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#GIF TW
voidpetrova · 6 months
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pretty boy — stiles stilinski x reader
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☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, tit play, unprotected p in v sex, virgin!sub!stiles x experienced!dom!reader — smut
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: the closest thing he had come to having sex was with his fist, until he confessed to you, that is
✧.*
in a dimly lit motel room, the buzzing neon sign outside cast intermittent flashes of light across the peeling wallpaper. the air was thick with tension as stiles stilinski, the epitome of social awkwardness and love-deprivation, sat on one of the twin beds, fumbling with his phone. scott had left to chase after allison, leaving stiles alone with his thoughts and an abundance of uncomfortable silence. just as he contemplated diving into another episode of his favorite tv show to escape the loneliness, there was a soft knock on the door. with a puzzled expression, he pulled it open, revealing you—bold, snarky, and an undeniable knockout. you sauntered in, a sly grin playing on your lips, and in your hand, a six-pack of beer.
“hey there, loser,” you greeted, taking in the melancholic atmosphere. “looks like we've got a room all to ourselves tonight. mind if i join the pity party?” stiles' eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “uh, sure, come on in,” he stammered, hastily clearing a space on the other bed for you.
you cracked open a beer, handing one to stiles, and settled in comfortably. “so, what's got you wallowing in self-pity?” you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity. stiles took a sip of his beer and sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i've been doing some thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “how is it that i've never gotten laid?”
you observed him for a moment, your sharp wit temporarily softened by empathy. “stiles, being in a relationship isn't the be-all and end-all of life,” you said, your voice reassuring. “besides, you're unique in your own quirky way. maybe you just haven't found the right person yet.” he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and insecurity. “you think so?”
“absolutely,” you affirmed, leaning in a bit closer. “you're a good guy, stiles. you deserve someone who appreciates your quirks and cares about you for who you are.” as the night wore on and the beer cans dwindled, a connection grew between you two. stiles, usually tongue-tied and nervous around others, found himself opening up to you like he never had before. your witty banter and genuine interest put him at ease, making him forget his insecurities.
and then, in the quiet of that dingy motel room, stiles found the courage to confess his feelings. “you know, i've had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing your lips. “oh, really? i had no idea,” you teased.
stiles chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. “yeah, well, i guess it's hard not to when you're so—amazing.” you leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “you know, stiles,” you whispered, “i've had my eye on you too.”
in that small, dimly lit motel room, something shifted between you and stiles. two people, seemingly different in every way, found a connection that transcended their differences. as the night deepened, you and stiles shared more than just beer; you shared stories, dreams, and a newfound closeness that neither of you had expected. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection that would change the course of their lives, igniting a spark of something beautiful amidst the chaos of teenagehood. and as the neon sign outside flickered on and off, it seemed to mirror the uncertainty and excitement of the journey that lay ahead for stiles and the you.
“so,” you began, discarding the empty can of liquid gold as you spoke. you met his gaze, his nervous, shaky gaze with a hint of something unexplainable in your own. whatever it was, it drew him to you. just as much as his nervousness drew you to him. “never been laid, huh?”
the question had him taken aback, leaving him with an almost offended expression as he scoffed. “you almost sound surprised.” he inquired with a, yet again nervous, chuckle. you shrugged, taking the opportunity to sit next to him on the ragged, uncomfortable sheets. “you're a pretty boy, sti, you could say i'm surprised, sure.” he didn't know which part got to him first—perhaps it was the way your tone shifted from playful to seductive in a matter of seconds, or maybe it was the way your siren-like eyes held his shy gaze with an immense need to ruin him. before everything else, he was absolutely sure it was your words that had gotten to him first. pretty boy. yes, the way his jeans tightened only confirmed his lingering thoughts.
“you think i'm pretty?” it almost sounded like a statement, rather than your typical question. you smiled rather gently, fingertips slowly creeping up on him, brushing his hair softly, trailing down his clothed chest, gracefully caressing his bulge through his jeans. “so pretty.” you affirmed.
stiles didn't know how to kiss, he didn't have as much experience as you did. he lacked the experience and tact you had, but not the passion. not the passion, not with you guiding him every step of the way ever so gently. your hands cupped his cheeks, tracing his jawline as you coaxed him into the kiss, allowing him to take baby steps into relaxing and finally melting into it. once he did, you found your tongue sliding into his mouth, intertwining with his as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking gently. you heard him gasp, and it was adorable. he was like putty under your touch.
“you sure you wanna do this?” the question came out almost as soon as the kiss was broken, leaving him panting with a painful ache in his cock. he nodded, almost too eagerly, puppy eyes desperate to experience this more than ever. you littered kitten licks and kisses down his neck, relishing in the way he shivered at the sensation. you had successfully gotten rid of his shirt, feeling how he only grew more and more eager to get on with it. before you could go any further, you found yourself pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his lap.
he watched in awe from below as you peeled your top off, pulling it off your head, leaving you in a stunning black bra. his eyes admired the curve of your tits, the way the bra squished them together, the recoil incoming with every move you made. “c'mere, baby, don't be shy.” you cooed, encouraging stiles to do more than just stare. it was just what he needed to hear. though inexperienced, he allowed himself to do what he felt was right—peeling your bra off, soft moans of pleasure leaving his mouth as he allowed him to fondle and grope your fatty tits, sucking on them and toying with them in a way that made both of you moan. he had his face buried into the valley of your boobs, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as you pulled at his dark hair. he looked up at you, with an utterly innocent, horny gaze, saliva dripping down his chin as you watched him rut against the mattress, desperate for some kind of soothing friction. it made you all the more ready to ruin him.
“please, (y/n),” you had him begging for you to help him out, just a little bit. while you helped him remove his jeans, you couldn't ignore the way his moans got you worked up and wet. “gotta fuck you, please, please, please.” it was a string of incoherent pleading and whining, he was even more worked up than you were. he had no other way to act, what, with your tongue dragging alongside his clothed dick, teasing and taunting the wet spot on his boxers. you nuzzled your nose against him, tongue tracing his balls as you listened to the way he meweled, beads of sweat dropping down his temple.
that night, the first thing you found out about stiles was that he was sensitive. extremely sensitive. the second thing? he was hung. the sight of his bare dick made your eyes widen, the same way the feeling of the cool air hitting his hot, angry, hard cock made him hiss. unbeknownst to you, he had been carrying a, vaguely-spoken, above-average size this entire time. it wasn't something he chose to brag about—what would the context be? certainly not how he jacked off to photos of you every night, to polaroids he had taken of you on the beach or the mere thought of you in the position you were currently in. no, surprising you like this was much better.
“big boy, aren't you, sti?” the way you cooed, as if talking to a toddler, made his cock throb. he whined in response, breath hitching in his throat as you used your thumb to smear his dripping precum all over his cock, lubricating it with the thin layer of arousal. “you're gonna make a mess of me.” he hadn't planned on it until now.
he truly didn't know what to expect fron sex up until now. sure, he's heard stories from friends thay included scott and danny, he's heard the standard it set compared to using a hand to get off. however, feeling it for the first time—it was absolutely incomparable. it was another realm of euphoria, feeling his throbbing, aching cock slip into your wet, tight heat. you didn't have to prep yourself or anything, his long, hard dick gliding into the tight ring of muscle without a care in the world. he felt you flutter around him, the sensation better and tighter than when he uaually jacked off. his jaw slacked, eyelashes fluttering as a moan got caught in his throat. he knew he wasn't gonna last long.
“too fuck—fucking tight, jesus, shit—” none of his words were easy to make out, each one coming out slower than the last as you allowed yourself to bounce on his dick, hands pressed to his chest as his cock slid in and out of you. your tits were pressed to his face, and you couldn't help but moan lowly, the thin motel walls offering you little to no support. “so big, stiles,” you gasped out. you were full, fuller than you've ever been or felt up until now. his thick tip was pressing against your cervix, kissing it as he fucked you. “shit, too fucking big, sti.”
he loved it, loved knowing how good he made you feel. he used it to his advantage, repeating things he had only seen in pornos—rubbing your clit, fondling your tits, and grabbing onto your hips, grinding you down onto his dick as he fucked himself into you. he knew he was close, especially fast for his first time, especially fast for your third time. “i—i can't,” he forewarned, and he couldn't.
when he came, his mind went absolutely blank. he came hard, with a loud moan that had come off as unexpected for both of you. he came long and hard, harder than ever before, shooting all of his cum into your cunt, your pussy milking his cock completely, sucking every last drop out. his vision was blurry for a few seconds, and his mouth dry, the inability to form sentences overpowering him. if there was one thing you were good at, it was fucking.
and boy, were you a fucking good one.
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lokihiddleston · 1 year
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THE WITCHER Geralt of Rivia
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braedenhales · 4 months
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TAG YOURSELF: STILES STILINSKI ALIGNMENT CHART
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rolling-harbinger · 2 years
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Bro, this poor kid is so obviously physically abused.
