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oceantornadoo · 15 days ago

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a most pleasant marriage (john price x f!reader, minor simon x john x reader)

medieval arranged marriage au, SMUT, reader is a virgin, i did no research i fear, 4k wc

The emerald grass below your window, stories high and nearly minuscule, sways as you wait. And wait. And wait.

He was supposed to come two days ago. Your new husband, a foreigner, promised to you by your father in exchange for help to gain his own lands back. Greed begets greed, and while your maids help you change for your nightgown to a favorite dress of light blue, your stomach churns at the thought of the kind of man who would make such a promise. Your father has refused to educate you in any sort of war strategy, but you’re wily enough to know that promises can easily be broken. That the sagging stone buildings of your kingdom, small and unimportant to bigger ones that stomp on it like a bug, are no prize to be won. Why would your future husband want to help such a land when he could just as easily take it?

And so you wait outside of the arched slits of your stone window, your stitching in your lap as you halfheartedly nod to the chattering gossip of your ladies. After tea later in the day, sugar and butter heavy in your stomach, you nearly doze to their droning in your chair.

The clattering of horses wakes you right up.

A band of knights on horses, dressed in the black and white colors of your husband’s household, climb the winding hill that leads to your castle. You drop your stitching on a side table and gather your skirts, nearly running down the hall as your ladies follow you gleefully, taking another way about to the entrance hall. Worn stone and fiery sconces pass you in a blur as you skip down curved staircases, apprehension flooding your veins. What if he’s cruel? What if he breaks his promise to your father? What if-

A wall of muscle cuts off your next step, and thought, as you ram right into someone. You can tell it’s a man by the scent of musk and sweat, heady in the center of his torso. Your face hits stretched fabric as pain floods your nose. Strong hands grip your waist, a place no man’s ever touched, and stop your momentum from causing further destruction. Your hands, heavy from the stylish long sleeves that widen at your wrist, grip at stern shoulders as you steady yourself and your rapid breathing.

“I apologize, good sir. It was not my intent to run into you, I merely did not see where I was going. My deepest apologies.” You remove your hands to gingerly touch your nose, effectively blocking your view of him as you try to ensure no permanent damage was done. Remembering yourself, you step back until his hands leave your waist, coldness seeping in after. A terrible position to be caught in, especially with your husband’s men and potentially your husband himself in this very castle.

“Not to worry. I should hope I’m able to withstand an act of violence from a princess after my years of warfare.” Satisfied your nose is not broken, you remove your hands from your face slowly. A man stands before you, seemingly unruffled from your run in. Strong legs, horseman’s legs, build into a wide torso, the kind made for an armored chest plate with shoulders broad enough to bear it. He wears black and white and the insinuation of it sends a shiver down your spine. At last, you take in his face. His eyes are less kind than you thought they’d be based on his voice, the dark blue of a cruel river stream, fast enough to drown a child. He wears a beard in an unusual shape, one you’ve never seen on any man. His hair, brown as an oak tree, is thick enough to run your fingers through.

The thought is traitorous.

“If you call that an act of violence, you must not give accidents any berth to be what they are. Just accidents, that is.” The words escape without thinking, your hands flying to your mouth to stop the onslaught of thoughts spilling from your mouth like a waterfall. It’s then that you notice other things about the stranger. The quality of the fabric he wears, noticing that the black is actually a deep indigo, a rare color you’ve only heard of from whispers in court. Metal chains of gold encircle his neck, showcasing his wealth through lapis and rubies. Such a man must be rich beyond your wildest dreams, and certainly beyond your father. Your heart drops at the realization.

“You knew I was a princess.” You murmur before he can acknowledge your earlier sentence. “Yes.” He takes a step further, no honorific in his words. Any man who’d have the gall to not acknowledge your title must have a reason to. Realistically, he might be able to tell your status based on the jewels that adorn you, but something bigger itches at your brain like a hound pawing at a closed door. “How?” You whisper, eyes trained on his shoes. Something drops on the floor, and only when your trembling fingers touch your skin do you realize your nose is bleeding.

“Your father showed me your portrait before I agreed to the marriage agreement.” His feet, clothed in indigo as well, come into your field of vision as he steps into your space. A callused hand raises your chin up, his thumb swiping at the blood under your nose. He removes his hand almost immediately, his thumb slick with your red blood nearing his mouth. You watch as his pink tongue swipes at the blood, then track as he wipes the rest on the white of his tunic. A claiming, a forbearance of what’s to come.

“King John.” You curtsy as another drop of blood falls, staining the fabric of your sky-like gown. Out of the corner of your eye, the king grins.

“A pleasure to meet you, Princess.”

You officially meet a few hours later. It seems that King John didn’t mention your illicit meeting to your father, and after staunching the bleeding of your nose and changing into another gown, you didn’t either. The gown is a deep blue color, and you couldn’t help but think of King John’s eyes when you picked it. You plead a headache as to why you return early, and your ladies are eager to fill the silence with gossip of the men King John brought with him. One who wore the mask of a human skull, a Scotsman, and another who made so many flirtatious overtures half of the women fainted. All you can think of are warm hands on your waist, gripping you like a God-given right. Though, you suppose it is.

When you make your entrance into the throne room, it’s surprisingly empty. No courtesans, though your kingdom has few already. Instead, King John converses with your father at his throne, towering over the man by pure stature. You curtsy and scurry further when your father calls your name, already confused at the unusual silence of the room.

“King John, may I present my eldest daughter. I trust she is to your liking?” There is no warmth in his tone, just the promise of retribution sparkling in your father’s eyes, the same color as your own. You turn to King John and curtsy again, keeping your eyes lowered as you stand demurely afterwards. “Your Grace,” you murmur. He’s silent, eyes burning into you as he appraises you. He hums, a low sound that goes straight to your core. You hope he noticed the color of your gown.

“She is. Her portrait does not compare.” Your cheeks warm as you keep your gaze lowered, years of etiquette classes holding back your reaction. Father grunts, clearly not wanting to spend more time than necessary praising you when they could be discussing how to win your lands back. “Yes, Your Grace. As we discussed, the ceremony and exchange of dowry will take place tomorrow.” Your heart thunders, blood rushing in your ears. You knew it was coming, of course, having packed most of your things and done dress fittings as your mother planned the wedding itself. Hearing the confirmation out loud is a different beast. This is your new life.

You hope he will be kind.

They converse about the dowry but do not dismiss you, leaving you to stay frozen in place as they discuss how many gold coins and jewels you are worth. Finally, you are dismissed with a reminder of the welcome feast tonight.

If this is the feast before the wedding, you fear for the antics of the one after. King John’s men, a horde of knights with almost no holy men to be found, are rambunctious as they drink your wine coffers dry. You sit at the seat of honor tonight, usually only reserved for your brother, the heir. King John sits on the other side of your father, mainly conversing with the man in the skull mask as you pick at your meal. Your father is reddened by drink, a young maid who is not your mother seated in his lap as he raves about his last conquest years ago. Your ladies titter beside you, your other sibling and mother having been sent off to bed an hour ago.

“Daughter!” You jolt as your father slaps the table to get your attention. “Yes, Father?” You answer meekly. “Practice serving your husband. His cup should never be empty.” He plucks a flagon of wine out of a passing maid’s hands and shoves it towards you. You rise and take it from him, hands shaking as you uncork it. When you round his chair, his gaze back on the woman on his lap, King John’s men stare. And stare. One of them with eyes like lightning nudged the handsome one beside him, whispering something that makes them both laugh. The skull-faced one, sitting closest to King John, is silent, his eyes dark as a demon’s.

You wrench your gaze away from them to land on your future husband’s. His cheeks are pinked from wine and he sits with his legs spread, wide enough to fit a barrel of ale between them. “Go’on.” You pour, your full focus on the jeweled cup as you feel his full focus on you. When the glass is nearly full, you place down the flagon and stand uncomfortably, waiting to be dismissed.

He does not dismiss you.

Those same hands from this afternoon grab your waist again, pulling you harshly into his lap. You make an unladylike squeal, immediately looking over your shoulder to see if your father noticed. Thankfully, he’s gone, probably off with that poor maid. “Your Grave, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You plead, hands gripping the fabric of your skirts so hard they might rip. He shifts you so you sit on one of his thighs, your feet in the space between them while the side of your ass is practically on his…

“You’ll be my wife in the mornin’. And I’d slay anyone makin’ fuss.” You gasp at his sternness, turning to see the truth of his words written on his face. One hand cups the front of your thigh, searing like a cow’s brand, while the other steadies your hip, keeping you in place. “You would, Your Grace?” You ask, eyes wide. He nods, straightening a bit so you fall further into him. Your hand reaches out to brace his chest, your fingers tangling in gold chains, and you keep it there, drunk on the power beneath you. Your father has never made any claims in your name, content to push any duties of propriety onto your mother.

“Call me John,” he implores. He nods his head to the skullfaced man who’s been watching your exchange, no turning in his chair to give you a sense of privacy. “Sir Simon, my right hand. Garrick and MacTavish are off somewhere in the crowd, his seconds.” You nod in your best imitation of a curtsy while affixed to your future husband’s lap. Beneath your thigh, you feel something harden. You freeze as the warmth in your core. John makes no comment, pressing circles into the velvet of your dress above your hip.

“They call you the Ghost, Sir Simon.” It seems wine has loosened your tongue as well. Thankfully, he grunts in a way you think might be a chuckle. “They do, sweetheart. He scare you?” John murmurs, his words losing any royal tone. Nervously, you nod minutely. John chuckles, shaking you awake like a bath gone cold. “He’s not the one you need to be scared of. C’mere.” He scoops your skirts and legs over his other thigh, closing his own to make an overwhelming lap of strength with tree trunk thighs. John grips your chin, a memory of this afternoon, and turns you this way and that. Sir Simon leans forward, close enough that his legs brush your own. “Pretty.” Sir Simon concludes, leaning back out of your face as his chair creaks. “Agreed. And plenty to handle.” He squeezes your thigh for emphasis. You clamp them shut, afraid he’ll take you right there on the table if you give him any leeway. It’s a complicated mix of fear and something you can’t quite name, close to the anticipation of a new dress but all encompassing. Below your stomach, butterflies flutter in places reserved for your husband. For John.

“Go to bed, princess. I’ll see you in the morn’.”

The morning disappears like lemon cakes on a spring morning. The formality of the religious ceremony carved itself into your bones, the same way your father carves your name on the decree of your marriage. Then it’s a parade through the town square, sitting in an open carriage and waving to the crowd as John holds your hand. The sun is sweltering, but you don’t know if that’s from the layers of white fabric you wear or John’s insistence on being next to you at all times. Then it’s back to the castle, the exchange of the dowry getting packed into the carts John’s men brought.

It all leads up to the feast.

This time, you are directly next to John at the place of honor. So many toasts are made you start to lose your voice, placating it with hot broth from the kitchens. Hours later, the crowd drunk on its own congratulations, your father stands with his goblet in his hand. “It is time.” He announces ominously. You lose John’s grip as your father guides you down into the crowd.

Hands, everywhere. Men of all ages lift you above their heads and tear your clothes off at the same time, making their way to your Royal Chamber for the night. All you can do is close your eyes as the smell of fermented wine rolls off their tongues, greedy hands grabbing what they can as they get you up the stairs. Thankfully, it’s harder for them to be coordinated, abandoning the struggle against white fabric as they bring you to the chamber door.

John arrives just after you, a gaggle of women behind him. He’s not as undressed as you, with only a tear in his tunic. You frown and he senses it, his eyes immediately turning stormy. “Out.” John orders. The women leave, but the stupider men stay. One lord speaks up, a slimy gleam to his face. “I beg your pardon, but we need to watch the consummation, Your Grace.” You almost retch at the thought of them watching you be intimate with a man you barely know. “Out.” John says again, fire in his voice like a dragon. They take the hint and fumble their way down the stairs. You gasp in air, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Wife.” He greets you, appraising your torn state of dress. Your skirts are ruined, turned into strips of fabric. The lengthy sleeves have turned into scraps, exposing the top of your chest, but nothing more. With every breath, you can feel the dress start to rip even more. “Husband,” you reply breathily.

