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kisses4themissus · 1 month ago

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Stubborn Lovers | M.R X Reader

a/n: i literally js finished writing this lol pairing: Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom!Reader WC: 4k

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Staring down at the negative test you held your breath, your mind had been relieved while your stomach had dropped at the sight. You nodded yourself before burying them under paper towels in the trash can.

Walking back to your desk, you had physically tensed up. You were confused on your reaction part of you was terrified but the part was glad there was a chance of being pregnant once more.

As you typed along your computer, a nurse rolled up beside you and held up a QR code to her venmo. “Gary found three pregnancy tests in the trash today, everyone’s making bets it’s that new girl, nicole; one of the night shift girl’s said that she was getting close with one of the neurologist’s morning attending!” She wiggled her brows, your hid your expression and grabbed your wallet and polluted out a twenty and handed it over.

“Twenty on that she’s dating him already.” You smirked, already knowing of your brother’s secret girlfriend. “I’ll add you to the pool.” She smiled and walked over, once alone your eyes widened. You were sure to hide your test right?

- - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he finished up the teen’s ankle cast. “Should be healed up in 6-8 weeks, just keep it elevated when sitting or resting.” Robby smiled in sympathy as the teen groaned and went back to her phone.

Her mom thanked him before leaving to pull her car up, perlah helped the teen use the crutches up and down the hall for practice for when on her own. Leaving robby alone with lacey in the room.

Lacey sighed and shook her head, grabbing her tiny backpack from under the plastic chair to pull out an unopened juice box. Robby saw lacey struggle from the corner of his eye, quickly walking over and popping the straw in. Lacey blinked up at robby and nodded, “thank you dr. robby.” She quickly sipped on the juice and looked around the room while robby typed up the discharge papers.

“Why haven’t you come back to mine and mommy’s place?” Lacey asked, not knowing her question made robby’s heart hurt.

“You and your mommy have been busy, i didn’t want to make you both even busier..” Robby responded, taking in a deep breath.

Lacey sat down in the plastic chair and looked at the back of robby’s navy jacket. “Nick doesn’t like that you and mommy are close..” She watched as robby tensed up.

“Is that so? How is your dad?” Robby attempted to change the subject. Lacey sighed and shrugged. “He’s ok, he’s a firefighter now…he got me a cat plushie, i don’t think he knows i’m allergic.” Lacey said sighing to herself. “Him and mommy were fighting the other night at the house, he keeps telling me he has a room set up for me at his house..”

Robby sighed as he completed the paperwork, taking off his glasses he turned to face lacey.

“Do you want to be with him?” He asked, lacey shrugged and let her eyes drift off to her shoes.

“Mommy said it’d be nice to spend time with nick but he doesn’t always stay for too long..” She sighed, looking up as the teen walked through the doors, perlah behind her.

“Well, anna you are cleared to go, just come back in two weeks for a cast change, alright?” Robby smiled, the teen nodded and sighed.

“Bye dr. robby!” Lacey waved as robby left the room.

- - - - - - -

You sighed as you walked to the staff elevators, not looking up as you entered. Bumping into someone on their way out.

Both of you let of a surprised noise before looking up, Mel stood in front of you, clutching the Ipad in her hands. “Dr. king?” You asked as she stared at you.

“Um– i’m sorry but the lab sent notice that the pregnancy tests they had been using we’re expired; it’d explain why your test was positive.” She explained, you nodded.

“Oh, thank you dr. king.” You smiled politely, now stepping into the elevators with her. Your bag on your shoulder, your heart tightened as robby and collins got on from a different floor.

Feeling robby’s gaze, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through the messages from your family, a few from nick. “Are you feeling better?” Collins asked, making you look up from your phone. “Uh- sort of, took an anti nausea this afternoon.” You nodded, hoping no one would press on.

Mel glanced between the three doctors and stayed silent.

- - - - - - -

Among your phone with your mom you had agreed to being the sugar plum fairy for the show. The next evening, after you had gotten off of work, you carried your bag into the ballet studio, thankful the next day was your day off.

“Oh there she is!” Your mom cheered, walking over to you; already fussing over your hair and makeup. Sitting down in her office marissa and your mom got to work as the photographer took shots of other dancers.

“You should see lovebug, she found extra bows and had marissa sew them to her costume!” Your mom chuckled, making you melt at the mention of your daughter, it had been hours since you last saw her.

“Where is she?” You asked as marissa helped you slip on the sugar plum dress.

“She’s practicing poses with the other kids.”

Nodding at your mom’s words, finally seeing yourself as you opened your phone’s camera. The sight took you back to your last nutcracker, before lovebug was born, before you decided to pursue medicine.

“So beautiful!” Marissa smiled as you got up from the office chair, your socks touching the wood flooring, as your mother spotted them she gasped and walked towards her desk and handed you a pair of pointe shoes you kept around the studio.

“Do I really need these?” You asked, making your mom nod.

“We need a photo of our sugar plum on pointe.” She smiled, you could tell she was hiding something. With a agitated sigh you got to work covering your toes before slipping into the shoes.

- - - - - - -

Robby knew something was up with jake as the two walked out of a flower shop, two bouquets in hand.

“Where do you need to go next?” Robby asked, making the boy tense up before relaxing. “Uh, there’s this studio not too far, my uh– friend is there!” Jake stuttered, thinking of an excuse. Robby silent chuckled before following jake to the parked car.

As robby pulled into the parking lot his heart began to beat faster, spotting your car in the front parking spaces. Turning to jake who had his phone out texting someone. “Your friend a dancer?” Robby questioned.

Jake nodded, putting his phone away before opening his door. “Yeah, she was suppose to be in the show but got injured..” Jake explained, missing the look on robby’s face as he got out and followed jake into the building.

Upon opening the door both of them were greeted to the sounds of controlled chaos. Little dancers all spread out through the building, jake walked to the front desk and looked around for someone.

“Excuse me?” Jake called out, a tiny fur covered child stopped and turned to face him, robby broke into a smile as lacey turned, her hands on her hips.

“Can i help you?” Lacey asked, turning around to approach the front desk, climbing onto the chair. Jake smiled and nodded, “I wanted to give these to my friend, her name’s anna.” Jake explained, watching as lacey looked over the desk as if it was her job.

“How do you know her?” She asked, her little features dropping to a serious expression. Robby laughed catching the five year olds attention. “Hi dr. robby!” She waved, before turning to jake. “We go to school together.” Jake explained, lacey looked over the teen boy before turning to robby, her little gloved hand pointing at jake.

“You know him?” She asked, robby nodded and small smile growing. With a nod lacey hopped down from the desk and walked over to the small gate and bit off her glove to push it open.

Propping it open with her body she smiled at jake, very charmingly; “I’ll let you through since you know dr. robby..” She sighed and pointed jake to where the teen girl sat. As jake went to pass, robby stood in the lobby and looked around. Several photos of dancers, some personal.

He smiled as he saw a photo of you and your brothers, you dress as clara while the boys were toy soldiers, another photo being you three as arabian dancers. Lacey slipped on her glove and walked over to robby.

“That one is my favorite, my mommy looks pretty!” She pointed to a bigger photo of you mid pose in a pastel pink dress, robby smiled as he notice another, it was of you, a bit younger holding a bundled up baby in your arms.

“Is that you?” Robby asked, lacey nodded and smiled.

Before either could continue talking the front doors opened, both lacey and robby turned, both feeling the same dread. “Hi nick..” Lacey greeted. The firefighter smiled, a bag slung over his shoulder. “Hi buggy, you look like a cute little mouse..” He complimented.

“She’s a rat..”

“I’m a rat.”

Both robby and lacey said at the same time, causing them to look at each other with smiles. Nick’s smiled dropped as he turned and eyed robby. “It’s Robinavitch, right?” Nick asked, tilting his head, a cocky smile growing on his face. “It’s doctor robinavitch!” Lacey corrected, rolling her eyes at nick.

“Yes and you’re nicholas?” Robby asked, watching nick’s movement as he approached him. “What are you doing here? Thought you’d be with your girlfriend?” Nick asked, his words making lacey pop up, her little eyes lighting up.

“You’re dating mommy?” She asked, a smile growing; making robby’s heart hurt as nick tsked and shook his head, kneeling down to be lacey’s height. “No honey, he has girlfriend already..” Nick explained, both men watched as lacey’s brow furrowed.

“But–! He kissed…mommy?” She softly asked, her mind slowly piercing a story together. Lacey stared at robby for a moment before turning around towards nick. “He hurt your mommy’s feelings, that’s why dr. robby hasn’t been around you or your mommy, he’s been with his own girlfriend..” Nick watched as his daughter’s emotion was clear.

“Hey, don’t bring her into this–!” Robby attempted to cut in but was stopped at lacey’s look of disgust.

“You were mean to mommy?!” Lacey scoffed at robby, turning around to walk back through the gate towards the dance studios, her head shaking at the news.

“She needed to know what kind of man you are, robinavitch.” Nick smirked, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. “Oh by the way, thanks for sending flowers to her apartment, I forgot to pick something up the other night for dinner, she loved them.” Nick added, his shoulders held back proud. With a smooth pace he walked through the studio gate.

Robby stood in the lobby, shaking his head in disbelief at nick.

Moments later jake walked out, a smile on his face. “You ready, robby?” Jake asked, noticing the look on robby’s face. Wordlessly robby nodded, looking back in hopes to catch a glimpse of you or lacey.

You sighed as you went on pointe, holding onto the bar to balance, unaware of the visitor in the doorway.

“Woah!” A tiny voice made you chuckle and slowly ease down before turning to see lacey standing in her costume, half of it zipped down to her waist, the hood dragging on the floor as she walked over to you.

“So pretty mommy!” She smiled up at you, her gloved hands lightly touching your skirt. “Look at my little rat!” You squealed, your fingers tickling her neck. She laughed and scrunched up, there was a moment where she stared at you before latching herself to your legs, the tutu hitting her head.

You smiled and rubbed her back, she clutched on and sighed against your legs. “What’s the matter babybug?” You asked, maneuvering her so you could pick her up, not caring if you creased the tutu.

“I love you mommy..” She mumbled against your shoulder, touching your hair softly. You chuckled and kissed the side of her head. “I love you, now what happened?” You asked once more, making her shake her head.

“You hug me when i get sad, and I thought you’d be sad cause of robby..” She explained, making you furrow your brows. “How do you know about–?!” You went to asked but stopped as you saw nick, watching you both a smirk on his face.

- - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since lacey turned away from robby, he had attempted to talk to you, but failed. You had blocked his number and would reject any paging from him.

Robby groaned tiredly as he entered a small exam room, thankful night shift had already began to take over. As he entered the room, robby smiled it was jake’s new “friend” and her mom.

Quickly robby had gotten to changing the cast, checking on the broken bone. Langdon had stepped into the room and waited for robby to finish the bandaging. As he finished up the girls mom popped up and handed both men pamphlets. “The studio was grateful for you guys and is offering free seating for any healthcare working, you just need a photo of your badge to prove it; there’s more info about the shows and everything inside the pamphlets!” She explained, both langdon and robby nodded appreciating the gesture.

As the two walked back to central, langdon let out a chuckle as he opened the ballet pamphlet. “She’s gonna be pissed..” Frank muttered before handing the pamphlet to dana who gasped, immediately opening it to read over the show dates and times.

“Oh, very gorgeous!” Dana complimented, the others looking at the page

Robby ignored the pair as he packed his things up.

“She’s a dancer too?” Mel questioned, pushing her glasses up to get a better look. Robby sighed and flipped open the pamphlet, quickly letting out a scoff.

The opening page being you as the sugar plum fairy with nick posed with you in a matching outfit. Flipping over the thing, robby gave a tiny smile as it was a photo of the rats, lacey in the center, her teeth on display as she faked a growl.

Walking back with another doctor from the cafeteria, you stopped as day shift stared at you with smiles. “What are you guys looking at me like that?” You asked, walking past them, shaking your head, chuckling.

“See you guys at the park tomorrow!” You waved, not looking back at the workers.

- - - - - - -

The interns groaned as they stood out in the park’s empty field, late fall- early winter training was a pain; gloria had each floor do endurance tests to make sure everyone was fit to keep up with the fast pace environment.

Whitaker wiped sweat from his brows as he stopped for a water break, victoria and santos joining him quickly after.

“This sucks!” Santos panted, gulping down her water. Victoria wordlessly nodded and fanned herself. Samira chuckled as she jogged over to the trio. “I don’t think dr. abbot forgot his training.” She pointed out as jack had Shen attempt jumping jacks.

“Do you think dr robby’s gonna be this bad?” Victoria asked, glancing at the other who shrugged and took note as robby’s truck pulled up and outstepped jake and robby.

“I hope not.” Whitaker sighed, shaking his head before walking back towards shen and abbot.

“Morning.” Robby greeted, smiling a bit at the interns misery.

Grumbles and brief good mornings were said as they all passed by and sat down on the grass, waiting for the next test. “I see abbot worked you all to the bone.” Robby noted, lightly kicking whitaker who laid on the grass, staring up like he was wishing for a deity to save him.

Nods were exchanged, jake snorted and walked over to where coolers of drinks sat lined up. Setting up two fold out chairs and motioned for jack to take a seat, which he did with a content look.

“Alright, back on your feet while we wait for the others.” Robby’s words cause groans before they all got up.

“I think vomit if we have to do another lap around the park!” Victoria sighed, before following the others.

“I think i’m having a heat stroke!” Whitaker said as he bent over and held onto his knees, catching his breath.

“Pussy!” Santos commented, standing beside him, a bottle of water in her hand.

Jake chuckled at the interns and got up from his chair to see another department running laps around the park just a few feet away.

“What department are they?” Jake asked shen who sat in the folding chair, his sunglasses slipping down his nose as he turned to see where jake was looking.

“That’s the ICU department, well one of them.” Shen nodded as he watched you stand infront of your doctors and nurses watching as they all jogged laps.

“She runs her shit tighter then the navy.” Shen added, sitting up in his chair as you glanced over towards them, with a quick glance back at your own department you motioned for your other attending before walking over to their side of the park.

“Dr. shen, hi jake!” You greeted the two.

They greeted you back, the three of you watching as the interns caught their breaths on the benches. “How’s it going over here?” You asked, making shen snort. “Could be better, whittaker has almost vomited twice and samaria tried to limp her way out of running laps.” Shen debriefed making you nod with a smile.

You noticed jack and robby off to the side as they watched the nurses beat the doctors with tug of war. With a sigh you rolled your shoulders back before walking over to the men. “Damn, that sucks and into the snow too..” You shook your head, both robby and jack turned to you.

“Tell me about it, how it going over there?” Jack asked, motioning towards the group of ICU workers who were now doing laps jogging lightly. “Lost half of them since our doordasher got lost so they went o find the guy but i assume their all at a bar now..” You sighed, chuckling a bit.

Jack was pulled away by shen who needed help with getting the interns from their resting spots. Leaving you and robby alone. Robby had expected for you to leave with jack was was mildly stunned as you stayed put.

