#so angular.. so sharp… clean … love

[cliffsnotes]

look at bekowsky. twink (derogatory(affectionate)).

The rest

[northopalshore]

Rising signs in the Groom Persona Chart: Their features

───────────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─────────────────

The rising sign in your GPC tells you about your future spouse's appearance, physical attributes and how they present themselves. Picture it like reading their birth chart lol.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ��🔉

In the signs & degrees:

♰ Aries (1°, 13°, 25°):

Your future spouse could have very angular features, perhaps their eyes could be sharp or very striking. They could have an eager look to them, or they could look like a kid in a way. You could think that they're impatient or they may like to rush things a lot. They could have a great physique or look very hot. They could wear a lot of gym clothes, tight fitting outfits or just athletic wear in general. Either a dork (Maximilian Goof aka Goofy's son lol) or a gym rat.

♰ Taurus (2°, 14°, 26°):

They will dress very comfortably, while still looking extravagant. They could look sophisticated and very, very attractive i.e perfect smile, perfect teeth. They could be taller or heavier than you. They will be very calm, down to earth and put together. They could have a well built physique, and tough body.

♰ Gemini (3°, 15°, 27°):

They could have a slender face, pale skin and a narrow stature. They will look very expressive when they start talking, but have a rather dull resting face lol. They could look rather breezy if that makes sense. Not one to wear anything too fitted. They could have great facial symmetry. Something about their teeth will be very prominent i.e straight or very white.

♰ Cancer (4°, 16°, 28°):

They could have very soft, rounded features. Doe eyes. They could have a slight glow to their face and their eyes. Curvy body, soft lips. They could wear a lot of baggy or vintage looking clothes. They could gain weight quite easily. They will look kind and mellow. They could have a very inviting smile.

♰ Leo (5°, 17°, 29°):

Gorgeous hair, and that face card doesn't decline. They will love dressing in old Hollywood vintage clothing, old money or loud and expensive. They could have very wavy or curly hair that will catch anyone's attention. They also have a slight cocky look to them. They are attractive, and god do they know it.

♰ Virgo (6°, 18°):

They are usually very petite/short and frail looking. They could look compacted but not aggressively so. They will look very clean and polished. There will not be a single speck of dust on them nor will you spot an unironed spot on their clothing. They will love wearing comfortable yet elegant looking clothes. You'll notice they tend to lean on a specific silhouette or colour that they like.

♰ Libra (7°, 19°):

" They have the face of an angel and the body of a greek god" Beautiful. Elegant and gentle. Looking at them will leave you at a daze. They look good and know exactly how to dress for their body. All of their facial features blend in harmoniously, could have a symmetrical face too. Oval faces, bright eyes, pretty smile.

♰ Scorpio (8°, 20):

Usually, they will have very striking eyes. They could have eye bags or just darkened eyes in general. Like virgo, they could love to stare at you lol. Every feature they have will accentuate their eyes. They are very attractive ( s*xually) , everything about them will be sensual and seductive.

♰ Sagittarius (9°, 21°):

There could be a significant size difference between you. They could have very long legs, curly or fluffy hair, and animated facial features. They will look very charming, but goofy in a way. One look at them and you know they're somebody fun to be around. They could laugh a lot and look stoic (contemplating) at times.

♰ Capricorn (10°, 22°):

They could look very cold or uninviting. He could have a very relaxed yet also somewhat stern look on their face even with neutral emotions. They could look very mature, their eyebrows could often be furrowed lol. They could have very prominent bone structures i.e nose, hollow or defined cheek bones. They could look very "boney" in general lol. Very masculine.

♰ Aquarius (11°, 23°):

They could be very tall or slender. Their heads and arms could be quite prominent something about them will catch a lot of stray eyes. They likely have features that are rebellious in nature. They could have odd hairstyles/ colours (especially) or tattoos or piercings. They could dress very.. exotically? Strange? Their fashion style could be quite questionable to say the least but never are they boring to look at.

♰ Pisces (12°, 24°):

They will have very sad, sultry looking eyes that look almost sympathetic 24/7. They will seem like they're not really "there" with you i.e lost in thought or deep contemplation. They will have very rounded features. Their cheeks could look very puffy or rounded when they smile. You could think that they're too good to be true. Their skin could have a greyish undertone, almost like the moon is beneath their skin.

Note: If there are conflicting signs of their appearance for example you have Virgo rising (small, petite) in 2° Taurus (bigger, heavier) then it means your fs is considered large for a virgo i.e.gains weight easily, and are very well built or muscular while still not being overly built (lean).

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

───────────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────────────────

*** entertainment only, reader discretion is advised***

Thank you for reading ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore groom persona chart 2024 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[motthe]

hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

[kenzieluvsnanami]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ✧✩₊˚. "secretive" :: a kenzieluvssylus production (18+) ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ✧✩₊˚.

desc ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ pursuing a romance with one of the most wanted individuals in linkon city was never going to be easy... but you also never thought it was going to be this hard // sylus x f!reader angst cw ✧✩₊˚. NSFW/põrn w plot except i really got into the plot aspect 😭, cunnílingus, established relationship, perceived cheating, mephisto being a little shit (affectionately), heavy use of profanity (sorry mom), angst that's not too bad in all honesty, arguing, pretty canon compliant (reader is a hunter and goes on a mission etc.), xavier mention becuz why not, and as always - lowercase intended // wc :: 2.8k

sylus was an enigma.

even that doesn’t begin to describe how little you truly did know about the leader of the even more mysterious organisation - onychinus.

as first, the mystery was fun.

it was even sexy at times.

a month ago, you had intended to grill sylus about his involvement in illegal protocore smuggling within the N109 zone. a conversation that promptly ended with his head stuffed deep into your cunt, angular nose pressing down on your sensitive bud as his tongue languidly pressed into your walls.

you bit down hard on your lip as you tried to swallow your whimpers, the vibrations from sylus groaning into your pussy feeling overwhelmingly good.

he was all consuming - the smell of his musky, warm cologne mixed with weight of his firm build pressing down onto your thighs to stop you from moving away. all you could do was card your fingers through his silver strands and yank at the hair in a desperate bid to regain control.

that earned you a low chuckle from the man who had seemingly taken residence between your legs, scarlet irises turning to a deeper, blackened shade as he took in your disheveled appearance; hunter uniform still half on, your flushed cheeks and blown-out eyes that tried and failed to give a sharp glare.

“you know sweetie, there’s a saying about curiosity and fierce kittens like you..” a slow smirk grew on his face as his fingers repositioned, allowing him to apply a delicious amount of pressure to your clit whilst he started to scissor his fingers inside your slick entrance.

the sudden change in stimulation caught you off guard, your body betraying your pleasure as you let out a sharp gasp that blended into a drawn out moan, your back arching up from the sofa you had originally sat down on to write up a report about said illegal protocore activity.

“could you be a dear and help me remember what exactly it is they say?” his fingers dragged out from the tight ring of muscle with a squelch. **

“…something about it kissing the kitty?” his mouth trailed down the insides of your thighs leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all over.

his fingers then moved back to rest just inside your inner walls, “nono… it actually killed the kitten i think..”

sylus loved to play games, or play dumb to be exact. especially when the two of you were being intimate.

his carefree charm seemed to contrast with his heavier, more serious appearance and it was something that made him feel that more real - less like the big scary crime boss you had imagined and more like a malevolent devil… with the face and body of a greek god.

sylus was fun. but sometimes a relationship needs a lot more than just “fun” to survive.

this was proven to you over the past two weeks, an increasing knot of anxiety and insecurity worming its way into your psyche as you began to truly realise how little you knew about the man who’s bed you so often found yourself falling into.

you knew for certain that not everything sylus was involved in was legitimate… or clean. you literally saw him choke a man to death with his evol the first time you met him. and yet you still continued to see him, to spend time with him, to flirt and even sleep with him (numerous times) despite how little you knew.

you even saw him with another woman.

you were out on an undercover mission with xaiver, attempting to gather further intel about the potential protocore smuggling (sylus had successfully managed to evade any and all questions you had).

the task was simple, infiltrate one of the dinners held by a suspected importer of synthetic protocore fragments.

you and xaiver chose to do your stakeout from a distance, binoculars and infrared cameras scanning for any possible fragments or shards. the night had seemed to be going well, your hand aching from the hours spent furiously scribbling down notes about potential warehouses and production plants the LCIB could raid to find further leads for the case. the night had seemed to be winding down, so you told xaiver he could take a quick nap in the back of the surveillance van because he could not stop yawning.

that was when you had made the fatal error of panning your binoculars up to one of the many bedrooms in the manor, hands about to move the binoculars away until something - more so, someone caught your attention.

there was a woman who seemed to be a similar age to you, with long beautiful hair that came down to her waist and the most breath-taking hazel coloured eyes you had ever seen.

she was completely and utterly gorgeous.

but it wasn’t her beauty that was gave you pause. it was the pale, slender hands that seemed comfortable resting around her waist. the silver strands on a head that had just dipped down slightly to converse with her, his mouth inches away from her ear.

of course.

of course sylus was here, involved in some shady fucking shit and of course he’s with the most alluring woman you had ever seen.

the two of them were laughing, and you knew that from the way sylus’ nose slightly crinkled upwards, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows as his eyes narrowed.

and you were foolish enough to think you were the only one who got to see him like that…

your hands trembled as you tried to hold up the binoculars. did you even want to see more? it felt like every single second you spent watching the two together caused your heart to break into smaller and smaller pieces. you could feel tears clouding your vision, threatening to break free as you saw the woman lean in and press her lips against the corner of his.

you threw the binoculars down, slamming your hands against the dashboard causing the whole van to shake. the noise must have filtered out of the van as it seemed to have disturbed the wildlife around you, a distinct crow’s caw sounding out into the air.

“…what was that?” a small voice called out from the back.

…

the rest of the mission felt like a blur. you were one of the highest-ranked hunters in all of linkon city and yet all it took was a kiss to throw you off kilter.

you only had yourself to blame.

sylus had never out-right said you were the only person he was seeing. plus you had to have known this couldn’t go anywhere, he was the head of a criminal organisation, one of the most wanted individuals by the LCIB and you were a highly ranked official within the LCIB.

it was never going to work out.

which is why when he invited you over to the N109 zone a few days later, you thought it was the perfect time to call it off with him.

you’ve had your fun and you were certain he’s had his fair share too but you had decided that it was best for the both of you to cut things off here before you get too… attached.

the ride over on your motorcycle seemed faster than all the other times you had driven there. probably because of how preoccupied your mind was, head swirling with thoughts, feelings and uncertainties. whilst your mind was telling you the right thing to do was to break up with sylus and be done with it, your heart wanted to forgive him and make up with him.

but, you didn’t get this far in life by listening to your heart.

which is why when luke and kieran swung the heavy dark-stained doors open, you sped straight past them straight to his bedroom. not giving yourself a chance to back out or lose confidence.

the walk to his room had never felt this long. the deep-foreboding feeling you had made it feel as though it was never ending. every fibre of your being wanted to just run back out those doors and never look back - but you had a feeling that he would never make leaving him that easy.

you raised your hand to knock on the bedroom door, only for swirls of black and red mist to materialise in front of the doorhandles, pulling them open for you.

you walked in to the room expecting to see sylus lounging on the expanse of his thousand-thread-count ink stained sheets, a sly finger beckoning you to join him as he so often did.

but he was nowhere to be seen.

it was only as you ventured further into the room that you finally saw him. he was sat at the desk positioned in the far end of his room, his back towards you.

you could see that his left hand was swirling a half-drunk glass of what you assumed to be merlot, the other thumbing through what must have been hundreds of pages worth of documents assorted with small handwritten notes made in red ink. he was dressed in his usual velvet red robe, the belt for which slowly beginning to become undone giving view to his slender, solid build - your eyes trailing down to the familiar dusting of his silver-toned happy trail leading to a pair of snug-fitting black boxers.

the mechanical crow you had come to hold some semblance of affection for began to chirp loudly at your presence, breaking you out of your reverie.

as we’ve gone over before, sylus loves to play games. you could feel the smirk he had on his face without even having to walk up to him.

you knew that he knew that you had something you were nervous about saying and he reviled in it. he seemed to love watching you squirm and it seemed that now was not any different to all those times before.

you cleared your throat and tried to get straight to the point.