He opens the door for you. The fireplace quietly warms the room, but there’s no light other than that, making everything past the bed hard to see. You start fidgeting as you walk in front of him, taking a seat on the bed as you fiddle with your hands. “We need witnesses for the consummation. If I’m not with child right away, they’ll say it’s my fault or annul it or say you’re-“ He stops you with a thumb to your cheek, the rest of his fingers squeezing the side of your neck. “Look in the corner.” You squint, scanning the room for whatever he’s looking for. Suddenly, you hear a masculine grunt from the darkest corner of the room. When you whip your head towards it, you catch graphite eyes and the silhouette of a warrior.

“Sir Simon.” He tilts his head in acknowledgment, almost like he’s bored with his role. Your palms sweat and you rub your thighs together to stave off the strange feeling in your stomach. “Don’t look at him, wife. Look at me.” You follow John’s orders immediately, locking onto his intense gaze. “What have you been told of this?” Your cheeks warm, remembering the short lesson from your religious teacher and an even shorter one from your mother.

“I shall lay down and let my husband use my body to complete our marital duties.” John sits down beside you with a grunt. Instead of responding, he runs a finger down the length of your exposed shoulder. You shiver involuntarily. He leans forward, and you stiffen as he kisses your shoulder. The last time you received a kiss was years ago, after a harrowing fever where your mother sat next to your bedside for a fortnight. “Is this…part of the marital duties?” You ask, voice trembling as he makes his way to the side of your neck he previously held. “Yes.” John murmurs into the hollow of your throat. He licks at the skin there and you jump, almost hitting your jaw against his head.

“Steady now.” Simon’s voice is raspy, like a dry paintbrush against blank canvas. You follow his orders immediately, willing yourself to calm down as John comes off the bed and in front of you.

And then, he kneels.

A King kneels before you, his rough hands dragging your tattered skirts up your legs, revealing parts of your skin that have never seen the sun. You freeze as he makes his way to your thighs, the skirt sitting around your waist. Your underskirts are made for using the chamber pot easily, so there’s no fabric around your cunt. John groans again, close enough that you can feel his breath cool the wetness beneath you. “Y’know what that is, princess?” He murmurs, spreading your thighs with ease. You shake your head, confused at the butterflies in your core. “Slick. Wetness. Arousal for your husband and his second, hm?” It seems rhetorical, so you stay silent as his fingers near your cunt. He kisses your inner thigh and you immediately snap your thighs shut. John looks up at you, violence in his eyes. “Stay open.” You try to, forcing your thighs open as he nears again. One large hand steadies your right thigh as his other strokes the slick between your thighs. When his fingers get close, your thighs snap shut again of their own will.

“Simon.” He appears in an instant, stony eyes peering down like he’s reading a text. “Hold her other leg open.” A scarred hand clamps down on your left thigh, wrenching you open almost to the point of discomfort. This time, John rubs his fingers at the slick between your folds and all you can do is sit there and take it. His thumb dips into your hole, and the intrusion is frightening, but he’s gone before you can even notice. He moves it up a little and there.

A loud moan escapes your lips, a sound you’ve never heard before. You clamp your hands to your mouth in embarrassment, remembering your mother’s lessons about staying quiet. “There she is.” John murmurs, seemingly uncaring of your break of expectations. He rubs again and again, then changes the angle so the heel of his hand rubs while he teases the entrance of your hole. Your breaths are heaving and Simon’s hand is hot on your thigh, sure to leave marks tomorrow. The top of your dress, already crumbling, breaks under the weight of your panting just as John presses his palm hard. Your nipples scrape against the dress fabric as your tits escape from the confines of your dress while Simon squeezes the soft skin of your thigh. It’s a funny feeling, a little like peeing, as you release into John’s hold, whining as he holds his palm steady.

“What just- I don’t know- did I do something wrong?” You pant as both men look at you with sparkles in their eyes. “It’s called an orgasm, princess. A release. Necessary for your marital duties. You’re being perfect.” Your heart calms at his praise, and it’s only when you nod do you realize your tits are bouncing of their own accord. John stands, ripping your bodice before you can even think to process. Simon tugs the fabric out from under you as John pushes you back, scanning you like a hunter after a deer. “Hands on your tits, wife.” You follow his instructions, laying your hands confusingly across your chest. John opens your thighs with both hands this time, his mouth wet against your curls. Simon leans over you and you realize this whole time, he’s removed the skull mask with only a black handkerchief covering the bottom half of his face. Those same scarred hands cover your own, showing you how to squeeze your nipples until you understand on your own.

The movements send sparks down your spine, making your hips buck against John’s face. He doesn’t complain, sucking hard at your cunt as you squirm. Simon's stare is as intense as a full moon on a clear night, making you feel like the center of the room. Even as a princess, you've never gotten such attention without it feeling transactional. There is no pain like how your maids whispered, just sheer pleasure, better than any honey cake or sweet wine stolen from the kitchens. Lightning sparks down your body, and the pressure of John holding you down while Simon knows your body better than your own. Your cunt is sopping, the sheets under you wet from your slick as you convulse when John adds a finger inside you. You gasp at the sensation, one becoming two quickly as he finds no resistance. He crooks them towards himself, like he's telling his pretty wife to come here. You come again just like that, thrashing into Simon's hands until you melt like a spring snow into the bed.

John strips off his clothing harshly, revealing a masculine figure you've only seen in carvings or glimpses from the men practicing at their swords in the yard. Hair all over, bearish in appearance, but you're learned enough now to not close your thighs. "C'mere," he orders, and you scramble forward, losing the warmth of Simon's hands. He guides your soft hands to his cock, letting you explore it with questioning touches. It's heavy in your hands, velvety but hard as stone. He grunts when you do an exploratory tug, and you drop your hands, afraid you did something wrong.

"This may be quick, wife. I'll rectify it in the morn'." You nod, brows furrowed as you were told it was always quick, no matter what. John climbs out of you as Simon steps back, but you can see his own silhouette of his cock through his trousers, backlit from the fireplace. John lays his weight on you, his forearms bracketing your head, and you sigh at the comforting feel of him. There's no fear anymore, your senses pliable from two orgasms. He nudges open your legs and you feel an intrusion of where he was before, but it's smoother than you thought it would be as he slides in. "John." You moan, mouth open as fullness grows inside. "So sweet, princess." He murmurs into your ear, pushing further until the hilt. You whine, squirming until Simon presses a gigantic hand on your stomach, keeping you in place as John finds his bearings.

He thrusts once and your breath hitches, your arms wrapping around his muscular shoulders as you sink your claws into his back. John tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and it feels like so much more than duty as he finds a pace. Simon's hand stays there, and your stomach feels fuller than the biggest feast. John's thumb finds your cunt and you start squealing at the overwhelming feeling. "John, I'm- cannot again I-," and he just chuckles, thrusting over and over. You share the same breath, your eyes finding Simon's at every other moment. If this is marriage, you think, it is nowhere near a prison. It's the rough hair of John scraping against your torso, his sweat gliding against yours. That spark builds again, not as bright as before but still powerful, and you clench again when he hits a specific spot. John, slippery with sweat and panting murmurs, follows after, warmth flooding between your thighs as he slows.

"I apologize, I cannot last as long as I used to." John confesses, still inside you as Simon takes his hand back. Your head is cloudy and sugar sweet with no room for reason. Your hands are still on his shoulders, and on instinct you move one to slide into his thick head of hair. "Nothing to apologize for, husband. It was pleasant." Simon chuckles, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. ��Pleasant, she says.” John says to Simon, letting you gasp as he slips out of you, his cock leaving a trail of white on your thighs. You tighten your grip against John’s scalp as you watch Simon return to his seat, practically unaffected despite his arousal.

“Did I please you, husband?”

“Yes, wife. This shall be a pleasant marriage. Now rest.” And you do, John trapping you with his body and Simon trapping you with his eyes.

#simon ghost riley #cod 141 #tornadothoughts #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #john price x reader #captain john price #simon riley x john price x reader #john price x simon riley x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader

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dirtylilspawn · 2 months ago

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hi, i recently discovered your account, and now i'm just in love with your fics, i really liked the headcanons about reader manhandling lads boys. Can you do a reverse version? like, if they wanted to take revenge.

ᴍᴀɴʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴛ. 2

Summary: The lads boys manhandle you right back.

Fandom: Love & Deepspace

Parings: [Rafayel x Fem!Reader, Sylus x Fem!Reader, Caleb x Fem!Reader, Xavier x Fem!Reader, Zayne x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hi!!! I'm so happy you like my fics especially the manhandling one, I had fun writing it. And it seems like a lot of people love it haha! Pls don't be afraid to ask anything else you want me to write next. Give me some more good inspiration yall, for me to work on lol. Manhandled pt. 1

Warnings: Fluff & humor, some suggestive stuff, cursing, jealousy, drunk reader

════════════════════════════

RAFAYEL

You and Rafayel frequently visit the beach whenever you can.

A was special place for the both of you.

It was summer break, a good excuse to once again visit the ocean together. Staying away from the heat, enjoying each other's company, eating great food, and walking along the sandy beach. That was your typical outing with Rafayel. And if you were feeling more adventurous, Rafayel would take you deep diving along the ocean floors. The two of you swimming along the currents, seeing the beauty of every coral reef or fish, and many other sea life.

Right now, your whole body was floating along the calm waters.

Your back and legs carried by the cool ocean, cradling you with ease. Your eyes were connected with the bright blue sky above you; a few small clouds pass by but otherwise it was a clear sky today. You smiled while letting out a chilled sigh.

You came over to Rafayel's place, wanting to use his private beach to relax and have fun. It has been a suffering hot for the last two weeks, and you needed a break. You didn't even ask him, the moment you showed up to his home, you were already in your two-piece swimsuit. A pretty white bikini with pink shell tracings along the edges, strings wrapping around your neck and upper torso, while the bottoms had string bows on the side of your waist. You also wore a pink see-through coverup with sandals. And to top it off, you held a basket filled with sandwiches, drinks, snack, desserts, that the two of you enjoyed.

This was a surprise of course, but a very openly welcomed surprise to Rafayel none-the-less. Seeing you in such a visually pleasing bikini was nothing but perfection in Rafayel's world, plus there was food, so really, he couldn't deny you. If he could, he'd tell you to dress like that all the time, 24/7. The only problem would be the onlookers gawking over your beauty, plus he knew you'd be against it anyways. A man can only dream.

Anyway, your thoughts soon came to a halt as you suddenly wondered to yourself, where the heck was your boyfriend? He was here with you during the early day, bathing in the sun, playing few games, swimming together. But as you look to both your sides seeing empty water, and Rafayel's beach cabana empty. You can't even hear him, and you were starting to get a bit anxious.

The last time you heard his voice before relaxing on top of the ocean, was that he'll be right back. That he was going to get something before returning to you. That was seven minutes ago

You didn't know what he was trying to do or get at, but it shouldn't take that long...right?

"Rafayel!?"

You called out as your body was still floating above the water. You hear nothing, no reply back. The only sounds were the wind blowing through some trees, and the swishing of the ocean underneath you.

"Where is he? He didn't ditch me...did he?"

You bite your lip, eyes staring up at the sky with a narrowed glare. Your throat emitting an annoyed groan as another minute passes on.

"He wouldn't...I bet he's scheming something...I can feel it..."

You quiet yourself to hear anything, anything at all. You didn't know why but you had a gut feeling that something was not up. You heart starts to pick up, making you feel on edge. Another minute of calm silence stresses you out as you shake your head.

"Okay that's it! I'm done waiting around, where the hell-AAH!!"

