#so loud that you you almost feel it escape you

[mrsimpurity]

promiscuous - l. howlett

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: smut (mdni), kinda mean!logan, reader is wearing a thong, p in v, riding, male masturbation, literally the smallest hint of a degradation kink

a/n: based on this ask!

“where the fuck have you been?”

those are the first words you hear the second you walk through the door and a smirk plasters on your face.

mission accomplished.

busy with x-men missions and personal affairs, this last week logan had blatantly ignored you and your desires with all sorts of excuses - “not right now, doll.”, “charles is waiting, baby, i gotta go.” hell, you’d started to think he was having erectile dysfunction.

so, to spite him, you did what every other woman on this planet would have done - come home disturbingly late and see what his reaction is.

“at the bar with my friends… girlfriends.” you say sheepishly. it wasn’t a lie of course. that truly is what you had been doing - having fun with girlfriends at a bar. nothing out of the extraordinary, your clothes weren’t even that fancy - casual low rise jeans and a baby tee. 

well, your tits and ass were definitely covered and that was good enough, at least.

you turn to lock the door and bend down to get your foot out of your boot when you hear logan behind you.

“with your thong out? or was one of your girlfriends in a hurry when fucking you in the car.” he barks.

you try your best to bite back the loud laughter threatening to escape your throat. frankly speaking, you knew your thong was peeking out and were putting on a show just to spite him even more.

“oh, this?” you ask, grabbing the flimsy string that’s peeking out of your jeans and pulling it just to snap it against your skin in dramatic effect.

suddenly, logan’s hands are on your waist and before you realize it, he throws you over his shoulder, your feet dangling in the air as you cheekily smile behind him. he’s fuming, hand placed on your ass in a firm grip as he walks towards your bedroom and throws you on the bed. 

he grabs the waistband of your jeans and roughly pulls them down. next go your t-shirt and bra.

“i’ll teach you a lesson.” the threat entices you more than you’d like to admit, and you find yourself getting wetter at the thought of logan throwing you around and punishing you. he settles behind you on the bed, dragging you in his lap by your armpits.

logan pulls at your thong, making the string rub between your folds and tease at your clit, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine. you attempt to wiggle your hips to get more friction, but logan stops you in your tracks as he tugs harder. it hurts deliciously and you can’t help but let out a breathless moan.

“such a slut.” he groans behind you, grabbing a hold of your chin roughly.

“logan.” you whimper helplessly, devoting yourself to him in this very moment.

“don’t moan my name, doll. it won’t get you out of trouble.” he says, lying through his teeth. truth is, he’s unbelievably hard and can’t handle you speaking to him like that before he’s had a proper fill and taught you a lesson.

“come on. take it off.” he orders. 

you oblige, quickly getting rid of your thong and awaiting your next command.

logan studies you, standing in front of him in your purest form, and for a moment you can almost see the utterly obscene thought flash through his mind.

he beckons you with two fingers and you follow, kneeling on the bed again. logan rests his head against the headboard and watches you crawl to him like a lost puppy. he gets rid of his boxer briefs in a torturously slow manner.

“spit.” is what he says next, tone rough and unforgiving.

you hover over his lap, letting a globe of spit fall down and watching it slowly reach the tip of his cock. he smears the saliva and starts out with slow pumps from base to tip. 

you watch, utterly confused as you reach to replace his hand with yours.

“no.” he barks.

you retract your hand in shame, watching him rub his thumb across the sensitive head of his cock. logan doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs at every single grunt of his, practically drooling as you watch him please himself.

logan hisses, head falling back against the headboard as images of you run through his mind, his hand pumping his cock vigorously.

you can see him getting closer and closer to his release, eyes shutting closed from the pain the teetering on the edge brings him. his pumps get faster and faster as he finally comes with a low guttural sound.

logan’s cum shoots out in thick ropes and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing at the sight of his seed leaking out of his pretty tip and landing on his thighs.

“clean me up.” his harsh words take you out of your trance.

you hesitantly lean into his lap, unsure of what to do. you place a teasing kiss on the tip of his cock and he hisses through clenched teeth.

“i said clean me up. don’t tease.”

you put your tongue out and lick a long stripe from base to tip while looking at him through eyelashes. he looks unfazed, gritting his teeth to stifle his groans under your warm breath. 

you put his cock in your mouth and lap up the remnants of his release, careful not to moan around his length.

your tongue runs over his thighs as well, licking the mess he made in his lap.

when you’re all done, you lean in for a kiss, licking the remnants of his cum on your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. just as your lips are mere millimeters away from his, logan’s hand grabs your jaw abruptly

and you freeze in place. 

“lo, please. jus’ wanna kiss you.” you say, desperate for contact. the throbbing of your pussy can’t be ignored anymore. 

“no. you can’t kiss me with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you pout at his mean remark, batting your eyelashes up at him. he stares back at you like he’s totally done with your dirty tricks and his hand reaches behind you to give you a gentle, but urgent slap to the ass.

“come on. you wanna please me don’t you?” he asks, pitying you. finally, you’re given a chance for a reprieve.

you straddle logan, grabbing the base of his cock as you hover over his lap hesitantly. his eyes soften at the sight of you preparing for the sheer size of his cock.

logan grabs your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down on his girth, every inch of him filling your greedy pussy. you let out a moan at the stretch and give yourself a few seconds to adjust.

logan’s small gestures are in sharp contrast with his words and behavior as his hand carefully puts the stray strands of your hair behind your ears. he watches your expression, eyebrows scrunched in pleasure and hands balled into fists at the delicious stretch of his length, and he begins wondering how he got so lucky.

with soft breaths, you begin riding logan, hands propped against his chest. your pussy is eager, sucking him in as you bounce up and down his length slowly.

you close your eyes for a moment before logan’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“look at me.” he commands and you oblige, getting lost in his strict, but oh so beautiful eyes as his scrutinizing gaze makes you pick up the pace. you can’t help but moan around logan’s cock, the position you’re in allowing him to reach impossibly deep inside you and rub against your gummy spot.

logan’s tone is harsh but it makes you clench around his girth. he doesn’t budge, watching you pant, breathless, face red and eyebrows scrunched in pleasurable strain.

the only sounds filling the room are those of your wet pussy taking logan’s cock deeper and deeper.

“logan, please.” you whine out, hips tired as you ride, chasing your release. 

he gives in to your helpless demand and places his hands on your hips again, his grip strong and controlling - everything you need right now.

without proper warning, he starts fucking up into you, pace relentless as your tight hole squeezes him like a vise. 

your moans are incoherent, a mix of his name, futile curses and weak “i need you”s.

“come on, doll. i know you’re close.” logan grunts under you, watching you play with your tits as he fucks your tight cunt, his anger still apparent. you can feel the delicious pain of the knot in your tummy that’s about to snap.

“jus’ hold onto me, baby.” you barely register his words, already on cloud nine before his thumb rubs your puffy clit, the action eliciting a loud moan from you as you cum around logan’s cock, your pussy greedily clenching and squeezing him. 

“fuck, lo. please.” you cry out, unaware of what you’re even begging for. all you know is that you need him close, even closer, you need him consuming you.

“that’s it. ride it out. ‘m right here, baby.” logan reassures as you barely hold yourself upright, hands grabbing his shoulders for support as his cock abuses your sensitive hole. he’s chasing his own release, needing to fill you up, to mark you, to feel your warmth embrace him.

“inside. inside, please, logan. i need you.” you murmur desperately, lost in a world where the only thing you can feel is pure pleasure.

his thrusts get even deeper and faster, your words egging him on. with a grunt, he releases his seed inside you. his warm cum fills your hole and you collapse on his chest, logan’s arms wrapping around your torso as the two of you feel the cum trickle down his length. 

you shift in his lap and feel logan’s hard cock twitch, still inside you, but your tired body chooses to ignore it as you pant in his embrace, catching your breath.

logan’s hands are roaming all over your body, massaging, kneading and rubbing soothing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into the crown of your head.

“logan.” you meekly speak, lifting your head to look into his eyes.

“what is it?”

“i’m sorry about earlier. it was stupid.” you say, referring to the whole “let’s spite logan and let him fuck you into oblivion!” stunt.

logan chuckles at your shy apology.

“are you kidding? you looked fucking hot, baby. i just got angry thinking about those slimy motherfuckers at the bar staring at what’s mine.” he says, accentuating his words as he grabs the globes of your ass, squeezing lovingly.

you giggle against his mouth, placing a soft kiss on his lips. his hand grabs your nape and he takes over, tongue entering your mouth in a delicious kiss which makes you moan softly.

you shift in logan’s lap again and are reminded of something. 

you slowly pull away from the kiss, raising a brow as the corners of your mouth lift up in a small smile at logan’s voice.

“maybe i’m still a little mad. you wanna take care of that, doll?”

[keeksandgigz]

18+ smut ahead !!!

older!coworker!eddie

this is kinda gross-ish if u don’t like it don’t interact <333

It’s disgusting, really, the way he has you bent over the dirty sink in the staff bathroom, sending you on your break so he could finally get his fill of you, so cruelly denied to him. You like to tease him with the idea of letting him have you, often bartering an earlier dismissal or a later shift on the schedule in exchange for your soft lips wrapped around him.

God knows how many times he’s scheduled you to close alone with him, turning off the cameras in the stores just so that he could get a taste of you, hanging on to the creaky shelves of the store for dear life as tears weep down your thighs and onto his face, where he’s stuffed his face down your dress, fingers bruising into your hips.

This time isn’t any different, really. “Can't believe you let me do this to you.” He pants over your bare back, feeling the plush of his lips trace your spine “M gonna take care of you, sweet girl, don't you worry.”

You respond with a whine, as his hand creeps around your face to cup at your mouth. He molds you and moves you as he pleases, and you let him. Even when his thrusts get a bit violent and your eyes seem to find a better home behind your head, a sharp smack to your ass brings you back down to earth, trying to squirm away from the never- changing overwhelm of pleasure.

“Don’t run from me” he singsongs in between grunts, his grip at the crease of your hips, letting the fat there hug his fingers, as you feel his nails dig into your skin, his rings pinching at you “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he continues, removing his hand from your mouth for a split second, to hear a pornographic mhm! escape the fullness of your lips, bitten raw from Eddie’s ministrations a moment before, as he picked you up and sat you down on the sink.

“One of these days” he begins, his smoker’s lungs not allowing him much reprieve between his rough thrusts into you and his ragged breath. “One of these days, I’ll take you out, huh pretty girl? After work, jus’ me and you. Take you on a nice date, bring you home” a sharper thrust comes after that, your head becomes smushed against the mirror, your ragged breath fogging up the glass.

“Fuck you on a real bed, would you like that? I’d be so good to you baby” he almost pleads, as if he was a dumb teenager trying to convince you to run away with him. His tone is pouty, condescending. He knows that he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he asked, and the thought of it makes you weak in the knees.

You know he only has a few thrusts left, with only five minutes of your break remaining. The loud schlick sounds fill up the dingy, neon- lit bathroom, your ears ring as strings of fuck, you’re so tight and your muffled cries against his hand accompany Eddie’s impeding release. Not for you, not when you’ll be closing with him in a couple hours.

He spills himself into you, biting on your shoulder to muffle the loud grunt that escapes him. He quickly tucks himself back into his black trousers, pulling up your panties with a wicked grin.

“I’ll see you at closing time, sweet girl”

_

lmao idk what this was (i think i’m ovulating)

(pssst @littlexdeaths this is for u)

[nr1chaedickrider]

keep it a secret ; keep quiet.

happy nayeon day!

you never thought this could happen.

if it's because of the age difference, or that it’s just wrong - but those are the things that turn you both on even more.

nayeon is 5 years older than you, which makes your friends question why she's doing it.

but you,

you simply just don't care.

and at this point, your mind is clouded, and you're not able to think about anything else.

not able to think about anything else but her.

"keep quiet, pretty girl" she coos, fingers playing with your clit, the other hand unbuttons your white shirt.

"they're gonna hear you if you continue being this loud" she whispers in your ear, looking at your flushed face.

you nod, biting your lip as you lean your head against the cold wall.

she rolls her thumb over your erected nipple, toying with it like it's her favorite thing to do.

"you got this needy from seeing that picture of me?" she teases, fingers dipping into your hole, you bite your lip harder in response, trying to muffle your moans.