“look, whatever this thing is that we have going on… it can’t continue anymore.”

a pause.

sylus spun the office chair around so he could face you, legs crossing over as he rested his chin upon his hand, crimson eyes burning into your own. his face bared no signs of shock or dismay at your words, he actually seemed slightly bored of the conversation you were starting to have.

“is this because of what you…thought you saw at the manor the other day?” his voice was low and even, a slight level of mirth in its undertones as he took in the bewildered look on your face.

how the fuck did he know you were also at the manor that night?

you and xaiver did enough reconnaissance of that house to where your presence should have not even disturbed the dust on the third bedroom’s window sill.

but of course.

of course, this cryptic, secretive bastard knew you were there. the crow’s gleeful greeting to you now felt more like a jest at your obliviousness.

how could you have not have known he was watching.

“if you knew i was there, then why the fuck would you kiss some other woman whilst i was watching??” you had planned to seem apathetic at the whole situation during your confrontation however, your voice betrayed you; sharp emotion creeping in, your voice raised in volume, eyes stinging with tears eager to be shed.

“i think your mistaken…sweetie.” the use of the pet name feeling less affectionate and more like a slap in the face.

you felt like a scolded child being told off by their teacher; the unexpressive, inscrutable posturing sylus was doing only furthering the anger you held.

“i SAW you do it!”

you rarely got this angry with sylus, his easy-going manner calming you down in most instances but the disingenuity of his demeanor was going to make you break something or someone in a minute.

sylus sighed deeply, uncrossing his legs and spreading them outwards to leave enough space for you to stand between them. he then wordlessly waved you over.

and as much as every fibre of your being was deeply pissed at sylus… there was a part of you that still longed to be held by him, to be cared for by him, to be loved by him.

and it was that part of you that silently stepped towards him, standing directly in the middle of his legs. his hands stretched out to take both of yours, large palms reverently smoothing over the top side of your arms. he raised his head to look up at you, the intensity of his gaze causing you to look away.

“look at me.” his voice wasn’t more than a low rumble at this point, the gravel in his tone making the request feel more like a demand.

you reluctantly turned back, face burning due to how vulnerable you felt under his watch. the emotion and earnestness you felt in this moment was so different to all those previous times you had spent together. you could feel the… love he had for you.

“i think we both know what we happened that night.” his eyes never left yours as he spoke, the silence of the room amplifying the volume of his voice. he reached down to grab both of your hands in his.

“the woman you saw me with was… an associate of mine. we have a history.” you saw a flash of pain in his eyes as he paused for a moment, grip tightening around your hands. “but that is all we have. history.”

and here he was doing it again. smoothing out all your concerns and worries without ever explaining or revealing a single aspect of his life to you.

“sylus..” he hummed fondly at your use of his name, “even if all the two of you share is ‘history’ i still feel hurt. you never tell me anything, and i’m not talking about all that protocore shit because i could really give less of a fuck right now - i’m talking about personal shit.”

you could see the light in eyes dimming slightly, his hands starting to stiffen in yours.

“i don’t understand why you feel like you can’t tell me anything? you send that stupid crow to follow me all day and night… all i ask is to know about what you were like as a kid and it’s like i’ve asked for your bank cards.”

you could feel the mechanical gaze of said crow on your back as you spoke but you were more interested in how its owner felt.

after a long pause, he finally spoke.

“i’d rather you ask for my bank cards.”

you weren’t going to allow him to deflect with his dry humour or sex or anything else anymore, this was a dealbreaker. you remained silent as you willed him to continue on with a light squeeze to his palms.

“however, i understand where your coming from.” his eyes shifted from your face down to the black tiles within his bedroom. “the relationship we have has progressed to something much greater than i ever thought it would be… i don’t think i have felt this way before to be honest with you.”

you thought your heart was going to beat itself from out of your chest, the intensity of sylus’ words surprising you.

you were never sure of where you really stood with him in this relationship at times. yes, he complimented you, called you and was intimate with you a number of times - but you weren’t sure if he felt as deeply about you as you did with him. so to hear what seemed to be almost a proclamation of love, was not what you expected.

“i’ve never had to really speak about myself or my past to anyone which is why i’m so hesitant to start now.” sucking in a breath, his eyes flittered back to your face.

“but for you? there’s nothing i wouldn’t do.”

you tugged at his hands, pulling him up from the chair and into your embrace. a finger traced along the edge of your jaw, guiding your head up as his lips ghosted over your own in a kiss.

the gentleness of the action causing you melt in his arms, hands finding purchase in the silk robe he wore. the two of you had kissed before, but the warmth and affection embedded within every movement this time; the way his tongue laved over your lips, coaxing your mouth to open as his hands reached up to cradle your face made you feel… significant.

something had changed within your relationship, the connection the two of you had strengthening.

as a couple, you still had a lot to talk about.

but, somehow you knew it was all going to work out.

a/n : so are we gonna talk abt those 💦🪣's or nah. cause zayne's outfit 🫠

[eli0004]

Levi Ackerman NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: sub!Levi x Reader

Warnings: msub, dominance, degradation, praise, some heavy kink activity and whatnot, mentions of insecurity

(AN: I’m sorry this took me forever, but I was thrilled about this request because I LOVVVVE smut alphabets. Please feel free to request more, or ask for further elaboration on anything in this one! 💜)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When Levi is coming down from the high of his orgasm, he can’t hide the fact that he’s feeling good. He’ll lie there with you, head on your chest as his shoulders rise and fall while he catches his breath. You can stroke his hair and run your thumb over his cheek, and he’ll turn to gaze up at you with soft, sleepy eyes. It’s really a treat to see this side of him, so relaxed and pliant. And if you’re lucky, you could watch his eyes flutter closed, and hear his soft snores as he drifts off to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He isn’t confident about much, but i can see Levi being confident in his jawline. I envision him turning his head to the side and taking his straight razor down his neck, scraping off the shaving cream and admiring, even if it’s only for a moment, the sharpness and angularity of it.

On you? Is it a cop out to say everything? How could you even ask him to pick something when he loves all of you so much? But, in all seriousness, I think Levi would find “unique” features very attractive. If you have a larger nose, vitiligo, lots of freckles, stretch marks, surgery scars…etc etc. If you’re insecure about it, Levi loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he’d prefer to cum either inside or catch it somewhere for easy clean up, but his orgasms, more often than not, tend to be quick and intense. He’s cumming before he can really even think about where to do it. If you’re giving him head, he’ll feel himself getting closer and closer and he’ll writhe and paw at your hair, but the scorching pleasure tends to make his brain short circuit, and he can’t find the words to warn you. Recognizing body language is very important when in bed with Levi.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like, from time to time, Levi imagines what it would be like to fully dedicate himself to submitting to you. Allowing you to make the smallest decisions for him, how to spend his money, when to eat or drink, when - and where - to use the restroom. I believe he fantasizes a bit about life as a lifestyle sub, living entirely for you and what makes you feel happy. It’s what makes him happy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

My personal favorite is inexperienced/virgin Levi, but if we’re being realistic i’d say he’s at least got a hand job or two under his belt. I think given his past, and how he grew up, he doesn’t place as much emphasis on sex and sexual experience as your average man. If you ask him, it’s just a normal thing that people do, it’s human nature to chase after pleasure.

Then again I also think, perhaps given the more traumatic aspect to his past, there’s a high possibility that he has some underlying negative feelings about it, whether he realizes it or not. When in a relationship, i think it likely takes many months before he feels comfortable enough to indulge in the act. But once he does, he can be a bit insatiable at times.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Riding!! Levi likes to be beneath you, but this certainly doesn’t mean you’ll be doing all the work. He’ll do his best to make you feel just as good as you make him feel, roaming his hands over your thighs, chest, thumbing over your clit/tip. He likes when you cup his jaw and tilt his head to force eye contact. You can watch him struggle to keep his eyes open while he’s dizzy from the pleasure.

If he’s feeling extra mushy gushy, he might like missionary, pressing his body tightly against yours and all but laying on top of you. He’ll bury his face into your neck and grunt and groan softly against your skin as he thrusts slow and deep. Run your fingers through his hair and gently tug, scratch down his back, he fucking lives for that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Levi, sex and intimacy is an act of worship. To praise your body and your heart and to show his gratitude and gratefulness for the way you love him. He’s far too enamored, too consumed by emotion to even think about being unserious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps neatly trimmed, but he’ll only shave if he fucks up the trim somehow. That said, it’s Levi we’re talking about, meticulous is his middle name. When would he ever fuck up anything? So, neatly trimmed it is, dark, course and it thins out into a sexy little line that comes up just below his belly button. Happy trail supremacy 😩

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As previously stated, sex with Levi doesn’t exist without intimacy. This man is nothing if not passionate, and he puts everything he has into it, just to show you what you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Levi rarely gets off on his own, i think it makes him uncomfortable to be so hormone driven. When he goes a while without seeing you, he’ll ignore those random erections and push away the horny thoughts until it becomes unbearable, and only then will he take care of himself.

However, i think Levi is a big fan of mutual masturbation. He likes having your eyes on him while he strokes himself, the way you gaze at him like you’ve never seen a sight so mouth-watering, so mesmerizing. It boosts his confidence ten-fold. When he’s getting closer, his hand will speed up and his jaw will go slack, you can watch him hunch over himself as he cums, balls tightening and contracting as he spurts over his knuckles.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Levi likes to challenge you when he’s feeling a bit more freaky. When there’s a lot of sexual tension between the both of you, he likes to be put in his place. In those moments, he can be a bit of a brat.

He likes to be teased, though he often pretends not to. If you want to build up that tension, you can send him sexy looks, touch him when no one is looking, get him all flustered just to walk away and make him wait. He’ll call you a tease, tell you you’re being mean, but it’s clear that he loves it by the way he seeks you out for more.

Manhandling? He’s a sucker for someone who can push him around, force eye contact with a firm grip on his jaw, back him up against the nearest surface for some steamy kisses.