Before you could even get up and search for Rafayel, a strong hand starts to wrap around your legs, while the other hand made its way to your back. The mysterious person picked up from the water, holding you close. You're still screaming in horror at the sudden action, squirming in this person's arms, wondering how a stranger wandered into Rafayel's beach. But all those screams die down as you see your mischievous boyfriend with that annoying grin of his as he stared down at you. His whole-body drench with water, droplets from his hair landing onto your chest.

Rafayel then leans into your neck with rampant amounts of kisses. You sputter out nonsense as he continues to do this before leaning away to give you a sly wink.

"Hey princess, didn't miss me too much did ya~?"

"R-Rafayel! What! Why! You...jerk!"

Your terror went to confusion, which went to anger as you grabbed at his cheeks. Shaking his head with so much frustration causing the man to yelp himself getting away from your attack.

"Okay okay! I'm sorry, stop shaking me! You don't want me to drop you, do ya?"

You stop shaking him, but your pout still remains of your face as your arms were crossed against your chest.

"Where were you?"

"I wasn't that far away, just down below the reefs to find this."

Rafayel hand that was on your back reveals on your side a beautiful conch seashell. The outside a shiny iridescent silver refection, with the sun's rays, you could see the tiny rainbows reflected around the surface. On the inside material was a light violet color, its smooth base glittering, drops of water tracing the shell as if they were pearls. This was indeed beautiful shell, one that Rafayel motioned for you to take into your hands which you did. Your fingertips trace the patterns of the conch shell; it was the size of your palm.

"Isn't it beautiful, thought I find the most extravagant shell I can find, for the most extravagant woman here.

You didn't say anything, as you could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a bit silly for worrying so much. Feeling embarrassed how the thought of him being underwater was a possibility. You look away from him, clutching the shell close to your chest.

"...it's pretty..."

Rafayel chuckles leaning in to give you a sweet kiss to your cheek. He starts to walk his way back to the shore.

"I'm sorry for scaring you princess, are you mad at me?"

You sigh, eyes returning to his as you smiled back at him.

"No, just next time bring me with you, I like it when we do things together."

Rafayel kisses your cheeks again, his nose brushing with yours.

"Fully noted. Though, I have to admit, hearing your screams was a lot funnier than I expected, cute even. I might want to hear it again~"

Rafayel stops, the ocean water only encompassing his whole waist. His arms start to get lose around your legs and back. He then teases by swaying you around in his arms, as if he has the nerve to throw you out of his embrace, and into the water harshly. You give him a glare, as you wrapped one arm around his neck securely.

"Don't even try fish boy."

Rafayel could only shiver at your threat, a playful yet nervous grin, as he continues to walk out of the ocean and onto the sandy shore.

════════════════════════════

SYLUS

You got into a fight.

No, not a serious fight where tensions rise in one's relationship that causes problems, no. I mean a petty silly fight that started out as a small disagreement, only to result in the both of you - mostly you - giving each other the silent treatment. Honestly you forgotten what the argument as about. Maybe it was about work life, or maybe it was that you had a bad day, whatever it was it made you pretty stubborn to talk to him. Always avoiding him, giving him sarcastic huffs, turning your head upward like some snotty rich girl. Refusing to acknowledge his presence in a very playful yet still mad stubborn kind of way.

He knows this, and he finds it adorable.

How his kitten is refusing any sort of affection due to one silly argument. Playing hard to get as he tries lure you in with apologies and love, while all you do is turn your head the other way. Like a stranger pushing a bowl of milk to a stray cat as it hisses in retaliation. He found it absolutely cute, but the cuteness soon died down into a slight irritation.

"My you sure are a sight for the eyes girly~"

"Aw thank you."

Sylus scoffed watching the sleezy older man compliment you like some common whore for him to take. He could overhear the whole conversation between you and him through an earpiece the two of you shared. And the more that bastard talk to you, the more upset Sylus got.

You were undercover obviously, gathering personal intel from a powerful criminal the frequented this nightclub in the N109 zone. You told Sylus about it in a very brief manner, expecting to go alone on this but the Onychinus leader came along with you. Because he'll be damned if he didn't, and he was right. He knows that this little argument between you and him was just no more than playful banter between you both, there was no actual problem. He knows inside you had already forgiven him, even though you won't admit it. He liked that aspect of your stubbornness, but now he didn't, because now he has to watch another man talk to you while you laugh and smile at his words - not actually - and he can't even get two words in before you turn away.

It bothered him.

And it bothered him even more when he sees this old man start to get fresh. His dirty hands making their way to your exposed thigh. Making his way up your thigh, a goal to get underneath your short red dress. A dress he had bought for you one time, a dress that he can only undress and feel up underneath.

Yeah, he's had enough of this.

Time to put an end to your game.

You on the other hand were trying so hard not to punch the man in the face. Your face twitching in anger but still acting coy and sweet, swatting the old man 's hand playfully off, giggling, but deep down you were seething. You just wanted to go home with Sylus and end this night quickly. Just a little more info, then you can finally go.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you can see your intimidating boyfriend waltz right up to the private corner where you and your suspect were sitting. He parted the crowd of dancers with ease, his face stone cold and serious, as his red eyes glowered at the scene in front of him. You cursed inside, as Sylus is now right in front of you. His big body looming over yours as you sat nervously.

"Time to go dove."

It was all he said, you were happy he's here. Happy that he came to get you. But at the same time the stubbornness from before rises, now upset at him for blowing your mission. You sat up hands pushing at his chest gently to make him go back, but the man does not bulge an inch.

"What are yo-"

"Hey, were busy here pal."

The elder man then suddenly gets up; he glares at Sylus while bringing you back close to him. His arm and hand wrapped around your waist, making you cringe not liking being this close to the guy. Before you could even say anything, or push this man away, you saw the familiar dark red and black mist of Sylus evol activating around the old man. He grunts in pain, his whole body capsulated by the powerful evol making his hand come off your waist. It crushed him a bit all before he was suddenly thrown back against the leather couch. He let's out a painful groan, as his body sags pathetically.

You watch this, only to gasp loudly yourself as you had found yourself being picked up by Sylus. Your whole body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ass sticking out and your dress ridding up your thighs making you blush heavily.

"Sylus!"

"We're going now."

He simply says before making his way out of the club, parting the shocked crowded of people that witness the embarrassing scene. As if that wasn't enough, Sylus gave your ass a sharp spank to your cheek making you cry out with shock. Your butt wiggling at the stinging - but very pleasurable - slap to your ass. You whine as you cover your face from the lingering eyes, you did this until Sylus makes his way outside the club. His feet stop as he made it to his motorcycle where he had parked it.

"Sylus put me down!"

"I don't think so kitten you're in time out."

"Time out!?"

"Well, until you apologize and say that you won't ignore me. Otherwise, you'll be staying up here for a while~"

Is your boyfriend seriously putting you in air jail until you apologize for ignoring him. You sigh, rubbing your hand on your forehead, cheeks puff out as you try to wiggle out of this. But it was no use, as he held a firm grip on you. His hand running up and down your smooth back thigh, teasing yet comforting. Honestly it felt so much better having his hand on your thigh than that old man's hand. So much better.

"Mmm...sorry..."

"What was that kitten I couldn't hear you."

You can just hear the smirk on his face stretching. It made grumble more, arms crossed as you looked at the ground in defeat.

"I sorry, I won't ignore you anymore...now can you put me down! I'm starting to get dizzy here."

"Seems you have forgotten the magic words that go to that sentence."

You let out a long groan, your body slumping his his hold. You can hear his signature laugh which made you want to just hide away and curl up into a little ball. With man was going to be the death of you with his endless teasing.

"Please put me down."

Sylus lets out a hum of approval before setting you back down on the cement ground. You stumble a bit on your heels before looking up at him flustered. He grins down at you, eyes racking every part of your body making you feel so small. He raises a hand to caress your cheek affectionately. Sylus then leans down to give your lips a brief but passionate kiss on your glossed lips. You close your eyes leaning in gor more. All those times ignoring his advances made you realize just how touched starved you are with this man.

He pulls away, which made you whine - he definitely heard - moving to near towards your ear. Making you shiver feeling his breath against your skin lightly.

"Good girl, now let's get back home so we can make up properly. You kept avoiding me for so long, it's about time I take my well-deserved fill~"

════════════════════════════

CALEB

"Hmm...where are you pipsqueak?!"

A goofy smile made it to your face as you hide behind a tree from Caleb. Your back against the wide tree, looking over to see Caleb walking along the glassy fields slowly with a grin stretching his lips. Heart pounding in your chest at the prospect of getting caught by him. You try as much to stifle your own laugher or breaths as he inches closer to where you were.

It was a very bright warm day today, Caleb suggested going out and taking a nice walk around the park meadows nearby. You agreed to this and spent your whole day with Caleb as you walked around the park. Passing by kids who run along the sidewalk or hanged around the jungle gym. Food venders who you defiantly stop by, grabbing something to eat with their delicious food. And couples ranging from your age to elderly ones that sat on benches complimenting you and Caleb and your youth.

It was a very peaceful day.

Once you guys made it to the widespread meadow, you couldn't help but feel a bit playful with him. Before he could even say anything, you start to run away from him, taunting about how he couldn't catch you. Making Caleb grin with amusement and run right after you. The both of you laughing and giggling like little kids. It felt so cliche yet wholesome at the same time running after each other in a field of flowers. It was moments like these that Caleb treasures the most, just having so much fun with you, seeing the look of happiness on your face.

"[Y/N]! You can't hide forever."

You hear Caleb call out, but you didn't respond, as you were still hiding behind the tree you picked out. You slid down the tree into a kneeling crouch, staying as quiet as you could so he couldn't hear. You can hear the faint steps of shoes crunching on the grassy ground come closer and closer. Your heart pounding heavily inside your chest, until suddenly you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore.

You wait a few moments and still you couldn't hear Caleb, nor did he call out again. It was silent, too silent.

You got up from crouching and turn yourself around to look around the tree, seeing no trace of where Caleb was. This caused your heart to skip in fear. You curse inside your head before backing away, knowing Caleb probably would jump out and likely find where you are. You had to get out of there quickly.

And so you do back away.

Right into Calebs chest.

His lips right next your ear, with and evil smirk stretching across his lips.

"Gotcha~"

"Aah!"

Before you know it, his hands grappled your waist, immediately going into a full-on tickle fight. His fingers digging into your sides, tickling you with no mercy whatsoever. You laugh, tears pricking your eyes as you try to move away from his assault. But no, this boy had an iron hold on you.

"Caleb! Haha...w-wait nooo~!"

"After running from me, this is your punishment pipsqueak~"

You whine and moan trying to find a way to get out of this situation. It wasn't until you both found yourself on the ground where you had found an opportunity. His body towered over yours as he stops tickling you for a moment, watching as you trying to catch your breath. The moment you do was the moment you striked, as your hands were placed upon his shoulders. Pushing him over onto the grass with you straddling his waist.

"Ha! Take that!"

Caleb laughs grinning with playful mischief.

"The games not over yet babe!"

His hands are on your waist again as he then tackles you back down, rolling you onto the grass while he was right above you again. Your shock face turns into determination, taking that as a challenge. You roll over him again to pin him down, and he does the same. The both of you laughing about as the two of your rolled along the meadow, trying to pin one another.

It wasn't until Calbe gets dizzy that he stops this. Forcefully manhandling you down with much ease. His hands now pinning your wrists above your head. He pants heavily, looking down at you with his own victorious smile; his looming presence shadows your own body. You try to wiggle away with no avail, Caleb having too much of a hold on you. No match for his ridiculous amount of strength.

"Give up?"

You grunt before letting out a long sigh, head dropping on ground hair messy as well as your clothes. It was a simple pair of jean shorts and [F/C] shirt. He was messy as well, you can see a few grass strands cling to his body, shirt, and pants. A few specks of dirt here and there. His hair was messy, his dog tag necklace dangling above you. You can feel your cheeks heat up, defeated and embarrassed.

You grumble to yourself, looking away from his lingering gaze which made him chuckle. Thinking just how cute you were pinned beneath him, it made his heart flutter.