Turning to robby, you closed your eyes and sighed, making sure none of the ED was paying attention to you both. “Talk.” You muttered, making robby look at you, shocked a bit.

“What?” He asked, shocked.

“You’ve been wanting to talk to me about everything so now’s the chance, talk to me.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. Robby froze for a moment before turning to you. “Everything that happened, i wasn’t expecting it; the date, lacey being ok with me around, you opening up to me..” Robby began, earning a nod from you, your eyes still watching everyone else.

“Anything good that happens to me, it doesn’t last long enough for me to enjoy it, like jake i’ve known the kid since he was twelve, six years before it went to shit because of pittfest.. My relationship with collins, it only lasted barely a year before she called it quits, I got panicked that day at the park, you seemed so open to me,” He stopped, now turning his head to face you.

“I didn’t want to lose you or cause lacey any pain from my fucked up life;” He stopped, remembering the look of anger and disgust on lacey’s face after finding out why robby hadn’t been around. “Why didn’t you clear up that rumor of you and collins that day?” You asked, stoic.

Robby stared at you for a moment before answering. “I was too stunned to hear that rumor come around, i did stop it after you left the floor..” Robby explained, your stomach still had a knot as you finally turned to him. “That same day, in the parking lot I saw you and dr. collins; you cupped her cheek and rubbed her belly…how is someone suppose to take that then get told you and her were dating?” You asked, your eyes searching his for an answer.

His eyes hesitated, he sighed and looked down. “A few months ago, collins told me something she kept to herself for years since me and her dated…she felt guilty for it..” Robby began to explain, your eyes moving to see collins who laughed with jack as langdon attempted jumping jacks.

The knot in your stomach fell as you looked at collins, noticing a slight glow about her, then back to robby, looking at you once more, silently robby knew you had already connected the dots. “She was unsure of us back then, good thing too; I would’ve been a shit dad..” Robby chuckled, his hands going to his jacket pockets.

“She struggled with fertility since then, that day she told me how she had passed her first trimester smoothly and was expecting a child with someone she met..you can’t help but be happy for someone after what they’ve been through..” Robby explained, catching your teary gaze. “I don’t want me and you to be another fucked up thing..” He sighed.

As you both stood there, you nodded and snaked your hand towards his jacket pocket and held his hand. He smiled softly at you.

“Now it sounds like i’ve been a jealous bitch..” You joked, earning a huff of laughter from robby.

- - - - - - -

“Twenty on robby asks her out!” Shen said, as most of the ED had began to watched you and robby talk to one another; a shift in both of your demeanors.

“I’m saying fifty their dating.” Jack added, pulling out his wallet while shen began texting the ED’s betting group chat.

“Dana said thirty on him asking her out in two weeks.” Victoria informed as she scolded through the mass texts coming from other workers.

As the workers began listing their bets, they were stopped as a pink ride on kids jeep rolled up next to them on the concrete, the little girl wore a fluffy coat and sunglasses, a bag behind her in the mock backseat. She lifted her glasses and asked if anyone had seen you, shocking them as she called you by your last name.

Whittaker pointed to where you and robby stood, talking.

Lacey nodded as she began to drive her jeep over to you both, bumping up the speed a bit. Silent looks were exchanged among the workers about the tiny diva.

As you and robby talked, you stopped and turned as you heard familiar whirling noise. By the time you registered the sound and stepped back it was too late, lacey bounced back in her seat as she hit the back of robby’s legs. With a gasp you helped hold robby up as he held back curses.

“Lacey!” You scolded, the little girl shrugged at robby and walked over to you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, noticing her leg warmers and tutu under her jacket. “Aunty marissa had to drop me off since jason got into a fight a school!” She explained.

Robby chuckled as he rubbed the back of legs, You shook your head and turned to see your sister in laws car but stopped as the ED workers stared at you three.

Clearing your throat you motioned for lacey, picking her up with ease. “Everyone, this is my lovebug, say hi lacey.” You introduced the little girl. She waved to the workers and jake.

“Hi guys!” Lacey smiled at everyone.

next pt!!

lovebug taglist: @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @lovebuggyies @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @evans-dejong @equallyshaw @Qardasnagan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finkle-blog @baileythepenguin @khaleesibeach @obfuscateyummy @li22ie2017 @hagarsays @catmomstyles3 @antisocialfiore @journalism2004 @capswife @obsessed-fan-alert @sabrinaselina55

#dr. robby x reader #dr robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x you #michael robby robinavitch x reader #robby robinavitch x reader #dr robby x you #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #robby ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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cake-writes · 1 year ago

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Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night.

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you?

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication.

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.

What the hell is he doing?

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way.

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.”

Your birth control must be overdue, then.

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.

He should have known then that he was getting too attached.

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way.

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.

He could get you pregnant.

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.

Kakashi swears.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.

He’s already too attached.

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone.

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

“Mm. Do you want me to?”

His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.

You want to say no, he realises.

He wants you to say no.

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk.

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership.

His.

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.

“Just this once.”

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.

Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth.

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go.

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well.

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl.

“More than okay,” you sigh.

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste.

Later.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?”

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows.

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go.

Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you.

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.

It’s selfish, he knows.

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take.

He wants it to take.

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.

“Close?”

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.

He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?”

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”

“Really?”

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily.

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—”

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”

He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.

He wants them to mean that you’re his.

He’s too attached.

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.

It won't last long. He’s too worked up.

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—”

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.

“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up—

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off.

If he moves right now, he’s done for.

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.

You finish first. Always.

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy.

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple—

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time.

No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you.

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—”

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.”

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight.

His jaw tenses at the reminder.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?”

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves.

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen.

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee.

Get her there, then pull out.

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch.

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon.

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—”

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now—

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall.

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it.

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—”

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra.

Get her there, then pull out.

Get her there, then—

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips.

Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—”

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want.

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry.

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.

It feels good. It feels right.

He’s too attached.

He doesn’t care.

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits.

Why the hell did he do that?

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.

“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard.

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.”

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.”

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur.

They’re happy tears, you said.

You’re happy with him.

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.

You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight.

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came.

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine?

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.”

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.”

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.

It’s cute. You’re cute.

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.

“What?”

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?”

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!”

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then.

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot.

“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?”

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?”

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”

And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate.

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could.

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed.

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.”

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed.

“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?”

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads.

“Hm? Why not?”

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?”

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation.

He likes that you understand him as well as you do.

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached.

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. “What if I don’t want to be careful?”

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.”

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.”

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?”

He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye.

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.”

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission.

Looks like you’re on the same page, then.

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home.

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—”

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused.

You worry your lip between your teeth and nod.

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.”

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?”

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—”

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagine #kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's terrifying to realize you don't know if Bradley is safe. As the lonely days stretch on and on, you try to savor the notes from him. Once the final two envelopes have been opened, you know you need the real thing.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, romantic as hell Bradley, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Other than your car, everything you owned was inside Bradley's house. Over the last few weeks, Natasha helped you load up his Bronco and make a few trips down, but she looked at you like you were crazy when you told her you were going to leave most things packed up for now.

"Why?" she asked, leaning on a stack of boxes in the living room. "Even if he gets stationed in Norfolk, you'll finish out your school year here before he sells the house."

But you didn't want him to sell his house. You loved it here. Being in his living space was the closest thing to being with him when he was deployed, and you didn't think it was fair that he might have to give this up. What would Edith do without Bradley to help her? What would Bradley do in a different state without his best friend? No, you simply couldn't unpack, just in case, but you also couldn't accept Virginia with any finality until you were explicitly told it was happening.

"I just wish I could talk to him," you whispered.

"Soon," Nat replied, and you jumped, surprised to find you weren't alone in your thoughts. "I just moved a million boxes. I deserve a trip to the wine bar, and so do you. Bradley will be back soon enough."

"Nine days. Not soon enough."

It was nine days until he was supposed to get back to Norfolk. On Valentine's Day. Then right after that, it was Career Day at your school. You had been holding onto a few of the envelopes and gift cards from him, trying to make them last, but you were almost out. You needed the real thing again.

Natasha groaned. "You are so in love with him, it's kind of gross. Let's go drink wine, and I'll tell you more tales from before the mustache."

You took one more look at the few unopened letters lined up on the coffee table before grabbing the gift card for the wine bar. But even southern California looked gloomy on the drive up. The wine was good, but you were just tired. Natasha told you all about how she tried to give Bradley the call sign Chicken Man, and you laughed at the idea of that emblazoned along the side of his jet. She also seemed to be able to tell just how melancholy you were.

"You're doing great," she told you, setting down her wine glass. "You're counting down the hours until you can talk to Bradley again. Vanessa would have probably been too busy with her water bottles to remember to pick him up from the airport. There's a reason why it's hard, and it's because he loves you as much as you love him."

You did your best to keep it together after that, but there was a lump in your throat, holding back your emotions, and when you got back home, you started crying on the couch. Big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, blurring your vision, but you knew which envelope you were reaching for.

Open me when you've had a bad day

As you tore into the envelope, you realized there was another envelope inside it. The second envelope said Take me to The Bayside Florist and give me to someone who works there.

"What is this, Bradley?" you whispered out loud, reaching for your phone to see if the shop was still open this late on a Saturday. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized they closed in an hour, and you grabbed the envelope along with your phone and keys and ran out to your car.

In a matter of minutes, you parked in front of an adorable flower shop with The Bayside Florist in pink lettering on the awning. You felt a little silly taking the envelope inside, but when you were greeted by an older woman with a warm smile, you started to hand it to her.

"This might sound odd, but my boyfriend is deployed, and he left me this envelope," you said with a laugh. "Apparently I was supposed to bring it here?"

The woman adjusted her glasses as a smile found her lips. "Oh, yes. I remember him. Tall? With a mustache? Handsome?"

You bit your lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. "Yeah, that sounds just like him."

She nodded and opened the envelope, humming in agreement with whatever she read inside. "I have something for you. Wait right here."

Then she disappeared through a doorway, and you walked around the inside of the shop, examining the arrangements and enjoying the scent of so many types of flowers mingling together. You weren't quite sure what Bradley had up his sleeve from thousands of miles away, but you were almost positive it was about to make your day so much better.

"Special delivery from your boyfriend."

Startled, you spun around to see a stunning bouquet of flowers in every color on the counter, complete with an envelope tucked in amidst the blooms. "That's for me?" you whispered.

"From your boyfriend," she confirmed.

You stifled a whimper as you reached for the flowers. "Am I supposed to pay for this?"

"He already did."

Tears stung your eyes as you pulled the envelope that said Gorgeous from between two roses. It was written in his handwriting. You thought you should read it in the privacy of your own car, so you thanked the woman and then headed back outside. Once you were sitting behind the steering wheel, you set the flowers aside in favor of the note.

Gorgeous,

I never want you to have a bad day, but I really hate that you're having one when I'm not with you. If I could be anywhere in the world right now, I'd choose to be next to you. Will you write about your day in your journal so we can talk about it later? I can't wait to talk about everything with you. I love you.

Bradley

Now that the tears started, you just let yourself cry.

--------------------------

Constantly wondering if your boyfriend was even okay was taking a toll on you. Your classroom was supposed to be your safe haven right now. Your place of comfort. Your refuge. But a few days before Bradley was supposed to get back into Norfolk, you were short and snippy with your class. You didn't mean to be, but it was happening anyway.

"Just sit down," you told Oliver, voice taking on a sharp, scolding edge that was usually never there. All eighteen of your kids sat with their backs straight in their seats and their hands folded on their desks like they were worried you were going to start yelling. This was never how you wanted to conduct your class. These kids were really well behaved for the most part, and you wanted them to have a lot of fun mixed in with their school lessons.

You turned away from them to try to catch your breath. The past few nights had been filled with restless sleep and a pain in your heart that wouldn't go away until you knew Bradley was safe. You cleared your throat, trying so hard to figure out what you wanted to say for your social studies lesson, but you couldn't shake your mind free from the anxiety you were feeling.

Picturing the flowers that you put in a Miller High Life pitcher you found in the kitchen after Bradley didn't appear to own a vase made you smile enough that you were able to turn around again.

"I need everyone to open their textbook to page eighty-seven." The only sound was pages rustling as you added, "And I promise I'll make this a fun unit for us."

When you finally left work that afternoon, you decided to let yourself open the last envelope from Bradley. It had been in your tote bag for a few days, just waiting for the right moment. Open me when you really want some coffee. You could clearly use the extra caffeine today, so you tore into the envelope as you walked across the parking lot. Just like before, there was an envelope inside the first envelope.

Take me to Starbucks and give me to someone who works there.

Now you were smiling. You got to go to another place of business with an envelope like an absolute lunatic, and you were really looking forward to it. You stopped at the Starbucks closest to your school, and when you handed the envelope to the girl who tried to take your order, she raised one eyebrow.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I think it's kind of a treasure hunt of sorts from my boyfriend who is deployed," you told her with a shrug.

Then you watched her open the envelope and remove a note along with a gift card. Her eyes skimmed the text, and her face transformed into the sappiest smile. "Oh my god," she said, looking back up at you. "I wish someone loved me this much," she muttered and then turned away from you, reaching for the biggest cup and a Sharpie.

You waited awkwardly for a few minutes while she made your drink. You could tell it was your favorite drink. Bradley somehow ordered your favorite drink for you to enjoy. Warmth filled your body, and you accepted the cup from her. "Thanks," you murmured as she paid using the gift card, and that's when you realized she had written something on the cup.

Gorgeous, I love you. I can't wait to come home. Bradley

"Does he have a brother?"

You looked up at the girl who made your coffee. "What?" you asked, taking the note and the gift card from her.

"Does your boyfriend have a brother? Because that note is the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

You shook your head, but you were smiling. "No. No brother. Sorry. Thanks for making my coffee."

As you walked outside you read the note, already feeling calmer at the sight of his hand writing.

Dear Starbucks Employee,

The beautiful woman who handed you this envelope is my girlfriend. I am desperately in love with her, and I would be there with her if I could, but I'm fucking deployed, if you can believe it. Please make her favorite drink for her, and if you wouldn't mind, please write 'Gorgeous, I love you. I can't wait to come home. Bradley' on the cup? Thank you so much.

He had scrawled your favorite drink to your exact specifications below that, and it even tasted perfect. You spent the ride back to Coronado planning out your upcoming Monday. If Bradley arrived back to Virginia on time, you'd be hearing from him by then. Every fiber of your being was hoping he'd call and tell you to pick him up in San Diego, but if he had to stay in Norfolk, you'd take a day off from work to fly out and see him. You had to. You wouldn't be able to go an extra minute without him now. You wanted to hug him and kiss him and give him a blowjob. You needed to feel his hands on your body and listen to his voice while you ran your fingers along his scars.

Monday couldn't get here fast enough.

