#i'm not. i'm mostly confused and frustrated.

[everlucivee]

𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘

summary: smoke isn't able to go through with his promise to free her, which leaves annie to deal with the consequences. + a world in which vampires are able to get pregnant!

content warning: lowercase, cursing, use of n-word. (i’m black!!!)

word count: 1.5k, PROMISE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LONGER. i just felt like i was at a good place to end this chapter.

chapter 1: here

chapter 2

as annie wished, smoke left almost immediately, but that didn't stop him from returning the very next nightfall.

smoke had stayed at sammie's the night before—something uncle jed hadn't been too happy about—and he'd slept not a wink, mind too... awake, filled with too many thoughts about too many things, but mostly annie.

ever since this happened that's what's been on smoke's mind most of all. even before all this happened, she'd still taken up the most space in his head. throughout the seven years and before she was all he'd been able to think about.

he'd been uncomfortable all night. twisting and turning until he'd eventually decided to give up on trying to sleep entirely. at some point smoke went outside to try and roll a cigarette again after he'd stop trying hours ago. the night air had hit him just right, calming his thoughts for just a second.

the cigarette in his hand frustrating him to no end, so he just sat there. all night. staring at everything and nothing. forced to sit there with nothing to do, which forced him to sit with and finally acknowledge his thoughts.

and now as he stood on annie's doorstep, hand lifting up to knock on the door, he'd been wondering if this was a good idea at all. no, he knew this wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't seem to stay away from her.

the knocking sound brought him out of his thoughts.

"who is it?" annie said through the door, voice hoarse.

"c'mon, annie you know who it is."

"what do you want?" annie asked. she sounded closer to the door this time.

"can you open it?" smoke asked, leaning closer towards the door, "please?"

"elijah moore pleading? i never thought i'd see the day," annie said once she'd opened the door.

"why you here?" annie continued after realizing smoke wasn't going to say anything first.

she looked beautiful, she always did. her hair was tied up in one of her favorite wraps and a white nightgown that went to her mid thighs.

"to see you?" smoke replied, moving to step into her home, but she stopped him.

her hand resting on the doorknob still. "i don't want you in here. please respect that." but then she'd chuckled, which confused smoke the most about this entire crazy situation.

"what's funny?" smoke asked, his face twisting in confusion.

"respect. i dont know why im asking for respect from you. you obviously don't respect me." annie said, chuckles dying down, her expression changing into one of sadness? hurt?

"annie." smoke started, reaching into the house, attempting to seek out her hand, but unshockingly, she pulled back, moving out of his reach. he sighed, "i do respect you. more than anyone and anything. you know that."

"the worst part is that i know you truly believe that. and that scares me because that ain't true. you don't respect me at all, smoke. if you respected me..." she trailed off, staring him in the eye now, "well you know."

"i'm sorry, annie." smoke practically whispered, eyes lowering in embarrassment, shame.

"sorry ain't gonna change anything."

"what can i do? to make this better. to make you forgive me." smoke looked up again, tears collecting in his eyes.

"i'll never forgive you. but what you can do is leave me alone, elijah. i need space. i don't want to see you."

and as soon as she said the first sentence, smoke's heart broke in half. he couldn't lose her. that was the whole point of why he did what he did. he needed her.

"i'm not even able to put fresh milk on my baby's grave in the mornings anymore. that ain't something i can just forgive and get over."

smoke understood. as much as he hated this, he still understood.

he looked back towards their baby's grave, which had indeed been empty except for the now dead flowers that he'd left there weeks ago.

—

the first month without her had felt like an entire year. smoke truly doesn't know how he went seven years without her. he couldn't even imagine such a thing now.

he'd debated visiting her literally every single day since she told him she'd needed space, but he'd decided against it each time, trying his hardest to respect her one wish because he understood it. because he completely got why she wouldn't want to be around him, but he needed her.

he missed her. he wanted her. and he had nobody. she was all he had left, she and sammie, who wasn't even allowed to be anywhere near him anymore, all because uncle jed didn't trust him. all because uncle jed had been afraid that he'd somehow turn innocent sammie into something not so innocent.

smoke had been living in the juke joint for the last month. there's a small bed in the corner of the small room upstairs, the bed is beyond uncomfortable and is barely able to fully hold his weight, but that's his only option.

With barely enough money to last for the next two months, he couldn't just go out and spend it all in one place on a home.

as smoke laid there uncomfortably, tears rolling down his face, he'd heard a knock on the upstairs door. the upstairs door that no one should be able to reach unless you were a-

smoke's body shot up from the bed, quickly wiping at his face to get rid of the tears that had fallen, he couldn't let annie see him like this.

he'd walked to the door, quickly opening it before he could start to second guess the decision to open at all, and on the other side of the door stood his brother, who he hadn't seen in months, who he'd assumed was dead by now.

"the fuck you want?" smoke asked, anger fully taking over him, now.

"that's how it is, big brother?" stack asked, mockingly frowning.

"yeah, that's how it is, nigga," smoke replied, moving to close the door in his face.

"wait, it's about annie," stack said, reaching his hand out to stop the door from shutting in his face.

"what about her? is she good?" smoke asked, worry replacing almost every trace of anger he'd felt towards his brother.

"she's been talking to mary a lot, lately, and i've been listening in, and i don't know much about women other than what's in their pants but from what she's describing, she's either sick or pregnant, and i don't think vampires can get sick." stack said, huffing out a deep breath once he'd finished speaking.

"pregnant? nigga, ain't no way she's pregnant. she'd tell me," smoke said, but his voice trailed off as he spoke, second guessing if that second part had actually been true.

"yall aren't on the best terms, why would she be so quick to tell you? or maybe it just ain't yours," stack mumbled the last part.

"she ain't fuckin' nobody else," smoke said. the words or maybe it just ain't yours were replaying over and over in his mind.

"i don't know, man. we were gone for seven years. maybe she had a lil boyfriend. i don't know how far along she is. i can get mary to figure that out for you."

"i'll figure that out myself." smoke closed the door in his brother.

—

another month passed. two months without her.

stack had visited smoke many times since the first, giving updates on annie, but nothing else was said about the potential pregnancy.

he wanted to continue respecting annie's wish and he had every intention to, but he needed to figure this out once and for all.

what if his baby was inside her growing each day without him being there? he couldn't deal with that.

he waited until nightfall to return to her home. he hadn't even had to knock this time because she'd been outside already standing over their baby's grave, whispering words that he couldn't hear from how far away he was, but he knew she'd been talking.

"annie?" he whispered once he'd gotten close enough.

she didn't say anything for a while, now kneeling there, she continued brushing dirt off of the small rock that had their baby's tiny hand print.

"why won't you leave me alone?" annie asked, still not looking towards him.

"because i can't." smoke whispered.

she didn't say anything, she just stood up, walking towards the door of her home. smoke followed behind her slowly, scared of being turned away at the door.

"annie, are you pregnant?" smoke asked before they'd even made it to the door. the words came out as if he'd been struggling to hold them in and would pass out if he'd had to hold them in for any longer.

annie turned around, pausing on the steps, squinting at him and resting her arm on her hip.

"what?" annie asked.

"stack," smoke started, nervously walking closer to annie, "he said you been talking to mary about it."

annie sighed. he now stood almost directly in front of her, now.

"so, are ya'?"

"yeah."

"you weren't gon' tell me?" smoke asked, hurt evident across his face.

"why would i? it ain't yours."

———————

tag list: @brownskincheyenne @gayforgle @bigjh @ultralspblr @queenofklonnie22 @katezy2x @theegyal @anafricandaydreamer @lucidaquarian @thefutureemmywinner @lizbehave

if you’d like to be added to the tag list just lmk!

[theonejaxkin]

Jax: the Fandom Scapegoat

a half—analysis on Jax and the fandom's views on him

Warning: mentions of death/suicide, paragraph has The Amazing Digital Circus Episode 5 spoilers

one thing I geniunely cannot understand about the TADC fandom is how people can talk about the characters negatively without understanding them as a whole... I personally avoid that in any fandom space, if something isn't my specialty I don't know if I know enough to judge them. but TADC fandom... god. you people are CONFUSING. we're talking about a show that's all about its characters and their growth, and yet people act likr they have their eyelids superglued at the complexities. TADC is, and I quote, a show about trying to find meaning in life, I like to think abstraction is a representation of suicide and/or death as a whole. each character has, or represents a different type of coping, if you look at it in surface level. Jax has been my favorite since the pilot and ALL OF YOU ARE FAKE ASS FANS. THE ONES WHO STOPPED LIKING HIM ONCE THE HYPE DIED. YOU ARE WEAK AND DO NOT DESERVE CHARACTERS THAT HAVE DEPTH. ......anyway.

Jax is an asshole who likes to torture those around him for the fun of it. is what I would've summarized his character as if I was a generic fan with no critical thinking skills. Jax is complicated. Jax is troubled. Jax is filled to the brim with issues that cause him to be like That. With the new episode, it's heavily implied that he lost someone who was probably the first and only true friend in the Circus. Who was confirmed to have abstracted just before Kaufmo [pilot episode] so, if you think about it, he's been mourning through the whole show. Really puts into perspective on why he acts like he doesn't care about anything around him.

I'm not OBVIOUSLY saying that excuses the constant bullying he does to the others [or more specifically, Gangle, but more on that later] but just pointing out that he has his own problems. the thing I hate about the fanspace with this fuckass show is that they love to pretend that only their own favorite character suffers and nobody else. Every. single. one of them. No matter who people like, they grow a tunnel vision that solely their own blorbo has complexities, and nobody else. This issue usually blows on Jax, because people also love to ignore their favorites' wrongdoings and instead point the finger on the character who has the single unhealthy way of expressing his emotions. Not saying Jax shouldn't be held accountable, his bitchass should apologize to Gangle after he's fixed his own conflicts, but people just love to blame him for everything. I love him but he's the fandom scapegoat, whenever a character that's not Jax does anything relatively unnacceptable, people bring him into the picture to try and neutralize the character's actions by saying Hey, this fuckass man has done a lot worse, you know nd it's frustrating.

I'd like to point out that Jax is plenty capable of being a decent person and he does it in select moments, but you know what happens in those moments? People blame him. This is mostly Ragatha, god bless her soul, I love and also relate to her to a degree but jesus fucking christ. At the start of Fast Food Masquerade; Ragatha, Jax and Gangle play softball together. Which is interesting to me, that both of those people who disagree with Jax on almost everything, play a game with him. Jax here throws the ball at Gangle who fails to catch it, accidentally resulting in breaking her mask. Ragatha then immediately yells at Jax, asking why do you always do this? This muffled background argument is one of the most interesting things to me. This moment shows Jax's first time being geniune and acknowledging parts of himself in the show. Jax tells her how he isn't actually a bad guy, which, if you're biased to hate him, wouldn't think is geniune.

