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#off of memory/random chance
hongluboobs · 7 months
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ur always chasin that damn Whale🙄‼️
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kaitcake1289 · 2 years
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truly funny how the thoughts never stop
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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another chance
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words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, ex!bf rafe, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, drinking/partying, mentions of drugs
“have you noticed his new girl is y/n’s twin?” kelce whispers to topper, who just nods in response. rafe claims that he’s completely over you, that he’s glad you broke up with him and he’s not harboring any sort of resentment over the fact that you left him.
“its so weird.” kelce continues, taking a sip of his drink, watching as rafe holds the new girl around the waist, but he barely looks at her, like if he keeps her in his peripheral vision that he can pretend its you, instead of the first girl he found whose features resemble yours.
“hes getting fucked up all the time now too. he showed up for golf the other day completely strung out.” topper informs kelce, who frowns.
they both know that there is nothing they can do, they don’t want to force you to get back with rafe if you don’t want to, especially with the state he’s in. rafe grabs the bottle of booze he was pouring into his cup repeatedly, forgoing the plastic solo cup in favor of drinking straight out of the bottle.
“rafey, are you gonna take me up to your bed?” the girl asks, no so subtly begging to be fucked by him.
“don’t call me that.” rafe grunts. only you can call him by that nickname, even if you did break his heart.
“are you going to fuck me or not, cameron?” she questions.
“not.” rafe says honestly. he thought it would help, to get it out of his system, to take a new girl to bed, but when he tried to kiss someone at the first party he attended after you, it made him so sick he had to leave. she didn’t look like you, she didn’t smell like you, she didn’t act like you. she wasn’t what rafe wanted.
“fine, then im leaving.” the girl stomps away, like anything could compare to you leaving. rafe finishes the rest of the bottle before flopping down on the couch, letting the alcohol flowing through his system lull him into unconsciousness.
--
“you deserve to go out and party as much as he does y/n.” stephanie sighs, trying to convince you to join her tonight at the huge beach bash, but you don’t want to risk running into rafe.
“i know, i just don't want to see him with another girl.” you sigh. you may have been the one to break it off with rafe, but you weren't fully over him yet.
“maybe you need to get with one of the turons.” stephanie shrugs. “you know what they say, to get over you gotta get under…”
“that actually might not be a bad idea.” you admit. maybe it's what you need to get rafe out of your system. a random hookup with someone you'll never see again to erase the memory of his touch from your body.
“so does that mean you're coming?” stephanie asks hopefully.
you nod, already planning what you're going to where tonight. “it does.”
--
“shit, remind me to take you out for ice cream or something to thank you for convincing me to come out tonight.” you tell stephanie, stumbling away from the main dance area with your best friend.
“girl, i knew you needed this!” she exclaims, taking a sip of her cup before frowning, realizing it's empty.
“ill go get us refills, hold on.” you are a lot less drunk than stephanie, so you guide her to sit down before heading to find more alcohol to fill both your cups, wanting to enjoy tonight as much as possible.
you finally find a plastic folding table with some bottles on it, and quickly refill both your drinks before turning, gasping when you run right into someone.
“y/n.” rafe gasps out, his eyes bloodshot like he's been crying. he drops to his knees before before you, making you raise your eyebrows. “i miss you so much. please take me back, ill do anything, ill-” rafe begins to beg, his words slurred as it's obvious he's been drinking.
“rafe.” you cut him off eventually. rafe stops speaking, hands coming to rest on the back of your calves as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “you're drunk.”
“no, no, no.” rafes head drops, leaning to press kisses along your knees. “im drunk but im serious. please, just give me another chance, ill do anything.”
you frown, hating seeing rafe this way. you broke up with him because you thought he spent too much time getting high and needed to get control of his temper, and didn't know what you could do to help that beside let him work through it by himself. 
“anything, y/n.” rafe continues, his hands gripping your legs so tightly. you glance up, looking at all the people at the party staring at you, probably shocked that rafe would get on his knees and beg for anyone to come back.
“you need to stop doing drugs as often.” you state to rafe, making sure to keep your voice low enough to not have it in earshot. “and you gotta work on not getting so angry at the pogues. i don't care that you hate them but you can't constantly be getting into fights.”
“done.” rafe says, nodding his head. “i just need you. ive been a mess without you.”
“we can give it another shot.” you say, and rafes shoots to his feet, his lips pressing against yours. you set the cups down on the table next to you before kissing back, hearing a smattering of whoops and cheers as you make out, your head turning dizzy like the alcohol on rafes tongue is affecting your own.
“i need you, please.” rafe says, and you know exactly what he's asking for. it's what you've been desperately craving from him as well. your bodies were beyond compatible, and you know no boy would compare, so even in the period that you were broken up, you didn't even bother trying to sleep with anyone.
“i have to find stephanie.” you tell rafe, knowing you need to check your friend is good before doing anything, but you loop your fingers through rafes and tug him behind you until you get back to the main dance area, seeing topper with his arm slung around stephanies waist while she grinds against him.
“see she's good.” rafe says, his voice husky, and you know that he's already getting turned on just from the thought of having you again.
you let rafe lead you to his truck, parked in a somewhat isolated spot, but you don't care at this point if people see you as you both climb into the back seat.
“thank you for giving me another chance.” rafe says, his eyes shiny in the low lighting. “i missed you so much. i was such a wreck, but i didn't sleep with anyone else even though we were broken up. i only wanted you.”
“rafe.” you coo, pressing your lips against his, stroking your fingertips over his jaw. “i missed you too.”
“wanna show you how much it means to me.” rafe says, guiding you backwards until your back is against the seat. “that you're giving me a second chance.” his lips skim over yours before he moves lower, schooching down the seat until he's resting between your legs. he takes the bottom of your skirt and pushes it up, revealing your panties.
“you really do gotta-” your speech is cut off with a gasp when rafe presses his lips against your underwear, kissing your cunt through the fabric. 
“gotta what baby?” rafe asks, moving to kiss along your thighs as well, his teeth occasionally making an appearance as he drags them against your skin, nipping when you open your mouth to reply.
“gotta get your shit together since im giving you a second chance.” you finally finish your sentence.
“oh, i will baby.” rafe says, rubbing his fingertip over your center, smirking to himself when he sees the fabric dampened with your wetness. “i went so crazy without you, id do anything to not lose you again.”
“take them off, please.” you whine. rafe tugs at your panties, sliding them down your legs until he has to guide them over your heels. he takes the material and scrunches it up, tossing it onto his drivers seat. “i’m keeping those.” he informs you.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile, reaching down to rub your thumb against his cheekbone. 
rafe sighs with relief into your touch, leaning his head against your hand. “i’ve missed your taste.” he licks his lips, eyes on your core.
you spread your legs as much as you can in the back of the truck, wishing momentarily that you were having this reunion in a bed, but you know rafe wouldn’t be able to wait that long.
rafe doesn’t hesitate to lean forward, burying his head between your legs. his wide tongue flicks through your folds, licking over your cunt before swirling around your clit.
“god, you’re so good at this.” you moan out, moving your hand to rafes hair, taking the strands between your fingers to keep his face shoved into your cunt, not that he plans on stopping any time soon.
rafe sucks at your clit, feeling rewarded by coaxing moans out of you. his hands grip your thighs, squeezing your delicate flesh between his fingertips.
rafe moves his mouth lower, letting out obscene sounds as he slurps the wetness away from your hole before pushing his tongue against the ring of muscle. he begins to thrust immediately, pushing his tongue in and out of your entrance, giving you the first stimulation you’ve had since you broke up.
“the sweetest taste.” rafe says when he pulls away slightly to kiss along your inner thighs. “i don’t know how i lived without it.”
���you know what my plan was for tonight?” you hum, needing more from rafe, even as his mouth drops back around your clit. “to get with a random turon to help myself get over you.”
you feel rafe pause, his entire body stilling before his eyes raise to make contact with yours. “you were going to sleep with someone else?”
“i couldn’t get over you, i had to do something.” you say, knowing exactly what rafes reaction will be as he rises, wanting to draw that fire and passion out in him. it didn’t matter that you were the one who broke up with rafe, you thought at the time it would be better for both of you, but now you know you can’t live without him.
rafe moves quickly, his strong hands gripping your hips and turning you over. you quickly adjust, pushing up on your elbows as you place your knees on the seat, arching your back to show off your cunt.
rafe releases himself from his shorts, tugging them down his thighs before he lines himself up, sinking in with one quick stroke. your walls meld to his cock, still feeling like you were made for him.
“imagining me sleeping with another guy has really got you worked up, huh?” you question, breath coming out in a pant as rafe instantly begins to thrust.
“shut up.” rafe groans, hips snapping forward into yours. “you’re mine. you’re never leaving me again.”
“yeah?” you question, bringing your ass back to meet rafes thrusts. “gonna get clean for me? gonna get it together?”
“anything for you.” rafe vows, glancing out the windows to make sure no one is looking as he takes you from behind, not that they would be able to see through the tint anyways.
you moan as rafe grabs your ass, relieved to finally have him inside of you again as his cock repeatedly enters you. rafe knows he can’t last very long, having been so desperate for you that he can’t hold himself back as your cunt clenches around him.
“feels so good rafey.” you whine.
“call me that again.” rafe says, needing to hear the nickname slip from between your lips again.
“rafey.” you call out. rafe flips you yet again, this time onto your back as he immediately reenters you, moving too fast for you to comprehend until his mouth is pressed against yours in a searing kiss.
“again, please.” rafe mumbles against your lips, bringing a hand to your clit and rubbing it with his thumb as he thrusts rapidly, knowing your next moan is going to send him over the edge.
you place your hands on the back of his head, giving him a strong kiss as he plays with your clit, your orgasm building as well. you pull away when you can’t hold back the moan anymore, “oh god, yes, rafey.” rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder as he cums, pumping into you throughout his high as his thumb finally brings you to orgasm as well, clit pulsing as you both pant, letting out low moans and groans as your bodies come down.
rafe presses kisses to your cheeks, your jaw slackened open, still recovering. “i’ve missed your pussy so much.” rafe says before looking down, watching himself pull out.
“come here.” you whine, hating that he’s pulled away. rafe quickly tucks himself back into his pants before hovering over your body again, cuddling into your shoulder. it’s an awkward position, legs askew and body parts pressing against the doors of the truck.
“can i take you home? i want to hold you while i sleep, make sure i don’t let you go again.” rafe says, willing to beg if he needs to.
“of course.” you stretch out your sore muscles, eyelids already feeling heavy, but you know you just have to wait for rafe to drive you home before you can sleep.
it’s not awkward despite the time away from each other as you move to the front seat, making sure to text stephanie, who quickly responds with a picture of herself in toppers bed, making you giggle.
“i love you.” rafe blurts out, unable to not tell you when hearing your laugh.