Praise and degradation. When he’s being good, dote on that man. Tell him he’s your good boy, dish out all the rewards. When he’s being a pain in your ass, a little condescending degradation gets him all hot and bothered. Caress his cheek with a sweet smile and tell him he’d better cut the attitude before you leave him to fuck his fist like the horny little bitch he is.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It’s a common headcannon that he’d most prefer shower sex, and while i do think he’d enjoy it for obvious reasons, i think he’d also be fond of the intimate aspect of doing it in low lighting, trapped between the bedsheets, when he’s feeling a bit more soft.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you care for him. His main love language is acts of service, that’s a no-brainer at this point, but it works both ways. You cooked a meal for him? He’s gonna have you for dessert.

Levi has very little experience with feeling loved, so the quickest way to turn him on is to baby him, regardless of how he might pretend he doesn’t need it. Three words: do it anyway. And seeing you do it as if loving him is like second nature is a sure way to have him all over you.

And if you initiate, it’s even better. Show him how much you want him, when you’re kissing and grinding up on each other, slip his hand between your legs to feel the effect he has on you. Knowing he turns you on, that you want him just as badly as he wants you, that sort of thing gets him hard embarrassingly quick.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

It’s hard to say, because most of the time Levi would do just about anything you ask him, especially if he trusts you. But i don’t think he’d be too much of a fan of blood/knife play or emeto/scat. Essentially, no infliction of real lasting pain, and nothing that is, in his eyes, “unhygienic”. He sees enough of that in his day to day life and derives no sexual pleasure from it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He may not be a pro, but Levi learns by watching how you react. If you twitch or throb or quiver when he licks you there, he’ll double down and drive you wild. Going down on you isn’t his favorite way to get you off, but he would spend an eternity between your legs if you asked him to.

In terms of himself, Levi doesn’t always understand why you’d want to put him in your mouth, but he’ll never complain. He keeps himself nice and groomed, clean and he’ll never force your head unless you asked him to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and his breathing gets a bit shaky when you’re kissing down his tummy. But all that nervousness dissipates the second he feels your tongue swirl around his tip, too drunk on pleasure to be so cautious.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how he’s feeling, if he’s in a more relaxed and romantic mood he may prefer gentle touching and body worship, whether you’re doing the fucking or he is. He likes those slow, deep strokes, so he can feel every inch, in and out.

If he’s feeling moody or stressed, or even simply pent up, Levi is ready to get his back blown out. He likes it face down, ass up. Or if you’re on top, have a firm grip on his throat and force eye contact as you slam down on/into him. The quickest way to hear those pretty little sounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Levi doesn’t mind them, but always expect more later. Quickies are more of a warm up, or a form of foreplay in his eyes. Especially if you use him to get yourself off and leave him hanging. It sounds mean, but sometimes he likes you a little mean. It’s always worth it when you milk him dry later anyway.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

In the beginning, new ideas are met with some level of skepticism. Over time, the more trust is established, the mo comfortable he becomes, the more he’s willing to try new things. He knows you’d never steer him wrong or force him into an uncomfortable situation, but it’s crucial that he feels safe enough to speak up when he’s not feeling it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s not as energetic as he used to be, but he can go a couple times with breaks in between. Overstimulation puts him in subspace pretty easily too, so don’t be afraid to test his limits.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrators vibrators vibrators!!! He loves them! He won’t say it, but when you pull out your little bullet, Levi feels such a wave of excitement. He always cums twice as hard when you suck him off with it pressed up against his taint, or trace it over his balls. If you want to tease him extra good, you can ghost it over his tip and watch his thighs start to tremble.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Levi doesn’t tease as much as he tests your boundaries. When he wants to be put in his place, you’ll know by the way he isn’t as quick to follow directions, or his sarcastic remarks when you’re breaking him down. There’s something he loves about watching your eyes go from gentle and sweet to domineering and animalistic. That’s how he knows he’s gotten just what he wants.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Rarely is he truly loud, but he’s definitely not quiet either. Levi is expressive in his own way, through heavy labored breathing and soft hums of pleasure, “ngh” and “mnm” sounds. He gets louder as you dish out more and more, and when he’s close, his jaw slackens and he inhales sharply, before letting out a drawn out, breathy groan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Levi is shy about titles, but the closer he gets to subspace, the less his inhibitions are present, and before you know it, he’s responding to your instructions with a “yes ma’am/sir” or “ok mommy/daddy”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He isn’t big, but he isn’t small. I’d say Levi is packing pretty average, with a good amount of girth. He has a slight upward curve, and such a pretty pale pink color. He leaks too, especially when he’s pent up. A bit of dry humping and heavy kissing is all it takes to have him leaving dark wet patches on the front of his pants.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a moderate sex drive, but even if he’s been desperate for you all day long, sometimes he finds it hard to initiate. This goes back to the whole “recognizing body language is important” thing, because more often than not, he’s going to show you he’s in the mood.

He’ll be more touchy, you’ll notice his eyes lingering on your body, he sits closer to you and makes his presence more obvious. Once he’s gotten more comfortable in the relationship, he might press himself against you during hugs, so you can feel him semi-hard in his pants, or his kisses might become longer and laced with desperation.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It really is a battle in his mind: to stay awake and snuggle up, or to give into exhaustion. He can’t help but feel extra relaxed when you’re done coaxing orgasms out of him, and his eyes get soft and dreary. Pet his hair a bit and hold him tight and he’s out like a light.

[sugar-petals]

Hi caro🌹 , back to the saga of hot/beautiful men . Are tom welling and jensen ackles soft naturals ? ( I get the feeling maybe jensen ackeles could be a classic hmmm cause I really don'tlike him in a beard he looks so much better clean shaved like cillian murphy?)( also tom welling looked HOT with the backward cap and natural styling in that award show people still talk about that fit to this day !) Have a superb day ✨️

so many gorgeous people to analyse ✌️ i don't get why david kibbe still doesn't really body type more men. guess we'll have to do it, horribly suffering as we look at extraordinarily pretty guys 😂

jensen ackles: pure natural

not a classic body type even though clean-shaven is best, because he bulks out any tuxedo suit and symmetry is boring on him; natural types thrive on the undone unconstructed look with heavy fabrics, his signature look. tousled highlighted hair is great on him. owns any jeans jacket, but doesn't benefit from sharp corners or elongation, hence not FN (jared padalecki is 100% big three coded instead, very vertical sharp yang type). SN could be possible if he had more yin/waist emphasis, not sure. he doesn't have romantic facial features so i stick with him being a sexy ass pure natural for now.

tom welling: flamboyant natural

an almost soft dramatic, but his face is more width-heavy and he looks amazing in the most casual of jeans and shirt. angular suits don't adapt to his shape, he is yang bevelled > yang sharp. too vertical to be a soft subtype. i see a dramatic modellesque undercurrent in his facial structure especially, the jaw, the nose bridge, the low brows, so not pure or soft natural, but still width first > narrowness, especially as he got older. too tall for R, G, C at 6'3. very yin lips, but many flamboyant naturals can have them (huening kai, namjoon...) and it further hints at their blunt roundness, but it's mixed with sharp corners. love this guy's look, he's a beauty. most superman actors are FN types.

[nadvs]

push and pull (part one)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)

tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post

» masterlist

Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.

Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.

From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.

It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.

────୨ৎ────

Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.

As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.

Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.

As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.

Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.

Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.

He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.

It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.

Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.

The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.

His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.

“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.

“Hi,” you say kindly.

When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.

“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.

“How was your workout?” Zach asks.

Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.

“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.

He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.

Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.

Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.

“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”

Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.

Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.

Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”

As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.

It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.

Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.

“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.

“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.

When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.

“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”

“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.

Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.

And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.

You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.

“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.

“The grades are already up?” you reply.

“On time for once,” she laughs.

“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.

You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.

You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.

Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.

“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”

You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.

Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.

You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.

“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”

Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.

As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.

He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.

Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.

About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.

“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”

“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.

“Sweet.”

“What’s she like?” Zach asks.

Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.

“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”

Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.

He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.

He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.

“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.

“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.

“Did they tell you that?” he snips.

“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”

“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.

“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”

Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.

“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.

“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”

“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.

Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.

Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.

“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.

“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”

He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.

Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?

They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.

Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.

“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”

“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”

“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.

But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.

They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.

“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.

Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.

“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”

It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.

But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.

Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.

It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.

Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.

“Night,” Zach says curtly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”

Zach looks at the food.

“I’m good.”

It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.

────୨ৎ────

“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.

“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.

You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.

Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.

“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”

“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.

“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”

Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.

It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”

You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.

“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”

“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.

“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”

“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”

“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.

You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’

“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.

“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”

“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.

“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”

You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.

“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”

“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.

“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.

Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.

Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.

Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?

You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.

He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.

You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.

────୨ৎ────

The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.

You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.

You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.

Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.

Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.

You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.

Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.

You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.

You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.

They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.

You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.

“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.

You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.

“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.

Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.

“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”

“He’s right to,” you joke.

You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.

“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.

You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.

It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.

Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“You know this song?” Rafe asks.

“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.

“It’s my playlist.”

“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”

Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.

The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.

You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?

“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.

“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”

Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.

Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.

“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”

“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”

You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say.

“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.

You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.

“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.

“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”

Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.

“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.

You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.

“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.

It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.

You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.

Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.

Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.

You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.

You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.

Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.

He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.

Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.

Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.

“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.

Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”

A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.

“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”

“Sure,” you laugh.

“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”

By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.

“Why were you outside?” you ask.

“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”

Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.

“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.

“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”

Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.

“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.

“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”

He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.

“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.

His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.

Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.

“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”

You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.

“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.

His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.

“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”

“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”

“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”

The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.

“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”

Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.

“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.

“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.

“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.

“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”

“Never,” Zach murmurs.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.

(part two)

[smuttysabina]

A Lady of the Night

(Male Reader x Jiu, 2.3k Words) Tags: Vampiric Sex, Blood/Semen Sucker, You Get Drained, Of Blood? Of Semen? Who Knows!, Romantic Sex, Some Supernatural Elements, Not Too Many Though, That's For The Next One, She Really Fits This Vibe, I Am Scared Yet Aroused, NomNomNomNom

The droplet of wine glistens in the candlelight as it slips from the corner of her shapely mouth, trailing down her chin until a delicate finger catches it. She raises it to her pert lips, before her pink tongue seductively licks it clean; her eyes not leaving yours for a moment. Jiu smiles. She leans back in her chair, appraising you with a knowing look, tilting her head to one side to judge your reaction. You feel yourself start to sweat, still unable to believe that you somehow managed to secure a date with this... goddess. The bustle of the busy bar around your booth goes completely unnoticed as your attention remains inescapably upon Jiu; as if the two of you were sealed inside your own sperate world. With infinite grace, she reaches out to lay her cold hand atop yours in reassurance, steadying you as she makes you an invitation beyond your wildest dreams. Your heart pounds like a drum as you nod numbly, how could you possibly refuse her?

"Stay with me tonight, and warm me with your love..."