-----------------------------

The only thing Bradley wanted to do right now was get his phone in his fucking hands, but he thought that if he brought it up again, someone would tell him the thing had been mysteriously misplaced. He already asked for it three times. He'd been dropped back in Norfolk by air transport, and after a short debrief with a national security team, he would hopefully be allowed to be on his way.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. This way."

He was led into a medical facility first where his bruises and strained neck were examined and the findings were documented. When he realized he got caught up in a dog fighting scenario with the other aviators, he had been more angry than anything else. Didn't these people know he had a perfect girlfriend to get back home to? Did they even care? He made it out mostly unscathed and back to the carrier deck safely, if not a little sore. The one thing that made him almost laugh was the fact that Cyclone would undoubtedly see his medical report, and there was a good chance Admiral Walker would hear from him again.

After the medical consultation, he was led into a debriefing room where he really didn't have much to say about the mission. It had been successful, sure, but he wasn't going to be allowed to discuss it with anyone after this, so he just stuck to answering the questions he was asked.

Then finally, he was given his phone and left on his own. Of course it was nearly dead when he turned it on, but it should be good enough to reach you. Talking to you would come as his top priority before figuring out how he was getting home, but that was a close second. His heart pounded in anticipation of hearing your voice after so many weeks.

It was barely six in the morning in San Diego. Maybe you were up and getting ready for work, but maybe you were still sleeping. It didn't matter. He needed you to know he was coming home. He tapped on your photo, pulling up your contact information as the warm sun and cold Virginia air hit his skin at the same time, and he shivered as soon as the phone stopped ringing. Your voice in his ear was his reward.

"Bradley!"

"Gorgeous," he sighed, suddenly so exhausted, he could barely stand. One word from you, and all he wanted to do was curl up on his couch with his head on your lap and let you take care of everything.

"Bradley!" You shrieked this time, and he smiled.

"Baby, I'm coming home."

"For good?" you asked, voice soft with an edge of concern that he wanted nothing more than to ease away. "Or just long enough to pack some things and head back to Norfolk?"

He hoisted his duffle onto his shoulder and started walking. "I'm coming home for good. Coming home to you."

---------------------------------

He's safe and he's coming home! I'm working on mapping out the remaining chapters of this story, so if there's something you want to read about, hit me up. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

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mapsthewanderer · 25 days ago

Text

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Details: 1500 words of unhinged, freaky, filthy nonsense porn. I had an idea for a headcanon and wanted to write it a bit differently this time—more like a short story, since I really enjoyed writing the venom-sucking scene that way. I went overboard with “look” sorry lol. It is what it is. Anyway: Turn back now—this road doesn’t end in purity.

Features: Mirror worship, name kink, 18+ notinoti tension, and absolutely no plot—just porn. Dom-bottom!Caleb, unrelenting praise, dirty talk galore and him losing his damn mind over you. No thoughts, just Caleb.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Mirror | Caleb smut

——————————————————————————

Hey you

Hope you’re doing something fun today. And when I’m back, you can tell me all about it while I make you dinner and pretend I’m not jealous I missed it.

There’s a package being delivered in a few days—something big. Don’t worry about it. Just sign for it and leave it where they drop it. I’ll handle the rest when I’m home.

No peeking. No touching it. That’s my job. Pinky promise?

Don’t eat all the apple jam without me. And if you do… fine. I’ll make more. You’re so spoiled, aren’t you?Good thing I like you that way.

Yours,

Caleb

——————————————————————————

You forget about the letter—mostly. Until three days later, when the front door buzzes and two delivery guys drop a massive, flat box in the hallway. You eye it warily. Caleb said not to touch it.

So you didn’t. But it sat there, humming with promise—huge, heavy, unopened. Like it was watching you back.

Then one afternoon, you come home early.

And there he is.

Shirt half-off, jeans slung low, drill in one hand, focused and smirking up at the ceiling where a mirror the size of sin is halfway mounted above the bed.

He hears you come in but doesn’t look right away—just presses the mirror into place, flexing way too much as he checks the alignment. Then he turns, eyes catching yours. That familiar heat flickers behind the smugness.

“Oh good,” he says casually. “You’re home.”

You blink. “Caleb. What the hell is that?”

He saunters over like he didn’t just commit to the most unholy home improvement in history.

“Well,” he says, cupping your waist like he’s about to ask for a dance instead of ruin you, “remember that night? You on my lap. Me on the edge of the bed. That mirror across the room?”

You stare at him.

He leans in.

“Yeah. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers warm, voice a low, playful growl in your ear.

“So I figured… let’s try a better view.”

The drill hits the floor with a soft thud. Caleb’s already undoing his belt as he nudges you back toward the bed with nothing but a look—that look. The one that says he’s in control now. The one that says you’re not going anywhere.

He sits down first, back against the headboard, legs spread like he’s waiting for you to climb into place. He’s already half-hard, eyes flicking between your face and the giant mirror now gleaming above the bed.

“Do me a favor,” he says, voice rough, patient. A glance at your clothes, then back to your eyes. “I’ve had this image in my head for weeks—let’s make it real.”

You obey—slow, a little shy under his gaze until you glance up and see yourself reflected back: flushed cheeks, bare skin, Caleb behind you like a storm waiting to break. You swallow. He smirks.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Now come here.”

You straddle him, thighs spread wide over his lap, hands on his chest. His cock, thick and hot, presses between your legs—not inside you yet, but close. So close.

Caleb leans in, kissing your throat, your collarbone, then lower—pausing just long enough to breathe against your skin before his mouth closes over your nipple and his hand slides down your belly like he owns it.

Then his voice low, dark, reverent.

“Look up.”

You do.

And you see it.

The way one hand slides under you, fingers gliding between your legs, and suddenly you’re moving without thinking, chasing pressure he’s barely begun to give.

“Mm… Stay right here.” He’s already pulling you into place. “I want to see your face when you fall apart—and I want you to see what I look like when you make me lose it.”

You sink onto him—inch by inch, your mouth falling open as he fills you, his breath catching with yours.

In the mirror, it’s everything. His hands on your waist. Your hips moving together. The tension in his jaw as he grips tighter and holds you still.

“Look at that,” he groans. “Look how perfect you are.”

You try to glance down at him, but his hand slides to your jaw, tilts your face back up.

“No,” Caleb says, voice suddenly low and dangerous. “Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see what you do to me.”

You do. And it’s ruinous.

Because you see his eyes flick up too—watching your reflection as he thrusts up into you, harder now, his hands guiding your rhythm. You see the way he bites his lip when you start to lose control. The way his fingers tighten when your head tips back. The utter worship in his face when he realizes you’re close.

But he’s losing it too. You feel it in the way his rhythm starts to slip—deeper, harder, desperate.

You try to glance down again, overwhelmed—but he doesn’t let you.

His hand slides up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. He leans up, chest pressing flush to yours, his other hand still firm on your hip as he starts to thrust up into you from beneath—slow, deep, wrecking you from the inside out.

“I said no,” he breathes, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, just before his hand tightens—not rough, just insistent. He tilts your face up. “Look. Look at you.”

And there it is again—the reflection of you in the mirror, riding him, flushed and open and coming apart around him. And him—muscles flexed, jaw clenched, lips parted as he watches you watch yourself.

He smiles.

Smiles.

That crooked, breathless, boyish grin like he’s got everything he’s ever wanted and then some.

“Say it,” he growls, voice ragged as his fingers dig into your hips. “Say who you belong to.”

His name slips from your lips like it’s the only word left in you. And Caleb watches it happen in the mirror—the sound, the look on your face, the way you give yourself over to him.

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

And then he buries his face in your neck like he can’t take it—like you’re too much, like if he keeps looking at you he might actually fall apart. His breath is ragged against your skin. His hands are clutching now, holding you like he needs you to stay right here, exactly like this, forever.

He moans your name into your throat, hips grinding up just a little harder, a little slower.

“I want to come inside you and still keep watching. I want to watch you take every drop like you were made for me.”

Your body jerks at his words—sharp, wrecked—and that’s it. That’s the moment his composure breaks completely.

“Oh, fuck. Nh—no, keep going—don’t stop.”

He’s rambling now, half-coherent, thrusting up into you so deep your breath stutters. His mouth finds your collarbone, kisses turning frantic, almost messy.

“I’ve never—never wanted anything like this,” he chokes out, voice wrecked. “I want to live right here, inside you, under you, watching you fall apart for me over and over and—shit—please—”

And then—

He grabs your chin, thumb slipping under your jaw, and tilts your face up.

“Look at us,” he pants. “Look at us. Look what you let me do to you.”

You both look—your body wrapped around his, your movements erratic, needy, soaked, his cock buried in you and his face wrecked with pleasure and awe. His arm tight around your waist. His other hand still holding your jaw. You’re not riding anymore—he’s fucking up into you, hard and deep, like he needs to watch you come as badly as he needs to breathe.

You moan. Loud. High. And his eyes snap to yours in the mirror.

And that’s all it takes.

He comes like it costs him his soul—like he’s choking on every breath he held back just to last a second longer inside you, hips stuttering as he spills into you. His head drops to your shoulder, breath ragged—but his eyes stay open.

Locked on the mirror.

On you.

On this.

Your bodies, tangled. Strong arms wrapped tight around your waist. Your mouth still parted from the moan you haven’t recovered from. Flushed skin, your chest rising with his. Wrecked. Claimed. His.

He stares like a man who’s already damned—and thinks you’re worth every second in hell.

And then, barely a whisper—

“That’s mine.”

A beat. His voice cracks when it comes back.

“All of that.”

His lips find your shoulder, your neck, your cheek—frantic now, like he can’t stop.

“You see now what you look like when you’re full of me?”

His hands tremble where they grip your hips.

“Fucking perfect. Ruined. Mine.”

Then, raw and hoarse, soaked in awe: “You look like a dream in my hands. I should’ve put that mirror up a long time ago.”

And neither of you can look away.

Not from the mess.

Not from the mirror.

Not from what it means to be seen like this—and still loved down to the bone.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Your viscera welcome me in

Welcome me in

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Art credit: baclegg_mm, so.0_ck on instagram, some kind of bl novel lol send help I can’t find it.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

#i spiraled 🌀#fuqin vore fueled stuff yea sleep token is the best for caleb HCs #freaky shit probably #i should be writing my series but my guttered brain is what it is #yea I had to write something to debrief from ploughing through 3 books of HOB lol #love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #you x caleb #love and deepspace smut #caleb smut

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psychocitywrites · 19 days ago

Text

Hard Truths - IV

Summary: Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

TW: Harassment

On your final day at Kook academy (as your friends liked to call it) you held on to an envelope as you looked at the crowd around you. It was your graduation day and both you and Rafe had already given the valedictorian and salutatorian speeches respectively, and you were nervously playing with the rings on your fingers as the final commencements were playing out.

Inside the envelope was a small letter you had written to give to Rafe, letting him know how remarkable you thought he was and that he was the reason that you joined so many classes and clubs during your time in Kildare.

During your school days, you'd often catch Rafe staying behind classes, not afraid to ask for extra help from his teachers and peers, and it inspired you to do the same. Eventually, you found yourself joining things you'd enjoy, which coincidentally were the same things Rafe was doing, and it might have looked a bit stalkerish from his point of view.

At the very end of the note, you had confessed that you had feelings for him and if he didn't feel that same, then he could ignore the contents of the letter.

The moment you saw Rafe, you wanted to walk up to him and hand over the letter. However, he was surrounded by many friends and family, something you didn't have as your family still lived apart from you and your friends weren't welcome on this side of the island.

You'd only had your uncle, who came by for support, and he made sure to take as many photos of you as he could before you ushered him away, claiming that he was embarrassing you. But deep down, you were thankful that he was being extra. as it took your mind off of Rafe and made your nerves calm just a little bit.

"One more, one more! I swear!" Your uncle shouted.

Your lips were starting to wobble from keeping the same smile for too long. As you were about to tell him no more, he exclaimed that his battery was almost dead. "Imma get my backup! Don't move! Stay right here! Or else I'm leaving you behind!"

That made you laugh. "You're my ride! Where else would I go?"

He literally sprinted to go get another device and waved at you before leaving, going to his truck. At that moment. you saw Rafe in the corner of your eye. He was alone now, his hands carrying a Buch of flower arrangements. His expression wasn't as gleeful as yours, but you chalked it up to him being tired of being the center of attention. Thinking it was the last time you'd ever run into him, you gathered the rest of your courage and walked up to him.

"Hi Rafe." He turned his attention to you and kept his face neutral. "Congratulations, I really enjoyed the speech you put out. I was hoping you'd be okay if I give this to you?"

You grabbed the letter from one of your pockets, and handed it directly to him. "What is it?" He roughly asked.

"Oh! Um, it's just a letter I wrote. It's not too important." It was to you at the time. "You can actually open it whenever you get the chance."

Before you could ramble on some more, Ward called Rafe over to take more photos with Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe gave a small smile. "Hey, sorry. I gotta go." He carefully took the envelope from your shaking hands, even though his hands were full of flowers and then placed it into his pocket before walking back to his family.

Your heart was racing and you could hear the thumping literally in your ears. You walked back to wait for your uncle and he came not long after gasping for air.

"Geez, I gotta do some more cardio! What'd I miss?" You shook your head and chuckled before letting him resume his photography. That night, as you started packing you belongings to move back home, unbeknownst to you, your letter was carelessly thrown in a drawer in the Cameron household drawer and was left unopened, forgotten by Rafe entirely.

---

When you woke up, you promised yourself to take it easy, that you’d make your day more productive and focus on your work in order to forget the awkwardness form the day before. It was what you used to do when you felt a bit of heartache, like when you felt homesick, you’d put all your attention towards studying to forget the feeling of loneliness.

You had put on your best suit, the one that made you feel the most confident in, did your make up lightly to cover the dark circles under your eyes, and spritz on your favorite perfume. Then, you looked in the mirror one last time before you left. You liked what you saw, a reflection of a woman who worked hard to be where she stood.

You reminded yourself that there were good days and bad days, and while yesterday ended on a sour note, you didn’t want to bring any negative energy to your workplace.

Rafe had texted you asking you for Miss Hayworth’s favorite flowers and a copy of her schedule, and that he would be showing up later to surprise her. You texted back with an answer, knowing that Heather was a typical romantic and loved getting roses and chocolates.

When you arrived, you were still waiting for your boss to show up. It wasn’t normal for Heather to be late since she always wanted to leave a good impression towards her colleagues, and that also included you.

You felt your phone buzz in hands, and it was Miss Hayworth.

Heather: Running late. In some unexpected traffic. Can you handle my first appointment?

You sighed as you sat down at your desk and typed a response back.

You: Of course! Be safe.

You checked Miss Hayworth’s schedule, and she was supposed to meet a Kyle Richardson at nine in the morning. You’ve heard of him before, but very vaguely. Miss Hayworth had once mentioned that he was a bit unpleasant to be around.

You put your phone down and went to work, starting off with reviewing documents and organizing paperwork.