But it is. Jax is someone who's viewed as the generic asshole in everyone's eyes, and that's what I love about him. Everyone else has a set idea of who Jax is in their heads, and that stereotype will not budge no matter what Jax says, or does. and that's why he continues to be a jerk. as long as Ragatha firmly believes he means the worst all of the time, he cannot convince her otherwise. he feels trapped, angry, and hated, which is why he doubles down, and basically goes "Fine. Fuck all of you. Want me to be an ass? I'll be an ass." which sounds cliche but it is NOT. It frustrates me to see both in universe characters and fandom members use him as a scapegoat, as someone who's also been blamed for everything in an isolated group of people, it's not a fun experience. it's draining, it's annoying, and it's not worth trying to fight against. so what Jax does is he holds up his image for everyone around him that believes he's an irredeemable monster, waiting for someone and anyone to actually stop for a moment to see he's way beyond that.

In the Stargazing adventure in Untitled, Pomni sits with Jax and he starts a conversation regarding to Gangle's happiness. Jax expresses geniune curiosity and concern for Gangle, and Pomni says "I didn't think you cared about what other people like?" which Jax responds with "I just— No, yeah, you're right. I don't." which is. oh my god. so telling. when he's confronted with the others' image of him, he stops trying to be a real person and closes up all ways of vulnerability. I wish people saw beyond the jerk persona and actually tried to understand him instead of hating him for the generic asshole man character.

[booksandabeer]

A personal—and therefore separate—addition to the post I just reblogged.

This is absolutely not meant to be a comprehensive, constructive, or even coherent response to the "3 f problem." This is me thinking out loud on my own blog. I won't comment on how or why writers should or should not want or need feedback; that's not my place.

But as a reader, allow me to say this:

I understand that there is a lot frustration, disappointment, and even anger on the part of fanfic writers when it comes to the way people interact with their works or, in fact, don't interact with them—and the majority of these feelings are completely justified and backed up by the clearly noticeable drop in comments on AO3. However, as someone who actually comments a lot, I will admit that I'm frequently put off by posts that aggressively yell at me that "comments are payment" and that I "MUST comment" because otherwise I'm a bad, ungrateful person who refuses to "compensate" the author for "the cost of writing" (see also: likes are “worthless” all that counts are reblogs). Not only do these diatribes seem to reveal an unfortunate and deeply ingrained transactional, even capitalist, approach to fandom, but they're also often based in the—conscious or unconscious—assumption that readers are (and only ever will be) inherently second-class citizens of Fandomlandia who must earn their right to be a part of the fandom and who are only barely tolerated as long as they fulfill their part of the transaction.

I also continue to be slightly perplexed by the constant assurances that "ALL comments are welcome and appreciated" and that there is "no wrong way to comment."¹ And yet, I see elaborate ‘How to leave a comment’ manuals circulating on here all the time. I know that for the most part these posts are well-intentioned, and I'm genuinely glad if someone finds them to be helpful, but I fear that they are more likely to have the opposite effect. I'm not convinced that presenting people with a whole catalog of things they could potentially do wrong will actually help them overcome their anxieties and lower their inhibitions to interact with fellow fans. If anything, they make it less likely because now there’s even more pressure to Do It Right and leave The Perfect Comment. Not to mention that a lot of these guides read less like well-meaning advice and more like ‘here are 500 rules on how to comment CORRECTLY.’

¹the obvious exception here are negative or downright offensive comments, of course.

___

I also want to express my skepticism about the comment fests I see from time to time here on tumblr (and hence my reluctance to participate in them). Again, I understand that the intention behind these events is a good one. But. If what creators really want is conversation, exchange, a sense of community—is the gamification of commenting really going to bring that about? Do writers—and I ask this with complete sincerity and genuine curiosity—really want to receive 5, 10, 20 one-word or emoji comments because someone needs to fulfill their "commenting quota" for the day? Is that the kind of interaction we want to encourage? Isn't one heartfelt, specific comment (doesn't even need to be a long one!) that actually engages with a text much more meaningful than one of those drive-by comments where it's often dubious whether the person leaving it has even read the story they're commenting on? On the other hand, I do understand that if the alternative is zero comments, any sort of recognition would feel gratifying.

I don't have a solution here, but I personally don't think that turning commenting into something that feels like a chore to be ticked off a to-do list is it. Participation in fandom should not feel like a job. And yes, believe me, I am well aware that I am writing all this as someone who has never exposed herself to the terrifying vulnerability of publishing a story on the internet where it can either be picked apart by strangers or, perhaps worse, simply be ignored. As I mentioned at the beginning, I don't presume to judge in the slightest how much or what kind of feedback authors should or should not want or expect. All I'm saying is that if the desired reader response doesn't materialize—which is a terrible thing and I feel for every author who goes through this—the reaction in turn cannot be to shame readers into interaction or even insult them as “worthless” to the community.

Finally. At the end of their (very good) post, the author writes the following:

The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying.

Here's the thing, though. Discussions like the one the author refers to and yearns for are basically impossible to have these days. People keep asserting that they want community, but very few actually want to talk let alone listen to each other—at least not unless the conversation is exclusively about repeating and reaffirming views that coincide with their own and opinions that they already hold. “Discourse” has become a bad word. People go on and on about "curating their fandom experience," and more power to them if that's what makes them happy. But it's not without a certain irony that so many will lament a lack of communication and exchange of ideas, mourn dying fandoms, and complain about the barren wastelands of their tumblr dashboards, while at the same time bragging about blocking anyone and everyone who disagrees with them even slightly and on the most inconsequential of topics. They are welcome to do that of course, and let me be very clear, nobody needs to entertain assholes or put up with abusive behavior or offensive language, but curating every single critical or even just slightly differing opinion right out of your experience does not make for a diverse or healthy communication culture.

If locking yourself away in private discord servers and only staying inside your bubble of 100% like-minded people is all you want from your fandom experience then you're absolutely entitled to do so. But the bubbles keep getting smaller and smaller and so we shouldn't be surprised if, one day soon, the larger fandom community will indeed be well and truly dead.

This is all over the place, and I have no grand conclusion to offer, I'm simply working through my feelings here. I will stop now. To the three people who've made it this far: Thank you for either indulging me or politely ignoring me. Feel free to agree or disagree. Who knows? In the end, it may even turn into an actual conversation.

[zipquips]

stepped out of the lab i'm TAing with the excuse that i want to drink water (no drinks allowed in lab) but really it's so i can go and hide in the bathroom and calm down

[sskk-manifesto]

(*・ω・*)b♪

[aha-chuu]

Super disappointed by the new Dan Heng IL trailer btw like no high cloud quintet lore, hardly any actual DHIL and yeah Long lore but eh... You can read a lot of it in game already

[astralazuli]

hey, hi, I'm not gonna be able to make it today, yeah, no, I'm really busy having intense gender feelings & also a sleep attack

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[trainer-from-unova]

a second

Ⓢ english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ

ship: the void x afab!reader (x robert reynolds)

summary: void started feeling something about you, and when he discovered that bob was your boyfriend he felt frustrated. wanting to live what he lived every day he convinced you that kissing him or having sex with him wasn't being unfaithful since they both share the same body.

au: bob and void are a system

c/w: post-canon, feelings realization and denial, love confession if you squint but void's very bad at feelings, background relationship with bob, implied cheating but I'm not sure about that, teasing, noncon/dubcon rough kissing, consensual rough sex, piv sex, masturbation, fingerfucking, biting, multiple orgasm, no protection

a/n: this starts like my drabble "muscle memory" but obviously it's longer, more spicy and ends very different / english isn't my first language / edited version after watching the movie: Ⓢ

word count: 3622

Everything can change in a second, including him. As a system, one personality may not remember the experiences of the other, but the muscle memory remained. On the few occasions that Void was present he couldn't help but turn his neck in the direction ______ was facing, fix his eyes on her, prick up his ears when he heard her voice, and even feel the urge to take her hand. To make matters worse she was often in his mind, and he didn't know if they were memories that weren't his own or if it was his imagination, which, for some reason, designed all sorts of scenarios with her. Those were things, or rather according to him, distractions that got on his nerves. He wanted to believe that it was more Bob's fault than his, so when he had the chance, on one of the occasions when he had control of his body, he went to ______ to question her.

When the young woman opened the door to her bedroom after hearing a knock on it, she smiled when she saw who it was, although when she saw his serious expression, it was quickly erased.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm Void," he informed her just in case, and she nodded, "Can I have a word?"

"Yeah, come in," she said stepping aside to let him in. As she closed the door behind him he looked around her bedroom, and noticed a cork mural on one of the walls, which had pictures with several of the so-called "Thunderbolts" and other friends, but mostly with Bob, with both of them grinning from ear to ear or pouting; selfies taken by them or full body shots taken by others, in different locations and wearing clothes from different climates. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked, snapping him out of his thoughts and making him turn to look at her, who was approaching him slowly, at the same pace as he was.

"I see flashes... of you, in all situations," and if the young woman was already confused and interested in his presence in the body and in her bedroom, with that sentence the confusion and interest increased. "I don't know if they are memories of Bob or if it's my imagination playing tricks on me. I want to know if what I feel is mine or his."

"...What do you feel?" she asked intrigued, leaning closer to him.

"Weakness," he answered quickly and without any hesitation, very sure of himself as usual. She looked at him in surprise and confusion, though she tried to be discreet and didn't realise that her breathing was hitching with nerves; Void already make her nervous, not because she was particularly afraid of him but for Bob's mental well-being, and this strange conversation wasn't helping. "I feel... a certain favouritism towards you, which distracts me when it shouldn't. Has he said anything to you about it?"

"Um- yeah, well," she said with a shy smile. "We've been dating for a while."

"...Oh."

He understood everything now, including the pictures on the corkboard, but he didn't understand the frustration he felt inside him. He didn't understand what she saw in Bob because, although he hadn't met him (for obvious reasons), it was clear to him that he was better than him or anyone else in every way. It wasn't love, it couldn't be — that word had no meaning for him, and he didn't see himself capable of falling in love with a human, even if she wasn't very normal and ordinary. He could only make sense of what he felt and the fact that he found her physically attractive with one explication.

"I suppose Bob's love for me is contagious," she said trying to hide the smile that formed on her lips.

"What you call love is just a chemical reaction I feel since I have a human body, since I share a body with him," he said, not very pleased with that fact, but unable to stop his eyes from scanning her up and down, from her lips to her breasts as he felt his body heat up, and she realised, "It's just the instinct to preserve the species," and she simply rolled her eyes at such a scientific and unromantic response, but he saw the perfect opportunity to bring up one of the memories he had, and perhaps it would lead him to be able to create a similar one of his own. "Yeah, that's what I remember," he said smiling sideways as he stood dangerously close to her and her face — she didn't flinch, she was used to being so close to him, even if it was someone else, "you rolling your eyes, naked while screaming my name... God," he said almost in a whisper as he slowly approached her lips.

