted to burst up and out of your body. Your tears blinded you, eyes cast to the moon. You used her light as a beacon of hope, following and chasing its end for any kind of safety. Maybe it was the hot summer breeze, or simply your body burning from running for so long, but you swore you felt her rays cast a kind of warmth upon your skin.

You stared into the sky, combing through stars and clouds. Searching the high heavens for any kind of answer to where it was you were going. Distracted, dazed, and mind foggy, it all happened so fast. Just a second ago you were upright, head tilted high and unaware of the earth around you. But suddenly, it all came crashing into you at once. As if the world knew you were lost, it placed a rock in your path. You stepped on it without looking, only noticing when a sharp and jagged pain made its way through the sole of your foot.

It made you fall, sending you flying through the air and landing onto the hard dirt floor. Pebbles and sharp sticks scrapped against the palms of your hands and knees, leaving the ache of parted skin and seeping blood in their path as you caught yourself.

You groaned, cussing out loud at the sudden fall. Your limbs were spread everywhere, cheek and forehead now resting against the ground and having scrapes of their own from the fall. Time had suddenly stopped, the wind no longer brushing your cheeks and the moon nowhere in sight. The realization sent a wave of panic through you.

Your body begged for rest, but the pounding of your heart and mind yelled at you to keep moving. “I have to keep going,” you mumbled to yourself, quickly curling and lifting your body up until you sat on your knees. “I need to keep going.” The harsh burn of your lungs had finally caught up to you, leaving you dizzy and tired. You tried to collect yourself, to set your mind back into running but all that managed to come from it was the word where.

Where were you going?

The thought made everything stop. Your heart slowed its pounding, your breath began to steady, and the faint ache you felt in your heart exploded like a thousand tiny suns inside your chest.

What was your plan? You had run from home. Jumped out the window without a penny or scrap of clothing and didn’t think to look back. You just ran, fighting the feelings and consequences that now caught up to you in the middle of nowhere. Miles from home, you felt all the sadness and frustration you held on a tight leash being to break.

Your mama never understood, your papa didn’t care. No one else in the small town which you came from ever listened to you, they didn’t even want to look at you. So why did you run thinking they would come chasing? You thought they would send out the dogs. Wake every young man and boy to come looking for you when your mama realized you were no longer in bed. But the hours passed and you’ve heard no barks, no shouts of your names and haven’t even seen a single oil lamp since you left home. How foolish you are.

It all came crashing down and out at once. The sadness, the anger, and frustration that had been building up in your chest for years. It wracked into your body all at once, sending you crashing back down into the dirt with heavy sobs and whimpers. You were alone, always had been. But here, in the middle of a wheat field on a hot summer night, it was the first time you truly felt it.

Alone. The word rang like a bell throughout your body, twisting and digging itself deeper into the wound of your heart. A pain that had been there for so long and finally began to fester, infecting the rest of your body until it physically hurt.

God, you’d been lonely for so long now, haven't you?

As a girl, you remember praying for a friend. Someone to come and love and treat you like you were wanted. Someone to sweep you off of your feet, who would ride with you into the sunset for a happily ever after. Back then, you had so much faith in God. How delighted you felt to sit upon your bed and stare out into the night sky every single night. To softly clasp your hands together and talk to the Almighty. To whisper about your day and wants, hoping that he would answer, show you that he truly loved and listened to you. The years went by and you never made a friend, no one ever made you feel wanted. You prayed harder, begging to the point of tears for any kind of sign. But it never came. No one ever did. Not even God wanted you.

You haven't prayed in years. The desire to beg and pray to something you could not feel or see went away long ago. And yet, here, under the silver light of the moon, you felt yourself grasping onto any scraps of faith that were left in your body. Your hands began to clench together and your lips began to tremble. You were desperate, searching and clinging onto any kind of comfort the action brought to you.

To who or what you prayed to– you did not care. As long as someone or something answered.

“Please,” you whimpered like an injured dog,”Anyone.”

“Come to me…” You whispered into the darkness, words so faint you could hardly hear them over the sniffles of your nose.

“Come to me,” You began to beg over sobs., whimpering the words over and over again between gasps. “Anyone… just save me. Show me I am loved.” Fat tears fell onto the earth as you bent over to place your head onto the dirt. All that you were is now gone, and all that's left is a scared little girl begging for a friend.

In your desperation, you hadn’t a clue what you were calling for. Never believed in those dark spirits your mama and aunties warned you to be weary about. You did not know what was in the darkness and unknown. What it was that waited in the shadows. Had you known what would show up you would have never uttered the words.

Out of all the prayers you ever muttered or begged, why did God choose to answer this one?

Of all the things to bring you, why him?

☆

Minutes passed and exhaustion began to eat away at you. Sleep gnawed at your eyes and made you yawn, not caring about where you were. You stayed hunched over and on your knees, as still as a rock laying in wait. Tears still fell onto your cheeks, the feeling of hopelessness eating away at you.

You were sure you were going to die, letting your own misery and body eat away at itself until you were nothing but a shell. The only thing you could think of doing was to wallow in your shame and sadness, all you could focus on were the thoughts that ran through your mind. You were so lost within yourself you did not even realize that there was a man now standing next to you.

The sudden sound of the tall grass rustling made you look up, and the sight that you were met with made your blood go cold and had you jumping to collect yourself.

He was pale, skin sweaty and glowing under the moonlight. His body was strong, compact and lined with soft muscles and broad shoulders. A white and blue striped button up clung to his body, suspenders coming from beneath his trousers and a glimmer of light caught on the necklace wrapped around his neck. His arms and body were bent in a surrendered position, palms away from his sides as if to show you he meant no harm. Your heart pounded from the fright his presence suddenly gave you.

You hadn’t heard footsteps at all. Even in your state you surely would have heard the loud footsteps of a man his size. You almost blamed it on the loud chattering of crickets and cicadas, but when you listened you found that you heard none. As if the earth went silent, put on pause by the looming presence of the man before you.

You looked up at him, still on the dirt floor. His face was strong, but with a kind of edged softness that made him seem less threatening. A soft half smile lingered on his lips, parted like he was waiting for you to ask something so he could reply. You didn’t, not yet. Did not know what to say. You were alone with a white man in the middle of a wheat field, in the dead of night– what could you even say?

The moonlight revealed him to you. Every fold and curve of his body, each wrinkle and twitch, you could see it all. All but his eyes. They were shrouded in darkness, a void of light and hidden beneath the shadows of his own face. It all felt wrong, too strange to be normal.

Sweat dripped from your forehead as chills began to run up your spine. The sadness you were feeling was now long gone, fear creeping in slowly to take its place. You felt your mouth open, lips parting and searching for any words to say, but none came out. All you could muster up was the first thing that came to your mind.

“What’s a man doin’ out here…this late at night?” You managed to stutter out, voice hushed but loud enough for him to hear from the distance between you two. They were not the smartest words to say, but it was all you could manage to spit out . The hairs on your arm stood on their ends as you felt him look you up and down.

The half smile of his lips formed a sly grin, and the sound of a chuckle escaped him. “It ain’t nun for you to worry ‘bout right now, darlin.” His voice and words were as smooth as honey. Velvet like and with a deep grumble that made you shiver. His words had no malice, in fact he said them as softly as a lover. “Was just walkin’ ‘round when I saw the path in the grass, followed it out here.” He began to step closer, as slow as a wolf stalking its prey. “What’s a sweet girl like you doin’ out here, all alone, at this hour? Hmmn?”

Concern and kindness dripped in every word he spoke. He slowly bent down towards you, sitting on his haunches a meer foot away. You stared at him, holding in your breath. No man was ever this kind, such a thing didn’t exist. You followed every motion of his body, studying him and trying so hard to peer into his eyes. He was so close now, every dimple of his face and curl of his hair so close, merely a breath away.

You should be terrified, start screaming and trying to defend yourself. Never talk to someone you don’t know, your mama always said. But he didn’t feel like a stranger, no. Despite the unease you felt being around him, he carried an air of comfort. A type of welcoming softness that made you want to spill all your secrets to him if he said the word. He looked like the type of man you woulda begged your mama to let you marry. He was rugged, hands thick and scarred from whatever labor he did. The sight of him made you shiver, in ways that were both good and bad. God, he was so close. When did he creep closer?

“C’mon now… tell me what happened to ya, dove.” His hand was brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear that glistened atop your cheek. And that was it, the breaking point. With a single stroke, your fate was sealed the moment he touched you and spoke those words. It all came tumbling out from your lips. Incoherent and almost all mumbled together, the sobs that you had once stopped all came back from his kind words that were more than your poor and fragile heart could handle.

“Mama and papa, they- they wanted to marry me to that ugly ugly man!” Tears began to blur your vision once more and your dusty bloody hands came to wipe them away. “He’s already had three wives. Beat all of ‘em senseless and left nasty bruises for the world to see after he took ‘em to bed. Then they all died in childbirth, along with the babies who were too big to even come out and take their first breaths… Oh those poor babies, sir.” You hiccuped between every sentence, struggling to catch your breath.

“I don’t want that.. I couldn’t have that, I-i could never,” You leaned into his presence, “No one ever helped me, they never understood. I did what I had to, I swear.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, begging for any sign of understanding from him. Your cries steadied, the wave of immense guilt washing over you like a tide once you said the words aloud. Like a chain snapping free. You began to mutter something more, but he quickly shushed you.

His hands came up to cup your face, holding you as delicate as a flower. “Shh, It’s alright, it’s alright darlin’. You won’t need to be dealin’ with all ‘at any longer. I’m here, okay?” He holds your cheeks in his hands, face lining up with his. He was so close, you could feel your breaths mingling. His warmth seeped into you, deep into you as you stared into the dark void of his eyes. So dark, they practically absorbed all the light they came into contact with. They were as cold as an unforgiving winter, older and more rotten than everything you’ve ever seen before.

It should have scared you, made you want to run and hide in the ends of the earth. But it didn’t.

“I don’t know what to do now, sir.” You whispered, suddenly feeling so shy under his gaze.

“T’s alright. I’m here, I’m here.” His voice was so low, you could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke. It sent tingles up your spine and down between your legs. It was like a siren song, pulling you under the tide and sweeping you away. “I’ve come, I’m here. I’m all you need, you’re all I need.” The words come out like a mantra, repeating them over and over like he was trying to convince himself what he said was true.

He leaned in closer, placing his forehead against yours. You sighed and closed your eyes at the gesture, feeling his hands begin to wander down to your neck. Something about his hands so close to you made you want to run, to flee and escape the false sense of security you undoubtedly fell for. But you’d rather any false touch than return to the reality of what faced you outside of this moment.

“You just needa feel good, sugar. I can make you feel good.” His tone was dripping with seduction now, each word feeling so sensual you weren’t sure if it was real. He shuts his mouth, moving in closer before placing his lips atop your cheeks, giving them soft butterfly kisses. Your eyes shut, lashes fluttering at the sweet sensation. You surrendered yourself to this unknown sweetness, not knowing it would damn you for all eternity. He kisses down your face, towards your neck, hands angling your neck back to expose more of the sensitive flesh.