"so desperate to feel good just from my picture" she adds, chuckling a little, her fingers move fast while you hold onto her, a whine escaping your mouth.

"why would you send me such a picture in public.. fuck-" you moan, looking at her as you gasp for air, your hip moving against her fingers, almost riding her.

"i couldn't help it baby"

"but just imagine what you could do to me, hm?" she starts saying, her fingers continue fucking into you, her thumb rubbing your clit.

"imagine yourself behind me, making me feel so good" she says, you clench around her fingers when you start to think about that picture again.

the way you were able to see her side boob, the way her curves are so defined and pretty, how her ass looks like it just needs to be fondled.

oh, how bad you wish you could fuck her into the mattress right now.

"fuck- let me cum please im close- nayeon-" you whine, lip bleeding a little from the pressure you put onto it.

"you wanna cum, pretty girl?" she asks.

you nod desperately, gripping her shoulder.

"cum for me y/n" she says, hitting just the right spots inside of you.

it doesn't take you a long time till you cum all over her, with a loud moan, one that makes you hope no one decided to go to the bathroom in this exact moment.

nayeon pulls her fingers out of you, licking them clean, you watch her like it's a movie and your favorite scene is playing.

"let's go back to the others hm?" she chuckles, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

"they won't know what we did, baby"

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Cw: threats to reader with a knife.

You're out for a walk in the woods, when you come across Alastor of all people, walking along, your eyes widen as he spots you at the exact moment you spot the bloody knife in his hand.

Startled, you step back and look around nervously before focusing on Alastor once more in horror.

You: "A-Alastor? W-What are you doing here?"

You try to keep your voice steady, innocent, heart pounding in your chest.

Alastor: "Why I just wanted some peace and quiet, my Dear, a nice calming walk, just as I'm sure was your purpose for being out at such an hour, hmm?"

Internally he berates himself, he had been courting you gradually and now this?! How... Sloppy.

Your eyes dart to the knife in his hand, fear creeping into your eyes, to Alastor's dismay but also advantage.

You: "W-Why do you have that?"

His smile grew wider as he saw the fear in your eyes.

Alastor: "Oh, this? Just something I carry around for protection."

He chuckles lightly, taking half a step closer to you.

Alastor: "But I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you here. It's quite a surprise, a pleasant one."

Alastor lies, trying to stop you from running, trying to charm his way into relaxing you.

Alastor: "I hope you don't mind if I join you, after all it'll be more safe and fun that way don't you think?"

Alastor's tone is filled with amusement. You feel nothing but terror in his presence right now, a hard contrast to the affable charming man you always felt at ease around before... Maybe even loved.

You take another step back, feeling uneasy about his proximity and the knife.

You: "I-I don't know, Alastor. I-I think I prefer being alone right now."

You swallow hard, trying to hide your anxiety. Despite your efforts to sound confident, your voice trembles slightly, betraying your fear.

You: "P-Please, just leave me alone."

You plead, breaking the pretense and hoping he would listen. Alastor tilted his head to the side, studying you intently, how interesting, you were certainly different than the others... Perhaps he wouldn't kill you... Yet.

Alastor: "Ah, but where's the fun in that?"

He took another step toward you, closing the distance between you two further, to your utter panic.

Alastor: "Besides, I don't think I can let such a rare opportunity slip away. A chance encounter with such a lovely morsel, in the middle of the woods, it's almost too perfect."

Alastor's voice is dripping with sarcasm, knowing exactly how to panic cornered prey into making mistakes.

You feel a chill run down your spine as Alastor steps even closer, your heart beating faster with every passing moment.

You: "P-Please, Alastor. I-I don't want any trouble."

You beg, taking another step back. Your foot hits a tree root, causing you to lose your balance and fall backward onto the damp ground

You: "Ahh!"

Landing on your back with a loud thud. As you fell, Alastor couldn't help but laugh at the sight. You really were making this too easy.

Alastor: "Oh, how clumsy of you."

He walked over to you, laugh echoing in the isolated area, bouncing off trees, no-one would ever find your body here.

Soon Alastor is standing above you knife glinting in the moonlight, you're frozen in fear, heart pounding in your chest, you try to scream for help but not a sound escapes, you're trapped in your own body, paralysed by your own pathetic weakness.

Alastor: "Now, what? Right! I believe I was about to join you."

Alastor smirked, lowering himself to sit on top of you, pinning you to the ground, almost like taking a seat for tea, before leaning over you, knife edge finding its way against your throat as tears well in your eyes.

Alastor: "Don't worry, I won't hurt you too much."

Alastor whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, he even has the audacity to nip at the flesh there, reveling in the shiver that wracks your already shaking form.

Alastor's firm body presses to yours, so warm as you feel frozen, such a parody of how things used to be. You even whimper slightly at the sight of his dilated eyes and the bulge you were sure you felt twitch against your hip.

Alastor: "Now where was I? Ah yes... Threatening you."

[eatingoutmen]

The thought of Sergio Marquina getting his pussy eating out by you while his legs were wrapped around your head, his fingers tangled your hair while he moaned and whimpered uncontrollably at the feeling of your tongue swirling around and tasting his cunt; his loud and unrestrained noises were like something you’d hear from a porn video as his body quivered with a potent mix of pleasure and anticipation while his thighs locked your head in place, nearly almost crushing you.

“Mmmnnhh… fuckkk… that’s it, mi amor. Just like that…” Sergio gasped out between whimpers, his hips desperately rocking into your mouth, feeling in your tongue tasting him. He let out a loud, unbridled moan escape from his lips as he felt his orgasm quickly approaching. His hands moved around your body as his nails scratched your back all the way to your shoulders lightly, causing you to let out a groan at the pain from the stinging sensation; but you couldn’t care about that because you were too busy focusing on pleasuring him with determination and obedience.

Sergio’s thighs were trembling as he arched his back further off the bed, his fingers moved back to tangle your hair again as his moans and whimpers grew louder and more desperate; chasing his release as he felt your tongue on his walls. His breath getting caught on his throat as he came, he let out a breathless moan as he rode his high as he gushed into your mouth; his thighs quickly unlocked your head, while adjusting himself so he could get a better look at you. He stared down at you with half-lidded eyes as he took in the sight of your cocky smirk plastered on your lips, he shivered in pleasure seeing your lips smudge with his cum as you remained between his legs.

His mind began to automatically predict that he was in for a long night with you and wasn’t complaining at all, not even a little bit.

[itneverendshere]

shy!sweetheart!reader being secretly a metalhead (enjoying bands like falling in reverse and bad omens). rafe finding out like 🤨

this was ridiculously cute to write😌 and i felt like it feet pogue!bartender!reader's universe 100% so i did it.....if it wasn't want you wanted IM SORRY but it's canon in my head and my fingers worked really fast to write this down lmao. thank you for the request!!🩵🫂

you're in the walls that i made - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It had been a long day, and all you wanted to do was get home, toss on your favorite oversized hoodie, and dive into a YouTube rabbit hole of random videos on your phone.

Rafe, of course, was your ride—like usual. He’d somehow appointed himself as your unofficial chauffeur after shifts, and you weren’t exactly complaining. You were saving up for a car, and you were almost there, only a few more weeks and you’d have your baby.

But it was nice to have a reliable ride, even if it came with his very questionable music taste.

"Alright, let's go," Rafe said, pulling up in his shiny black truck as you slid into the passenger seat.

The smell of leather and cologne hit you immediately, as did the unmistakable thumping bass of whatever rap song he had blasting. The lyrics were, as usual, about women, money, and something about getting high on a yacht. You made a face without even realizing it—like you did every time.

"What's that look for?" Rafe smirked, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the parking lot.

You shrugged, hoping he’d let it slide. "Nothing. Just... nothing."

Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to let anything slide. "Nah, you do that every time I play my music.”

You bit your lip, wondering if he thought you were a snob now. “What? No I don’t.”

He shot you a side-eye, his smirk widening as he pressed a little harder on the gas. "You got somethin' better on your playlist?"

It wasn’t like you were embarrassed. You just didn’t think Rafe, with his expensive taste and rich boy vibes, would get it. But before you could answer, the radio cut in between songs with an ad, and you almost jumped in your seat.

“On September 6th, for one night only, Bad Omens will be performing live at the Greyhall venue on the mainland! Get your tickets now before they sell out!”

Your heart raced. Bad Omens. They were one of your favorite bands, and they were going to be right there—just a ferry ride away. You stared at the radio, gripping the sides of the seat like you were about to take off.

"Wait, what?" You said under your breath, but loud enough that Rafe noticed.

He furrowed his brow, glancing between you and the road. "You okay? What's up?"

You bit your lip, feeling the excitement rising inside you and knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t afford concert tickets, let alone the ferry and everything else that came with it. But still, you couldn’t help the tiny squeak of frustration that escaped.

"It’s nothing. Just…one of my favorite bands is playing."

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. "Favorite bands?" His voice lilted with surprise. "You never told me you had a favorite band. Wait—what band?"

You fidgeted in your seat, the seatbelt suddenly feeling too tight. "Bad Omens."

He blinked. "Who?"

Of course. You sighed. "They're a metalcore band. Like heavy, but not just noise. They actually sing. And scream. It’s complicated."

Rafe's expression was priceless—like you just told him you were secretly a wizard or something.

"Metalcore?" He repeated, testing the word,"Wait, hold up. You’re telling me you like that screamo stuff?"

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You? The girl who got him by the balls since he laid his eyes on you? The quiet, sweet, always-put-together girl he drove home after work, into metalcore? It was like you just told him you had a secret double life.

You shrugged, feeling yourself blush a little. "It’s not just screamo. There's a lot more to it. It's deep."

“Screamo stuff,” he repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. His eyes moved from the road back to you, still processing. You were full of surprises, and every time he learned something new about you, it knocked him off his feet. He wasn’t used to it. Most girls he’d been with were pretty predictable—into the same stuff, liked the same fancy dinners, designer bags, the whole kook lifestyle. And then there was you.

You still sounded a little defensive, your fingers messing with the hem of your shirt. “I swear, there’s actual singing and meaning behind the lyrics.”

Rafe leaned back in his seat, still smirking, but he wasn’t laughing at you. He was actually impressed. You really didn’t care what anyone thought, did you? He couldn’t even pretend to understand the music, but it wasn’t just that—it was everything about you that threw him off in the best way.

"So that’s why you’re always making faces at my music? ‘Cause it’s not—what, hardcore enough for you?"

You couldn’t help but giggle. "I mean yeah, kinda." You glanced over at him, like you were waiting for him to crack a joke or say something stupid, but all he could do was stare at you like you’d just become ten times more interesting. “What, I don’t look like someone who’d enjoy heavy music?”

He laughed, shaking his head.  “I would've never guessed. You’re always so quiet. Sweet. I thought you’d be into, I don’t know, something soft and cute. You look like you’d be into Taylor Swift, not dudes screaming about whatever it is they scream about.”

You let out a small laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He loved that laugh. “Well, I do like Taylor Swift. But, you know, metal is just...it hits different.”

Rafe’s face went from shock to something else, like he was putting pieces together in his head. "Wait, that explains so much. Every time I put on something with a chill beat, you look like you’re dying inside."

"I just have different taste," you admitted.

"Damn, never thought I’d see the day," he muttered, more to himself. “So, this band of yours—Bad Omens—where they playing?"

"Greyhall in September,” you said quietly. "But it’s fine. I can’t afford to go."

He frowned. "The hell you can’t. Just get the tickets."

You blinked at him. "I can’t, Rafe. They’re probably expensive, and I’ve got rent and bills. Y’know, real life stuff?"

He furrowed his brow, like the concept of not being able to afford something was completely foreign to him. “It’s just tickets. How much could they be?”

"Probably more than I make in a week. Plus the ferry, the drinks, food—it's not that simple."

He glanced at you, like he was doing the math in his head. The guy lived in a world where nothing was “that simple” because everything was already done for him. He didn’t have to think about rent or ferry costs or budgeting for groceries. That wasn’t Rafe’s reality, and for a second, you could see it in his eyes—he forgot that your world wasn’t his.

"Alright," he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal, "I’ll get them."

"What?"

"I’ll get the tickets," he repeated, more casual this time, like it was the easiest solution in the world. "You wanna see them, right? So I’ll buy the tickets."

Your mouth fell open. "Rafe, no. You can’t just—"

He looked at you like you’d just said something offensive. "I can.”