For a second she thought about letting him do what he intended to do, and for a second he almost succeeded — but she averted her gaze and ducked, subtly avoiding him. He froze, processing what had just happened since he wasn't expecting it, while the other one stepped back a little and realised something.

"Well, I think you're..." she sighed deeply and took a quick glance at his crotch, "having a chemical reaction to preserve the species inside your trousers," she said trying to sound as serious as possible, but at the same time the situation was so surreal that she couldn't help but want to laugh.

He lowered his gaze to look at his crotch, though he didn't really need to, because he could feel it, and it frustrated him. It also frustrated him that he felt that his hands and her hips, like their lips, were magnets, but that she didn't want to bring them together — not if it wasn't Bob, apparently.

"Just one kiss," he said trying not to sound too desperate or pathetic, let alone intimidating. "Please," he said approaching her again, taking her hands in his.

"Bob and I have never discussed whether having a relationship with you would count as infidelity..." she said worriedly as she subtly shook her head. And it wasn't that she didn't want to ask, as she was curious about the answer, but she never asked him, as Bob hated to remember the existence of Void.

"Of course it wouldn't be, we have the same body," he said with the same gesture, trying to convince her with his confidence and calm tone. "Besides, he doesn't have to know," he said as he moved closer to her face again, placing his dominant hand on her cheek and behind her neck to lift her face, "nor will he be able to," he said before finally merging their lips and wrapping his other hand around her waist.

She tensed as she felt his lips on hers, but was there anything she could do to resist? He was Void, he was stronger than her — but he had the same body as Bob and kissed just like him. She let him do it, and surprisingly, it felt as good as if he were her boyfriend, causing her to inadvertently put her hands on his shoulders. When they parted they looked at each other's lips and then into each other's eyes — he looked at her hungrily, and she looked at him confused by what she had felt, and uncertain whether to continue.

"I don't think we should," she said, "this is wrong."

"Then why did it feel so right? And why are you still in my arms?" he asked smiling sideways, mischievously. "I can offer something different as well as similar," he said stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She, still hesitant, remained silent and thoughtful as she averted her gaze. He looked at her eyes and then her lips, and from her lips to her eyes, again and again. When he grew impatient he approached her lips again, but this one pulled back again and looked him earnestly and steadily in the eyes at last.

"...Say it," she said unable to keep her eyes from wandering to his lips for a second, but quickly returned to his eyes. He pulled back a little as his smile faded. Now it was he who looked serious and thoughtful, and she knew he knew what she meant. "Why so serious?" she asked tilting her head and the smile forming on her lips, looking for their eyes to meet again and enjoying the fact that she was now the one teasing him. "It's just a shorter way of saying what you've said before," she said as he put his hand from her cheek to her waist.

"I just want to have sex with you," he said wearily.

"Three words, honey," she said as she shook her head, "Even if it's a lie, just say it and I'm yours for a while. This is a barter, it works like this."

"I love you," he said defeated.

"See?" she asked teasingly. "It wasn't that hard."

Wanting to silence her and feel her closer again he moved closer to merge their lips again, and this kiss was better than the last one for she was ready for it.

When they broke apart for lack of air he raised his hand in the direction of the door to bolt it shut like a jedi (or rather, sith), not wanting any interruptions from the others in the house.

The clothes were a nuisance he wanted to get rid of violently. He would have been able to tear the fabrics of her clothes with his bare hands had she not stepped forward and begun to undress. He was in the greatest hurry to undress, and his eyes again scanned her body from top to bottom. Quickly the clothes ended up on the floor, making a path to the bed.

"Look at you... So hungry for sex, so human," she said still with her tone and smirk, already lying on the bed as he climbed over her like a predator over its prey. He was looking at her like one, like a victorious hunter, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like being looked at in that way — Bob had never looked at her like that before.

"I'm going to prove to you that there's nothing human in me."

Part of her wanted to ask him why a "God" like him needed so badly to prove to a human like her that he was also a God in bed if he supposedly didn't love her and it was just a chemical reaction he wanted to soothe and satisfy, but she assumed correctly that he wouldn't like to be questioned on that score and let him do it.

He leaned over her, and she could feel his erect member brushing against her. Now he wanted to scan her with his sense of touch, so he touched and squeezed with his hands wherever he wanted to touch as she spread her legs and rested her hands on his shoulders.

His face hid in her neck, which he bit and sucked. Then Void's lips descended to her breasts, where he intended to do the same and more. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away as she felt one of his hands grasp one of them tightly as she felt his teeth bite and stretch the nipple of the other. He wanted to devour her and mark her. He wanted to leave something of his own in her, and hopefully the next time Bob got his hands on her he would realise it wasn't him that did it, making him feel more insecure, sad and angry and thus having an easy opportunity to have dominance over the body and repeat what he was doing again.

When he came back up to her face he kissed her again quickly and intensely, and she was about to discover another difference between him and Bob: he got straight to the point and Bob took his time. He was devouring her mouth with such a relentlessness that it seemed he was actually hungry, wanting to satisfy his appetite with a good piece of meat. Her hands slid from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, slipping the hollows of her fingers through his locks of long hair as he thrust his tongue inside her, eliciting subtle moans from both of them as their tongues made contact.

He wanted to indulge his most primal instincts once and for all, and at this point it was almost a physiological need, but he took pity on her and decided to touch her, to make her enjoy it more and prepare her for what was next. Also, deep down, he wanted to do what Bob was lucky enough to be able to do whenever he wanted.

He settled in on her right and she closed her eyes as Void's dominant hand began to slide too low, seeking her warmth and wetness. His index and middle fingers just stroked over her folds, marvelling for a few seconds at the wetness of anticipation as she felt his erect member against her right thigh and a teasing smile against her neck.

"You're so wet," he said in her ear as he caressed her.

"It's not personal," she said, not wanting it to go to his head. He couldn't help snorting through his nose — to be honest he liked her sense of humour.

Void slid his fingers up to the top of her vaginal lips to caress her clit with an almost unique energy and enthusiasm, without warning and making her moan and writhe instantly. Luckily for both of them the walls of the base were soundproof, and probably by muscle memory he knew exactly where to touch. And even as she tried to move her hips to seek even more stimulation (or maybe try to pull away because it was too much pleasure) his other hand clamped tighter on her, preventing her from being able to move any further. She was a mess who only knew how to moan and talk nonsense, but she really wanted to avoid giving him the satisfaction of hearing the word "God" from her lips, even if she didn't say it in reference to him — he was already getting too much satisfaction out of seeing her in this state because of him.

When she noticed him stop masturbating her there, just as she was on the verge of orgasm, she noticed him slide his fingers back into her vaginal lips, and his fingers made their way inside her as well without warning. She wrapped her arms around his head, moaning at the intrusion. He was merciful only at first, as he pushed them in. Then he began to move them in a steady rhythm, causing the wetness inside her to be heard. When her orgasm came he couldn't help but form a smile of mischievous pride.

Void tried to search inside his mind for any shred of patience or sanity he had left, but he found none of that inside him — he was only burning with the energy of a million suns. He withdrew his fingers to finally massage his member a little, preparing to finally enter — this time the way he really wanted to. As he positioned himself between her legs and almost without thinking (out of habit) she tried to bring her hand towards the member pointing at her like an arrow, but before she could even brush against it he filled the void inside her, ignoring any cordiality but fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. She tried to stifle a great moan as she felt him fully inside her.

His gaze remained fixed on her face as he thrust his member in and out of her — his long, tousled hair falling across his forehead and eyes, his mouth letting out light moans and his breath hitching. Void's hands stayed on her hips, pulling her closer to him as he increased the intensity of his thrusts even more. Quickly the bed frame began to make its own sound, with a very faint metallic squeak and small knocks against the wall that grew louder as he leaned and settled over her. His hands went to her legs, forcing them behind his back, and she too went back to hugging his head and clutching at his hair.

"Say it," he said in his typical deep voice in her ear.

"God," she cried in his. That reminder of what he was was music to his ears, but more than a God he was an animal — a wild dog in heat.

Quickly her mind began to feel increasingly foggy, beginning to feel a great warmth inside her lower abdomen along with the wet sounds of their private parts colliding. She knew she was about to cum, and when she did, he, far from stopping, kept going. Deep down she was willing him not to stop — she begged him, not only with her eyes, but also in words mixed with whimpers. At that moment she was out of her mind, unable to think clearly.

Thanks to his supernatural strength he was able to have a lot of stamina, but the accelerated pace soon took its toll in the sense that he was about to cum too. He didn't want to, he wanted to hold on as long as he could inside her — her insides were still so tight, wet and warm that all he wanted to do was keep going and not stop for a second. He thrust deeper than he should have, stealing her breath for a second, and then he cum inside her, stopping short as he filled her and sighed deeply.

He pulled out and dropped down on top of her, but he didn't have a second to relax, as she pushed him off of her and moved to the side, seemingly annoyed. He knew it couldn't be because he had cum inside her, as he knew it didn't matter to her as there was no risk of getting pregnant.

"No aftercare?" he asked confused and slightly annoyed as he watched her reach over to the bedside table next to her, taking a half-empty packet of tissues between her fingers.

"Do you mind?" she asked now, annoyed and slightly confused as she got out of bed.

"I just told you that I love you!" he reminded her indignantly as he pointed with his arm to the spot where that had happened, where they were standing before, because he did want to do that — he wanted to relax and have her hold him after what they'd done, after what they'd been through.

"Didn't you just want to fuck?" She asked as she bent down and picked up his clothes from the floor to throw them on the bed, letting him know that she wanted him to get up and get out of there as soon as possible.

"I made you cum twice, you have my cum-" he said pointing to her crotch where it was starting to come out, and she grabbed a tissue from the small plastic packet to quickly wipe it off.

"Bob make me cum more and cums at the same time as me," she reported casually and without even looking at him as she threw the handkerchief into a small bin she had lying around.

Where was the passive girl from before, who begged him in every possible way not to leave her side? It seemed that now she was the one who had changed her personality, wasn't he the only system in that house? He didn't understand her — first she refused to kiss him, then she asked him to tell her he loved her, then they fucked, and finally this. Was this how unpredictable and unstable he and Bob were perceived?

"Didn't this mean anything to you?" he asked as he watched her hurry back and forth, picking up her old clothes and grabbing new ones from the wardrobe.

"Did it for you?" she asked stopping short to look at him seriously as she raised an eyebrow.

"...No," he replied, or rather, reminded himself as he got out of bed.