You feel his hands wander your body, gripping and searching for more exposed skin. And when he could not find any, his fingers made their way to the buttons on your blouse and began undoing them. His mouth latched onto your neck, leaving soft bites and long kisses along the base as he made his way further down. Your breath hitched at the sensation, a tiny whimper escaping from your throat and your hands came up to grip his shoulders. An attempt to ground yourself to earth, to this moment that felt like heaven hath come at last.

Your body felt like it was on fire, hotter than any summer sun could make you feel. You were burning from the inside out, whimpering like a dog in heat when his hands exposed your chest to the soft night breeze. Ripping the fabric of your blouse, he squeezed the soft flesh of your bare breast. His calloused hands squeezed hard, fingers pinching at your nipple in such an achingly sweet way all you could do was arch your back. You wanted more, your body practically begged for it. You needed it.

Your heart was pounding, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He held you like if you were going to disappear in an instant, mouth stuck on you and kissing and licking all the flesh he could find.

You threw your head back, arms going limp as you surrendered yourself to the sweet pleasure he brought you. Flimsy scraps of clothing was all that separated you two from being flesh to flesh. Your soft moans and his groans filled the air, a symphony of damned and doomed souls not caring to hide this open, raw, and filthy desire.

His mouth went further down, kissing along your collarbones and shoulders. His hand came back to your neck, holding it and craning it so you could still see him from the corners of your eye. His lips part from your skin, eyes looking up to search for yours. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, the bewildered and bewitched look in his eyes sent goose pimples rising all over your body. A wolfish grin formed after he took and savored the vision of your surrender.

“I’ll try not to make it hurt.” He slowly whispered, diving back down to the junction of your shoulder and neck. By the time you realized what he said, it was already too late. A sharp and searing pain struck you, sending your body writhing and thrashing against him. You gasped, his soft grip had turned to iron as he pinned you down. You tried to cry, to scream, to fight and push him off but it was no use. You got yourself into this mess, how were you going to get out?

Stupid, stupid girl! The words your mother and father had screamed to you your whole life came rushing back to you. The little life you had lived flashed before your eyes, memories of being a girl and growing up. Soaking in the summer sun, hot meals on cold winter nights. Was this truly it? You felt the sticky liquid of blood begin to drip down your neck, sharp teeth biting and sinking into you. The man beside you groans into your skin, and you realize that this was it.

You couldn’t even cry anymore, the exhaustion of your mind and body finally hitting you. This was it. Your sins had caught up to you and this was your punishment. You stopped fighting the moment you realized no one was coming to save you. God hadn’t come. Even at the end of your life, he sent no one to save you.

Or maybe, he had. Maybe this cruel man sucking on your skin was really the angel of death. The sweet release he brought was your salvation. Lead you in with the feelings you always wanted to feel, the soft touch you always craved. Words were lost to you, but for some odd reason you wanted to thank the man. For ending your life, freeing you from the misery that shackled you onto this earth. But you felt so weak, so tired and just wanted to sleep. So you brought your hand to his cheek, your dirty bloody hand.

You caressed the side of his face, looking down at him as if you understood. He looked up at the sudden touch and met your gaze. And for a second, he stopped. His mouth parted from your skin, and he raised his head to meet yours once more. Shock seemed to choke him, making him forget what it was that he had been doing to gaze into your soul.

The moonlight glimmered and reflected in your eyes, all the sweetness your heart had left pouring out of them. You looked at him as if he had hung the stars, and in the darkness of his heart he felt a kernel of hope ignite. Familiarity, love, and something so old and forgotten that it no longer had a name struck him all at once– you could see the regret in his face. But it was too late. He began to mutter out some words, muddled as his grip fell soft once more and he tried to keep your eyes open. But it was no use. You shut them a few seconds later, succumbing to the darkness and exhaustion of your body, hoping to be far from this world when you opened your eyes.

But when you woke up, you were still here on earth. Still in that wheat field with your face in the ground with bloody hands and knees. It was around midday, when you felt a young man shaking you awake and pouring water down your throat. The summer sun had already burned your skin, making it feel tight and tender from how long you had been laying in it. Your memories flooded

back to you the instant you opened your eyes. You looked around frantically, heart pounding and breathing so heavily that the boy had to help calm you down. He explained how he found you, alone, saw no sign or trace of anyone else being here. You could’ve easily chosen to believe him–fall into a fantasy that the night was nothing but a dream. But the aching bruise and scar of teeth marks across your shoulder and breast made you remember it was real. His face, his hands, the tender kisses he gave you before he almost bled you to death. Even the look he gave you just before you passed out– all real.

You shook in terror, desperately trying to tell the young man your story. Unintelligible mumbles fell from your lips, he simply looked at you with understanding and gentle eyes. “It’s okay, Miss. How ‘bout we get you cleaned up and somewhere safe first?” Was all he said in response, quickly lifting you up and taking you away before you could say another word.

You may have still been alive, breathing and blinking, but you knew that some part of you had died in that field. Marked for death and damned to hell, you knew he would come back for you.

☆

5 years have gone by since that night. Your body grew into itself and the bruises healed, leaving only a faded scar behind. Your face was fuller, mind and soul grown into a woman that had finally made a place in the world for herself. You grew out of your timidness, taking what you wanted before anyone could steal it from you.

You found a home in a town west from where you had run from, living with an elderly woman who paid you to clean her home and keep her company. You made the young boy who found you your lover as well, snatched him up and made him promise to you that he’d never leave. He gave you a silver ring to place on your finger 2 years after being together. You finally had somewhere you belonged. You didn’t feel lonely anymore.

And after that night, you never allowed yourself to be. Never once let yourself wallow in pity or crawl back into the dark hole that led you here in the first place. But on the rare occasion when you would slip up and let the shadows creep in, you could feel him.

Shivers crept up your spine and made your hair stand each time you looked outside during the night. He followed where you went, stalked and waited for the day he could finally take you for his own once more. You could often feel him call you outside, singing a sweet melody meant for only you to hear. Sometimes you swore that the scar would begin to ache. Feeling like it would rip itself open and spill blood all over again, inviting him to come and finish the job.

You knew what he was. A Vampire. A blood sucking demon. A human soul cursed and trapped inside of a dying body forever. Unable to walk in the sun, their hearts turning darker and more rotten with each passing year their bodies stayed on this earth.

The old woman you lived with was superstitious, her house full of herbs and smelling of incense. She had been the one to tell you all of this. She knew secrets and the way the world worked. She would cast and brew spells that warded off evil every other moon. You liked to think that she kept you safe with them. Believed that she was the one that held him back from coming to you.

“If he had continued drinking, you would be one too.” She had once said, spilling the words over breakfast like it was nothing. But to you, they were everything.

The words kept you up at night. Consuming your mind and every waking moment for weeks with the questions of What if? Was that the fate that awaited you? If he turned you, would your heart stop beating or would you still be able to feel its phantom pulse in your chest? How lonely was eternity? Were you ready to face it? At the time, they were all useless questions. Outlandish scenarios you convinced yourself would never come to fruit.

But now, the old lady was dead. Her spells and magic were gone. The protection and security the woman brought to you had vanished.

You confided in your lover with your worries, and he called you mad. He grew distant, never made love or kissed you anymore. You clung onto the scraps he gave you, convincing yourself it was all fine. Until one night, when he got up and left. You found out from the townsfolk he stole a case of booze and ran off. He took that silver ring with him too.

You spent the past few years building a life, then it all came crashing down on you.

You started to feel like the girl in the field again. Cold and shivering. So lost and scared in a world that failed you time and time again.

Were you truly destined to be alone?

Your heart sunk into your chest, falling deep into the pit of your stomach, when something else began to take its place. Something so old and forgotten that it began to creep and crawl out of your throat, plaguing you with a truth you had been denying yourself of all along.

You tried not to think about the way you cried and begged God to bring you someone who could love you. Made it a point to not even think about it. Embarrassed by the fact you felt so desperate enough to confide in Him. But for a long time, you truly believed it was your lover. You thought him to be heaven made, sent for you. His careful and sweet touch was just what you thought you needed. “He will never leave, he will always be here.” Words you would repeat over and over to soothe yourself. But he ended up leaving like you meant nothing to him.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore. The light was gone and the darkness stared at you dead in the eye. What you thought all those years ago was true then. That man who bit your neck and breast, the reason behind the scars and fear you carried with you all those years. He hadn’t marked you for death, he marked you as his.

☆

You were always weak to your impulses. Ruling your body with feeling over logic. You did what felt right in the moment, not caring for the consequences. And now, at your most tired and lonesome, you weren’t going to make an exception.

It was summer once more, and the familiarity of it all came rushing to you. Hot, humid air blew in the wind. The heat that had seeped into the earth during the day now rose up to greet the night, the sun's lingering presence not giving you a moment of peace. Every window of the house was open, welcoming the slight breeze that rustled the leaves outside. You sat on a pillow by the front door, leaning against the frame. You fanned yourself with a makeshift paper fan and breathed so slowly for fear of sweating if you moved too fast. You stared out into the sky, watching the last light of the sun fade away and dip into the earth before the stars came out to shine.

Pink and blue hues began to color the world as the sun winked its final light, making a sudden pang of loneliness pull on your heartstrings. You had decided what you were going to do earlier that day. Felt no remorse or regret. But still, the sadness began to creep in and surprise you. Of all the things you could be feeling– fear, shame, or guilt– sadness was all that came to mind. Sadness and the worn out feeling of spending years waiting and molding yourself into what others wanted you to be. You changed and broke apart pieces of yourself to fit into a narrative that wasn’t even yours. Only for it to all crumble away within a month. You had nothing left to lose anymore.

With a deep breath, you reached into your heart. Clung onto the desperation and small scrap of faith still hidden deep within your soul, and whispered the words you hadn’t dared to utter in years.

“Come to me.”

He didn’t take long to respond to your call. You closed your eyes only for a few seconds, and when you opened them, there he was. Walking through the tall grass, coming from the trees like he had been waiting for you to call. He walked like he owned the very ground he stepped on, purpose in his slow stride. The moon was out by now, shining in her full glory. She illuminated his path towards you, as if she knew where he belonged and led him there herself.

He looked the same as he did in your dreams. Wearing the same thin cotton button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and unbuttoned at the top of his chest, exposing a dark colored tank top underneath and a gold necklace that clung onto his neck. He seemed disheveled, hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. Sweat dripped from his forehead, skin damp and making his clothes stick to his skin. Every curve and muscle contoured, you could see it all.

He walked right up and onto the porch, the wood creaking and whining beneath him as he slowly made his way to the door. A smirk painted his lips when he saw you looking at him. So frightened, like a little lamb who called for her mother and instead ended up with a wolf at her door. Just as beautiful as when he’d last seen you.

“Took you long enough, darlin.” His voice sounded just as sweet as you remembered. As gravely and thick as sugar. Your blood went cold at the sound.

He was here. Truly here. Most nights you wondered if the light stubble of his chin and the soft expression of his eyes were things you had imagined, made up on the long nights you would think of him– but they weren’t. He was just how you remembered him, how you dreamed him. You weren’t sure what to say. You spent countless times imagining how this meeting would go. And here you were, mouth gone dry and at a loss for words.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” You managed to rasp out, voice catching and cracking slightly as you looked up at him. You were still sitting on the floor of the house, body curling into itself in response to your now pounding heart.