"Fine, I give up.

Caleb hums, "Good."

He leans down to kiss your lips making your eyes widen but lean into the kiss anyway. He pulls away only to cover your entire face with kisses, causing you to giggle from his cute actions. He continues to do this, even going down to your neck which made you chuckle even more.

Caleb then sighs blissfully in between you neck and shoulder.

He stops and let's go of your wrists, only for him to put his full body weight on top of you. His head laying on your chest nuzzling you, his eyes closed as he basks in this moment the two of you shared.

"Agh, Caleb your heavy...get off~"

"Hmm...nah, let's stay like this for a little while more..."

He says this holding you close like you were so teddy bear. You sigh as you look up at the clear blue sky, feeling the cool wind on your face making you feel a bit drowsy yourself. Your hands wrapped around his head, hands threading through his dark brown locks. Nails scratching his scalp making him groan, burring his head more into your chest.

Everything felt so peaceful and calm in that very moment.

That is until something shifts and prods against your mid-thigh.

"Uh...Caleb?"

"Sorry squeaks, you can't really blame me here."

════════════════════════════

XAVIER

He got a call from Tara.

Saying something about helping her with you in the mix of things, it sounded urgent. So of course, Xavier immediately got up to go over to where you were. You told Xavier that you were going out with Tara and Simone for a girl's night out. Just a simple date with the crew, drinking and some karaoke. He smiles to this, saying to be careful and have fun, giving you a kiss as he watched you head out.

And now he watches as you were singing your heart out to some random song, standing on top of a table, microphone in hand, as you slur the lyrics to the song badly. He watched this drunk you in action with amusement but worry. Tara was also there watching the hilarious scene, but she was sat next to Simone who was also heavily drunk, cheering you on with slurred "Whoos", her eyes barely open. Tara was holding her up as she was slumped against the couch, trying to get her to drink water.

"It's been like this for an hour; can you take care of [Y/N]. I have to get Simone back to her place; it's a bit far."

Xavier nods his head, "Yeah, I'll take care of her. You go on ahead."

Tara nods and she gets up bring Simone on her feet. She wobbles and whines about how she wants to stay more, but Tara declines that. She had already called a taxi to come pick them up. Both exit the room, leaving just you and Xavier. You didn't even know Xavier was in the room, to focused on the song at hand.

That was until Xavier grabbed the remote and paused the karaoke game on the tv, the room now silent, making you groan and turn to him. There was a pout on your face, but it soon turned to a goofy smile as you saw your boyfriend was here.

"Xaaavier, your here!"

You lifted up your arms joyfully making Xavier chuckle.

"[Y/N] what are you doing?"

You laugh.

"I'm singing obviously, duuh, c-come on up...and sing with meee~"

You start to dance on top of the table, making it wobble. And Xavier catches this, worried about your well-being.

"I think you done enough singing for today angel, how about we go home."

You turn to him with a sad pout.

"What? Nooo...the night is young just one more song pleeeease~"

"You're drunk [Y/N], you have to come home."

Your head shakes, as you crossed your arms like a child.

"How dare you good sir, I'm not drunk...can a drunk person dance like this!"

You then dance terribly on top of the table, limbs moving carelessly in the air, your skirt flowing with every movement of your hips. Xavier sees this and shakes his head with a laugh exiting his lips. He found this adorable; you completely wasted dancing like nobody watching. It almost made him wish he had his phone to record this silly moment of you.

But his amusement turned into worry as he saw the table wobbling again, this time more frequently.

"[Y/N], how about we get down-"

"No way party pooper, I'm not fini-"

The table buckled violently underneath you, causing you to stumble and fall. The microphone in your hand falling out and onto the floor with a loud thud. You gasp, heart pounding in your chest as you felt the scary sensation of falling. But Xavier being the quick person he is caught you just in time. His arms wrapped around your waist securely, as you had wrapped your arms around his neck. Xavier made your legs wrap around his waist, his hands holding your thighs so you wouldn't go anywhere. Your body was shaking from the frightening fall, sobering you up just a bit.

"Uhm...you know what...your right...I should probably get home...yeah."

You said as you try to calm your frantic heart, clinging onto Xavier like a life preserver. You can hear him chuckle at your words in your ear, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. He doesn't say anything but walk over to grab an un-open bottled water for you and your purse. His one hand still carrying you with no struggle. You can feel your heats heat up in embarrassment, as you and Xavier walked out of the karaoke room. A few passersby's watching confused at the situation.

You moan, hiding your face in his neck, you can feel the chill air of the night as Xavier walks out the building.

"Here, drink."

Xavier orders you to drink the water, presenting it to you. You grab the bottle, unscrewing the cap before taking a nice swig of water down your throat. One hand was wrapped around his neck while the other clutched the bottle, groaning at the cool refreshing water. Xavier continued to walk down the sidewalk, his hands clutching underneath your thighs that still was wrapped around his waist. You stop drinking the water when done, the liquid reaching the bottom of the bottle, as it was almost finished. You let out a long sigh, resting your head on Xavier's shoulder.

"Feeling a bit better?"

"Mhm..."

You mumbled with a yawn. There was silence between you two as Xavier continued to walk with you still in his arms. You can still feel the embarrassment still lingering in your cheeks. Your boyfriend seeing your dance ridiculously while also carrying you like a child. You can see a few more people walk along the sidewalk seeing this embarrassing situation you've gotten yourself in. You wiggle in Xavier's tight grasp he has on you. His manhandling on you getting to your head, but he doesn't care as he holds on to you tightly not wanting to let you go.

"Y-You know you can set me down now, I can walk."

Xavier smiles shaking his head. He leans into your neck giving you sweet butterfly kisses all before he nips at your neck with his teeth. Causing you to gasp and whine more, face hotter than before.

"No, I think I'll hold you till we get back. Who knows what will happen if I let you go. You might just climb up one of these lamp posts and start dancing~"

"Xaaavier.."

Yeah, you had a feeling he'd hold this over you for a while.

════════════════════════════

ZAYNE

"Are you going to wear those?"

That's the question Zayne asked you firsthand. Seeing you place on a pair of nice heels on. Heels that were a little higher than the normal pair of heels you would usually wear to a formal event. The two of you were going out to a fancy gathering with some of Zayne's collogues. There was a plus one, and Zayne asked if you had wanted to accompany him to which you had said yes. Knowing that he finds you company to these certain event barrable then if he had gone alone.

You looked up at him with a coy smile stretched across your lips. You hand leaving your feet as you just finished placing the second heel on your right foot. You stand up giving him a good spin around, showcasing your beautiful outfit to him. A long silver dress, your hair up in a tight bun, earrings, a necklace, and those high heels.

"What? The heels? You don't like them?"

Zayne doesn't say anything, only starting down at the shiny silver heels you wore. He adjusts his tie on his tux, as his body was facing a bedroom mirror.

"They're a bit higher than what you normally wear my love."

You get what he was saying to you, that these heels were too much. How he was worried you'd be too uncomfortable all throughout the evening wearing them. Getting yourself hurt making it unbearable to walk. But you were too confident and stubborn, thinking nothing of it when putting on these heels. You looked too good in your outfit, and these heels topped it off, you figured you could handle them.

"Yeah, but I can handle them perfectly see."

You walked like a model on a runway, showing him how you were comfortable with these heels on your feet. You then turn to him with a playful smirk, a hand on your hips.

"See, easy no need to worry I'm fine."

Zayne cocks a brow up as he looks at you for a moment, as if scanning your expressions. He then sighs rolling his eyes back over to the mirror he was facing, checking out his appearance for the final time.

"Alright then, don't come complaining to me when your feet are in agony."

You puff your cheeks at him, sticking your tongue out playfully.

"Oh please! I'm stronger than I look, I bet I can even last the whole night!"

Zayne lets out a small huff of a laugh, while shaking his head, a small but all-knowing grin curling the corner of his lips.

"I know you're strong honey, c'mon it's about time we head out."

And that's where are story leads us, to you sitting on an expensive couch in a private room with Zayne. Your legs and feet propped up on Zayne's lap as his rough hands massaged the soles of your feet. His suit jacket was off, as the sleeves of his black dress blazer was rolled up to his elbows showing his scars. You were dramatically laying back against the couch's armrest, letting out pitiful groans and whines. Your head was tilt back to the decorative ceiling; the feeling of Zayne's hands massage you making you sigh with relief.

Thirty minutes.

Once you reached the thirty-minute mark of wearing those heels, began the intense pain that came after it. You tried your best to stifle the pain away, tried to grin your best smile while taking to many of Zanye's collogues. But the searing pain of those damn heels digging into your skin, making your feet sore with every second. The constant ache with every step you took. Hell, you even stumbled a bit which made people question if you're okay which was embarrassing. It wasn't until you actually stumble and fall into you boyfriend's arms that you knew you were done.

Here was your boyfriend, guiding you to a private room away from the massive party of onlookers. Guiding you gently to the couch so you can sit. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to say anything because you already know what's going through his mind.

"I guessing this is the part where you say I told you so."

Zayne chuckles at your pouty tone. Even with your disgruntled appearance he still finds you absolutely gorgeous. One of his hands ran up and down your legs, your dress ridding up a bit, as his hands made contact with your thigh causing you to shiver. He gives you thigh a good squeeze before lifting your right foot up, making you quirk an eyebrow at him. But it soon went away when his lips pressed a chaste kiss against your ankle. Giving you a good number of kisses till he reached about twelve.

"I wouldn't stoop to such lows my beloved."

He speaks sending a painfully blissful pressure point to your bottom foot causing you to whimper. God, when it came to massages, he was so great at them, always manhandling your body, subduing you into a messy puddle.

"But I will say next time please don't compromise your own health just because of some fashionable clothes, okay?"

You look up at him, seeing his gentle expression towards you. Your heart flickers, giving him small smile back.

"Okay...sorry for cutting the party short."

"No apologies needed, I wasn't really focused on it anyway...now-"

Zayne had placed your legs and feet aside before standing up from the couch. He then gets his suit jacket and places it along your shoulders. He gets your heels in one hand, before wrapping his left arm around you to pick you up. You gasp in shock, wrapping your arms around your neck as he picks you up, one hand with ease. He gives you a smirk, making your cheeks flush and stomach twist.

"-Let's get you back home so I can take care of you."

"B-But wait! What about the others? Seeing me like this in your arms?"

Zayne only walks back to the door that led you to the private room, his right hand the held your heels operating to twist the door handle.

"I'll just say I'm tending to my dear patient who's in need of my assistance~"

And that's exactly what he said, though a big portion of embarrassment still resided inside you as you were carried away. All because a pair of some stupid heels.

════════════════════════════

#love and deepspace #fanfiction #headcanons #rafayel x reader #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #fluff

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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Text

wake up in the mornin' and to your smell - r.c (+18)

pairing: kelce's!sister x hockey!rafe warnings: SMUT. request: Can we pls get more parts for brothers bsf!rafe where it’s the morning after ans they did it GOOD and she’s all shy n stuff bcz duh she might act all tough but w him it’s different and he’s enjoying it sm

It was the first time you woke up with him.

The first thing you noticed wasn’t the soreness between your thighs or the warmth of the sheets twisted around your torso.

Not even the ache between your hips, which was almost overshadowed by the memory of how it got there. Just the quiet movement of his chest beside you, the peaceful rhythm of Rafe Cameron sleeping soundly in your bed.

You should’ve slipped out, wrapped yourself in the hoodie you left draped over your desk chair, and padded to the bathroom before he stirred. Maybe taken a second to fix your hair—because, of course, you’d passed out without twisting your hair up, without so much as reaching for your bonnet.

But instead, you stayed in place, blinking up at the ceiling, hoping it would offer some kind of answer as to what you’re supposed to do next.

Because, technically, this wasn’t new.

The sneaking around, it had been happening for weeks, months, maybe. You’d had sex everywhere except a bed. His car, your car, the locker room after practice, the laundry room at a party, once against a tree at some bonfire neither of them even remembers the reason for.