“i love you too.” you lean over to kiss rafe on the cheek as he drives you back to his house, but you are already home as his fingers link with yours.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld
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luxesiren · 9 months
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⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑!𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
cw :: mentions of violence, nsfw headcanons (MDNI)
a/n :: i saw this picture again the other day and i had to write something abt it cause jesus christ…look at him! (art creds: @/jpegjetty on twt)
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hockey player!armin who's been skating since he was young and started playing hockey in memory of his dad.
hockey player!armin who usually isn't into violent sports but loves hockey with a burning passion and it is extremely good at it
hockey player!armin who outsmarts his opponents in every game, making them mad but he never cared. he always bragged by smirking and skating past them sometimes winking just to spite them.
hockey player!armin who has many girls fawning over him just like his other teammates but is always surprised by the number of girls who actually like him
hockey player!armin who met you at one of his games and it was completely random but he saw you in the stands and was instantly attracted to you.
hockey player!armin was too nervous to say something to you even though eren had prompted him to say something stop pining over you. "dude, just talk to her." he would shake his head and sighed, "i can't.
hockey player!armin who almost fell to his knees when you finally talked to him.
hockey player!armin who you realized was a sweetheart out of the rink and just kept the cocky persona when he was playing cause it made him feel good.
hockey player!armin who takes you out every friday after his games even if he's tired, bringing you flowers and making sure you have a good time. going all out because he wanted to see you.
hockey player!armin lets you wear his backup jersey to all of his games now even though he hasn't asked you out yet but he loves seeing you with his name on your back.
hockey player!armin who points to you in the stands when he makes the shot because you're his good luck charm and even though all the other girls fawn over it, you know it's for you and you only.
hockey player!armin who finally asks you out on one of your dates and completely surprises you but of course, you said yes.
hockey player!armin who is usually the calm one out of everyone on the team and talks everyone out of fighting each other but gets into an altercation with another player on another team. you see the big group before it even happens standing on the bleachers to get a better look, the crowd gasping when everyone starts to move and a fight breaks out.
you move faster than expected, sitting in the front by the barricade watching eren pull armin off the other player. both of them still yelling at each other and armin trying to break out of eren's arms, but that unwavering cockiness was still there when he wiped the blood off his lips and skated towards the barricade shooting a smirk your way before sitting out for the rest of the game.
hockey player!armin loves kissing you, whatever chance he gets. sometimes you're in his lap and his hands are all over you, you can't help but to squirm in his hold.
hockey player!armin who took such good care of you when you guys had sex for the first time, taking his time prepping you and making sure you were satisfied. "right there, baby?" "does that feel good?" "can you cum for me?" "you look so pretty like this"
remember when i said hockey player!armin was a sweetheart? yeah not when he's frustrated or when he's lost a game, having never lost a game before, his first loss got to him and he took it out on you. you would never forget how rough he got, how filthy his words were as he fucked you into the mattress.
"min, min, 's too much. s-slow down!" you cried out but he just sped up, his hips smacking against your ass loud enough that it echoes in the room, "c'mon you can take it. you've taken it before like a good slut, haven't you?
hockey player!armin doesn't get jealous often but he notices how men look at you, he's usually embarrassed when he leaves marks visible on your neck but tonight he makes the exception. he wants to send a message to the guy who's always hitting on you, that way he won't hit on you again.
hockey player!armin who eats your pussy like a starved man, he's sloppy with the way spit over your cunt and slurps up your slick making your thighs shake but he loves when they're around his head trying not to close around his head but he doesn't care. "f-fuck, armin!" your hands carding through his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy.
grinding on his face but his hands grip your thighs even tighter, he relishes in the fact that he gets to see you like this and no one else will see you like this. it doesn't take him long to make you cum, overstimulating you when he licks up all your cum. "you taste good, baby."
hockey player!armin who says 'i love you' after months of being together and takes you back to his place to engrave it in your skin with every kiss and every word he whispers in your ear as he slowly thrusts into you, taking his time enjoying this part of his thoroughly planned evening making sure you feel all of his love, "i love you, baby." "i love you too, minnie."
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© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me, please don’t steal, copy, or repost to any other websites
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slvttyplum · 3 months
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you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.”
going back and telling suguru things you told him with confidence was something you cold-heartedly regretted; he was a gossiper.
but with the particular issue you told him about, he didn’t just gossip about it, or make fun of you, or bring it up at random times; he decided to help.
“he can’t even make you nut? that’s a problem, princess."
of course, your cheeks turned hot, and you shooed him off and told him never to bring it up again, but he didn’t listen. what did he do? just that.
he brought it up time and time again, even in front of your boyfriend. slapping your hand over his mouth to get him to shut up.
“you really don’t want to do anything about it?” his mouth in a pout and his hand sliding up your thigh.
you know he’s probably teasing you, but a part of you actually wants to give in to see if he’s actually serious.
as usual, you ignore him, yet he keeps bringing it up, as if having a partner that can’t satisfy you is bad enough.
“don’t knock it til you try it.” and that’s when you gave in. stripping off your clothes as your lips press against his, taking in his scent.
and damn did he taste good.
his hands roamed your body like he was looking for something; his touch sent shivers down your spine. you felt good.
this was wrong, and you knew that, but if it was wrong, why did you feel so good? so good that you’re moaning into his mouth and sliding your fingers through his hair.
sliding his arms under your thighs and picking you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist like muscle memory.
it’s your chance; stop now. you can tell your partner everything if you just disconnect the kiss; that’s what you were supposed to be thinking in that moment.
you were supposed to be fighting suguru off and cursing him out, but you weren't; you were condoning this and, worst of all, loving it.
his hands gripping your ass so hard, you can feel the tip of his fingernails digging into your flesh.
“tell me to stop.” his voice in a whisper as he disconnects his lips from yours for a second before diving back in, his lips on top of yours one second and yours on top of his the other.
the taste of cinnamon and mint swirled around your mouths, and it was heaven. you needed more.
you didn’t bother to respond to his question; if you didn’t tell him to stop, then there wouldn’t be a conversation. this felt too good; you couldn’t stop now.
the next thing you know, you’re on the bed, and he’s in between your legs, his tongue teasing you as he licks the inside of your thigh and then your slit.
a shiver being sent throughout your body, then tingles closely following. that’s the sensation you were missing for months—a sensation suguru was finally able to give you.
his tongue gliding over your clit and his middle finger entering your tight, wet cunt, your back arching.
this was the feeling you were craving, and there suguru was in all his glory with his hair tied back in a bun, eating your wet pussy sloppy.
before you could reach climax, suguru got up and lined himself up with your entrance. this was your final chance to stop, but you didn’t.
he pushed into you, and your moans were bouncing off the wall, your hands gripping the sheets and suguru’s thumb on your clit.
the pleasure you were receiving was out of this world; it felt so good that you didn’t even want him to stop. the way his hips moved and pushed you deep into the mattress was sexy.
his grunts and guidance as the both of you switched positions repeatedly were sinister; he treated you like you were fragile, yet he was fucking the shit out of you.
when all was said and done and you were laid on your back with cum all over you, there was no regret; all there was was blissful pleasure.
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ln444 · 6 months
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dating lando. . .
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cw: mentions of sex, f!reader, fluff, slight smut.
notes: my first post 😭 i'm not very confident abt it but i hope you guys will like it! my requests are open so don't hesitate if you have any suggestions or just want to talk ! enjoy<3
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physical touch; i feel like lando would be incredibly touchy, even if it's just his hand on your thigh or sitting beside you with your shoulders touching. he simply needs to feel close to you every chance he gets. in public, he might dial back his affection slightly because he treasures those private moments, but that won't stop him from stealing sweet, discreet kisses when no one is watching or quietly holding your hand because he just can't keep his hands off you. in crowded places, he's the kind of person who instinctively puts his arm around your waist to ensure your safety. when it's just the two of you, lando can't help but be hands-on. he'll find any excuse to touch you, whether it's running his fingers through your hair or playing with your hands while you're chilling. he'll pull you closer every time you're beside him, or even have you on his lap while he's engrossed in some random pc game. kissing you is practically an obsession for him, and it's not limited to your lips. he adores exploring every inch of your skin, planting kisses on your neck, nose, cheeks, hands, and thighs. however, his absolute favorite place to kiss is still your lips. every kiss from lando feels as passionate and full of adoration as the first time, and he can never get enough of it.
quality time; he would definitely message you whenever he's available to spend time with you and invite you to hang out. he absolutely loves your company, even if it's just the two of you relaxing on the bed, watching entertaining videos and tiktoks, or having silly conversations. however, his favorite moments are when you embark on fun dates, like going to the arcade or go karting. his heart is full of joy from seeing you happy during these moments and he wants to tattoo every second of them into his memory. lando likes all types of dates because his primary desire is to share time with you. it might depend on his mood; sometimes he just wants to chill with you all day, staying in bed or playing games together. other times; he wants to venture out and go dance with you all night or go for a midnight swim. in the end, what really matters is that you are together.
words; in the early days of your relationship it was kinda hard for lando to express his feelings, he felt a bit uneasy because he was not used to vocalizing his feelings, he's more the type to keep everything for himself. but, with you, he learns surprisingly fast to talk about how he feels, both negative or positive emotions. you became his safe place. he would always praise you when he has the chance to even if it's for small random things, he would always remind you how much he's proud of you (and you do the same too ofc). even if this man loves teasing you, he also knows when to be serious and how to make you feel valued and loved. he uses a lot of nicknames like "angel", "love" or "sweetheart" because he knows how much you love them and how special it makes you feel. you were definitely the first one to say i love you, not that lando didn't want to say it but he was just too nervous to do it but since you did, he can't help but say it everyday.
sex; lando always makes sure you feel safe and comfortable when you're having sex. it doesn't mean that he doesn't like it rough tho, he absolutely loves having rough sex with you, even more when he's stressed or frustrated because of a race; hair pulling, spanking, face fucking, dirty talk... but always while making sure that you're okay. when it comes to vanilla sex, lando can become the softest man ever, he would whisper sweet things to you like; "that's my pretty girl", "i'm so lucky to have such a beautiful girl just for me", "you're doing so good angel", accompanied by gentle touches and kisses all over your body or when he's softly making love to you. his favorite thing is eating you out, he's literally obsessed with your pussy and will find any excuses to get a taste, even more when you ride his face while your eyes are locked with his.
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they weren’t the first| finnick odair
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anyone else random get thrown onto hunger games tik tok? 
summary| after the jabberjays it’s revealed that peeta and katniss weren’t the first pair to make it out of an arena alive part 2
“whose y/n?”
Johanna couldn’t help but chuckle at Katniss’s question. When the jabberjays attacked Katniss ran after what she thought was Prim, meanwhile Finnick ran after an unknown voice that he called Y/N.
Everyone's attention gets turned to Johanna in that moment, as she stared out at Finnick sat in the sand where the waves reached him. Beetee looked at her as if he already knew the story of the mysterious Y/N, while Katniss and Peeta sat waiting to be told the lore.
“She was the female tribute in the 65th hunger games.” “Finnick tried protecting her in the games, she was only 13 at the time.” Beetee continued to clarify once Johanna stopped talking. Katniss and Peeta looks at each other in confusion. “You didn’t think you two were the first did you?” Johanna’s question confused the pair even more.
“Both Finnick and Y/N survived? I feel like we’d know of her then.” Peeta questioned. “No no Peeta, she means the first to fall in love in the games.” Katniss gasped, sudden sadness washed over her. Finnick didn’t deserve to lose someone he loved. At the silence that took hold, Beetee spoke up feeling the need to explain Y/N to the unknowing.
“I was Y/N mentor, as I said she was only 13 when she was reaped... the youngest in the arena. She didn’t have any hopes of winning those games, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. She ran and hid for the beginning of the games, in a tree much like you Katniss. Finnick was killing tributes so fast I knew it was only a matter of time until he found her, but when he did he didn’t kill her-”
“How was I supposed to do that?”