That made him grin, “Now how could I ever resist you? Sweetest thing I’ve ever had,” He looked right into your soul, stripping you bare with just a glance, as he said the words. His eyes roamed over your body, tracing your curves over the thin nightgown you wore. “Sweetest thing to look at, couldn’t stay away. Wanted to come and take ya sooner, but the ol’ witch knew how to keep me away from you.” His voice sounded so soft, so gentle. The kind of tone you’d use to call a pet out of a hiding spot. “It was torture.”

Shivers crawled up and down your spine, breath hitching and catching in your throat. He spoke the words so freely, so casually– like they weren’t dripping with sin. They made your back straighten, hands shake and stomach flutter. Had you been any smarter, you would have run inside, Locked the doors and shut the windows, waited him out until your own death came for you. But it was already here though, wasn’t it? Standing right in front of you with a smirk, ready to eat you right up.

You knew that what he said was fake. A show and act put on and practiced to perfection just for you. It should've made you cower, rethinking your decision and push him away. But all you could think about was how it’s been so long since you last heard such sweet words. Spoken by a man who knew what he wanted, like he needed and craved you so badly he was starving.

“You’ve been waitin’ for me too though, haven’t you sugar?” He hums, cocking his head to the side and swaying closer to the door. “Jus’ finally worked up the courage to ask for it.” He bends down, meeting you eye to eye. A large and almost nasty smirk decorticated his lips, flashes of teeth showing that made a cold sweat drip down your neck.

“I know you thought about me every night.” His voice lowered, gaze darkening. The cold void of his eyes caught the light of the oil lamp hung above your door, consuming all its warmth. You could see yourself in the reflection, all wide eyed and pale with fear. “I did too, dreamt of you.” He got on his hands and knees, inching and crawling closer towards you.

Something told you that he enjoyed it. “How I wished I could touch you again,” he groaned, the sound coming from deep within him. He reached out to touch you, hand shaking in excitement. His fingers came close to your cheek, the tips right about to graze the soft skin, before he flinched away. A hiss leaves him, shaking his hand and bearing his teeth from the sudden pain. If you listened closely, you swore you could hear a faint sizzle.

Ah, right.

You had forgotten about that rule. The most important rule the old woman told you about his kind. He couldn’t touch you, not while you were inside of the house. Vampires weren’t allowed to enter homes unless invited. Weren’t allowed to cross the threshold and take everything that they wanted, when they wanted. To him, it was a minor setback. To you, you thought it was some kind of divine protection. At least, just for a moment. A few more minutes to live, time to muster up the courage and ask what you had been aching to for all those years. You would let him in sooner than later.

He chuckles, lip curling back to flash the fangs of his teeth as he begins to soothe his hand. “You gon’ let me in or not, baby?” He says it inbetween a whiny little laugh, almost whimpering. The cool collectedness of his voice was starting to slip, pulling back to reveal a type of growing and longing desperation. The sound made your heart stutter, stomach leap, you don’t think you were supposed to hear it. “I came all this way.”

The way his eyes softened, lip pouting and body begging to hunch over, made you want to believe him. Take every word he says and let it fill your fragile little heart with the illusion that he loved you. Made you want to say the words that will ruin what was left of your life. You had to take a long, deep breath to collect yourself.

“Not yet.” You reply softly, meeting his pleading gaze.

You turned to sit up on your knees, mirroring his own position. Your back was straight in contrast to his, head shaking as you tried to muster up the little strength left inside of you to fight off the fear that crawled all over you. You were so close to the door, hands almost slipping across that invisible line he couldn't move past.

So much time, so days and hours spent wondering what this meeting would be like. He had taken over your mind, your body, your very soul since that first night. He knew how to lure you out. His sweet words and voice, seduction rolling off of his tongue like syrup. Yet, looking at him now. Bent over, almost begging to have you– it may be what will break you.

God, you wanted it so badly. To have that taste of delicious sin. Feel the high of life before crashing and plummeting to your death. Feel his hands roam and touch your body, lips pressing against your skin. Your very being ached for it.

But you couldn’t. Would not allow yourself to give into the pleasures you had longed for. Not after you spent years wondering over the reason you’re still here, the reason you even called him again. Your life, your death.

You leaned in closer to the door, hands touching the warm wood below you. Eyes slanting, seducing him back as you asked, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

You dragged the words out, making sure he heard each one. Soft and slow, like a blade against skin, cutting deep. You stared into his eyes, making sure you didn’t leave his sight. Though the longer you looked, you swore you felt a warmth grow inside of their relentless cold.

He blinked, brows furrowing at the words. Startled and taken aback, he leaned away from you ever so slightly. As if he had never expected you to ask that. In the perfected and practiced scenario of his mind, he never thought it a possibility. He almost looked hurt, face slowly falling and the polished act had begun to slip away. You hit a nerve. One you did not even know existed.

“You had me in your palm. I was willin’, I was ready.” You continued when he did not answer, “I still am.” You inch closer, your turn to crawl to him. To the beast outside of your door. “What changed?”

If you were the lamb, and he the wolf– why did he looked absolutely terrified all of us sudden? Petrified. His eyes widened, staring at you.Trying to look right through you and your intentions. Like you found out something only he knew. He scrambled for a response, trying to figure out the game you began to play.

“When you taste something so sweet, wouldn’t you wanna savor it?” He whispers through nervous chuckles.

You frowned at his response. He was lying to you. You didn’t want anymore lies. You didn’t think that you deserved them. How much longer were you supposed to follow his rules, play his games. Even at the end of your life, as you handed yourself to him on a silver platter, why could he not just say things plainly?

“Don’t lie to me.” Annoyance and ire begin to bubble.

“Not now. Not anymore,” But the feelings fell away as fast as they came, revealing and leaving you with the tiredness you’ve felt all along. “Please.” You whimpered, not wanting to fight for it anymore.

The words fade into the night, leaving the two of you in silence. Lightning bugs flutter and flickered their lights in the darkness. Crickets string their song in the tall grass and in a nearby tree, a lone mourning dove sings.

You weren’t sure for how long you were like that. On your hands and knees, looking and begging at him to tell you the truth. While his eyes pleaded and begged for you to grant him mercy. Both merely an inch apart, separated by a door frame and three little words.

You had always thought that vampires didn’t have hearts. That there was only a rotten and empty shell inside of their chest where a heart must have been instead. So, why could you hear his pounding? His chest rose and fell as he attempted to steady the relentless beat, but it would not stop thumping. Not while you were in front of him, not while you looked at him like that.

You supposed that he never understood or grasped his own desperation for you until now. Didn’t know or acknowledge just how badly he wanted you. How could he resist you? The second you called, he came crawling. He’d crawl for miles if you asked.

“You wanna know why I couldn’t kill you?” He speaks suddenly, voice sounding like a shout in the silence. “Why I couldn’t finish it?” He gulps, inching back to you. The desperation was still there, but he made it his own. He stared you down as you did him, and you could see that he was just as done with games as you were. You nod lightly, pursing your lips shut. He rises from his position, sitting back on his knees to tower over you.

“Caue of that..” He takes a deep breath. “Cause of that damned look you gave me.” He sighs, almost embarrassed to admit it.

The words confused you, sending you down a spiral of questions in your mind. He answers them before you can even ask.

“The look you gave me, right before ya fell asleep.” Ah.

You had forgotten that. Forgotten the way you thought he was your savior and looked at him like so. Like he hung the stars, like he was the first person to have ever loved you. With a mouth and face full of blood, you thought that the angel of death was sent to collect you. You would’ve never have thought to see your angel begging for you outside of your door.

“No one’s looked at me like that. Not for a long time. Made me realize something. The reason I was able to feel you, to know you needed me.” The words sent a chill down your spine, and you felt your cheeks heat. Your breath caught, eyes widening and you saw him reach his hand towards you once more.

“You’re mine darlin’. You’ve been mine for longer than you’ve known.” His fingertips brushed against your cheek, caressing the skin so lightly you weren’t even sure that he was. “You feel like sunlight.” Passion and defeat dripped in every word he spoke. He knew what it was he felt, he didn’t need to convince himself of it anymore.

You’re sure that you heart was trying to escape from your chest. Pounding at your ribs, sending all the blood of your body to your head and face. You felt your hands shake, knees wobbling and every inch of you felt like it was burning. So hot, the summer heat and his touch only made you feel hotter. Your mouth went dry, and your eyes still hadn’t left his.

He told the truth. The whole hearted, raw and bloodied truth. The rot and cold in his eyes fell away, and beneath it just lay a man. He looked so human.

“How could I kill the one thing that feels like sunlight?” He whispered so softly. You felt your chest and something so deep inside of you begin to ache at the words.

His hand wiped a stray tear you didn't even know had fallen. And just like before, your fate was sealed with just one touch and a few sweet words.

You knew what awaited you if you let him in. The death that you’re sure would’ve still followed even after this. Yet, you did not care. You’ve been waiting for each other for a long time now. Longer than either of you could recall. You needed him, the same way he needed you. Even in life, even in death.

“Come to me.” You whispered once more, and the spell keeping you from him broke.

He crawled to you like a starved man, ready to pounce and devour the feast set before him.

He kissed you so fast, so desperately, it took a second for you to realize that his lips were on yours.

At the taste of you, a deep groan escaped him. You felt pure, sweet, just like before. Tasting like a sweet summer wine made just for him to devour. It had his head spinning, arms wrapping around your back to pull you against him. Holding your body close, feeling and groping all he could to make sure you were real.

You felt your heart pound faster than before, surely making its way through your skin and out of your chest by now. You could feel it leap out of you, along with all sense and reason.

From the way he kissed you, the way his hands wandered and linger over your body, you knew he meant to devour. Could feel the way he meant to consume your very heart and soul from the inside out. Your body and mind surrendered into his touch, having been no longer yours since the second he came crawling back to you. You felt your knees ache, shaking and going numb from the surge of pleasure that began to spread throughout your body.

He was the spark that reignited an old flame deep inside of you. One that had died out the second your old lover left you.

You kissed him deeper, hands grasping at his arms like some kind of tether to the world. Holding you up and pulling you closer, chest to chest like you were trying to stick yourself onto him.

They wandered up, feeling and caressing the soft muscles of his shoulders beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He felt like fire in the summer heat, burning you with every graze.

Your hands soon find purchase in his hair. Fingertips running and combing through the soft locks, lightly grasping at small bunches. It tickled, sending shivers down his spine and forming goosebumps down his body from the way you pulled and clung onto him. It made his cock twitch.

He hummed, mouth parting from yours to let out a soft chuckle and moan. A small trail of spit clung onto both of your lips, connecting you for a second more before breaking off and dripping down your chest. You gasped for breath, chest heaving in time with his own— panting likes dogs. Breathing so heavily, it left you lightheaded. You didn’t know where he started and you ended anymore.