The journey back to Jiu's flat passes by in a blur, the sharp chill of the outdoors giving way to the sullen warmth of her domicile. You have your first kiss in the entryway, her lips still icy from the wintry walk; but her tongue burns with heat as it tenderly slides against your own. You embrace seems to last an age, but still not long enough as she breaks off, eyes narrowed with delight. She takes you by the hand, giving you another of her curiously toothless smiles, before gently leading you towards her bedroom, allowing you to appreciate her apartment as she pulls you along. Thick curtains had been thrown open, filling the room with silver streamers of moonlight; she had not bothered to turn on the lights. The interior is filled with dark-hued furniture, their angular shapes nearly indiscernible in the faint lighting. With a soft laugh, Jiu unerringly guides you into her chambers, leaving you at the entrance and gracefully seating herself on the edge of a wide four-poster bed. You drink in the sight of her, bathed in the radiance of Luna, her milky legs in start relief on the backdrop of her black dress. Her face is like serenity rendered in marble, the deep red of her lips only serving to accentuate her paleness; red had never looked so beautiful on a woman. Jiu languidly beckons you forward, and as if under a spell your body automatically complies, seating itself next to her.

Your next kiss is far more passionate, as Jiu nibbles ever so softly upon your lips, her faint needling only heightening your arousal. Your hands caress her body, boorishly stroking her legs and pawing at her obscured breasts; and she responds in kind, reaching under your shirt to lightly scratch at your chest. You pause only long enough for her to help you out of your top, before she returns her attentions to your body. Now Jiu's cool lips make their way down your jawline, circling along to your chest, leaving you moaning; before returning to your neck. Here she takes her time, sucking and nipping at your flesh driving you wild with desire as she strokes your bare skin. Your heart pounds rhythmically as she pauses, her tongue lapping slowly at you before her teeth dig in to give you a hickey. You gasp as you feel two sharp needles of pain dig into your neck, Jiu holding you steady as she suckles upon you like a babe. She growls in content as she pulls away, leaving your mind awash with a burning lust; but enough wits remain for you to notice something has changed about the gorgeous idol. Her homely brown eyes now possess a crimson glow, and twin fangs glisten as they curve down over her plump lips. Now Jiu smiles broadly, no longer attempting to conceal her identity, you should be afraid and yet-

"My, I hardly need to beguile you... this, arouses you greatly does it not?" Jiu demurely bares her fangs, causing you to shiver with perverse excitement. She helps you further onto the bed, tenderly pushing you flat as she removes your pants, "Do not be worried, I will be gentle with you- ah. My, that is... spectacular," Jiu shyly covers her giggle as your manhood is revealed, it is so rigid it is unable to lay flat, straining slightly above your stomach. She lays herself between your legs, her rear temptingly raised up, as she delicately orients your member skyward. She plants tepid kisses up and down your shaft, her eyes shining with amusement as you groan at her teasing, her idle hand massaging your thigh soothingly. Jiu starts to weave in the slightest of nibbles, the slightest of prickles from her fangs, each scratch heightening your pleasure even more. Eventually she pauses at your tip, her canines pressing softly against its engorged flesh; giving you a curious look, as if asking for permission. Ordinarily you would be more than wary of risking your manhood inside the maw of a vampire, but tonight was no ordinary night... At your nod, Jiu's eyes narrow with approval once more, and she takes you in her mouth. Her tongue was like fire as it sweeps down your length, her head bobbing skillfully atop your cock; her gaze unerringly locked with your own. Jiu's skillful technique has you clenching the sheets, your hips writhing from the extraordinary sensations streaming from your groin. At one point she halts at your base, your cock down her throat, her tongue licking your sack for several minutes as she toys with your balls. Only when you are on the precipice of climax does she cease her ministrations , leaving your cock twitch mournfully in the chill of her bedroom.

Jiu rolls upright, leaning back she bashfully obscures her crotch as she daintily fiddles with something between her legs. With sultry slowness, she slides her midnight-colored panties down legs as pale as the stars, tossing them diffidently aside. Patting your leg affectionately, she crawls past you to snag a pillow, before reclining languidly upon it; she gives you a bemused glance as you lay together, "Well, take me." You scramble up, devouring the sight of her delicate body beneath you; your excitement only growing as she opens her legs for you. Her pallid pussy glistens with a faint sheen, as you plant yourself above Jiu, your cock bulging against the fabric of her dress; leaving a stain of precum upon it. She nods in encouragement, her soft hand guiding you down inside of her, your tips pressing between her labia before slipping inside. You both gasp at the surge of pleasure, her pussy gripping you tightly as you delve deeper inside of her unliving body. It was bizarrely enticing, lukewarm, yet sopping wet and tight; and it seemed with every thrust that it grew warmer. You bury your face into her neck, gnawing at her pale flesh passionately as you continue to pump away between her thighs. Jiu croons, wrapping her legs tight around you, her nails clawing at your back to spur you on, emitting the most adorable of squeaks as you plunge into her again and again. You haul yourself up so you can stare into her subtly crimson eyes, her mouth wide open and her fangs straining at their fullest extent. Her eyebrows raise in response to your unspoken question, knowing full well what you are about to ask. Jiu smiles lovingly, "Finish in me." You groan as your hips slam against hers, your balls pulsating painfully as they seek to empty themselves inside of Jiu. Who purrs with delight, pulling you closer to kiss and bite at your neck while you are lost in the pleasures of flooding her pussy with your seed. You feel her fangs dig into you once more, but you are beyond caring as stimulation crackles along every nerve.

As the afterglow of your orgasm fades you feel Jiu suckling upon your neck, delicately drinking your blood until she suddenly stops. Her tongue laps at your wound, soothing it close, as she rubs her hands through your hair reassuringly, "Well done my dear, I can feel your love burning within me. Yes, I think I am going to take my time with you..." You shudder at her praise, and feel as weak as a babe as she gently pushes you off of her. She touches a pale finger to your lips, smiling kindly, "Do not worry, I will be the... active one this time." Jiu stands up, balancing easily upon the soft mattress; slowly, bashfully, starting to unlace her bodice. You stare rapturously as her perky breasts shine softly in the moonlight, her nipples so pale as to almost blend into her milky flesh. With similar grace, she slides her dress down her slim form, shimmying to help the tight outfit slip past her waist. Her clothes pools at her feet, revealing her entire alluring body in the faint light; looking more like the statue of a goddess than a woman. Jiu glances down at your manhood, still shrunken from its exhaustive efforts inseminating her; and elegantly crouches down to attend to it. This time her fangs dig in more forcefully at the base of your shaft, before raking their way up and down it. Jiu's efforts are soon rewarded, as your member extends itself to its full length once more, already drooling with excitement.

Jiu straddles your waist, her lower lips wrapping around your manhood teasingly, sliding along your length gracefully as she looks at you expectantly. You nod frantically, beyond eager to be inside of her once more, and she beams at you in approval, "Good, now relax, and allow me to drain you..." She raises herself just enough to point your cock upwards before sitting upon it, slowly easing you inside of her pussy once more. Jiu's insides are now endowed with a fading warmth, which only increases your arousal; and her skillful riding is... otherworldly. Her hips seem to float along your shaft, bouncing atop you with a blasé disregard for body weight; seeming to ignore gravity as she moves in ways that would exhaust a normal woman in moments. Jiu's waist gyrates as she rides, curving her flushed pussy around your cock in novel fashion so that it is being pressed from multiple angles at once. Your shaking hands slowly raise up towards her jiggling breasts; Jiu, noticing your weakness, kindly helps you move them to her chest. You gratefully grope her perky boobs, using them to hold on tight as she picks up the pace. Jiu's movements quicken, her hips becoming a blur, your cock aching painfully from her speed, yet still fast approaching orgasm. You grit your teeth, growling as your balls begin to ache once more; then right at the edge, she halts, with just the tip inside of her. Jiu holds the awkward position without any visible effort, cupping your cheek benevolently, her eyes glowing bright in the dark, "Remember, relax."

As if a switch was thrown your muscles uncoil, leaving you as limp as a doll, and when Jiu completes her slow downward movement, you simply let it go. This was a far calmer orgasm compared to the last, with the vampiric idol slowly swaying in time to your cock's convulsions, allowing it to spurt it's seed at leisure, "There it is, I had forgotten how fragile you mortals can be sometimes. Ah well, my turn." With that, Jiu promptly unmounts you, firmly grasping you manhood before it can start to shrink once more; and with snake-like swiftness her fangs are once more fastened around your cock. This time though, she digs in, her canines spearing into your flesh, spilling forth the pent up blood inside. Jiu slurps hungrily upon your member, eyes alight with pleasure as she feasts more fully this time. Much like last time however, you are enjoying the sensation a touch more than you usually should, even more so now. Your still sensitive cock is awash with bliss, your semen continuing to leak out in a steady stream down your shaft, slopping down to where Jiu is feeding and mixing into her meal. Your vision is going grey around the edges by the time she stops, the slight pain in your cock disappearing, replaced by the steady numbness of her licking as she encourages the wounds to close. She gets up, her heavy breathing causing her breasts to sway; she smoothly glides off of the bed and out of sight. Jiu quickly returns however, tossing a thick wooly blanket over your shivering form and pushing a straw between your chapped lips, "Drink," she commands, and you readily comply.

Holding your head up, Jiu nurses you in motherly fashion, slipping a pillow under your head and checking your pulse, "You have lost around of liter of blood this night, I must admit, I had not expected you to be so... delectable," she seems to blush in the soft darkness, her eyes now blazing like red suns, "You will stay until morning, do not worry though, I am quite satiated." Jiu joins you underneath the blanket, curling close to you, her body warm for the first time since you had met her; her lips now hot against your flesh as she kisses you goodnight. Jiu had drained you utterly, in every sense of the word, and you allow yourself to drift off into sleep, thoroughly exhausted

The next morning, after you had left, Jiu glances at her phone as it chimes, smiles toothily, and responds,

"Give it a month dear, I want you fresh for your next visit..."

[fourteentrout]

Okay I have a fic brewing for today's @tamlinweek prompt biting/chest, but I don't actually know if it'll be ready to post to AO3 by the end of the day, so I figure I'd give a little snippet now!

This fic is Rhysand/Tamlin, past friends to enemies, present strangers to lovers. There's technically an age gap but Rhys worries about it way more than he actually needs to.

I promise my real post for it will be prettier than this haha. But anyways, the clip is below the cut if you'd like to see what's in store!

It’s maybe a little weird. Or a lot. Rhys can't really tell.

It's definitely a little weird that he's at a high school reunion for a class that he was never a student in, but Mor had asked until he relented, and he loves his cousin enough not to make a big deal about it. Plus, it's basically a form of community engagement. Good PR.

And it’s not like he wasn't curious.

(But Rhys supposes he knows what curiosity does to the cat.)

It probably is weird. He should just let it go. Pretend he didn’t even see that flash of pale hair, that once-familiar smile, the eyes that somehow still look green from afar in the dim throwback-to-homecoming lighting. Rhys knows that he’s become a little dry, distracted, and that people will start noticing, but he just can’t stop searching.

Looking for a trace of the boy he knew ten years ago in the man he sees now.

Tamlin looks practically unreal. His hair has gone from sandy, dirty blonde to vibrant, spun gold, practically platinum in some places. It cascades down past his shoulders, wavy and thick, holding none of the country club pretentiousness that his preppy little swoop had back in high school. His shy grin is the same, but the face it decorates is practically foreign. Angular and distinct, high-definition in human form.