You often corrected mistakes from other departments, reviewed legal documents, and gave Heather the most accurate data in the files she needed for meetings.

When you were an intern, you made sure to be as attentive to those around you, and you picked up on what your colleagues liked and disliked to do in the office. Heather noticed this, and offered you to be her personal assistant while the one before you was on maternity leave. She made sure to tell you that it was only temporary, but had confidence that you'd find a better opportunity elsewhere with her as a recommendation.

As you typed on your computer, you made sure to check the time every now and then. It was fifteen past nine when he arrived, you understood what she meant. Unpleasant was being nice. Kyle was a jackass. He came in strutting like he was the most important person in the room, even though it was just the two of you.

“Heather sure knows how to pick’em. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. You must be the new temp hire.”

It made your skin crawl when he leered at you, looking at you up and down before his eyes stayed at your legs. You weren’t even dressed inappropriately, but you instinctively pulled down your skirt.

He slid near your desk and introduced himself while you were still sat. He stood just a little too close and smelled of overpowering cologne. It was the kind that made your nostrils burn and eyes water a little.

You’ve had to deal with your fair share of assholes before, and you were pretty sure Heather did too, however, since it was just you in her office for now, it made the situation just a bit more uncomfortable since your boss wasn’t here to witness the harassment.

The ticking from a hanging wall clock was the only sound you could hear, with the occasional outside noise from the city just waking up.

“Miss Hayworth is running a little behind. She requests that I take care of you while she on her way here.” You got out and pointed to a chair in front of your desk. “She’ll be here shortly.” You hoped so.

However, when you mentioned it would just be the two of you for the time being, Kyle’s demeaner didn’t change. Instead, it seemed to make him bolder in his provocations. “Oh, I’m sure you can take care of me real good.”

He didn’t move from beside you. Instead, his hands found your shoulders, but you jumped right as he gripped you, feeling repulsed by his touch. “What are you doing!”

“Aww, come on. Let’s not pretend that you don’t know how you got here. You probably gave a few favors here and there. Why don’t you come work for me? The benefits are worth it.”

You hated what he was insinuating. Although you didn’t come from money, you’d studied your ass off and graduated at the time of your class with a degree in business. You were about to utter a string of profanity at the sexist asshole before a voice interrupted your outburst.

“Am I interrupting something here?”

___

When Rafe woke up in the morning, the last thing on his mind was you being in any kind of danger. He’d felt a little guilty for springing up his plans on you, but when you agreed, it eased his conscience just a little.

After he dropped you off, he’d texted his friends what had happened when he went back to his apartment. Topper’s response was as expected, while Kelce’s had him cluching his phone a little more.

Topper: Yoooo aint no way Topper: Never thought I’d see the day Rafe Cameron actually put in some effort for another girl Topper: that mean you gonna agree on Ruthie’s double date plans??? Rafe: Fuck off Topper: :((( Topper: Why you gotta do me like that Kelce: You sure y/n is fine with this? Rafe: yeah, why wouldn’t she be Kelce: It just feels a little manipulative. Like you’re getting the answers to a quiz you didn’t study for Topper: He’s gotta point Rafe: So im the bad guy for using all my resources to get with someone? Rafe: Nah. We both want the same things at the end of the day Kelce: Which is? Rafe: Marriage. She gets her position in her company and I get a wife Rafe: it’s a win win Topper: So you’re gonna invite Heather to Ward’s anniversary celebration? Topper: Thats gonna shut him up frfr Rafe: probably

He left it at that before going to sleep.

The day after, Rafe walked into the Hayworth Headquarter building holding a bouquet of red roses and a box of Godiva chocolates. He texted you that morning asking what flowers Heather would like and what else he should get her.

y/n: Miss Hayworth likes red roses. y/n: and chocolates. Preferably dark and the fancy kind. The more expensive, the better.

You responded pretty quickly that he was surprised you’d be up at seven in the morning. She must be an early bird.

He made his way toward the office of Heather Hayworth and saw you. And he almost dopped the flowers. Your face was stricken with apprehension, but he could see a little bit of uneasiness behind your eyes. Your shoulders were stiff, and your were shaking.

Right next to you was a man he knew pretty well in the business world. Similar to Rafe, Kyle Richardson was a trust fund baby. However, that was probably the only thing in common they had together.

Kyle was the youngest son of a business tycoon, so he'd never be anyone's boss. Rafe would often see him clowning around at important business events and frolicking with high end escorts that kept him company. Generally, an embarrassment to his family.

Rafe has never been the guy you'd love to bring home to your parents, but he'd still be miles ahead compared to Kyle. So when he saw your reaction and heard Kyle's appalling words, he fumed.

“Am I interrupting something here?”

Immediately, Kyle stepped back like he was caught red handed doing something bad. He looked a little annoyed to be interrupted until he saw Rafe.

"You should've told me you had a boyfriend. I would've back off" Kyle Said, thinking the roses and chocolates Rafe held were for you.

Liar. Rafe said in his mind. "Nah, I don't think so. Even if she had one, you'd still be an asshole."

Kyle's face went red. If you didn't know any better, he looked like he could blow steam out both of his ears. "It was just a joke. Come on, man. Don't y'all know how to have fun?" He tried to deflect.

"Don't think you know what a woman having fun looks like. Y/n here looks like she'd rather jump in front of a bus."

"Excuse me? Do you know who I am? Who the fuck do you think you are?" He screeched, his attention now fully on Rafe.

Rafe just smirked. "I know you, you're Larry's kid, right? I don't think he'd take to kindly to hear what his asshat of a son is doing while he's suppose to sign over legal documents to Hayworth Hotels."

At the mention of Lawrence Richardson, the family patriarch, Kyle's face went white as a ghost. He gulped and asked, "How the fuck would he even know? It's your word against mine"

Rafe glance over to you, still reeling from the interaction. You looked shaken, and embarrassed which was so unlike you. He frowned thinking of what would've happened if he wasn't here.

"Well, it the two of us against you, so I think I've got the better odds." He said calmly, but you could sense that he was trying to control the anger that was practically radiating off his body.

"So how about we make a deal?" Rafe suggested. "Apologize to her and I might just let this slide."

Kyle looked like he'd rather eat shit. You thought he probably never had to apologize to another person ever in his life. He turned to face you and gritted through his teeth, "I'm sorry."

Before Kyle could even get in another word, Rafe ended the mater with a simple command. "Get out." He said coldly, leaving no room for arguments.

He didn't even have to repeat himself, as Kyle hastily ran out the office, ego probably bruised. Rafe then turn his attention to you.

"You good?" He wasn't the best at comforting people, but his tone made you feel safe.

"Yeah," you said softly. "just a little shocked. That's all."

Rafe placed the flowers and chocolate on your desk before guiding you back to your seat. He then abruptly left the room before swiftly coming back crouching down near your chair and bringing a bottle of water. He handed it to you. "Here. Cold water, to help with anxiety."

He noticed your hands were still shaking as you tried to open it. "Hold on. Let me." He said as he twist the cap off. Drinking it silently, the only noise was the ticking from the clock.

"How did you know?" You asked.

"How did I know what?" He questioned.

"That cold water helps."

Rafe didn't think you would ask about that, but if it made you forget about the Kyle situation, he would readily answer you. "Because I used to have a lot of anxiety when I was younger. Ya know? Being Ward Cameron's and all."

You blinked. You hadn't known. You stared at the bottle in your hands, suddenly remembering your interactions in the past and why he was the way he was to you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Hey, don't do that. Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong." He noticed you fidgeting your fingers and hesitantly covered your hands with one of his. His hands felt warm against yours, and you hated how you loved the small act of comfort. You were supposed to move on from Rafe, but he made it difficult to do so.

You sighed. "Thank you for today, Rafe." You two stayed like that for a while before Rafe's phone started to vibrate and he stood up to look at it, taking his hand with him. You missed the warmth already.

When Rafe picked up, Topper had called him asking where he was and that he was needed back at his office. "Ward's been asking where you are and I can only keep saying restroom so many times."

Rafe sighed. He was reluctant to leave you alone but it seemed like Kyle had taken his warning literally, so he responded with, "I'm on my way. Just let him know I dealing with something personal. I'll think of something when I get back." He hung up before Topper could respond.

"Are you gonna be okay?" He asked you.

You hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Rafe's call, but you heard that he was needed back to his own company and felt guilty that you had kept him from going, so you nodded. "Yeah, Miss Hayworth should be showing up any time now, and security should be in too. Don't worry about it Rafe."

He had looked unconvinced but decided to let it go. "Hey, y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you just let Heather know those are for her?"

You looked back to your desk and saw the beautiful flowers and expensive chocolate. Finally remembering why he came. "Yeah. Of course. She'll be very happy to see these." You said softly.

"And one more thing. If he ever comes back, don't hesitate to let me know. I'll make sure he never messes with you or anyone else again." With that, he walked out the door and began his journey back to Cameron Development.

You stared at the door before your eyes fell on to the bottle in your hands, your mind wrestling with your heart after the development of today's events.

I'm so screwed.

Taglist: @lolabunnyworldss @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @toomanywhitelies @wuluhwuhmaster @maybankslover @ivy-34

#hard truths #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #psychocity fics

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kaciidubs · 2 years ago

Text

Surprise! | Felix x Reader

❣ In collaboration with @onmykneesforchanlix ❣

❣ Summary: Felix was a cat shifter, living most of his days in his cat form due to unfortunate living circumstances. That is, until you found him one rainy night and his life changed for the better. Years later, he decides that it's time to finally reveal himself to you fully. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 5.5k+ ❣ Warnings: Cat Shifter! Felix, slight Dom! Reader, Pussy Drunk! Felix, smut, slight angst [Felix's life before Reader], fluff, first time as a semi-couple, feminization [Felix wears Reader's clothes], unprotected sex, decryphilia, creampie, begging, praise, desperate/needy love making ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Felix is referred to as kitten, Lix, Lixie, fluffy ending ❣ ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣

Felix’s early life wasn’t much to brag about; growing up in an era where animal shifters were being seen less as a threat and more as an equal was a blessing in disguise, but that didn’t mean he had it easy. There was still discrimination, prejudice, and general unease, and even as a cat shifter he wasn’t free from any of them; losing his part time job due to “staff overflow” and his tenant kicking him and multiple shifter families out of their apartment building due to “remodeling”.

His roommates at the time were able to fall back on family members or other friends, but he was by himself in the city, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking them if they could house him until he got back on his feet. So, he tried getting by on his own until he could find new roommates or someone willing to host shifters.

He was able to stay a few nights at a hostel, applying to any place that had a hiring sign while earning his keep by helping the owner of the hostel - however, he wasn’t able to keep it that way for long. Which is how he found himself surviving in his cat form, easier to maintain throughout the night as he slept in worn out boxes off the side of the road.

Then, one rainy night changed his life for the better - the night he met you.

You, who was walking the dark, rainy streets with a broken umbrella and your face tucked as far into your jacket as it could go.

You, who stopped in your tracks when you saw him sleeping in that small, water damaged cardboard box just outside of an alleyway.

You, who scooped him up and tucked him into the free space of your jacket before taking him back to your apartment with the promise of taking care of him for the night.

Well, what started out as one night turned into two years and counting by your side as your loving little orange cat, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way - save for a few key things. The major one being he had yet to reveal his human form to you while you were home.

He figured that you had a feeling about him not being only a cat, from the way he participated in your morning routines with his own tasks - you doing your hair was him grooming himself, you brushing your teeth was him having a dental treat until you left so he could shift and actually brush his teeth - to the way you still had an unopened 16-count of cat food because he preferred eating the dinner you had over any form of gourmet tuna.

But, you never mentioned anything about it, you never even made a sly passing comment despite the way he’d participate in your one-sided conversations with too many coincidental meows or glares whenever you said something he didn’t agree with.

You even wrote out the alphabet on a sheet of paper so he could “pick his own name”, using his small paws to walk over the letters ‘F’ ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘X’ before rubbing his face against the side of yours with a content purr.

All of these events culminated into this moment now, where he was currently sitting on your bed in his human form freshly showered and naked as the day he was born; the pajama shirt you wore that night laid out in front of him.

Tonight was the night Felix was going to show you the real him, the him he hid from you out of fear that you wouldn’t want to keep him around anymore, fear that he’d go from your kitty ‘Lixie’ to just another alley cat.

His plan was simple, really; dress in your clothes to give him the comfort and confidence he needed and surprise you once you got back from work, apologize for not letting you know the night you brought him home, and hope that the kindness you've shown him for the past two years would continue further.

Orange tail swishing behind him with anticipation, he wasted no time in pulling the pink shirt onto his arms before slipping it over his head, quickly engulfing himself in your warm scent and soft cotton.

Smoothing out the top, his soft brown eyes landed on the piece of clothing he forgot he even took out, his human ears turning red at the sight of your white panties laying bright against the blanket.

He didn’t have any clothes at your place, usually reserving himself the grace of either wandering around nude or donning one of your hoodies and a pair of underwear he’d make sure to wash himself before you got home; and this plan had the added point of him wearing something to cover his exposed lower half.

Hence, the white lace panties with pink bows that he was sliding up his pale legs and tucking himself into, finishing off his look for the night.

Perfect.

Sneaking a peek at himself in the mirror near your closet, he felt a low rumble in his chest - the shirt slightly swamped him and the panties’ waistband sat comfortably below his tail to not cause irritation or annoyance, this couldn’t have worked out more perfectly in his favor.

A soft yawn tumbled from his lips and he glanced at the small digital clock you kept on the nightstand; a little less than an hour and a half until you came home, which meant he had more than enough time for a quick nap before his plan would go into effect.

Stretching his arms to the sky with an even bigger yawn, he allowed himself to curl up against your sheets and close his heavy eyelids - content purrs escaping him with each exhale.

“Lixie! I’m home!”

His ears perked up at your voice and he stretched with a big yawn, slowly rolling himself into a sitting position and tiredly rubbing his eye until his brain finally kicked into gear; you were home.

A rush of excitement ran through him as he scrambled onto his knees, hands seated in his lap as he stared at the door in anticipation - his heart thumping hard in his chest.

What were you going to say? Would you still like him as a human? What if he wasn’t pretty enough in his human form?

His ears drooped as he deflated, small hands now anxiously playing with the hem of the shirt that was supposed to be his comfort. He heard you shuffle around the adjacent room, mentally going through the routine he’d seen you do time and time again; keys in dish, shoes at the door, work bag on the chair in the living room.

“Lixie? Where are you, kitten?”

The closer your footsteps grew toward the bedroom door, the more he wished he could shrink in on himself - it wasn't too late to change back, was it? No, no, he wanted you to see him - he wanted to show you the real him.

“Lixie?”

Where was he? He usually greeted you at the door, meowing loudly at you while rubbing himself at your legs. Maybe he was still asleep, curled up on his favourite place, your pillows?

You quietly made your way to the bedroom, your hands resting on the handle for a second before opening the door.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what happened next.