Finnick’s voice startled everyone, looking up he stood and joined the group in retelling the story of Y/N.
“Y/N was too young, she had no chance of survival with the tributes that we had. She never trained, she knew the method of hiding she was going to use and she did it.”
“How- How did she die?” Peeta almost didn’t ask, but it was something he wanted to know, needed to know.
Finnick sighed, his head dropping at the memory of it, “Once she knew we were the only 2 left, she- she ran off and jumped off this-this waterfall, she couldn’t swim. She drowned. I tried to save her, but.”
Finnick stopped, he couldn’t bring himself to continue the story, “she made me promise her that when she had to die to make it painless but I couldn’t do it, she killed herself in one of the most painful ways.” “Drowning.”
“You went after her Finnick, you tried to save her.” Beetee tries to comfort the boy, but Johanna wasn’t having it, “And what Beetee, he revived her and then what? He’d just have to kill her anyways or kill himself. Who's to say she wouldn’t have killed him?-”
“Y/N wouldn’t have kill me, Johanna you know that!” Finnick snapped before retreating into himself. “I could’ve sworn- I felt her move.” He started as if he was questioning his memory but the sentence ended as a certain statement. They all looked at each other with sadness in their eyes. They and Finnick all know that if he was right, and Y/N was alive when they were taken from the arena, she was long gone by now. The Capital wouldn’t let 2 victors leave the arena.
“I felt her move. When we got taken from the arena. She moved.”
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chlorinecake · 10 days
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HELLO
Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!
It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc
leading you on | l.hs
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♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…
loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader
♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words
a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!
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Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.
Not emotionally, that is, but physically.
Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.
Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.
The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.
But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.
Who you've always loved him to be.
However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.
Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.
You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.
Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.
However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.
Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.
A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.
Off camera, things were the same.
You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.
But then... something changed.
Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.
|Messaging| 💬
Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?
You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...
Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy
You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^
You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.
"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."
"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-
"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.
"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."
You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.
"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"
"Will Heeseung be there?"
"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.
It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.
"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."
Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"
FLASHBACK
It all started with a picture.
A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.
Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK
Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.
Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩
pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻
Danielle, another fan joked.
Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔
Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.
"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.
That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."
His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.
Oh God-
"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.
pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-
Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-
Chelbear03 has left the stream
A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.
"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.
"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.
"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"
His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.
The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.
"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.
"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.
"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.
anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?
yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭
Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him
"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."
pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|
"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...
"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.
"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."
“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.
“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”
Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.
You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.
“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”
“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”
You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.
You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.
“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”
“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.
You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.
One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.
|Messaging| 💬
You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?
Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)
You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D
Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?
You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time
Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm
You: Cya ! 🐒
THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.
You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.
Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.
It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.
You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.
Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.
Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.
You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.
That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.
His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.
His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.
“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.
“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.
“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.
“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.
“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”
“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”
“What is?”
“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”
“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”
He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.
“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.
“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.
“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”
“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"
You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.
“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.
Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.
You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.
yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧
Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩
mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s
pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD
Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨
laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;
yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3
You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.
"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.
"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"
"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."
"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.
"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."
Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.
He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.
"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"
"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.
Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why
Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.
“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”
"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.
"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."
"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.
“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”
"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.
"Moving on, next question!"
anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈
Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.
It was really a bad trait of yours...
"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.
How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-
laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...
pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹
In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.
"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.
yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-
Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏
Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.
By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.
"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."
The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.
"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."
"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...
"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.
"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"
He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."
Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.
Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔
maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-
You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.
"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.
pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)
maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{
maindancertypeshit has left the stream
You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.
"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.
yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(
Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭
mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...
Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.
"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.
That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.
"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.
"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.
You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.
"Heeseung, what're you-"
He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.
There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.
"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.
You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...
You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.
laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????
mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0
Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?
yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁
The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.
A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.
"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.
"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.
What was going on with you?
"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."
"Heeseung-"
"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."
The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.
"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.
"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."
"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.
"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."
"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.
"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"
ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.
You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.
You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.
Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.
It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...
Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.
Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.
To be ruined.
"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."
He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.
"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"
"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.
"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.
"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"
You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.
Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-
"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."
He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.
"Its a few things, actually-"
"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.
"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."
"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.
"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.
Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-
"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."
"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.
"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.
"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.
You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.
"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.
He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.
That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.
You almost couldn't in a state like this.
It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.
"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.
You were having second thoughts.
"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."
Even though this was all your idea to begin with-
"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."
In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.
You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.
Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.
The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.
Almost too good, honestly…
“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.
Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.
“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"
It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.
“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.
"What're you-"
Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."
He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.
“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.
You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.
"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"
Fuck.
You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.
"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.
Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-
"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.
Well, most of the way, at least...
"____?"
"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"
"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."
Thud.
You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.
His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.
"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.
"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.
You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.
How nice he felt.
"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.
He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.
"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"
"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.
Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.
There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.
And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.
He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.
He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"
You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.
He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,
“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.
He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”
Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.
“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”
Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.
As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.
Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”
He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.
He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.
Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.
There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.
“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.
You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.
You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.
You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.
“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.
“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.
To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.
“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.
“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”
“Heeseung-”
“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”
“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.
From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.
You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.
”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.
You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”
Fin…
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♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!
♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash
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winter-kh-sideblog · 7 months
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Axel from chain of memories is just so funny as a concept. I’m Obsessed with him
It’s like if the horrifying assassin sent to kill you was a minimum wage employee going through a divorce. And he didnt feel any guilt or apprehension about trying to kill you, (a random child LITERALLY just trying to find and hug your friends) but he Was lazy (depressed) as heck and hated his job. And trying to kill you faster so he could depression nap.
And his one source of joy was scaring the crap out of people and torturing them to death.
And ALSO he was a single dad struggling to work two jobs who loved his kids dearly but that did not make him a Better person or more likely to spare you .
The ONLY chance u have of survival comes down to whether or not he’s lazy enough to give up and depression nap.
The kids maybe make him More likely to stay and kill you because hes secretly worried he’s a bad father and he doesnt have to face up to Having Conversations About Feelings and Admitting He Cares About His Kids for however long hes scaring u.
He has stupid goth makeup with little clown looking teardrops under his eyes and a stupid catchphrase. He barely gets payed and has like no vacation days and is overworked because his company is stupidly short staffed and his ex husband is his manager and keeps sending him to assassinate his few remaining coworkers and hes too low in the company to argue and explain why this is a stupid idea. And management being like “ugh its like you dont even care about this job and you just wanna do the bare minimum and clock out. Now go kill your coworkers”
And ALSO its so funny because you dont know ANY of this
Imagine a scary horror clown man trying to murder you and you are About to die and then the horror clown’s alarm goes off and hes like “oh thank god its union mandated paid ten minute break. They CANNOT make me work in this time Fuck yeah goodbye loser” and he just Teleports across the room and is immediately on the phone like “babe STOP texting me . I DONT want you back. Maybe stop trying to kill our employees if youre so mad about us being short staffed. WAIT did you send me here to die. Was this a murder attempt. Hello?!?! HELLO?!??? DONT HANG UP ON ME?!??” And then he sighs and shrugs and starts reapplying glimmer eyeshadow until another alarm goes off and hea like “ewwwwwww work time.” And he stares at you like hed rather do anything in the world than resume your death fight. And then he stabs you with an on fire weapon and starts evil cackling with his full chest
Literally no one else will ever be him
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stylesharrys · 28 days
Text
hot distraction [bisexual!y/n]
authors note: a little cheeky subby!y/n smut for you guys, had this idea in my drafts for months and months but i never really got round to writing it. anyway, here you go darlings, enjoy <3
warnings: dom/sub relationships, unprotected sex, kissing, teasing, swearing, spanking, dirty talk, anal (fingering)
word count: 2,862
summary: y/n breaks up with her girlfriend and harry helps take her mind off things.
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//
Harry has no idea what to do. He’s never seen her cry before and he doesn’t know if he should give her a hug or try to make light of the situation.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
Harry’s even more confused than he was before. He’ll never ever understand women’s emotions. And by the sight before him, he doesn’t think he ever wants to.
“S’okay, petal. It hurts now but it’ll be a distant memory in a few weeks time.”
She scoffs at him, at his sorry attempt to cheer her up. Y/N doesn’t need or want pity. She wants to warn off all women and whore it up for a little bit.
If she’s honest, the breakup has been a long time coming. They’d only been together six months but things weren’t the same as when they first met.
Alora was a beautiful woman, funny and kind. But the first few times of fooling around were a lot more exciting than six months in, where her sex drive seemed to just vanish.
Y/N has thought that perhaps she was the problem. Maybe she craves sex too much and too often and that’s the issue. She also thought that maybe she secretly had a fear of commitment and that’s what made her more than okay with Alora calling things off.
She knows now that’s not the case. Alora was seeing other people behind Y/N’s back. Given, they never really spoke about being exclusive, but Y/N had just assumed that if Alora was seeing other people, she’d have the decency to let Y/N know.
And now, she’s about ready to swear off all women.
She stands from the sofa, wiping the tears from her face and taking a shaky breath. There’s no way in hell she’s going to ruin her Friday night sobbing over another woman. No fucking chance.
“Do you have plans tonight?” she asks Harry, chin raised as she acts unbothered by her situation.
Harry shakes his head. “No, why? You wanna go out?”
Her lip is taut between her teeth as she considers the proposition. A night out could be perfect – sex with a hot, random stranger will most definitely take her mind off things.
She nods, once. But it’s like Harry can smell the hesitation. He squints at her, leaning forward in his spot on the sofa.
“You’re not just wanting to go out so you can have a one night stand, are you?”
“No!” her voice is high-pitched, a dead giveaway that that’s exactly what she plans on doing.
Harry huffs, closing his eyes for a moment. It’s no secret that he’s got the hots for Y/N. He’s always found her incredibly attractive. But in the two years he’s known her, she’s only ever dated women.
He doesn’t think there’s ever even been an instance where she’s acknowledged another man. Harry notices her sheepish expression and his tummy knots and twists.
“If you were into guys…” he mumbles out, more to himself but it still reaches Y/N’s ears and she frowns.
“I am.”
Harry’s head snaps up, staring at her in bewilderment. “You are? I thought you were gay.”
Y/N laughs softly. “I am… slightly. I prefer men usually, but women are just softer and more attentive I find.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, a cocky smirk on his lips. Bingo.
“That just means you’ve never been with the right guys.”
His voice has grown deeper, sultry. And the entire mood of the room has changed. There’s a tension in the atmosphere, one they’re both awfully familiar with but never with one another.
“Is that so?”
They’re dancing on a tight rope between friends and something more, neither too sure who’s going to fall first. It feels naughty, wrong. So wrong to allow this tension, these thoughts.
But there’s nothing inappropriate about it. They’re both single, consenting adults. What would it matter if he kissed her? If she kissed him back? If he spent an hour between her legs and had her creaming all over his cock?
“And from what you’ve been telling me, wasn’t you getting frustrated that Alora was too vanilla?”
Heat rises to her cheeks at his words. Harry moves closer, tips of his fingers ghosting are her bare thighs, the hem of her baggy t-shirt barely covering her knickers underneath.
“Something tells me, you don’t want something soft. You’ve just never been manhandled the way you want, so you’re taking the easier route.”
Y/N has never felt so seen in her life. “Isn’t that right, pet?”
She grows shy under his words, feeling small and vulnerable and her little panties are fucking soaked.