When Rhys first met Tamlin, he’d looked like he was growing like a puppy. Linebacker shoulders that he didn’t seem to know how to grow into, a jawline hidden in lingering baby fat that he hadn’t yet grown out of. He’d always moved with a clear cautiousness, like he didn’t know what to do with his size, a kid piloting a teenage body. With the soft roundness of his face and the unsure gait he walked with, he'd almost appeared small despite his height.

Now, it seems like there’s not a part of him that hadn’t stopped growing since Rhys last saw him.

He fills out his sage green dress shirt like it was tailored to display his form in the most accurate way possible without the stitches ripping. He’s thicker than most average men, his chest curved, arms thick, and hell, even his legs show their definition through his light tan pants. He’s very clearly jacked.

It’s understated enough, though, that he doesn’t look crazy or roided out. Just very carefully crafted, like somewhere along the way, he’d turned himself to stone just to reshape his body into the cut he wanted.

His clean-shaven jaw is now entirely visible and perfectly sharp, not too severe. His cheeks have hollowed a bit as well, but not in a way that suggests cosmetic help. Broad shoulders now have the muscle to make up for it, his large hands finally matching the rest of his body, his strapping chest smoothly leading down to a slim waist, creating a figure that simply dominates among regular layfolk.

And he’s tall. Even taller than he’d been when Rhys graduated, towering over his company, easily clearing six feet.

He’s a man now. Practically a whole different person.

But it still feels so weird. That spark of attraction racing along Rhys’ veins, teasing the inside of his mouth, under his tongue.

If they were strangers, he wouldn’t think twice about it. It’s not that big of a difference.

But the fact is, they’re not strangers. They knew each other, once. When Rhys was already awaiting his acceptance letter from Brown, and Tamlin was fourteen.

[litchihikxriclub]

do you have hcs for the characters‘ handwriting? :)

Aside from a couple of particular details, I tried to leave these vague enough to be applicable to either English or Japanese handwriting. However, I'm admittedly not super familiar with the nuances of handwritten Japanese... >w>

. . .

Zera — Neat in an annoying way. Deliberately ornate, almost to the point of calligraphy, even for homework or day-to-day notes. Has DEFINITELY practiced his personal autograph (will not admit this). His natural handwriting is messy and rushed; think "doctor script".

Nico — Messy and plain. Lots of blocky shapes and sharp angles. Presses down so hard that he's prone to tearing paper and breaking pencil tips. Scratches out misspellings instead of erasing them, which results in black scribbles scattered around the page.

Raizou — You know that overly cutesy handwriting that got banned in Japanese classrooms in the 1970s? That. Goes out of his way to get everything as aesthetically pleasing as possible... which means lots of hearts, happy faces, and other decor. Even when he's not putting in so much effort, the rounded, "pretty" look stays.

Kaneda — Dark and scratchy, with letters so small and packed together that it's hard for other people to read them. Slanted, angular lines, and a messy-ish look that mostly comes from the overlapping look of letters and words without enough space between them.

Dentaku — Neat in a plain way. Everything is simple, precise, and readable, with no real notable features aside from the lack of them. It tends to look more like a font than an actual person's handwriting, but he's just proud of keeping even his messiest notes legible.

Dafu — Surprisingly neat. Light pressure, clean spacing, and softly rounded lines. It gets messier when he's rushed, but it's plenty legible even then. Prone to leaving little doodles (like that "love umbrella" drawing) and notes in the margins of whatever he's writing.

Tamiya — Messy in a careless way. His handwriting isn't bad, exactly, but he's certainly not putting a lot of effort into it. Can (and does) keep things neater on assignments and homework, but lapses into the more rushed look for anything that's not getting a grade.

Yakobu — Messy in a clumsy way. Rounded shapes and shaky lines, with a lot of obvious misspellings in words that he doesn't bother to correct. Writes "big" by default; it takes active concentration to keep his words small enough to stay in the lines of ruled paper.

Jaibo — The most illegible scrawl of lines that could possibly be passed off as actual handwriting. Filled with scribbly bits, scratched-out parts, and obvious mistakes, whether it's a silly note doodled in class or a formal assignment. This disaster handwriting is entirely deliberate; he thinks it's funny to make people decipher it.

Kanon — Pretty. Soft, rounded letters and clean lines, with hardly any crooked bits or erased-out mistakes. Near-perfect alignment and spacing even if she's writing on blank, unlined paper. Feminine, but in a mature way; not the cutesy look like Raizou's.

[catscidr]

Can I please request Dottore x clingy reader who loves giving him affection thank you! 💕

hell yeah baby that's what i'm TALKIN ABOUT ୧(☉□☉୨ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, vague mentions of gore includes: gn!reader, dottore, webttore mentionned for like a second wc: 1k

6 minutes. 

That was the longest amount of time Dottore had gone without being bugged by your presence. Well, "bugged” was a bit of a strong word- maybe more so inconvenienced by your endless whining for attention. It’s not that he hated it, it was quite the opposite really, but he actually needed to get work done before tomorrow and couldn’t afford to get distracted this time around. You called out after him for the millionth time today, trotting up to his side with an almost puppy-like expression, looking up at him expectantly. 

Currently wrist deep in the guts of one of his poor victims, he swallowed down the urge to speak his mind honestly, instead choosing to glance over at you from the corner of his eyes. His glare (unfortunately) did nothing to deter your determination and willpower- with his attention now on you, you flash him a bright smile, wrapping your arms around his torso from his right side. 

“Hey, why don’t you take a break?” you ask, tilting your head up to look at him properly. Dottore’s sharp, angular features never failed to make you swoon no matter how many times you looked at his unmasked face. You think it’s a blessing, but he argues that it’s a curse- especially now that you won’t leave him alone, making him pause his work. 

“No,” he sighs for the nth time, bringing his attention back to the corpse on the metal table. “I have work to do. Why don’t you go bother Delta instead? He should be filing out some paperwork,” the doctor says, skillfully shrugging you off of him. You shake your head, resting your hands on his forearm to give him the space he needed. 

“I don’t want to hang out with him though,” you say with a frown, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Come on, you’ve been working non-stop for ages now. Just a small break! An itty bitty one. Like thirty minutes. You can spare that much, can you?” 

The Harbinger stares at the wall with a deadpan expression, weighing his options. On one hand, he could give in, listen to you and take a much needed break. But on the other hand, he could always just... lock you in his office. Not that he would leave you there for long, just enough for him to get this experiment over with. Plus it’s not like you’d be like a dog stuck in a hot car in the middle of summer without any a/c, he had a plush sofa he never used im his office alongside a mini fridge he also never used. The amenities were there for this exact scenario, anyways- so you’d be comfortable while waiting for him to be done. Although, the more he thought about it, the more his body began to feel heavy, exhaustion seeping through his limbs. Dottore grumbles some choice words under his breath and withdraws his arms out from the bloody mess that came from his current experiment and makes his way towards the sink. You follow after him, curious. 

“‘Ttore?” 

“I give up,” the doctor sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. He turns on the sink and discards his bloody surgical gloves, washing his calloused hands under the cold water to get rid of whatever gunk had gotten on his skin. “What do you want?” he asks in an indecipherable tone. You perk up noticeably, a smile making its way back to your face as you watch him dry his hands and turn around to give you his full attention. 

“Just wanna spend time with you, honestly.” you say a little sheepishly. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Not hungry.” 

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?” 

The offer seemed tempting. After spending hours smelling nothing but hospital-grade cleaning supplies, iron and death the doctor wouldn’t say no to a trip outside of his lab- that is to say if he were anyone but the second Harbinger. 

Instead, he grabs his mask and lab coat from the coat rack and begins to walk away, making a gesture for you to follow after him. And you do so eagerly, catching up to him fairly quickly considering how long his strides were. 

Your footsteps echo in the quiet hallways, the only sound bouncing off the ornate walls of the otherwise cold and barren palace. The both of you reach your destination, Dottore pushing the door open to reveal his (barely used) bedroom. Tossing his coat aside and placing his mask on his nightstand, he loosens his button-down shirt and sits on his bed, looking at you with a raised brow. 

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?” he asks with the slightest bit of amusement, kicking off his shoes and repositioning himself to lay down on the bed properly. You snap out of it and shake your head, closing the door behind you, jumping in next to him happily. Your bodies fit with one another perfectly, his arms snaking themselves around your waist while you hold him around his shoulders, keeping one free hand to stroke his icy locks. He hums contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Happy?” he asks, voice muffled from how close his face is to your chest. Your nails gently scratch his scalp, drawing out a soft sigh from the doctor. 

“Very,” you say, smile audible in your tone of voice. Dottore simply hums in response, basking in the comfort of the warmth of your body against him. Part of you felt the need to ask him how long he wanted to stay like this knowing that the doctor hated being away from his lab but, feeling a bit selfish, you allow yourself to revel in the small victory that came in the form of finally convincing Dottore to let you have him all to yourself for a portion of his day. The both of you drift off peacefully, knowing perfectly well that you’re going to repeat this dance once more in the morning when the Harbinger has to work.

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 5 Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

He heard a car engine slowing down, and nearly gawked at how expensive the car sounded. It was that subtle, powerful hum, not flashy, but serious money. It sounded like one of his cars from home, and the only reason he could afford them was because it was part of his contract.

He technically couldn’t afford cars like that himself. But this guy? He had to be next-level rich to own one outright.

Okay, whoever’s next… they’re either filthy rich or trying way too hard. Please let him be hot.

The first thing Y/N noticed as this guy rounded the corner were his cheekbones. Sharp cheekbones caught the dim light, casting angular shadows that made his face look sculpted with intent. Not that that was a bad thing.

Y/N’s gaze trailed from those cheekbones down to broad shoulders that filled out his shirt with a natural kind of ease. His skin was tanned, but not like he’d been sunbathing, more like he worked outdoors, traveled, lived. His hair was tousled, and it worked. Like he hadn’t tried that hard, but everything still landed perfectly in place.

Maybe perfection was just accidental, Y/N thought, watching how a few strands fell over his brow.

He was wearing a light blue button-down, sleeves casually rolled to the forearms. Cream trousers, clean lines, dark brown shoes, polished but lived-in. The shirt clung to his chest and arms, not in a way that screamed attention, just... honest muscle. Built. Earned.

“Hey,” the man said, stepping into the soft lighting. His voice was low, smooth, and slightly husky, with that unmistakable Australian lilt. “I’m Mark.”

“I like your outfit,” Y/N said, trying not to stare.

Mark gave a modest smile. “Ah, cheers. I usually try to blend in with my clients. Helps keep them safe when I don’t stand out too much. But, I won’t lie, I know I clean up alright.”

“Your clients?” Y/N tilted his head.

“Used to be military. Now I work as a bodyguard. High-profile stuff, usually.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “You keep your head down, know the terrain, stay alert. And if people assume you’re just another rich guy? All the better.”

“Okay, but… is this really you? Or am I getting one of your cover identities right now?”

Mark chuckled, not offended. “This is me. I’m not working right now, so… figured I could be myself for once. Hopefully it doesn’t come back to bite me if you ever do hire me.”

“Oh? Why would it?”

He grew a bit more serious, voice soft. “If they know who you care about, they know where your weakness is. That’s how they get to you. So I’ve always kept things close to the chest. Blending in means you’re not exposing anyone you love.”

Y/N blinked. That wasn’t just tactical. That was real.