“Lix-” Your eyes met a familiar warm brown set, but that wasn’t what stopped you in your tracks.

No, it was the fact that said eyes belonged to a blond man currently sitting in the middle of your bed, dressed in your sleep shirt and nothing else - at least, that’s what you could assume from the sight of his bare thighs.

Maybe you should have screamed - should have shouted curses and threatened to call the police but all you could do was blink at the man. Opening your mouth to say something, the words get stuck in your throat, making you swallow thickly while your eyes lingered on the man in front of you.

Felix felt small under your gaze, shy even. He nervously pulled the shirt to cover his legs when he noticed you staring at his bare thighs.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea, he thought to himself.

He wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything - any words or sounds dying before they even reached his throat. His eyes met yours when he looked up, and he noticed a small smile forming on your lips.

“Lixie?” You questioned quietly.

He felt his ears twitch at the sound of his name, catching the notes of joy adding sunlight to the word; his tail swishing in response. You seemed to like his reaction because you took a small step away from the doorway before rushing toward where he was sitting.

“Oh... my little Lixie! Look at you- I can’t believe it- My cute little kitten is a shifter!”

Felix felt himself blush at the awe in your tone, his hands tightening against the hem of your shirt.

“Lixie,” you hummed as you ran your fingers through his soft blond hair, “you’re so pretty.”

Felix’s lips curled up into a smile, and when your fingers found that spot behind his ears - scratching just the way he liked - he couldn’t help but start purring.

The first word to leave his lips is your name - his voice a bit raspy since he hadn't spoken properly in months.

“Why didn't you show yourself sooner, kitty?” You cooed, tracing your fingertips down the side of his face and stopping at the soft curve of his chin, smiling when he leaned into your hold.

“I…” He swallowed thickly, nearly shocking himself at how deep his voice was, “I wanted to but... I didn't think you'd like me anymore…” He couldn't help but hold your gaze, addicted to the soft sparkle in your irises as you studied him.

“Why would you think that, hm? You're my Lixie,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes never leaving his, “You’re my pretty kitty…” You gave him a reassuring smile, your thumbs running along his reddened cheeks.

With the way you looked at him with so much love and care, he couldn’t help but blush - his cheeks dusted in a pretty pink.

“Look at you,” a soft laugh fell from your lips, and he suddenly wondered what it would be like to feel them against his own, “wearing my shirt? Were you trying to turn yourself into a gift for me?”

A hot flush ran down his back, goosebumps rising on his skin as he remembered what exactly he's wearing.

“N-Not just your shirt…” He stammered, gaze falling in embarrassment from the guilty admission.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, and instead of answering you, Felix leaned back and lifted up the shirt - not all the way, but just enough to reveal the panties he stole out of your drawer.

You sucked in a breath at the sight, pink little bows decorating the white lace he was wearing. It was your favourite pair, Felix knew that.

That's why he chose them.

They were a bit small for him, but he didn't mind - he just hoped that you were okay with it too.

“Lix…” His name left you in a breathless sigh, a hand falling from his cheek to graze up his thigh, but no further than that. “You really turned yourself into a gift for me, huh?”

You knew how the lace fit your body, but the sight of the white patterns hugging his slim hips and slightly bulging over his dick had your brain whirring. You didn't miss the soft whimper that fell from his lips, or the way his legs shifted toward your touch.

Felix bit down on his lip when he felt your fingertips ghosting over his inner thigh, barely touching him. He spread his legs a bit, hoping you’d get the hint and touch him - but you didn't, your fingers running up his thigh and stopping before they reached the lace, then down again.

“You know... it really makes me sad you didn’t shift for me sooner.” His eyes widened slightly, bottom lip jutting out in a pout until you continued, “We could’ve had so much fun way sooner than this.” There was a sharp glint in your eye that made him whine, his hands tugging the shirt higher up his stomach.

“I’m... sorry,” he mumbled, trying to hide his face with the shirt until you stopped him.

“It's okay Lix,” your hands came up to tug on his shirt, “why don’t you take this off for me, hm?”

He nodded, wasting no time in pulling it over his head and throwing it next to the bed.

“So pretty,” you whispered, brushing his hair out of his face.

Your fingers grazed against his ears in the process and he moaned, the melodic sound melting into a purr that you practically felt vibrating from his chest.

“They’re still sensitive even in your human form…” Humming, you caressed your thumb along the base, “Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“P-Please,” he whimpered, his hands itching to reach out to you from where they were planted on the bed, “it feels so... good.”

“Feels good, yeah? I can make you feel even better... if you let me.” You moved your hand from his ears to his chest, gently pushing him back to lay on the bed.

Your fingers brushed over his nipple and he gasped at the sudden rush coursing through his body.

Eyes flickering down from his eyes to his lips, you leaned in closer with a soft whisper just barely grazing the pink skin, “Kiss me, kitten.”

Felix lifted his head so fast he was shocked he didn’t accidentally headbutt you as your lips met.

It was different, so different from the way you would kiss the top of his head when he’s curled in your arms in his cat form, yet the softness remained the same. He didn’t think it could get any better until he felt your lips part, and when your thumb and finger pinched his nipple, he gasped and your tongue was ghosting against his own.

He let his tongue run along yours, humming lowly in the back of his throat. His cock was already hard and straining against the lace; the tip leaking pre cum, forming a small wet patch.

It hurt, but Felix didn’t know how to ask you for more. He tugged on your shirt, wanting you closer.

You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, pulling back just enough so that your noses remained touching. “Eager little kitten, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

Pecking his lips one last time, you sat up - kneeling just above his lap - and pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it where the pajama shirt laid.

Felix’s eyes widened - he’d seen you in your underwear before, sure, but taking in your body in his human form had fireworks going off in his head. You looked soft - he knew you was soft - but he needed to feel you with his hands, his mouth, anything you allowed.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, staring at every bit of exposed skin, wetting his dry lips with his tongue.

You laughed shyly, trying to cover yourself with your hands, “Don’t look at me like that. You've seen me in underwear before - hell, you’ve even seen me naked!"

Felix felt the blush spreading on his face - it was true, he had seen you naked, too many times to count, but that was when he was in his cat form; sitting on the counter in the bathroom when you took a shower or a bath, never leaving you out of sight.

“I-I know! But-” This time, he allowed his hands to touch your forearms, trailing up the skin to your wrists, then the backs of your hands, “I... I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to see you like this- touch you like this.” He kept his touch strictly on your hands, resting over the bra that kept the sight of his dreams hidden away. “I want... C-Can I see more? Please, I wanna see you.”

“You could've had me like this months ago, kitten.” Your tone was smug, but you still reached behind you to unclasp your bra - not taking it off just yet, “It’s okay, you can touch me.” Your hands reached for his as you guided them to your bra straps. "Help me take this off?"

Felix swallowed thickly, his hands shaking a bit from how nervous he was. He didn't want to fuck this up. This might be his only chance.

His fingers grazed the straps and he immediately decided he hates the texture - too rough, no wonder why you were always rolling your shoulders once it was off. Eyebrows furrowing at the offensive clothing, he slowly pulled them down the curves of your shoulders and had to physically fight back the moan growing from the way the bra went slack - your breasts threatening to spill from the cups already.

“Keep going, Lixie, take it all the way off for me.”

Felix pulled it down completely before throwing it aside, his hand itching to touch you. Reaching out hesitantly, he lets a finger run over the soft flesh of your bare breasts; goosebumps spreading over your skin as you send him a reassuring smile and a nod, giving him the okay to continue.

He doesn’t waste any more time cupping your breasts with his hands, squeezing them carefully.

If he thought kneading his own blankets was heaven, then this was damn near nirvana; your breasts resting in the palms of his hands - or at least, what he could fit - while the rest squished up with each flex of his hands.

“You-You’re so soft... oh, fuck, you’re so soft.”

You shivered at the curse falling from his angelic lips - the thought of your kitten, your Lixie, so smitten over what he’d seen time and time again making your core throb. “Softer than that blanket I spent so much money on for you?” You teased, laughing at the pout that overtook his lips.

“That’s different! You... You feel better than any blanket or any pillow I've ever laid on.”

“You’re so cute, I’m just teasing you.” Taking his hands away from you, you pinned them down on the mattress near his head, leaning over him with a teasing grin.

It took all the strength Felix had to not cum right then and there; your breasts were right in front of his face, giving him the chance to kiss the soft flesh before circling his tongue around one of your nipples.

You moaned at the sudden attack, your hands tightening around his wrists while his mouth toyed with the hardening bud. Without having to be told, he released your tit with a wet pop before latching onto the second, making a sound you couldn’t tell was a moan or a purr.

“Lixie.” You moaned, and if Felix's eyes weren’t shut you would’ve seen them roll to the back of his head. You barely touched him and he was already at his peak, wondering how it was even possible to feel anything better than this.

He bucked his hips up, moaning loudly at the delicious friction and the waves of pleasure running through his body. His eyes were closed tightly, mouth agape with breathless pants rolling past his lips.

He was so close, he could almost taste the orgasm on his tongue but he fought against it. He didn't want to cum like this, not yet.

"Please," he whimpered, not sure what he was even asking for.

“Keep your hands up here, Lixie, okay?” You slowly sat up, trying not to laugh at the needy whine that settled in his throat when your chest no longer surrounded his head. “Keep them up there or else I’ll stop, understand?”

He nodded senselessly, eyes glossy and chest flushed pink; he nearly forgot how to breathe when he saw your hands go to your jeans, popping the button open and sliding the zipper down. He nearly cried when you shifted off of him, only for you to shush him with a tut of your tongue.

“Gotta take my pants off first Lixie, I told you I can make you feel even better, and I will.”

You turned away from him, pulling your jeans teasingly slow over the curve of your ass before pulling them off completely - repeating the same process with your underwear.

Felix couldn't help but stare at your ass, almost drooling at the sight. His hands moved to reach out to touch you but he stopped himself before you could notice, repositioning them next to his head in hopes of going unnoticed.

Leaving your clothes in a puddle by your feet, you quickly climbed your way back onto the bed and over Felix’s lap - not sitting down just yet. “You know, as much as I said you missed out on showing me the real you before, I can’t wait to see what I’ve been missing out on too.” You danced your fingers up his stomach and to his chest teasingly, watching as his hands fisted the sheets underneath him. “I’ll take good care of you, kitten.”

Felix watched as you lowered yourself so settle in his lap and a sharp moan escaped him, the warmth of your pussy settling over the thin lace he still had on.

He fought the urge to look down between your bodies, wanting to take a peek but instead looking up at you, trying to grind his hips up against yours. “Please... I- I can’t.. I want,” he stuttered out, “it hurts.”

“Use your words Lixie,” you hummed, a light roll of your hips nearly sending him to the stars, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you, but you have to use your words, kitten.”

“Please, I want... no, need you to touch me,” he breathed “‘m so hard it hurts." He thrusted his hips up, groaning softly, “Fuck, you feel so good,” eyes fluttering shut with another thrust, he bites back a whimper, “please, I’ll be good for you... just touch me.”

A soft smile graced your lips, “That’s my good kitty.” Lifting yourself onto your knees, you wasted no time in tugging your lace panties down his hips and the swell of his ass, “Such a dirty kitty, making a mess in my panties, huh?”

All he could do was moan wantonly, his dick finally free from the tight confines as he eagerly kicked them down his legs and off the bed.

You leaned back over him, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss and letting your thumb run over his slit to collect the pre cum. Felix moaned into the kiss, parting his lips for you to slip your tongue in. Your tongues touch as Felix cupped your face in his hands, not wanting to part not even for oxygen - he doesn't want to even think about the kiss ending, pouring all of his emotions into it as if it were the last thing he could do in his human form.

Your free hand covered one of his own, squeezing it gently as you parted from the kiss. “I’ll let you slide for now,” you whispered, your lips still brushing against his, “but next time I'll have to punish you.”

Felix felt you shift above him, but before he can register anything, the warmth of your walls are enveloping the head of his dick. "O-Oh! Oh fuck!"

You placed your hands on his chest and sank down on him completely, hissing a bit at the stretch. “Fuck kitten, you feel so good,” moaning softly, you wiggled your hips, “feel so full.”

He fisted the sheets underneath him, throwing his head back, mouth agape in a silent moan. “S-So warm," he gasped as you lifted your hips up and sank down on him again, your walls clenching around him. Suddenly, his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving, “Please wait, fuck- I'm not gonna last long.” Your eyes met and he sucked in a shaky breath, “Shit, you feel so perfect around me. Better than what I’ve imagined…”

“You”ve thought about fucking me?” Your light giggling made your pussy flutter around him and he nearly sobs at the feeling. “What a naughty little kitten I have - makes me wonder what else goes on in that pretty head of yours.” With your hands settled on his chest, you slowly rocked your hips against his, moaning at the way his dick massaged your insides. “Let me show you what the real thing is really like, are you ready for that, Lixie?”

“Oh god, please show me,” he whined, his grip on your hips tightening slightly.

Moans spilled from his lips as you moved your hips teasingly slow, your fingertips digging into his skin, leaving behind small crescent marks.

Overwhelmed from the pleasure, his moans quickly melted into whimpers and pleas. He doesn't hold back, making you smirk, “Let it all out kitten. Am I making you feel good?”

He nodded his head frantically, unable to stop the moans tumbling from his kiss bruised lips.

“Good boy, such a good boy, Felix.”

He didn't even have the chance to react to the sound of his full name falling from your lips when you rose slowly before dropping back down. You were riding him, the person he loved so much he thought his heart would never beat the same - he felt tears begin to swell in his eyes as his hands followed your pace.

“Kitten? Hey, are you alright?” Your voice filled with worry as you immediately stilled your hips, your hands reaching up to gently caress his cheeks, “am I hurting you?” Concern grew in the pit of your stomach as you watched a single tear roll down his cheek, reacting quickly to catch it with your thumb.

Felix shook his head, his gaze avoiding yours.

“Lixie, I need you to answer me - do you need me to stop?”

His watery eyes snapped to your own as he choked back a sob, “N-No! Don’t- Please- I... I feel so good, I can’t- I love it- I-I love yo-”

Soft hiccups broke his sentence into rambled parts, and it all suddenly clicked; he was crying from pleasure, crying for you.

“Oh... My sweet kitten…” You cooed softly, catching more stray tears with a swipe of your thumb before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “I love you too, do you wanna keep going?”

More tears spilled from his eyes at your words and loving actions - you loved him back, he couldn't be happier than he was in this moment.

His favourite human loves him the way he loves you.

“Yes please... make love to me... please.” He whispered, hands wiping away the last few tears that were still building in his eyes. He gave you a watery smile, eyes scrunching up and face exuding a brightness you never thought was possible on a person.

He looked so pretty under you, cheeks tinted pink and eyes looking up at you, so full of trust, so full of love.

Your heart fluttered and you had to stop yourself from smothering him with butterfly kisses around his beautiful face - he still needed you, and you were going to do what you promised you would; take care of your kitten.