"No, you’re not buying me concert tickets. That’s ridiculous."

He rolled his eyes, acting like it was no big deal. “I’ve spent more on dumber shit. Consider it an early birthday gift. Or whatever."

“Do you even know when my birthday is?”

He didn’t even miss a beat, "October 8th” he said, his voice so smooth and confident that it caught you off guard.

Your jaw dropped a little, and you stared at him. "Wait—how do you know that?"

He shrugged casually, but he was proud of himself. "What, you think I don’t pay attention to you?”

When it came to you, he was locked in. Every detail, every little thing you mentioned, he was soaking it up. He knew. Out of all the random things, that’s what he remembered. You never told him outright; maybe it came up once in a passing conversation, weeks ago, buried under a million other details about work or life or whatever. And yet, here he was, dropping the exact date like it was nothing. You tried to play it cool, but inside, your brain was short-circuiting. Rafe Cameron knows my birthday. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, that smirk still glued to his face. He was being way too natural about the whole thing.

“Okay,” You snapped out of it, “You’re not buying me tickets, Rafe,” you warned him, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “Seriously, I can’t let you do that.”

He barely glanced at you, too busy making a smooth turn, “You act like I just offered to buy you a house. It’s a couple of tickets, not that big of a deal.”

“To you!” You huffed, leaning back in the seat. “It’s a big deal to me. I’m not just gonna let you drop money like that. For what? For a concert that you’re not even going to?”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, which only fueled your frustration. He thought this was funny.

“It’s just tickets,” he repeated, like that was going to wear you down. “Look, if it bothers you that much, you can pay me back. And I can go with you”

You felt your heart do this weird little somersault, like it didn’t know whether to panic or be excited.

What the hell was he talking about.

Rafe Cameron, Mr. Country Club, wanted to go to a metalcore concert with you?

Your head was spinning. He doesn't even know the band, you thought, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with you. But judging by the way he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he wasn’t joking.

“You’re gonna come with me to a Bad Omens concert?” Your voice came out more skeptical than you intended, but could he blame you. The thought of Rafe at a concert full of screaming fans and heavy breakdowns was honestly hilarious.

He shrugged, eyes still on the road, totally unfazed. “Yeah, why not? Could be fun.”

Fun? FUN? You were genuinely struggling to picture him, in his usual attire, khaki shorts and a Ralph Lauren polo, at a venue packed with sweaty metalheads. You almost wanted to laugh, but then again, he was doing this for you. He was willing to put up with a night of music he definitely didn’t like, just so you could see one of your favorite bands. That meant something.

You scoffed. “How would I pay you back anyway? With what? My tips from bartending at the country club? Gonna take me six months to pay off Bad Omens tickets.”

He glanced over, eyebrow raised, like he was sizing you up. “You’re seriously gonna pass up the chance to see one of your favorite bands because you’re too proud to let me help?”

You bit your lip, torn between how much you wanted to see them live and how uncomfortable it felt to accept help from someone like Rafe. He was used to throwing money around—his daddy’s money, no less—and you... well, you weren’t like that. You’d grown up on the other side of the island, working your ass off to afford anything. 

The idea of someone just buying something for you? It made you feel weird. Like a sell-out.

“It’s not about a couple bucks. It’s about you doing this because you feel like you have to or something.”

His jaw tightened just slightly, and he shook his head like you were missing the point completely. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything. I want to do this. There’s a difference.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not letting him off the hook just yet. “Why? Why do you want to do this so bad?”

There it was. That look again. He hesitated, like he was deciding whether to be fully honest or not, then leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, trying to play it cool.

“Because,” he started, his voice casual but his eyes were giving him away. “This is what friends do. They look out for each other. I’m not letting you miss something you clearly want.”

Saying the word made his chest hurt just a little. Friends. Right. But he didn’t let it show. He wasn’t exactly the relationship type, and everyone knew it. You probably knew it, but when it came to you things were different. And maybe the idea of spending time with you at that concert—just the two of you, no work, no distractions—sounded like a dream. How could he say that without looking like an idiot? Or worse, like a an asshole trying to buy his way into your life.

“Rafe, be serious,” you sighed. “I don’t like feeling like I owe someone.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” he said quickly, a little sharper this time. He seemed almost offended. “Why do you keep acting like this is some big favor? I’m not holding it over your head or anythin’. I just want you to go to the concert and have a good time. Is that so hard to accept?”

You did want to go. Badly. But accepting help like this wasn’t your style, especially not from Rafe, who lived in a completely different world. And yet you could feel how much he genuinely wanted you to say yes.

 “I’m being realistic.”

Rafe snorted. “Realistic? You’re being stubborn as hell.”

“I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are,” he cut you off, pulling into a stop at the light and turning his whole body toward you. His eyes were locked on yours now, serious but still with that hint of playful annoyance. “Look, I get it. Fine. You want to go to the concert. I’m offering to make it happen. End of story.”

He was used to getting what he wanted, and, right now, what he wanted was for you to take these tickets.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

He hesitated for half a second. Then that smirk of his came back, though it felt different. “Because I like seeing you excited about something. You’ve been dragging your feet every time I see you, and now, you hear some band’s coming to town, and you light up like it’s Christmas. You think I’m gonna let you miss that over a couple bucks?”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He was always so sincere. And it threw you off completely. Rafe was a lot of things to a lot of people—cocky, reckless, arrogant—but he wasn’t usually thoughtful. Not to them. Not like this. You seemed to be the only one who saw the good in him.

But you still weren’t giving in. “Rafe... it’s just weird, okay? I don’t want it to be like you’re doing me a favor.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Fine. Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like— I’m investing in something I wanna see. You freaking out at this concert, screaming your head off, losing your voice for two days—that’s entertainment.”

 “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re difficult,” he shot back, eyes narrowing playfully. “But I’m not backing down, so you might as well just say thank you and take the tickets.”

“Or what?” you challenged, but your voice was softening.

“Or I’ll buy the tickets, show up at your door, and force you to go.”

You blinked. “You wouldn’t.”

He grinned. “Try me. C’mon,” he pushed, sensing you were caving. “You work your ass off at that club, always taking care of everyone else. For once, just let someone take care of you.”

Your breath hitched at that. He wasn’t just being cocky or trying to win an argument anymore. He meant it. You looked out the window, chewing on your lip. This was new, this was all so new to you it felt a little pathetic with how hard your heart was racing. There was a moment of silence, like you were both just waiting for the other to blink first.

Finally, you sighed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine! Fine. Buy the stupid tickets. But don’t think I’m not paying you back. I’ll find a way.”

He just laughed, clearly satisfied with his victory. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you, Rafe. You’re the best friend ever.’”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help smiling a little. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cameron.”

As the light turned green and he started driving again, you let out a long breath, not knowing why you were giving up so easily. There was this strange warmth in your chest, knowing he cared enough to go toe-to-toe with you over something as small as a concert.

“Hey, for the record,” Rafe said after a moment, glancing over at you. “I’d do it again. Just so you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What? Fight me over tickets?”

He grinned, looking back at the road. “Nah. Fight you over anything, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but you were beaming like an idiot now. You felt lighter. “Just don’t think this means I’m letting you pick the music on the way there.”

“Deal,” he said, laughing as he leaned back in his seat, clearly proud of himself. “But don’t get too used to it. Next time, it’s back to rap and yachts.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As he drove, you couldn’t help but peek over at him, catching the way his jawline tensed and relaxed, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel like he was still buzzing from the conversation.

And yeah, maybe you’d heard the rumors surrounding him, believed them a little before.

Now, you weren’t so sure.

All the while Rafe felt like he’d just won the lottery. You had no idea how hard he was falling for you, piece by piece. Every small detail about you made him fall harder, and it scared the hell out of him how much he cared. But he couldn’t stop now.

Truth was, he didn’t want to.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ REPUTATION ❜

YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader

WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON

HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀

m.list | hxh m.list

You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.

Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.

You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.

But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.

But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.

Not anymore.

"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."

He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.

"You want me, too."

Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.

"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.

"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "

There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.

"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.

How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.

"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."

His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.

"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."

Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.

"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."

He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.

"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."

His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.

Honestly, could you resist?

He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.

"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[fuckmysuguru]

Breaking the bed w; — Satoru Gojo !

18+ — drabble! smut, spit play, title! ♡.

Anya’s entries: I wrote this to celebrate I got 100 on my economics exam.

The large bed creaks under your combined weight, Satoru hovers above you, one hand holding your face, pushing it down against the pillow while the other grips the wooden headboard, his white teeth scrapping his lower lip. “That’s it, mama,” He pants, exhaling loudly. “Scream my name.”

Arching your back, your nails rake down his back, making him hiss, his pale skin decorated with red lines that won’t fade til next week. Satoru chuckles, squeezing your cheeks and twisting your neck so you meet his blue eyes. His large palm palms your cheek, a silent command. Hending his head slightly, he smiles as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, your pretty eyes rolling back as he spits directly into your mouth.

“Good girl,” He praises, letting go of your face to grip your waist. “You gonna ruin my sheets with this wet pussy.”

“Shut up!” You yelp, embarrassed yet incredibly turned on. It’s true though; the lewd squelch of your walls swallowing his cock bounce off the walls, almost straight out of a cheap porno.

Satoru doesn’t seem to care, if any, he fucks you harder, ramming into your slick depths with a new resolve— see how long can you take it. Ignoring the loud creaking of the bed, his fingers squeeze the wood harder, creating soft indents on the material. The headboard slams against the wall with every push of his hips, pillows falling and moans increasing.

“Lift your legs, baby,” He requests, nodding in approval as you hook your arms under your thighs and lift them, struggling to keep up with his relentless fucking. “That’s it, fuck— can’t you get enough of my cock? I just feel you getting wetter. Your pretty little pussy is so hungry for me, just like always—”

Suddenly, the bed gives up; the wooden base collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched scream escapes your lips, eyes widening with surprise— meanwhile Satoru bursts into laughter. He fucking broke the bed. Huffing, you slap his shoulder gently. “You are an idiot. We got this bed a week ago.”

Rolling his eyes, Satoru holds your knees, spreading your legs further and leaning down, his swollen lips brushing against your neck. “Stop complaining. I’ll buy another one, now… you need to make me cum, angel.”

[sweetestlamb]

I Wanna do Bad Things to You

Authors note: honestly I was losing interest a bit and the second couple still has me in a chokehold but today's episode ate devoured and licked the plate clean. I have a million things I need to do right now but I wrote this instead🤷🏾‍♀️💃🏾

None of his fantasies could have ever prepared him for the vision Seok-ryu makes breathing hard beneath him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kissing.

Thoughts about her aren't new to him. Dirty thoughts about her are not new either. He's been locking his door since he first realized that his feelings for her were different from his feelings for Mo-eum.

He never dreamed about holding her hand, or kissing her or undressing her.

No. Those bad thoughts were reserved for one person and now she's under him staring up at him like she's having very similar thoughts and his thoughts are multiplying by the minute.

"What are you thinking about?"

'Giving you a hickie.'

But he only says that to himself in the safety of his mind because saying that out loud terrifies him and makes his palms too moist.

"Choiseung." She demands his attention again, as if he's not already too fixated on her.

"I'd.... rather not say." He whispers instead, leaning down to hide his face in the curve of her neck before he even realizes his mistake.

She grumbles underneath him but he melts at her hand settling in his hair, her fingers running through the thick strands. Nobody's ever caressed him like this before. He has the fight the moan that wants to escape.

"You're already breaking your promise."

That gets his attention and he shifts away, pining her with her eyes.

"What? What do you mean? What did I do?" He wants to fix whatever it is immediately, he can't handle another argument with her his heart felt like it would burst.

She seems stunned by his seriousness before she collects herself, "You said you wouldn't hide anything from me again. I want to know what you're thinking, whatever is making you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're starving."

Her and these food analogies. But she's not wrong, he feels like he has been starving for years waiting, longing and wishing. Starved for her attention, her favour and her love.

"I'm hungry."

His eyes widen at the sudden announcement especially considering that they just ate, but maybe he can go outside and see if the store is still open and get her something to--

"Where are you going?" She huffs at him as he tries to detangle their limbs.

"You said that you're hun-

"Are you a virgin?"

He freezes and his brain short circuits before he can remind his lungs how to work and breathe again.

"Are you insane why would you ask me that?!"

"Woah. Look how red you got! Am I right? You're a virgin? Am I going to be your first?"