“Tell me more about you,” Y/N said, tone gentler.

“I’m thirty-seven. From Australia. Been working private security the past few years. Honestly? I came here because… I’m finally at a place where I want more. Something real. I want to build a life, not just protect other people’s.”

He looked down at his shoes for a beat, then up again, a little unsure, a rare crack in the calm exterior.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Maybe I’m getting older. Maybe I’m just… tired of waiting.”

Y/N’s voice was soft. “What would you do for a first date with me?”

Mark’s eyes twinkled slightly at the question. “Honestly? Teach you a bit of self-defense.” He smiled when Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Not because I don’t think you can handle yourself. But because… if I’m with someone like you, I want to know you’re safe. Whether I’m there or not.”

Y/N laughed, genuinely. “That’s… weirdly charming. Never had someone pitch that as a date before.”

Mark smiled modestly. “Well, I’m not much for suits and candlelit clichés. I like things that are grounded. Real. And I promise, we’d make it fun.”

“If you could travel anywhere in the world?” Y/N asked, curious now.

“Monaco,” Mark answered without hesitation. “Spent time there with clients, but never really got to see it. Just moved through it. I’d like to go back. Properly. Take it in. It’s peaceful, coastal… reminds me of home, in a way. And I wouldn’t mind doing that with someone like you beside me.”

As he stepped back to leave, Y/N caught himself staring again, the way Mark moved was effortless, but strong. Like someone used to carrying more than just weight.

And then Mark turned around. Holding a knife.

Y/N flinched, eyes widening as production leapt into motion around him. But Mark raised a calm hand, unbothered.

“Hey, easy. Sorry.” His voice stayed even, eyes steady on Y/N. “It’s for you.”

“What?”

He offered the handle. “I’d love to be your bodyguard someday. I really would. But I can’t always be there. And you shouldn’t trust everyone you meet, even here. This isn’t a threat. It’s a reminder. Just in case.”

Y/N took the knife carefully. It was small. Practical. Compact.

Mark smiled faintly. “Hopefully you’ll never need it. But I’ll sleep better knowing you have it.”

When Mark turned around with that knife, Y/N’s breath caught. Maybe not the best first impression.

Or maybe... exactly the best.

(cut to y/n’s interview)

"Yeah, that was... definitely not what I was expecting. But honestly? It was kind of cool. Like, yeah, I was a little freaked out at first, but he was just being himself, right? It's not every day someone gives you a knife as a first gift. It was intense, but in a weird way, I appreciated it. Shows he’s serious, I guess? Not to mention, the guy’s got... well, he’s got presence. Like, you can tell he’s used to being in control of situations. That’s something you can’t fake. I wasn’t expecting to be so... drawn to him. I mean, the whole bodyguard thing? I can’t deny that part of me was like, 'Okay, that's cool.' He definitely has that strong, protective energy. But there's something more to him. He’s not just a muscle guy. He’s thoughtful, he explained the knife thing, and honestly, that showed me that he’s not just about appearances. He’s about protecting the people he cares about. I think that’s pretty... appealing. I think he’s definitely someone who could surprise me. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m ready to jump into something serious. But with Mark? I don’t know, I feel like he’s been through a lot and knows what he wants. And I respect that. It's not just about looks or charm. He's here for something real, and that's what I’m looking for. It’s early, though. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but I could see myself being interested in someone like Mark. I guess I just need to see more. But that knife moment? Yeah, I’ll definitely be thinking about that one for a while."

(cut to Mark’s interview)

"Yeah, that was... different. I wasn’t expecting to hand him a knife. But I wanted to make sure he felt safe, you know? It’s what I do. I'm a protector. It's hard to turn that off, even in a setting like this. I know it probably came across a bit intense, but it’s just my instinct to make sure he’s prepared. Plus, I thought it would show him I’m not all talk. If I'm gonna be his bodyguard, I want him to know I'm serious, but also that I’m not afraid to have a little fun with it. And he laughed. He seemed to get it, even though I could tell it was... a bit much at first. I think that’s what makes him interesting. He’s not just all about the surface stuff. He saw beyond the bodyguard act, and that’s exactly what I wanted. I don't want to be seen as just the 'tough guy.' There’s a lot more to me than that. He’s smart, he can read people, and that’s what I like. But yeah, I’m also not here to just impress him with muscle. I want to show him I’m serious. At 37, I’m thinking about the future. The last thing I want is to waste anyone’s time. I’m ready to build something real, to find someone who isn’t intimidated by my job or the kind of life I live. Someone who’s got depth, someone like Y/N. I think he could be someone who appreciates that, and that's what I’m hoping for."

---

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay

[dreamerwithoutadirection]

Sparks Gone Wrong

The time when Y/N falls in love with her neighbour- a hot single father.

Warnings: Eventual Yandere. Nothing for now! This will be like a two or three part series!

"Where are you taking this adorable little one?" you inquire, approaching your neighbour and his giggling toddler. He's a handsome single dad of a 5-year-old, someone who has fueled your fantasies. Angular face with rich brown locks cascading his equally brown eyes in a set fashion. A hot wet dream. Close in proximity, yet distant in reality. It's been three months since he relocated to the apartment across from yours. 

He walks past you, leaving you mid-jig with an awkward smile plastered on your face as you try to make his daughter laugh. Did I mention he always ignores you? Well, yeah. 

You sigh as you follow him to the elevator. Yet another unsuccessful attempt. Any effort to talk made by you was always shot down with curt nods or grunts. The only time you ever heard him speak in full sentences was when he introduced himself three months back. And you were pretty sure you made a fool of yourself.

“Are you a fairy?” you mumbled as you looked at the most handsome man you had seen in a while. 

Kim Taehyung continued to look at you with a stoic face. No expression. No response. You felt the gush of embarrassment, feeling your ears turning red. A natural reaction you had every time you felt appalled. 

“I am sorry, I am not this awkward usually I promise” you tried to laugh it off as you gestured for him to come in. 

“I will leave then, thank you for your time.” You stood and watched the man turn around and leave. Leaving you mortified at the interaction. 

That feeling of being mortified followed you at every exchange you had with him since then. A never ending saga. 

You sighed again while entering the lift. You could feel the awkwardness with each passing second. What had you ever even done to him?! Enough is enough. 

Mustering your courage, feeling your heart beating wildly, you turned to look into his eyes, “You know you haven’t said a word to me since you moved in. And I am not sure what have I ever done to offend you! Because if anything I have been very kind at every instance” your voice rose, “and every time you have been nothing but a prick to me- ‘Ding! The door is opening.’

Taehyung continued to look forward without a second glance at you. 

“Maybe I am not interested” he bluntly expressed his disinterest as he walked off towards his car. Leaving you with a mix of disappointment and the sting of embarrassment, all while the lift doors closed, sealing the moment with a sense of unresolved tension.

                                               *-------*--------*

“Oh my g-” your work friend Jin continued to laugh as you recounted the episode. He was so loud that you could feel the eyes of your colleagues at your table.  

“Can you shut it” you hiss, delivering a discreet kick under the table to emphasise your frustration.

“All right..all right” His eyes still holding the mirth. “On a serious note, Jin's eyes turning sharp and voice sombre, “I think you need to back off. Nothing’s worse than unwanted attention.” reaching out to hold your hand, “Moreover, you are a catch. Find someone without baggage. He has a daughter. And that’s a huge responsibility, no matter how hot he is.”

His words felt like a needle in your chest. The reality of you one sided crush sank in. Him having a daughter was never a problem for you because she was absolutely adorable. And despite the well-intentioned advice, it stung to acknowledge that your efforts might be in vain, leaving you with an unexpected ache in your chest.

A faint smile appeared on your face. “Maybe you are right. I need to back off.” You stood up feeling the loss of appetite. With that you went to keep your plate at the clean up area.

Some things aren’t meant to be. 

                                               *-------*--------*

Next day, you found yourself contemplating your friends' words all the while sipping the freshly brewed coffee. The noise of daily news running in the background. 

"Perhaps it's time to move on. There are better things to explore than deciphering the mystery of Taehyung’s demeanour." Taking a deep breath, you decided- you are not going to approach Mr. Kim any longer. If it’s not meant to be, why waste your time anyway? You were a catch, so, well, his loss. 

With the new found resolution you began to dress for the court proceedings you had to attend. It was an ongoing case related to organised crime. A man had finally confessed about his involvement in cities increasing drug abuse cases and you were in charge of prosecuting him. It was going to be an eventful day indeed, you thought as you pulled up your skirt.

Taking one final look in the mirror, you headed out. As you made your way through the hallway, a familiar handsome silhouette in the muted light appeared ahead. No sight of his daughter. Well, whatever, none of your concern. Deciding to maintain a polite distance, you exchanged a nod in passing which didn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung. 

You had been pestering him for months. What changed? He wondered. He could see you were dressed in your courtroom attire. Another hearing perhaps? Taehyung wasn’t oblivious. He knew you had a crush on him. And he wasn’t blind either. You were beautiful with your luscious hair and supple skin, he desired to explore. He was sure it was soft. He knew it.

But he decided to keep to himself as usual. Now was not the time to get involved with you. There were other things that required his attention. For instance, that meeting he had been postponing for a month. And his daughter whom he adored with his life. And the household work. As he left the lift though, one thing kept resurfacing in his mind. Something had changed since yesterday with you. Taehyung wasn’t sure if he was fond of it. 

Part II

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: incubus!grimmjow jaegerjacquez x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

about: the ravenous desire of your roommate never seems to abate despite the late nights he spends outside of the comfort of your apartment. when he approaches you, the truth comes out. can you fulfill the appetite of an incubus?

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw dark content - dubcon, somnophilia. brief mention of masturbation (f), unprotected penetrative sex (piv), light degradation (slut/slutty), creampie, possessiveness. reader is only partially awake/aware through the fic and assumes she's dreaming.

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! yall ever wanted to fuck a cat boy demon before bc i know i have and here he is in all his weirdo glory. what i love about doing this is that it rly forces me out of my element (writing more smut bc historically i haven't enjoyed writing it all that much) and exploring new/darker concepts i haven't always felt like i have the ability to write.

hopefully this is something everyone can enjoy! thank you for reading ♡

Since you signed your lease nine months ago, you’ve always had a standing agreement with your strange roommate Grimmjow.

“If you need anything, just knock on my door and I’ll be there.”

You aren’t sure why you felt compelled to offer your time or support to the man in the first place - perhaps it was your too tender heart taking one roving glance over him and realizing that he simply looked like he needed someone. Eyes like a predator, narrowed and a sharp, angular frame in an oversized t-shirt. You met him through an online post looking for a roommate and desperation, and the end of your relationship, gave you no option but to accept. The situation appeared too fortuitously for you to turn it down.

The past nine months have gone as swimmingly as one could expect living with a stranger would, though. 

He comes and goes without much fuss but if you are honest with yourself - you find some of his habits strange. You try not to think too hard about them, after all you’re just his roommate and he owes you no explanation, but there are times where you wonder why he skulks late at night. When he comes home after these late night adventures, you always notice him looking rested the next day and it has never made sense to you. The dark circles under his eyes seem to magically abate and his posture fixes itself, walking tall and strong across the scuffed wooden floors the two of you share.