Taking his hands from your hips, you threaded your fingers with his before pinning them at the sides of his head, shifting your position slightly. “Don’t worry about anything else, Lixie - let go of everything and focus on me.” With his nod of approval, you started to ride him once more, the new change in angle letting his dick caress the front of your pussy.

“O-Oh my god,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back as you moved your hips, grinding them down. “‘s so good, please don't stop,” Felix slurred his words, so lost in the pleasure - he was sure he’d died and gone to heaven.

You picked up the pace and leaned forward, letting your noses touch before connecting your lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“You're so good Lixie,” you panted against his lips, squeezing his hands tighter, “fill me up so well, so perfect, my perfect kitten.”

He moaned at your words, squeezing his eyes to focus on keeping his orgasm at bay - he couldn’t let it end so soon, he wouldn’t.

“Are you close, baby?” You mused, keeping the pace of your hips with ease, your lips brushing against his ear. Felix’s cock was hitting your g-spot with every move of your hips now and you could feel your own orgasm slowly approaching.

“I-I can hold it!! Wanna be a good kitten for you, want you to cum first,” he pouted, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. He freed his hands from your grasp, moving them to hold your hips as he continued to thrust into you. You lightly grazed your teeth against his earlobe, nibbling on it before pressing a kiss to his neck.

“P-Please,” He whined, tilting his head to the side to grant you more access to his skin, “I-I’m gonna- I want you-” He felt like his brain was on overdrive, every nerve ending burning at every point your bodies were connected. His right hand sandwiched between your bodies to where his cock was currently drilling into you, fingers frantically searching for what he knew would help you come before him.

You panted against his jaw, nipping at the pale skin lightly, “To the left baby, m-move your hand to the left.”

Obeying your direction, he shifted his wrist and his fingers landed on a soft, slippery nub that made your pussy clench.

“F-Fuck! There, right there baby!”

His fingers moved experimentally over the nub, circling around it and you moaned in response against his jaw, "You're doing so well kitten, making me feel so good."

Felix continued to circle his fingers against your clit, drinking in the moans that spilled from your lips. He was determined to make you come first, moving his fingers a bit faster, “Good like this?”

Nodding hastily, you connected your lips to his neck again and sucked on the skin, the desire to mark him swelling inside of you - you wanted to mark him as yours.

Following the change in tide, you were now the one wantonly moaning against his skin, riding him that much faster and a bit more sloppier. “‘S so good, F-Felix- it’s so good!”

His heart skipped a beat and he quickened his pace, digging his feet into the mattress to fuck into you faster. “C-Come for me? Please- I need you to come for me, c-come with me-” He was so hard it hurt, his stomach clenching and heaving with each ragged breath - he felt himself tear up as he begged whatever higher power was listening to let you come first, please let you come first.

“F-Fuck Felix, right there!” You moaned out, quivering above him, “G-Gonna come!”

Your orgasm rapidly approached as you held onto him, his frantic thrusts bouncing your body against his own. His fingers dug into your skin, and he hoped that they were going to leave a bruise - a marker of his desires finally coming true. You bit down on his neck, tongue running soothingly over the marks left on his skin.

It only took a handful of thrusts before you were shaking above him, your moans growing in volume as you wrangled your hand free from his to tangle in his hair. “Lixie! Felix! I'm c- oh god, I'm coming!"

The grip you had on his dick grew tighter and he groaned, pace faltering as you came around him with a loud cry barely muffled against his neck.

“T-Tight- S-So tight, I can’t-" He was getting dizzy, both hands now coming to wrap behind your back and hold you as close as he possibly can. “Gonna c-come, wanna f-fill you, please? L-Let me- s-so warm, please, please!”

It took a second for you to register his words, head dizzy from your orgasm, before you nodded frantically, "O-Of course kitten, go ahead - breed me.” You whisper and it's all Felix needed to hear.

With one more solid thrust he emptied himself inside you with a loud cry, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm. His glazed over eyes found yours and you smiled at each other, noses bumping as you leaned in for a bliss-filled kiss.

Your lips touched softly in a short peck - soft and sweet and all you both ever needed after an event like that.

“Good kitty,” you giggled, gently scratching your nails against his scalp, feeling the rumble of his purrs vibrate against your chest. “Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?”

Felix couldn’t help but whine, not ready to let you go as he squeezed his arms around your sweaty body, “Can... Can we stay like this a little longer? I like holding you...like this.”

You beamed at the blush taking over his face and nodded, “Of course, Lixie - hold me as long as you want, it’s only fair for bow often I’ve held you.” Tucking your face into the warmth of his neck, you murmured, “From now on, you can hold me as much as you want, my sweet kitten.”

❣ This one's been in the works for a while, but I'm so honored to have done this collab with my lovely Miu! I hope you enjoyed reading and by all means, leave some nice words for her because she's genuinely an amazing writer! Love you lots @onmykneesforchanlix ❣ ❣ Any type of feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

#Kacii's Masterlist #lee felix x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee yongbok x reader #Shifter! AU #Kitty Shifter! Felix #Shifter! AU SKZ #lee felix angst #lee yongbok smut #felix angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Mission Control 22

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It’s not calm. It’s just nothing. You’re not afraid, you’re not angry, or sad, or anything. Just empty. The tension clings to his touch as he draws away and you’re left just like that. Numb, but not quite.

You turn onto your back as the soldier stands. You watch him in the strange haze of your existence. Your eyes close as the fire crackles around the fresh log he lays on it. You sink into the depths of your heedless mind.

When you rouse again, it isn’t for long. He’s dressed in black. As always. But you know by his stance, by his armour and cowl, that he is on his way out. He pauses to pet your head before he goes. You don’t react.

You shut your eyes again and let the sleep take over your addled body. The pain recedes to a dull thrum and your thoughts slow to a placid ripple. Hours unfurl in shadowy ribbons. When you wake again, you can sense the time passed. Close to a day.

He is still gone.

You get up, keeping your injured foot off the floor, and hop around in search of your keeper. You lean on the wall to keep your balance as you make your way through the cabin. You stop in the bedroom door and stare at the blood stain on the wooden floor. You quiver at the memory of the intruder’s fate.

You retreat to the kitchen and sit for a while. Your appetite sours your stomach. You don’t know how as your thoughts threaten to make you nauseous.

You flinch as the wind rattles the windows and whistles just outside those battered walls. The world slows and so do your thoughts, just enough to sort them. How did that man find you? How did he get past the traps? Is he the only one? No, you can’t believe that the villain who took you has only a single enemy.

You get up and go to the fridge. There’s a covered plate with a note on it. ‘Eat’. You bring it to the table and remove the foil. Two hard-boiled eggs, a peeled and separated orange, a cup of cottage cheese, and whole wheat crackers. It’s not fancy or especially tasty but it’s more than enough.

As you wash the plate, you notice the mug. Another note. ‘Drink’. There’s a packet of instant coffee tucked behind the paper torn from the same notebook he kept by the bed.

You add boiling water to the mix and gratefully down the caffeine. The familiar taste is comforting. You stay at the table for a while, your eyes skimming the front room. The place is as bland as the meal.

Then you see it. It wasn’t there before the chaos. You stand and hobble through the open doorway and across the room. You stop before the armchair and the stack on the seat. There’s an unopened package of pencils, a sharpener too; beneath, several puzzle books, another book of blank pages, and a rubik’s cube.

Under all that, is something else. A dress. Yellow linen, with eyelets around the waist and short sleeves, and buttons down the front. The buttons are pearl and you can tell it is true vintage.

You leave it on the chair and take a puzzle book. You open the box of pencils and sharpen it to a point. You open the pages and the smell of paper invades your nose. It’s nice. You love that smell. It’s the best you’ve felt in weeks just tasting that scent.

You sit and do a puzzle. You stop as your cheeks ache. You’re smiling. Something so simple is the most amazing thing you’ve ever done. Just writing the letters. Knowing the answers. You close the book and hold it in your lap as your eyes glaze over.

You sit hunched on the couch and sob. It could be the pain, it could be the horror of what you witnessed, it could be the terror of what’s to come, the isolation of this cabin, it is everything and anything. Your grief bubbles over and constricts your ribs to the point of breathlessness. You let it all out until you are spent and your cheeks are raw.

You shakily set down the book on the side table and stand. You angle over to the chair on one foot and lift the dress. You look down at the dark shirt; his. You don’t even remember him putting it on you.

You strip it off and pull on the dress. It smells like laundry detergent. It’s soft. It’s lovely. It makes you feel a little more human.

You limp, touching only the toes of your wounded foot to the floor, and go into the bathroom. You can only see to just below your chest in the mirror. Your face and your hair are a disaster but you don’t care. The dress is nice. It’s cute.

You just watch yourself as you run your hands up and down the fabric. You stay there until you can bear to stand no longer. You come back out, hopping again, but before you can reach the front room, there’s a clatter at the door.

You cry out as your heart lurches. You search around for anything, something to defend yourself. What if it’s not him? What if it’s another villain?

The door swings open but does not assuage your fears. It is the soldier but he is not himself. He has his cowl still in place and his body seems to steam as his chest rises and falls rapidly. His muscles are tense beneath the taut fabric, bulging in his armour.

You cannot see his expression but you can imagine it by his posture. He marches forward mechanically and you whine as you throw up your hands. He grabs your head between his large hands and you struggle with him, dancing on your toes as you cry out in agony.

“No, please,” you beg.

That little bit of joy flies out the door and fades into the billowing winds. You push against his stomach as he tries to pull you closer. You ball one hand and beat on his chest as you strain to keep him from smothering you.

“No, don’t! No, no, not like this,” you plead as you snake your hand up.

You writhe in his grasp as you get a thumb under his cowl. You slide the strap from his chin and the mask shifts. You continue to push against him as you flip it up, getting it just above his mouth. You tear at it again and unveil his face.

You look up at him as his eyes fall to you. His scar is a torturous shade of white as he clenches his jaw. His eyes are dilated and dark. Just like the first time he returned. Your insides quake at just the thought.

He clutches at your dress and pulls you closer. You squeak and shakily press your hand to his cheek. You caress him with your fingertips as he crushes you again him, your arm folding between your bodies. You brush through his sweaty strands and tremble.

“Please, be nice,” you quaver. “Be soft to me, soldier. Please.”

He squeezes you until you can’t breathe. You flutter your fingers around his ear and whimper once more. Then he slackens his hold on you and unhooks his arm from your waist. His eyes clear and his hands rest lightly on your hips.

He opens his mouth and outlines a word with his lips, ‘soft’.

#captain america #captain hydra #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #mission control #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #series

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novulen · 1 year ago

Text

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: after buying a weird ouija board from an elderly man, your night takes an unexpected turn when you return from the bathroom to find a stranger in your house—wait…are those four arms?

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ & ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ (mdni), unprotected s3x, pinning, (u get fucked against a wall), usage of ‘doll & princess’ , tw just cs sukuna 🤗

ᴡᴄ~ 2.08k

Your palms trembled as your gaze swept over the text on the box before you. It exuded a frightening aura that penetrated into your bones and sent a sharp chill up your spine, yet, at the same time adrenaline surged throughout every vein in your body. You felt giddy.

Ever since you could remember, you've always wanted to own a ouija board. As a child obsessed with the occult, you were absolutely taken aback the first time you heard about it, and had attempted everything you could to get your hands on it.

It was sort of disappointing that it was only now you’d get to experience it.

Although, swaying your thoughts aside, you grinned. You should have been thrilled to at least encounter one at this point; it was either now or never, and you wanted to make the younger you nestled within you feel happy.

You sighed shakily, and smoothed your hands over the top, wiping away any dust that was settled on the box. Upon opening it, particles of all sorts ejected about everywhere, and the candles lit on the table raged a fiery orange as the fine powder fell into the flames.

You’d been curious about how long it remained in that pink-haired elderly man's home unopened, much alone touched. However, given that you had purchased it at a garage sale, the soot contained within the cardboard didn't come as a huge surprise.

On the bottom of the crate lay a cream-colored board with the alphabet letters painted in a messy black, and settled on it is a tan planchette. The most important part of this whole thing, you’d been told–if you did it right.

Excitedly, you pawed at the ouija board and clutched it, quickly placing it on the wood and doing the same to the planchette.

“Huh,” you hummed, examining the symbol in the center of it, which seemed to resemble a circle with two mirrored ‘antlers’ around it. “...Never saw one with this before,” Though you figured it was some sort of special kind. Deep in thought about what to ask of ‘it’, you sighed, guessing that any ghost or ghoul would be interested in your uneventful life anyway. Although, It was worth a try.

With an equally excited-nervous gulp, you placed your fingers on the piece and began your pseudo-seance.

You’d started with the usual questions, not really expecting much.

“Is anyone there?” Heart racing, you swore the indicator began to vibrate, only to discover later that it was just the result of your shaking. You were never known to be a patient person, consequently after a few seconds, your hope slowly began to fade.

However, as the moment you intend to pull your fingers off the planchette nears, it moves, sluggishly, to ‘NO’.

Very funny. You thought to yourself sarcastically, but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you. It made you feel comfortable knowing that, at least, you were speaking to someone with a sense of humor (a small sense).

Your fingers scratched uncomfortably at the next question that popped to life in your head.

“Are you, uhm, evil?” the question flowed weirdly off your tongue–was that a weird thing to ask? Nevertheless what you had thought, it still replied.

‘YES’.

Coincidentally, the room’s temperature suddenly dropped, and a chilly whisper of wind whirred near your face. The instantaneous gush of air nearly blew out all the candles, your only source of light, and it’s only then you get a fix on what you’re working with.

A fucking ghost, ghoul–or whatever.

However, you don’t back down upon realization, you're only immersed deeper within wherever this was meant to go. Thus, you begin asking more…loose questions.

“What’s your name?”

Your fingers follow the piece as it slides from letter to letter.

“Suh-ku-na?” you try the word on your tongue, head nodding approvingly at the taste the name leaves in your mouth, although you can't deny how much you’re now aching to see this thing's face.

Thoughts swirl in your head as you attempt to get some possibilities of what he could possibly look like. You can’t help but begin to imagine a ridiculously attractive man in place of Sukuna, with bulging arms, a sharp jawline, plump lips…Your thighs bunch together at the thought.

But, with the instinctive urge to bunch your thighs comes the urge to pee. And lord knows you can’t ignore that thought.

So, to Sukuna’s surprise, who is watching from wherever, you get up and awkwardly waddle to the bathroom, and he’s left all by himself, with his thoughts. The same lewd ideas that’d swirled in his head the moment you picked up that damned board with your cute, mousy smile–in that short, tight skirt, all dolled up as if you knew.

Seeing that, stupidly enough, you hadn’t had half the mid to even move the planchette to ‘END GAME’ Sukuna took that opportunity to bring his fantasies to life.

Now, to your surprise, as soon as you stepped foot in your living room, a stranger stood there to greet you.

A beat of uncomfortable silence.

The longer you stared, the more…unusual Sukuna seemed as a whole. Though, he’s hot nonetheless.