But never, never in a bed, never in your dorms, never somewhere where you had to face the aftermath. Usually, once you were done, you went back to class, or to a party, or Rafe went back to practice.

No lingering.

The first time you “slept” with him, the bench had been hard against your back, his hands bruising against your skin, the faint sound of his teammates approaching outside the door making the whole thing feel forbidden.You’d been half-dressed, your skirt rucked up, and he’d dropped his towel on the floor.

But this—waking up next to him, in sheets that still smell like him, watching the curve of his mouth as he breathed deeply in his sleep—this was new. And you didn’t know what to do with it.

You shifted slightly, meaning to turn away, and get some distance between yourself and his overheating body, but the movement made him stir.

You winced as his arm tightened around your waist instinctively, tugging you back against his chest. “Mmm, don’t do that,” his lips brushed against your shoulder.

“Do what?” you whispered back.

His palm pressed against your hip, thumb stroking over your skin in a slow ticklish pattern. “Move away from me like you’re tryna escape.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes even as your heart pounded like you were twelve all over again. “I’m not trying to escape.”

“Good,” he murmured, lips pressing softly against your shoulder again before he nuzzled into the crook of your neck like it was his second nature.

Rafe was acting like you two woke up like this all the time as if this wasn’t something you were going to overthink the second you got out of bed.

That was the thing about him, he’d always been good at making you feel like you didn’t have to think so much.

Always knew how to tease you out of your head, and used it against you every chance he got.

Like when his hand skimmed lower, fingers grazing beneath the curve of your waist. “How are you so pretty in the morning?”

You blinked at him. Then blinked again.

“Shut the hell up.”

Rafe laughed, unbothered, he knew how much you hated that kind of shit. Which, of course, he did. This was Rafe, and he loved saying things he knew would make you flustered.

“I’m serious. Look at you.”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “My hair looks crazy.”

“So?” He didn’t agree or pretend to entertain the idea.

“So?” you scoffed, shifting to finally turn and face him properly. “I look like I got…”

“Fucked?” Rafe grinned wider. “Yeah, ‘cause I did that.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You sore?” he asked teasing, his voice dipping in that lazy amusement that always made you want to smack him and kiss him at the same time.

Sore was an understatement; it was all his fault.

“I can’t stand you,” you muttered childishly, nudging your elbow back against his ribs, but he just laughed.

All you wanted was to groan at how much you loved the sound.

As if he wasn’t already too much—too pretty, too talented, he just had to be the best you’d ever had. He knew what he was doing and dared to be hung like that too. God had favorites, and clearly, you were one of them.

“That’s a yes,” he drawled, sounding too pleased with himself.

You let out an exasperated sigh, fighting against the warmth creeping up your back. “You’re so fuckin’ annoying.”

“And yet, here I am,” he pointed out, smug as ever, and when you don’t have a comeback fast enough for the first time in your life, he chuckled again.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed, burying your face in your pillow to hide the involuntary grin taking over your expression.

“Yeah?” His hand moved again, fingers slipping beneath the covers to pinch at your thigh, making you jolt slightly. “That why you were moanin’ my name last night?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh right, that was screamin’.”

You groaned, reaching back to swat at him blindly, but he just laughed again, catching your wrist before you could do any real damage.

Rafe always made it impossible. You huffed against the pillow, stubbornly avoiding his gaze even as he tugged at your wrist, pulling you back into him with that ridiculous grin you hated to love.

“Shut up,” you muttered, voice muffled against the fabric.

He pressed a third kiss to your shoulder, a little less teasing, and you hated how much you wanted to turn and kiss him back.

“A little higher pitched, but you’re almost there.”

“Get out.”

His hand brushed up your thigh, his palm rough against your skin. “But I’m so comfortable here.”

“That makes one of us.”

Rafe just scoffed, his mouth trailing lazily up your neck until his nose nudged behind your ear. “Yeah? You debatin’ it right now?”

You hated the way he sounded, all amused like he already knew the answer. Mostly because he did. You sucked in a breath, willing your body to behave, but it was useless when his fingers kept moving, grazing over your hip in a way that made you want to melt.

You exhaled sharply, finally turning your head to glare at him. It didn’t have the effect you wanted. He was looking at you like that, all sleepy-eyed, hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he belonged in your bed.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Your fingers twitched against the sheets, tempted to reach up, run through his hair. But that wasn’t part of the deal. There were rules to this. No overthinking.

Rafe’s thumb skimmed up your ribs, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. His eyes flickered over your face. Then, his lips curled into that shit-eating grin that made you want to strangle him.

“Didn’t know you could bend like that.”

Nevermind, you were going to knock him out with a hockey stick.

“Rafe.”

He just grinned wider, “How come you never told me you had that in you?"

You shoved at his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“What? Just sayin'. Damn. You been hidin' that from me?” His fingers slid lazily up your arm.“If I had known you were that flexible, I woulda put you in a headlock weeks ago.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You like it enough,” he shot back, smirking “You just mad ‘cause now I know you can do all that, and I’m gonna be expectin’ it every time.”

You smacked his arm, but that only made him chuckle, burying his face in your neck as his teeth scraped playfully over your skin.

“You’re so annoying,” you repeated the insult, trying to scoot away, but he pulled you back in, his arm locking around your waist.

“Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your jaw. “That why you were beggin’yesterday?”

You scoffed, horrified, but he was already laughing, ducking out of the way before you could slap him again, “If anyone was begging, it was you.”

His eyes lit up as he looked down at you. “Shit, you got me there. Matter of fact... might beg now too.”

“I have class in thirty,” you reminded him.

He pouted, brows furrowing like a kicked puppy. “I just need ten minutes.”

“No.”

His lips brushed against yours, voice dropping into that dangerous, coaxing drawl. “Five?”

“Rafe.”

He was already nudging your thighs apart with his, hard as rock, sliding in between—not putting in, just coating himself in your arousal and rocking a little back and forth, luring you in. Both of you moaned, loud and shameless, like sluts, and you would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t sound just as needy as you felt.

Your brain turned to mush the second you felt him.

“Rafe,” you warned again, but it was weak.

He groaned against your neck. “Two?”

He didn't wait for an answer—he never did. Just kept teasing, gliding his cock through your slick folds, the weight of him pressing and sliding just enough to make you squirm.

"C’mon, lemme make you feel good before class. Promise I’ll be quick."

Liar.

Rafe’s fingers dug into your hip, holding you in place while he moved, then, he hiked your leg up, throwing it over his hip like he had all the time in the world, spreading you wider so he could slide even messier, wetter, the thick head of him catching at your clit in a way that made your stomach drop to the bottom of the ocean.

You shuddered, nails digging into his bulky forearm. "You're such a fucking—"

"Yeah?" He cut you off with a lazy grin, pressing harder this time, drawing out the friction just to watch your face twist. "Finish that sentence."

You couldn't.

“Not fair,” you murmured against his mouth, as he rolled his hips. His other hand was already trailing up, palm greedy as he squeezed a handful of your tit, thumb brushing over your nipple just to watch it pebble up. You arched into his touch, biting back a moan as he saw right through it.

He always did.

"That's what I thought," Rafe hummed, smug, dipping his head to bite at your jaw. His grip tightened, keeping you right where he wanted you, even if he knew you wouldn’t try to move away now. He nudged forward again, getting himself soaked. "So fuckin’ wet for me and I haven’t even put it in yet."

It was humiliating how easily he could wreck you, turn you into a desperate, panting mess with nothing but his cock sliding over you and that voice dripping in amusement.

He knew it, too. The smirk was still plastered on his face when he reached up, cradling your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Look at you," he murmured, lips hovering over yours, close enough to steal your breath but refusing to kiss you.

You swallowed hard, but before you could bite back, he crashed his mouth against yours, all tongue, swallowing your moan as he rutted against you, grinding dirty, making sure you felt every inch of him.

Then he pulled back, enough to pant against your lips, his forehead pressing against yours as he grinned. "Still got that class in thirty?"

You shifted, meaning to push him away, to sit up—anything that wasn’t this. But the way you arched, the way your hips tilted just right—

“Oh, shit—”

He slipped inside, easy, smooth, like your body was made for him, exactly where he was meant to be. You both froze, inhaling sharply at the sudden stretch, the obscene wetness letting him sink all the way in, with no resistance.

Rafe swore under his breath, hands gripping your hips, physically restraining himself, if he so much as twitched, it’d be over.

“The way you just—fuck.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, body pulsing around him, stomach twisting at the way he sounded, completely blindsided. He let out a shuddering breath, swallowing hard.

“You’re fuckin’ unreal.”

Your lips curled. “Might be.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, then laughed, hoarsely. “Dream girl.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

He didn’t say things like that. He flirted a shit ton, he teased, he riled you up until you were too frustrated to do anything but fall into him, but he didn’t say things that stuck. You’d overthink about it later, the words already buried deep into your brain like a splinter.

You whimpered into his mouth, fingers flying to his hair, twisting, nails scraping against his scalp, and he groaned.

You felt everything.

Lazy, filthy, perfect.

His lips found your jaw, then your throat, hands slipping up to cup your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples as he rocked into you again. He had you right where he wanted you, and he fucking knew it. Rafe moved his hips a little faster, testing, and you both gasped at the way you clenched down around him.

He groaned, rough against your throat. "You gotta stop doin' that."

You fluttered around him on purpose.

He cursed, pulling back just enough to thrust shallowly, teasing himself through your hole. Your nails raked down his back, and he fucking shuddered, breath hot against your jaw.

His hand trailed up your side, skimming over your ribs before wrapping around your throat—not squeezing, only reminding you that he had you, that you let him have you.

"You keep clenchin' up like that, I'm gonna think you don’t really wanna go to class." His thumb brushed your pulse, feeling how it skipped beneath his touch.

You swallowed hard, heat curling in your stomach. "I don’t."

"Fuckin' knew it."

His other hand slipped under your thigh, gripping hard as he tilted your hips up, changing the angle until you chocked on your own breath, making sure you felt the thick, heady sweep of him, filling you up in a way that made your toes curl, your head falling back against the pillow.

"Right there?" Rafe teased, breathless.

You nodded, barely able to do anything but take it. "Rafe—"

"Fuck," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "You feel so good. So warm."

He hummed, a soft, knowing sound, skimming his lips along your jawline, open-mouthed kisses, drawn-out, until his teeth scraped over your pulse.

“More," you pleaded, voice soft, almost shy. "Kiss me."

His lips parted, but instead, he exhaled sharply.

"You ask so sweet," his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth. "How’m I supposed to say no to that?"

He rocked into you again, lazy and deep, kissing you like he had nowhere else to be, every inch of him pressed against you, surrounding you, smothering you in the best way. His fingers slipped between yours, tangling your hands together over your head.

You shivered. It was too much—the way he sounded, the way he touched you, the way he was looking at you. He your shoulder, biting down gently, sucking another mark into your skin.

"You’re gonna be late," he murmured, amused.

You let out a breathless laugh, tilting your head back, giving him more room. "Don’t care."

"Yeah?" He nudged his nose against your cheek, "That why you’re fuckin' dripping all over my cock?"

Rafe fucking ruined you.

There was no other way to put it.

You weren’t thinking, weren’t even capable of forming a single coherent thought, just a mess beneath him—babbling, body pliant as he rocked into you. You were taking every inch, stretched around him perfectly, your cunt gripping him like you never wanted to let go. And at this point, you didn’t.

“Ohhh, fuck,” you gasped, nails scraping over his broad shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Rafe watched you with blown, lazy eyes. “That all you got for me?”

He dragged himself out unhurriedly, just to push back in deeper, and your back arched, head spinning at the obscene wet sounds between your bodies, at the way you could feel every ridge, every thick vein.

“Rafe,” you whined, voice breaking. Your brain was gone, absolutely fucking fried, your mouth running on autopilot. “S’too much—feels so—”

“Yeah?”