Waves of pleasure washed over you, crawling down your back and in between your thighs with the sweat that dampened your flesh. It made the fabric of your nightgown stick to you like a second skin, the feeling growing more uncomfortable and irritating by the second. It hugged your curves, bunching around your hips and thighs until it felt like you were being covered in heavier layers.

A whine left your throat, sweet and high pitched from the way you felt his hands begin to roam down your body. Feeling you up, caressing all the bare skin he could find until all that was left to touch was the thin fabric. Thick hands stopped at your thighs, playing with the ends of the dress, running calloused fingers across the soft sensitive tops and stopping right before the place where your thighs met.

You looked up at him, eyes pleading and begging him to undress you. To take you. Help you with the growing ache that grew in your cunt.

You swore you felt like you were going to die. Body shaking and searching for any type of release. All you could feel, see, hear, or even think of was him. The smooth, deep musk of his body filled your nose. He smelled like pinewood and salt, tasted like iron and whiskey. The low groans and moans that rose from within his chest shook you, the vibrations running down deeper than you would’ve thought they could.

He had barely begun to touch you, and you were already drunk off of his very being.

Thoughtlessly, your hips began to rut against the knee he had placed between your thighs. Having spread them and sat you over his lap when he began to kiss you. The fabric of his trousers was rough and coarse, but if you angled your hips a certain way— it felt like bliss. You grinded against his thigh, swaying back and forth as your fingers dug deep into the skin of his shoulders. Nail forming tiny crescent moons, trying to hold him still as you used him.

The feeling of it was electric, fire coursing and flowing through your veins with every move and touch. It was in your bones. So strong and consuming. You’ve never felt this way before.

If your mother could see you now, she’d damn you to hell twice over. Shout and call you words that a good church lady should never even know. It wouldn’t have mattered, couldn’t find it in you to care. You gave yourself to the devil long ago, ached for him to swallow you whole.

“Poor baby,” He teases breathlessly, a smirk making his way onto his lips at your display. “Really need me that much, do ya?” His lips were at your ear, licking and biting the shell softly. His hands came to your hips, gripping at them to stop your frantic movements.

You whined, but quickly nodded in response, all too eager. The reaction made him laugh, mouth moving down your cheek.

“T’s alright, I’m here to make you feel good.�� He whispered against your skin, before diving back in to kiss your lips.

It was softer this time. Slower, more tender. His head dipped into yours, lips meeting in a soft sweet peck. He closed his eyes, hands crawling back up your hips before gently laying you down. The hard wooden floor hit your back, the smoothness of the boards cold against your skin. Time seemed to slow down at the sudden softness of his actions, the pulsing want of your body burning down into soft embers.

He wanted to enjoy it now. Savor every bit and taste he took of you. No longer rushed, he realized you weren’t going anywhere.

He kissed along your mouth, wandering down slowly to your chin and softly to your neck. Your head tilted back, exposing the sensitive skin for him to breathe in. Your skin was salty, tongue darting out to taste and lick along the lines of your collarbones as he made his way closer and closer to the junction between your shoulder and neck. Your blood was pulsing, rushing and filling each part he dared to touch.

His hands roamed your waist, rising to grope at your breasts. He took them in his hands, feeling your heartbeat through the fat, before giving them a soft squeeze that had you moaning. Your back arched at the touch, and you had to bite your lip shut. Your nerves felt like frayed wires, everything a thousand times sensitive. Every feeling and sensation heightened in a way that had you reeling. You could feel the wetness between your thighs grow, legs starting to shake and wanting to rut against him once again.

His lips finally made their way to your shoulders, kissing every throbbing pulse point he could find. His teeth grazed your skin, lightly biting and sucking.

He left your chest, hands coming up to pull the flimsy straps of your night dress down. He yanked on the fabric, pulling it down so harshly that it ended up tearing right down the middle. Revealing your skin to the night breeze, your breasts and stomach clear for him to see.

On instinct, your arms moved swiftly in an attempt to cover up yourself. Embarrassment leaving your cheeks hot from the sudden exposure which came all too quick. He grabbed you by the wrists before you could even place a hand on yourself, a faux frown forming on his lips as he raised his head to look at you. Eyes wandering over your naked body, taking in every curve.

“Ain’t no hiding from me, sugar.” He whispered hoarsely, a possessive tone beneath the words.He placed your hands to your side with force. Keep them there.

“It's all mine anyways.”

He dove back in quickly, meeting your breasts again. His calloused fingers were rough against the soft and plush flesh. Your nipples hardened, aching for attention in the cold air. When he took note of them, he wasted no time. Pinching and flicking at the sensitive buds, you let out an almost whimper like moan. A whiny, needy, little noise that came from the back of your throat. The sound had his cock leaking with want.

He brought his mouth down, gently sucking one in between his lips. His tongue rolled over the bud, circling so softly it felt faint. Spit rolled down between the valley of your breasts as he moved onto the neglected one. He sucked just as softly, and you felt your desire leak.

You pulled at his clothes, trying to tear the wrinkled shirt off of him. You wanted him naked, skin bare and flush against yours. You needed to feel him. Craved his warmth. You clawed at him, hips bucking and back arching until he got the hint.

He raised himself up, messily undoing the buttons of the shirt before throwing it off and behind him. He glistened in the moonlight, the paleness of his skin glowing with the thin layer of sweat that clung to his skin. The sight of his broad shoulders and soft muscles made your skin crawl, hands going numb and pulling away. You stared at him dumbfoundedly, like he really did hang the moon and stars.

You had never really looked or took in the male form before. When your old lover would have you, your face was always stuffed in the pillows or pressed against his head. Blind to his body, you always pictured him clothed even when he was bare and pressed against you.

But now, looking up at this man, you realized why a woman would crave sin so badly. The way his muscles flexed with every move, the lines that contoured his chest and stomach— going all the down, down, down, to his hips. Your eyes lingered at the small patch of hair that trailed from his belly and disappeared from beneath his pants. The sight made your knees weak.

You squeezed your thighs, taking in a shaky breath. You met his eyes once more, and behind them saw a cool darkness. Focused, pupils red and burning with lust as he admired the sight of you.

He tore the remaining scraps of your nightgown, leaving you naked as the day you were born. Body free and open for only him to see, his eyes wandered and explored every part of you. Taking in every fold, every birthmark, dimple, and scar that littered your body.

His hands felt across your skin, squeezing and making their way across the smooth expanse so slowly. Down your thighs, up to your stomach, between your chest, caressing and worshiping every inch he touched. And where his hands went, so did his lips. He leaned his head down, kissing and licking his way up your body, savoring the taste and smell of desire that exuded off of you.

He came up so slowly, planting open mouth kisses across your collarbones and neck. Leaving a hot, wet trail behind. His lips smiled at every squirm and whimper that left you, mouth coming to bite and kiss your puffy lips.

Deep and harsh, you felt his tongue push past and into your mouth. Drool and saliva dripped from the corners, smudging over your cheeks and falling onto your chest. It had you gripping at his shoulders, gasping for breath with every break of your lips. Your cheeks felt so hot, like a fever has come down on you. He parted for a few seconds , breathing in the air you exhaled, before you felt a sharp sting at your bottom lip.

You winced, eyes blinking shut and brows furrowing at the sudden pain. A dullness spread throughout your skin, and suddenly the taste of iron and a thick substance melts into your mouth. Blood.

Your eyes opened, searching for his own to find him looking right at you. A smirk decorated his lips, blood smeared all over him like it was rouge. The deep crimson color was stark against his skin, shining in the light as you looked at him. The sight made a small sense of panic crawl up your back, pleasure starting to slowly to creep away.

He seemed to notice, quickly moving back into you

and sucking at the small puncture wound he created. He groaned, hips grinding against your core as he kissed you harder. You could feel his hard throb against your thigh, a small wet patch forming where the head rested. The action made all doubt melt away.

You shuttered, body going limp in his arms.

“That’s right,” he slurs against you, “Just let me handle it, yeah?” His voice was soft, almost reassuring as you felt him push away. His hands grabbed at your thighs, strong hands gripping the flesh as he parted them slowly. “Let me take care of you.”

He slid down your body, lips kissing and mouthing along your skin once more. He left small bites and a faint trail of blood everywhere he touched. You arched into the sensation. He went lower than before, kissing down your stomach onto your pubic bone before he was face to face with your cunt.

He laid his head between your thighs, hands holding the flesh of where your thigh and ass met in an iron grip. He moaned by simply looking at you. You could feel his burning gaze, closely watching the way your arousal and pleasure dripped out of you.

You wanted to close your legs shut from embarrassment, a whimper leaving you as you felt his breath on the wetness that coated your folds. You bucked your hips, incoherent pleas and whiny little begs leaving your mouth.

Your movement only made his grip tighten. His brows furrowed, sending you a glare.

He tuts, playfully shaking his head and scolding you like a child. “If you can’t wait, I won’t do it at all.” He threatens, voice dripping with lies. God he wanted you. Craved you. He believed that if he went one more second without tasting the sweetness of your cunt he was sure he was going to die.

“No, please,” You immediately begin to beg, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You stutter over your words, head shaking and eyes glistening with tears as you look down at him. “Please.”

He grins in amusement at the display, watching you squirm beneath him. He took it in, all your desperation and neediness. The way you still slightly bucked your hips into him, your fingers gripping and clawing at the wood beneath you.

You were right under his thumb. All his.

“Mmn, good girl.” He whispers huskily, softly nodding his head before leaning in to kiss your cunt. It was a small, faint peck. But the touch had your head dipping back with pleasure.

His hand came around, rubbing two fingers over your lips. He gathered your wetness, smearing the stickiness all over before parting your folds. He spread you open, fingers caressing and exploring the tender skin before dipping down to tease your hole. The feeling had you shivering, a pathetic little whine escaping your throat as you felt his fingers suddenly push inside of you.

Thick and long, his digits filled you up entirely. Your cunt clenched around them, gushing when he entered you. Your eyes squeezed shut, softs gasps escaping your lips at the feeling. He filled you so sweetly, almost entirely.

You were so tight. Hole aching and throbbing around him. Heat spread over your body, pleasure filling and taking over every thought and sensation as he touched you.

You could feel your wetness drip out of you and onto his skin, a light squelching noise coming from between your thighs as he began to thrust in and out of you. Your face went hot, almost going lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling.

Deep and soft, his fingers curled and stretched you out. Loosening you up, pulling you apart and picking you back up again. They touched and prodded at your sweet spot, teasing you like he already knew you from the inside out.

Your gasps got louder, turning into soft breathy moans. Your hips began chasing his touch, trying to keep up and follow his pace for more.

His mouth latched onto your clit, tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. Sucking and licking at it so softly that each flick sent a chill crawling up your back. You arch, nipples hardening and sweat dripping down your skin as you try so hard not to close your thighs.

He lapped at your arousal hungrily, licking up all that flowed out if you like one would to a melting ice cream cone. He moaned into your cunt with each taste.

He drank it all up, fingers curling and beckoning more of that sweetness out of you. It was like the tastiest honey, dripping and flowing just for him. You were sweeter than any human blood could be, more addictive than any booze or drug. He couldn’t get enough.

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling at his locks in a sad attempt to pull him away. But you were too weak, muscles having gone numb the second you felt him suck on your bundle of nerves. He took all your strength, taking it for himself as well as every other thought that filled your head.