"Hurry up," she said annoyed pointing to the bedroom door with her head, indicating that she wanted him to leave as soon as possible, "and leave Bob alone," she added quickly, and even though she was the weaker of the two, it sounded like a threat.

She would admit that Void did well and had a good time humiliating him for acting like a human (or rather a dog in heat), including when he said "Please" when he asked her for a kiss, when he sort of confessed and when she coaxed the "I love you" that didn't really mean anything to her. Besides, she would never forget the hungry look in his eyes as he watched her, but if she agreed it was because he had the same body as her boyfriend — he kissed with the same lips and after a kiss she couldn't refuse to go on, going for more. But the one she loved was Bob, the shy and respectful boy who looked at her as if she was the Goddess there, who took all the time in the world to caress and kiss her between all kinds of compliments and "I love you"s that really moved her and she responded. And Void, although he didn't understand it, knew it. For a second he forgot that she wasn't really his. He may have felt favouritism for her, but she felt favouritism for Bob. He knew she wasn't lying when she said it wasn't personal. And unlike this one, he was truly alone.

© trainer-from-unova / alicent burton | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[nemesyaaa]

get in, loser || simp!classmate!rafe x mean!popular!reader

summary : admiration ? too light. obssession ? not enough. devotion ? perfect treatment.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. smut. oral. sub!rafe (boy toy). act of devotion. public masturbation. p in v. verbal humiliation. lollipop. facesitting. mean girls. a lot of teasing. fingers sucking. a bit of cum eating. be aware of the warnings before reading. very pink content, i'm sorry.

author's note : i just wanted to write another thing about them...this is highly depraved.

you never had a boyfriend and you’ve never wanted one because you didn’t know how it would serve you. you already had everything, you didn't need a man by your side to be the center of attention. you were the perfect replica of the mean girls from the cult films of the 2000s. you could just as easily be a Regina George or a Jennifer Check. the world revolved around you, which meant that without you, everything fell apart.

and above all you didn't need a boyfriend because you had a boy toy now. rafe cameron. he was so obedient and docile, well he was especially so because you were a good mistress.

he didn't listen to you because he was afraid of you, but because he would do anything for you. he lived by your rules and your principles.

and today you wanted to have fun. it was the last day of school before the weekend and you were wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, a white tank that allowed him to see the size of your boobs and your perked nipples through the clothing. but above all, you didn't wear a bra so they swayed in slow motion with each of your steps. the way they were slowly bouncing simultaneously pressed together in the fabric while you walked towards him, phone in hand.

you wore a plump gloss which gave volume to your lips, but above all which made your mouth so luscious and shiny.

when you sat next to him, he shifted slightly but mostly stared at you because it wasn't usual. you were always near your girlfriends, you always took care to ignore him in class and even in public. you loved playing with his feelings. as a bitch, you were good at this.

you loved laughing with your girlfriends watching him while knowing he would feel miserable and pathetic because he would never know if it was him you were talking about. you loved getting him hard before going to class just to see him squirm in his chair, and be unable to form two sentences in front of the teacher without stammering. but above all, you loved being cruel, pretending through messages that you were going to touch him, suck him, drive him crazy to finally change your mind in front of him. “oh really? when did i say that? you know, i'm very confused. "

"o-on...by message..."

"are you saying i'm a liar, cameron?" you approached him threateningly, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout upset, forcing him to step back because your heels kicked on the ground was quietly intimidating. “oh you're gonna cry, stupid ? "

he softened himself, thinking that you will be kind to him. his shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. you slid your mouth next to his ear. “you should, loser. ”

his eyes were in tears as you were playing your favorite game — bully him. sometimes you could be such a whore. but you were also terribly hot and he hated as much as he loved the effect you had on him.

you bust out laughing, before running a hand through his hair to gently pat his head. “I was kidding. don't be mad at me...or let me do something for you..." you pushed his hand into your panties. “do your job. and you better do it well. ”

he shaked his head vividly, as you could feel his fingers making their way to your pussy. he loved being inside you so much, even if it was just his hand. but sometimes you managed to make him so sick because you purposely didn't whine just to make him frustrated. you watched him exhaust himself with a puppy glaze, his completely soaked fingers thrusting in and out, fucking you deep, pooling your own wetness out of your cunt while fingering you. “h-he…lp…” he pleaded, his own saliva running down his chin.

and you stood there with your lips sealed while he moaned against the side of your face because it felt so good. but it was also hard for you to contain all the spasms and pleasure that was coursing through your body. you were forced to control yourself, to not show anything while his fingertips moved back and forth inside your walls, slamming down your canal. his cock was so hard in his pants. it was terribly painful at this point. and you didn't care. all that frustration you inflicted on him, he took it out on the sex doll in his room. all the cum you didn't let him implode was going to be released in this girl's pussy.

today, you sat next to him, placing your bag noisily on his table.

“I thought you didn’t want us to be seen together. " he commented.

" oh don't worry. I told my friends I was doing charity today. " you replied.

class had started and you had a lollipop in your mouth for a few minutes. and you knew very well that Rafe was unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying when you were sucking that shit so close to him, with your sticky tongue latched on over the candy. you were making discreet but obscene noises. it was a classic cherry lollipop.

his cheeks had heated. you twisted your tongue around the candy, playing with it a little.

your muscle curled around the lollipop like you did so well around his cock, a few dripping licks had been liberally placed while you pretended to concentrate on the lesson.

“get your dick out.“ you ordered. “i want to have fun.”

you didn't need to say it twice before his cock was released, springing free against his thighs. you don't know why you were always so amazed at his size. However, you had already seen it several times. but damn, that was the only thing he could dethrone you on. his heavy cock hung in the air, precum beading at the red tip.

he wore the cock ring that you ordered him to wear. “you're gonna be even bigger, loser. “you encouraged him.

you pushed the lollipop out of your lips to bring it to the glistening tip of his dick. you used the side of the candy to feel the precum wetting the sugar with amusement. you let the substance soak into the candy before letting it run down his erect shaft. you aimed the sweet treat at his penis, tracing the hard veins that ran along his member, while teasing him softly with the edible part of the stick.

you stroked his cock with the lollipop, teasing his entire length. you drove the candy over his hardened cock, watching the blood pressure enlarge his thick veins. the lollipop was so small next to it. when the candy had been completely wet and dripping, between a mixture of cum, sugar and saliva, you had slipped it between Rafe's lips. you pushed it against his tongue, forcing him to gasp over it, before applying pressure to his cheeks with your fingers to watch him swallow.

but you weren't finished, you wanted more. you spat discreetly into your hand before wetting his entire cock. you wanted to please him a little so you gave him this handjob he dreamed of in class. you fisted him up and down, feeling him grow in your grip, while you worked all dick. his balls were hard and heavy, perfectly caged between his legs.

he was trying so badly to hide his urge to moan, his lips were twisted and tense, his teeth buried inside his bottom one. he squirmed in his chair, his tummy twitching hard from the pleasure. you were so good with your hand. while you stroked him, you loved to tighten your fingers around him. it was at this moment that his gasps were more intense and that you started to pump him faster. the speed of your movements let him so weak, as cries rolling down his cheeks.

he was so pretty when he was about to explode. “ is your dick hard for me, or because you're enjoying being a pussy ? ” you murmured right in his ear.

strangely, you let him take your virginity on the same day. after you invited him to your house. and then there was no one at home, no evidence, no traces. no one would know.

“get on the bed. ” you commanded. “ you've got such a pretty face, will you let me sit on it ? i know you will because you will do anything to please me. ”

he obeyed in a second and you undressed. you had taken off all of your clothes before sitting on his face. you had always dreamed of doing this and this was the perfect opportunity.

“now, it's your choice. you can be a good boy that makes me cum with his tongue...or just a good dog that only knows how to lick. show me how you want to be treated. ”

" y-yes...yes..i just want to make you feel good." he just pleaded, before being silenced by the contact of your pussy on his lips.

you were heavy. but in such a good way, he was so turned on by the way you were sitting on him, pressuring the weight of your body on his mouth, making yourself a seat on his face while he was already lapping at your soaked folds, tearing your lips apart with his tongue and starting to licks at your parts. your taste was so sweet, filled with the froth of his saliva. you began to rub yourself, pushing your cunt deeper inside his mouth to muffle his pathetic wimps. his voice was so needy.

as you were fucking his whole face, your asscheeks was brushing his nose, making him even more horny. his dick was thick, literally twitching over his flat tummy. the hard lines of his muscles were swollen.

you couldn't help but moan, but you wouldn't dare saying his name. he was lapping with such devotion, feeding your greedy cunt with needy and fat laps. his tongue was inside you, ruining your walls with appetite. he was drooling at the corner of his mouth, and on the underside of your butt.

it was as if his tongue only belonged inside you. you tried to stay in control even though you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. “It feels so good..." you had escaped, holding your breasts in the palm of your hands.

you gripped the sheets when he started to get wilder in the thrusts of his tongue. your body moved in sync. as he was below you, you took the opportunity to move your ass above him, lightly slapping his face with the jiggles of your cheeks. oh god, he was so pathetic, completely hard being crushed under your weight, having his face below your soaked pussy, being covered in your wetness and drool, having his cock painfully hard and leaking, because his mouth was fucked. you could feel his heavy breath coating the heat of your core.

he had cum all over his own stomach, and you rolled your eyes. it wasn't the first time he came without warning, it was so compulsive for him. he couldn't control it.

you lay down next to him before collecting the cum on his tummy, teasing the sticky white steam with your fingers before plunging them inside your pussy. you filled yourself with his releasing, your two eyes on him, white loads leaking at your entrance. “ are you gonna Fuck me or do I need to make all the job by myself ? ”

“ i-i…”

“ such a pathetic boy, can't even speak properly with his mouth. ”

you spread your legs, and he came closer. he was so needy that he was nervous. his hands were shaking, barely able to hold his throbbing cock. you had to wait a few minutes before he slipped inside you. he whimpered all his way to your walls at the comfort of your pussy around him.

because he couldn't wait any longer, he conducted several forceful thrusts into the deep of your core. he could see his own cum floating with your wetness at the outline of your swollen cunt. his cries was loud as he pounded into you deeper, making sure he strikes your spot everytime. he was sweating, a drop of sweats watering from his torso. your legs was locked againt his arms as he was fucking you like he ever dreamed of.

his breathing was running shorter and shorter as the heat was stronger. he sunk every inch of his dick in your hole.

he never fucked a girl and he didn't know if he was doing good but his head was empty. all his neurons were dead and it was all about sex and pleasure. and you were nothing better, all dumb by his fat cock, his merciless length feeding your insides. his face was hidden in your neck, his lips salivating on your flesh. " i-i-m...cu..a-aah..plea.se…"

it wasn't already more than ten minutes but he couldn't help. he could cum literally every five minutes inside you, because of his urges, because of the way you make him feel. you were stuffed hard, all his shaft buried in your canal. every hard back and forth left his dick all red and sticky while he was leaving beads of cum on your slit. “ that's a good boy. ” you praised, biting your lower lips. “ but now, are you gonna make me cum ? ”

you wrapped a hand around his throat while he was on top of you. you let him fuck you and abuse your cervix. when he felt your fingers around his neck, it completely turned him on. and all his thrusts had become even more intense as he was increasing the pace. your stomach was spiraling, and his eyes were glued to that.