He stares at her slack mouthed before his competitiveness kicks in, she's always been the one to bring this petty immature side out of him.

Far too easily he grips both of her wrists in his hand and pins her hands to the bed over her head. She flails in his tight grip but he watches with fascination as her cheeks pinken and her eyes dilute.

Interesting.

"My first what? Are you offering Seok-ryu? Do you want it that badly?"

His nerves are still there but the desire to put her in her place overrides it momentarily.

But instead of arguing like she's supposed, like they've both been doing for years she zigs when he expects her to zag.

"What if I do? You're my boyfriend. Aren't I suppose to want you?" She stares back with open defiance, only she could make such a confession sound so aggressive.

"Seok-ryu..."

"I don't want to talk. Do I have to spell it out? I want you to -"

His lips slam into hers with a wet smack and he almost groans at how easily she opens up for him, kissing him back as if she's the one that's been pining for years. As if she wants him half as much as he wants her.

He jolts when her legs wrap around his waist, his hold on her wrists loosening for a moment.

When he can't resist the urge to grind into her heat he forces himself to pull away. They need to slow down this is...too much. Too fast.

"We should stop."

But that seems to be the last thing on her mind.

Instead she frees her hands and shoves them up his shirt, his stomach tightens at her touch and this time he isn't quick enough to swallow his reaction.

"Hey Seung-hyo when did you get abs? Is that why you think you can boss me around because you got some muscles?"

"You can't just touch me like that." She raises an eyebrow at his exclamation, challenge clear in her eyes.

"Oh. Why not? Aren't you my man? Can't I touch you just like this and even worst? If I can't touch you like this then who can?"

His jaw drops at her assertion and at the possessiveness in her tone.

He refuses to leave any room for a misunderstanding this time.

"Nobody. Only you."

She avoids eye contact but he doesn't miss the smirk on her lips and that twinkle in her eyes.

"But if you touch me like that then I'm going to get thoughts....I don't want to take advantage of you."

Her laughter is instant and he's tired of feeling like a fish out of water, she's his woman. He is allowed to act like it. He's done holding himself back.

So he retightens his grip on her hands and leans down to press a firm kiss to her neck. Then he waits and her reaction is immediate, her body bends to meet him giving him free range to explore.

Without hesitation he preseses another kiss opening his mouth to taste her and she moans in response.

"More."

That sends blood rushing through his entire body.

He kisses her again and again until she's twisting beneath him but he's too strong for her to break his hold, he shouldn't like that so much.

"I want to give you a hickie."

There. He's said it and if she says no that's fine this is still more than he ever hoped for, more than he deserves honestly. It's greedy of him to even want for more.

"Then do it."

And this time he hold on her completely loosens and she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him down again, pressing his face further into her neck with a quiet, "Mark me I want it."

He opens his mouth and sucks gently, teething at the thin skin there with the barest amount of pressure. He does it for a minute, lost in her scent and in her soft skin.

"Harder."

He hums into her neck in response, too enthralled to move away for even a second.

"You need to do it harder to leave a mark."

He ignores the tinge of jealousy that flares up at her obvious expertise, she's here with him now that's all that matters.

And he obeys her, open his mouth wider and sucking harder even biting at the last minute and he almost pulls away at her soft shout but she tightens her arms around him refusing to left him go.

"I'm fine you just surprised me. But I like it. I like everything you do to me. Don't stop."

He feels like he's drowning in his own pent up desires.

But he continues to suck and bite and lick at her skin before he realizes that his hips have been moving of their own accord, each gasp from her lips feels him leaving lightheaded and wound up too tight.

He needs to stop before it's too late.

The hickie is huge and red, he realizes that he might have overdone it especially with them trying to hide their relationship.

She's going to kill him.

"How is it? Are you proud of yourself?" She teases him and he can't deny that he loves seeing his mark on her, loves that she trusted him enough to let him do that.

"Who knew you were so possessive?"

He bristles at her taunting tone, "Like you're any better? What did you call me your ma-"

"Hey! Shut up, don't repeat the things I say in the heat of the moment that's embarrassing!"

And this time she pushes him away, and he lets her flopping onto her bed.

"I'm going to check out my hickie, see how much concealer I need to cover it."

And that has him bolting up in the bed, "Wait a second Seok-ryu!"

But he's too late and he watches her eyes flare with anger as she touches the large red mark on her neck in awed silence.

"It looks worst than it really is, it should fade by tomorrow I'm sure!" So similar to the words that she said to his crying six year old self and they both know how that turned out.

"I'm going to kill you!! What did you do to my beautiful neck? What are you a freaking vampire? I said mark me, not destroy my neck!"

And he jumps over the bed trying to get away from her and he can't help but laugh as she trips over her own feet trying to catch him.

[phamianaz]

destined

？▹ . ! college!hanni x biker!reader

？▹ . !! mention of abuse, violence, blood, vulgar language, angst, sensitive topic, fluff

？▹ . !!! you thought things would settle down for you, but you remember that life doesn't give a fuck about you at all.. maybe it does, just a little.

？▹ . !!!! i'm that type of author who just writes what she imagined and does not take the whole process of making the story flow good like most do cuz im just lazy 🦥 so just remember that this is just written without any proper process or whateves. ps. i feel like my endings r getting weird and like- i don't think it should be an ENDING??? like u get that feeling- idk. i talk too much 😔

m.list

"you're fucking unbelievable, y/n! don't you dare think that escaping me is a good way!"

your mother screamed furiously, running to you with a jar of milk to throw to your way as you ride your motor before revving loudly.

you scoff as the gate opens automatically for you the moment you pressed the green bottom just next to it.

"mom, cut the shit. you think screaming will solve everything? no, and this isn't gonna be solved soon if you keep screaming like a damn goat." you glared to her way, moving your motor forward before it was stopped by your mother, who desperately popped in front of you and trying to stop you.

you grimaced at the disgusting smell from her, "step out, mom! take a shower while i leave, will ya?! i'm not coming back anymore," you revved your motor again, trying to scare her with the loud sound.

it did scare her, yelling as she covers her ears with the jar of milk still in her hand.

"you asshole! fucking dickhead!" she curses you out, but it enters and leaves your ears as you finally leave the horrendous house.

as you ride away, you turn back to your mom at the distance and gave her a finger, ignoring her ear piercing screams and neverending cursing.

and you were out of that house, officially and never coming back ever again. arguments with your mother is turning horrible, violent and dangerous.

you honestly don't know why you, a 21 years old woman, are still living with your mother when you already have the capability to live independent.

but your mother apparently doesn't give a shit. claiming that she's your mother and you should be repaying her back for all the years she has taken care of you— you just did that.

you literally just paid everything for her. you gave her money, a house, a car, and a fucking land- isn't that enough to repay her? shouldn't she be glad that she has a house for herself?

you just couldn't believe her. she's acting so immature when you try to talk it out to her that you decided to live alone because you're all grown up and wanted a life for yourself.

but no, she decided to cry about it and yell at you for having the audacity to leave her alone just after having a wonderful job.

you can't believe the words that's leaving her mouth and honestly? you had enough.

did she forget the abuse and torture she caused? it left you scarred and traumatized to be even staying in the same house with her, but you bear with it because she's your damn mother.

but now, you're free, and thank the heaven, you were finally allowed to cry.

-

to take out your anger and stress, you cruised around until you got far far away from your mother.

stopping at every convenience store that you encountered, buying a drink and eat to ease your stress away, a cope to escape from reality until it turned midnight.

you checked the time, and it is almost 12 am, so you decided to just stay back at the 7-eleven store with a drink in your hand.

with your protection motor suit, you thought you'd be feeling sweaty and hot because of how thick it is, but thankfully, the night was a lot colder than usual.

you prefer a cold evening over a heat-stroking morning, and that's why you were feeling content right now as you took a sip of your drink.

after finishing your drink, you threw it into the trash can nearby and heads back to your yamaha motorcycle.

it was parked a bit far from the store, so you had to walk a little to get to your motorcycle. you didn't mind, since you enjoyed walking as much as you enjoy eating food and riding your big bike motorcycle.

it was a black yamaha r3— just a good one for you to use daily to work and back. you love it so much, and it became your baby basically.

too bad, you don't have a special someone who could be your company backpack to ride around, but..

you just don't mind at all. you love being alone most of the time, that's why.

as you had already sat on your bike comfortably to watch the countless stars spread out in the dark blue sky, the peace and warmth was finally engulfing you like a warm blanket.

no nagging and definitely no cursing towards you was heard.

you smiled, until you heard a short scream from a distance and your smile dropped to turn your head to where the sound came from.

coming from behind the store, you see a woman running frantically from a group of men who cursed and was holding a some sort of a weapon. a dangerous one at that, and there's five of them-

before you could process everything, the woman had already saw you and immediately rushed towards you, gripping onto your arm as she heaves unevenly and legs trembling badly. "p-please, help me!" she begs.

you could see tears in her eyes and the way her whole body trembling in terror and fear. you instantly stepped down from your motorcycle to cover the stranger from getting wacked by one of the gang's bat.

he harshly hit your head, though it was protected with your helmet, the impact was still stronger and you almost got stumbled onto the stranger before she caught you with a cry of worry. you grunt before raising your leg to kick the man and taking his bat as he falls to the ground with a curse with his gangs got furious.

"fuck.. you swing that bat real good, but i can crack your balls in just a second, boss." you glared through the tinted screen of your helmet, ignoring the pain on your head. the woman whimpered in terror behind you, gripping onto your clothes as she hides from the angry gang.

the larger man, who seem to be the leader, chuckle maliciously as he harshly pats his gang brother on his back, who was the one you just kicked earlier when he beats you with his bat. "you sound too feminine, so i'm assuming you're a woman,"

"yeah, no shit." you bit back, your grip around the bat handle tightened. the gang laughed mockingly at you, but you ignored it and slightly turned your head to the woman behind you, keeping your eyes on the men.

"call the police, i can't take them all by myself." you mumbled to her, voice loud enough just for her to hear. she quickly did as you told her, frantically taking out her phone and dials the police.

you turned back to the men, especially the leader.

"how about you leave us ladies alone, gentlemen?" you confidently said as you opened your screen to see them better, but they continued to laugh mockingly.

the bulky one beside the leader snorts, "sorry, beautiful lady- but we need that woman behind you. you see, she left something very bad to us.. and we were hurt, so we just wanted to teach her a lesson."

he gave you a disturbing smile, causing you to sigh tiredly, still hearing the stranger behind you mumbling to the phone. you take one step forward before you removed your helmet, revealing your bruised face that you got from your mother.

just purple bruise over your cheek and a swollen corner lip with a red cut.

"hey, what lesson are you shitting about? are you fucking kidding me, huh?" you cursed and gave your helmet to the stranger behind you before swinging your bat towards the leader who barely dodged your hit.

you hit his chin, causing him to wobble back and held his bleeding chin with a pained groan. his gang members suddenly turned aggressive and started running towards you, ready to teach you a lesson.

but all of the sudden, the sound of the siren was heard nearby and cops finally arrived.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE, MOTHER FUCKERS!" the gang, instead of rushing towards you, decided to run away from the cops, who cursed at them after what they had witnessed.

you and the stranger behind you stood there blankly, watching as the chase occurred. you wondered if they witnessed what you did to the man as well, but decided to let that go, as you instantly instructed the girl to wear your helmet.

confused, she obeyed and wore the helmet while you got on your bike before she followed suit. upon bringing up the stand and turning it on, you immediately dashed away out of the cops and gang's sight.

-

stopping in front of some random building, you pushed down the stand and the stranger behind you immediately scurries off the bike when she hears you gagging and heaving unevenly.

when she did, you followed suit with a little rush in your movement and instantly, bending to the side to vomit the contents from your stomach.

tears fell as the churning in your stomach was a bit painful for you to handle right now with all the stress.

"h-hey," she stutters, worried engulfed her as she helplessly watched you vomiting almost violently. she gently pats your back and carefully pulling your hair to hold them up from your way.

you continue to heave heavily, "fuck.. can't believe i puked my guts out again." you groaned in pain, holding onto your aching head. "mother fucker,"

she frowns, but does not pause patting your back. "you should lay down first." but you shake your head, "can't-" you heave, tears still falling and slowly, your knees begin to weaken.

eventually, you were sat on the ground by the woman and you leaned against the wall as you tiredly closed your eyes and rest.

then, after a little while, your eyes fluttered open as you were met with a blurred sight of a gentle, guilty smile and brown glassy eyes. you still felt tired and exhausted, just wanted to sleep the night away until the next two days.