“Maybe,” she squeaks.
Harry’s smirk grows tenfold, eyes dark and lustful. His gaze never leaves her face as he stands in front of her. His tall build towering over Y/N’s.
“Personally, I think you just want to be a good girl…”
His hand finds her face, gently caressing her jaw as he speaks. When her eyes flutter closed absentmindedly, she hears Harry tut before her.
“Keep those pretty eyes open, puppy.”
Her eyes open, wide. All doe-like and fluttery. It awakens that hunger deep in Harry’s stomach – one full of need and desire.
“Y/N… d’you like it when I call you puppy?”
She nods, so innocent and sheepish. It has Harry’s cock twitching in his pants. God, she’s going to be the death of him.
Y/N’s nuzzling her face into his hand, eyes heavy but open, like she doesn't want to be scolded by Harry. He pouts down at her, a look of sympathy in his eyes and Y/N’s never felt so warm and safe.
“My poor petal, all touch starved and needy.”
It’s like a flip has been switched within her. She’s no longer that bubbly and bratty girl he’s always known. She’s soft and quiet, desperate and eager to please and Harry is stretching out his boxers.
“Go in your bedroom for me, puppy. Want you naked with your legs spread.”
He places a gentle kiss to her lips, barely offering a taste of what’s to come. The act has her heart leaping before she rushes to her bedroom to rid herself of any clothes.
She’s never allowed herself to look at Harry in the way she is now. She always told herself that friends are only friends and never to indulge in anything else with them.
Y/N can admit that she’s always found him attractive, always enjoyed his company and mayb often stared a little too long whenever he was topless or when the veins in his arms and hands were that little bit more visible than usual.
She supposes he’s always had some sort of chokehold on her, something she’s never thought too deep about. But now, she can’t get out of her head. Laying naked on her bed, legs spread as he approaches her bedroom door.
She’s pulsing, cunt hot and leaking. God, she doesn't remember the last time she felt this turned on, this excited, this ready to submit completely.
Whatever he wants, she’ll give him. Whatever he offers, she’ll take.
Harry eyes her as he enters her bedroom, gaze focused on that weeping little cunt. He’s holding his breath, fighting back a wanton cry. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so sexy in his life.
Y/N watches with glossy eyes as he tugs his t-shirt over his head, the ripples of his golden skin exciting her more. If he’ll let her, she’ll happily lick the expanse of every single tattoo adoring his body.
She’ll do anything. Anything.
Her hips begin to squirm as his thumbs loop into the waistband of his shorts and boxers, anticipation getting the better of her. Harry notices, pulls his hands away and raises a brow.
“I don’t remember saying you could move.”
Y/N’s body stills, blood running cold. Her lips are pursed into a thin line – “I’m sorry.” Her words come out shyly, like she’s embarrassed to be told off.
Harry tuts, no longer interested in pulling himself free. Instead he moves toward the foot of the bed and climbs up on his knees, sitting between her shaking thighs.
Y/N’s chest is heaving in excitement, bottom lip gnawed between her teeth. Harry reaches for her left thigh, gently massaging the soft and supple skin before raising his hand and dropping it again in a harsh smack.
She shrieks at the unexpected impact, brows knitted as she bites back a moan.
Oh, he wasn’t fucking around.
“If you’re sorry then you’ll lay on your tummy and take your punishment.” He flips her over before she has chance to register his words. Flat on her stomach, hands held behind her back, Harry takes her in.
He lets his hand caress her hips for a moment, trailing down to her bum and he smoothes over the skin. “And I don’t want to hear a fucking sound.”
He spanks her once, her entire body jolting. Y/N buries her face into her pillows, suffocating any desperate moans that beg to be cried. She keeps quiet, eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Harry spanks her again, harder this time. His hand print is left on her supple skin and he groans to himself. He spreads her cheeks apart for a moment, allows himself the sight of her dripping cunt, eagerly trying to clench around something.
“Look at you, puppy. So wet and good for me.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
Her bottom is sore, stinging as he finally relents. There’s tears in her eyes as she struggles to compose her breathing. She’s not brave enough to admit she almost came from her punishment.
Harry takes a moment to admire his work, how raw her pretty bum is. Her skin is beginning to rise in the form of his handprint, sore and tender. He holds her hips, thumbs rubbing along the stripey lines of silvering stretch marks on the sides of her bum.
“Pretty puppy, did so well for me.”
She coos at his praise, fingers wiggling in an attempt to feel him. Harry chuckles, leaning down to pepper kisses to her bum and up her spine. He fools her with his kindness for a moment, allowing her body to relax under his touch.
But when his lips reach her neck, he grabs a handful of her hair and yanks her head up, teeth nipping at her jaw and nosing at her ear.
“Now you’re going to be a good puppy and let Daddy fuck your pretty little hole, okay?”
Y/N’s cunt throbs at his words. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck, she can’t get it out of her head. Harry releases his hold on her hair, her face dropping back into her pillows as he clambers off her.
He strips from his boxers and shorts, thick length smacking at his lower tummy as he clambers back onto the bed again. Harry’s hard, painfully so and Y/N wants nothing more than to lay on her back and watch him work his way around her body.
But he doesn’t allow that. Instead, his hands find her hips and he’s hoisting her bum in the air, back arched and chest to the mattress with her face buried in the pillows.
The sight is mesmerising and Harry can’t look away. Pretty pussy all wet and plump. The tip of his cock slides through her slit and Harry lets out a shaky whimper. A noise that does not go unheard by Y/N, who’s jaw slacks at the sound of it.
She’s eager for more, gagging for his cock. She’s never felt so submissive in her life, so willing to be used as a fuck toy. And she never would’ve pegged Harry for the type.
Y/N supposes he does possess a lot of dominant qualities. Whenever he speaks, all eyes are on him. Whatever he says, it’s always respected. And when Harry doesn’t like something, nobody challenges him.
It’s been right in front of her the whole time. They’ve both been so blind.
“So pretty, baby. Look at you.”
The praise goes straight to her head. She’s woozy and needy and thinks she might fucking cry if he doesn’t fill her with his cook soon.
“Daddy’s good little puppy. Want me to fill your little hole, baby? Want Daddy to fuck you so hard you can’t even remember your name?”
Y/N’s too deep into subspace to respond, but that’s not a good enough excuse for Harry. He strikes down on her sore bum again and she shrieks, nodding feverishly.
“Yes, Daddy! Please, I’ve been so good.”
The sound of her begging is something Harry will never let himself forget. Her body responds to every tiny touch he offers, she keens for him. For more.
Lining himself at her hole, Harry pushes forward just enough to allow her half of his length. A wanton cry escapes her lips, muffled by her pillow as her body tenses.
Harry gives her little time to adjust to his length, sheathing himself further into her tight hole until he bottoms out.
Y/N struggles to stay quiet, struggles to not reach for him, to touch him. Harry reaches for her hands again, pulling them behind her back and holding her in place by her wrists.
“You’re fucking soaked, puppy.” He praises, breathless at the sight of himself tucked deep inside her.
Harry begins to rock his hips, slowly at first until he finds a comfortable pace and her ass jiggles with every thrust he gives. Y/N’s cunt grips him like a vice, obscene noises filling their ears and Harry decides he wants to hear more.
“Wanna hear you, puppy. Tell Daddy how good it feels.”
Y/N is wailing the second she’s given permission, wild and desperate and begging for more and more and more.
Harry’s thumbing at her puckering asshole, softly smoothing over the taut skin as Y/N begins to buck her hips back into him. He’s seething through gritted teeth, struggling to keep himself together as he gently pushes his thumb into her tight hole.
“Yes, Daddy! Please… please….”
She’s incoherent as she tries to speak, words still muffled and gurgled. She can feel him in her stomach, filling every inch of her body and subconscious mind. As if she exists solely for him, for his pleasure.
“My sweet girl, taking me so well. Look at you, puppy. All dumb for my cock.”
Harry’s thrusts get harder and faster, his thumb lodged deep in her ass as he fucks into her. Y/N’s arousal soaks his pubic bone, skin slapping and gruff moans echoing through.
She can’t stay quiet, not even if she tried. Moans are tearing throug her throat with no sense of hesitancy, her entire body being rocked as Harry pummels into her.
Eyes rolling to the back of her head, jaw slack, she’s close. Her cunt begins to tighten around him, desperate to mild him dry for everything he has to offer. And Harry can feel it – he feels every little squeeze she gives him, every spasm of her slick pussy.
His spare hand smacks down on her bum in quick, constant successions, his pace impossibly faster and the breath is knocked from her lungs.
She can’t see, can’t think, can’t hear. It’s like her soul has left; experiencing eternal bliss for the first time in her life. But she feels Harry’s fat cock twitch between her walls, she feels the stinging bite of every spank, she feels her coil begin to tighten and pull.
“You gonna cum, puppy? You gonna cum all over my cock?” Harry pants.
She’s nodding, unable to find her words. It takes her a moment to catch a breath. “Please,” is all she can manage to whimper out, her entire body on fire.
Harry spanks her again, eager and hot moans bubbling from his chest. “Cum, puppy. Make a mess on Daddy’s cock.”
Y/N’s entire body begins to tremble relentlessly, a high pitched whine falling off her tongue as she explodes around him.
Her arousal coates his cock and stomach, squirting out the best it can with Harry’s length still shoved in her cunt. The sight of her squirting all over him has him seeing stars, and he’s quick to pull out, coating her back and bum in thick ribbons of arousal.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
He’s a panting mess as Y/N’s hips fall onto the mattress with a soft thud. He watches her body move gently as she catches her breath, listens to the soft pants that escape her plump lips.
Only now does he realise, he’s yet to kiss her the way he’s been dreaming. Harry crawls beside her, brushing the hair from her face and she’s quick to nuzzle into his touch.
He moves closer, his lips encapsulating hers in a soft and tender kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed and their mouths work in unison, gently. Y/N never knew she’d crave the taste of someones lips until Harry pulls away and rests his forehead against hers.
“Have a nap, puppy. You’ll need your energy for later.”
//
thank you for reading, i'd love to hear your guys' thoughts on this one 🥺
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emmyrosee · 1 month
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suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!
THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷
anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️
11 with Suna… Argument 💔
There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.
It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.
Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.
“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”
“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”
You had a crush on Osamu first.
Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.
You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.
Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.
“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”
“Don’t act like you still don’t-“
“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”
He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.
Not as a genuine frustration.
“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“
“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”
“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“
“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.
The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.
“…what?” He croaks.
“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“
“Wait- no, I just-“
“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”
He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”
“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.
“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”
“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“
“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”
He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.
The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.
There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.
He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.
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theemporium · 1 month
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[1.6k] in which a flower bouquet arrives at your door that certainly wasn't sent by your boyfriend. (based off this request)
series masterlist
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In your defence, you had nothing to do with the prank. 
It had taken a while for Luke to come around to the idea of you and Quinn being together. He loved you both, wanted nothing more than two of his favourite people in the world to be happy. But it still took some time to get used to the shift in relationships considering almost a year ago the two of you barely spoke. 
But all things considered, he was doing much better than you expected—except for one thing. 
Luke had deemed it necessary that his brother proved himself worthy of dating his best friend. 
You thought he was joking. Quinn thought he was being dramatic. And Jack thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, meaning he totally enabled his younger brother into taking the whole thing seriously. 