“h-harder..please..." he was begging at you from more pressure.

"such a freak..." you replied, before wrapping his neck tighter.

your grip was now tight around his throat, his eyes rolled back as he was still fucking you raw, all your pussy milking him. you were draining him. the blue of his gaze was perfect, shiny in the light of the room because of tears. he exploded again and again until his dick start to play difficult to fuck you another round.

he was so handsome.

it wasn't your habit but you kept him in your arms. you felt the need to be nice to him after all his efforts. he was still sweltering and sweating, his body decorated with cute red marks, and you couldn't help but smile.

“hey, you did so good for me. i'm proud, very proud. ” you gently said.

your compliments had given him chills. and his tears had again welled up in his eyes.

“please, cameron.stop being a crybaby. ” you sighed with an annoying tone. “god instead of cries, i should hear how grateful you are to let you fuck me. ”

“thanks...y-you...”

“if your friends saw you like that..." you scoffed. "and if they saw you like that..." you whispered against his ear. "I can already hear the gossip...oh and your father, what would he think of you?"

you felt him shiver under your touch. “that's why you need to be kind with me, rafe. but you're a good boy, aren't you? say it, say it to me. "

“I'm...your good boy. ” he cried out with a gasp, shaking tears on his cheeks.

“ look at yourself, not only are you a good boy, rafe cameron but you're also such a pathetic thing. this is why i need to make you mine. all mine.”

you stood up to take a red marker and marked on his back with permanent ink. “ y/n’s private property. "

“now, i wish you luck in hiding that you belong to me. “

he grimaced. “ do you understand what it means ? you have my name on your fucking back. and you will have such a hard time removing it. you wanted to be obsessed with me ? fine, because now i leave you no choice than being devoted to me. you wake up, it's me. every time you jerk off, it's me. everything you think, it's me. everytime you breathe, it's me. i want everyone on that fucking island to know which pussy make you so dumb and pathetic. is it clear ? ” your hands were gripping around his throat as you spoke.

he nodded his head like a good sub.

“ words. ”

“ yes…i just…i just want you. ” he sobbed, your hands around his neck making it difficult for him to answer properly.

“ so what are you thinking right now ?”

“ you. ” he replied with such a pretty feverish tone.

“ good answer, little boy. ” you praised, while giving him a little pat on the cheeks. “ now, who do you like ? ”

“ you. it's you. ” he repeated.

“ do you want me ? ”

“ i want you. ” he confessed, moving into the space of your spreaded legs. his head was now on your lap, while you stroked his hair gently. “ i need you…” he continued.

“ of course, you need me. i'm the only one to care about you. ” when you rubbed his bottom lip, feeling the sweet wetness of his drool against your thumb, he let out a soft moan before opening his mouth, allowing you to brush fingers in his tongue.

his gaze was precious, a bit teary as his whole mouth was starting to suck your fingertips. his lips were moving faster around your fingers, taking them to the back of his warm tongue. you loved to watch your digits disappear on the side of his muscle, the sucking sounds filling the room as you could feel him grow again in his pants. he was whining at the feeling of pleasure, keeping your fingers in his mouth.

“ mmh…stay like that. i want to take some pictures…” you said in your casual mean girl tone. “ you know, baby…for sleepovers with my girlfriends , we really need something to make fun of and nothing makes us laugh more than pathetic men. ”

your gaze went down his thighs. “ oh god, i'm gonna take such beautiful pictures…please, continue to make your dick leak. soak yourself, show them how pretty you are. i want them to be jealous of what we have. ”

[pisceantarot]

⋆ ｡  𐀔  ° ‧     what does this person want you to know?

KEYWORDS: romance, relationships, (past) situationships, seperation, energy check between you and your person of romantic interest.

ꕤ * ． pile one. → ꕤ * ． pile two. → ꕤ * ． pile three.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 while my main intention was to channel someone you're already involved with, you can also use this for your sp, a future partner, a soulmate, or whoever you're thinking about!!

PILE # 01

your person is a true yearner, i'll tell you this much. their heart is very fragile, they want you to know they're scared of getting hurt, of being betrayed. this is a person who didn't have many healthy relationships in the past. they're confused, unsure what to do, and just wishes to avoid it all right now.

they're very much fantasising about a future with you, though... they want it all with you, they loooove your laugh. (i'm seeing that maybe they want to travel with you? explore the world together is what i heard.) with you on their side, they feel invincible. they really want you on their team. when this person has been processing their emotions healthily, i see that they're very attentive, unafraid of showing a passionate desire towards you, and generally very caring and loving. they appreciate you so much, you're the brightest star in their existence.

however, if this person isn't standing strong in their emotions, i see them being very hot and cold. when you're together, everything feels right. you feel secure, you feel like there's something there. but when you're apart i see that you're very confused by the energy of your relationship. your mind appears to be your biggest enemy: do they like me? am i good enough for them? is this something that could work out? (i see that this is you picking up on the energy of your person... their confusion and doubts are making you doubtful as well.)

what i'm hearing is that you need to focus on your own healing and stability, so you can help this person heal energetically as well. this is a connection that's mostly guided by the divine. (currently there's a lot happening behind the scenes that you aren't even aware of.) you're meant to heal and complete certain cycles with this person for sure, this is not the end of the connection. so have faith, and trust that everything will align!!

a letter from your person: do you think about me too? i can't get you out of my head, no matter how much i try. you're always there. it frustrates me, how easy it would be for you to secure a spot inside of my heart. how well we could work together if i let my guard down. i'm scared, though. scared of hurting you, scared of hurting myself, scared of failing. what if i have something so beautiful with you and then ruin it by my fears and self sabotaging tendencies? i don't know why you still stick around, but i'm trying to be a better person. please call me out on my bullshit, i need you to be firm and stand your ground. don't take shit from me, i know i need to step up. i care for you, i'm trying to put my ego aside.

PILE # 02

god help my soul, i'm sensing a very intense and determined energy coming from your person 😭 this is definitely giving me the energy of an ex, or a situationship that was meant to take off but somehow didn't (i see this being your person's fault, for sure). this person absolutely regrets losing you. they're the reason things aren't moving forward. they blame themselves, they're angry and devastated. they wish they could've done things differently.

in the most favourable outcome, i see this person working on healing themselves. they're going through an ego death/dark night of the soul and are questioning everything and everyone around them. in this reflection i see them wanting to become a better person (for you), if you're willing to give them a chance. they want to love you right, they want to show you how much you mean to them... i see them wanting to swoop in and steal you away so you can ride into the sunset together!!

if this person refuses to face their demons, however, i see that spirit is going to give them a very difficult time unfortunately</3 they will hit them with the same harsh lessons over and over again until they finally see the light. in this case i see spirit keeping this connection in a separation (or limbo) in order to protect you. you can't heal this person right now... if they open their eyes, if they're able to see... they would understand what you truly mean to them. what a treasure they had in front of them. they will get there, though. it might take some time, i'm hearing.

depending on your situation with this person, only take them back if you can see that they've changed!! you know this is the case when they come back and show humble energy, that they're able to admit that they were wrong. i see, for some of you, they truly fucked up. so please use your discernment! losing you has been their biggest regret, though, and they will be carrying this guilt for a very long time...

a letter from your person: i'm going to win you back. i'll return to you and prove that i can be the person you need me to be. i'm sorry for hurting you in the past, i'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. apologies won't cut it, i know things need to change. i'm working on facing my demons. you were right, you made me realise i need to heal. i hope you still will be there when i come back... do you have someone new? are you willing to forgive me? i messed up, and losing you will be the biggest regret of my life.

PILE # 03

this is such a sweet and gentle energy, i just want to squish their cheeks<33 i see many different scenarios for you two. you could be dating, this could be a secret admirer, this could be your friend... this person feels very hesitant to me. i feel like they often have a poker face or wear a mask. i sense that you might pick up that they're hiding something from you/aren't being 100% authentic. don't be afraid, they aren't hiding anything malicious! if anything, i see they're hiding the depth of their emotions for you. they fear coming off too strong, they fear scaring you away. if you're in a relationship together, i see them wanting to take the next step... (making things official, living together, an engagement maybe? 🤭) they want to move things forward in a fruitful way, they want to give you all the love in the world. they're sooooo gentle with you, this makes my heart want to burst with love. they have such good intentions with you and they want to make you happy for as long as you'll have them<3

i don't feel any negative energies for this pile</3 literally, the worst case scenario here is that your person is a bit hesitant and reluctant to show the depths of their true feelings for you. they fear rejection, they fear being judged by you. (i see this person really cares and values your opinion of them, so your rejection would hurt tbh.) they're mostly testing the waters right now, trying to figure out what you want and what you're ready for. this is a very considerate person! but again, their insecurities might stop them from taking any action right now.

you have such a special place in their heart, it's no joke. you must have such a beautiful and powerful energy because this person literally loves every. single. thing. about. you. they see you as their sun, their moon, their stars, their whole universe... you mean a lot to them. i think the depth of their emotions scares them as well, to be honest. but i see them being brave and facing this head on. they want you, they know they want you, so i see them making a very significant move in the very near future.

please, my pile 3, be gentle with their heart<3 their energy is so pure and wholesome, they could be such a bright light in your darkness! i'm hearing that, if you aren't sure of this person's intentions, know that it's safe to trust them. you'll be very pleasantly surprised with what's waiting for you if you open your heart!

a letter from your person: do you like me? you shine so bright, sometimes it's blinding me. you radiate so much warmth, you make me so happy. when i'm with you there's no other place i'd rather be. did you know this? i'm placing my heart in your hands, i surrender myself to you...

(i'm not getting much more from them because this person is a bit shy... but when i'm in their energy... their heart just glows thinking about you. i see shy smiles, unable to keep eye contact without blushing, i feel like sometimes they need to take breaks from you because you're so overwhelming. love love love this energy 🩷)

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

-

part ten

[webslinger-holland]

Being the Hero | Bob Reynolds from Thunderbolts*

Summary: Being stuck in the bunker forces everyone to work together in order to get out. And one of them ends up kinda being the hero.