You ended up pulling him closer to you, hand guiding him into a smooth rhythm as he continued to eat you out.

It almost felt like a dance, the way he loved. He would start off soft and slow, fingers and mouth lapping and thrusting into you like he was the world's sweetest lover. Kissing and touching all your sweet spots, whimpering against your skin like he had wanted nothing else in the world.

Only to switch it up suddenly. Start sucking so harshly that you could feel the pleasure in your fingertips. Fingers thrusting so fast you could feel yourself spill over his palm, that nasty wet sound getting louder until you were crying from embarrassment. Tears stained your cheeks as you moaned in pleasure with each movement.

His movements were unpredictable, slowing and speeding whenever he felt like it. He took in every moan and shake of your body, greedily trying to pull out as much as he could.

It was beginning to feel like too much. The way his hand gripped at your skin, pulling you closer so he could taste you deeper. His nails were digging in so deep you swore you felt the skin puncture, small droplets of blood forming at the tiny tears.

His mouth and chin were wet, dripping with your desire. He would hardly part from you, only doing so to take in a deep breath and dive back in. He groaned and moaned loudly into your cunt, the vibrations settling deep inside of you. His eyes were closed in bliss, brows furrowed in concentration as he continued his assault.

Pleasure began to boil over, a burning sensation filling your chest and lower abdomen. Waves lapped at your core, beckoning you to fall apart and let go. You felt your body shake, hips desperately chasing his mouth for relief.

You clench around his fingers, back arching and fingers pulling at his soft locks in an attempt to keep his mouth on you. You got wetter by the second, hole spasming with each thrust and lick he continued to give you.

You were so close, loud moans escaping your lips as you inched closer and closer to the edge. You were going to fall, tip over into the sweet abyss of relief, until he pulled away.

Stopping all motion and movement, he basically forced himself off of you. Fingers slipping out and mouth moving away, he left you high and dry.

Incoherent mumbles fell from your lips, cries and begs pleading for more tumbled off of your tongue. You chased his touch, hands searching for his face or shoulders but he had already pulled away.

He sat up, panting like a dog as he stared down at the sight of you. Legs spread wide, body covered in a thin sheet of sweat, lips still bloody from his bite and the trail he left over your skin. He wanted to let you finish, he really did. To taste your release on his tongue, lick it up until the very last drop and hear your sweet little voice pitch and whine for him. But his cock was too hard, aching and dripping with need for you. It twitched in his pants, so close to spilling from the mere act of him tasting you. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gulps, settling himself between your legs and laying over your body. His hands touch you once more, groping at your waist and breast before grabbing your chin. He makes you look at him, eyes half lidded and filled with tears as he kisses you.

“Need you baby,” He moans into you, lips wandering over your face. From your cheeks, to your temple, and down your chin. You humm, hands grasping at his shoulder until he slips back away. “Need you so bad.” His voice is nothing short of a whimper. Raspy and thick with desire, it sounds like a cry from deep within his chest.

His hands let you go, rushing to unbuckle his pants. You watch him fumble with the belt, groaning at his shaking hands for not staying still. Excitement fills him the second he's able to actually pull his cock out, sighing in relief when it escapes the confines of his pants.

It bobs a bit when he pulls it out. Thick and achingly hard, the tip leaks with a stickiness that drips from his head. It's heavy, a soft pink with a nice long viens that starts at the base and makes its way to the very top. He moans when he wraps his hand around himself, stroking the member and spreading his own need over himself.

He aims it down, dipping the cockhead between your folds. Teasing and rubbing himself full of your wetness, he nudges at your clit. You whimper, closing your eyes as he teases you. He rubs himself all over, fucking your lips and coating every inch with your slick until he finally nudges the head against your hole.

You’re shaking by now. Vision white and blurred as you whimper and whine beneath him. He grabs your hips, holding you tight and steady. Drool drips from the corners of his chin, falling onto your lower belly. He groans, taking in a deep breath before finally inserting himself inside of you.

It’s filthy, the way both you moan and whimper when you feel each other. His cock stretches you out, the ache of it easing into pleasure as you adjust to his size. Your warmth envelopes him, clenching tightly and he whines at the feeling. You're panting, catching the breath that left your lungs while you feel him all around you.

He gives you a few more seconds to adjust, before moving his hips.

Slowly, he moves back and forth. Pushing in and out at a steady pace. His eyes are closed shut, mouth slightly parted as he tries to control himself. His grip is iron on you once more, knuckles white and nails digging in as he holds back.

He wanted to savour it, take in and absorb every second of this into his memory. Your breathy little moans, the way his cock throbs inside of you, the way your back arches and head tilts back. You felt like heaven, sunlight, and every other divine feeling that had been out of his reach for hundreds of years.

He leans in closer, chest pressing against yours as he thrust in deeper. Filling you up to the hilt, his cock reaching a place you didn't even know a man could touch.

You feel him in your stomach, the weight of him inside of you. The way the tip kissed your cervix and nudged at your sweet spot each time he moved had your eyes rolling into the sockets. Every movement he made was like he was plucking at the strings of your nerves, already raw and overstimulated.

Your hands claw at his back, leaving tender scratches across his skin. Your legs wrap themselves around his waist, pulling him in deeper. Your skin is pressed against his. Chest to chest and he covers your body like a blanket. Placing all his weight over you and trapping you underneath him.

He moans like a bitch in heat from just being inside of you. Louder than you have been the whole night, his body so sensitive and overwhelmed from just feeling your heat.

He pulls his hips back, leaving just his tip inside before gradually filling you back up. His cock is thick, leaving you feeling like he’s splitting you in half with each thrust.

Your arousal coats both of you, a loud squelching sound coming from where the two of you meet. It's everywhere, coating the inside of your thighs and his own. You even feel it drip down your ass. Utter embarrassment fills you at the way he slides in so easily, body showing just how much it wants him.

You can feel your cunt clenching around his cock. Keeping him close and not wanting to let him go.

You lift your hips to meet his, following where his length went to keep him inside no matter what.

“Yeah, darlin, just like that.” He mewls when he feels you start to move with him. He lets out a sigh from deep within his chest, the rumble of it makes you gasp. You could feel it inside of you, everywhere and all around.

You lips meet his, kissing desperately and messily as he keeps fucking into you.

His pace begins to grow faster, needier. Hips starting to slam into you. His balls slap against your ass, heavy and full of cum with each brutal thrust. You're both moaning into each others mouths,

He groans into your skin, breathing your scent in.

“So good, f-fuck- dreamt of this pussy baby.” He whines, licking up your cheek and down your neck.

“She’s grippin me real tight, knows who she belongs to.” He’s hardly moving his hips anymore. Just desperately humping and grinding into your cunt— not wanting to part from your wet warmth.

Your head is tilted back in pleasure, exposing the long expanse of your neck and collarbones. You looked so beautiful beneath him. The way you writhed and whimpered in his hold. Eyes all teary and looking up at him with need.

“Mnh, You and I gon’ be together forever, right darlin?” He whimpers into your skin, sucking a love bite into a pulse point at the side of your neck. It makes your body bolt, frantically nodding your head and whispering little “yes”es out like a prayer.

“Yeah, just like we was meant to be.” He kisses lower down, passing and licking at your collarbones before coming to the junction where your shoulder and neck met.

He had seen it the second he walked up to you, the scar.

It was only a small mark, healed and lighter than the rest of your body. It had a wrinkly texture, looking a bit mangled from the way your flesh melded itself back together. It was in the shape of an oval, faint little holes circling it that made it look like someone tried to chew and rip the skin off. The way an apple looks when you bite it. Clear punctures of teeth.

The scar from when he bit you.

“Really left my mark on you, didn’t I?” He hums against the skin, kissing it so tenderly you almost didn’t feel it with the way he was fucking you.

In more ways than one, you wanted to reply. But your mouth was dry, throat hoarse from the moans he kept dragging out of you. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, kiss his forehead, and pull him even closer to you until your bodies basically melted together. But all strength left you. Gone along with your mind, solely focused on the way he touched and made you feel.

So you said nothing, did nothing, but let out a high pitched cry when you felt him bite you.

Sharp teeth tore through your flesh, opening the scar anew. You could feel him groan in delight, cock twitching inside of you as he started to suck your blood. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, pure bliss on his tongue as he tasted you.

It awoke a primal urge inside of him, taking over his very mind and controlling his body. You were his, and he needed the world to know that. To mark you up and claim you as his in any way possible. He grew harder at the thought, pounding your poor pussy faster and biting you harder.

Pain ran through your body, teeth grinding and hissing at the sensation that spread throughout your shoulder. You wanted to shout, tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming sensations that took hold of you.

Blood spurt from your neck, dripping down onto your breasts over your body. You could feel the burning heat of it flowing across your skin. The thick liquid went down to where your body met his, chests covered in the sticky crimson as he continued to eat away at you.

His mouth was stuck on the wound, lips wrapped and suctioning around it as he drank up all that he could. His chin was covered with you, licking at your shoulder the same way he had your cunt.

His cock dragged itself over your sweet spots, nudging and fucking your walls with a passion so intense it had you seeing stars. You could feel your body betray you, cunt clenching and fluttering around him so tightly like it was scared to let him go.

The mixture of pain and pleasure soon started melting together, leaving only a euphoric sensation humming throughout your body. The ache of your shoulder began to dull, fading into a numbness that left every other feeling heightened.

It shouldn’t have felt this good. The way he kept rutting into you, sucking and fucking you over a ledge and into oblivion.

His hips were flush against your, the thick hairs above the base of his length brushing and stimulating your clit.

His mouth leaves your neck, blood dripping down his chin as he goes to kiss you. Red paints your lips, and you can taste the bitter iron of it all over. You whine, feeling him whimper and suck at your tongue. It's all messy, filthy, and so disgustingly erotic than anything else you’ve ever experienced.

You can feel the knot of your stomach begin to tighten once more, walls fluttering around his length. You flutter around him, wetness dripping out to coat both of you and the obscene sound of it has your head spinning.

He feels your release ready to take over you and he fastens his pace slightly. A needy little whine escapes your throat, breath catching.

“Hah- Need you, baby.” He moans into your mouth, hands gripping your shoulder to keep you in one place. “Need you so bad.” He’s close too, hips rutting desperately into you, balls tightening and threatening to spill.

“Say you need me too.” He almost cries, movements beginning to stutter. He’s begging for it, repeating the words into your skin over and over. Like if you said it it meant this was real. You felt so good, too good— he thought that he finally reached heaven.

“Need you, need you.” You breathlessly managed to gasp, fingers clawing at the tender skin of his back.

With one harsh thrust, you feel yourself falling over the edge. Waves of pleasure envelope you, drowning until white blurs your vision. Your body shakes, going numb at the feeling of his own spend filling you up.

He lets out a wanton moan, finally cumming deep inside of you. His hips continue to rutt into you, working through both of your orgasms as he empties his balls into you. His body collapses over yours, his weight crushing you as he groans and bottoms out.