You had expected Luke to give his oldest brother a shovel talk. Maybe threaten him a little. Maybe even whine about it a little longer, because honestly he got over that phase a lot quicker than you expected. 
You hadn’t expected a series of trials to be set up for your boyfriend.
It started off with random questions thrown at Quinn at the most unsuspecting times, ways for Luke to see if his older brother really knew you. He asked about your favourite colour, your favourite snacks, what you liked when you were sad and so many more simple questions that had Quinn rolling his eyes as he answered. 
Then, it escalated to throwing random scenarios. Like what Quinn would do if you were stranded and he was halfway across the country. Or what Quinn would do if you had been abducted by aliens and returned with no memory of him. Or what Quinn would do if you decided to become a diehard Leafs fan.
It was annoying for Quinn, but ultimately it was harmless. 
You hadn’t realised there was another test. You hadn’t realised you inspired it when you were on the phone with Luke a couple of weeks ago. 
It became a staple in your relationship for Quinn to send you a bouquet of flowers. It was his little way of showing he cared, of showing that distance wasn’t going to get in between him showing his love for you. It was sweet and it made your heart swoon and he fucking adored the way you always called him as soon as they arrived, sharing your reaction to his chosen bouquet each time.
So, in all honesty, it was no shock to you when a bouquet had been delivered to your door that morning. You hadn’t bothered to look for a note because you knew who it was from, you knew that Quinn would probably walk out of your room and see the flowers and throw some stupid, cheesy line at you that had your body flushing. 
“What the fuck?”
It never occurred to you that Quinn was never the one who sent them. 
He stumbled out of your room around thirty minutes after you initially woke up, his eyes still tired and bleary from sleep. He was dragging his feet along the floor as he walked, a pair of sweatpants halfheartedly thrown on as he went off to find you and try to drag you back to bed. After all, it wasn’t often he got the chance to visit you during the season. Spending that limited time together in bed sounded ideal to him. 
However, his body was wide fucking awake the second he walked into the kitchen and saw an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers sat on the counter.
You turned to look at him, your smile waning a little when you noticed his pissed off expression. “Jesus, I know you’re bad before coffee in the mornings but I’ve never seen you this grumpy.” 
Quinn ignored the jab, nodding towards the flowers. “Who sent you those?” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What? You did?”
Quinn frowned as he turned to look at you. “No, I didn’t. I chose tulips. Those aren’t tulips.” 
You shot him a blank look, very well aware the huge bouquet of red roses were not tulips. 
“Maybe you forgot what you chose,” you told him with a shrug, taking a step towards him so you could wind your arms around his waist. You felt him lean into the embrace, wrapping one arm around you as the other reached towards the flowers. “You can’t remember what you’ve chosen every single time.”
“I do,” Quinn said bluntly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he remembered which flowers he sent you. The boy spent more time than he cared to admit choosing a bouquet, trying to imagine which ones you’d like the most. 
“Oh,” you murmured, but there was a cheesy grin making its way on your face as you placed a quick peck to his collarbone. “Petey was right, you’re such a sap.”
“I still don’t know how I feel about this newfound friendship between you and Petey,” Quinn grumbled when he noticed a note tucked between the stems of the flowers. He reached for it, a frown on his face as his eyes glanced over the note. “Who’s George?” 
You blinked, pulling your head back. “I don’t know a George.” 
Quinn’s expression darkened. “Well, some creep called George knows you and is now sending you flowers.” 
“What?” You grumbled as you reached for the note.
pretty flowers for a pretty girl  –george xx
You blinked. “What the fuck?”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed at the bouquet of flowers, his arm tightening around you like he was proving a point. “They are a terrible set of roses anyways. Red is so tacky. What the fuck does George think it is, Valentine’s Day? He has shitty taste.” 
“I—” You turned to your boyfriend. “Some random guy has my address and is sending me shit, and your priority is his taste in bouquets?” 
“I’m just saying,” Quinn grumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. “He isn’t gonna win you over with some measly roses.” 
You shook your head in response. “Babe, you are—” 
RING! RING! RING!
The two of you froze for a short moment, glancing at each other as your phone’s ringing continued to echo through your small kitchen. There was a moment of hesitation before Quinn reached for it, shoulders tensed like he was expecting to see some unknown number on your screen.
His body visibly relaxed when he saw it was a facetime call from Luke.
He handed you the phone, settling in behind you with his arms still wound around you like he was unwilling to let go of you anytime soon. He hooked his chin on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours as you answered the call.
“Oh. Ew.” 
You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at your best friend. “Is there a reason you’re calling me before ten? I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.”
“Just wanted to check in,” Luke said, his eyes narrowed like he was analysing something. “Hm. You look quite calm there, Quinn.”
Quinn startled a little, lifting his head. “Did you expect me not to be calm when you called?” 
“I was hoping you’d be in some caveman-ish jealous fit of rage. I had the boys on standby to make sure you didn’t tear the college down.” 
You blinked in confusion. 
“Are you George?” Quinn asked, frowning at his youngest brother’s grinning face.
“No, Quinn, my name is Luke.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a little shit.” 
“What the hell, Luke?” You asked, sighing deeply at whatever your best friend was about to say. You already knew whatever the reason was—most likely encouraged by Jack, again—was going to be too much for your brain to handle this early in the morning. 
“What? I told you I was testing him!” Luke said, like it was the only defence he needed. “The note was hidden in the flowers to make sure he would go looking for it! I wanted to make sure he was putting in the effort with you, if he actually cared about the weird flower thing or if he would just pretend like it was fine.” 
You blinked. “You’re insane,” you said eventually, pausing for a short moment before you continued. “And it’s not a weird flower thing.” 
“I’m going to kill you when I next see you,” Quinn said, glaring at his little brother who looked far too smug for his own good. “And I’m going to shove these roses so far—”
“Talk to you later, bye!” 
You sighed, shaking your head as you let out a breathless laugh. You turned your head, finding Quinn still frowning and glowering, and gently turned his face so you could kiss him. “He’ll get tired of these tests eventually.” 
“Will he though?” Quinn muttered against your lips, his nose brushing against yours. “I swear his next test will be to tattoo your name across my forehead.”
You snorted. “If you do that, I’m breaking up with you.”
“That’s rude,” he mused and, for the first time since he woke up, a hint of a smile was tugging on his lips. “What if I do it on my own accord? Maybe I just want to prove my love for you, baby.”
“I like your pretty face. I’d rather not be staring at my own name whenever I look at it,” you retorted, watching as a full smile spread across his face as he leaned down to kiss you again. 
“Cute,” he murmured before he pulled back completely, a determined glint in his eyes that you knew well. “C’mon, get ready.” 
Your brows furrowed. “What? Where are we going?”
“To burn those flowers and then grab breakfast,” he answered simply.
“Quinn—”
“I refuse to look at them any longer, babe, they are atrocious.”
“You’re so dramatic.” 
“It’s a Hughes thing.”
.
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mydearzero · 8 months
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Livid | mean!Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Annoying Spencer, just to see him get mad, was one of your favourite ways to pass time at the BAU. Emily had warned you not too push him too far. You hadn't realised how right she was until Spencer decides he's had enough and takes you down to the basement.
Contents: DUB-CON, NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, mean!Spencer, no aftercare,, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie (is it even a mydearzero original if there's no coming inside?), spanking, dacryphilia, impact play, choking, spit, degradation, humiliation, semi-public sex, punishment, name calling, sir kink, filming and taking pictures without permission, orgasm denial, If I missed any warnings please tell me!
5K words
this one's a doozy folks. buckle up. it's pure porn - nik
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You weren't doing it on purpose at first. It just so happened that you occasionally did things that got under Spencer's skin. You gradually realized which actions ticked him off and started doing them more and more. You just enjoyed seeing him annoyed, huffing and puffing, yet never saying anything. His patience seemed neverending.
Emily had warned you not to push him too far. According to her, when Spencer snapped, he exploded. 
Yeah, right. 
Her discouragement only egged you on. You'd hardly ever seen the genius even get mad. Spencer got irritated at best. He was an angel, really. 
So you continued pushing, taking every possible chance to get on his last nerve. It had turned from enjoying seeing him annoyed to wanting to see him furious. You'd seen Spencer snarl at a snobby police officer once. Hell, you'd even seen him snap at an UnSub. But you'd never seen him absolutely livid. 
It took you a while to figure out why you wanted to see him get mad. 
You thought back to that case, the one that had him yelling at the UnSub. You couldn't even remember the details of the case. All you could think about was Spencer's hands gripping the table as he leaned across it, getting close and personal with the UnSub. 
You cared about the veins straining against the surface of his skin, the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. The only lasting memory you had of the case was the tone of his voice and what it did to your body. 
A part of you wanted to be on the other side of that table, and it scared you how that part was growing exponentially, especially after Emily's warning. 
You didn't want to admit it, not even to yourself. But the sole reason you continued messing with Spencer was the age-old 'teasing your crush to get their attention' stint, and you hadn't even realized it. 
You shouldn't have been having all these deep thoughts and desires while sitting at your desk on a random Tuesday afternoon. Yet here you were. 
You tried to read the lines on the page in front of you repeatedly but to no avail. Your face sunk into your hands as you groaned inwardly. You had to stop this juvenile behaviour at this second. He was going to catch on. You were certain somebody already must've done the math. 
It shouldn't have surprised you when Spencer did finally burst. It wasn't like you did anything out of the usual. He wasn't even being tormented by a gruelling case. He'd just had enough. 
"God! You think you're so cute, don't you?" Spencer exclaimed, slamming the mouse you'd taped over on the table. The silence from before and after his outburst differed immensely. It was calm and serene before it turned tense and awkward. 
You slowly turned to look at his desk, not meeting his eye. If you had, you would've seen the way his pupils dilated at your meek behaviour. The way he had to regain his composure. 
Your heart rate skyrocketed, feeling caught. You knew reading minds wasn't a thing, but profiling sure was one of the things closest to it in this world. Spencer couldn't have known what you were thinking only seconds prior to him finding your latest childish attempt to invoke his anger. But it felt like he knew. 
Spencer scoffed as you chewed on your bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so funny anymore. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" 
You gaped as you made eye contact with an overly amused Derek. He was enjoying this show to its fullest extent. "Don't look at me, kid. We warned you." He shrugged. 
You turned your eyes back to a still-aggravated Spencer. He pushed himself away from his desk and got out of his chair. He brushed his hands over his jacket, still sending daggers your way. 
Your gaze followed him hesitantly as he stalked over to your desk. You scrambled to arrange things as if your messy workspace would only annoy him more. 
"Get up." He demanded. You raised your eyebrows in question. Was he serious? 
"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Emily teased in a sing-songy tone. Not helping, Prentiss. 
"You're messing with me, right? Because of all the stupid pranks?" You asked sceptically. Your voice was wavering and uncertain. 
"No, I'm being dead serious. Get up. Follow me." Spencer made an upwards motion with his fingers as he loomed over your seated figure. 
You slowly pushed your chair out and sent questioning glances to JJ, who only shrugged. Your legs were unsteady as you stood. Spencer was your coworker, your friend. So why was your heart beating in your throat as if you were about to be sent to the fifth circle of Dante's Inferno? 
Spencer didn't say another word as his long legs stalked out of the bullpen, uncaring that you were struggling to keep up. You nearly tripped over your feet several times before reaching the elevator. You stood beside a seething Spencer, who turned to push the 'B' button. 