Warning: Thunderbolts* spoiler alert, just some swearing and teasing from Walker

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4 k

Type: Mini Series

Story Masterlist

Peering up into the dark, empty elevator shaft made all of them realize just how hard it was going to be getting out of this place, especially since none of them could see the top. The bunk was at least a mile below the surface of the earth and now the challenge was getting out.

"So none of us fly?" Yelena wondered curiously. She looked around at the group of misfits she'd literally just met not ten minutes ago. "What...do we all just punch and shoot?"

Walker, being his cocky self, stepped forth wearing a proud smirk. He sent a wink Y/n's way, which only caused her to scrunch your nose in disgust.

"Don't worry; I got this," Walker reassured everyone. He really wanted to show off that super soldier serum those scientists gave him, because he somehow managed to jump inhumanly high up through the elevator shaft.

With eyes transfixed on the mass of darkness above them, it only took a few seconds for them to see the super soldier falling back down to their level and landing hard on his backside.

"You should try that again," Ava suggested.

Yelena couldn't wipe the massive smile of amusement from her face. Bob, with hands clasped together and covering his mouth, looked the most concerned. And Y/n simply rolled her eyes at his weak attempt to escape.

"We're pretty far down here," Walker groaned in pain. Yelena giggled to herself as Walker pulled himself to his feet.

"Okay, okay why don't you--," Walker was speaking to Ava. He pointed up and down rapidly. "...walk up through the walls or whatever and then just throw us a rope down."

"Yeah," Yelena agreed.

"Well, first of all, someone other than you would have to ask me. And second, of all I have to know where I'm going because I've never been able to hold it for longer than a minute. So I'd just get lost in an ocean of dirt and then I'd be crushed to death. Alright?" Ava spewed out.

"Just a minute?" Walker seemed unimpressed.

"Oh, shut up." Ava scoffed.

"What about you?" Walker now pointed to Y/n who only stood across from him. All heads turned to look at her expectantly.

"What about me?" Y/n wondered curiously. Her eyes briefly flickered to Bob who stood beside her, only to catch him hastily looking away from her.

"Couldn't you just...manipulate us to go..." Walker pointed up the elevator shaft. She narrowed her eyes in slight confusion. "You know...up?"

"Uh no, I can't make you 'go up' because I don't have telekinesis; I have osteokinesis." She quickly corrected him.

"Oh right," Walker acted as if he knew what she was talking about.

"Which means I could just break every bone in your body and leave you here for dead, but then again, I'd still be stuck down here so we're back at square one." She was growing more frustrated with him by the minute.

"Okay," Walker nodded slowly. He backed off mostly from fear. "That's fair."

"Oh my god, we suck." Yelena groaned and placed her hand over her head.

"Uh...I have an idea," Bob suggested timidly.

Ever so shyly, Bob directed everyone into the middle of the elevator shaft with their backs nearly pressed together. Naturally, when Bob tried to move Walker slightly to the left, Walker threatened him with:

"Don't touch me; just tell me where to stand." And Bob held his hands up in defense.

Moving Yelena and Ava only caused them to stare at Bob questionably. When Bob shifted to stand in front of Y/n, he gently placed his hands on either sides of her arms to move her. She stared up at him with a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips, which only made him blush and turn away.

"Then we just..." Bob fitted himself to stand besides her. "Link arms."

Everyone rather reluctantly listened to him and laced their arms together. Standing awkwardly in a circle with backs pressed together, each of them waited for something to happen.

"Now what?" Yelena asked.

"We climb," Bob stated plainly. "One step at a time. We keep our backs together to keep us from falling."

"It's not a bad plan," Y/n confessed quietly. Bob's head snapped towards her and he perked up happily. "We can at least try."

Now, after climbing for about twenty minutes, all of them were probably ten feet off the ground. The shear pressure that kept them from falling was the task of keeping their backs pressed firmly together and moving at the same pace.

Walker, always wanting to take charge, instructed them when to take a step with their right foot and when to step with their left foot. They were already growing tired of the same notion, but none of them could let up unless they wanted to fail.

"Ew, which one of you is wet?" Yelena asked in slight disgust.

"I--I run hot," Bob spoke from beside her. "Sorry."

"Someone's got a weird, hard butt." Walker complained.

"That's not my butt, it's my suit." Ava corrected him.

"Well, you need to get a new suit." Y/n suggested because she also felt how hard the suit was against her side. "Something softer, maybe more comfortable."

"Oh, pardon me for the inconvenience. I only spent my entire life in labs, hooked up to machines so I could create this physical cage to keep my material body from disintegrating at all times. Yeah, I'm really sorry about that." Ava spat.

Yelena began to chuckle across from her. "You don't want to start the whole sob story game. I win. Enslaved, child assassin over here."

"Well, you were just a kid, so..." Walker's voice trailed off.

"Oh, so that's a good thing now?" Yelena challenged.

"I'm just saying it might be nice to know that you didn't really know any better," Walker responded and Yelena stopped.

"Thanks; I feel way better," Yelena said sarcastically.

"Does it really matter? We were all experimented on at one point or another. So why don't we just shut up for once and work together so we can get out of this mess?" Y/n spoke over them.

There was a brief moment of silence that fell over them. They'd even stopped climbing.

"I--I like that plan," Bob confessed. Y/n let out a small sigh and hung her head low.

"Thank you, Bob." She nodded in acceptance.

All of them lifted their heads to look up the rest of the length of the empty elevator, grunting and panting from the energy they were exerting. They felt disheartened to find that they were still only staring up into the darkness and couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel.

There came some point in which none of them knew how long they'd been climbing or how high up they were anymore. None of them were able to see the ground beneath them, but none of them could see the exit either.

Their legs were growing more sore with each passing minute and their backs ached from how hard they were pressed together. A light sweat had taken over their bodies.

"This is crazy. I can't even see the floor," Ava peered down and Bob shut his eyes tight.

"Can we not talk about how high up we are: I'm just not great with heights," Bob requested.

"Hey, I think I see the door," Walker looked up to spot the opening of the elevator.

Trying to peer around one another, the majority of them could see what Walker was talking about. They shuffled slightly to secure their footing against the wall. Now, they were tasked with trying to figure out how they were all going to get up there.

"Ah...okay, okay. Now what?" Yelena asked once again.

"Uhm, I guess one of us should go," Ava glanced down at her left to see her arms hooked with Y/n's and then to her right where she was linked to Walker. "First?"

"Then the other four immediately fall," Yelena exclaimed in disbelief.

"Shit," Walker cursed to himself, especially with them being so close to getting out of this mess.

"Sorry. I guess I didn't really think this far ahead," Bob apologized.

"Hey," Y/n nudged him slightly in the side so that he'd turn his head and look at her. "It's alright. We'll figure something out."

"Genius plan, Bobby." Walker rudely interrupted them. Bob stared ahead of himself.

"Always making things worse," Bob mumbled quietly, but Y/n managed to hear him.

Ava's boots began to scrape against the stone walls. Her heart felt like it was about to plummet along with her. "Oh, these bloody boots. I don't think I can hold this much longer," Ava confessed.

"Hand me your baton. I can reach it," Walker suggested to Yelena.

"What? No way! You're just going to leave us," Yelena scoffed in disbelief.

"Please don't do that," Y/n requested. She instinctively reached down to grab Bob's hand and squeezed it tightly. He felt the tips of his ears growing red; he was just thankful nobody could see him. "I don't want to fall to my death today."

"Okay, spin us round and I can latch us on," Yelena spoke while glancing towards the opening again.

All the while, Bob began to feel the irresistible tickle growing in his nose. His mouth parted just as the tension was starting to build. He shook his head with the hopes of being able to shake the sneeze off.

"I'm not spinning us around. Okay? Somebody's gotta go first," Walker said loudly.

"Cucumber! Cucumber! Cucumber!" Bob shouted over them. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, fighting every possible nerve in his body.

"What the hell is happening?" Yelena asked with wide, confused eyes.

"Growing up somebody told me that you can stop a sneeze if you confuse your brain, I always just yell cucumber." Bob hastily explained to them.

"Okay?" Y/n seemed slightly confused.

"I have to sneeze. But if I sneeze, you know then I'm gonna loose control," Bob stated.

Each of them felt the sudden pressure of needing to get out of this predicament otherwise they were undoubtedly going to fall. With Ava's boots scraping, Y/n beginning to slide down slightly, and Bob fighting the urge to sneeze, they were running out of time and options.

"This is insane. Okay? I can get us all out of here; I just need to go first," Walker was the only one with a clear shot of the opening.

"No, no, no, no. There's gotta be another way," Ava suggested while peering over her shoulder.

"Oh no," Bob said to himself.

With his head raised back, Bob felt the tickle in his nose returning painfully and his chin quivered as he fought the urge.

"Cucumber! Cucumber! Cucumber!" The three girls yelled with every hope of helping him not sneeze.

"Just give me the thing; I've got it," Walker reached behind him, grabbed the baton from Yelena's back, and launched himself to grapple for the opening.

In doing so, the rest of them began to fall down the elevator shaft. Ava, thinking quickly, grabbed her knives and drove them into the sides of the wall to stop her descent. Yelena grabbed onto her backside and quickly leaned backwards to extend the wire from her wrist.

Falling rapidly head first, the wire wrapped itself around Bob's ankle to stop him from falling any further and he instinctively grabbed onto Y/n before she was able to fly past him.

Both of them, hanging upside down with their chests pressed together, held onto one another like a lifeline. That horrible feeling of falling now leaving their bodies and they were allowed to catch their breath in slight relief.

"I got you, I got you," Bob panted reassuringly. He ignored the pressure of the blood rushing to his head and focused all his attention on the girl in his arms. "It's okay. I've got you," Bob sent her a small smile.

"Bob," Y/n stared at him in complete disbelief; her hair raised comically since she was upside down with him. "Y--you caught me."

"I did, didn't I?" Bob smiled. He felt a small swell of pride in his chest. "Couldn't let you fall."

"I--I don't know what to say," Y/n confessed. Though she was going to say more, but Bob had to stop her. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from her.

"Hang on," Bob excused himself. He produced a small sneeze. "Sorry."

"Bless you," Y/n smiled back to him.

"You guys okay?" Yelena called down to them.

Meanwhile, Walker managed to find a long rope to throw down to them which allowed them to climb out of the elevator shaft. He held onto the rope tightly and helped each of them out.

"Selfish prick," Ava was mostly annoyed with him as she climbed out.

"Yet you're all safe," Walker commented. Yelena pulled herself out of the elevator shaft. "I made a tactical decision to secure my own safety and ensure all of yours. Pretty ungrateful if you ask me," Walker added.

Peering down into the depths of the elevator shaft, Walker spotted the last two of them who were still climbing the rope. He let out a small scoff.

"You gonna make it, Bobby?" Walker wondered and Bob only glanced up at him. "Look at you being the hero, saving the girl and everything."