You nodded weakly, breath hitching as he tilted his hips, hitting that devastating spot inside you that made your thighs shake. Rafe swore under his breath, his grip bruising as he pushed your knee up to your chest, forcing himself even deeper.

“That why you’re all quiet, huh?”

You let out a broken moan, fingers digging into his biceps. “Can’t think—fuck, can’t think when you fuck me like this.”

And fuck—fuck—you’d be embarrassed if every time he sank in, his pelvis wasn’t pressed flush against your clit, pushing against the swollen little bud right, sending shocks of pleasure straight through your body. He pushed his hips deeper, grinding against you just to watch your mouth drop open.

“That right?” he cooed, “More?”

“Yes,” you huffed, so brainless, completely under his spell. “Yes, yes, just—just wanna, please—”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe choked out, his rhythm stuttering. “You tryin’ to make me come?”

You’d never begged before, never once—not with anyone else. Sex had always been good, sure. You liked it, and enjoyed it, but you’d never been desperate for it.

Until him.

You let out the filthiest whimper, hands fisting the sheets, breath stuttering as your hips jerked up, chasing that friction, that perfect, devastating pressure. He moaned at the way you writhed against him, at the way your cunt clenched around him, pulsing, sucking him in like you never wanted him to leave.

His head dropped into your shoulder, gripping your hips tight to keep you still as he slammed into you again, making sure to press down, his pubic bone tickling against your clit in slow, filthy circles. You cried out, nails biting into his back, desperate, mindless, your hips lifting to meet every taunting thrust.

This wasn’t fucking, it was something else entirely.

“Say it again.”

Your brows furrowed. “Say what?”

He licked your lips, smirking against your skin. “Say please.”

Heat flushed through you, an embarrassing, all-consuming need curling in your stomach. You panted, licking your swollen lips, barely able to keep your eyes open as his hands never stopped moving. Sliding up your body, tracing the dip of your waist, rolling your nipple between his fingers just to hear you whimper.

You swallowed hard, your pride already flushed down the toilet, which never mattered when he was looking at you like that.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, his tone all sweet. “You can do better than that.”

“Please,” you choked out, every ounce of shame dissolving into nothing, “Please, Rafe, don’t stop.”

He groaned, long and guttural, pulling his cock out leisurely before slamming back in, punching a moan from your throat.

“Can’t stop,” he murmured against your throat, lips worshiping your skin, tongue flicking out to taste. “Fuckin’ impossible.”

His thrusts never picked up, it was excruciating. His forehead was pressed against yours now, breath hot and heavy between you, both of you panting into the same space.

You whimpered, fingers twisting into his hair, pulling hard enough to make his eyes flutter shut for a second, jaw going slack, but then they snapped open again—blue and blown out, locked onto yours, because you knew he needed to watch you fall apart beneath him.

He tilted his head then, licking his lips as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a painfully wet kiss. His tongue swept along yours, lazily. You whined into his mouth, and he swallowed it, groaning in his throat.

He wasn’t fucking you—he was pressing into you, as deep as humanly possible.

His tongue curled around yours, sucking, licking, all spit and heat, but neither of you cared. His lips lingered against yours, before he pulled back just an inch—just enough to let a thin string of saliva stretch between your mouths.

Your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips, but Rafe didn’t let you escape. His hand was on your jaw instantly, forcing you to look at him.

"Nuh-uh," he murmured, his nose brushing yours, "Stay with me. Keep lookin’ at me."

His tongue flicked out, running over your swollen bottom lip, tasting the wet heat of your breath before he skimmed his teeth along it, teasing. His lips wrapped around your tongue, pulling it into his mouth, sucking. He groaned deep in his throat at the taste of you, at the way you let him, at how fucking eager you were, melting into him with a desperate little cry. Your lips were slick, your chins wet, when he finally pulled back, panting, but you were already chasing his again.

“More."

Rafe groaned, tipping your chin up with his thumb, eyes heavy-lidded as he dragged his tongue up the side of yours, before sucking it back into his mouth. He fucked into you deep, making sure you felt everything as he swallowed your whole fucking soul.

"Mmmm,” rasped against your lips, voice shaking. "You’re so fuckin’ sweet. Could do this forever."

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his breathing ragged as he rocked into you, as if his only purpose in life was to keep you filled.

“God,” he murmured, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe “You feel that?”

You could only garble in response, your fingers digging into his back, pretty nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. Of course, you felt it—how could you not? Every thick inch of him dragged against that devastating spot inside you, over and over, stretching you enough to make you tremble but never giving you enough to push you over the edge. He was torturing you with how good it felt.

He hummed, his lips curling as he brushed his nose against yours. “Can’t even talk, huh?”

You tried—you really did. But all that came out was a soft, breathless squeak, your head tilting back against the pillow. Rafe caught your cheeks before you could look away again.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, his voice deep, “Wanna hear you.” He punctuated his words with another sluggish thrust, and your entire body shuddered. A high, needy sound slipped from your lips, and his pupils blew wide. “Shit, there it is.”

His hand slipped down your body, before his palm settled low on your stomach, pressing down—light at first, then firmer, right where he was inside you. Your breath hitched, the pressure making your walls flutter around him. His cock twitched in response, and he swore under his breath, hips stuttering for the first time since he started.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shaking his head. “You feel me?”

You nodded weakly, breath catching in your throat.

“That’s me,” he rasped. “Deep as I can go.”

Your entire body clenched around him, and Rafe let out a ragged moan, dropping his forehead on your chest.

“You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he panted.

You barely had the strength to smirk, but you managed. “M-Maybe that’s the plan.”

His mouth was right there, so close, and then—his breath fanned over the swell of your breast before he latched on, tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking hard, deep. A shaky sound escaped you, fingers flying to his neck, pulling, making him groan against your skin.

"Rafe—"

He hummed, satisfied, sucking again, harder this time, his hips rolling forward in tandem with the wet pull of his mouth. You pressed yourself further into his mouth, and he could only sigh at the way you offered yourself up so easily, so desperate for more, his tongue laving over your sensitive skin before moving to the other, giving it the same attention. He licked and sucked, as he murmured against you.

“Could stay right here all fucking day,” he whispered, kissing over your breast between words, his hand slipping up to squeeze the other. "Right here—fuck—just like this."

Your thighs tightened around him, your whole body buzzing, over-sensitive, overstimulated, yet still somehow desperate for more. His tongue flicked over your nipple again before he pulled away to watch the way it pebbled under his breath.

Rafe’s hands never stopped moving or touching—tracing yearning circles over your arms, cupping your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your pebbled nipples, just because he knew how much it made you shudder. He smeared open-mouthed kisses over your chest, up your throat, tasting the sweat on your skin. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never fully kissing you, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

Your hands slid up his arms, over his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingers until they found their way into his hair.

You tugged for the millionth time that morning, making him grunt.

His lips feathered against your jaw, “Keep pulling like that and I won’t last.”

You couldn’t get enough, couldn’t feel enough, no matter how close he was, it still wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Let me,” you panted against his lips, licking into his mouth between words. “Wanna be on top.”

Rafe’s eyes fluttered open, lips slick and pink from sucking at your skin. His fingers flexed against your waist, jaw clenching at the need in your voice, you were already trying to move, to take control.

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, a little desperate. His hands slid down, gripping your ass as he rolled onto his back, bringing you with him.

The second you were straddling him, you let out a shaky breath, feeling how deep he was like this, how he stretched you just right, the angle hitting something devastating.

Rafe smirked, hands already running up your thighs, gripping, kneading the flesh, watching the way you trembled above him. He let his head drop back against the headboard as you ground down experimentally, testing.

You pressed both hands against his broad chest, feeling his heartbeat hammering against your palm. His body was burning beneath yours, and god, the way he looked—his hair disheveled from your fingers, his lips swollen, it was making you delirious.

You needed more.

You started moving, deep rolls of your hips, letting him stroke against every aching, sensitive spot inside you, making you both shudder. Rafe swore under his breath, his grip tightening as his head tipped back, jaw clenched.

“Fuck—just like that,” he groaned, his hands sliding up, thumbs brushing just beneath your chest. “Look so fuckin’ pretty riding me like this.”

You leaned down, grazing your lips over his throat, tasting his skin, feeling the way he shook as you pressed kisses down to his collarbone, licking, biting, marking him up the way he did you.

Rafe’s hands flew to your ass, gripping, rolling you deeper onto his cock, making you gasp against his skin. "You tryin' to fuckin’ ruin me?" He couldn't decide what he wanted more—your hips, your tits, your face. "’Cause it's working."

You whimpered, lifting your hips before sinking down again, making you both gasp. His eyes locked on your face, watching every twitch, shudder, every whimper.

"You feel so good," you whispered, rubbing your hands down his chest, over his abs, feeling them tense beneath your palms. "So deep, Rafe."

His breath stuttered, his hands sliding back to your waist, guiding you into a slow, lewd grind, helping you glide him against that spot that made you tremble.

"You wanna feel me in your fuckin’ stomach, huh?" His voice was a rasp, a tease, but his eyes were half-lidded, his mouth parted in awe, watching the way you moved. "Gotta have me so deep you feel me for days?"

You gasped, nails digging into his skin. "Shit—yes, yes, please—”

Rafe growled, sitting up so fast you squealed, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you in, your chests flush as his mouth crashed against yours. He kissed you matching the lazy intoxicating drag of his cock inside you, his hands everywhere—your back, your thighs, your face. He traced over your cheek, his thumb swiping just beneath your lip, pressing, feeling the way your mouth parted even more for him, giving him everything, his fingers slid into your hair, gripping at the roots, angling your head just right so he could dive in deeper.

He pulled back, painting against your lips, forehead pressed to yours, eyes hazy. Your thighs trembled where they were wrapped around his hips, his fingers slipping between you, pressing against your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent white-hot pleasure curling up your spine.

“That’s it,” he murmured, “Know you’re close—feel you squeezin’ me.” His forehead pressed harder against yours, his breath uneven, restraint hanging by a thread. “Come on, pretty girl, wanna feel it.”

You whimpered, gasping as the tension inside you coiled impossibly tight. Every drag of his cock, every flick of his fingers, every breathy moan against your lips—it was too much. Your nails scraped down his chest, dragging red lines, but Rafe barely felt it, wholeheartedly focused on the way you were shaking, how your walls clenched around him like you were made to take him.

Your head dropped back, mouth falling open as you moaned, "Y-Yeah—oh my God—Rafe—"

Rafe groaned as he slammed up into you, chasing his own high, his movements frantic now. “Fuck—fuck—”

Your thighs shook, your back arching as your orgasm slammed into you, your cunt tightening around his cock like you never wanted to let go.

"Shit—oh shit, fuckkk—" You gasped, babbling, the words barely forming as your body convulsed around him, muscles tensing and releasing with every wave of pleasure.

He felt it—the way you gushed around him, drenching him, the obscene, slick sounds making his jaw clench.

"Baby," he rasped, voice tight, "You're fuckin’ coming all over me—makin’ such a goddamn mess—”

You whined, helpless, your hips still rolling, chasing every last drop of pleasure. Your thighs were sticky, coating him all over, dripping down, soaking the sheets beneath you.

Rafe’s hands were shaking as he held you, watching the way you quivered, breathless, ruined. He thrust up once, twice—grinding deep into your overstimulated cunt, making you wail. His jaw clenched, a ragged groan ripping from his throat.

Your mouth was open, little gasps spilling out as he kept fucking up into you, chasing his own high. His thrusts were hungry, his fingers digging into your ass, keeping you exactly where he wanted you

Your body was completely overstimulated, but you didn’t stop, or couldn’t stop. You were too dizzy off the way Rafe was ruining you, how he was holding you down, forcing you to take every inch that had your mind blanking.