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He literally would’ve gotten cut here if he didn’t move his head to the side. And even then, it still barely cut a bit of his hair.
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From this scene I have a feeling that Hunter has dealt with Belos’s cursed form head on before, from the way he looks away as if afraid.
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Or how here he just tenses up and closes his eyes, expecting to get hit, as if getting hit is a normal punishment for him.
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Look at the way he flinches and tenses up, when all Belos did was snatch the key. It’s like he was expecting Belos to hurt him.
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The way he flinches when Belos flicks his hair. Like he expects a hit.
And then there are things Hunter says that tells us he is abused.
“The emperor is not a merciful man” probably saying that out of experience.
“Come back with results, or else…” he probably would get hit if he didn’t come back with results
“I can’t go back empty handed… not again” he will get hurt if he comes back empty handed (like he almost did)
As someone who has been physically abused, a lot of Hunters mannerisms (like the way he flinches, closes his eyes, and tenses up when near that person (or even other people), even if they aren’t doing anything real threatening) reminds me a lot of myself. I fully believe he is physically abused, and if it’s revealed that he isn’t I will be genuinely shocked, because all of his mannerisms add up.
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youaremyhome · 9 months
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The Antimatter of You
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Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!
Notes: 4.4k!! I did it!!! I promise now that it’s summer (and getting fired from my job) I’ll have more time to write/update. Hope it lives up to the hype lol let a girl know ok love ya ❤️
Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou @malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @magnificantmermaid @mk15x @abbybarnesstuff @lavenderhue @dirtytomatoedwrites
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (And I’m sorry if I missed you, I love you)
The scent of flowers is nauseating but with a knock on your door, Rafe ignores it as best as he can.
It’s been several days since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without any physical contact. His texts were met with one worded replies or none at all. Having done a stellar job of avoiding him. Taking new routes to your lectures, roommates answering the door saying you weren’t home, skipping your Ethics class, the seat glaringly empty beside him.
Rafe knew to give you some space – if only for this once. The incident with you, him and Topper had shaken you greatly, no one had ever seen such an argument between the two of you. His best friend had given him a thorough tongue-lashing that morning after your exit. A reminder from Rafe about Topper’s general creepiness towards his sister had him shutting up instantly.  
Before, Rafe had believed you were slowly - but surely - getting used to him being a fixture in your life. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you were fully submitting, of course, but he knew you would be able to get there. With time.
He’s let you have your little tantrum of silence. It was a mistake to treat you so harshly, even if you had wasted a hundred dollars worth of good product.
You’re home alone today. He’s made sure of it. Camped outside your townhome for the past two hours. All your roommates had gone out for various things, filing out one by one. The only one left was the most annoying: Daniella.  
While Louise and Andi gave knowing smirks whenever the group was together, Daniella always had a strained smile. As if she struggled to let him anywhere near you.
To ensure her absence, he had recruited the help of Carson. Telling him to lure his girlfriend out so Rafe could talk to his.
He rasps on the door again, calling out your name.
“Open the door. I know you’re home.” When there’s no response, Rafe fist hits harder. “Open the damn door.”
He repeats your name multiple times as he jingles the doorknob. After a few more tries, he sighs and gives up. It didn’t have to go this way.
The click of the door is quiet, Rafe soundlessly closing it as he pockets his copy of the key. Slyly walking through the foyer, the back of your head appears when he comes into the open living room. The crinkle of plastic as his hands squeeze the stems makes your head almost fall off from how fast you look behind.
“What in the actual hell, Rafe?” Pushing off the couch, you cross your arms. A faint line creased between your eyebrows and Rafe can’t help but notice you aren’t wearing a bra. “How’d you get in here?”
“Spare.” Rafe simply says. “Y’know, just in case of an emergency.”
“Or to sneak in here like a fucking creep.”
“No…for when my girl is ignoring me.”
Rafe lifts the bouquet up, savoring how you take in the view of your favorite flowers in white and faint pink. Taking a step toward you, a minute flinch ticks at your shoulders. Rafe stops.
“Well, you can throw them in the garbage on your way out.” Your ponytail swishes when you twirl back to plant yourself on the couch. “Go away.”
“Aw c’mon baby,” Groaning, he rolls his head back. He rounds the couch, standing in front of the TV. Extending his arm out, he presents the flowers again. “How about you find a nice vase for these, and I’ll make it up to you.”
The stupid comment grants him exactly what he wants, your attention on him. Eyes like needlepoints hoping to puncture him.
“You can do so by leaving.” You turn the volume up, and you focus back on the TV.
It’s the dismissal that has Rafe’s ire prickling his skin, his patience splintering.  
“Alright, that’s enough. I gave you plenty a time to pout.”
Your lips puff with your incredulous. “Pout? Pout?” You swat at the bouquet. “I’m not pouting. I’m fucking pissed and tired of you.”
'Pissed off' he could deal with. The pouting is cute. Your tears are an intoxicating aphrodisiac. But to be tired of him?
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
Rafe squats down, supporting his forearms on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes. Staring at the upwards angle of your face, he doesn’t have to wait long for your eyes to nervously meet his. Containing his anger has never been his forte. You simultaneously ignite his fire to a roaring inferno and wash it down until there’s only embers left. At the moment, he was between the two.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He blows out a breath. “I, I should’ve never gotten like that with you. Forgive me, angel?”
Leaning the flowers forward, the petals tap once against your bare knees. A deadlock between wills of opposing nature. Your facial expressions switch like the flipping of pages, the language of you becoming easier to understand the more time he spends with you.
“Apology unaccepted.”
Snatching the bouquet out of his grip, you stand and beeline for the kitchen. Rafe rights himself up, following you lazily. Playing his own game of shadow with each step and turn you make. Your slamming cabinets left and right until you find one beneath the sink, almost cracking the glass of a long vase with your force.
His gaze skims over the flimsy material of your sleep shorts, and the way your breasts slope beneath your tank top. Your hands busy themselves with arranging the stems and such, actively ignoring his presence. Hands in his pockets, Rafe takes measured strides until he’s a hairs length away from your back.
“…I never got my hello kiss.”
Your glare radiates so potently that Rafe doesn’t have to look to know it's there. Placing his hands on your hips, he walks the tips of his fingers inward and smirks when a quiver to your lower belly ripples across. Lips kiss at the tension in your shoulders, thumbs molding like dough into your sides.
“I’ve missed you…” His tongue peaks out, tasting the skin there. A hand travels down to play with the waistband of your shorts. “Missed this cunt, too.”
“Rafe – wait,” The hitching of your breath is so sweet he cups you in his wide hand in a fluid downslide. The pinching pain of your nails into his wrists has him stilling, lingering. Your neck stretches as you look back as your features pinch in. “I’m…I’m on my…y’know, period.”
He wants to believe you – truly he does – but lies spill from those pretty lips all the time so…
Frustrated whimpers break loose between your bitten lip while Rafe continues down, your head leaning on his shoulder in defeat. Swirling the tip of his middle finger closer to your hole, the touch of roped cotton has him pausing. A string.
Damn it.
Rafe sighs and trails up your slit to lightly stroke your clit once more before he’s slipping his hand out, keeping it low on your warm pelvis. It rises a rumbled chuckle from him, peering down at your weak glare. This close to your face, he can see all the small imperfections that add to the mosaic of your beauty. Gliding his other hand up, he passes a ghost of a touch to your chest before it lands with a curl around your throat. The addition of it pushes you fully into perfection.
Humming and eyes hooded, Rafe draws out a peck to your lips. The warm, soft contact is barely a kiss, just a need to feel you closer that has Rafe relaxing a fraction. “C’mon then.”
Leading you back to the couch, you resume your previous seat that looks more like a nest with a bundle of blankets, a heating pad, and candy there. Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline when he lays the warmed pad on your lower abdomen, wrapping a fuzzy throw around you then tucking you under his arm, situated to lean against him. Propping his feet on the ottoman, Rafe focuses on the TV which plays some sort of reality show.
Your suspicion rises like steam, muscles strained with preparation for flight. It isn’t until halfway through the show does Rafe feel your body incrementally slacken and by the third, you’ve fallen asleep.
So, if the show happens to stay on there’s no one around to judge.
Rafe likes it when you’re asleep. Can freely stare at you without an icy sneer or bitchy remark to ruin the moment. Just a doll nuzzled deep into the side of him resonating a humming of snores.
His peace is ruined by the vibrating of his phone. He checks the screen.
Ward
With care, Rafe eases up from the couch and repositions your head so it’s against a pillow then heads into the kitchen.
Ward hardly calls him. The proportion of Rafe’s outgoing calls to him weighs heavily unanswered. Taking a deep breath, he picks up.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” There’s an eager edge to his question and Rafe hates it.