You can feel it start to drip out of you, a white ringlet forming around his base as he finally slows his relentless pace. It's thick and needy, like he deprived himself of release for so long until he was able to give it to you. You gush all over him, walls fluttering and taking all that he gave you.

Emotions rush through you as you come down. Delight and bliss, relief and happiness fill your chest. You’re breathing so heavily, mind and body becoming exhausted from the way he took you. You could feel yourself growing tired, the rush of adrenaline passing over.

In its place, a strange cold began to set in. Your fingertips and toes turned numb. It pulled at your mind, whisking away all strength and energy. Your eyes grew heavy, threatening to shut.

The familiar song of sleep called to you. Lulling you in with her sweet melody.

You wanted nothing more than to succumb to the darkness. Wrap yourself in its embrace and not feel anything else. And you were going to. So close to falling over and closing your eyes.

But then you felt his hand come to your cheek.

Warm, wet, and sticky. It brought you back to life.

You suddenly became aware of your blood on your skin, already beginning to dry and crust along your skin. It covered you like a thin layer of sweat, painting you red. You could feel the wound of your shoulder ache, throbbing softly as it slowly stopped bleeding.

Right. He had bitten you. Ripped and tore your flesh with his teeth, marking you as his own.

You were dying.

His fingers grabbed at your chin, softly turning your head to his. His eyes glowed faintly, a deep red piercing into the veil of your soul. You were already naked. Body and soul having been torn apart and stripped to your very core by his own hands– yet his gaze had you feeling embarrassed. It felt so intimate, full of a love you’ve never seen before. Your heart ached at the feeling.

“Fallin’ asleep?” He asks in a whisper, soft smile flashing his sharp teeth. They were full of blood, the pearly whites now a deep crimson.

You nod lightly, eyes blurry as you look up at him.

From this angle, he looked like something heavenly. Moonlight covered his skin, surrounding him in a faint glow. The lamp above your door gave off a ringlet of warm light, his head centered around it in a way that made it look like a crown. Your blood covered his mouth and chest, all messy and filthy. A glimpse into the ravenous beast he truly was.

The sight should be terrifying, have you crying and saying your prayers. But all you could think of was how beautiful he looked. Unearthly. Your angel of death.

Your weak response made him chuckle, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek.

The cold you had felt started to settle into your bones, making you shiver in the summer heat.

His lips wandered to yours, kissing you with a softness that almost hurt.

“Am I dying?” You croak out. Your voice was quiet, so low and hoarse you weren’t even sure you said the words. It was a silly question, one you already knew the answer to. But asking made you feel better for some reason. Made it feel real.

He parted from you, eyes softening and brows furrowing with concern. His hand moved to your forehead, wiping away the hair and sweat that had stuck to your skin. The feeling brought you comfort, you leaned into his touch.

“It’s only for a bit. You’ll be with me before you know it.” His response is sweet. Holding no trace of malice or lies.

Be with me, the words echoed throughout your head.

What was left of your mind struggled to understand the words, unsure of what being with him meant. Until it all hit you at once.

Oh, so this is what it felt like.

The feeling you had been running from since the day you met him. The feeling you were always told to be terrified of as a girl. The feeling you now embrace and longed for, finally come to you.

You can’t help but to think of the despair and sadness that lead you to this moment. From your parents' absent love to your struggling faith. You wondered if this was always how it was meant to happen.

Was this truly the very thing you were destined for?

“I used to be so lonely,” You start to think aloud, “I would beg God to send someone who loved me.” Your voice is frail, shaking and thin. “ I’d look for him everywhere, trying to find a sign he was listening, but I never found one.” Your own bloodied hand comes to touch his cheek, fingertips leaving a red mark beneath his cheekbone.

“I stopped believing in him for a long time after that.”

You can feel your mind slipping, the hand that touched him falling away back into your lap. Your mind grasped at your fading soul, but it was too weak to hold on.

“But now, I realize he’s real. He has to be,” Small tears fall from your eyes. “He sent you to me. You were his plan all along.” Your words were dripping with hope. The belief of a girl who had nothing but her faith, coming back up and out of you like a confession.

“Nah, ain’t no God, baby.” He replies, voice so soft and gentle. Speaking to you like how one would a weeping child. “It’s just me.”

His hand grip your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pulls away, slipping his softened cock out. The feeling has you both wincing. Sadness fills your chest at the seperation, scared that he’ll leave you alone if you weren’t feeling him.

As if he knew, he leans back in immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling you close. His strong arms pull you up, body already half limp as he fixes you tightly against his chest. He holds you in a half hug, almost like how a bride is carried down the aisle.

You watch his every move, awe and love filling your now faintly beating heart. You’ve never felt so warm, so loved and cherished.

“I don’t even know your name…” You rasp out, eyes finally start to close for good.

Your head falls, strength leaving you at last. Your mind is drifting off, heartbeat slowing by the second.

You can’t feel anything but him now. His faint warmth seeped into you, being your small tether to the world still around you.

You don’t even care if you wake up after this or not. At the moment, you’re just happy to have him there. To have been loved and taken by a man who made you feel like he truly loved you. Right now, that was all that mattered.

The last of your consciousness fades, letting go of your final breath as hear him reply.

“Remmick. It’s Remmick, darlin’.”

His name is like a song. The way he says it like a melody. The southern drawl of his voice is gone and replaced with something so old and distant, you’re sure you must’ve known it in another life. Something so beautiful that you’re upset you even forgot about it.

You use the very last of your strength to smile, finally falling into that deep and familiar sleep you would always come back to.

You were always told to fear death. To cower at the very thought and run whenever it was mentioned. Foreign and horrific, everyone described. They never told the truth. How could they, they never knew it for themselves. And if they did, all they would do is talk about how sweet it truly was.

You wake not long after. With him still holding you in his arms.

He denies it, but swore you saw tears fall from his eyes as soon as you opened yours.

No longer lonely, now loved and cared for, you raised your head up to give him kiss. Thanking him for finally giving you a home, a place to belong.

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

a/n: i lowkey fear it kinda fell apart at the end, but we still ballin 😗✌️I hope the story and smut were good, im proud of myself for finally finishing something (FOR ONCE LOL)

#i fear i went overboard mayhaps #ts is NASTY i fear #WHY WAS THIS 30 PAGES ON GOOGLE DOCS #remmick x reader #remmick smut #remmick sinners #sinners #sinners fanfiction #sinners fic #jack o'connell #sinners remmick #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #☾☼mims writes

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crushpunky · 7 months ago

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drew’s lockscreen of actress!reader

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is something a bit new— a sort of social media au / short fic based off an ask. let me know what you guys think <3

Though the video was a bit blurry and quick, the girl on Drew’s lockscreen was undoubtedly y/n. Wearing one of Drew’s button downs, her hair swept back by the wind and a smile on her face, y/n struck a pose on the beach. Behind her, the sun met the ocean, casting golden light that kissed y/n’s skin and bathed her in an ethereal light. The photo and memory was one of Drew’s favorites, and each time he opened his phone he was reminded of it.

He had just gotten back home to Charleston to prepare to shoot Outer Banks following his time away while filming Queer in Italy. Any amount of worry or stress that loomed over him about his hectic filming schedule quickly evaporated when y/n picked him up from the airport, her dazzling smile wide and voice like music to his ears. The two of them spent the rest of the day making up for “lost time”, the couple mostly sticking to the confines of their bedroom until they finally decided to take a break and make the trek down to the beach to watch the sunset.

The sun was hanging low over the Carolina landscape, the only sounds the lull of the ocean and the swaying of the trees in the breeze.

“Didn’t realize how much I missed these beaches.” Drew said with a sigh, looking down at y/n with a grin. The two of them walked through the sand hand in hand, swinging their hands between the two of them rhythmically as they approached the water.

“The beach you took me to when I visited was pretty nice.” Y/n said with a smirk, raising her eyebrows up at Drew playfully. One of the times y/n had come to see Drew when he was filming, he had surprised her with a day at the beach. The only problem was, Drew hadn’t researched quite thoroughly enough, and the two of them ended up hiking to a nude beach. Flustered and fearful of the prying eyes of fans or the paparazzi, the two of them had to hike all the way back to town with their unused beach gear. Instead, they opted to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city hand in hand. Even if the day hadn’t gone quite how they expected, they got to spend it together and that was all they really wanted.

“Haha, very funny.” Drew rolled his eyes playfully, pulling the beach towel out from under his arm and laying it down in a spot near the surf. Smoothing it out, Drew sat down before offering a hand up to y/n. With a giggle, y/n took his hand before sitting down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Drew’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his side.

“These sunsets weren’t quite as fun to watch without you.” Y/n said quietly, peering up at Drew. He looked down at her with a grin, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose before burying his face into her hair. Y/n could hear the steady thrum of Drew’s heart in her ear, his fingers tracing gently along her back in a way that made her cheeks warm.

“I’m happy to be back.” Drew whispered into y/n’s hair. The two of them sat in silence, basking in each other's presence, as the sun drew closer and closer to the horizon. Suddenly, an idea popped into Drew’s mind, his hand reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Get up real quick. I wanna do something.” Drew smiled, climbing to his feet. Once more, he offered his hand out to y/n, who took it gratefully as she rose to stand next to him. Drew stood still, his eyes locked on y/n and a cheesy grin on his face.

“What?” Y/n chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as she faced Drew. With a gentle touch, Drew shifted her over to stand with her back to the surf, the setting sun illuminating her and the beach in an orange glow. Without another word and a lovestruck grin still on his face, Drew picked up his phone and pointed the camera towards y/n.

“Strike a pose for me, baby.” Drew grinned. Y/n smiled for the photo, not moving from her position.

“C’mon… please?” Drew said sweetly, his grin apparent in his tone. With a groan and a playful roll of her eyes, y/n popped her hip out in an exaggerated pose that caused Drew to let out a chuckle as he snapped a photo. Looking closely at the photo, Drew could feel his heart swell. Y/n looked so positively radiant, so positively y/n, the personality and beauty Drew fell in love with, all captured in just a single frame.

“Are you done?” Y/n asked, tearing Drew’s eyes away from his phone. He nodded before looking back down at the photo with a grin.

“Lemme see.” Y/n teased, coming towards Drew and raising up onto her tiptoes to peer at his phone.

“I think this is the best photo I’ve ever seen.” Drew whispered, causing y/n to giggle as she looked up at him. Quickly swiping through his settings, Drew set the photo as his lock screen. Turning his phone off, he turned it back on to display his new lock screen. The two of them laughed lightly before Drew put the phone back in his pocket.

“My little model.” Drew said, pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek before lifting her in his arms. She let out a giggle, perhaps Drew’s favorite sound, as he spun her in the golden light of the beach. With a sigh, Drew sat her feet back down into the sand, his hands still wrapped firmly around her waist as he stared at her intently.