Your head shifts to the side as you gawk. With four, brawny arms, body sculpted to the hilt, and a rippling abdomen, Sukuna didn’t fail to pique your interest. Thinking about it, you’d always been interested in abnormal looking men–your ex could prove that.

One of his upper hands ran through his hair; a blush pink. It oddly resembled that of the man you’d brought the board from.

“You just gonna stare?” A loud , booming voice erupts from his throat, which snaps you out of your state, only for you to become even more anxious. Sukuna feels his cock twitch at the effect his voice has on you, just from a simple sentence at that, it made him wonder what it’d do to you further down the road…

You simply stood there, edgy–which he was used to.

Lower hand on his hip, he began to slowly but surely advance towards you. Making sure he didn’t scare his prey away.

“Hey, I ain’t gonna hurt ya..’s okay,” he cooed, placing his arms up defensively. This was the first time he’d sweet-talked anyone in a millennium, and with it took his ego. Sukuna was hoping that you didn’t take this lightly.

Soon enough, with his proceeding and your backing away, you were pushed up against a nearby wall, caged within his huge body.

“I- What do you want? How did you even–” A finger to your lips.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” There was a pause, and the air filled with your erratic breathing. “All I wanna know is how tight that pussy is.”

Your body shivered with cold chills and it seemed that all you could do was look up at the huge pillar of a man. Eyes wide and mouth agape at his straightforwardness, you stuttered. “W-What?”

Sukuna’s lips tugged upwards in a smug grin. “Y’heard me.” Almost instantly, he dived into the crook of your neck, nose brushing against your supple skin as he tasted you. And yet, you didn’t push him away.

Something deep inside of you wanted this–you hadn’t had a good fuck in years.

But who knew you’d be fucking something so unnatural?

“Fuck,” he hissed, yet again halting your train of thought. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at what caused said sound, and audibly gasped when you did so.

You’ve had your fair share of partners and hook-ups in the past, and personally deemed yourself amateur. Though never once have you touched, let alone seen a cock as big as Sukuna’s.

He hadn’t taken his pants off, nor had you even analyzed it properly!

It baffled you, and in turn, the expression on your face fueled his ego.

“Up here, doll.”

Your gazes met as you complied with his unintentional order. Lust clouded in Sukuna’s eyes the more he gazed down at you, and as you lost yourself within the depths of his sinister, yet alluring iris’, he took his chance.

A calloused hand distractingly rubbed at the skin of your thighs, another creeping closer to your heat, though you’d noticed too late, and by the time you did, he had already pushed your panties aside.

As uncaring as Sukuna was, he gave you time to deny him. But , to his surprise and pleasure, you didn’t.

“Sukuna…” you whimpered as he slid a thick finger over the hood of your clit, collecting your essence in the process.

The way you said his name had him fighting his self restraint.

His breath caught in his throat, and his words came out in a shallow whisper.

“Hold on to me.”

“Wait, why–” Confused, you stuttered out.

Though, not even a second later, he slid inside, and it was then your question was answered.

Sukuna was so thick, huge, even thinking about the size had your head spinning. How was a size like this even possible?!

On the other hand, Sukuna was shocked–bewildered even–at how tight, how snug you felt around him. The feeling was foreign; most he’d fucked pushed his cock away, not used to his girth, though your pussy welcomed him in a blissful warmth.

“S-shit, doll. I won’t be able to last if you’re sucking me in like that,” he moaned–fucking moaned. His cheeks flushed a blush pink with embarrassment as he looked away, averting his gaze elsewhere.

Did Sukuna Ryomen really just moan?

He felt his ego diminish at the mere thought.

“‘Kuna, ‘s too much,” you whined, not even sparing the nickname that came out of your mouth a second thought. Your soft hands gripped onto his broad shoulders, as if seeking out the one thing that would save you. But, he’d inevitably be the one that destroyed you.

Overwhelming shocks of euphoria rocked incessantly into your body, and with the overpowering fullness his cock had you feeling, it proved to be too much.

And within minutes of his initial entrance, you came.

Feeling the sudden gush of liquid around him, Sukuna snickered. “Fuck–’d you just cum?”

You could tell the only purpose of him asking was to make fun of you, and a pout puckered on your lips in response.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” you murmured.

“That isn’t an excuse, princess.”

But you huffed, looking away annoyed.

Sukuna frowned. Were you really catching an attitude as he was buried deep inside you?

His lips tugged upwards in a vicious grin. This wouldn’t go unpunished.

He released an onslaught of thrusts into your cunt, driving his cock into the formerly untouchable depths inside you. He held onto your thighs, squeezing hard as he fucked up into you.

Your eyes watered and rolled back, and your legs instantly wrapped around his waist to aid his thrusts.

“F-fuck…so dee–ep,” you mewled, choking on your own saliva.

The room filled with the sporadic slap of Sukuna’s thighs to your ass, the lewd sound so loud you swore you could feel the vibrations resonate off your apartment's thin walls.

“Shut up and take it.” he hissed, head thrown back, and you audibly moaned at the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Sukuna was treating your poor cunt as if it were a pocket pussy—rutting into you without any consideration for your own pleasure, yet something about that seemed so incredibly hot.

The desire you had for this man you’d met just moments ago was unbearable.

He made you a babbling, crying mess, as your orgasm washed over you for the second time that night.

But Sukuna was never finished if he weren’t finished.

Thus, it didn’t take until his orgasm came that he finally pulled out, breathing heavily and perspiration rolling down his forehead. His calloused hands soothed over the meat of your thighs, admiring how red the skin had become.

He didn’t say anything for a while, though his eyes grazed every inch of your body–was he admiring you? This was the queue Sukuna needed to go, he couldn’t believe himself!

“Wait. you’re just gonna leave?”

Sukuna grins. “Y’ want me to stay?”

You couldn’t deny how your pussy was still craving him, hell, you’d almost instantly jerked him back in when he had pulled out earlier, so you nod. Though, a better way to make him stay pops up into your mind.

“Round two?

who was gonna tell me how hard it is to write sukuna..

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mors-pulchritudo · 4 months ago

Note

Ship Bias :3

EEEEEKKK I LOVE THIS (all of these are for Calli bc. She’s the only muse on this blog lol) These are my top five for my favorite girl!! (Platonic and romantic)

1. Calliope x Dr. Ratio (romantic) — This one is my number one for a few reasons. Mainly because she’s tied to him because of super cool lore I can’t spoil yet, but also they’re a perfect match in my head. <3

2. Calliope x Aventurine (…what are they??) — Not romantic, sort of platonic, what are they doing?? Their dynamic is funny to me. It started off a bit rocky, but at least they’re on good terms.

3. Calliope x Stelle (platonic) — Girlfriends but in a platonic way, y’know?? Like I’d give you my left kidney and/or one of my eyes but don’t touch my brownie type of girlfriends.

4. Calliope x March 7th (platonic) — Sort of an older/younger sister dynamic I’d. Maybe sort of mother/daughter?? Calli’s just protective of March, basically.

5. Calliope x Boothill (romantic…??) — Hey, she’s a freak. She’s been around for a while, let her be.

Honorable mentions!! <3

Calliope x Ovis (@feathers-and-song) (Platonic) — The besties ever. Don’t separate them, it’ll kill one of them. Don’t know which one, let’s just not find out.

Calliope x Kai (@feathers-and-song) (it’s worse than what you think) — Can these two…do something?? Anything?? Are they lovers? No. Are they friends? I don’t know, but I have two M&Ms, a midol pill, and a dream.

#ooc ~ dimmed down starlight #calliope ~ space bird #honkai star rail #hsr ocs #honkai star rail rp #hsr oc rp #unopened letter ~ the ask box #canon x oc #oc x oc

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blingblong55 · 7 months ago

Text

Words- Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request: hiii i luv ur writing and i was wondering if u could do a makarov x reader and he’s always buying reader gifts and it’s coming up to readers birthday and he asks what they want and they’re just like “you” like not in a sexually way but in a rly sweet and fluffy way tysm for reading this and please don’t feel forced to:) remember to take care of urself have a good day/afternoon/evening/nigh ---- F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship ----

A/N: this is a request from August that I discovered about an hour ago, so I'm sorry for barely seeing this.

The days leading up to your birthday had been a flurry of thoughtful chaos. Every morning brought a new surprise—a beautifully wrapped box or an elegant bouquet, each accompanied by a handwritten note in Makarov’s sharp, deliberate scrawl. What is it that compels you to smile as you read all of his letters? Is it his handwriting? The way he expresses himself so perfectly in each letter? Or the thought that someone thinks so sweetly of you? It didn’t matter. Doesn't matter what he gifts you if it was a shimmering necklace, a rare book you’d mentioned in passing, or something as simple as your favourite chocolate—he knew exactly what would bring a smile to your face.

Yet, with every gift that appeared, a small ache settled in your chest. His gestures were grand, yes, but you knew the man behind them, the one who hid his softness beneath layers of control and precision. What you wanted most wasn’t something you could unwrap—it was something only he could give. And wouldn't it be so poetic if he'd give it in a precious whisper?

That evening, you sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that had been another one of his gifts. The soft fabric was warm against your skin, but it couldn’t compare to the warmth that bloomed in your chest when the door creaked open, and he stepped into the room.

Vladimir moved with his usual confidence, his presence commanding even in the quiet intimacy of your shared space. But as his eyes found yours, his expression shifted, the sharpness melting into something softer.

“You’re still awake,” he said, his voice low, tinged with a warmth he reserved only for you. Something that only four walls knew about. His gaze flicked to the small mountain of unopened gifts stacked neatly in the corner. “I see you’ve yet to open the rest.” Why was he so polite? What compels a fool to be so proper with their lover?

You gave him a sheepish smile, your fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I was saving them for later.” He tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Afraid to be spoiled too much?”

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice laced with affection. “But, Vladimir, it’s too much. You didn’t need to do all this.”

His smirk softened, replaced by an almost contemplative look as he crossed the room to stand before you. “It’s never too much for you,” he said quietly. “You deserve more than I can ever give, Любимая(darling).”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, the way his words carried a vulnerability he rarely let show. He was a man who seemed unshakable to the world, but here, with you, he allowed his walls to come down. Maybe it was this dim room but you can swear you see the most peaceful and soft look in his eyes he has ever given you. As he lowered himself to sit beside you, his knee brushing yours, he added, “Still, I wonder… what is it you truly want this year? If there’s anything I’ve missed, anything your heart desires, tell me, and it’s yours.”

"солнце, луна и звезды, они все остаются там, и все же мне кажется, что они здесь… с тобой." (the sun, the moon and the stars, they all stay up there and yet it feels like I have them here… with you) This is what he had whispered one night and right now, it's all you can think about.

How he looked at you then—with quiet intensity, as though you held the answers to everything he’d ever sought—made it difficult to breathe. You hesitated, your gaze dropping to where his hands rested on his knees. For all his generosity, for all his efforts to make you happy, what you wanted most was so simple. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat and whispered, “You.”

His head tilted slightly, his brows knitting together as he processed your words. “Me?”

You nodded, daring to meet his eyes. “I don’t need the gifts, Vladimir. I just want you. A day where it’s just us. No plans, no interruptions. Just… you.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. The silence stretched between you, and you worried you’d said the wrong thing. But then his hand moved, covering yours with a tenderness that made your heart stutter. “You have me,” he said softly, his voice low but steady. “You’ve always had me.”

The warmth in his gaze was enough to undo you. It was as if he’d peeled back every layer of himself, offering you not just his time or his presence, but his very soul. “You don’t understand,” you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the tears threatening to spill. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just you.”

A breath escaped him, something between a sigh and a laugh. He shifted closer, his other hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “If that’s all you want, then that’s all you’ll have,” he said. “For your birthday, for every day after—just me, Любимая. I’m yours.”

The sincerity in his voice, the gentle touch of his hand against your skin, made your heartache in the best possible way. You leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into you, and felt the weight of his love in every word, every gesture.

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into the softest smile you’d ever seen, his thumb tracing idle circles on your knuckles. “I’ve never meant anything more.”

And in that moment, with the world falling away around you, you knew the truth of his words. Vladimir Makarov wasn’t just giving you a birthday gift—he was giving you himself, wholly and completely, in the only way that truly mattered.

A/N: I got the Russian wrong...I think but here it is and sorry

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @rvivienner @frazie99 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @strangepuppynightmare @strawberrychita @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @nobodys-coffee @rowrowrowyourboat13 @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @baruque-ya @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @azkza @gh0st-hunt2r @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

#cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader #mwii #call of duty #vladimir makarov x you #vladimir makarov #makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov cod #makarov cod #makarov call of duty #makarov x reader #vladimir makarov fluff

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kirain · 6 months ago

Note

Emmrich forgetting Rook's birthday and feels guilty so he makes it up to her?

Emmrich doesn't strike me as the type of partner who would forget important dates like that, but what if he simply didn't know? Hopefully this is still a fun read:

A soft breeze swept through the Necropolis, interrupted only by the crisp snipping of shears. Emmrich, working in peaceful silence, pruned the vibrant flowers that twisted around the graves, their blooms not wild or unruly, but rather tributes that seemed to spring forth in honour of the dead.

Across the way, Vae moved with an elegance he couldn't help but admire. She wasn't simply tending to flowers; she handled each headstone with care, brushing away the dirt and arranging the petals to frame every name.

"You're putting a lot of thought into this," Emmrich said, her quiet reverence bringing a smile to his face.

Vae glanced up at him, a strand of hair falling loose from her tie. "Like you always say, the dead deserve dignity," she said, her voice warm. "It feels right to take my time."

Before he could reply, the sharp echo of boots broke the tranquility. Both turned to see a young courier enter the Necropolis, his gaze uneasy as he scanned the shadowy cemetery; clearly not a local, and clearly unsettled by the view.

"Over here!” Vae called amicably, hoping to sooth his nerves. Quickly, she set her shears aside and wiped her hands on her pants.

"Are you Vae?" The man approached, clutching his satchel tightly. "The, uh... death folk told me you'd be here."

"That's me."

Relieved, the courier handed her a small parcel wrapped in unassuming brown parchment. "This is for you. Straight from Antiva."

"Antiva?" Vae raised an eyebrow as she accepted the delivery, her expression curious.

She couldn't guess what it was or who had sent it, but she had no intention of bombarding the poor man with inane questions he probably couldn't answer. With a grateful nod, she reached into her pocket and handed him a generous tip.

"Th-thank you!" he stammered, tipping his hat. Then he mumbled a quick, "Pleasure," before scurrying off, eager to leave the solemn atmosphere.

"Now, what could that be?" Emmrich asked, tilted his head.

"I'm not sure." Carefully, Vae peeled back the paper to reveal a folded letter and a box of chocolates, the label embossed in gold. "Oh, how nice! It's from a friend of mine in the capital. She sends me these every—" She flinched, her lips curling. "Every so often." Yet she set the package aside without inspecting it further, then turned back to her work. "I'll tear into it later, when we're back at the Lighthouse."