“Rafe, checking in to see how you doin’?” Ward’s deep timbre carries easily through the speaker.
“Good. I’m good.” Rafe looks at the back of the couch, smiling. “Yeah, I’m actually at my girl –”
“Listen, bud,” His father starts. “You got any plans for spring break? Wantcha come down so you can help me start up this new project. It’s a big one.”
Rafe pumps his fist into the air silently, excitement coloring his voice. “No, yeah, totally! I can do that. I’m up for it.”
“You sure? This is legit business and I need you to have a clear head. That means no…partying when you’re here, ‘ight? No funny stuff while we do this. Can you handle that, Rafe?”
It isn’t the serious tone of his father’s gruff voice that has his excitement evaporating. It’s the impending disappointment there like Rafe has already fucked up. Ward giving him a chance and still expecting failure in the end. A flash of hurt burns through but Rafe shakes it off, tells himself that he deserves it considering his track record.
“You can count on me, sir. I swear.”
A pause. Rafe thinks Ward might give encouraging words. A squeeze of a hand for support, words he’s heard him tell Sarah.
Only it’s: “See you soon.” And that’s that.
The dual beep from the phone lets Rafe know Ward’s hung up, just as a ‘love you’ was balancing off his tongue. He must be busy today.
“Who was that?”
Your voice rises from the couch before your head pops up, hair all fluffy and ruffled. Eyes are a bit puffy from sleep as you blink them open. The late afternoon sun creates a soft yellow hue through the windows, catching onto strands of your hair, soaking into your skin. Rafe is momentarily blinded by the view that it takes him a second to respond.  
“My dad.” Carding his fingers through his hair, Rafe smiles as the thrill returns. “He wants me to assist with a new job. This is huge for me!”
Yawning, you stretch and get up from the couch. Rafe keeps his body angled to yours, head nodding along to his babbling as you fill a glass of water.
“If he could see that I’m ready – that I’m ready to get serious, I’ll finally be a part of the Cameron legacy. My legacy. It’s about time he’s bought me into the loop…sure I’ve been tagging along since I could remember but this time, he wants my input. I’ll be able to share my ideas and he’ll have to listen.” He sighs, winded. “It’s too bad I’ll be gone for spring break –”
“Really?”
You’re at the edge of the peninsula, hip leaning against the counter as you take another sip. Your eyes shift from his to elsewhere, fingers drumming an uneven beat. Adjacent to you and with his hands braced on the counter, Rafe slides closer. Spreading his fingers apart to reach out a pinky to stroke your own.
“Don’t miss me too much.”
Scoffing, you swipe your hand away. “As if.” Your face softens a little into curiosity. “What does your dad do again?”
Shock rocks at his heart and it's damn hard to keep it in. He can count on one hand the number of times you’ve shown genuine interest in conversation with him.
“He owns a development company. Operates daily with the construction of buildings and those type of things.”
“Oh.” Your eyes are open and inviting, the slightest tilt in his direction.
Rafe steams on ahead, wanting to keep your attention. “Yeah, he started it all on his own. Born on the other side of the island. Actually made something of himself… unlike those dirty pogues down there now.”
It’s automatic to sneer out the slur. He can’t help the disgust he feels just thinking about that side of town.  
One of your eyebrows raises. “Aren’t you, like, fourth generation to attend UNC?” Your chin juts out. “Wouldn’t that mean your family has had, like enough money to go for so long?”
Rafe could crack a tooth from the grinding of his teeth. You’re not the first to connect the dots but you certainly are one of the few to vocalize it.  
“Third.” Rafe sucks his teeth in. “The Camerons may have started out on the Cut, but they grew to be more middle class. Only the truly elite are on Figure Eight.”
It infuriates him to no end of that simple fact. That just before he was born Ward was making his way through the Cut and into Figure Eight, the right side of the island. Where he – they always belonged.
Your eyes roll with a tilt of your head. “So, not really a pogue, not really a kook. Just an ordinary man like the rest of the world. Y’know, stepping on that island is like being in a fucked up alternate universe.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I am not!” The stomping of your foot says otherwise. “It’s the worst place I’ve ever been.”
“It’s the best place.”
It’s amusing to watch your cheeks puff in frustration. “Only because of the little notoriety your family has there.”
A slow smirk spreads out like elastic, leaning into you. “Well, of course, sweetheart.”
With anyone else, Rafe would be squashing them beneath his shoe like a bug for a comment like that. With you, however…he finds he wants to know all your thoughts regarding him, the good and the bad. Suck in all the information he can, leach off every emotion you hold for him. The anger, the disgust, the begrudging pleasure.
At the same time, Rafe doesn’t have to hide behind a polite smile or use his charm to peruse you. He’s his real self. The most based form of a soul he struggles to hold onto. Wants to lay the shreds of his soul at your feet like a sacrifice, irrevocably intertwined together.
A peculiar look morphs on your face. Like when you’re working through a difficult assignment. Unmoving, focused but this time on him, which is extremely rare. Usually, you shield yourself away in a layer of ice that solidifies you.
“What?”
“What?” You parrot back, lashes blinking rapidly to break your connected gazes.
“What are you thinking about?” He angles his head low to follow your eyes.
Rafe half expects the typical retort of: ‘You don’t need to know all my waking thoughts.’
“Just…Doesn’t everyone on the island think he was a true pouge?”
So, you have listened to his rants before.
“People remember and think what they want to. Ward doesn’t have to answer to any of them.” His eyes narrow. “Why?”
Your fingers begin to fiddle with themselves. Twisting fingers in knots, squeezing the tips in a random pattern.
Again, he asks. “Why’re you so interested?”
“What? Now you’re gonna be mad I’m talking to you?”
Sass is a defense mechanism you use often; one Rafe finds the most annoying but just as addictive to combat with. It continues in his silent stare.
“I guess… I’m just confused why you would want to work with him so badly?” Your tone goes from curious to condescending within a blink of an eye. “If my dad treated me like that, I’d want to be as far away from him as possible.”
The straightening of his spine is immediate. “You don’t know shit about my dad.”
“Just that he treats you like shit –”
“Shut up –”
“Bet he’d love to know his only son is a psychotic rapist!”
His eyes bulge. A moment of stillness that enraptures the both of you. The bickering was reeving him up to ravish you across the countertop. Now, his mind whirls from the total 180 you’ve pulled on him. Never has he heard you utter those condemning words before. Rafe didn’t think you’d succumb to that dark truth, let alone say it out loud.
A scoff hiccups deep from his chest. “What fucking proof you got of that, sweetheart?” Shifting closer, your face pinches in as Rafe leers, “Your wet cunt cumming each time I force it in?”
It’s a low blow you take with stride, a flinch before you're sneering. “What about that little coke problem of yours?”
There.
There it is.
The real reason you’ve gone down this path of conversation. Nosing your way into things pretty girls like you shouldn’t concern yourself with. Much less with the intention set in your shoulders.
“You trying to blackmail me?” The chuckle comes low, barely a sound of amusement. “Oh, honey,” Rafe mocks. “You didn’t know he already knows?”
The façade of your bravado crumbles, a half step taken back with weary eyes. He tsks and cocks his head back, disappointed. With a sudden swing of his arm, the back of his hand knocks your glass of water to the other side of the room. The shattering of glass and your shriek harmonize, creating the perfect symphony to his sudden charging to you, arms an unknown mix until he shoves you against the wall.
Both hands hold your throat. Nails pierce his skin and scratch along the length trying to find a better leverage. The squeezing doesn’t stop until your eyes are pleading and swimming in the dark waters of fear.
“I may be a fuck up but I’m still his son.” Jerkily releasing you, your head wobbles on your neck. Hands barricading you in, Rafe lowers his head until your noses touch. Your panting breaths feed his next ones in.
“Don’t threaten me if you can’t back. It. Up!” His final warning is yelled, vibrating against your lips as his palms smack beside your head with each pointed word.
Your tears have gone unnoticed until you curl to the side and his lips taste the salty moisture upon your skin. Normally, the sight of them would soften his anger and harden his cock, leading the situation to hot make-up sex.
It isn’t enough. Not today.
Not when his future is within his grasp, his for the taking. Not with the knowledge of you trying to get rid of him, the idea as pointless as it is terrifying. Going to desperate measures when you should be desperate for him.
With a practiced move, Rafe retches your hair between tightened knuckles and pulls until your neck is a long arch and facing him. He ignores the pain-filled yelp and weak hands patting his chest.
“You want me to force you? Is that it, baby, huh?” Rafe hisses.
He hauls you down until your knees fold beneath you. A sick delight like seasickness rolls down to his groin as he growls. Weak defiance lives in your eyes, frowning with his name on your tongue. It's a tug of war between Rafe’s hand and your struggle to rise, keeping your hair taunt. It’s the sight of him unzipping his fly that has you hitting his thighs with a renewed alarm.