"you shouldn't be resting here though... it's too dirty and there's a lot of people near us."

you hear her sigh, before hearing her taking out her phone from her purse. not knowing what she's doing, you just stared at her numbly and the headache continues to intensify and the nausea is clearly there.

"dammit.." she curses, biting on her lower lip in frustration when she couldn't find any available uber taxi from the app. she turns her phone off and sighs tiredly, then turns to look at you just to see you staring at her with a saddened eyes.

it broke her heart quite literally. tears began to well up, "i am so sorry for getting you involved.. i shouldn't come near you.." she sobbed, the guilt and remorse became unbearable for her to look at your pitiful, injured state.

but just one small shake from you caused her to look down on pure guilt. a sob escapes before releasing another one and another, until she turns into a crying mess.

"i'm so sorry," she wails, leaning her body against your chest as she continues to apologize to you.

and then, you embraced her. not as tightly nor loosen as she thought— it was just a perfect grip. your trembling hand strokes the back of her head, a gesture to calm her down but it only broke her further.

"... it's fine." a word of reassurance was enough for her to cry once again.

-

"... can you stop pacing around? you're making my head hurt even more." you deadpanned as you lay on her bed, resting and watching as she keeps walking around with a guilty look on her face and biting onto her nails.

she stops, "sorry-" there, you sigh again, holding your head and closes your eyes.

"stop apologizing every single time. it's not your fault," you reminded her a hundred times in just a night, feeling helpless with this girl who can't stop apologizing and feeling bad for what happened to you.

but you don't care about it anymore, she's safe now so what more is she worried about?

"... did the bleeding stop?" she asks quietly, taking a seat on her bed next to your laying form. your eyes were still closed, and you gave a small nod to her question.

you hear her releasing a small sigh, then silence. it took you or her a full minute before both of you accidentally spoke at the same time. you opened one eye.

"you go first." nonchalantly you said.

she hesitates before starting, her averted soft eyes were still full of guilt and worry, but comfort was also there. "my name is hanni," then she turns to you, making eye contact.

"hanni pham."

you hum, removing your hand from your head and dropping it on your stomach. "call me y/n, hanni." she nodded with a small smile, to which you wanted to return the gesture but you were bit numb to try it.

she seems to understand. "...i wanted to say i'm sorry again-" she hushed you quickly before you say anything, holding your gaze with determined and pleaded eyes. "just- let me say it. please."

and you let her, sigh in defeat. she smiles again, before it turns into a frown. "i'm sorry for what happened. i know you were confused and uncomfortable, but something just.. happened."

she pursed her lips, discomfort was visible from her body. you eyed her, patiently waiting for her to continue. her sigh came out shaky and nervous, you guessed. "it wasn't a good happening at all."

"i was trying to walk home from school, and it was pretty much a long walk for me." she continues, "and then i was walking past them and they started cat-calling me." you noticed a shudder from her shoulder.

something churned inside your stomach, and you don't like it. nonetheless, she continues with a deepened frown. "it continued like that for, i think, six minutes. i keep telling them to stop, yet they didn't—then i just.." she sighs once again.

"i guess i just snapped, and all hell loose."

and you understand her, completely and sincerely. men can be a dick and asshole, and sometimes, they couldn't take a no and immediately get aggressive like a damned dog out of nowhere. this is exactly why women aren't safe around them at all.

speaking from experience.

you nodded slowly, eyes softened in understanding. then, tears started to fall from her eyes. "i.. i was so scared. scared that they'll do something bad to me.. i-" she choked on her sob, clawing onto her head.

"it wasn't the first time happening to me but i was still scared—"

you stopped her there. your hands immediately gripping her hands and pull them away from her head, avoiding any injuries that she would cause on herself.

then, upon releasing her hands, you cupped her wet cheeks and held her gently, as if you were scared to be rough with her- and it made her sob more at this fact.

"hanni." you call her name, but you said it in a more comforting and soft way, not wanting to make her feel even more bad for what she couldn't control. your heart ached for her, and you truly know what she's going through.

"hanni..." you breathe shakily, ignoring the pounding on your head as you leaned your forehead against hers. you could smell her minty breath, and feel the sweat from her skin but you didn't care.

you held her close, "hey.. i know you're scared of what happened. i was scared too, for you. when i see you with those guys chasing after you..." your exhale quivered when released from your lips.

"...i just knew what they were thinking. so i just.. did what i have to do." your thumbs, trembling, rubs her cheek as tears continue to fall like waterfall.

her chest was hurting from the loud pounding from her heart, not expecting you to be this.. gentle and soft with her.

"...i know what you were feeling, and i don't want you to go through that again... it can't be avoided exactly, but i want you to be more careful than ever.. it's what we, women, have to do in this unfair world."

she notices the crack on your voice, and glances to see your tears falling as well. and she knows now— how much you understand her, how much you wanted to comfort her, and how much comfort you have truly provided her in this very moment.

her heart skipped a beat.

you made eye-contact with her. you looked even more vulnerable than earlier, and she let out a choke sob once again. "i.. i don't want to feel unsafe here."

you nodded, mumbling words of comfort. "i know, i know." she continues on and on, and you let her reach her limit, letting her cry onto your shoulder as she drops against you.

you held her tight, and she wholeheartedly accepts your warm embrace.

-

"...you left home? why?"

she looked genuine when she asked, and you hoped that she wouldn't make fun of your decision in life. you closed your eyes as you and her laid beside each other on her bed.

"mom is an addict and an abuser. she's crazy. she tries to gaslight me that she loves me very much, and then starts beating the shit out of me as if she's trying to take my lifespan away."

you chuckle nonchalantly, while she gasped in shock. her brows furrowed deeply, "that's... she's a real bitch, then." you turn your head to her as your eyes open, while she grumbles.

you laugh amusedly, nudging her arm with the back of your hand. "she is." your toes curled a bit as the cold breeze from the air conditioner became a bit colder, but you liked it anyways.

"i grew up without a dad ever since i could remember, and she's the only woman i've known in my entire life. i also admit i was being an asshole to some people back then," she snorts, causing you to smile sheepishly.

"but.. i managed to grow up properly, i guess. though, i do remember having a job at the age of 11 then paying my own tuition at school, while she does nothing at home."

she raises her eyebrows, "what job did you have?" she asks, turning to look into your eyes curiously. you gave a small smile and shrugged, "who knows? maybe just a little helper at a small store and whatsoever,"

she pouts at the answer, but lets it go since you probably didn't want to talk about it. "fucked up life for us then. i don't have a mom anymore, and only had my dad and sister."

you listened attentively, liking how pleasing her voice sounds to your ears. it was soft and clear. you listened to her own backstory, closing your eyes.

"we were a happy family, though it wasn't the same when my mom passed away." she sighs, "dad wasn't abusive though, and i'm grateful for that. but he became neglectful to us, and keeps leaving the house for no particular reason."

you grimaced at that, but you made no comment about it.

even so, she smiles. "but that was all. me and my sister weren't hurt and that's enough for me. i managed to get a part-time job too, to provide for myself and my sister— and now, we both are living together in this apartment."

you blinked, "oh. this apartment?" you sniffles, turning to your side to face her. "does that mean she's here too?" to which she responded with a shake of her head.

"nah, she's currently at her friend's house for a sleepover."

"ah.. okay." you bluntly said, causing her to laugh shortly. she turns to you as well, laying on her side and facing towards you. she smiles, and you smiled back.

"...do you believe in fate?"

you blinked naturally before nodding, "i guess i do. why'd you ask?" she continues to smile, fondly almost. "do you think this is a coincidence or a fate? a destiny that we've met?"

at this, you chuckle. "kinda random, i must say." she shrugged and waited for your reply. you hummed as you closed your eyes, "...i guess it is destiny, or.. a miracle for me?"

hanni could've sworn her heart skipped a large beat when you fluttered open your eyes and gave the softest, most damned adorable smile she ever witnessed. her ears reddened.

"o-oh.. why is it a miracle?"

she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burning at your gaze. your smile widens, so does her heart skipping a beat once more. this isn't good.. but it felt so right.

"it was a short encounter, but it felt like everything began to change." you mumbled, and snuggled closer to her bed sheets. "this wouldn't happen at all, if it weren't for a miracle to step in. and make me feel comforted."

you chuckle, "it's just weird. but, i guess i made a new friend today...?" at this, you turn to her and purse your lips. she blinks thrice, before giggling at your cuteness.

"glad you made a new friend, y/n. that friend of yours," she yawns softly, ".. must've been so lucky to meet you too." and the last thing she sees before darkness engulfed her is your warm eyes and smile and a small nod.

"...i'm lucky too."

[popodoki]

Ye ole NSFW Catwin ficlet x

Content under the read more, you know how it is

Beard burn, Edwin riding the Cat King's stubbled face

They'd never tried this before.  

Well, no, that isn't exactly true. Edwin has sat on the Cat King's face numerous times (his king loved to press all of Edwin's buttons, once discovered, teased and pried out of him, until all of his carefully cultivated control was virtually non-existent. There must’ve been something quite pleasurable about the whole affair to the Cat King as well, something about feeling Edwin's increasingly trembling thighs pressing in on the sides of his head, the squeezing against his face increasing exponentially, until Edwin was riding him properly, each rock of his hips pressing the back of the Cat King's head deeper into the pillow, the bed, the floor).  

Edwin had not, however, had occasion to sit on the Cat King's face, when sporting actual stubble.  

It's most certainly not because he didn't find the weathered look attractive. If you asked Edwin, it only accentuated the strong line of his lover’s jaw, whilst slimming down some of the sharpness that he'd never lost in his damned ever-charming smirks.  

Edwin had found himself staring at the Cat King's five o’clock shadow on more than one occasion, wondering what it would feel like, brushing up against his most intimate skin. Would he be left squirming the morning after, unable to sit properly without being reminded of their activities the night before? He wanted to experience that. Hells, he wanted it bad.  

Which brought them back to the present, where a very naked Edwin was preparing to straddle the Cat King's face.  

Although this is hardly the first time, all of the old fears come bubbling up to the surface the moment he peeks down, sees the over-eager face peering up at him from between his spread legs. The rational part of Edwin whispers to him, telling him he’s far from small, there's always the very real chance that he'll crush his lover underneath his weight. That at the absolute height of his pleasure, he'll slip up and, and... The Cat King, of course, would be more than happy to go out in a haze of orgasmic bliss, but— 

The second he feels the stubble gently graze against the softest part of his thighs as they gently hover down, down, down, Edwin’s control flies right out the window. It was already more sensation, more different of an experience than he’d expected, even brushing, downright tickling roughly against the smooth skin of his balls, as he settles down with a huff of air escaping him.  

Arms hook around Edwin thighs, maneuvre to pull him even closer, and Edwin’s eyes roll back in his head as his fingers clench into fistfuls around nothing.  

There’s a tongue darting out, licking a wet stripe along the length of Edwin's ass from right behind his balls to his hole. The sensation of hot, wet, thick muscle prodding against his tender skin is heightened, accentuated, by the slow drag of the Cat King’s downright furry cheek and jaw against his skin. It only serves to make Edwin press his hips down harder, until that hair, which had felt so deliciously short yet coarse underneath his fingertips, feels like it is scraping along his skin. No, scraping isn't exactly the right word. Scraping implies that there was some degree of pain, and the sensation building from between his shivering thighs... it isn't pain at all. There's a mild discomfort, building, but Edwin welcomes it with every roll of his hips. Coupled with the slick heat of that tongue, eagerly pushing in and out of his fluttering, clenching hole, it feels like every last one of his nerve-endings is singing. Any and all tension is washing out of him, in an almost orgasmic wave of pleasure... 

"H-Harder." He pants, and as always, the Cat King is all too happy to oblige him. Clawed fingers press into the meat of Edwin’s thighs, leaving the promise of bruising and red little lines for Edwin to trace later, in the silence. For now, he moans loud and unashamed as his lover makes sure to push and pull Edwin down harder against his cheeks, bobbing his head in ever exaggerated motions, to ensure maximum of contact between thigh and deliciously scraping stubble.  