Aside from this, though - he pays his half of the rent on time, he manages to clean up after himself as well as you can expect, and he asks you no questions about who you are or what you’re doing with your life.

Until tonight, strangely enough.

“What are you gettin’ up to tonight?” 

Grimmjow’s voice is a growl more so than anything else, as long as you’ve known him it has been this way, but it sounds different. Lower, perhaps. You tip your head to the side and offer a half smile, shrugging and letting the collar of your oversized t-shirt fall off of your shoulder enough to expose the flesh beneath it.

“Weather’s supposed to be shitty so I’m staying in. Same as usual.” 

He hums his answer, stretching his legs to place his feet on the table across from the couch where you both sit. You take a moment to look over him - blue eyes and hair to match. You’ve never asked him if the hair color is natural, assuming the opposite is true, but you have never seen a hint of dark brown or blonde growing out of his head. 

In fact, there’s a lot of things you’ve never seen him do but you’ve always just assumed he does them at night while he’s out but you try too hard not to think about it. The two of you have a no questions asked policy, at least silently you’ve agreed to one but you bite further, breaking your own internal code to pry for details.

“How about you?”

Shifting where he sits, he puts his arms up over his head and readjusts his legs, one foot resting on top of the other. You watch his shift in posture, eyes trailing up long legs and admiring the way his bicep bulges with the angle his arm is bent at. It’s strange but you’ve never taken the time to really look at your roommate in all these months but now that you are.

He’s pretty hot. 

You look away quickly, hoping you weren’t caught in the act of boundary bouncing, placing your hands in your lap primly and he smirks, settling into the couch behind him with a few wiggles of his shoulders. He takes his turn looking at you, a smile you’re trying to hide and hair still damp after getting out of the shower, and he wonders how you haven’t caught onto him yet. This isn’t the first time he has eyed you with those blazing, partially sunken eyes but you feel the intensity of it this time and tuck your shoulders forward to hide the embarrassment of being seen.

“Might stick around,” he sniffs and wrinkles his nose. “Feelin’ kinda hungry though.”

Instantly, you beam. Perhaps this could be a good way for the two of you to actually get to know each other since you have never really shared a meal with the man outside of shitty pizza on the nights you’ve stayed up late enough to greet him before he leaves and doesn’t return until sunrise. 

“I can make us some dinner if you wanna stick around? If not, I get it, it’s not supposed to get super bad out until later.”

What you don’t realize is that the hunger he’s speaking of is something very different than what can be sated by what you’re offering. Despite this, for a brief moment, he considers it and you watch him do so. He licks his bottom lip, pink tongue darting out and takes one of his hands off of the back of his head  to rub his thumb in the wet trail left behind by the motion.

“Nah, I gotta do a couple things.”

Heat you’ve never felt before crawls up the back of your neck and you look away again. You’re flustered, the effortless eroticism of whatever just happened making your skin feel itchy, and he chuckles. 

What could possibly be so funny? 

You think of the question but don’t say it aloud, almost embarrassed at his reaction to you. Did you misread his suggestion? Did you just make the next three months of your lease unbearably awkward? 

Grimmjow takes his feet off the table and places them on the ground, leaning forward and your gaze falls on the forward bend of his spine and the way the overgrown hair at the nape of his neck curls slightly. 

Why are your eyes so drawn to him today? It feels as though it takes all of your self control just to look away but you manage to, cheeks warm and hairline dappled with sweat. This feeling is strange in a way that you lack the words to explain and you keep your eyes trained on the ground even as he stands up and stretches, his shirt exposing the bottom of his abdomen.

“I’ll take you up on your offer another night, though.”

Flicking your eyes upward, you catch the sliver of tanned skin just above his waistline and another rash of heat crawls across your face. Your mouth is dry and you nod, lifting your face enough to give him an uncertain and forced smile.

“You alright?” Again, you nod. It’s all you can do right now until you have a sip of water or get some air or…something. He smirks and gives you a sidelong glance as he heads toward the door.

“Get some fresh air, it might make you feel better.”

Your face heats further knowing that he can tell what’s happening to you but he makes no other comment. The sound of him slipping on his jacket and boots fills the otherwise quiet apartment and he opens the door hoping he can find something to sate this appetite before he comes home and makes it your problem.

Judging by how you reacted to him tonight, though, you may not be all that upset if he does make it your problem but that’s a boundary to be tested another time.

“Fuck,” you whimper with your lip tucked between your teeth, the squelching of your fingers working in and out of your own sopping cunt filling your bedroom interspersed with whines and moans both from you and the little video on your phone.

The moment Grimm left, the heat became unbearable. You thought about taking your shorts off right on the couch and letting your fingers explore but held yourself back, instead taking a few minutes to walk around, have something to drink, to see if the need started to feel less intense.

After several minutes of intense pacing, you decided to take care of the issue yourself. Sure, it’s perverted and wrong to feel this turned on simply by taking a good hard look at your damn near otherworldly roommate but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and after this you’ll go back to keeping your distance.

Letting your fingers dip further inside of you, you gasp, mouth forming the first letter of his name. Immediately you freeze, shocked that you’d be so brazen despite the apartment being empty, and you shut your eyes tightly and silently work yourself toward orgasm with someone else’s pleas for more playing through the speaker on your phone. 

A little whimper is all you manage, walls clenching around your digits. It isn’t the best you’ve ever had but it isn’t the worst either and it seems like enough for now to help your racing heartbeat calm down to something more manageable. Withdrawing your fingers with a deep breath, filling your lungs completely before emptying them in the same fashion by exhaling, you roll over onto your side, locking and tossing your phone on the bedside table. 

What the fuck just happened? What the fuck has this entire evening been?

Chuckling at the absurdity of the past few hours, you reach around blindly for something to wipe your sticky hand on and settle on the t-shirt you discarded earlier. You know you need to get up but you feel pleasantly dazed instead, wiping your fingers and keeping your heavy eyes shut. 

Free from embarrassment and far less wound up, you start to doze. The room is cool and the fall storm the news warned you about blows outside, the gentle sound of thunder lulling you into an unexpected but much needed rest. 

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear a knock, knock, knock at your cracked bedroom door.

Eyes fluttering open just enough to see Grimmjow standing in the doorway, you shut and open them just to make sure you’re really seeing what you’re seeing. It’s too dark to make out all of him but your blurry eyes scan his face, noticing his cheeks look almost hollow and the same deep dark circles beneath his eyes before he left tonight look darker and heavier. 

“Grimm?” You ask and his response is a low growl, footsteps echoing through your quiet room as he pads toward the edge of your bed. “Are you okay?”

He stalks like a predator across the floor, making methodical and swift footfalls at the foot of your bed. You sit up, forgetting that you fell asleep completely nude, and his pacing stops when his eyes settle on your exposed breasts, your blanket bunched beneath them.

“I’m hungry,” he repeats just as he did earlier and you are too tired to figure out what he means. Giggling, you still haven’t noticed the way he eyes you hungrily, stiffened nipples grabbing his attention and keeping it. 

“Couldn’t find anything good to eat while you were out?”

Your words are a jumble, something that would make sense to no one else but the man who has lived with you for 9 months who has figured out your morning sleepy voice and the way it all blurs together. He approaches the edge of your bed and sits down, watching you lay back down and settle against your comforter.

“Nothing sounded good,” he admits, flipping around and crawling on all fours up the bed. You’re so sweet and disarmed, rain pattering on the windowpane while your chest rises and falls and your eyes fight to stay shut. “Definitely not as good as what’s at home.”

You giggle again, eyes closed so you don’t notice the way the distance between the two of you closes further. His body is large but lithe and each movement sends him closer and closer to you until he catches the scent of something familiar.

Arousal. 

He grins, feral and large, crawling the extra few inches to fully envelop you. Caging you in with his arms, your eyes open and see his face inches from yours, his bare chest almost pressing against your own.

“What are you doing?”

The question doesn’t seem alerted or concerned, just curious, and sleepy you reaches out to brush your fingers down the defined bicep holding him up. He chuckles and the sound makes the same heat you felt hours ago crawl up your neck and that’s the moment you realize something is different about him. Your hackles raise slightly and you sit up but he pushes you back down gently, hand splayed between your breasts.

“You said I could come to you for anything I needed, right?”

Despite the fact his hand feels so hot it could burn a hole straight through your body, you nod. You offered yourself months ago and he had yet to take advantage of your kindness. Leaning down, he watches your eyes fully open and presses his forehead to yours.

“I need you,” he mutters and your eyes meet his. A storm of blue, a flurry of something you have never seen before. He groans, almost looking pained and you gasp and hold onto his bicep. You can put two and two together, intelligent and alert enough to manage that much, and your hand slides over where his palm rests on your chest. 

“Like this?” You ask, sliding his hand from the space between your breasts to cupping one of them and he nearly growls feeling your skin beneath his fingers. His thumb dances over your hardened nipple and you gasp, shivering beneath him.

“Bet you never thought you’d end up with somethin’ like me in your apartment,” he taunts, hand tracing down your body, mapping out your stomach and hips. You don’t think much of his words, lost to the sensation of being touched and the heat incinerating all rational thought inside of you, but one word catches your interest and you repeat it.

“Don’t you mean someone?”

Another chuckle shakes his body, his fingers caressing your thigh. He shakes his head where it’s pressed against yours and you can only watch when he licks his lips again just as he did earlier, the motion making your head spin.

“Nah, I’m a somethin’.”

With this, he wants to stop further questioning and he leans in to kiss you. By this point your mind should be catching up, alert and awake, but you aren’t convinced this isn’t some kind of strange horny dream you managed to conjure up so you kiss him back eagerly. The wet sound of lips smacking together in a frenzy fills the room, tongues sliding against one another and you even yelp when he nips at your lower lip, sucking the fullness of it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, hand that was tracing across your thighs now pushing them open. He paws at your still slick pussy, a thick finger slipping between your lips with little resistance. He revels in the feeling of your hot arousal, smearing it around your hole and rubbing little circles around your clit rather than on it that make you whimper.

“Grimm,” you pant and he only chuckles, a second digit joining the first in spreading your wetness. The pressure of the two fingers makes your hips buck, desperate for more.

“You've been having fun without me? Sure feels like it.”

Puzzled, you wonder what he means until you realize that he can insert a finger inside of you without any resistance, still worked open from your previous attempts to get yourself off. Walls clenching around the single digit, he groans into your ear. Your warmth feels luxurious, like silk. It’s more than he could have ever hoped for.

“I don’t mind,” he continues massaging your walls with his finger in the way only an expert can. You surely must be dreaming, none of your other partners have ever been this skilled with just their fingers, and you let yourself have this moment. What’s the worst that could happen? “Gettin’ this eager little pussy all ready for me is almost too nice of you.”

The words are filthy and they make you whine, hips bucking against his hand and where it rests over the top of your pelvis. You’re greedy, desperate for more. He could do just about anything to you right now and you know that you’d let him, drooling pussy leaking down his finger.

“You want more? Tired of feelin’ so empty?”