“Rafe! Stop it –”
“Keep fightin’ and you’re only gonna make it worse f’yourself.” Rafe warns another yank just to hear you shriek.
Fisting the base of his cock, he pulls it out through the opening. He aims for your mouth, but you cringe making the tip smear on your chin. Rafe tuts, guiding your head right where he wants, and flexes his arm, sure to hold you in place.
“C’mon n’ open up,” he drawls. “Take your punishment.”
Stroking up to the tip, his thumb sweeps along the ridge and tilts his hips forward, hovering just above those plush lips. Tapping the red flesh on your closed mouth, Rafe splays his hand on your chin and squeezes on the delicate bones until your jaw unhinges with a wail to relieve the pain.
Like a serpent striking, he’s pushing in before you can react. Bumping against the roof of your mouth, the rigids of your hard palate make him jerk with sensitivity and envelop the next few inches. The hot, wet rush has sparks crackling up his spine. All that heat and anger spirals down to his cock, the need to claim brooding in his balls. Grunting your name with each gag you give, his thumb caresses the corner of your lip as he watches enthralled.
A part of him wants to take his time. Use gentle strokes to coax your mouth open, train you with patience to swallow his cock just right.
Instead with a mean smirk, Rafe plunges half his cock in. The clenching of your throat makes it hard to go in deeper, the constriction of your resistance inflames his pleasure. The underside of his dick feels the rippling of your tongue like a wave, chasing after it eagerly. Your high-pitched whines are muffled by the weight of him, gargles of air getting blocked as he teases the opening of your throat.
“Can’t believe I’ve gone this long without fucking that mouth of yours.”
Saliva accumulates, thick and slippery as his cock triggers your gag reflex, spit dribbling down your jaw. Your drool coats him to create a smooth glide, lower abdomen tensing, and stuffing further in. Such a pretty sight seeing you like this, gurgling and coughing between the space of your cheeks and his cock. Eyelashes clumped, a darkening hue on your cheeks, small fistfuls of his jeans. Your gagging clinches your throat, locking him in tight before it flutters open.
Rafe allows you to pull back far enough to catch a breath. Coughing out into shaky inhales, lips puffy from abuse and slicked with combined spit and precum. Standing above you like this gives him the most delicious view of your stretched neck. From the tip of your chin to the swell of your cleavage in an expanse of skin that should be carved into marble.
Words tangle as you stutter and gasp, Rafe hushing you with faux tenderness. “I’m going to fuck ya throat now…”
Weaving his fingers once more into your hair, Rafe pushes back into your avoiding mouth. Your fighting ignites a primal urge of take, take, take within him. A bloating want fills his void. Sticky and black as tar that he wants to pour onto you, anoint you with his devoted desecration.
There is little mercy with the pistoling of his hips, ass clenching in pointed thrusts. Mummering encouragements of that’s it, such a good girl and various pitches of your name, Rafe feeds you his length with a fevered urgency. The squelching of his dick opening your throat layers with his low moans, watching as each inch disappears until your lips are kissing his pelvis.
His hips jerk involuntarily as a tickling of pleasure jolts him, your wet bottom lip moving on the sensitive spot just below his base and above his heavy balls. It feels so good and you’re not even actively sucking on him. Just a soft wet home for him to press in farther, another place he has laid claim to.
Fringes of hair droop between his eyes, almost hunched over as he pulls his hips to ram back in. Wet spots glisten on your chest, staining your tank top. A relentless pace fueled by rage and an ache.
“Fuck – ah – I’m gonna cum.” Rafe says hoarsely and tilts his head back if only to starve off his orgasm by looking away. “My good lil’ slut…swallow my cum.”
Angling your head up, Rafe slides his cock down all the way to the root. Grip tightening on your head, he rocks side to side to wiggle in as much as he can. You're choking helplessly as he fucks so deep, it feels like he might reach your heart. One hand skates down to your neck and palms the bulge, holding it there to experience the swell of it. Minuscule thrusts nudge the back wall of your esophagus, his thumb rubs up and down where the head sits.
The scrunching of your eyes and difficult breaths boosts his ego but he needs to see you. Needs you to see him.
“Look at me.” His fingers press in painfully. Eyes flickering half open, the devastation set in your irises kindles his breaking point. “Ugh,” he grunts your name like gravel between his teeth.
Stilling in the depths of you, Rafe cums.  
Your muscles intuitively constrict and swallow, suctioning him with hot, white pleasure. The wet of your cheeks is like velvet as you drink his cum.
Seconds or minutes pass before he loosens his hold. Loud choking fits break between your breathing once you're free from his cock, covered in a layer of drool and residual cum. Rafe pets your hair, trying to smooth out the knots he’s made.
You’re still crying as he calms down from his high, face nuzzling into his hip to hide. God, he’s going to get hard again with you looking so pathetic.
“Did you learn your lesson, pretty angel?” Dragging rough fingers through your hair, he bunches a handful and barely pulls, your neck like a snapped cord as your head flops back. An index finger tenderly traces down your cheek to your swollen lips.
“Any more empty threats and I’ll rape your mouth until you pass out.”
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dgsource · 3 months
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I'm proud. I'm just proud, you know?
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dearjohns · 11 months
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Don't blame me, love made me crazy.
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jkvjimin · 3 months
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SHOT GLASS OF TEARS Golden Live On Stage | 231120
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fandomnsfw · 11 months
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Pack Mom - Derek Hale x Reader
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Pairing: Derek x Reader
Prompt: You’ve always been the mother figure to everyone in the pack but when the pups start calling you mom they also start treating you as Derek’s mate, awkwardness and confessions ensue.
Warning: Smut! and other shit! :D 
ENJOY!!
*****
You hopped out of your newly bought Mustang, you knew the pack would be shocked at your new car but the moment you saw the sleek black vehicle you knew it was the one. Your last car got trashed in a car chase with the Calaveras but you dug into your inheritance and decided to get something nicer. The moment one foot stepped out of the new car Stiles was on you with a million questions.
“Ohh my god when did you get this!? How does it run!? How much was it!?” You rolled your eyes but answered all of Stiles’ question calmly because you adored Stiles he was like a brother to you.
“Wow that is one beautiful car.” You heard a gruff voice say from behind you, you knew who it was but you turned around anyway with a nervous grin.
“I know she runs amazingly!” You exclaimed cheerfully which made Derek crack a small smile.
“Did he just smile?” Stiles stared at Derek with wide eyes.
“Yes Stiles I have the ability to smile.” Derek deadpanned.
“How come I’ve never seen you smile at anyone except Y/N? Well unless you count that deputy at the police station who you flirted with. Why don’t you smile at me?” Stiles rambled his arms flying around in an exaggerating manor.
“I smile at Y/N because she is about 5 times more attractive and 100% less hyperactive spaz.” Derek replied easily but when he said you were attractive your mind went blank, your heart started racing rapidly and you knew your cheeks were most likely bright red.
“Ooo Derek and Y/N sittin’ in a tree K I S S I N G fir-”
“Stiles shut up before I rip yo-”
“First comes love!” Erica popped up out of nowhere and started singing along.
“Then comes marriage!” Liam exclaimed as he burst out the door with a grin on his face.
“Then comes a baby in a baby carriage!” The three of them shouted together, at this point you knew your face was bright red so you buried your head in your hands willing it to go away.
“Then comes a divorce because she finally realises how grumpy Derek is.” You heard a cheerful voice at which made you look up to see Peter.
“Derek’s not grumpy.” You huffed at Peter which made everyone turn to you.
“Oh so no divorce?” Peter smirked knowing he’s caught you red handed.
“No! I mean-We’re not…And he’s not-Fuck my life!” You screamed storming into the house the pups soon following behind you.
You sat down next to Isaac and Liam as soon as the pack meeting started, they were both sat very close but you knew it was because contact made them calm. As Derek went through everything he needed to you stared at his chiselled face, the abs that you could see through his tight shirt and his ice green eyes as they darted to and from each pack member who asked question.
As the meeting came to a wraps Liam already had his head on your shoulder and Isaac had his on your lap you glanced at both of them smiling but knew you had to move if you wanted to get started on making dinner.
“Liam honey I need to go start on dinner.” His head shot up, nodding before running off to play video games with the boys.
“Isaac sweetie I need to go make food.” You giggled when he nuzzled into your lap more, you ran your fingers through his hair softly before looking down at his face realising he was sleeping. You lifted his head gently and set it on a cushion once you had moved. His face twisted in one of a lost puppy and he reached for anything he could.
“M-Mama..” He whimpered as his hand touched mine. Suddenly you were aware almost all the packs eyes were on you. You wanted to be embarrassed but you couldn’t be because it didn’t feel weird to be called that by the pups.