The basement? What business did he, or you, for that matter, have in the basement? Nobody ever- Right. Nevermind.
Nobody ever set foot in the basement. 
You twiddled with your fingers in anticipation, hearing Spencer breathe in an unnatural pattern. The floors passed by quickly, and before you knew it, you were met with the sight of the metal doors sliding open into darkness. 
Spencer flicked the light switch. Harsh, industrial, white light filled the dusty room. It was smaller than you expected. The rows of file cabinets made it look smaller than it really was. A desk was situated in the middle, seemingly abandoned. 
You shuddered a breath as you stepped into the room, feeling exposed even when you knew nobody could see or hear you down here. Your shoes seemed outrageously interesting, your eyes never leaving them as you awaited Spencer with bated breath. 
"Look at me." His words filled the silence. The room had an eerie lack of echo, his voice sounding closer than it actually was. 
You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze. He appeared taller like this, especially when you were already feeling small, hunching in on yourself. 
"I'm going to give you one chance to apologize for your downright appaling behaviour." Spencer crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. You felt as if you were being scolded by a teacher for throwing a crayon at another student. 
"Why the condescending tone, Reid? We're all coworkers here." You questioned defensively, mirroring his stance by crossing your arms. 
"That doesn't sound like an apology to me, but I'll bite. We are definitely coworkers. But you know as well as I that you changed that dynamic when you decided to start acting like a spoilt little girl begging for my attention." His composure didn't change as he spoke the incriminating words.
You didn't know what you expected coming down here with him, but this certainly wasn't it. You felt something simmer at his words, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You searched his face for any emotion, but only found a look that said "Well?" 
When he noticed you weren't going to answer, he laughed. It wasn't a hearty chuckle. There was an underlying tone of sarcasm and ridicule to it. 
"You've been at this for months, and now you're not even going to attempt to say sorry? I expected a shitty excuse, sure, but an apology nonetheless." Spencer scoffed. 
You knew he was holding back. You could see it in the way he turned his head and closed his eyes before facing you again. You damned your profiling skills for giving you a foresight of what he had in store for you. You'd seen nothing of his wrath yet. 
You knew he was getting frustrated at your silence, but you couldn't find the words. Nothing you could say could make this any better for you. You ran all the possible outcomes in your head, but every thought was more incriminating than the previous one. 
"Fine." He clapped his hands together, stepping away from the desk. He motioned towards it, signalling you to take timid steps towards the piece of furniture. You looked at him questioningly. 
His eyebrows raised. The words "You know what to do" went unspoken. 
You swallowed as your mouth went dry. You looked at the desk, before looking at Spencer again. He didn't have to say anything. He wanted you to do it yourself. You closed your eyes as you leaned your palms against the unkept wood. You slowly brought your elbows down, leaning on them uncertainly. If this wasn't his intention, you'd just embarrassed yourself into the next century. 
You heard him breathe deeply as he walked behind you. You jerked as his hand ran up your back until it reached between your shoulder blades. He pushed hard enough to press your chest flush with the desk, turning your head to lie it on the surface. His hand stayed there as the other was placed on your hip. 
Spencer let out a content sigh. "Better." 
He stepped away, leaving a cold feeling behind. You didn't dare move, already mortified at your predicament. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible as if any noise you made could set him off. You tried to hear what he was doing, unable to see him clearly in your peripheral. 
Your head raised off the desk at lightning speed when you heard the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter. 
"Did I say you could move?" Spencer asked. You shook your head, quickly placing it back on the desk. For a second, you wondered why you were even listening to him. He had no authority over you. But it felt exhilarating to give it to him. 
"You speak when I ask you a question. No shaking your head, understood?" His voice came from in front of the desk. How hadn't you noticed him walking around it? 
"Yes, sir," You squeaked, doing as he asked. Sir? Really? 
"Good girl." 
The words flipped a switch inside you. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, seemingly having to wait an eternity for him to take the next step. You heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling. You found yourself crossing your legs at the implication. Surely he wasn't going to whip you? 
You thought you were going to get scolded for the action, but Spencer ignored it. He reached for your wrists, lying awkwardly beside your head. You didn't dare make eye contact. 
You were confused at his next action until you saw the hole near the back of the desk, meant for cables. He threaded the belt through it before bringing your wrists to it and tying them together. The positioning was awkward at best, but you were starting to feel like that's what he wanted, to embarrass you. 
You gave the makeshift handcuffs an experimental tug. They didn't budge, of course. Panic simmered in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling settling at the thought that you were stuck. There was nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to run from Spencer's revenge. 
He ran a hand through your hair, softly shushing you like you were a child. His hand slowly slid down your back. Your breath stuttered at his deliberate pace. He was taking his sweet time. 
"Shhh... You're fine." He whispered, putting a foot between yours and kicking them open. You grunted at the action just as he was hooking his fingers into your bottoms and taking your underwear clean off with them. He lifted one of your feet, only bothering to untangle one foot and leaving your clothes pooled at your other ankle. 
His fingers trailed up the inside of your leg. The tips of his fingers finally found the spot where you needed them most, but Spencer didn't do much besides feel you up. 
"You're so fucking wet it's pathetic." He mumbled as he wiped his fingers on your thigh. 
"You can pretend that you're tough and grown up all you want, but this is what you are. A pathetic little whore begging for my attention." Spencer walked around the desk and grabbed your chin harshly. The look in his eyes could only be described as animalistic. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. 
You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. But he did no such thing. 
"Open your mouth." He demanded, squishing your cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. You obeyed, but it wasn't good enough for him.
"You can do better than that, c'mon." He urged, putting his thumb in your mouth and pushing your head back. He removed his hand and observed you lying there with your mouth open. He seemed pleased at the sight, humming in approval. 
His hand made its way back to your chin, turning your face upwards, craning your neck uncomfortably. You hadn't registered what he'd done until you felt a warm glob hit your tongue. Had he just spit in your mouth? You looked at him aghast. 
"Wipe that shocked look off your face and swallow it if you know what's good for you." He patted your cheek mockingly. You closed your mouth and swallowed his spit, not trying to think too much about the fact that known germaphobe Spencer Reid had just spit. in. your. fucking. mouth. 
"That's what I thought." He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You thought he was going to take it off, maybe leaving it on your arms, seeing as they were currently tied to the desk, but he did no such thing. He brought the hem over your eyes, effectively blindfolding you with your shirt. 
You couldn't imagine what you must've looked like. Legs spread, bottoms haphazardly pulled down, shirt over your eyes, hands tied, pussy dripping. Your heart sank as you heard Spencer take another picture. 
"You look so good like this, exactly how you're supposed to be," Spencer spoke with a misconstrued sense of pride. 
You flinched and yelped when he abruptly struck your behind with a flat hand. You'd expected this was coming, that he was going to punish you, but you hadn't heard him approach. He rubbed his hand over the sore spot he'd just hit. 
"You're going to count them for me, and you're going to apologize after every single one. You better mean it because if I feel you're being insincere, you're only gonna get more until I believe you." Spencer set the rules, resting his left hand on your hip. You waited for him to begin, but another strike didn't come. 
"This is the time where you say 'Yes, sir' like you did earlier. I must admit, I didn't expect that one. But I like it, so we're keeping it," he mocked. 
"-Yes, sir," you stammered. Another hum of approval met your ears as he repositioned himself for the optimal angle. 
He didn't hold back as the second slap hit your butt. It stung more than you'd expected, a burning sensation spreading fast. 
"Two. I'm sorry, Spencer." You apologized, putting as much sincerity behind the words as you could muster. 
"No, that was one. The first one was just a warning. And you don't deserve to call me Spencer right now. You'll need to earn that privilege back. You'll learn to respect me soon enough. Now, start over." 
His hand came back down once more.
"One! I'm sorry, sir," you hissed at the pain. 
"What are you sorry for, princess?" Spencer asked as he delivered another smack. 
"Two! I'm sorry for disrespecting you!" You no longer had the energy to keep your head up, giving up the attempt to look at him and resting it back on the desk. 
"And?" He questioned. Another strike. 
"Three! I'm sorry for embarrassing you and pulling stupid pranks." You admitted.
"I don't buy it," Spencer contemplated. 
"Please, sir! I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for being so childish." You apologized. A strike harder than the previous ones landed on your behind. 
"You don't speak out of turn, do you understand?" Spencer gripped your hair and pulled your head up to spit the words straight into your ear. You nodded wildly, as much as his grip on your hair through the shirt would allow. 
"Yes, yes, I understand." You said. Spencer let go of your hair. You only had milliseconds to respond, preventing your head from hitting the wood. He returned to his previous position, not wasting any time before landing several strikes to your ass.
This continued for a while, him smacking, you counting and begging for his forgiveness. Your legs were shaking by the time he reached the twentieth hit. 
"Twenty... I really am sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pushed you." You sighed, feeling Spencer rub circles over the impacted flesh. 
"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. 
"Yes, I won't do it again. I'm sorry." You didn't remember how many times the words 'I'm' and 'sorry' had rolled off your tongue that afternoon, but it must've been dozens. 
"Good. Now, for good measure, one last time." There was an underlying tone to the threat you couldn't place. You didn't have to wonder long, the last strike landing directly on your pussy. 
"Shit! Oh my god," you cursed, attempting to shut your legs. Spencer's feet kept them from moving. He'd anticipated the reaction. You were glad for the echoless chamber, the humiliatingly wet sound only reverberating slightly. 
"Now I can really be sure you'll remember." You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much. But then again, hadn't you been the exact same? Gaining joy from inconveniencing him? You sighed at the realization you couldn't judge him for getting off on this. The last smack certainly hadn't been a dry one. 
"Now..." Spencer trailed off. He removed the shirt from your eyes, pushing it further over your head. He pushed the fabric into your mouth as a makeshift gag. 
"Don't you make any noise, okay? I mean, not like anybody will hear you down here." He chuckled. You turned your head and your eyes widened as you saw him walk towards the elevator. He pushed the call button and turned back to catch one last glimpse at you. He snapped a quick picture of your reddened ass cheeks before stepping into the elevator. 
You yelled his name through the gag, nothing but gurgling, obstructed pleas meeting his ears. He wasn't leaving, right? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He was just testing you. 
You were left with the sound of your own pants and racing heart. You tugged at your binds once more. What if he left? Went home? Surely it was past the regular office hours by now. 
Tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of being left here like this overnight. What if nobody came down here? What if somebody did come down here and saw you like this? You were conflicted. 
After 10 minutes of silent contemplation and several escape attempts, the metallic creaking of the elevator coming down sounded through the basement. You clenched your eyes shut, begging the universe it was Spencer and nobody else. 
You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the familiar sound of Spencer's shoes hitting the linoleum floor. You watched as he sipped his newly acquired coffee, not acknowledging you, only looking at his phone. After presumably sending a couple of texts, he shut it off and put it away on top of one of the cabinets nearby.
He smiled at the sight of the fresh tears rolling down your face. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Dacryphilia?" He asked as he crouched down to your level and wiped a few stray tears from your chin. He removed the gag from your mouth. 
You shook your head before correcting yourself. "No, sir." 
"It's a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing," Spencer explained. Leave it up to Spencer to dive into an explanation at a moment like this. 
"I never thought I was someone who could be turned on by that. But seeing you like this, I can definitely see the appeal." His words were quiet, but so was the room. 