Your lips brushed against his ear, as you pouted, "Rafe—baby, you’re so deep—’s so much, so fucking big—" Your words slurred, just a string of filthy, broken sounds, no shame left. "You f-feel that? How I��m dripping down your cock? So messy, all over you—your fuckin’ cum, all yours—"

Rafe let out a wrecked groan, his whole body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. His head fell back, eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack, completely lost in it.

"Fuck," he choked, his abs flexing under your touch, "Shit, you’re—" He cut himself off with a whimper, actually fucking whimpering, because you were still talking, still feeding him filth, still pulling him deeper into that haze.

"Need you to cum—need to feel it, wanna feel you inside me—" Your voice was high, needy, almost delirious. You pressed sloppy kisses along his jaw, panting against his skin, shoving your hand into his hair, tugging. "You’re so good, fuck me so good—please, please give it to me—wanna feel you break inside me—"

Rafe cursed, the sound strangled, his hips stuttering as his whole body locked up. His eyes rolled back, his lips parting in a silent moan, almost crying from how hard he came. His cock twitched violently, pulse after pulse of hot cum spilling inside you, so much, too much, his whole body shaking, his chest heaving as he tried—and failed—to catch his breath.

His hands were still trying to hold you still, but he was weak, twitching, shaking.

You were both past the point of reason or past the point of stopping.

You kept milking him through it, dragging out every shudder, every pulse of pleasure, every last wrecked noise from his throat.

Rafe’s hands flew to your waist, trying to still you, to slow you down—but he was already spent, his face twisted in agony, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. You were just as fucked out, but you couldn’t stop, not when it felt this good

You shuddered when your body finally stopped, his hands smoothing up your back, grounding you. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, breathing hard, chest still rising and falling against yours. His lips found your skin, his thumb brushing along your cheek, soothing, even though neither of you could form words yet.

His cock twitched inside you one last time, overstimulated, and a broken sigh slipped past his lips as he moved, rolling onto his side with you still wrapped around him, his cock slipping free, and you both hissed at the loss.

You felt the remnants of him between your thighs, the sticky evidence of everything you'd just done, but you didn’t care when Rafe was already tilting your head up, capturing your lips in another kiss.

"Gimme a minute," he hummed against your mouth, smirking as he kissed you again, slower this time, fingers skimming lazily down your back. "Then we're doing that again."

You exhaled a breathless laugh, already melting against him. "Yeah?"

He nipped at your bottom lip, voice thick with promise. "Yeah."

You’d worry about the pet names later.

1K notes · View notes

blood-smiles · 3 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐄𝐄𝐊!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 MDNI - yandere content . yandere is such a human otaku it’s actually pathetic . general creepy content . DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

── .✦ You bit back sobs as you ran through the green forest, calves burning as if fire was licking at your heels. But you couldn’t stop, it would cost you your life.

Bullets zipped past you, impacting against the thick tree bark and leaving deep bullet holes, an angry man shouting behind you.

You dropped the rabbit in your hands long ago, the angry huntsman chasing behind you as if it was the last thing he would do. Only god would know what he would do to you if he caught you.

Your lungs struggled keeping up with the rest of your body as you sprinted away like a wild deer, a bullet implanted deep in your thigh. The adrenaline wouldn’t allow you to feel pain however, as you were focused on survival.

Your brain tingled with warmth, blood clogging up your head. Your body was beginning to lose strength and the pain would begin to tenfold in moments.

Thorns, your barreled into a bush with thorns, you heard the man stop shouting, but the stinging pain in your skin blocked him out completely as you somehow made it through the bush and landed on a patch of pavement.

Pavement? Why would there be pavement in the middle of the forest. You heard the soft gasps of being around you.

You let out a choked sob as your vision began to go black, the last thing you could remember was the patch of blood beneath you and the large warm hands of someone.

“—man…Hu—…an..Human.” Deep.. Why was his voice so deep? So warm and soothing like the hands on your arms.. What? Why are there hands touching you?

You inhaled sharply, snapping your eyes open. Had the hunter caught you? Where were you?

Your vision blurred as you looked around, body too weak to function correctly, your mind screaming at your body to move—To do something, but your limbs stayed glued to the oddly soft and cushioned.

You took in a large inside of a house with wooden walls, curling into the shape of a tree. The insides lined with books on dated anthropology and various human graphs and.. were those human drawings on the walls?

You saw a male above you, too tall to be a human. And.. Were those pointed ears? Body markings?

What kind of fever induced dream was this?

Was this guy some kind of a human enthusiast? This teetered on borderline creepy and obsessive..

You must have made a funny face because the.. human but not so human shaped male let out an amused exhale through his nose.

“It seems that you are awake.” He paused “Now, little human, do not strain too much, your energy reserve is low.” The deep voice spoke again, bringing a hand close to your face and touching one of your cheeks carefully, with his finger making little swirls on your skin.

“You see, I have used a healing spell of elven origin on you. I found you in a state most dire, I must confess— I was by no means certain that my magicks would be efficacious upon your being. Human organisms are scarce in these lands, and your constitution, complex and delicate as it is, had me fearing I might harm thee furt—“

You couldn’t keep up with his rambling, you could tell he was quite intelligent but.. He really was a chatter box.

Your eyes drifted elsewhere, was this an elf..? You had understood that he was definitely not human, based on his physique and strange knowledge.

“How splendid, I have a human in my possession. A remarkable one too. Those beautiful eyes.. I wonder if most humans have those.. I’m going to note—.”

He looked around your age but his way of speaking and his mannerisms seemed more than a little old fashioned.

His clothing was something else too, it was modest on the top half, well, apart from the boob window, but most his torso was covered, but as you drifted lower, there was only a semi transparent loin cloth covering his genitals. His thighs were strong and his skin was dark and smooth, thigh highs reaching the middle of his thighs. You were pretty sure he was barefoot.

You tried blinking, probably looking like a confused turtle. His hair was very long and a pretty shade of pastel green, part of it covering his left eye, in a thick braid that ran all the way down his back and stopped at his tail bone.

His ears were elongated and droopy, pointing downwards, twitching once in a while, alike to the occasional ear twitches of a fawn.

You couldn’t help but reach a hand upwards towards his head, shaky but steady. Your palm wrapped around his ear, gently tugging at the cartilage.

He paused, eyes widening a little at the sudden intrusion of personal space. You felt his ear twitching under your fingers.

“Little human. What.. is thou doing?” He flushed, abnormally large hands hovering over your hand.

“Humans have natural curiosity, will need to write that down..”

You were sure he could snap your wrist as if it was nothing but a toothpick. You were pleasantly surprised to see that he handled you with extreme care and gentleness.

His slightly calloused hands ghosted over your skin as if the slightest breeze would scuff you. As if you were an antique doll and just the smallest touch of a feather would crack your fragile exterior.

“Ah. I comprehend now. You must be inquiring for sustenance, you must be famished.. Humans must have meals in a timely manner, noted.” He acknowledged, gently picking you up out of the bed and holding you on his hip.

He slung his braid over his shoulder as he carefully took you to what seemed like a kitchen. His chest was very full and comfortable, so you just put your face on it.

Your hands absentmindedly played with his soft hair, you wondered to yourself when you even got the confidence to touch a stranger so familiarly when he had kidnapped you.

But.. It wasn’t all that bad, he healed you. Only light scars lingered on your skin, and you were sure they would disappear in no time.

Plus he was very easy on the eyes— AND he was about to feed you! Were you in heaven?

He hummed softly, placing you on the very tall counter (?) made of some wood, the material felt smooth under your skin like a bamboo board.

He steadied you against a wall, keeping a watchful eye on you just in case you would tilt over and fall off the counter.

You were still so drowsy, blinking slowly and trying to keep the sleep out of your eyes. Were you hallucinating? Because you watched in a daze as ingredients floated around the tall human shaped male in a circle.

He raised a hand once in a while, the needed ingredient drifting to his hand. What you assumed to be a cook book levitated in front of him on a page you couldn’t quite see the contents of.

He glanced at you out of his uncovered eye once in a while checking you were okay.

You couldn’t keep your head up anymore, your head bobbed in fatigue. Your hands folding over your stomach as your eyes began to shut.

“Dearest specimen, wake up. Food is ready.” A soft voice and the gentle feeling of a hand smoothing your hair roused you.

You blinked the sleep away, you had regained the control over your limbs.

“Fortunately I scavenged a human cook book in the library, now I have vaster knowledge on your human custom—“

You let out a small scream, to which he jumped at. Staring at you as if you had grown a second head then turning his head to the sides as if looking for some invisible threat.

“W-Who— What are you?” You slightly raised your voice, hands shooting up to grab his wrist to hold it over your head, halting the soft patting of your head.

“Susano, Human researcher.” He smiled a little bit, finding that you needed both your hands to lift his one wrist obscenely cute. he could see your forearms shaking under the weight of his arm.

“I’m an elf, and you a human. Pray tell, what is your name, human?” He tilted his head down at you, letting you get a closer look at his face and the white markings on his face, the small white dots and star like details.

“..(Y/N).” You caved in, hands sweating as you release his wrist. It wouldn’t be that bad telling him your name since he healed you and.. did he save you?

“..Did you pick me up from that.. Bazaar?” He nodded, stirring the warm plate of soup in his hand with a wooden spoon.

“I believe that someone was chasing you, isn’t that right?.. A human male with a strange metal rod with a leather handle?” Wow, you had thought you lost the hunter but it’s seems not.

“He landed in the same spot you had, you needn’t worry your pretty little head, (Y/N).” He paused as he caught a glimpse of your worried expression.

Gently blowing a little of the soup with his mouth to cool it down, he gently guided the spoon towards your lips.

“Say ‘aah~’..” The soup smelled so good, you reluctantly opened your mouth, really.. What had gotten into you! Letting a..an elf feed you? A stranger no less!!

Flavors exploded in your mouth, your eyebrows raising in surprise, tasting the food in your mouth a second before swallowing.

“So good..” you mumbled, wiping the corner of your mouth before Susano could get to it first.

He smiled appreciatively before continuing his explanation as he spoon fed you. “That.. Hunter, threatened us with his.. strange weapon. I believe humans call them ‘guns’. He tried to pry you out of my arms but I fear I may have swatted him in the head too hard.”

You paused eating, staring at the elf with something unnameable.

“Ah! No no. Don’t look at me like that.. I only did it for your well being. Humans like him.. truly repulse me.” He grimaced at nothing, bringing up the spoon towards his lips to polish the bowl off.

You watched as his tongue stuck out and slowly licked your drool off. Was it intended to be so erotic? You flushed at little under his watchful gaze.

“Tell me, how old are you?” He asked, flicking his wrist and sending the bowl away.

“..I’m 22.” You shyly answered, scratching an itch on your shoulder. You had read in an old library book that elf’s could be pretty old, the fact not showing very much on their appearances.

“You must be a growing human then!! Ah, how thrilling! Your bones are to age aren’t they?” What a strange question, you nodded with a strange look on your face.

“You look different from the infant humans in books though.. Do you need breast feeding still? Did you lose your mother? You poor thing.. All lost and on your own..” he cooed, coming closer to you and opening his arms to embrace you in a soul crushing hug.

He grabbed your arms while you were restrained by his biceps, a notebook floating into view with a levitating pen.

what seemed to be a measuring device began flying everywhere and measuring all details about you.

“Hm. How interesting, humans heal at an extremely slow rate. How have you managed to survive this long? Your immune system is naught but absolutely easy to trespass and get you ill.” He noted, your ears registering the soft scribbling of a pen on pages.

“Humans are very intelligent beings but.. still so fragile, I could snap your bones with a squeeze of my hand. Are all of you this small? You barely reach my mid section, truly amusing.” He muttered under his breath

“H-Hold on! I do not need breast feeding! I’m not a child! I’m an adult! A full grown adult with an almost fully developed frontal lobe!” You tried to resist his hug, putting your arms in front of you as if your feeble attempt would stop you from being smothered between his chests.

“Hm? Is that so..? Well, surely you still want to be taken care of don’t you? Even if you are an adult, surely you won’t mind more smothering.. Humans are truly such interesting creatures.” He lifted you into the air as if you were lighter than an underweight kitten.