“Can I ask why everyone feel like that is something to gawp over?” You snapped in a motherly tone which soon made them lower their heads. As so finally got round to making tea you could hear Isaac shouting at the tv which you assumed to be because of a video game, suddenly Jacksons voice cut through the conversation.
“Aww is mama’s boy losing? Why don’t you go-”
“JACKSON JOHNATHAN WHITTEMORE!” you screamed as you shot out the kitchen door straight into the living area. Jackson froze and dropped his controller.
“Apologise right now!” You shouted as everyone seemed to freeze. Derek seemed ready to jump in but you knew he didn’t need to.
“Sorry Isaac..” You dipped his head slightly as if he’d been scolded by his mother.
“Now who’s a mama’s boy?” Stiles snorted which made your eyes shoot to him.
“Mieczyslaw Stilinski! Get in this kitchen and help me make food!” Everyone stared at you wide eyed making Stiles flush.
“How the hell did you pronounce that so perfectly!? I can’t even pronounce it and I’m his best friend!” Scott exclaimed as everyone stared at you then Scott. You ignored Scott question and followed an embarrassed Stiles into the kitchen.
After you finished making dinner you had the pack set the table and carry the excessive amount of food to the table. You all sat down, staring at the various foods you had made. You sat to Derek’s left and Scott was on his right. You noted that everyone let Derek eat the first bite which was normal because he was the Alpha but when everyone stared at you, you looked to Derek for help.
“Why is everyone looking at me?” You asked confused by everyone’s actions.
“The first person to eat in the pack is the Alpha then his mate, then the Alpha’s second.” Lydia stated calmly as she smiled over at you.
“But Scott is Derek’s second not me?” You replied, your left eyebrow raised slightly.
“But your Derek’s mate. Right?” Isaac asked from the seat next to you.
“What?” You looked back to Derek who was staring at Isaac with the same confused look.
“Guys we’re not dating…” Derek shifted awkwardly in his seat as he spoke it made your heart clench painfully at the fact he was uncomfortable with the idea of dating you.
“Oh sorry the idea of dating me seems so farfetched to you.” You growled at him making everyone freeze for what felt like the millionth time tonight.
“That’s not what I was saying Y/N.” Derek stated softly as he stared into your Y/E/C eyes.
“So what were you saying Derek?” You sneered and everyone seemed to shrink into their seats.
“Well I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with everything they were saying…” He whispered his voice trailing off slightly.
“In what world would anyone be uncomfortable with dating Derek Hale?!” You screeched staring at him like he’d grown another head.
“Well if you wanna play that game fine! In what world would anyone be uncomfortable with dating Y/N Y/L/N!” He retaliated harshly.
“So then why aren’t you guys dating?” Liam spoke up softly, everyone turned to look at the youngest of the pack his head held high as if he’d knew he’d said something smart.
“Because Derek doesn’t like me the way I like him and you know this!” You whisper yelled to Liam but realised that you’d said it loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You like me?” Derek asked making you turn your attention to him, your face now bright red.
“Can we talk about this after diner please? I’d like to at least enjoy the food I cooked before you flat out reject me.” You mumbled softly before pushing the food around your plate. You looked up to Derek who was now out his seat. Before you knew what had happened you were yanked out your seat, one of his arms firmly wrapped around your waist and the other hand cupped your cheek.
“Do you like me?” He asked again with more heat and curiosity in his voice, his green eyes stared into yours making everyone else disappear. You nodded softly as your eyes flicked from his to his lips. His lips met yours in a soft yet passionate kiss, after a few seconds of small kisses that stole your breath away you were pulled out by the sound of Isaac’s voice.
“Ew it’s like watching your parents make out.” You pulled away flushing slightly before looking up at Derek who sent you a pantie melting grin which made your knees weak.
“Can we eat now I didn’t slave over a hot stove to eat cold food?” Stiles grumbled which made me turn to him with a raised eyebrow daring him to take all the credit.
“I mean let eat this delicious food mama made and then make sure to give her a foot massage later?” He grinned over at your cheekily.
“Stiles shut up or I will rip your thr-” Derek stopped mid-sentence as you shot him the same look.
“I mean let’s eat then put on Y/N favourite film?” Derek mumbled his eyes wide.
“See now you’re getting it. Okay time to eat.” You giggled pressing a gentle kiss to Derek’s cheek.
After dinner you all put on a film and cuddled on the giant L shaped couch. Everyone was touching in some way with and Derek in the middle of what could only be classed as a puppy pile. You could stop to scared thought that this could just be another one of your dreams about Derek but every time you count your fingers and thumbs you had ten altogether. You buried you head into Derek hard chest which was surprisingly comfortable. You drew shapes absently on Derek’s chest as your listened to his heart beat. Every now and then it would rise and become louder but other than that it was a calming tempo.
Eventually everyone started leaving until you were the last on left in the newly re-built Hale house. You shuffled about as Derek walked you to the front door. As you were about to put your shoes on Derek stopped you grabbing your face and kissing you with so much emotion and roughness you knew your lips would bruise. When he pulled away, you let out a small whine from the loss but opened your eyes to look into his.
“God I’ve wanted to do that all night but I felt like I’d scar the pups.” Derek sighed softly as he started regaining his lost breath.
“Derek…What are we?” You asked softly as his hands made circles on both cheeks.
“You’re mine and I’m yours.” He responded calmly, his hands slipping into your hair. When he gripped your hair slightly you let out a whimper now thoughts of him claiming you, his eyes glowing red as he made you submit, made their way into your head. You soon started to feel your panties grow damn which as soon as Derek took a deep breath through his nose you knew he smelt because his eyes changed from icy green to crimson red.
“Stop.” He growled as your arousal got worse as his red eyes stared into yours.
“I can’t stop the fact that you turn me on Derek.” You chuckled softly, biting your lip so stop another whimper escaping when you felt his hand grip your hair tighter.
“You smell so sweet.” His left hands moved to grip your hip as he drew you closer towards him.
“If you don’t leave now I’m going to take you upstairs and claim you.” Derek growled into your ear, his fangs grazing against the shell of your ear.
“Then do it.” You panted as his mouth moved to your neck.
“You sure that’s what you want I mean we only star-”
Before he could continue rambling you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down for a bruising kiss. Both his hands gripped your waist in a tight hold but you didn’t care if he left bruises it just meant that Derek wanted you that much he couldn’t control himself and to you that felt empowering.
“Yes I’m sure I want Alpha to claim me.” You whined softly as you pulled away from the kiss.
He didn’t answer with words instead chose to growl at my choice of words, there was something extremely attractive about his red eyes and growls that went straight to your core. You step back from him and pulled off your baby blue summer dress you were currently wearing, leaving you in your underwear, a strapless nude pink bra and matching panties. His eyes roamed over you hungrily as you made your way up the large set of stairs, swaying your hips seductively as you went. He was soon chasing after your almost fumbling like a horny teenager to get his shirt off.
Once you reached his room, you crawled onto his bed on all fours. He made his way over to you gripping your hips tightly. His right hand slowly made its way down your back pushing softly on your shoulder blades so you were face down with your lace clad ass in the air. You giggled shaking your ass at him playfully making another feral growl emit from his chest. He playfully slapped your ass making you playfully moan at him. You knew at this point you were so wet that your panties were likely soaked. His right hand made it way down my back to my ass before skimming over your lace cover pussy.
“Jesus you’re so wet.” He groaned as if this fact caused him and his dick physical pain.
“Mhm because Alpha makes me wet.” You gasped as he moved your panties to one side and ran his index finger through your wet folds.
“What does Alpha’s little kitten want?” He whispered as his lips gave small kisses to your ass cheeks which made you whine softly.
“Want Alpha’s tongue.” You managed to whisper, your hands gripping the sheets tightly in anticipation. Instead of responding he ripped your panties off, his tongue delving into your pussy as soon as the shredded panties were thrown away. You let out a breathy moan as his tongue dipped into your hole, fucking you roughly with his tongue before moving his attention to your clit giving slight kitten licks making you whimper before trying to push back on him. His hands gripped your hips keeping you firmly in place as he continued his ministrations on your dripping core. Soon his fingers entered the mix, his two fingers slowly pushing in and out making your moans louder. He started sucking on your clit making your orgasm start towards the edge.
“D-Derek am gonna’ cum.” You stuttered out barely able to even form the sentence but these words only made his finger go faster and his licks and bites get rougher. You finally felt yourself fall gripping the sheets, his name repeatedly falling from your lips over and over. Finally as you started to come down his attention stopped and you were flipped onto your back.
“Would like to stop now Y/N?” He asked as he hovered over your body his shirt gone along with his jeans leaving him in boxers with a very large noticeable hard on showing. He tucked some of your Y/H/C hair behind your ear, his actions soft and loving making you smiles up at him tiredly.