Edwin’s nails dig into whatever purchase they can find on the Cat King’s skin, drawing thin lines to on the surface in kind. Whenever his marks stain red, twin moans are muffled with teeth finding bottom lips, or fangs sinking into the sensitive skin of Edwin’s taint. 

It was almost embarrassing, how fast the Cat King can bring Edwin right up to the edge. All that confidence, that arrogance that Edwin cannot fault his lover for having, with a track record to hold it up so, so easily. Conquered, Edwin is strung along, flung into two nearly back-to-back orgasms, before his partner begins to show signs of tiring. At the end of it all, Edwin's cock near aches, a bit of his come still glistening at the very tip of his cock, as his body convulses with the final aftershocks of pleasure.  

He shifts a little, hissing under his breath at the movement brushing stubble once more against by now truly irritated skin, but remains close, hovering above of the Cat King's face, as he takes a moment to steady his breathing.  

"Everything you expected, Ghostie?" The Cat King sounds breathless, a healthy flush framing his cheeks, with even more redness to the skin below his nose and ears. 

"Well," Edwin pretends to think it over as he finally rises, stretches, lets himself drop back down onto the bedding, next to his lover’s face this time, "I trust that you don't have any plans to shave anytime soon." 

[bluetoes-andstuff]

A Hidden Desire

Chapter 2 - Once Upon A Time

Summary: Once upon a time… you wish to be rescued. Your rescuer is not who you would expect, but he hears your plea and rushes to your aid.

Rating: T (Eventual NSFW)

Word Count: 4.4K

Relationship: Caesar x Fem!Human Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, implied sexual abuse

Previous Chapter

***If you are under 18 I would advise not reading, this is not an explicit chapter but this will be a story that explores nsfw themes later on. Best to just not go down the path to begin with. Be safe***

You wake up to the familiar, harsh reality of this dreadful camp after a long night of restless sleep. The tent you’ve recently started to call home is a tattered, makeshift structure, barely held together by willpower alone. In short… It was a mess. The fabric was worn and stained, letting in drafts of cold air with every slight breeze. The ground beneath you is hard and unforgiving, littered with pebbles and uneven clumps of dirt, and a thin blanket being your only comfort against the harsh chill.

Your pitiful collection of dirty, ripped clothes lie in a pile across the tent beside your other meager belongings. It didn’t amount to very much considering your camp’s habit of spontaneously uprooting, forcing you to leave behind whatever you couldn’t carry on foot.

The subtle aches of your body greet you as you slowly sit upright. You glance down towards your legs, covered in your baggy sleep pants, the gross memories from the day prior surfacing. You reach forward and wince as you slowly roll up your pant leg to expose the nasty gash bordered by a developing purple bruise. That was going to make it kind of difficult to get your chores done today.

You poke at the sore bruising. The entire area burned and you had a feeling it was going to be a difficult healing process. Your stomach spasms with a loud grumble, bringing to attention the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, and you push your face into your knees with a soft sob. Sometimes the reality of your situation just hits you all at once, and you can’t do anything more but cry, because what else can you do about it? You’re stuck here, and you’ve come to accept that now.

Your few personal items scattered about were almost like remnants of a life from a distant memory. A life you can only see through the eyes of childhood, reflected upon by a maturity brought on not only by age but circumstance. Abuse and misfortune is all you’ve known since the plague first took your parents six years ago. Even if you happen to escape this camp of abusers, you’re bound to stumble across another one eventually. It’s just how things worked now and you’ve come to accept it.

As you step outside, the camp comes to life around you. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and unwashed bodies, a smell you’ve sadly grown quite accustomed to. Everywhere, men are hollering and laughing, a general hum of conversation and jokes. You keep your head down to avoid any unwanted attention. You’ve resigned yourself to a life of torment, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try your best to avoid it at all costs.

Your first task of the day is to fetch water from the nearby stream. The bucket is heavy, and your arms tremble as you carry it back to the camp. Your injured leg adds a whole new level of difficulty, slowing the process to almost twice the time it’d usually take. No one takes care, or even notice, of your limp, or the constant grimace on your face. No one offers help, but you didn’t really expect them to.

As you pass by one of the larger tents, a man you’ve come to know as “Tommy” steps out. He frowns at you, and roves his eye up and down before scoffing.

“Don’t be so dramatic, kid. It ain’t that bad. Move faster.” His mouth actually upturns into a snarky grin and he laughs, but you know it wasn’t because it was a joke. You don’t say a word, because you know better than to argue. So instead, you nod quickly, pick up your pace and try your best to walk as normal as you can.

Back at your tent, you set the bucket down and begin cleaning the pile of boots piled up beside it. As you take a careful seat, another couple of men pass by and toss their boots into the large pile without even a simple word or glance at you. Your hands are raw and blistered, but you work diligently. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get out of their line of sight.

As you scrub the dirt from the boots, your mind drifts as it usually does during these mindless chores. You escape into your recurring fantasy world, surrounded by lush green meadows, and wildflowers dancing at your feet. The air is crisp, the sun warm against your skin.

In these moments, you felt a fleeting sense of peace and comfort, a stark contrast to your reality. These dreams were a sanctuary; your final cling to sanity. A place where you could escape from the harsh reality of the fear and pain dominating your life. You longed for someone to come and take you away, to offer you the love and protection you had never known. Something you were rarely able to even receive from your own parents.

The daydreams, although always slightly different, always revolve around a particular event; a savior, someone strong and kind, coming to rescue you from this nightmare. The thought brings a faint smile to your lips, a giddy excitement as your fantasies bring to life a futile hope. You know better than to cling to such dreams. In this world, hope is a dangerous thing, a fragile illusion that can shatter with the slightest touch.

Yet, despite everything, a small part of you refuses to let go. It’s the part that dreams of freedom, that believes in the possibility of a better life. You hold onto that hope, even though you know it’s fruitless. It’s what keeps you going, what gives you the strength to face another day because maybe, just maybe, if you hope hard enough, your dreams just might come true.

****

Caesar led his group through the dense forest, the sound of thumping hooves muffled by the thick underbrush. The horses moved with practiced silence, their riders alert and watchful with weapons ready. As they neared the human camp, Caesar raised his hand with a quick sign and the group quickly dismounted and scurried up the nearby trees in a practiced order, their movements fluid and silent to blend seamlessly with the shadows.

From their new vantage point, Caesar observed the camp below. It was a sight he’s seen many times before through the years when humans got brave enough to venture into his territory. The area was a stark contrast to the natural beauty surrounding it, a blot of harsh order amidst the chaos of the forest. Tents were being set up in a precise, almost militaristic fashion, each one identical and devoid of any personal touch, fabrics worn and stained from years of constant use.

A crude fence was already being erected around the perimeter, its jagged edges a clear statement on their intention of permanence. Caesar was quick to note the weak points —areas where the wood was hastily patched or still unfinished. These would be the entry points for his attack if it came to such drastic measures.

Inside, commands and varying conversation were barked out, and the occasional burst of cruel laughter echoed through the camp. Not one voice he heard was that of a kind man. These men were not just survivors, vying for peace and a desire to live; they were predators, hardened by years of conflict and driven by a relentless need to dominate. Caesar had become well accustomed to men like this through the years.

This was all he needed to know to proceed. This camp was a place where fear would soon rule, and any semblance of humanity had already begun to fade. They needed to prevent this camp from becoming a permanent blight on their forest, and if they didn’t act now, they would only become stronger.

He was just about to pass on his orders to Koba, but a sparkling “light”, so-to-speak, caught his eye.

A human woman—You. Enveloped in an innocence so rare to find amongst humanity. You moved with a grace that stood out amidst the harshness of your surroundings, your beauty a stark contrast to the brutality of the camp.

Your clothes were worn and ripped, not at all a compliment to the beauty you possessed. You deserved far better. Caesar pictured a blue dress, to compliment the vibrant color he’s sure you held in your eyes. A flowy material, soft to the touch, to tease and foreshore the softness and gentleness of the skin it hid beneath.

His chest tightened and his stomach began to burn and roll as he watched you. It had been a long time since he had seen a human woman, especially one as alluring as you. Your hair, though unkempt, shone in the dim light, and your eyes, even from a distance, held a depth of emotion that drew him in. A desire to speak to you, touch you, and hold the entirety of your attention.

You carried a heavy bucket, your steps unsteady, revealing a soft, yet pronounced limp, causing a strain in every movement. He noticed the dark bruising on your arms and the way you cower and flinch when a man shouts and laughs at you.

It angered him in a way he wasn’t familiar with. It was fervid and dangerous, as he didn’t know if this was an instinctive emotion he’d be able to contain. He knew in his mind that any rash move could endanger his group, but that burn drew a curtain between his mind and heart. They needed to act fast before his anger called on him to do something stupid.

Caesar turned towards Rocket and Koba perched on branches beside him. Rocket was still focused on the camp and the guards spread around the perimeter, mouth parted open as it usually was when in deep thought. Koba, however, wore a scowl as he looked down upon the camp.

“We need to be careful,” Rocket eventually signs, his hoots of caution low and urgent. “There are many of them.”

Koba grunted in agreement, but his eyes were hard. “Humans are dangerous,” he signs, his expression filled with disdain. “We need to act before they do.”

Caesar’s mind raced as he considered their options, the thoughts of you begging to pull his attention away. “We need a plan,” he grunts as he signs. “We can’t just charge in. We need to create a distraction, something to draw the men away from her.”

Without any thought to mask his true intention, Caesar reveals his thoughts as they are and his chest immediately convulses with a weird nervousness as he stares at his two friends, waiting for their reactions.

Both Koba and Rocket give him a weird look, before looking down at where Caesar pointed. Right there, on the outskirts of the camp is a young human woman, and both apes look back to Caesar who now seems to act as a young chimp caught in the midst of a bout of mischief: guilty.

“What do you mean, “her”?” Koba signs emphatically “what about her?”

“She cannot get hurt,” Caesar quickly defends. “She is innocent.”

“How?” Koba retaliates, “she is human.”

“No, she is victim of humans… just like us.” Caesar doesn’t plead; he never pleads. But at this moment, he needs the others to understand. You cannot get hurt… he can’t allow it. And they need to understand.

Rocket nodded thoughtfully, cutting Koba off before he pursued the argument. He trusts in whatever Caesar decides. “We could use the horses,” he suggested. “Send them running through the camp. It will cause chaos and give us a chance to get her out before we attack.”

Koba’s scowl deepened. “Why risk our lives for a human?” he asked, hissing with contempt. “They are not worth it.”

Caesar looked back at you as you scrubbed away at men’s boots, his resolve hardening. “No one deserves to suffer like this. We will help her.”

He wants to help, he tells himself. It is for you, not for him. He expects nothing to come of this. He will not touch you, he will not pursue what he’s been wanting. He will not be selfish.

Rocket grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “And while they’re distracted, we can take out the guards,” he added. “Quick and silent.”

Caesar nodded, ignoring Koba’s glare. “Good,” he said. “Rocket, you handle the distraction. Koba, you and I will take out the guards and get her. We move on my signal.”

The group nodded in agreement, though Koba’s reluctance was palpable. They moved into position, each ape taking their place in the plan. Caesar’s heart pounded with a mix of anger, determination, and maybe just a little bit of misplaced excitement. You deserved the world, he knew it, and he would make sure you got it.

Caesar watched as Rocket and a few others moved to enact the distraction, leaving him and Koba in position. His eyes returned to you and never left, your every movement drawing him in. He could feel Koba’s gaze boring into the side of his head, but he ignored him in favor of watching you. He would savor every moment he had to gaze upon you, because who knew how much longer he’d be able to. You were cleaning those boots with a quiet determination even despite the pain he could see etched on your face. But he could also see a glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.

Suddenly, one of the men approached you from behind. Caesar’s muscles tensed, nostrils flaring with a possessive huff. The look of a predatory male was universal across the animal kingdom and humans were not an exception. The man grabbed your arm roughly, yanking you to your feet, causing you to buckle on your bad leg with a soft cry. He yanked you again even as you tried to pull away, but his grip continued to tighten, his voice a low, menacing growl.

“C’mon sweetheart, you remember what happens when you put up a fight,” the man teases, his eyes raking over her with a lecherous gaze. The panic that overtook you was palpable, and you struggled harder in the man’s grip.

If Caesar was not so distracted by the occurrence of events, he would have noticed Koba’s accompanying growls of dissent and anger.