“I have made my mind.” He lifted you to meet his eyes, which was pretty high up, if you guessed he was somewhere around seven feet.

His expression was serious and ice cold. As if he was a drill sergeant about to reprimand you. His hold was gentle but his eyes said something else.

“I am going to keep you here with me, in the village. From now on you are under my care as a defenseless human, adult or not. I took you in and now you are my responsibility.” He announced proudly, before hugging you as close as possible to him, rubbing his cheek against your own face.

“—And you are going to aid me in my human studies, you are one remarkable specimen and too precious to let prance out in the wild. Goddesses, how did you even survive out there? Do you know how dangerous elven forests are?”

You tried grabbing at the long green braid of hair to make him peel himself from you, the body warmth was all consuming and becoming unbearable.

You tried to pull at his hair but he didn’t budge, only smiling and ‘aww’ing at your attempt to make space.

“We shall have a most wonderful time together. ♥”

#yandere x reader #smilesyanderes #yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fem reader #yandere male #Susanoposting #HE IS VERY MUCH INSPIRED BY SO MANY YANDERE SOURCES #MEO EIRU PLEASE NOTICE ME #I love him.. Suzy #yandere tendencies #soft yandere #yandere x darling #yanderecore #yandere blog

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sixeyesonathiel · 1 month ago

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what happens when your childhood best friend, satoru gojo carries you through the rain so your socks don’t get wet?

a/n: i missed the chance adding a scene like this on love thy neighbor 👹

"ugh, no. nope. i’m not walking through that."

you halt on the sidewalk like a pampered cat avoiding a puddle, your polished mary janes hovering dramatically over a wide sheet of grimy rainwater. your nose scrunches with disdain as you frown at the murky mess rippling over the uneven concrete. your arms are crossed high over your chest, blazer sleeves wrinkled and damp from gripping your umbrella like it personally offended you. the storm murmurs softly in the background—low thunder rumbling like a sleepy yawn, cars hissing by with sloshes of tire spray, the whisper of tree branches dripping above you.

behind you, satoru lets out a theatrical groan—deep, dramatic, and just exaggerated enough to be obnoxious. like he’s auditioning for a soap opera.

"it’s water, not lava," he drawls, standing just a few paces behind you, half-soaked and absolutely unbothered. his white button-up clings to his torso like a second skin, translucent where it’s stuck to his skin. the rain has darkened it enough to reveal the faint lines of his undershirt beneath, and the tips of his silver-white bangs are plastered to his forehead in chaotic strands. he shakes his head slightly, droplets flinging in every direction, as if he’s some golden retriever in human form.

"my socks," you state flatly, tone clipped and decisive, as if that alone should shut down the discussion. you angle your leg forward just enough to showcase the offending problem—white frilly ankle socks with delicate faux pearls stitched along the cuff. you tilt your chin, posture confident despite the drizzle misting your skin. "they’re new. and expensive. and limited edition."

satoru shifts his weight with a scoff, running a hand through his soaked hair. it flops back into place anyway. his tie hangs crooked and loose around his neck like he forgot it existed. his glasses are foggy, making his pout look vaguely scholarly. "god forbid your royal toes get damp. whatever shall we do?"

you shoot him a glare over your shoulder, one brow arched like you’re ready to launch a lawsuit. "i will push you into that gutter and make it look like an accident."

his grin breaks across his face instantly—wide, lazy, and all mischief. his blue eyes glint behind the foggy lenses. rain drips down the bridge of his nose and off the tip like punctuation. "please. you couldn’t even tip me over if you used both hands and a running start."

he’s always been like this—unshakably smug, insufferably tall, the kind of boy who got too handsome too young and decided to weaponize it. but he’s yours. the annoying, overgrown boy who used to share bento lunches with you and still calls your mom ‘auntie’ like you’re twelve again.

suddenly, without a word, he crouches. his school bag lands with a soft thunk on the nearest dry stoop, and he tilts his chin back to look at you.

"get on," he says.

you blink. once. twice. the rain drips rhythmically off your umbrella, trailing rivulets down the curve.

"...excuse me?"

"you’re not walking through that, right? so get on. before your overpriced socks file a class action."

he pats the backs of his thighs with both hands like this is a perfectly reasonable idea. he doesn’t even look back at you.

"you are not carrying me," you say, scandalized. your voice pitches higher, more out of pride than disbelief. you narrow your eyes and toss your wet bangs from your forehead. "this isn’t a k-drama."

"don’t flatter yourself, diva. you’re tiny. i’ll survive."

"i swear to god, satoru—"

"think of the socks. their sacrifice would be in vain."

you groan, dragging a hand down your face. you look up at the stormy sky as if asking some divine entity for strength, before stepping forward with all the dramatics of a tragic heroine. your shoes click exaggeratedly against the pavement as you adjust your skirt, clutch your umbrella in one hand, and prepare for the social suicide of being princess-carried down a public street.

"this is humiliating," you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck half-heartedly. your cheek grazes his as you shift your weight against his back. he’s warm despite the rain. sturdy.

"you love it," he says smoothly, rising like you weigh nothing. he adjusts his grip around your thighs and angles the umbrella so it shields you both better, though the side of his face still gets peppered by stray drops. "you’ll tell this story at our wedding, won’t you?"

you splutter. "delusional."

he hums, unconcerned. his steps are slow and exaggerated, carefully avoiding puddles with exaggerated grace, like he’s performing for an invisible audience.

rain beads on his lashes. he doesn’t blink them away, just keeps humming under his breath—some tune from that magical girl anime you watched with him last weekend out of boredom. or maybe affection. not that you’d admit it.

"if you drop me, i’m telling your mom," you warn, voice muffled slightly against the slope of his neck.

"if i drop you, it’s because your couture socks distracted me with their hideous sparkle."

you gasp so loudly a couple walking past under a shared umbrella actually turns to look.

"they’re elegant, you fashion criminal."

"they look like something you hot-glued onto your doll’s clothes in third grade."

"they’re vintage inspired!"

he grins again, quieter this time. it reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners.

"nah, they’re cute. you’re cute."

a pause.

the air stills just enough to notice the sound of a single raindrop hitting metal, distant thunder mumbling behind the clouds.

your fingers, damp and chilly, twitch just slightly against the curve of his collarbone. the fabric of his shirt clings between you, and your breath feels embarrassingly warm against his skin.

he doesn’t say anything else.

and you don’t let go.

not even when the rain begins to ease, not even when the sidewalk turns dry, and definitely not when your socks stay perfectly, gloriously dry.

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zyafics · 4 months ago

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GIRL VERSUS CAT | Rafe Cameron

LOOKBOOK | MAIN MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — When you come back to Tannyhill and find a cat.

Word Count — 0.8K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, Wheezie has a little attitude, and you are clingy (literally).

Coming back to Tannyhill should be smooth. Gone for a couple of days, it shouldn’t have changed much, especially given that your absence was almost obsolete in the grand scheme of things.

You hadn’t expected the cat.

An additional member of the family, Wheezie decided she wanted to adopt a cat a couple of days prior. It was going relatively well—well-trained, ultimately welcoming, and somewhat needy at times, but that’s normal. In fact, it adores every single member of the household.

Except you.

Upon entry, following behind Rafe, the cat immediately tracks you. Its ears raise at the sound of your footsteps, the smell of your scent, as if it knows—it knows what you truly are—and instantly meows. A few steps in, it jumps off the cushioned seat and races towards you with charged vigor.

Your eyes widen at the fast-approaching predator, and without a second thought, leap onto Rafe's back, climbing him like a tree.

“What is that? What is that?” You ask breathlessly, fear trembling in your voice as your legs wrap around Rafe’s torso, raising you off the ground. It came in a blink of an eye as the devious creature arrived at the foot of Rafe’s feet, blinking up at you while hissing viciously.

Rafe finds amusement in this situation. He hadn’t expected this reaction from Wheezie’s cat—which has been so docile and sedentary—but he remembers, to be fair, you are his favorite meal.

“It’s a cat,” Rafe explains with a low voice. “You haven’t seen one before?”

It hisses again, so loud, it makes you jump, letting out a little yelp as you climb higher on Rafe’s taunt body, shaking your head to his question.

“It’s not going to hurt you,”

“It’s trying to eat me,” you whimper in his ears, locking your arms around his chest to keep your body off the ground. But truly, gravity is a persistent enemy, and you’re slipping, slipping further and further down until the cat sees you in view and leaps upwards, trying to claw its way toward you.

Another shriek escapes you, and you climb further. Rafe realizes that while you—surprisingly—managed the ability of a natural climber, his hand slips under one of your thighs, anchoring you to him.

“Get it away, get it away, get it away,” you beg Rafe, soft and frantic voice swimming in his ear as labored breaths fan against the crook of his neck. Wheezie’s cat continues to claw towards you—subtly scratching at Rafe’s calves—but not enough to reach.

You still don’t trust it.

“Say please,” Rafe teases, stretching out the moment longer than necessary, enjoying the way you’re dependent on him.

“Please,” you beg, your bottom lip juts out in a natural pout, in a way that Rafe can no longer deny you.

With a sigh, Rafe turns to his little sister who's watching the scene unfold with mild suspicion.

“Can you take your cat somewhere else?” Rafe asks, his tone gentler in comparison to the way he speaks to Sarah.

“We were here first,” Wheezie frowns.

You let out another squeal; the cat had managed to jump and swing its paw, nearly missing your toes. You squeeze your arms tighter around Rafe’s neck, to the point of choking him.

Rafe grits his teeth, subduing the instinctual panic, before glaring at his younger sister. “Wheezie,” he warns.

The youngest Cameron sighs, slipping off the cushioned couch, and approaches the pair before scooping the cat in her arms, subduing her pet with gentle pats and head rubs. It doesn’t, however, subdue its hisses, and now almost to your level, it meets your eyes with a hostile glare.

You shrink, hiding yourself behind Rafe’s broad shoulders.

“They say pets are the best judge in character,” Wheezie comments, her hands stroking her pet who’s in a stare-off with you. She bumps her elbow against Rafe’s arm, lowering her voice a few octaves. “She might have a secret.”

Once she's out of earshot, Rafe mutters. “Yeah, she’s half fuckin’ fish."

Now, with the threat of the demon gone, you should release and find the ground. But you remain, clambered around his body, skin meeting skin, arms around his neck, and chin brushing the broad of his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whisper gently, breathing leveling out, as he feels the gratitude submerge beneath his skin.

Rafe turns his head slightly, enough to meet your appreciative gaze. But he can’t help but notice the sparkle in your eyes; the way you look at him, as if he’s your protector, savior, and purpose all wrapped up in one.

His heart thumps a little louder.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he murmurs. “You plannin’ on staying like this?”

Smiling demurely, you ask, “Can I?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, but truthfully, he’ll do nearly anything you ask of him with that smile. With a motion of his arm, he grabs your waist and pulls you into a bridal carry. A lithe laugh escapes you at the swift change in position, but once secured in his arms, Rafe cast one last look at your carefree expression and resumes the walk back to his bedroom.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR MERMAID!READER: @nemesyaaa / @promiscuousg1rl / @fullofsunshineandloneliness / @erwinsvow / @perfectprettypisces / @immalosersblog / @carolinevoight / @drewswife / @skye-44 / @ggraycelynn / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @drewstarkeyspecs / @lolasangelz / @chalahyung01 / @waywardalpacaoctopus / @jjasmiineee / @chelzaa / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @walkingwithoutreason / @mega-kittyglitter-1 / @m1-na / @mattyskies / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl /@storminacloud / @ilyrafe / @7ds4ever / @jadastarkey /@hannaa20002000 / @gumdropgirl / @lilithblackkk @sunshinedaisy21 / @perfectmenarefictional / @wuluhwuhmaster / @missamericanablog / @esposamultifandom / @voidangxls @blushmimi

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