“No I want you to make love to me.” You smiled at him lovingly as he leaned down kissing your forehead. He nodded as he grabbed a condom from the nightstand, carefully rolling it on. He lifted your legs gently wrapping them around his waist, his tip now teasing your entrance. He looked at you one last time as if asking once again if this was okay but instead of answering verbally, you brought him down for a reassuring kiss. He entered you slowly your back arching softly as you gripped onto his bicep with one hand, the other gripping the sheets. You had only had sex once when you were 17 but he was a lot bigger than the guy who took your virginity. He stopped as soon as he was fully inside of you he looked down to make sure you were okay.
“You okay baby?” He asked softly caressing your face.
“Y-Yeah this is only my second time ever having…” You drifted off yours cheeks flushing tenfold.
“You should have told me I’d of prepared you more!” He whispered yelled his voice full of panic and apologies.
“It’s okay Der I’m fine now you can move.” You whispered bring him down for a chaste kiss.
He looked uncertain with your words but you moved your hips up letting out a gasp followed quickly by a moan. You moved your arms to rest around his neck pulling him down for a slow yet passion kiss as he began with slow thrusts that made you moan into the kiss. He supported himself on one arm and used the other to run his fingers through your L/S hair. He kissed the corner of your mouth as his thrust got harder but not faster. His lips placing a trail of kisses to your neck.
“Shit Y/N…Feels good.” He moaned huskily into your ear.
Your moans were gentle and worn out as you felt yourself building again. When you clenched around Derek slightly brought his hand down to draw circles against your clit. His panting and gasps getting heavier as his thrust became more uneven and messy. His other hand gripped the sheets as he felt you finally cum around his shaft.
“Derek!” Your voice shouted out as you felt yourself cum for the second time.
“I’m cumming…” He gasped as he thrust into deeper than before, making you rasp out a quiet moan. As he came his thrust became more uneven and slowed down before coming to a stop. You were both panting as he took the condom off. He tied it throwing it into the bin before he collapsed next to you. He pulled the covers from under both of you making sure your naked body was covered as he drew you in until your head was on his chest.
“I love you Y/N.” He whispered as he kissed your head, running his fingers through your hair.
“I love you too Der.” You murmured before you felt sleep take you.
I guess being pack mom isn’t so bad after all.
-> Part 2
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chaoticdaydreamss · 8 months
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Yandere! Meliodas vs Yandere! Ban
Paring: Romantic ~ Hc + Oneshot
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Cw: Fighting, Stealing, Stalking, Yandere behavior, some slight suggestive hints, Mention of cheating/un-loyal Ban and Meliodas
-The two would have the most difficult time sharing, Ban is the fox sin of greed so he wants everything to himself, while Meliodas is the dragon sin of Wrath, the Demon King’s son.
-Even though the two went threw thick and thin they would argue over who got to sleep with you that night, or who would have you in their bed.
-Meliodas would always get first pick as captain, which didn’t work well for Ban
-Even though Ban felt horrible because he was falling for you instead of Elaine
-But he wanted you, his mind was just corrupted with the thought of you in his arms struggling in his biceps.
-The two would bicker non stop, it would annoy you and the other sins, you would tell them so stop since they both have other women.
-You didn’t want anything to do with the two, which made them want you more, Ban would stanch you and keep you to himself. Meliodas would take you and keep you “safe”
-Ban would secretly steal things from your closet or anything you really own, and keep it in his collection which he hopes he can add you to it soon
-Meliodas would stalk you from the shadows, you were never alone, he would watch you or steal your under garments and keep them under his pillow
-The only thing the two and agree on is wanting to keep you “safe” but you, you never wanted any of this.
-Ban would have a fantasy of letting all the sins and anyone you meet see him using you in front of them
-Meliodas would have a fantasy to use you in-front of Ban and tell you only he can make you feel good
-Overall, not good to have them both.
— —
As you sat in the grass soaking in the sun. Eating the sound of footsteps you turned your head and saw a tall figure and a short figure approaching you.
“Oh- hey you two what’s up.”
“Ah, nothing much. We just wanted to see what you were doing.”
“We may also be a little bored just sitting inside the boat hat..”
“Well you wanted to open it Meliodas.”
“That’s true captin’”
“Yeahhh I know.”
You smiled, letting out a giggle hearing the two bicker behind you, which brought there attention to you as they both turned their heads to look at yours, seeing the back of your head but smiled at your soft giggle, they sat next to you ban towering over you while Meliodas sat perfectly under your chest in hight.
Ignoring the two’s glares at you in full want and love you looked up at the sky and held up your hand letting your palm face the cruel sun. Getting up and dusting off the dirt you walked back to the boat hat, but was quickly yanked back into Ban’s arms.
“Mmmm- why are you always trying to leave when we are around?”
“You guys just pick horrible times to be around me, I’ve been out here longer then you. So I’m burnin up in the heat.”
“We’ll let me shield you then~”
“Hey! Am I chop liver?!”
“Yes you are captin’”
Meliodas threw a punch but grabbed you so you weren’t injured from the blow in any way, Ban coughing up blood and chuckling. His body regenerated as he got up.
“Geez captain your hits have been gettin’ weaker lately.”
“I highly doubt that, maybe I’m just goin easy on you.”
You squirmed out of Meliodas’s grasp, glaring the the two.
“You both act like fucking kids- you bicker until your passed out drunk.”
Your rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried walking off before being embraced by the two figures, apologizes came from their mouths, which you forgave them and you all returned to the Boar Hat, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that being with the two is a horrible decision.
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one-piece-aus · 5 months
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Whumptober Day 19
Luffy x Reader
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"Back off!"  You held up your sword.
"What's wrong, [Y/n]?" Luffy tried approaching you but pointed your weapon directly at him.
"Keep your claws away from me!"
Confusion plastered on Luffy's face. Your voice and movement were directed at him, yet your fear-infected eyes stared at the air above him.  Hostility projected from your stance, your teeth grinding together, and your eyes glowing a usual colour.
You were under the influence of a devil fruit.
Standing in front of your delusion eyes is a man you feared, Luffy nowhere to be seen.
"What are you talking about [Y/n]?" "Aw, scared now are we?"
"I'm not scared of you!" You take a step back.
"[Y/n], snap out of it!" Luffy frowned, walking toward you. "Are you sure about that?" The man grinned and stalked toward you.
"Stay- stay away..." You felt yourself shrinking the further you backed up.
The wall prevented you from any further escape. Luffy reached out to you. The man invaded your space. You swung your sword but Luffy knocked it out of your grasp the man yanked it out of your hand and threw it across the room.
"No...no..." you muttered, retracting your arms away from him.
Luffy wrapped his arms around you. The man engulfed you in his embrace.
"Let go- Let go of me!" You cried, pounding on his chest, but he didn't move. Tears poured down your cheeks as you felt his hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer. Your nose is forced to intake his scent yet as the smell enters your senses, you register to be warm and friendly.
Blinking away your tears, your resistance ceasing. Hesitantly, you place your hands on his shoulders and look at him.
Luffy.
You see Luffy.
Your breathing steadies. Your muscles relax.
"Luffy?"
"I'm here, [Y/n]."
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voidpetrova · 7 months
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captive hearts — void!stiles x reader
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☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, degradation, slut-shaming, breeding kink, obsession
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: it wasn't something your best friend would do, but it's what the nogitsune wanted for him. it was supposed to be against your will, but you couldn't stop yourself from falling for the familiar face that was holding you hostage
✧.*
the night hung heavy with a sense of unease, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent intent. in the dimly lit hallway of eichen house, you stood, the distant echoes of your friends' voices fading into the background. anxiety clawed at your chest, a gnawing feeling that something was deeply wrong.
as you rounded a corner, a figure stepped out of the shadows, and your breath caught in your throat. your best friend stood before you, his eyes dark and haunted, his presence radiating with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
“(y/n),” his voice was a low, almost chilling whisper, a stark contrast to the stiles you knew so well. “you shouldn't be here.”
despite the warning in his words, you felt a surge of concern for your friend, your best friend. the stiles you had grown up with, the one who had shared countless memories and inside jokes. but now, as you looked into those void-black eyes, you couldn't deny the presence of something darker and far more sinister.
“what's happened to you, sti?” you asked softly, your heart heavy with worry.
a mirthless smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his voice carrying an eerie edge. ”oh, i'm still me, sweetheart. just a version you've never seen before.”
before you could react, his hand had shot out, his fingers gripping your wrist in an iron hold. panic surged within you, your heart racing as you struggled against his grasp.