Now Bob really turned red in the face upon hearing that. He stayed put and watched as Walker helped hoist Y/n into the opening. She stood tall beside him and brushed the imaginary dirt from her own suit.

"Bet that just makes you swoon, him saving you like a damsel in distress," Walker teased her by bumping her shoulder and Y/n sent him a warning glare. "Bit scrawny, but he's cute." Walked added.

"Shut up, Walker." Y/n rolled her eyes and walked away from him.

With a hand coming up to grab the opening, Bob was practically shaking from all the effort he put into climbing up the rest of the rope. He couldn't help but glare up at Walker who enjoyed watching him squirm a little.

"Looks like you might have missed arm, leg, and chest day." Walker teased one last time.

When Walker offered his hand and Bob clasped onto it, that's when Walker's world faded to black unexpectedly.

PART 2 HERE

[huntercoreene]

it is criminal that Caleb doesn't have a 4* card in his Colonel uniform.

Measuring — Part 3

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Caleb's preparations for you before the first time you have sex (includes full on fingering and pussy eating this time)

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, teasing, slice of life, caleb being a bit of a dork, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (fem receiving)

Read on Ao3 or under the cut 👇 Part 1 | Part 2

It has been a few days since your time in Skyhaven. You returned to Linkon as Caleb returned to his missions. You kept in touch with messages and calls every chance you got and every time he teased you a little bit about your time together. It was somehow easier to talk about sex over texts than when you were facing Caleb. As a result, every conversation you had with him ended up leaving you with a raised heartbeat and flushed cheeks.

It was after one such conversation – Caleb letting out a breathy moan in your ear as he said he couldn’t wait anymore and he had to see you – you found yourself leaning against a wall with a cold drink pressed to your cheek. You tried to meet up with Caleb since then but either he was called on an emergency mission or you were. The timing never seemed right as you both got increasingly frustrated.

You decided it was best to cool off with a shower when you finally managed to peal yourself off the cold wall. You were mostly in a daze under the water stream. Your mind kept slipping into how Caleb looked on that mirror. The longing in his eyes and how pretty his face was when he felt pleasure. You had no idea how long you were in the shower when you saw your phone ding.

It was Caleb's message tone so you dried your hands and took a look at the message.

- Where are you?

You hesitated for a moment before you answered but then typed the truth.

- In the shower.

The three dots appeared as he typed something then they disappeared. He sent a reply a moment later.

- Open the door. I'm here.

Your heart skipped a beat when you read those words. You stood there for a moment not knowing what to do as water dripped down from your body. You sprang into action as you turned off the water and wrapped a towel around your body before you rushed to the door.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You had talked to Caleb this morning and he told you he had to be at the Fleet HQ all day but here he was, standing in front of you in his colonel uniform. You were both frozen the moment you opened the door as you took in the way he looked in his uniform. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his eyes taking in the state you were in.

"Caleb! How are you here?" you said with excitement and confusion.

"I couldn't wait," he said with a breathy voice as he stepped inside your apartment and pulled you into a kiss.

You felt his arm wrap around your waist and pull you tighter to himself. You responded to his hungry kisses with equal need as your hands moved up on his arms. He pushed you against the wall just as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands buried in his soft hair. You barely registered that he closed the door with his foot before he picked you up in his arms.

“Caleb,” you pulled your lips away as you held onto the front of your towel, “my towel is slipping.”

He let out a groan of protest at the loss of your lips. “Good. You don’t need it for what I have planned for us tonight.” He gave you a dangerous smirk as he made his way to your bedroom with you on his lap.

“It’s not fair! You have a whole uniform on and I have next to nothing,” you whined as Calen placed you on the bed.

He chuckled as he crawled over you. “Feel free to undress me then.”

You looked at him with surprised eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the way he gave you such permission or how close his lips were to your ear that made your body shiver with anticipation. You ran your hand on his clothed chest as you looked deep into his amethyst eyes, imagining how it could feel like to touch his bare skin and feel his heart beat.

He covered your hand with his and moved it down to his belt. Your clumsy fingers got to work on unbuckling and he threw it away the next moment. Both of your hands found the hidden buttons under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders as he loosened his tie. You got to work on unbuttoning his shirt before he even got his tie off.

“Ugh, so many layers,” you groaned with a playful look in your eyes. “Did you even stop by at your place?”

“I didn’t want to waste a second before I came here,” he said as he leaned back on his legs to take off his shirt.

You placed your hands on his bare chest. “Finally,” you murmured as you felt up his muscles under your fingers.

You moved closer and started leaving kisses to his chest. You felt his muscles tense up under your lips. You kissed the line between his pecs before moving to his right nipple. You flicked and gently sucked on his nipple, feeling it harden under your touch. Caleb let out a groan right before he threw his head back.

You looked up at him as you slid your fingers down his stomach, unbuttoning his trousers and opening his zipper. Both your hands moved to push his pants down when you felt his hands on your shoulders.

“Now it’s my turn to unwrap,” he said as he pushed you down on your back before he slipped off his trousers in one motion.

You stopped his hands when they reached to touch your towel. “I want this gone,” you said as you hooked your fingers on his underwear.

“Do it then,” he responded as if he was challenging you.

Your hand lingered on his underwear, moving to the middle to feel his hardness. A moan escaped his lips just as you pressed your palm over his clothed hard dick. You slowly pushed the waistband down, freeing his dick. The head was red and leaking precum. You licked your lips. You wanted to feel it in your mouth.

Caleb was watching you as you were taken by the sight of his dick. It throbbed and twitched with each of your reactions. He chuckled as he caught your hand which was on its way to stroke his dick.

"Told you, it's my turn now," he said as he slid his hand up your arm and pushed you on your back again.

He stepped back to remove his underwear and quickly came back to his position above you. His fingers traced your collar bone before pushing your towel down between your breasts. He pushed only enough to reveal the top of your breasts. He teasingly stroked over your nipples, touches so light it was almost not there but it was enough to harden your nipples. You could feel yourself slowly getting wet every time you felt his touch on your skin.

He found the edge of your towel and slowly opened it up while his eyes never left yours. You saw him hold his breath as you laid bare in front of him. He was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. You flushed under his intense gaze while you felt your lower body tingle. You crossed your legs and squirmed, trying to keep your desire from overwhelming you.

"Don't hide from me," Caleb said with a breathy voice.

His hands moved up from your ankles to your knees before he spread them open. He licked his lips while he looked at your pussy. It was already glistening with your arousal. His eyes and hands travelled up your body as he crawled over you. He was hungry for you but he wasn't going to rush anything. He was going to savour every second of this night.

He brushed your hair gently and placed his hand on your cheek as he left a soft kiss on your lips. You started to kiss slowly and you melted into his arms. He soon pulled you closer to his body as you wrapped your arms around him. You could feel how warm he was now that you were both naked. You loved being so close to him. You could feel your heartbeat get faster and your body was heating up. Every now and then you both stopped to breathe before going back to each other's lips.

His hard and precum leaking cock was pressed between both your bodies. You could feel its wetness on your belly and you wanted to feel more of it as you started to slowly move your hips. You wanted to grind on his cock. You wanted his fingers to touch your pussy. You moaned into his mouth as you felt a surge of arousal go through your body, making you dizzy.

"Touch me, please," you breathed out.

Caleb lifted his head, his eyes focused on your face as he slid his fingers down over your arm, your belly and inner thigh. He stroked his knuckles up and down on your thigh before you felt his touch on your pussy.

"Look how wet you are already," he teased as he stroked his fingers. He pressed on your clit as you let out a yelp before his fingers moved down to gather your slick.

"Don't tease me," you whined and squirmed under his touch, "please just put it in."

He chuckled. "I want to have a taste first."

He kissed his way down your body and placed your legs over his shoulders as he settled in between them. You could feel his hot breath on your skin and it was driving you crazy.

You felt his soft kisses first, then his hot tongue on your clit. He started to suck and lick on your pussy lips. He flicked your clit and tried out drawing various shapes, alternated between what made you clung to the sheets and what let you breathe. You were getting close to your climax.

"Caleb..." you moaned. You wanted to warn him but that was all you could say.

He stopped and grinned at you, his face glistening with your arousal.

"No," you whined, "I was so close."

"Not yet," he said as you felt his fingers on your pussy lips. He stroked up and down, touched your clit and caressed your skin before he placed his middle finger at your entrance.

"Let's open you up a little first." He pushed his finger inside you. You could feel your walls squeeze around his finger. "You're so tight. Does it hurt?"

"No, I feel good."

"Let's see if I can make you feel even better."

He started to lick and suck your clit while his hand slowly started to move inside you. Every so often he curled his finger until he found the place that made your walls tighten even more.

"Shall I try pushing in two fingers now?" He asked as he pumped his finger in and out of your slick pussy.

"Yes..."

He slowly pulled out his finger as you let out a sigh. He aligned his middle and ring fingers with your entrance this time and carefully pushed in. You held your breath as you felt two of his fingers spread your insides. Caleb pushed his fingers as far as he could and stopped, allowing you to get used to the stretch.

His thumb circled your clit gently as your walls tightened around his fingers every time he pressed down. He went down to lick your clit again as he slowly started to move his fingers in and out. You felt your insides stretch but you were so wet, his fingers were sliding very easily.

You could feel the pleasure building up within you. Your arms and legs were tingling with how good each stroke of his fingers felt coupled with his tongue lapping at your clit. He picked up the pace as he went, moving his fingers faster and faster. You were starting to lose control of yourself.

"Caleb..." you mewled and looked down. You felt weird like you were about to pee.

Caleb looked up at you with his mouth still latched on to your pussy. The view of him between your legs alone was enough to send shivers down your body. He was eating you out like it was his only meal as his fingers pushed in and out. He pressed that spot inside you every so often, making you unable to stay still. Your hands reached to his head as you tried to push him away. You could feel something was coming. He held you tightly in place as he increased the pressure of his movements.

"Caleb... I think, I'm gonna... ahhh-"

You pulled on his hair as you felt your body tense up. Caleb didn't stop and continued to press on your clit with his fingers and his mouth as you lost control completely. You tensed up and felt juices squirt all over his face as you closed your eyes shut with ecstasy.

You wanted to say sorry for making a mess but you were too out of it to mumble anything coherent. Once the extreme high of your orgasm subsided, you felt a feeling of numbness wash over your limbs and you fell to the bed with no energy in your arms and legs.

"I'm assuming, this means I did a good job," Caleb said as he placed his head on your belly and looked up at you behind your heaving chest.

"That was amazing,” you said as you tried to catch your breath. “I don't think I've had an orgasm like that ever before in my life." You placed your hand on his head and brushed his damp hair.