The slow rolls of your hips tell him all he needs to know and he uses his free hand to slip out of the sweatpants he wore into your bedroom, cock already hard and leaving a wet spot on the front of them. He rolls his eyes, tossing them aside as fluidly as he can while still keeping you full of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you what we both need. Gonna fill this fuckin’ slutty pussy up, give you what you were almost beggin’ me for earlier.”

Ah yes, that. Even dream you can’t escape the embarrassment of his effect on you in the living room but you let the feeling go, instead focusing on how good it feels every time the pad of his finger brushes against the spot deepest inside of you that your own fingers could never reach. 

“I want it,” you admit aloud. He smirks, finger withdrawing from you and making you whine. Your body feels as hot as it did hours ago and twice as wound up, clit throbbing from lack of attention. Blood pulses in your ears and you look up, witnessing the way he’s coating his shaft in his own precum with a gasp.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fill you up just like you need,” he coos, it’s so condescending but you hardly notice, too busy reveling in the way it feels when the fat head of his cock brushes through your folds. You don’t have to think about anything right now and you embrace the feeling, allowing him control. 

What he doesn’t mention is that he needs it even more than you do, the maw inside of him demanding that he slip inside of you just like he is now.

He shudders, body tensing as he sheaths himself inside of you in one sharp movement, your breath catching in your throat when his balls slap against your ass. He’s so impossibly deep and despite how wet and opened up you are, your cunt stretches deliciously to accommodate his girth. 

Again, this has to be a dream. Nothing in real life could ever feel this good and your toes curl, spread legs shifting to link at the ankles and wrap around his waist. You feel the firmness of his ass against your calves as he grinds into you, the gentleness ending as quickly as it started when he draws his hips back completely and thrusts back inside of you in one swift motion.

Your back arches off of the bed and he drinks in the sight of you, flashes of lightning outside allowing enough light to leak in to give him a good look at everything he has been vying to see. The knot inside of him slowly starts to untangle, his furious pace making your body bounce up the bed and he wonders why he waited this long to just give in.

Perhaps he’s losing his touch after years. He could’ve just snuck in and taken you any evening he wanted to, you wouldn’t be the first he’d done it to given his nearly unquenchable thirst, but he wanted you to want it too. To want him. To give yourself to him.

He chuckles like a wild man, leaning over your body and kissing you again while holding your hips in place to fuck you wildly.

“Takin’ me so well I might have to make you all mine,” he offers and you moan, clenching around him. So you liked that, he takes a note. You like being wanted, you like being taken. He knew it from the moment he saw you but he always loves it when a gut feeling is confirmed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Lettin’ an incubus use your pussy whenever he wants like a slut, right?”

Your eyes widen at the word. Incubus - you recall reading some asinine online story about a woman who swore she’d been fucked by one years ago but again, this is your weird dream about your abnormally hot roommate so you don’t question it. 

“Yeah, I love it Grimm,” you whisper against his mouth, tongue too heavy to say much else. You’ve never felt like this before, body singing and silky walls clinging to his cock, and you’re ready to let yourself start the endless freefall of pleasure, eyes shutting tightly while he grunts above you.

“That’s right, I can feel it. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”

Keeping your eyes screwed shut, you only nod and he lets you grind against his pelvis, clit brushing the dusting of blue hair at the base of his cock. It’s soft and silky and it’s just what you need, friction spurring you further into bliss as you cum with a shout, eyes shooting open.

This isn’t a dream, you realize suddenly, feeling Grimm’s cock drilling in and out of you at a breakneck pace. You are in your bed, thunder rolling outside, your phone on the bedside table, your body bouncing with every thrust. Your blue haired roommate hovers just above you, face twisted in pleasure while glancing down at where the two of you are joined, the slick sound of your pussy bringing you to reality.

This is really happening and honestly, you just..let it. 

Reaching for Grimmjow, you card your fingers through his hair, and he lets his eyes flutter closed. Your fingers dance through the same short hair at the nape of his neck you were admiring hours earlier and he grunts, hips stilling. Using both hands to hold you in place, he fills your eager cunt full of his creamy release and you moan along with him.

Unceremoniously, he slumps forward and your chests touch. You giggle and kiss his forehead, looking down to see him looking far better than he did when he entered your room. His eyes don’t gleam dangerously anymore and the dark circles seem to have sorted themselves out, his face resting on the top of your breast.

“Hey Grimm?”

He looks up, surprised you’re alert enough to even let that much come out of your mouth. 

“Everything you said…”

You don’t have to elaborate further, he’s aware of what you’re asking. Is it true? Did he admit what he really is, what the source of his appetite is?

“Yup.”

You don’t ask for further explanation and he doesn’t plan on giving it, content to let you run your fingers through his hair as the storm rages outside.

[magalidragon]

unexpectedly mine | a Jonerys fic | teaser

Guys I couldn’t help myself I am so excited about this one for @snowxstormworld Orgasmic October 2024 🤭 Inspired by a book @youwerenevermine and I love including a birthday moodboard she made me see here.

Well look at that, there was Just Jon and then there was Dany with the Long Name, she thought. What a random pair. The drunk patron and the male stripper/dancer who was off duty, she guessed, judging from his cleaned up appearance. She swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. "Hey um...you're all done, yeah?"

Just Jon cocked his head briefly, the movement dislodging a springy curl near his forehead. He smiled momentarily and slowly nodded. "I am."

"How about I buy you a drink to thank you for..." What the fuck are you doing Daenerys? This had to be the alcohol speaking. She was never like this. She waved her hand towards the table where they'd been sitting. "For keeping me from having a full blown whatever that was over there."

He edged around the door, gesturing for her to step ahead of him. A small frown creased his brow. "Oberyn doesn't usually like us fraternizing with patrons."

Well shit. She swallowed hard, her inebriation clearly wearing off because of how sharp the sting of embarrassment felt. "Oh well..."

His fingers lightly touched the small of her back; the dress she was wearing was a slip dress, of thin white satin with a lacy cut out over her midsection that dipped down to the dip of her spine, thin straps that went over her shoulders and well, most of the back wasn't there, so he ended up hitting warm, bare skin. A jolt of heat shot through her, settling a bit south of her belly. Where a rather nagging ache happened to be forming the longer she remained in his presence.

He smiled; in the poorly lit entryway it threw his already angular face in relief and he was more wolf than man. "I said he doesn't usually like us to do it. Not that he forbid us."

She swallowed hard again and a smile pulled over her lips, before she realized it was even happening. "Well Just Jon...let's go get that drink."

"After you Dany With the Long Name."

[carefulignorantghost]

We Meet Again

You realize you’re pregnant, but only after you and Alex have broken up. 6 years pass and you’re looking for a house cleaning job and Alex becomes your boss unknowingly.

Warnings: breakup and pregnancy discussions

You stared at the pregnancy test. It read positive.

You had symptoms such as a missed period and nausea, but you didn’t think you were pregnant. You had always been careful with Alex; he always used condoms. But you broke up a few weeks ago.

“Y/N, how the fuck do you think I feel? I don’t want to do this, but I just don’t love you anymore.” Alex said frustrated, with his hands in the air. “I don’t love you anymore!” He yelled. “I’ve moved on from you, Y/N! I want something casual; I don’t want a relationship anymore.”

You just stared at him in shock. You had been together for 3 and a half years; since you were both 14. Yes, he was acting distant, but you thought he was just stressed.

“When did you fall out of love?” You asked him, stepping forward.

“It’s been a few months. How did you not notice?” Alex said coldly.

You looked away from him. “I thought you were stressed, Al.”

“Well, you were wrong, Y/N.” He looked down at you.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to come off as the clingy girlfriend who worries about everything!” You yelled.

“You already were the clingy girlfriend. And now I want to be able to have fun without you clinging onto me.”

Alex walked out the door.

And here you were; staring at the pregnancy test, unable to look at anything else.

What was gonna happen now? What were you gonna tell your parents?

You weren’t going to tell Alex. You figured he wouldn’t care.

***

Your parents were upset when you told them.

“How could you be so careless, Y/N?!” Your mom yelled, standing up from her seat. Your dad sat beside her, still in shock.

“Mom, I swear we were careful! Condoms don’t always work!” You said exasperated.

“Well, obviously! You’re fucking pregnant, Y/N!” Your mom said.

***

Your mom came in your room later that night.

“Honey, it’s ok if you choose to keep the baby.” She sat down on the bed and reached to hold your hand.

“But what about university?” You questioned.

“We’ll figure it out. It’s ok. You’re gonna be ok.” She hugged you.

6 years later.

You had moved to Los Angeles to focus on modeling. You worked two other jobs to support you and your daughter. But you weren’t getting booked and your modeling agency fired you.

Your daughter, Lila, was asleep and you were on your computer, looking at house cleaning jobs. You were laid off a couple days ago and desperately needed a job.

You saw a really high offer local to LA.

You clicked on it.

“I need someone who can clean my house and run errands for me. You can move into the guest bedroom if you’d like. Will pay $200 per day. No extra water and electricity fees.”

You immediately messaged the person.

“Hey, I’d love to work for you. I have a 6 year old daughter and would need to move in. Would that be okay?” You sent the message and waited for a response.

The person replied almost immediately.

“No problem at all. My name’s Al, by the way. The address is ——. Are you able to move in next week?”

“Yes, I am.” You responded.

***

You had just dropped off your daughter at school. You stood outside Al’s place with your luggage. He lived in a mansion in North Hollywood. The mansion was a modern style with sharp angles and lines. It looked about three stories tall, and had a huge balcony.

You walked up the pathway to the front door and rang the doorbell.

You heard the door unlock and open.

You were greeted by a familiar face.

Alex.

You stared at each other, making sure this was actually happening.

Alex looked just the same but brand new to you. His hair was gelled into a quiff and his features were even more angular. Alex wore a black leather jacket and tight jeans.

“Wow, erm- I-“ Alex began.

“How are you?” You asked, trying to stay calm. Seeing him brought up so many feelings and questions. You thought you had gotten over him, but the hurt he caused just settled into your bones.

“Come in, come in.” Alex said ignoring your question but motioning for you to come inside. He lead you to the living room before sitting on the couch. You sat on the chair opposite him.

“God, Y/N. It’s been fucking forever. How are you?” Alex said worriedly.

“Umm… There’s a lot that’s happened. I worked as a model for many years up until recently. Brands weren’t booking me, so my agency fired me.” You paused. “That was a week and a half ago. And now here I am.” You explained. It was difficult for you to talk about what you had previously thought Alex would be with you for.

“Oh my God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Alex furrowed his brow.

“And how have you been, Al?” You asked. How did it come to this?

“Life’s been going pretty well. The Monkeys and I have been releasing albums and going on tours. We’re actually working on our fifth album.” He said shyly.

“I’m really happy for you, Alex.” You said genuinely. But you wondered what your life would’ve looked like if you were still together.

“Thank you.” He smiled at you before pausing.

He then asked cautiously, “And you have a 6 year old daughter? When did that happen? I never saw you with another guy…”

You didn’t speak for a few moments. “Alex, put the timeline together.” You crossed your arms nervously.

Alex thought for a few seconds before he figured it out.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He looked hurt.

“We didn’t exactly end on the best terms, Al. And you wanted to have the typical college experience and I get that. I really do.” You recalled his words.

“And I didn’t want to burden you by telling you I’m pregnant with your baby.” You said bluntly.