“let me go, sti, please,” you pleaded, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and determination. he didn't relent, his grip unyielding as he stared down at you, his expression an enigmatic mask. “you're not leaving, (y/n). you're staying with me.”
confusion mingled with your fear. “why? what is it you want?”
his gaze held yours, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “i want you all to myself. away from distractions, away from interference. just you and me.”
his words sent a chill down your spine, the implications sinking in like a weight in your chest. your friends, the pack—they were the distractions he spoke of. stiles wanted you isolated, wanted your undivided attention. but for what purpose?
“stiles, please,” you pleaded, the fear in your voice betraying your facade of strength. “this isn't you. you're my friend.”
for a moment, something flickered in his eyes, a brief hint of the stiles you knew. but then it was gone, replaced by the darkness that had consumed him.
he leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “they don't matter, (y/n). only you.”
his words were a whisper against your skin, a dangerous allure that tugged at the edges of your resolve. despite the fear, despite the unease, you found yourself drawn to him—compelled by his magnetism, his power, and the dangerous allure of the unknown.
the air grew heavy with tension as stiles maintained his unyielding grip on your wrist. his touch was both firm and possessive, a reflection of the darkness that had consumed him. there was a twisted energy about him, an intensity that sent shivers down your spine and yet stirred an unfamiliar curiosity within you.
“why are you doing this, stiles?” your voice wavered, your heart pounding against your chest.
his eyes bore into yours, void of the warmth and familiarity you once knew. “because, (y/n), there's something about you that i can't resist. something that draws me in, that makes me crave your presence.”
his words held a certain vulnerability, an admission that cut through the layers of manipulation. and despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you couldn't help but sense a flicker of truth in his confession.
stiles' fingers released your wrist, only to replace their grip with cold metal cuffs that bound your wrists together. he led you down the dimly lit corridor, the echo of your footsteps resonating through the silence. chains clinked softly as they trailed behind you, a physical reminder of your captivity.
“you and i, (y/n),” stiles murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “we're bound by something deeper than friendship. i can feel it. and i need you, all of you, to myself.”
as you walked beside him, the weight of his words settled over you like a cloak. the darkness within him was palpable, and yet, there was a connection that defied reason—an inexplicable link between you that drew you closer, even in the face of danger.
he led you into a room, its walls adorned with eerie symbols that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. chains dangled from the ceiling, their presence a stark reminder of the power stiles now wielded.
“you won't leave here until you understand,” he said, his gaze intense and unyielding. “until you see the truth of what we could be.”
stiles' hands moved deftly, securing the chains around your wrists, leaving you bound and vulnerable. the metal cuffs bit into your skin, a physical manifestation of the control he exerted over you.
“you're hurting me, sti,” you whispered, your voice laced with a mixture of pain and desperation.
his eyes softened for a moment, a trace of remorse flickering within them. “i don't want to hurt you, (y/n). but you have to see. you have to feel what I feel.”
he drew closer, his presence consuming the small space between you. his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle, and yet, beneath it all, you sensed the unrelenting darkness that had taken hold of him.
“i've watched you, wanted you,” stiles confessed, his voice laced with raw emotion. “and now, i can't resist. you're mine, (y/n). even if you don't know it yet.”
his lips brushed against yours, a kiss that held a desperate longing, a dangerous craving. and as his mouth captured yours, you couldn't help but taste the dichotomy within him—the darkness and the yearning that intertwined in a twisted symphony of desire.
for the first time since your captivity began, your resistance wavered, the line between fear and fascination blurred. stiles' kiss held a power over you that defied reason, igniting a fire within your very core.
and as he pulled away, his eyes locked onto yours, a sense of inevitability settled over you—a realization that the boundaries between captor and captive were more fluid than you had ever imagined. in the midst of the shadows, a dangerous intimacy had formed, a connection that transcended the darkness and danced on the precipice of something deeper, something you couldn't yet comprehend.
the weight of your captivity pressed down on you, the chains and cuffs a tangible reminder of your vulnerability. stiles' eyes bore into yours, a mixture of intensity and anticipation that sent a shiver down your spine. his confession, his touch, his kiss—they were all a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to consume you.
tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, your voice shaking as you found the words. “stiles, please— i can't share my feelings like this, not when you're— not when you're like this.”
his fingers brushed away your tears, his touch gentle against your skin. “(y/n),” he murmured, his voice a mixture of longing and reassurance, “you don't have to say a word. i can see it in your eyes.”
you trembled beneath his gaze, your heart a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions. his words held a truth you couldn't deny—the feelings you had suppressed, the connection you had resisted, it was all there, laid bare in the depths of your gaze.
he leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, a tender gesture that contrasted sharply with the darkness that enveloped him. “i've waited for this,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “waited for you to see what's between us.”
your heart pounded in your chest, a symphony of fear and desire that echoed in the silence between you. his lips descended upon yours once more, a kiss that was both a declaration and an invitation. and this time, as his mouth claimed yours, you didn't hold back.
your lips met his in a fervent dance, a mixture of desperation and surrender that left you breathless. the chains that bound you became an afterthought, the darkness that surrounded you fading into the background. there was only stiles—the stiles who had once been your best friend and confidant, and the stiles who now held you captive in a web of emotions too complex to untangle.
as his kiss deepened, a sense of inevitability settled over you—a recognition that your fate was now irrevocably intertwined with his. the tears you had shed, the resistance you had fought—it all seemed inconsequential in the face of the consuming desire that pulsed between you.
his hands explored your body with a reverence that belied the darkness that had taken hold of him. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, each caress sending waves of heat through your veins. the chains that had once symbolized captivity now seemed like a conduit of connection, linking you to him in a way that defied the confines of reason.
and as the minutes stretched into moments, and the boundaries between you blurred beyond recognition, you felt a strange sense of surrender. it wasn't just to him—it was to the complex emotions that had taken root within you, to the longing and the darkness that now coursed through your veins.
stiles' lips left a trail of kisses along your jaw, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that melded seamlessly with the turmoil of emotions you felt. the fear, the desire, the confusion—they all melded together in a symphony of sensations that left you dizzy and disoriented.
you pulled him closer, your fingers threading through his hair as you captured his lips in a fervent kiss. in that moment, the darkness that surrounded you was eclipsed by the intensity of your connection—an intensity that defied reason, logic, and the very essence of who you thought you were.
as the darkness and the desire merged into a single entity, you surrendered yourself to the storm that raged within you, a storm that was as much a part of you as the beating of your heart.
amid the whirlwind of emotions, your senses seemed to blur, the line between reality and desire becoming increasingly indistinct. stiles' touch was intoxicating, his kisses igniting a fire that consumed you from the inside out. the chains that bound you, once symbols of captivity, now felt like a tether to something deeper, something that defied the darkness that surrounded you.
his fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch both tender and possessive. his lips brushed against yours in a series of fervent kisses, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only you and stiles, entangled in a dance that seemed to transcend time and space.
his breath was warm against your skin as he pulled away slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. “(y/n),” he whispered, his voice rough with longing.
tears welled up in your eyes, your heart a tumultuous sea of emotions. the words you spoke next were laden with a raw honesty that cut through the darkness like a beacon of light. “stiles, i love you. i don't care what you do to me. just—just do whatever you want. i'm yours.”
his eyes widened, surprise mingling with a rush of desire that seemed to consume him. a mixture of conflicting emotions played across his features—a sense of disbelief, a yearning for connection, and a darkness that still clung to him.
but then, as if a dam had broken, stiles' expression shifted. the vulnerability in his eyes intensified, the conflict giving way to a single-minded determination. he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that spoke of urgency and need.
the room seemed to spin around you as the kiss deepened, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer. the chains and cuffs that held you were no longer barriers—they were mere threads in a tapestry woven from the emotions that bound you to him.
stiles' hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that mirrored the intensity of his emotions. your skin burned under his touch, each caress igniting a fire that seemed to spread through your veins. and with every touch, every kiss, the divide between you grew smaller, until there was nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by him.
as the minutes stretched into eternity, you felt a sense of liberation—a liberation from the constraints of reason, from the boundaries of morality. the darkness that had once defined him was now a mere shadow, eclipsed by the force of your shared desires.
stiles pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you say that.”
your chest heaved, your heart racing as you met his gaze with unwavering sincerity. “i meant every word, stiles. i don't care about the void. i love you, all of you.”
the vulnerability in his eyes deepened, a sense of awe mingling with his desire. he kissed you again, a kiss that was both a promise and a confession—a promise of something deeper, something that defied the darkness that had brought you to this point.
and as his lips claimed yours once more, you kissed him back with a fervor that mirrored his own. In the midst of the chaos, the desires, and the emotions that swirled around you, a new truth emerged—a truth that transcended captivity and defied reason.
“i've gotta be honest, doll,” he murmured into the kiss, stroking your cuffed wrists as he attached his lips to the crease of your jawline. “spent so many nights jerking off to the thought of you.” you pressed your thighs together, attempting to ease the tingling between your legs as a soft moan left your mouth.