"A friend?" Emmrich pressed, genuinely interested in learning more about the woman he loved. "She must be a remarkable friend indeed, sending you chocolates all the way from Antiva. And by personal courier, no less. That's a costly service. What's the occasion?"

"It's just a sweet gesture," Vae replied with a dismissive wave. "She's thoughtful like that."

Something in her tone gave the fervid necromancer pause. They'd been together for months—he knew her well enough to recognise when she was being evasive, dodging questions. As his eyes drifted to the unopened letter and neatly tied box of expensive treats, a thought struck him.

"Vae... today isn't your birthday, is it?"

She froze, then turned to him with a sheepish smile. "...Maybe?"

"What?" he gasped, his muscles tensing. "Why didn't you mention it?"

"I forgot," she shrugged. "We've been so busy, it didn't even cross my mind."

"Forgot? Vae, I would have—"

"Emmrich, it's fine. I promise," she chuckled, refocusing on the headstone in front of her. "It's just a day, anyway. No big deal."

Emmrich stood in stunned silence, his gaze flicking from the graves to Vae's overworked figure. Then, his jaw tightened.

"No big deal?" he huffed.

With a dramatic flourish, he raised his hand and wove it through the air, as if conducting an orchestra—and perhaps he was. Bones rattled in the nearby pavilion as the skeletons stationed there sprang to life, their fingers deftly strumming the instruments they carried even in death. Soon, a soft, lilting melody hummed through the Necropolis, haunting yet strangely beautiful.

"Emmrich," Vae squeaked, turning to face him, "what are you doing?"

He grinned, the expression handsome, dignified; then approached her with a polished bow. "May I have this dance?"

Vae quivered, pulling away. "But... I'm filthy," she stammered.

"Never, darling. You're radiant as always."

Her cheeks flushed. "And the graves—"

"Aren't going anywhere," he quipped, extending his hand.

Vae stared at the undead ensemble, swithering between disbelief and amusement. But when she looked back at Emmrich—and their eyes met—she sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

"Is that a yes?" he asked, his fingers beckoning.

"Fine." Defeated, she slipped her hand into his. "But just one."

"We'll see," he teased, gently drawing her into a casual waltz.

With his guidance, they moved in slow, fluid strides, the music wrapping around them like a spell. When he spun her, Vae laughed, the moment surreal, yet undeniably perfect. Though she lacked experience in dancing, Emmrich ensured she never felt out of place, his flow seamless and accommodating.

"Where did they even get the instruments?" Vae asked playfully, gesturing to the breathless band.

"They were donated along with the bodies," Emmrich answered excitedly. "Specifically so they could continue playing after death. It's a Nevarran tradition."

"Of course it is," Vae tittered, relaxing in his arms.

The world around them seemed to fade as he led her through the motions, his hand resting lightly on her waist, their fingers clasped together as they swayed in harmonious circles. The music played on, enchanting and serene—though, after a while, all Vae could hear was the quiet rhythm of their steps, and the steady, calming cadence of Emmrich's breath. His eyes never left hers, his gaze adoring in a way that made her heart skip a beat.

"Manfred?" he called after a while, addressing the curious spirit who lingered nearby. "Can you take a message to the kitchen for me, please? Tell them I'd like some strawberry cheesecake to go along with our tea time. It's Vae's favourite."

The bubbly skeleton nodded and clattered off, his bones clicking as he ran.

"What?" Vae stopped, her brow arching. "Emmrich, you don't have to do that. I know how much it bothers you when I—"

"You've been eating what I eat since our relationship began," he contested.

"You didn't ask me to."

"I know, but you have, even though I can tell it's been difficult for you." He shook his head. "Today is your day, and I want it to be as special as you are."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he silenced her with a kiss—deep, tender, his arms wrapping around her as if to anchor her in place. When he finally pulled away, she looked up at him, her cheeks glowing, pure ecstasy etched across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, brushing her thumb along his chin.

He smiled. "Happy birthday, Vae."

#emmrich #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #rook x emmrich #rook #dragon age the veilguard #da: the veilguard #dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers #veilguard #veilguard rook #manfred #fanfic

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therealstacyfakename · 8 days ago

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thoughts on my Frieren au idea (essentially immortal Geralt grieving Jaskier):

essential premise: Witcher au inspired by Frieren where Geralt long outlives Jaskier and realizes he’s in love with him 10 years after Jaskier died of old age. Jaskier knew the entire time.

Jaskier dies on a Sunday.

Jaskier died peacefully of old age. Geralt wasn't there when he died because he while he'd been visit the old bard, he'd spent Sunday morning helping the village raise a new barn. He found Jaskier dead in his bed at mid-afternoon when he returned to the bard's cottage, ready to bring him to town for the subsequent celebration.

While cleaning out the home Geralt finds a box of letters written by Jaskier with the note on the top "For Geralt. Read each of these when you need them." each letter has a different name. Things such as "Read after you say goodbye" and "Read when you feel lost"

Geralt tears the one at the top open and sobs after reading. How did Jaskier know him so well when he never took the time to really know him back.

Geralt leaves the village days after the funeral. This was a long time coming, he had no reason to be sad and didn't need them to keep looking at him with teary eyes. It was time to return to the path anyway.

One year after Jaskier's death he sees Yennefer again. She is angry he didn't tell her sooner.

Yennefer forces Geralt to speak about what happened. He can't say Jaskier's name anymore. He rips open another letter, finally letting himself read another.

A few years after Jaskier’s death Geralt meets a young bard named Issel. They start traveling together at her insistence. Traveling on the path, Geralt returns to countless villages and cities he and Jaskier once stopped at. Slowly he tells Issel about his travels.

It takes months for Geralt to tell her he knew the famous Jaskier who penned all those songs she likes to sing.

It takes even longer to tell her about saying goodbye to Jaskier. She looks at him the way Yennefer and those villagers did.

Geralt hears Jaskier’s songs in taverns, courts, festivals and around campfires across the continent. Sometimes he closes his eyes and feels Jaskier next to him.

One day Geralt overhears a lively debate over whether or not The White Wolf was a real person, or simply a character conjured by the famous Jaskier.

It makes something unusual settle inside Geralt to realize no one remembers The Butcher of Blaviken anymore.

When Issel and Geralt part ways, Geralt notices he never misses the young woman like he did Jaskier. She is there and then she's gone and his feelings have no depth.

One day Geralt returns to a village he an jaskier once saved where Jaskier gifted him a metal cuff. It's a silver piece of metal engraved with with lotus flowers that Gerald wears on his right wrist. Jaskier had insisted Geralt deserved it as a token of his appreciation for saving his life. When Geralt pointed out the fact he'd saved his life countless times Jaskier insisted it was making up for all the past rescues.

Geralt still wears the cuff all these decades later. An inkeeper sees it and asks who his wife is. This is when Geralt learns that in this region lotus flowers symbolize eternal love. Jewelry depicting a lotus flower is typically exchanged as a gift between married couples a year or more after their ceremony.

He learns later than Yennefer knows what the cuff means. Geralt, as he was with the innkeeper, is too embarrassed to say he never thought about it. This is when he realizes Yennefer has viewed him as a widow for all this time.

He reads Jaskier's last unopened letter 30 years after the bard's death. He opens it after he cleaned the headstone and placed lotus flowers beside it, sitting on a stone at the top of a hill Geralt pulls the letters from his bag.

The letter in Geralt's hand says "Read when you return home." For a long time Geralt thought the bard meant Kaher Morhen, but every time he was back in the keep with his brothers it did not feel like the right time or place. He curses himself for avoiding this place for so many years but shakes himself and remembers Jaskier would not have wanted him to feel this way.

Geralt cries for the first time since he brought Jaskier's body to the coroner. He cries with the letter safely tucked away in the box he keeps the rest of them. He cries while watching the sun set over the ocean the bard was so fond of.

So anyways this is kind of half baked but something about emotionally constipated Geralt recounting his journey and realizing the depth of his love for this human man is so so interesting to me.

watching frieren episode 14 did a number on me I can only imagine what else that show makes me think of doing to this grieving witcher.

#major character death #geraskier #the witcher #geraskier fanfiction #my writing #Geralt of rivia

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inkedwithcharm · 29 days ago

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Until the Lilacs Bloom Again | KSJ

Genre: Historical Romance, Angst, Slice of Life

Setting: 1940s wartime, told from present-day

The living room smelled like old books and cinnamon tea. Rain tapped softly against the windowpane. A black-and-white photograph sat on the mantel—faded with time. In it, a young woman held hands with a man in uniform, smiling like the world hadn’t yet broken.

“Grandma,” you say, “who’s that man next to you?”

I pause, my fingers gently brushing the edges of the photo frame. My bones ache with time, but my heart still stirs like it did that spring in 1942.

“That,” I whisper, “was your grandfather. Kim Seokjin. My first and only love.”

You tilt your head, curious. “What happened to him?”

A soft sigh escapes me. “He went to war. And he never came back. But before he left… we had a love story worth remembering.”

You crawl closer, eyes wide, voice soft. “Will you tell me?”

And so I do.

Lilac Spring (1942)

We were young, foolish, and so deeply in love.

I met him during the lilac bloom. He had just moved to our little town in Gyeonggi Province, looking as out of place as a snowflake in summer. His father was a doctor. Mine ran the local bakery. But it wasn’t the usual boy-meets-girl story.

He bumped into me—literally—while chasing a little boy who’d stolen an apple from a market cart. I was holding a basket of bread. We collided. The bread went flying.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, wide-eyed, brushing flour off my dress. “I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.”

He looked like someone carved out of a poem—gentle eyes, soft laugh, lips that always looked like they were about to say something kind.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to pay for those,” I teased.

And he laughed. That laugh… It still echoes in my mind after all these years.

By summer, we were inseparable. We’d lie beneath the cherry trees by the river, dream about the future, and talk about how we’d name our children.

Then came the draft notice.

“I’ll write to you every week,” he promised, his voice cracking. “Every single week, until I’m back in your arms.”

We got married the night before he left. A small ceremony under the stars. I wore my mother’s lace veil and held a bouquet of lilacs he picked himself.

He kissed me like it was the end of the world.

Then he boarded the train in the morning fog. I watched him go, waving until the smoke swallowed his silhouette.

His letters came every week. Always beginning with “To my brightest star,” and ending with “Yours, always, Jin.”

Some were funny. Others described horrors I couldn’t comprehend. But he always tried to make me smile. He’d draw me little cartoons in the margins. Tell me about the birds that nested near the trenches. The way the sunrise looked after a night of silence.

And then… they stopped.

One week passed.

Then two.

Then a month.

Then a telegram arrived.

“Missing in Action. Presumed Dead.”

I didn’t believe it. For years, I waited. I’d walk to the post office every morning. I kept the door unlocked. Just in case he came home.

But he never did.

I planted lilacs in our garden, hoping they’d bring him back like they did once before.

Each spring, they bloomed. Beautiful. Fragrant.

But empty.

You look at me now, eyes filled with something you don’t quite understand yet—loss, maybe. Or the depth of a love that transcends a lifetime.

“Did you ever love anyone else?” you ask softly.

I shake my head. “No. I lived a good life. I made bread, I painted, I raised your mother. But my heart… it always belonged to him.”

You look back at the photograph. “Do you think he knew how much you loved him?”

“I know he did,” I smile. “Because he told me once: If I never return, promise me you’ll live for the both of us.”

And I did.

But I also waited.

Still do, in my dreams.

Later that night, you find an old box tucked behind the fireplace. Inside are dozens of yellowed letters.

One lies on top, unopened.

It’s dated May 28, 1943—weeks after he was declared missing.

In it, his handwriting, shaky but familiar:

“To My Brightest Star,

If you are holding this letter, then the fates have not been kind to me.

I had promised you I would return. That I’d walk through our door with dust on my boots and you in my arms again. I pictured it every night—your smile, the warmth of your hand, the scent of lilacs in your hair. I held that dream tighter than I held my own breath some days.

But the truth is, my love… the skies are darker here. And if this letter finds you, it means I could not make it back to you. I hope that breaks your heart just a little less, knowing I thought of you with every beat of mine.

There’s a quiet tonight in this place. A rare kind of stillness that feels borrowed from another world. I imagine you sitting by the window with your tea, waiting for one more letter, unaware this is the last my hands will ever write.

I’m not afraid to die, Y/N. I’m only afraid of being forgotten. Of my voice fading from your memory. Of you growing old without someone to call you “mine.”

But even in death, I promise—I will find a way back to you.

In every breeze that brushes your cheek, in every petal that falls from our lilac tree, in every dream that holds my name—I’ll be there. Not in flesh. But in love. Always in love.

Do you remember the night we married under the stars? I kept my eyes on you the entire time—not the priest, not the guests, not even the stars above us. Just you. Because you, Y/N, were the only future I ever wanted.

There were moments here, in the trenches, when I closed my eyes and I swear I could smell your perfume. I could hear your laughter echoing in my ears, louder than the gunfire. You kept me alive longer than fate intended.

But if the morning comes and I don’t wake, promise me something.

Promise me you’ll live. Laugh. Bake your bread. Paint again. Smile without guilt. Grow old surrounded by warmth, not sorrow.

Love again if you must.

But never forget that once, in the spring of 1942, a boy with shaking hands and stars in his eyes fell in love with you—and he never stopped.

Even now, as the ink fades and my hands tremble, I love you. With all that I am. With all that I could’ve been.

My body may rest in foreign soil, but my soul… it will always find its way to you.

Wait for me in the lilac bloom, just once more.

Yours, in this life and the next,

Always and Always,

Jin”

The rain had stopped.

Outside, the lilacs were in full bloom—soft petals swaying gently in the breeze, like the earth itself was whispering goodbye.

The old woman lay in her bed, her breaths shallow but serene. The lines on her face told stories—of laughter, sorrow, resilience. But in her hands, wrinkled and trembling, she held a letter. His letter.

The one she had waited her whole life to read.

It rested gently against her heart, as though it had always belonged there.

Her grandchild sat beside her, watching silently, eyes misted with tears. The room was filled with a stillness that felt sacred. The photo of their wedding stood at the bedside table—her in lace, him in uniform, two hearts frozen in time.

She smiled faintly.

And then… she closed her eyes.

No pain.

No fear.

Just peace.

“She waited for him in every spring bloom, in every quiet night, in every letter she never stopped hoping to receive.

And in the end… he did come back to her.

In ink. In words. In love eternal.

Outside, a single lilac petal fell onto the windowsill.

Somewhere beyond time, in a field where war never touched and skies never cried, he was waiting.

Dressed in the same uniform. Smiling that same boyish smile. Arms open wide.

She ran to him barefoot, laughing. Young again. Whole again.

And as they embraced under the lilac trees of forever, the world faded gently—leaving only love.

The End.

A love story never forgotten. A promise kept beyond life.

#angst #bts #jin #romance #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #bts x reader #fanfic #war fic

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