Despite being firmly on the ground again, y/n swore her head was still spinning because of the way Drew was looking at her: his eyes so wide, scanning over every inch of her, the icy blue bathed in a golden glow from the sun. Y/n reached up, wrapping her arms around Drew’s neck and smiling up at him. Slowly, Drew leaned in and pressed his lips to her own, his familiar taste caused her smile to widen. Curling her fingers into his hair, y/n pulled him even closer, savoring the beautiful moment the two of them were sharing… and wouldn’t soon forget thanks to Drew’s new lock screen.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader #drew starkey x actress!reader social media au #drew starkey social media au #drew starkey x reader social media au

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago

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SFX Magazine Issue 372 - Designing Good Omens ❤ 😊

PRODUCTION DESIGNER MICHAEL RALPH REVEALS HOW THE SHOW’S CENTREPIECE SET, WHICKBER STREET, WAS GIVEN A DEVILISHLY CLEVER UPGRADE FOR THE SECOND SEASON

WORDS: DAVE GOLDER

Invisible Columns And Thin Walls “The new studio is Pyramid Studios in Bathgate – it used to be a furniture warehouse. And unfortunately – or fortunately, because I accept these things as not challenges but gifts – right down the middle of that studio are a series of upright columns. But you’ll never spot them on screen. I had to build them in and integrate them into the walls and still get the streets between them. And it worked.

“There’s all sorts of cheeky design values to those sets. Normally a set like this is double-skin. In other words, you do an interior wall and an exterior wall, with an airspace in between. But really, the only time a viewer notices that there’s that width is at the doors and the windows. So I cheated all that. I ended up with single walls everywhere. So the exterior wall is the interior wall, just painted. All I did was make the sash windows and entrances wider to give it some depth as you walked in.”

GOOD OMENS HAD A CHANGE of location for its second season, but hopefully you didn’t notice. Because Whickber Street in Soho upped sticks from an airfield in Hertfordshire to a furniture warehouse in Bathgate, Edinburgh. It’s the kind of nonsensical geographical shenanigans that could only make sense in the crazy world of film and TV, and production designer Michael Ralph was the man in charge of rebuilding and expanding the show’s vast central set. “I wish we could have built more in season one than we did,” says Ralph, whose previous work has included Primeval and Dickensian. “We built the ground floor of everything and the facades of all the shops. But we didn’t build anything higher than that, because we were out on an airfield in a very, very difficult terrain and weather conditions, so we really couldn’t go much higher. Visual effects created the upper levels.”

But with season two the set has gone to a whole other level… literally. “What happened was that the rest of the street became integrated into the series’s storyline,” explains Ralph. “So we needed a record shop, we needed a coffee shop that actually had an inside, we needed a magic shop, we needed the pub. To introduce those meant we had to change the street with a layout that works from a storylines point of view. In other words, things like someone standing at the counter in the record shop had to be able to eyeball somebody standing at the counter in the coffee shop. They had to be able to eyeball Aziraphale sitting in his office in the window of the bookshop. But the rest of it was a pleasure to do inside, because we could expand it and I could go up two storeys.”

For most of the set, which is around 80 metres long and 60 metres wide, the two storeys only applied to the shop frontages, but in the case of Aziraphale’s bookshop, it allowed Ralph to build the mezzanine level for real this time. According to Ralph it became one of the cast and crews’ favourite places to hang out during down time.

But while AZ Fell & Co has grown in height, it actually has a slightly smaller footprint because of the logistics of adapting it to the new studio.

“Everybody swore to me that no one would notice,” says Ralph wryly. “I walked onto it and instinctively knew there was a difference immediately, and they hated me for that. I have this innate sense about spatial awareness and an eye like a spirit level.

“It’s not a lot, though – I think we’ve lost maybe two and a half feet on the front wall internally. I think that there’s a couple of other smaller areas, but only I’d notice. So I can be really annoying to my guys, but only on those levels. Not on any other. They actually quite like me…”

Populating The Bookshop “The props in the new bookshop set were a flawless reproduction from the set decorator Bronwyn Franklin [who is also Ralph’s wife]. It was really the worst-case scenario after season one. She works off the concept art that I produce, but what she does is she adds so much more to the character of the set. She doesn’t buy anything she doesn’t love, or doesn’t fit the character.

“But the things she put a lot of work into finding for season one, they were pretty much one-offs. When we burnt the set down in the sixth episode, we lost a lot of props, many of which had been spotted and appreciated by the fans. So Bronwyn had to discover a new set decorating technique: forensic buying.

“She found it all – duplicates and replicas. It took ages. In that respect, the Covid delay was very helpful for Bron. There’s 7,000 books in there and there’s not one fake book. That’s mainly because… it’s a weird thing to say, but we wanted it to smell and feel like a bookshop to everybody that was in it, all the time.

“It affects everybody subliminally; it affects everybody’s performance – actors and crew – it raises the bar 15 to 20%. And the detail, you know… We love a lot of detail.”

(look at the description under this, they called him 'Azi' hehehehe :D <3)

Aziraphale’s Inspirational Correspondence “There’s not one single scrap of paper on Aziraphale’s desk that isn’t written specifically for Aziraphale. Every single piece is not just fodder that’s been shoved there, it has a purpose; it’s a letter of thanks, or an enquiry about a book or something.

“Michael Sheen is so submerged in his character he would get lost sitting at his own desk, reading his own correspondence between takes. I believe wholeheartedly that if you put that much care into every single piece of detail, on that desk and in that room, that everybody feels it, including the crew, and then they give that set the same respect it deserves.

“They also lift their game because they believe that they’re doing something of so much care and value. Really, it’s a domino effect of passion and care for what you’re producing.”

Alternative Music “My daughter Mickey is lead graphic designer [two of Ralph’s sons worked on the series too, one as a concept artist, the other in props]. They’re the ones that produced all of that handwritten work on the desk. She’s the one that took on the record shop and made up 80 band names so that we didn’t have to get copyright clearance from real bands. Then she produced records and sleeves that spanned 50, 60 years of their recordings, and all of the graphics on the walls.

“I remember Michael and Neil [Gaiman] getting lost following one band’s history on the wall, looking at their posters and albums desperately trying to find out whether they survived that emo period.”

It’s A Kind Of Magic One of the new shops in Whickber Street for season two was Will Goldstone’s Magic Shop, which is full of as many Easter eggs as off-the-shelf conjuring tricks, including a Matt Smith Doctor Who-style fez and a toy orang-utan that’s a nod to Discworld’s The Librarian. Ralph says that while the series is full of references to Gaiman, Pratchett and Doctor Who, Michael Sheen never complained about a lack of Masters Of Sex in-jokes. “He’d be the last person to make that sort of comment!”

Ralph also reveals that the magic shop counter was another one of his wife’s purchases, bought at a Glasgow reclamation yard.

The Anansi Boys Connection Ralph reveals that Good Omens season two used the state-of-the-art special effects tech Volume (famous for its use in The Mandalorian to create virtual backdrops) for just one sequence, but he will be using it extensively elsewhere on another Gaiman TV series being made for Prime Video.

“We used Volume on the opening sequence to create the creation of the universe. I was designing Anansi Boys in duality with this project, which seems an outrageously suicidal thing to do. But it was fantastic and Anansi Boys was all on Volume. So I designed for Volume on one show and not Volume on the other. The complexities and the psychology of both is different.”

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achilles-rage · 4 months ago

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summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs.

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state.

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes.

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side.

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is.

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss.

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his.

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

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mingapace · 29 days ago

Text

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ x ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰʀᴇᴀᴋ ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ, ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ, ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴇʀᴀ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ᴍᴏᴀɴɪɴɢ, ᴡʜɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ, ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟᴄᴏʟ, ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ, ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ. [Also, English is not my first language]

You stepped out of the club with your underwear crooked and your makeup faded and smudged. The guy you’d picked up for the night had been cute, sure — but empty.

He had pushed you against the wall just outside — not even bothering with the decency of a car — lips on your neck while his hands slipped under your short dress and searched between your legs.

You waited… and waited… and waited.

And nothing.

He tried for at least five minutes and, despite the alcohol pumping through your veins, it became painfully clear he had no idea what he was doing.

Before he could even think of unbuttoning his jeans, you pushed him off with an annoyed groan and stumbled away from the alley, vision blurred, still aching for something — something that felt like a real touch.

The city at night had stopped feeling alive — just like you.

You sat on a wooden bench in a small nearby park, still damp from the recent watering of the grass. The streetlamps flickered weakly, casting that dull yellow-gray light that makes everything seem sadder than it already is.

You reached into your bag until your fingers found your pack of cigarettes. You pulled one out and placed it between your lips. Your free hand patted your jacket pockets. When the lighter wasn’t there, you dug around in your bag with no luck.

“Shit… that’s the fifth this week…” you muttered, annoyed, imagining your lighter now lying on the filthy alley floor, probably among broken glass and piss.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, letting out a long sigh, the cigarette still hanging from your damp lips.

Then you heard it — light footsteps.

You opened your eyes just as the flame lit the end of your cigarette. Your gaze darted to the owner of the lighter who had so kindly done you the favor.

Messy dark hair, a squared jaw with the beginnings of stubble, skin pale like it hadn’t seen the sun in ages. He was dressed in something that may have been stylish years ago — a wrinkled gray shirt, an oversized jacket, open collar.

And the eyes — those eyes — dull and bright at the same time, a speckled gray, watching you intently, deeply, following every movement, every flicker of your expression.

You took a drag and blew the smoke upward, still staring back at him. Maybe you should’ve said something. Thanked him? Asked how the hell he knew what you were looking for?

But the truth was, you didn’t want to break the silence. It was the only surprising thing tonight.

“It fell from yer pocket earlier. If you don’t need it anymore… can I keep it?” he asked. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or truly desperate enough to want to hold on to a half-empty lighter just to have something yours.

You slowly sat up straighter and turned slightly on the bench, resting your arms along the backrest so you could see him better.

You raised your hand, but instead of taking the lighter, you brushed your fingers against his. Cold. Trembling.

He flinched slightly — a barely noticeable twitch, like the touch had been too much. Or too rare.

His eyes shimmered for a moment, like something was waking up behind them.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” he whispered. “It’s just… you were the only thing alive in this place.”

His words were strange, theatrical, even ridiculous — but they didn’t sound fake.

He believed them.

And you? You were wondering why your heart was pounding harder now than when that idiot had pinned you to the alley wall with two of his fingers inside you.

You looked around. There really didn’t seem to be a soul in sight.

“You didn’t bother me. Actually, thank you for…” you lift the cigarette with a nod and bring it back to your lips. “Do you smoke,…?”

You wait for him to tell you his name and it takes him a moment to realize that you are asking.

“Remmick.”

“Do you smoke, Remmick?”

He shakes his head and remains standing, alternating his weight from one foot to the other.

“Sit down.” You tell him, in a calm voice. And even if it doesn’t sound like an invitation but rather an order, he obeys. He sits at the end of the bench, the distance between you is small but in that moment it seems infinite.

The smoke slowly dissipates as it comes out in small tornadoes from your mouth. Your bare leg moves slightly, shifting your torso to the side so you can look directly at him. The alcohol that spurred that brave and childish side that you suppressed most of the time, as good manners required.

He looks agitated, almost feverish.

“Everything okay?” You ask, but you say it in that tone that doesn’t really ask. “You look like you just chose not to kill yourself or just realized you’re still alive.”

He doesn’t answer right away. But when you don’t continue, he adds in a small voice, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You don’t know what he means. In fact, you don’t even think about it. You see that opening, that glimmer of weakness, and you dive right in.