But his own heart was pounding in his chest, that surge of protective rage flooding through the very veins in his body. His muscles cramped with the restraint to act. Because if he didn’t act he knew something terrible would happen to you, something he didn’t dare want to think of. His vision narrowed, focusing solely on the man as he began to drag you, a poor little girl, across the camp while your body wracked with pleas and sobs. The world around Caesar seemed to fade, leaving only the burning need in his gut to protect what his heart had already apparently claimed as his own.

His nostrils flare with the heavy breaths and pants that leave his being, lips turning up to bare his teeth.

“Koba, stay,” Caesar whispered aloud, his voice tight with his barely controlled fury. He didn’t bother waiting for a response. With a roar that echoed through the forest floor below, he leaped from the trees, propelling him into the camp. He lands on the ground, immediately ducking into a roll to keep momentum, barreling forward on all fours towards the man his eyes are set on.

The man turned towards him, shock and panic flashing across his face at the sight of the approaching ape. His grip on you releases and you stumble back in fear. You gasp in shock as Caesar’s body collides with the man’s, the force of the impact sending him flying several feet away and left sprawled out on the ground.

“Do not touch!” Caesar barked, his canines on full display for the rest of the camp to see. An act of disobedience was an open invitation to be mauled by the towering ape king and they knew well what that meant.

You sat on the ground, cowering, knees tucked close to your chest as you tried to fit yourself beneath a nearby stand.

Koba had stayed back to watch the entire scene unfold, his eyes wide with shock, his usual disdain for humans momentarily forgotten. He had never seen Caesar act so impulsively, so stupidly. Without care for his own safety

The man Caesar had thrown scrambles to his feet, a newfound bravery at the sight of his comrades surrounding them, but Caesar was on him in an instant, vaulting forward in all fours once more. He grips the front of the man’s shirt, lifting him clear off the ground. “You will never… touch her… again,” Caesar spits, voice low and dangerous. His muzzle inches closer, his teeth bared to where the tips of his canines nearly brush against the man’s turned cheek.

The man whimpered, his bravado shattered. “Please, don’t kill me,” he begged, his voice trembling.

The other men surrounding him begin their onslaught, and he throws the one in his hands across the camp, sending him flying through one of their tents. He turns and positions himself between you and the others. He could see you trembling behind him, eyes boring holes into the side of his skull.

He would prove himself to you. He will prove he will protect you; that he can. You will see that he can provide you what you need.

The first man lunged at Caesar with a club, swinging it with all his might. Caesar raises a hand and halts it in the air, caught in his fist, and he tugs the man forward to hiss in his face. He yanks the club from his hands then swings his other arm around into the man’s gut, sending him skidding across the rocky ground.

Another came at him with a long knife, slashing wildly. Caesar grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the ground and the fragile bone snapped in his grip.

He had no care to be gentle.

***

Koba watched the chaos unfold, his eyes narrowing. He knew Caesar was strong, but even he couldn’t take on so many men alone. It baffled him why Caesar stood to protect a mere human woman who hid so cowardly behind him. However mad Caesars actions appeared, Koba would stand by his king no matter the circumstance, so he shook off the distracted thoughts and flung himself into a hurried descent.

He rushed towards where Rocket and the others were waiting for Caesar's signal. He hoots to get their attention as he approaches. “Rocket!” he signs urgently. “We need to go now! Caesar’s in trouble!”

Rocket’s eyes widen and he hoots in alarm. “What happened?” he asked, him and the others already moving towards the horses.

“Humans attacked him,” Koba signs, approaching his own horse. “He’s trying to protect the human woman, but there are too many of them.”

Rocket didn’t need to hear more. He mounted his horse in one swift motion, the others following suit. He howled, a command the others knew well and they spurred their horses into a gallop, racing towards the camp.

The sound of hooves thundered through the camp as Rocket and the others burst through the unfinished barricade. The men surrounding Caesar turned, immediate panic descending upon the group at the sight of the approaching apes. Rocket leaped from his horse, landing in the midst of the fray with a fierce battle cry.

Caesar, bloodied but unbowed, felt a surge of relief as his friends joined the fight. Rocket tackled one of the men without hesitation. The other apes followed suit. And Koba, despite his earlier reluctance, fought with a savage intensity, his anger and resentment for the humans fueling his attack. He knocked a man unconscious with a single blow, grinning down at the bloody face left in his wake.

“Are you alright?” Koba signed to Caesar on his approach, his gentle hoots gruff but concerned.

Caesar nodded, then turned towards you who he still stood in defense of. “We need to get her out of here.” You remained huddled behind him, completely at loss to the signed conversation as you stared at the two apes with a wild, frightened look in your eyes.

The fight ends quickly. The few men remaining had fled not too long after the others arrived.

Watching the last of the men flee, Caesar turned to you behind him, his scowl immediately softening as he crouched low to the ground. “Safe,” he grumbles softly, offering one of his large hands to help you up. You hesitate for a long moment, your eyes wide and teary.

“Safe,” Caesar reiterates, pulling his other hand to his chest in a gesture to himself. Your eyes darted around towards the other apes gathered around him, lip beginning to tremble pitifully before reaching out a trembling hand. Caesar reaches the rest of the way to gently grasp onto your dainty fingers, pulling you forward gently to help you rise to your feet.

The moment your hands touched, he felt a spark igniting a dormant flame in his chest; that same warmth he felt earlier. Your hand was so small, so delicate, the skin so impossibly soft against his rough, calloused palm. More so than ever imagined it could be. He wondered how it would feel if you would thread your fingers through the fur of his chest and up his shoulders, down his arms… it makes his body spasm with a shiver.

He could feel your innocence, your vulnerability, in that simple contact. It was as if your very essence was communicating with him, whispering of the pain you had endured and the hope you still clung to.

Your small fingers trembled in his, as you gripped tightly to his fingers. Your fear and hesitance shivering through your body… yet your fierce grip clinging to his hand ignited something fierce within him, a desire so strong it took his breath away. He didn’t want to let go. Holding your hand felt like holding a fragile piece of light in a world shrouded in darkness. Letting go felt unthinkable, as if releasing your hand would mean losing a part of himself.

He wanted nothing more than to draw you closer to him and embrace you, blocking out the fears and uncertainty that swarm your mind as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck and breathed you in. But he doesn’t— he won’t… instead his eyes linger on your bruised and weary form, and the desperation in your eyes.

He didn’t want to let go… but he knew bringing you back to his camp could be dangerous, not just for you, but for his people. And he knew if he did bring you back, who knows how long he could cling to the control he had over his desires.

So he gently released your hand, your own hovering in the air, frozen in the moment he released her.

“Go,” Caesar grumbles, his voice heavy with reluctance, nostrils flaring with the internal frustration and restraint. “Find a…safe place… away… from here.” He gestured towards the forest.

You stared at him, confusion and conflict bleeding through her gaze. And then you spoke to him for the first time, a meer whisper of desperation, voice soft and sweet. “But… I have nowhere to go. I-I-I… Please, don’t leave me here.”

Caesar’s heart constricted at your words, heart beating rapidly, like he was in fear for his life. He wanted nothing more than to protect you, to keep you safe, to hold you close and never let go. But he also knew his own limitations, his own fears. Bringing you back might mean losing the little bit of control he’s been clinging to. It wouldn’t take long before his instinct and desire won over and he became possessive and controlling. It was a risk he couldn’t take. He couldn’t put you into a situation like that, you deserved better.

His lips crinkle in apology, eyes softening towards you. Then he tips his chin in a gesture for you to go and he turns towards his own horse to leave. But before he could take more than a few steps, you throw yourself forward, body colliding into his as you grab his arm, your small fingers digging into his fur, brushing against the rough skin beneath. “Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I have no one else. I-I…Please.”

Caesar stopped. He turned his head and saw the desperation in your eyes. The way you trusted him, needed him. The way you wanted him, even if you didn’t realize it yourself yet.

Rocket and the others watch in silence, all in awe at the sight of their leader buckling beneath the plea of a human.

Caesar’s chest heaves with his heavy breaths, his resolve finally cracking. He couldn’t just send you off, not when you had nowhere else to turn. And if you were asking to come with him… then it wouldn’t be his fault what might happen. It’s not him, deciding your fate for his own selfish reasons.

“Alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with a gentle determination. “Come.” He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling it from your grip to ease you forward towards his horse. He can feel the warmth radiating off you, the tantalizing brush of his fur against your clothed skin. One of the other apes holds the horse in place as you two approach and before you can so much as try to climb up on your own, Caesar grips you around the waist and lifts you effortlessly onto the stallion’s back. You squeak softly at the sudden movement, and you grapple forward once seated to grasp onto the horse's mane. Caesar can’t help but smile at your innocent anxiety and mounts behind you to ensure you wouldn’t fall.

The other apes around them mount their own steeds and Caesar grabs the reins with one hand, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you back into his body, slotting you so you sit comfortably between his legs. He spurs the horse forward with a soft hoot to direct the others to do so as well, and you grip tightly to his forearm as you move forward, pressing your back further into his chest to steady herself.

Caesar smiles and tightens his hold as they pick up pace to a gentle trot. He never would have pictured things turning out this way… a human woman pressed so closely to him, holding her, smelling her, feeling her against him. He already knew he was going to have a difficult time controlling himself.

In the midst of his thoughts, you lean back slightly, your body relaxing into his as you get lost in your own. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. This ape, whoever he is, is safe… you are finally safe.

Taglist: @night-shadowblood-writes2 @edynmeyer1 @chermg @httpvomitello @hrlzy

**Thank you all very much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know. Next chapter is when it starts to get pretty good, so stay tuned XD**

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

i'll be here when you come back

pair: Fred Weasley x reader

requested by anonymous

Ok so I had this really really cute and fluffy idea while watching Order of The Phoenix So it's Fred Weasley x reader and when the twins go and do their firework show when they leave Fred quickly stops and goes over to reader and finally admits to how much he loves her and how he's been in love with her for awhile and then they finally get together and kiss before he leaves Ahhhhh this is so cute and could reader be a Slytherin since I'm a Slytherin

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The hall was in chaos. Fireworks shot through the Great Hall as Fred and George Weasley’s grand exit unfolded. Students cheered, dodging sparklers and colorful explosions. Among them, Y/N watched with wide eyes, a half-smile tugging at her lips. As a Slytherin, she wasn’t supposed to enjoy their antics, but how could she resist? Especially when it came to Fred.

Her heart pounded harder than usual, and it wasn’t just from the chaos. She'd been harboring feelings for Fred Weasley for what felt like forever, but she’d convinced herself he’d never feel the same. After all, why would a Gryffindor prankster fall for a Slytherin like her?

But then, something strange happened. While George was causing a distraction, Fred’s gaze darted around the room. Then, almost as if pulled by an invisible force, he ran straight toward Y/N.

"Fred?" she muttered under her breath, confused as he weaved through the crowd toward her. Her heart skipped a beat.

Before she could say anything else, Fred stopped in front of her, his breath heavy but his eyes filled with that playful spark she’d come to love. "Y/N," he said, his voice loud enough to be heard over the fireworks but soft in its own way.

Her heart raced. "What are you doing? You’re supposed to be making your grand escape!" she teased, trying to keep her voice steady despite the nervous butterflies fluttering inside her.

Fred grinned, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous smile. This one was softer, more genuine. "I am. But first, I had to tell you something."

Y/N blinked, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "What?"

Fred looked at her like the chaos of the hall had faded away, and it was just the two of them. "I've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly, though his eyes held her steady. "I couldn’t leave without telling you that."

Her heart stopped. Everything else in the hall disappeared, and it was just her and Fred. The boy she'd been dreaming of, admitting the one thing she never thought she'd hear.

"You... you what?" she whispered, still in disbelief.

Fred chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I love you, Y/N. Have for ages. I just couldn’t leave without telling you. I mean, how dumb would that be?"

For a moment, she was speechless. But then, with all the courage she could muster, she reached up, cupping his face. "You idiot," she whispered, grinning. "I love you too."

Fred's eyes widened, and before either of them could say another word, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. It was a kiss that felt like it had been waiting forever, filled with the excitement, relief, and affection they’d both been holding back.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, but their smiles were wider than ever.

Fred gave her hand a squeeze, a lingering look of regret crossing his face. "I have to go now, but—"

Y/N nodded, her heart lighter than it had ever been. "Go," she said softly, giving him a small smile. "I'll be here when you come back."