"You look so pretty when you cry for me." He praised, running a hand through your hair. It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment, given the circumstances. He got up from his crouched position before you. You looked up at him. The domineering gaze he gave back told you all you needed to know.  
"Thank you, sir," you whispered, hoping it was the correct response. 
"See? It's not that hard to be respectful. But I'm not done with you yet."  
Your breathing picked up as you remembered your predicament. Spencer didn't waste any time, pushing his pants down. His cock was long and thick. 
You thought he was going to make you suck it. He pushed it in your mouth harshly, not giving you any room to breathe. He held you there, choking on his cock by the back of your head for a few more seconds before pulling it out and slapping it on your cheek. He smiled wickedly before tucking it back in his pants. It had only been a taste, literally. 
He saw your confused look, but ignored it, opting to walk back around the desk. He wasted no time, pushing two fingers inside your mortifyingly wet hole. He curled them exactly right, and you clenched your fist and eyes to stop your legs from giving out. 
Just as you'd started moving your hips along with his hand, he pulled away. "Stay still. Or you don't get anything." 
You willed your entire body to remain frozen as he resumed his activities. He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing at the exact speed and pressure to make your knees buckle. You had to put all your weight on your upper body to stop moving. 
"God, will you shut up?" Spencer groaned. You hadn't even noticed you were making any noise, the moans and whines falling from your lips sounding foreign. 
You bit your lip to keep them from escaping, but it was hard when Spencer was unrelenting. You felt yourself coming close, soft, high-pitched whines escaping your throat no matter how hard you tried to contain them.  
Your toes curled, and your muscles tightened, but Spencer pulled away. More tears welled up in your eyes at the immensely unsatisfying sensation. You wanted to beg him to please continue and let you finish. But he'd told you to shut up, and you really weren't looking to prolong your punishment. 
You heard your own pathetic sobs, drowning out the sound of him undoing his pants again. Your chest heaved as you tried to stay silent. Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the tears. 
It was bizarre how quiet he stayed. He was usually so talkative. But the implication that you didn't deserve him speaking to you unless it was an order was clear. 
"This is all you're good for. A hole for me to fuck. And don't you dare forget it." Spencer lined himself up and didn't offer any more preparation before sliding inside. 
"You're just a deplorable, woeful, pitifully sad little girl." Spencer spat as his grip on your hair returned. His other hand snuck around your neck, gripping tightly. He used the grip on your hair and neck as leverage to set a brutal pace, calling you every synonym for pathetic available. 
"You think you're so important? Good enough to be pulling shit like this? You need to learn your. fucking. place." Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust. "You're expendable at best." 
You didn't dare speak, the only thing leaving you was quiet sobs, whines and moans. Your breathing was strained against the hold he had on your neck. 
You were embarrassed to feel the knot in your stomach tightening worryingly fast. Spencer was treating you like a whore, and you were getting off on it, faster than anything else ever had before. 
Spencer felt you tighten around him and quickly pulled out and stepped away. You felt the cold breeze on your empty hole. More tears spilt as you heard the sound of a video recording starting. 
Spencer zoomed in on your desperate, fluttering pussy, before pushing back inside, keeping the camera focused on his cock entering in and out. 
You tried to hide your face when he turned the camera to it, but his hand yanked on your hair, making you face the camera. 
"Say: 'I'm Spencer's little slut. His own personal hole to use whenever he pleases because I'm a cockwhore hungry for attention.'" Spencer demanded. 
"Please, sir. Don't make me say it on camera," you begged. You'd say it, just to get it over with, but the current footage he had was already incriminating enough. 
"No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. Say it." The pace of his hips never let up, your figure moving crudely in and out of the shot. 
"I-I'm Spencer's... Please," you began. Spencer's speed inside you increased, interrupting your train of thought. He delivered a harsh smack against your still sore ass, urging you to continue. 
"I'm Spencer's... little slut. His own personal... hole... to use whenever he pleases." You inhaled sharply before continuing. "Because I'm a... cockwhore... hungry for attention." You stuttered over the words, forcing them out. 
Spencer seemed satisfied, putting his phone away. His hand returned to your throat, cutting off the airflow as he fucked you harshly. Every thrust of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body. 
The wood was digging into your hips, sure to be beaten and bruised by tonight. Your weight was no longer being held up by your legs, Spencer's presence behind you being the only thing that kept you from collapsing. 
You were tight with desperation, every muscle wanting that sweet release he was depriving you of. 
Spencer grunted unintelligible curses against you as he pistoned inside. His thick cock felt like it was splitting you open with every thrust, no matter how wet you'd gotten. 
"Gonna cum inside you, and there's nothing you can do about it," Spencer mumbled as he sped up. How it was even possible, was beyond you. 
"Please, sir. Please let me cum." You whined. If he denied you one more time, you weren't sure if you could take it. 
"What makes you think you fucking deserve to cum? You're an annoying, good-for-nothing brat who's getting what was coming for her." He moaned against the shell of your ear. The sound ignited something new inside you. You needed to hear it again. 
"Please, Spencer. Please," you begged, more tears threatening to spill after you'd assumed you were all out. 
"What, you're gonna fucking cry? Like a fucking baby? Don't fucking do things if you're gonna fucking cry over the consequences, you fucking slut. And it's sir to you, you whore." You'd never heard Spencer this vulgar. And you could've never imagined what it would do to you. 
"You know what they call this, crybaby?" Spencer asked, tightening the grip on your throat, cutting off most if not all of the airflow. You shook your head aggressively. 
"Karma." He spoke, thrusting harshly to get the message across. The combination of the lack of air and his ruthless thrusts was brutal. You could feel yourself trembling, trying to keep yourself together. 
Spencer pushed his cock sharply one last time, twitching and releasing his spend inside you with a loud groan. He released your throat and pulled out. You fell forward, chest heaving with dry sobs. He hadn't let you come. You cried frustrated tears as Spencer took more photos, as expected. 
You felt the warm come drip from your pussy as Spencer took close-ups. A tense silence overtook the room as he made himself decent before paying you any attention. 
"Garcia still owed me a favour, so she disabled the elevator from coming down here unless you enter a code," Spencer explained as he untied you. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, even if the ordeal was already over. The fact that there had been no real threat settled the uneasy feeling, even if only a little. It was the only consolation he offered. Spencer redid his belt as if it hadn't just been used as handcuffs while he fucked you like you were his property to discard. 
You rubbed your wrists, seeing the red wells carved in them from your relentless tugging. How were you going to explain this when you came in tomorrow? 
Spencer didn't seem to care, simply grabbing his stuff and waiting for the elevator. You looked around for your underwear, only to see a small piece of fabric sticking out of his pocket. You sighed and put your bottoms back on without the underwear, cringing at the wet, sticky fluid still between your legs. Your top was still wet with saliva and tears. 
You got in the elevator with him without saying a word. You'd expected to at least talk to him about it, but as soon as you reached ground level, Spencer was gone. 
Your eyes welled up and cheeks heated when you realized you were going to have to walk through the lobby and go home alone, all without any underwear and while still dripping his cum. 
Spencer had gotten what he wanted. You were mortified. And you sure as hell weren't going to pull any more pranks anytime soon. 
Not while at the office, anyways. 
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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iii. you come around and the armor falls, pierce the room like a cannonball. now all we know is don’t let go. | luke castellan | state of grace
seventeen-year-old luke castellan returns from his failed quest and wonders if he's good enough for you.
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seventeen-year-old luke castellan came face-to-face with death but against his better judgment, and the medical advice from lee who told him to lay in bed and heal, he stood up to drag himself across the floors of the infirmary to sit beside the bed where you were unconscious. 
thankfully, you were going to be okay. it would just take a few hours for the medicine to kick in until you regain consciousness. it was luke who took the brunt of the attack. he can feel the sticky bandages covered in his blood across his back and his face. luke managed to prop himself up on the small wooden chair. 
he’d grown taller and bigger over the years and the chair was definitely not the most comfortable place for him, especially not with all his wounds, but he had to make do. he couldn’t stay on his bed, across the way from you while you slept alone. in the off chance that you’ll wake up before the 5-hour estimate they’d given him about the medicine, he didn’t want you to wake up without someone next to you. 
you weren’t even supposed to be there. he didn’t even know how you’d found him, but he should’ve known better when you looked at him with that look in your eye, the look that he got from you whenever you were about to save him from something, even if he didn’t know he’d be in trouble yet. you always seemed to show up just when he needed you– like his own personal guardian angel. 
he thought back to when he was fourteen and you let him tag along with you, oliver, and beth to the athena cabin because you noticed he was anxious to be left alone. you didn't even know what he'd gone through then, but you somehow knew exactly what to say, what to do.
he thought of his first full summer at camp. he'd just turned fifteen, before he was named head counselor, and he accidentally set the shed that the satyrs used to house their gardening tools on fire. the stolls managed to sneak in fireworks and the three of them thought the perfect welcome for the summer campers was a firework show. he wandered into the shed in search of a lighter and found one tucked underneath a tablecloth, probably left by one of the older campers when they smoked.
between him and his siblings, they shared one and a half brain cells so he, stupidly, tried the lighter while he peeked his head under the tablecloth and the whole thing erupted in flames before he could even react. thankfully, you were already out looking for him when you noticed he slipped away from dinner.
you helped him put the fire out before it got too bad and paid for the damage with the few drachmas you had saved up. luke managed to pay you back after picking up random tasks for campers for a small fee, although, you argued with him that it was okay, that he didn't owe you anything, but at that point, luke figured he owed you much more than just a few drachmas.
chiron and mr. d ended up loving the idea of the fireworks show and asked who was responsible for the festivities. you stood up and pointed at him, grinning like you were happy he was finally getting the recognition he deserved. he didn't think he deserved the credit, it would've ended in a shitshow if it weren't for you.
he was promoted to head counselor a week later.
luke fell asleep hunched over your sleeping body, sleeping on the side of his face without the fresh scar. he woke up to the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp a few hours later. he sat up, immediately holding your hand between his own. 
“you’re up,” he croaked out, rubbing the tears away from his eyes, “how are you, angel?” 
“feelin’ great, bub,” you faked a smile, exhaustion evident on your features. “how are you? you’re the one who got attacked by a dragon.” 
luke flinched at the memory, holding your hand up to his lips, “don’t worry about me. i’m good.” 
“let me worry about you, hm?” you mumbled. “i’m always worried about you.” 
“you shouldn’t have been there,” he sighed. his anger against his father was rising again. “it was my quest. you’re not even allowed to go on other people’s quests anymore, remember?” 
“you’re dumb if you think i was going to let you go into a suicide mission alone, luke,” you replied. you moved over on the small bed, motioning him to join you. “needed to make sure you were gonna be okay.” 
“i don't want that if it's at your expense,” he mumbled, following your request. you laid your head on his chest, allowing him to push you closer to him. his hands found the ends of your hair, twirling it around his fingers, “don’t know what i would’ve done if you–” 
he couldn’t finish his sentence. he didn’t want to think about it. he let himself be delusional, ignoring the reality of being a demigod. luke wanted to beat the odds with you, get out of here with you, mostly unscathed. he didn’t want to think about a life without you in it. he couldn’t. 