You’re bored. You want to have fun. You want to see enough to make him tremble. Just a game, a little tease.

Something to put you back on top of the world, at least for a few minutes.

You slide your elbow along the back of the bench, leaning slightly toward him. You blow smoke from your mouth—slowly—down toward his neck.

“Really?” You grin. “So you came here to find someone…or to be found?”

Remmick stiffens. His Adam’s apple moves in his throat, catching your attention. His eyes drop again—but this time they’re not looking at the road.

They’re looking at your leg.

You smile. Just a little. But you don’t push him any further, you don’t give him a chance to believe you’ve noticed.

“You know you’re cute, right?” You push down the little voice in your head that was calling you desperate and an idiot for seeking the attention of a lonely man in the middle of an empty park. “The kind of cute that’s a little broken. The kind you look at and think, if I touch him, he’ll fall apart.”

The streetlight above you suddenly goes out and for a second you see his eyes glow red before the light comes back on. You blink but when you look back at him, his eyes are gray puddles again.

Maybe you had too much drinks tonight.

“Are you kidding me?” he asks, frowning.

You laugh. But it’s not a cruel sound, more like a loving laugh.

“No, Remmick. I’m just trying to read you.”

And then you do. You lean closer.

Your hip brushes his. Your fingers rise, lightly, and touch the hem of his jacket, just below his collar where a golden glow had caught your eye.

You feel him catch his breath when you touch the necklace.

“Are you afraid of me?” You whisper close to his ear.

“Not…really.” He says and again, you don’t try to read between the lines. You bask in the wavering tone of his voice without really thinking about his words and you find yourself liking it. You like the way you’re taking him apart with just your eyes and a still-lit cigarette between your fingers.

“Then come closer. I don’t bite.”

You see him lift a corner of his mouth, amused by your joke. And then he does. He slides close to you and your bare thigh brushes against his.

“You know,” you continue, “You’re not the first one to look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, almost reluctantly.

“Like you want to eat me.”

He inhales slowly. You see his hands tremble slightly and fold in on themselves and when you think he would jump up and run away, you see him lick his bottom lip and say, “Would you let me do that?”

He takes you by surprise and you freeze when you see him slide from your side and kneel on the ground.

In front of you and your united thighs.

The ground beneath his knees is damp but he doesn’t care. He places the palms of his ice-cold hands on your knees, making you shiver and waits.

You realize that the damp feeling between your thighs is no longer just due to the wet bench but also to the strong rush of excitement and danger that the situation had forced inside you. That he had forced inside you.

You nod slowly, not trusting your voice.

Remmick makes a sound that makes your insides twist - a mix between a growl and a whimper - as he slowly opens your legs to give himself the chance to slide in between.

He lifts one of your thighs onto his shoulder and his lips rest on the inside skin, leaving soft and rough caresses from his barely visible beard.

With every touch, his breath hitches. As if every caress were saying thank you.

You automatically move your hips lower and lift your dress with one hand, oblivious to the open place you were. You’re soaking wet and he can feel it. He sniffs it and sighs.

That sigh…

“Can I have a taste, honey? Just a little…” his voice shakes. “I’ll be good…”

You look at him, so broken. So eager to please.

You take him by the hair, slowly, with firm fingers and guide him. You feel his fingers pull your panties aside and then his mouth is on you. Remmick groans and opens his lips as if he were at home there, between your thighs, in the dark corner of a godforsaken park. His tongue flattens against your bundle of muscles that the previous idiot had ignored the entire time and you can’t help but mewl in pleasure.

You push his head closer and he obeys without a sound. It feels like he’s even holding his breath, as if he’s afraid of ruining everything with that alone.

You feel it right away: he’s not just good, he’s hungry in a way that makes you lose your mind completely. Every lick is a silent plea, an offering. He doesn’t try to be noticed - he just wants you to feel. To react.

And you do.

“God, where the fuck did you learn to do that so well…” you whisper, your voice scratchy with pleasure. “Like you’re starving for me…”

He moans against you, like a liquid sound and you know he loves hearing you praise him. His hands have tightened around your thighs but not to control, to anchor himself.

“Hold that tongue there. Yes, just like that. Such a good boy.” He trembles and arches the wet muscle, pushing it deep inside you.

You throw your head back and the world around you goes dark for a few minutes. Only that mouth exists. Only him. That small, miserable masterpiece that consumes itself to give you pleasure.

You squeeze him between your thighs but he doesn't pull away. He pants and his tongue speeds up, becomes more precise. He wants to make you come. He silently begs you with his eyes to let you go. And when he succeeds - when you feel the orgasm coming, hot, dirty - you don't stop him. You give it all to him.

You scream, you pull his hair and he stays there. While you shake in his hands, while you drip into his hungry mouth.

When you calm down, he doesn't get up. He stays there, one cheek resting on the inside of your thigh, as if that were his place. His breathing is ragged but the smile on his lips - shiny with you - is one of gratitude.

He could get up, he could say something but he doesn't.

He continues to look at you with devotion from below.

Your heartbeat is slow but not calm. Something inside you is still throbbing. Not just desire. Authority. The pleasure of being desired like this. You lean down and cup his chin, barely lifting his face from your flesh. His eyes follow you, moving down to your lips too many times to be casual.

“Where do you live, Remmick?”

He swallows. He starts to speak but his brain seems to have second thoughts.

“I don't...,” he whispers, looking at the floor like a beaten dog. “I have a bed I use sometimes. It’s a place they let me stay…if I don’t talk too much.”

His words stir something in your chest, that white knight syndrome you can never quite stifle for lost causes.

“Come with me, then.”

What was so wrong with it, after all? It would only be for that one night…

Remmick looks up suddenly, as if he didn’t quite understand but he did, actually.

“My home.”

The way he pants makes you feel powerful. The way he nods, without saying a word, makes you feel divine. He follows you in silence. The light, reverent step. Hands in pockets and eyes downcast.

Your apartment is dark, silent, with the familiar smell of your perfume and the night. You open the door and leave it open for him, moving slightly away from the entrance in a clear gesture of invitation. He remains in the doorway for a few seconds then, slowly, stretches out a foot and crosses the threshold.

After closing the door behind him, you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom. The room is in semi-darkness since the streetlight outside your window illuminates only your bed, creating a frame of shadow all around.

You push him down onto the bed and he falls back onto the mattress, sitting stiffly as you walk between his legs and reach for the clasp of your dress, letting it slide down.

He silently observes every inch of skin you give him. Your collarbones, the skin of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the heat you radiate without even moving much until you are completely naked under his delirious gaze.

You see him reach out for you but you slap it away. You lean forward, stripping him of his shirt and running your nails along the skin of his chest and stomach, making him pant against your face.

“Lie down.” You order and he does. Shaking, his breath ragged and a look in his eyes that was beyond devotion.

Your fingers hook into his pants and underwear and you slide them all down his legs until they are out of his ankles and onto the floor. Your gaze skims the small dark forest around his pink cock, already at attention and dripping with desire. You see him tense and contract as your hands move up his thighs, making him whine.

Remmick stays there, like a servant stretched out for someone else’s pleasure. He doesn’t dare touch himself. He doesn’t dare ask.

You climb on top of him, slowly, and take his cock between your fingers. It’s hard, throbbing, as if he’s been waiting for you for hours.

You guide him to your entrance and his hands fly to your sides, making concentric circles on your skin with his thumbs. But he doesn’t move any further. He doesn’t push.

“Darlin', don’t torture me like this… I’ve been good…” And then… you lower yourself. Little by little. Millimeter by millimeter you let him enter you, your walls so soaked that his slide in is easy and fast.

The sensation is thick. Hot.

You see him arch his back and squeeze your hips harder than necessary. You would have bruises the next day for sure.

“Fuck, you’re so hot…” you hear him moan while you’re still lost in the bliss of stretching and feeling full. You feel the muscles of his thighs tensing against your ass and you know he’s holding out, just for you.

As a reward for his perseverance, you’ve started to move. Slow, sensual, with a rhythm you control from top to bottom. Every descent is a thrust of power. Every whine you tear from his chest is a confirmation that he’s yours now.

You use him, you mount him, you bend him under your weight and your will. For a while.

Your orgasm comes like a slow storm. Your hands slide from his chest and you lean forward enough to allow his lips to capture yours in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue.

One of his hands moves up your back, the sting of sharp nails leaving you sighing against his mouth and without warning he sits up, forcing you to grab his shoulders and twist your legs along his sides.

“Remmick…” you mewl against his lips as his cock begins to pump inside you again with renewed interest. With a ardour you didn’t expect from him.

His arm firmly around your waist forces you to rise and fall, your body and your walls open for him.

“I knew you’d be this delightful… I knew it from the very first moment I laid eyes on you…” he whispers against your ear, as he slowly pushes you down, the wet sound of your coupling echoing throughout the room.

You don’t respond immediately. The pleasure continues to course through your veins, making your bones vibrate. The rhythm rekindles but it’s more intimate, more desperate.

“Am I doing this right, love?” His hips tilt just a little and he hits that spongy little spot inside you that makes your toes curl and cry into his shoulder. “Better than that prick outside the club, amn't I?”

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands tightening on his shoulders.

“How do you know…?”

He cups your face in one hand and you feel his long, abnormal fingers manage to cage your face fully as he shifts you to face him.

He smiles at you just a little, even as he continues to move inside you, slow, steady and your eyes flutter in his blinding red sockets.

“I was there. Ye were beautiful. Lost. Searchin' for somethin'. Ye looked at him with empty eyes. Not the way ye're lookin' at me now, no.” He doesn’t notice your discomfort as he kisses your cheek tenderly, nuzzling his nose against your temple like an animal. “When I saw that lighter slippin' outta yer pocket, I knew it was meant to be.”

Your body continues to enjoy but your mind slows down, fear begins to take over, giving you clarity. “Did you…did you follow me?”

He nods, his face buried in your hair as he sighs in ecstasy. He doesn’t justify himself. He doesn’t apologize.

"All I ever wanted was for ye to see me. And now…sure I'm all over ye, aren't I?”

He’s still fucking you. Gently. Respectfully. But with an intention that wasn’t there before.

“Do I deserve to be with ye?” he asks, almost delirious. In fact, for sure. “To be the one ye'd pick, outta everyone?”

Your head snaps back into his grip, as if you’re just a puppet and he’s your puppeteer, making you look into his eyes again.

A tear slides down your cheek and he bent forward, licking its path and then leaning over your lips, preventing you from saying anything else. A plea, a prayer, a desperate cry, a curse against him…

His hips snap against yours one last time and you feel him throbbing and pouring into you in torrents, swallowing his whines.

“Stack and Mary are gonna be fierce excited about ye…” he murmurs inches from your face. His clawed hand covers your mouth, making you whimper and you only get a glimpse of sharp, drool-filled teeth before they sink deep into your neck.

Fonte for the dividers: cafekitsune

#sinners #remmick #remmick fanfic #ryan coogler #remmick x reader #vampire #sinners 2025 #remmick smut #jack o'connell #remmick x you #yandere!remmick #fucked reader #in every sense

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