Fred grinned. "You'd better be," he teased, his eyes twinkling. Then, with one last kiss on her forehead, he turned and ran off to join George, disappearing into the chaos.

Y/N stood there, her fingers brushing over her lips, still feeling the warmth of Fred's kiss. The fireworks still crackled above, but all she could focus on was the fact that Fred Weasley—her Fred—loved her.

[basilone]

Can I request Benny x Darlene + ⁸⁴⁾ a steamed-up bathroom and cold floorboards, please? 💕

You most certainly can, thank you so much for sending this! 💙 Fair warning for this one, as it is one that packs a whole punch of feelings in it because it's a Benny/Darlene + post-stalag reunion... Also might give a tiny bit away about the state of another pairing in this particular narrative, but the main focus here very much is these two navigating Benny's homecoming.

Darlene shivers when the bedroom’s chill nips at her skin. It hadn’t been this cold when they’d first arrived – the same room they’d had last time when they were at the coast, the same comfortable bed that would get almost too warm in morning – but she supposes anything will feel colder than the steamed-up bathroom she’s just escaped from.

Escaped.

Her stomach twists at the notion. Feels like it’s sinking all the way down to her feet, plummeting abruptly toward the cold wooden floorboards without so much as a by-your-leave. Her hand shoots out before her next step becomes a stumble. She breathes, sharply, in through her nose and out through her mouth, when her fingers lock around the edge of the dresser beside the door.

Escaped is what the brass had said about Lot and Major Cleven, already back on base before all the rest of them had finally been brought home. Escaped, which Darlene supposes sounds like a prize you can win except for the part where she’s seen Lot’s hand shoot out simply to anchor Major Cleven’s trembling fist. Except for the part where they only sleep when lying together in the belly of their plane, but never in their separate bunks at night. She has seen Major Cleven’s body rest between Lot and everything else, as though their prison had created more shield than man out of him, and Lot’s eyes had followed Darlene’s every move through the plane with all the air of an animal that is not used to freedom.

She’s seen the same look in Ben’s eyes tonight.

Escaped wasn’t what they’d said about him. Liberated had been the term – the news, the joy, the pride – when they’d told her he was coming back to England.

Darlene scoffs to herself as she opens the dresser. She supposes it’s only apt to speak of liberation when you are sitting in some office back home, on some plush chair in the United States, ready to tell the people and the President that the boys are coming home. It’s a word to use in newspaper articles all right, becoming harder to stomach with every byline. Her own tummy roils at the thought of someone else telling her that Ben’s free. Liberated. She’s gonna damn well take a swing at the next fella proclaiming that sort of nonsense.

Her hands lock around the softest towel she can find. It’s softer than her hands, which are calloused and worn. Softer than the bedsheets, even, but Ben had met even those with a wonder he hadn’t…

Her fists tighten around the towel. Darlene swallows back the noise that threatens to claw out of her throat. Bites her tongue to stop it from rising again – halt that fucking wail, that horror of grief – and exhales past her teeth. Brings the towel up to her cheek to halt her lone tear in its tracks before it can multiply.

It’s not the place for tears. Not yet. She scrapes her throat. Blinks at herself in the mirror until her eyes stop blurring her freckles and the white lace of her top. Hold it the fuck together, Dar, she almost says out loud, except he’s in the warm bathroom next door and the walls here are too thin. She’s been telling herself she’ll cry later. Has been digging half-moon reminders of it into the palms of her hands since Lot’d come home and whispered a sorry into Darlene’s collar that had somehow managed to sound like an apology for all the goddamn hurt she’d caused. Has been biting it back since her arms had first locked around Benny – around what them damn Nazis had left of him, all bone and cold – and he’d been wet-cheeked enough for both of them already.

She exhales again. Clicks the dresser shut. Swings the door to the bathroom back open before the tears hit after all, welcoming its heat even though it’s gonna make her hair curl and frizz up to stay in it for long.

“Got ya a nice towel,” she announces needlessly, holding it aloft before dropping it onto the small stool beside the tub. “Knew I’d seen it somewhere in that damn dresser, hidin’ behind all them scratchier towels they want ya to use first.”

“You’re messing with their hotel business plan,” he replies, gaze gliding past the towel and straight back to her face. His mouth quirks a little, as if to signify how broadly he would’ve smiled about teasing her some months ago. “They’re going to make you pay extra for using that one.”

“I’d like to see ’em try,” snorts Darlene, vastly accustomed to all the ways in which people try and scam you out of having a good time. “Didn’t work last time we were here”– when they’d used towels like those for means other than a bath, which still brings color to her cheeks if she dwells on it too long –“and it sure as hell ain’t gon’ work on me now. They should be thankin’ us for comin’ back at all, given the damn sorry state of them pillows.”

Ben’s eyes are still soft when he looks at her. Impossibly soft, with some gentle twinkle of humor locked in them after all this time. He looks at her like he still recognizes her, from the top of her head where she’s piled most of her curls right down to her hands which are drawing small circles of comfort onto his skin. Like he still knows how to map every freckle on her skin – she’s seen his eyes follow familiar patterns, lips moving slightly as though the memory of kissing them is coming back to him the longer he looks at her – and like he remembers every detail of her eyes.

His hand is at her elbow, thumbing its crease. He doesn’t reply to her anymore, already drifting again amid the heat of the water and the touch of her fingertips. She scoots closer, as close as she can get without getting in the tub herself, and presses a close-mouthed kiss to the boniest part of his shoulder. Hears the soft rattle of his exhale. Hears the sniffle that follows it, with her lips still ghosting over his skin, with one of her stray curls tickling his collarbone, and silently blames the steam of the bathroom for misting over her own eyes.

“It’s all right,” she murmurs, summoning her last remaining vestiges what George had called bravery and what she’d dubbed foolishness. “Ben, it’s okay”– it’s not, it’s really not, but what the hell else is she gonna tell him? –“it’s all right, hey,” she hushes, leaning over to kiss the tear that’s slipping down his cheek away, “you’re here with me, all right? You’re home with me. We’re in that hotel ya dragged me to on our first weekend pass, that real long one ya’d wrangled without me even knowin’ it.” She smiles at the memory. Lets her smile rest against his cheek before kissing him again. “Thought it’d do us some good here. Ain’t nobody gon’ clock us getting into the same bed here. No write-ups happenin’. Just you an’ me.”

“Not…”

“Yeah?”

“Not a whole lot of use you’re getting,” he murmurs. “Not with… With this. Me.”

Darlene leans back just so she can fix him with the most beady-eyed stare she can muster. “You’re here, ain’t ya,” she deadpans, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. “I’m gon’ be the judge of use, Ben, Jesus Christ. Bein’ here with ya? Having…” She swallows, blinking, and almost curses as she sees the drip-drop of her own tears in his bathwater. “Having you back? Alive? Bein’ able ta… Goddamn it,” she sniffles, rubbing at her cheeks with a trembling hand, “being able ta hold ya? To kiss your cheek, to breathe ya in, to wake up with your arm around my waist? I dreamed about that the whole damn fucking time you was gone, ya hear? The whole goddamn time them Nazi fucks had ya locked up in there, I was thinkin’ about today. About right now, havin’ ya with me.”

“Dar…”

“Don’t talk to me about use, Ben,” she snaps, furiously blinking to stop herself from blubbering about the whole thing. “I ain’t in this relationship with ya just because the sex blows my fuckin’ mind, all right?” She pokes at his chest, unable to bite back a slight grin now that she’s gone and confessed that, and shakes her head as her fingers meet scar tissue that wasn’t there before. “You’re a goddamn idiot, Bernard DeMarco”– she laments, fingertips slipping beneath the water just so she can memorize that new scar –“if ya haven’t realized by now that I fucking love ya, I’d go fight the whole damn world to get to keep ya,” she whispers, hearing him go quieter than ever, “and I’d say yes to marryin’ ya in a heartbeat.”

It takes less than a heartbeat for his lips to find hers in a kiss that makes everything else go silent.

“Darling,” he murmurs, after, voice almost catching on the ache that resides inside it. “Darlene”– he exhales, breath a mere flutter against her cheek –“darling Darlene.” Ben’s lips find that little freckle, high up on her cheekbone, that he’d once proudly proclaimed was his favorite. “I love you too.”

He makes it sound like freedom.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Imagine you are laying in bed with Vox and you know he is charging/asleep and you are trying to do your walk of shame/pride and you pull out your phone to call for an Uber/taxi and when you look at your screen it Vox going "Baby come back to bed"

This ended up nsfw lmao Vox x Reader, CW: vagina fingering, and p in V sex.

You slide out of bed, looking over your shoulder to make sure Vox's screen is still dimmed and his eyes shut.

Quickly gathering your clothes and heading out through the hauntingly quiet halls of VoxTek, footsteps echoing as you scramble to call your ride.

Fuck you knew it was a mistake to sleep with your boss, fuck fuck fuck, what were you going to do? What was he going to do? Fire you? Maybe you should quit.

Your mind whirrs as you get in your ride... Odd you hadn't called for a limousine but you checked the name with the driver and he said something about an upgrade so you shrugged assuming other drivers were too busy or something.

You get in and start doomscrolling your phone to try and calm your nerves, fidgeting slightly as you feel Vox's cum trickling from you, fuck you'd forgot your panties, adjusting your skirt uncomfortably, glad of the privacy screen you look back at your phone and yelp nearly dropping it and Vox's face appears on the screen.

Vox: "Babydoll what are you doing? You should come back to bed."

His voice is so assured you almost agree, he always had something about him that mad you want to agree to anything his said, despite your own self imposed rules about not getting attached to folk down here and only having one night stands.

You: "Sorry sir, this was a mistake, we shouldn't... Won't be doing this again... I understand I need to look for a new job tomorrow."

Vox's face frowns, and you sigh with relief thinking he's going to agree but you shriek when suddenly with a bolt and a zap to your hand he's suddenly sat beside you, having travelled through your phone.

You blush in mortification as he's still utterly bare.

You: "S-Sir... -"

Vox: "Oh no Doll, I've found something I like, and I don't give up my toys so easily, so I'm going to convince you to come back with me now, and you're going to be a good little Doll and TRUST me."

Blinking as you feel slightly dizzy, you whimper as you feel his hand sliding up your thigh, and your body is oddly limp as he spreads you open without resistance, hiking your skirt around your waist, his eyes glued to the sight of his cum dripping out of you.

Vox: "Fuck Babydoll, that's so hot. Just waiting for me really weren't you, left me a parting gift and everything."

You: "I-I never do more than one night stands."

Vox: "That's because you've always been mine, and those other idiots were too dumb to chase soothing so damn perfect."

You can't respond as his tongue eases inside your mouth and his fingers start sliding through your folds simultaneously. You hips buck and a needy whine escapes your lips.

Vox: "Now let's see how much convincing you need to come back and stay."

Your hips arch and your chest strains as he rubs teasing circles around your clit.

You: "Vox..."

Vox: "That's right Babydoll, thays exactly how you should be saying my name."

Vox keeps rubbing you, his mouth marking your shoulder as the shoulder on your shirt is ripped, but you can't think, can't mind it as he drives you closer and closer to your peak.

The squelch of his fingers sliding into you is embarrassingly loud and he chuckles against your neck, which is bent at such an odd but accommodating angle.

Your moans increase as his fingers fucks you more relentlessly now, your clit feeling puffy and swollen as his thumb doesn't stop tormenting it too.

You hand grabs his wrist for grounding and you feel the flex of his tendons and muscles at work as he drives his digits deep inside you.

You : "Oh fuck."

Vox: "Don't worry, Doll, we will, again."

Your other hand is grabbed and placed right on his hard cock, the rigid member throbbing in your grasp and you cry out as your fall apart all over Vox's fingers.

Twitching and spasming, you swear you hear him gasp as the grip of your hand on his cock matches that of your cunt on his fingers.

Vox: "Perfect little Doll, now you're coming home with me aren't you, and you're going to be a good Toy and not leave."

Absently you nod, and don't even notice as you end up within moments on a plush bed, clothing shredded, and crying out his name once more as his cock starts fucking his own cum even deeper inside you.

Vox: "Trust me, Babydoll, you're staying right here where you belong... Mine."

*The driver had been hired by Vox and was literally circling the streets, that's why they never arrived anywhere 😂

[sapphothetic]

no one has been able to accurately voice what true love feels like since this i think