“hey, it’s okay,” you placed his hand over your heart, letting him feel it beat. “i’m okay, see?” 
your optimism was something luke admired about you. the way you viewed life like a gift despite everything you'd gone through. he wished he could see things the way you did, but he didn't understand it.
he looked at you, thinking of how you'd just risked your life for him, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling so hopeless. this was not the life you deserved.
he let out a breath, turning to face the ceiling, “i don’t understand how you’re not furious at the gods right now.” 
“there’s so many horrible things to be angry at, luke,” you whispered, placing a kiss on his bruised hands. “i’m mad at the gods for allowing this to happen to all of us, their children. i am angry luke, but i have been given so much because of it, too.” 
he stayed silent, letting you continue. he felt his breaths even out as he listened to the sound of your voice. 
“i grew up as an only child until i met my siblings. now, i love them. i can’t imagine not knowing them,” you smiled, “the rest of the campers, they can be a handful sometimes, but there isn’t a boring day in my life. there’s always adventure and fun and love.” 
luke turned to look at you to find that you were already staring at him. even in the dark, he can make out the look on your face. that face that made him feel safe so effortlessly. 
“i met you because of them,” you continued, placing a soft kiss on his lips, trying not to put too much pressure on him knowing he was still healing, “there are so many things i am angry at the gods for, but knowing you… well, it makes up for it, don’t you think?” 
he didn’t know if he had a complex enough vocabulary or if there were any words in any language that could scratch the surface of how he felt about you. you were in every part of him. he thought of you, your eyes when he woke up to the sun shining on his face, bright and hopeful because there was a new day ahead. he thought of you, your lips when he tasted the fruits they served during meals, sweet and addicting. he thought of you, your smile during his nightmares, safely pulling him back to reality, a life where you were there with him. 
it’s only been you since he met you. he had a feeling it’s only been you in every life he lived before this one. and it will only be you in every life after it. 
luke settled, “i love you.” 
“i love you,” you replied, kissing him once more. “let’s rest now, hm? want to be able to kiss you proper.” 
he couldn’t help but laugh, shutting his eyes as his body succumbed to the tiredness in his limbs, “me too.” 
lee fletcher found you two tangled in the covers, sleeping soundly, when he entered the infirmary the morning after. usually, he’d scold his patients for disobeying orders, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the rules right now, not when you and luke looked so peaceful sleeping beside each other. 
word about luke’s failed quest spread quickly after your return. the looks of pity were starting to get to luke. you noticed that he’d been distant, too, opting to not let you clean up his scars when he replaced the bandages. he only went in to see lee when he knew the infirmary was absolutely clear of people. he stopped letting you touch his face and run your hands down his back. at first, you chalked it up to the fact that he was healing and the wounds probably still hurt to the touch, but after a conversation with lee, where you slyly asked how luke’s healing process was going, you knew it wasn’t that anymore. 
lee let you know that the wounds were healing faster than anticipated. new tissue was replacing his damaged ones and that the cream he prescribed luke would ensure that the scars would be faint, noticeable, but not as intense as they could’ve been. you walked away from your conversation with the boy with your shoulders sagged and your smile a little less bright. there was something else going on with luke and he wasn’t telling you about it. 
when luke returned to the hermes cabin, tired from his three-hour-long training, he expected the cabin to be empty with all his siblings away at the campfire, but instead, he found you, tidying up around the area of his bed. he shut the door quietly, hoping to have a few moments where he could just admire you. 
he’d been avoiding you more than usual so he hadn’t gotten the chance to spend as much time with you as he’d liked to. he doesn’t remember the last time he hugged you longer than a quick side hug before he was jogging to move onto his next activity or the last time he’d been able to have a conversation with you about something other than counselor duties. luke missed you. he missed you a lot, but he felt so disgusted with himself that he couldn't bring himself to be in your presence. 
the scars were healing fine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d think he was hideous and weak and a failure. it seemed like everyone else at camp did, anyway. the scar on his face stretched from his eye all the way down to his jaw. every time he looked in the mirror, it reminded him of what he wasn’t able to do, of what he put you through. it made him sick to remember it. 
the wounds on his back started on his shoulder blades and ended in the middle of his spine. it wasn’t a good look. not even all his trainings and his workouts to get his back defined could hide the scar. 
his wounds were now the first thing people noticed when they saw him. he hated it. 
he wasn’t naive enough to believe that he was the most attractive guy in the world, but at least before the quest, he felt like he was average. he was tall enough, built adequately, and he wasn’t terrible to look at. but now, it felt like he was knocked down a few pegs. if he thought he didn’t deserve you back then, he sure as hell knew he didn’t deserve you now. 
he watched you fluff his pillows and fold his blankets before he decided to make himself known. he walked over to you, placing a quick kiss on the back of your head, before walking to his dresser to pull out his clothes for bed. 
“been waiting for you,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his torso. you gently placed your head on his back, listening to the sound of his breaths pick up. “where have you been?” 
“training,” he replied, removing your arms from him. you placed your head so close to his wounds and he was sure you could feel the bumps of his flesh through his thin camp shirt. “why aren’t you at the campfire?” 
you frowned, sitting on his bed, “because you weren’t there.” 
“you can still go and hang out with your friends,” he reasoned, directing his head at an awkward angle so you don’t see the scarred side of his face. the bandage on his face fell off a few hours ago. he forgot to stop by the infirmary to ask lee for some more.
“don’t wanna hang out with them right now, luke,” you said, eyebrows furrowed. “i want to hang out with you.” 
“i’m really tired right now, angel,” luke turned around again, pretending to dig through his drawers for something. he tilted his head low, hoping that his shadow would hide his face. “maybe tomorrow or something?” 
“okay,” you sounded defeated. luke heard his sheets ruffle from under you as you got up. he followed the sound of your footsteps all the way to the door. he waited for the sound of the door to open, but it never came. instead, it was your voice, hushed, “luke, i don’t understand.” 
he lifted his head, “huh?” 
“i said i don’t understand,” your voice was trembling. luke couldn’t help but face you then. your eyes welled up with tears, bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak. “what’s going on with you?” 
luke clenched his jaw, “nothing.” 
“there’s something going on,” you rebutted, walking closer to him. you stopped in your tracks as he took a step back. you let the tears fall, “i can usually sense what’s going on with people but with you right now, i just can’t. i-it’s like i’m so blinded by how i feel about you that instead of understanding what’s going on with you, i can only focus on what i could’ve done wrong.” 
“you haven’t done anything wrong,” luke licked his lips, wanting nothing else but to hold you in his arms. he was fighting back the tears now, too. the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. he sniffled, “i’m just tired, angel.” 
“that’s never stopped you before,” you said. “even before we were dating, you always found me just for the sake of being with me. we'd talk nonsense until we lost our voices, and then we'd sit in silence together. you used to sit and wait in the back of the art room until my lesson was over just so we could come back here and be together until it was lights out.” 
“that was then.” 
“what changed?” you asked, voice hoarse. your tears were unstoppable now. you rubbed your eyes, trying to get a clearer vision of the boy in front of you. he was hidden in the shadows of the dim light. “do you.. do you not feel the same about me anymore?” 
“no, never that,” he shook his head, eyes wide. he tossed his clothes on his bed, stepping closer to you. “i love you, you know this.” 
“so come back to me, luke,” you cried, taking a tiny step closer to him. “come home to me.” 
luke groaned, falling to his knees. he buried his face in his hands, sobbing at your words. you ran to him, engulfing him in a hug, as his sobs shook his entire body. he mumbled incoherent words into his palms. 
“what is it, luke?” you asked him, peppering kisses on the crown of his head.
he took a deep breath, “i’m not ready for you to realize that i’m not good enough for you anymore. i’m not ready to lose you.” 
“oh my love,” you sighed, prying his hands away from his face. he turned his cheek, biting his bottom lip. you weren’t having it anymore. you grabbed his face in your hands forcing him to look at you, “what’s gotten into you?” 
“i know you see it,” he said, voice cracking. his eyes were focused on the wall behind you. “the scar. i know you see it.” 
“and?”
“it’s hideous, angel,” he confessed. a single tear rolled down his cheek. you were quick to wipe it away, “i know what people say about me now.” 
“is this what all of this was about?” you questioned, pressing your forehead to his.
luke closed his eyes. he missed you so much. “yes.” 
you removed your hands from his face and let your index finger trace the line down his scar. he sucked in a breath despite himself. he wanted to hide and shy away from you, your touch left him vulnerable and open, but he knew there was no need for that anymore. you pressed soft kisses all over his face, cradling his jaw in your palm. you kissed the lids of his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows, the points of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, until you got to his scar. 
you were even gentler now, luke didn’t know how it was possible. he could feel your lips ghosting over the raised flesh, apprehensive. he squeezed the skin of your hip, giving you the okay. with that, your lips touched his cheek, a kiss with purpose. 
luke shuddered at the feeling. why did he deprive himself of this? from the love in your touch and the emotions behind your actions? he pulled you closer, trying to make up for lost time. 
you sighed happily in his grasp, pulling yourself away from his cheek to place a kiss on his lips. all the air was knocked out of luke’s lungs. he’d kissed you a million times before, but this felt different. luke knew you loved him, you said it more than he deserved to hear it, and of course, he felt your love in everything that you did with him; in stolen touches in the middle of crowds, in corny jokes you made just to see him smile, in your words when you tell him he’s more than enough, but in this kiss, it was all of those moments, all of what you felt for him, amplified.
he couldn’t breathe. it was too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you, not when you were kissing him like this. not when you were anchoring him back to where he belonged. not when you were reminding him of everything he could have if he just let himself have it. 
eventually, you pulled away from him, tear-stained cheeks and pink, raw lips. luke thought you looked incredible. even after all this time, over a year of being together and over three years of knowing each other, your cheeks still flushed because of him. a small smile made its way to his lips, you still had that effect on him too. 
you got up from the floor, offering your hand to luke. he gladly accepted it and allowed you to lead him to his bed. you slipped off your shoes, your signature cartoon owl socks on full display as you laid on his bed. he joined you, pulling you close to his chest. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, fingers playing with the string of his camp necklace. 
the campfire was coming to an end and soon the cabin would be filled with his loud, rowdy, siblings, who he grew to love, but for now, he’ll get lost in this moment with you. he’ll wander aimlessly in this feeling, the feeling of his girl asleep on his chest, a hand over his heart to remind him that she's still here. he’ll let himself get lost for a few more minutes, after all, he’ll always find his way back home to you. 
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catadromously · 5 months
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in all seriousness though I do believe there is something so deeply resonant about those early glitch pokemon. I recently learned how their graphics and names work, and I'm left with an empathy and awe toward them that I've never felt toward any of the on-purpose parts of these games. I don't even play pokemon. but just...
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this is ▒▒’M ▒▒. she looks like that because all the identifiers that register her in the game's memory are scrambled. she has no appearance drawn up for her, instead the memory address pointer of her image loader scans some random functional code and does its best to interpret those bits as an image. she has no name listed, so she just reads it off whatever is in the video RAM. the first two characters change depending on where you are when you look at her. the 'M is sampled by chance from the game's stored alphabet (which is held in RAM too). the last two are tiles from her own sprite.
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look at this creature and her contingent, recursive, made-up identity. there are flourishing communities dedicated to learning how she works like an arcane art. she was never supposed to exist. she is lovely.
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harrowharkwife · 4 months
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i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.
they're his.
palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.
and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.
but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.
they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.
the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)
palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.
(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)
(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)
remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.
in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.
the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.
we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."
they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.
but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.
palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.
harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.
nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.
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