"I'm glad.” He gave you a proud and beaming smile then he left a kiss to your stomach before he pushed himself off the bed.

You turned to your side and watched him leave the room. The view of his bare backside was not something you got to enjoy every day and you were not gonna waste a second of it. You smiled and turned to lay on your back and listened to the sounds coming from your kitchen. Caleb returned soon after with a bottle and glasses, his hard cock still painfully hard between his legs.

"Drink up," Caleb said as he gave you a glass, "wouldn't want you getting dehydrated before the main event, would we?”

I swear they will do it in the next part!

I appreciate all kinds of comments and reblogs - let me know if you like it!

Part 4 is here

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

Hello, may I request a #15 with Sergei Kravinoff from the prompts?

Thank you.

You got it hon. I hope this hits the spot for you. ★

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Sergei Kravinoff x Submissive!F!Reader

◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.

◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (maybe slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. The reader is referred to as a property of sorts. Submissive reader. Reader being defiant. Being dominated by Sergei. Manhandling of the reader. Sexual Choking (don't try unless you know what you are doing). Ripping clothes off reader. P-in-V. Dirty Talk. Orgasm denial. Internal ejaculation.

◢ Word Count: 1.6K

◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.

2K Follower Prompt List

"I'm not your property." You spit at him, an anger in your voice that continued the argument that was already going on. Sergei turns to look at you. There was confusion on his face. His brow furrows heavily. The tension in his shoulders spreads through his body. He lets out a heavy breath, and you can see the way his muscles move heavily with movements. The Russian was taken aback by your words.

"Since when?" He growls at you. "Since I say so. I'm in charge of me. Not you."

Sergei blinks, his head tilting slightly. He was trying to process your words, and they weren't sinking in. Since the start of your relationship with him, it had been clear where your place was with him. He was in charge. He says jump and you are supposed to say 'yes sir, how high'. But today, he might have struck a nerve with you that sent you into this state. Maybe you just needed a good reminder of how this relationship with him worked. Reaching up, Sergei runs his fingers over his lips, thinking.

"You have one chance to correct yourself." He says.

Those were words you had never heard out of his mouth. But your arms crossed in defiance. You stand your ground, putting your foot down on the matter. He could read the brat in your body language. It would be a lie to say that a part of him wasn't turned on by it. You were normally such a good girl, and here you were with your big girl panties on thinking that you could call the shots simply because you were frustrated with him. Angry even. Eventually, he might realize that he was an asshole, but right now the only thing he could focus on was putting you back into your place. To hear you moaning and pining for him like the simple creature you are.

It's a matter of seconds and his left hand is around your throat. He catches you off guard and you reach up, grabbing at his arm. Your eyes go wide, but you don't feel unsafe. You have never felt unsafe with the man, and truthfully he'd never hurt you. Not in a way you didn't enjoy, anyway. You can feel his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. He's limiting the blood flow, causing you to feel a weirdly euphoric feeling. You tense and relax at the same time. His eyes meet yours with an intense stare and before you have the chance to respond, Sergei is gripping your shirt with his free hand. You hear the sound of ripping fabric from your body. He shreds it with ease, removing it from your body, and exposing your upper half.

A slight smirk comes to his face. You can see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly at the sight of you like this. He likes it, feeling the authority over you coursing through his veins like a slight adrenaline high. He backs you up against the wall, his hand pinning you by your neck to it. His free hand goes to your panties, ripping the sides of them and removing them from you. You feel as thin fabric slides down the inside of your legs and to the floor at your feet. For that brief moment, you both stare at each other.

It wasn't the first time you had been manhandled by the brute, but it was the first time in this situation. You feel your mind slipping into a state of submission, realizing that he was about to correct the poor choice of words that came from you. The hand against your throat loosens slightly before it tightens again. His free hand moves to his black pants, freeing himself from it. Sergei's hard, already at attention, and aching to remind you exactly where you belong. You can feel your mouth water in anticipation and you're already becoming slick between your legs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The emotions went from angry and frustrated to, utter desire to feel that correction. All it took was the simple actions of a hand around your throat and that piercing gaze to lock with yours.

His movements are quick as you feel the hand go from your throat to your hips. He lifts you up with ease, positioning you quickly so that he can thrust himself up into you. You feel a wave of heat wash over your body as your skin becomes sensitive. He fills you quickly, bringing your hips to his as his entire length presses into you. He slams you against the wall slightly, growling as he feels the way your body flexes around him. You let out a moan that causes Sergei to growl against the crook of your neck. This wasn't about you, but he still wanted to hear those moans. They fueled him to start pumping into with an aggressive nature.

Your hands go to brace themselves, but you feel like you don't know where to put them. They grip his arms, his shoulders. You try and hold on as he starts to pump away. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room. You can't contain the noises coming from your lips as you start to moan louder, and louder with each almost slightly painful thrust between your legs. He was using your hole for his own pleasure, making sure you were aware that it was his. Your body is his. Your mind is his. He was going to do with it as he pleased. You weren't going to stand there and tell him that you weren't his. You brought out that deeply primal dom in his body, he was making sure you felt it and knew it.

The louder you became, the harder he started to thrust. You could feel the base of him meeting at your swollen cunt, that tease of sensation that caused your body to tremble in his strong grip. He noticed it, growling at you slightly. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and lower ass with every intention of leaving little painful bruises for you to remember later.

"Don't you dare cum." He growled into your ear. "You haven't earned that." He added.

"But..." You went to plead with him as your tone whimpers for him. Were you even going to be able to stop yourself from doing that? He growled again, pressing you against the wall a little more. His head shakes with a no.

"Whose hole is that?" He asks deeply, groaning slightly. "Y-yours!" You cry out, feeling a hard thrust up into you. "Say it again." He snaps at you. "It's yours! My hole is yours!" You say, your fingers pressing into his skin as you continue to try and brace yourself.

He growls again, moaning at the end of it, almost as if he was approving of what was said without having to say it. He adjusts himself slightly, moving your weight so that he can stop thrusting. He moves your body for you, bouncing you along his length with such ease, his hand bracing you with your thighs a little more. He was using you, every bit of you for his own satisfaction. You could feel the tension in his shoulders and arms. You can tell there were bruises already starting to form from his fingers.

You do your best to hold off a finish, feeling as sweet spots were hit. Your body can't help but tremble, which adds fuel to his fire. He bounces you faster, harder, using how he moved your body to milk himself into you. Being with him long enough made it easy to read his body language, and he was starting to reach that finish with a goal in mind. You wanted so badly to finish with him, to finish at all, but the idea of him telling you that you weren't allowed sent a need through your mind. Let him use you, let him get that point across and maybe, just maybe you can earn a finish later.

Sergei's growling and moaning become more intense, becoming more frequent as he feels that building pressure. He wasn't holding back. That wasn't the point of any of this. He was going to be clear about where you stood in this relationship with him. He felt that heavy twitch in his cock, and his fingers press even harder into your skin as he braces you against the wall once more and buries himself deeply in between your legs. Your fingers press into his skin, nails digging into him as you fight off the urge to finish with him. You can feel his seed start to fill you, the warmth of it seeping out between the flesh that met his. He pressed as deeply as he could, twitching heavily as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

A hand moves back to your neck as he pulls from you. There is a mess between your legs, you can feel it. He lowers you back to your feet, the hand moving to grip your jaw and he forces you to look deeply into his eyes. At first, there is silence. You both stare at each other as he observes the way you are going to react to him, to all of this. There is no negative reaction, maybe a slight look of shock, but you can feel this deeper connection with him. That frustrated brat mode had faded away, and you're putty in his hands.

"You're mine." He says, making sure that the words are loud and clear. "You're mine in every sense of the term. Don't think I am done correcting you. I'm not."

Extra Tags: @voxmortuus

[whoskimii]

BITE IT, LICK IT !

★ biting him ft. nanami ! ★

˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ fluff, you bite him (affectionately), brief mention of sex, he kinda has a biting kink.

˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 632 (so short, mb :3)

with the tip of his finger, nanami pushed his glasses up his nose. as he continued staring intently at the screen of his computer, a quiet groan of frustration left his lips.

he quickly typed away something on the keyboard singlehandedly — his other hand was too busy gently gliding up and down your back. he was trying to soothe you.

you were pretty grouchy about him working for such an important amount of time. not even for you — although, yes, you wanted your husband to pay attention to you — it was mostly for his health and well-being.

once the blond man was locked in his work, nothing could distract him.

nothing.

not even you.

most of the time, you had to physically pull him out of the chair he was currently sitting on. you couldn't even recount how many times you ended up massaging his sore muscles. “ken...” you whined out, still straddling him.

just a few minutes ago, he had carefully placed your chin over his shoulder because you were blocking his view of the computer. “i know, darling,” he shushed tenderly. “almost done, i promise.”

with a huff, you allowed your pretty eyes to flutter shut. “you said that an hour ago. 'm done believing you.” although he wanted to reassure you, the words you had just spoken caused a quiet chuckle to slip from his throat. “i know. i'm sorry, my love.”

you loved your husband. more than anything. but he was definitely playing with your nerves. “i'm pissed right now.” you murmured to yourself. even though he heard you, he typed something new.

you felt his hand running through your hair, almost as if he desired to keep you calm. “in a few minutes.” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

you made sure to keep your chin hooked over his shoulder, being mindful not to distract him from his work as you pouted — even though all you wished to do was to distract him.

in one way or another.

out of a sudden, a mischievous idea formed in your head, and your soft lips curled up in a gentle smirk. kento sighed as he felt you leaving little kisses on his throat, up to his neck. instinctively, he tilted his head to the side, baring his own neck to your affection.

once you had finally reached the sensitive skin of his neck, your teeth tenderly sank in his epidermis.

you felt his confusion as he paused. “baby ? what was that ?” you pulled away, admiring the way your teeth had left a mark. “jus' biting you.” kento produced a gentle scoff. “mhm, i felt that. what for ?”

your eyes met his, and you offered him an innocent smile. “what ? can't bite my hubby if i want to ?” a quiet huff left him, and he pushed his glasses up again — although they weren't falling from his nose, this time.

the sorcerer had a habit of doing that whenever you flustered him. after four years of successful marriage, you noticed this little thing about your husband. you found it cute and often teased him for it. “aw, you flustered ?” he frowned, a sight you were familiar with. “me ? flustered ? no. absolutely not.”

a hum escaped your throat. “you sure ? you did... y'know, that lil' thing you always do with your glasses when you're flustered.” he shrugged. “mhm ? no, they were just falling.” you graced him with a fond giggle. “ken, 'm not dumb !”

a tired smile appeared on your husband's face. “alright, alright... i did like it. you should bite me more often, honey. especially in bed.”

this time, you were the flustered one. you tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “ken !”

however, you weren't going to pass on that offer.

based off this ask.