“stiles, please,” you moaned, tugging at his dark locks as he sucked on the sweet spot of your neck, sucking until it was marked with purple. “need you inside me already.” he smirked at the way you begged for him, your words going straight to his dick as his jeans tightened.
he pulled away from your neck as he admired your desirable state, neck marked, hands cuffed and legs spread for him. your eyes fell to the bulge in his jeans, a small gasp passing your lips. the size was incredible, you couldn't possibly imagine what was waiting for you behind the fabric. “go on, princess,” he cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “take it out for me, baby. show me how much you want it.”
you did as you were told, from unbuttoning his jeans, to sliding them down his legs, to ignoring the way your pussy throbbed at the sight. his grey boxers had a stain pressed right where his tip was, tight and suffocating as his dick was outlined in the most perfect way. when you slid his boxers down in anticipation, your eyes widened, the smirk on his face only growing. “it's too big,” you gasped, and you weren't exaggerating. you knew it would tear your cunt apart with the combination of length and thickness. “gonna rip me apart.”
he could only shudder as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand pulling him in by his shirt. he was practically on top of you now, big dick right in your face as you clutched it. he exchanged your hand for his own, tilting his cock towards your mouth, shuddering as he tapped his slicked, angry tip against your bottom lip. you parted your lips, saliva trickling as you engulfed his tip, swirling your tongue around the slit as salty pre-cum filled your mouth and groans of pleasure filled your ears.
“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he cooed, hand brushing your cheek as he admired you. you were so slutty for him, so willing and eager to please the man who was holding you hostage. “needy little doll, aren't you?” you nodded as he withdrew his cock from your mouth, smearing the arousal onto your lips before pulling away.
“please give me more, sti,” you moaned as you felt your clit throb, tugging on your restraints but failing to accomplish anything. “need all of you, please.”
he took pride in the way you begged him so nicely, in the way tears clouded your vision due to the lack of friction and mercy. he held devious laughter back as the tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to resist a few pumps of his dick at the sight of your tears. he leaned down, lips grazing your ear as his hands began to roam your body.
“little sluts like you get their pussies used, you know that? walking around in tops like this with your tits out, you like it when other guys stare at you?” you shook your head but it was no use, he had torn off your shirt, leaving you in a bra that would soon fall to the floor. he groaned, dick pressing into your skin as he groped your tits, eyes practically rolling back into his head as he sucked on the soft flesh, tongue swirling around your nipples before he engulfed them whole. “and these skirts that barely cover your ass, come on. you get a thrill knowing aiden's watching your cute little thighs? knowing isaac and theo are jacking off to your ass and tits at home, wishing they could have you the way i do?” the skirt you had on met the same fate as your top, leaving you in panties that made stiles go insane—see-through, pink, and for his eyes only. his hands pulled apart the flesh of your ass as you moaned, his lips trailing along your thighs, kisses planted on every inch of skin until you could feel his hot breath fanning your pussy.
“such a pretty little thing,” he cooed, pressing his nose into your barely-clothed clit. you whimpered, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as stiles inhaled, groaning at how he was met with a damp nose. “anybody else get you this wet, sunshine?” you shook your head eagerly, thighs trembling.
“no, just you. it's always been you.” your response pleased him enough for him to push your panties to the side, a sigh of relief leaving him as he stared at your pussy—at the way your arousal made it shine in the light.
“do i have to prep you, doll?” his question was almost mocking, dripping with insincerity as he used his thumb to toy with your clit, rubbing aggressive circles into it as your moisture piled up. you shook your head through your moans, back arching into his touch. you needed more of him.
“spread your legs wider,” he ordered. you obliged, spreading them as much as you could, your pussy on display for him. “good fucking girl.”
when you felt his tip against your entrance, you knew you were in for a treat. he didn't bother putting a condom on, knowing that even if you got pregnant, it could only make him a happier man.
“i'm gonna tell you one thing,” he murmured, his voice steady yet harsh. “i'm gonna breed your fucking pussy, mark my words.” you whined at his words, the idea of birthing his children going straight to your core.
“please, sti,” you begged him, hating the empty feeling that overwhelmed you. “cum inside me, get me pregnant please.”
when he thrusted into you, your vision went black for a good few seconds. he entered you with a loud groan, his eyes glinting with a burning desire that clouded his judgement. you moaned with him, your pussy clenching around his dick like no other. if only he had given you time to get used to the size of it. you pulled at your restraints, pleasure clashing with pain at the foreign size inside you. “s-stiles,” you begged him. “t-too big, please.” your pleads only came off as a joke to him, as he mocked your words.
“it sucks, doesn't it? when i have to put you in your place, split your pussy open?” he smirked at you from above, a dangerous spark in his eyes. “really should've thought about that before leaving the house like a cheap slut.”
tears stung in your eyes, but you couldn't ignore the way your wetness spread at his derogatory tone. it was impossible to ignore, with the way he was pounding into you at an impossible pace, hips slamming against your skin as he used you. he used you. he had turned you into his bitch in heat—screaming for more of his cock that made you delirious. he grabbed your jaw with one hand, breast with another as they began to bounce from his brutality. he watched the way tears spilled down your face from the pain, and he couldn't help the way they made his cock twitch. watching you cry like that had him cumming the first time in a matter of minutes. “keep crying—shit, fuck—cry for me, cry like a little bitch,” your first orgasm followed shortly after, cries of ecstasy passing your lips as you rode out your high. unfortunately, stiles wasn't planning on stopping.
the overstimulation was too much. stiles had himself on top of you, his legs spread farther apart in order to thrust into you at an animalistic pace, even faster and harder than the first time. you sobbed, sweaty hair sticking to your skin. he groped every part of your body, leaving bruises on your tits, waist and ass as he fucked you stupid. “come on, gorgeous, i know you've got another one for me,” he practically snarled, pounding into your sweet pussy as he thumbed your clit with a loose finger. you were so close, you could feel it. “it's too much, stiles, i can't,” you sobbed, but he wasn't having any of it.
“can you feel it? the way i'm fucking all this cum back into your little pussy?” the cum from his first orgasm had slipped out by a few drops, but he was right, it was all fucked back into you during your second round. “no one's gonna fucking touch you after i'm done with you. you're gonna be my little whore.”
“i'm all yours, sir,” you cries as his hands found its way around your throat. he gave your throat a squeeze, watching the way you moaned with your head back, boobs bouncing from the sheer force of his overpowering thrusts. “i'm your dirty whore and no one else's.”
when his thrusting reached a pace that seemed inhumane, you felt your second orgasm washing over you. you had to close your eyes to brace yourself for when it came, but when it did, it was twice as good as the first. you moaned when you squirted, juices coating his dick as it began to throb aggressively inside you, a string of curses leaving his mouth as hs held onto your tits, lips parting as he finally came a second time. he came loudly, thick, hot spurts of his cum filling you up twice in a row.
when he pulled out, he could only watch in satisfaction at the sight of your pussy overflowing with his cum.
you were worn out, an empty feeling striking you as you locked eyes with stiles. he couldn't help but smile at you, planting a kiss on your forehead.
in each other's arms, you found solace—a solace that resonated with the knowledge that, even in the heart of darkness, love could thrive.
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tremere-chantry · 2 months
Text
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A severed arm
Melee Combat Requirement - 4 Damage Potential - 16 Lethality - 9 Feat Adjustment - -1 Base Damage - 2
Although the previous owner probably misses it, you can still put it to good use.
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henycavil · 1 year
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DYLAN O’BRIEN as STILES STILINSKI Teen Wolf (2011 - 2017) | Lies of Omission
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madalenadrops · 3 months
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TRIGGER WARNING!!:
SCOPOPHOBIA
Spoiler Warning! (Hidden audios)
👁 👁
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“…I can’t hear you …Do you know who I am? We’ve looked into each other's eyes
so many times. You’re looking at me now."
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youaremyhome · 4 months
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Pieces of the Night: Synapses Between the Stars
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Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!
Notes: 4.0K ya'll I cannot apologize enough for how long it's been! I won't bore you with the mess of my life but just know i am continuing this story with love and excitement. thank you to everyone who is still reading and for being patient with me!! love ya ❤️
Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou@malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business@watersquirtpewpewboomm@magnificantmermaid@mk15x@abbybarnesstuff@lavenderhue@dirtytomatoedwrites @gothamlovr91 @skel-skell @hiddencurator @luvmatchamilktea
@palmwinemami @e-spexially
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 
The threat lingers in the air like a bad odor. Your face scrunches up with more tears as you reluctantly nod. A child-like fear encapsulates over you, fingers slowly untwisting from his pants. Rafe’s half hard as you find comfort in his pacifying touches, his hands massaging down your scalp to the nape of your neck.
As much as he’d love to stay in this moment, the tackiness on his dick is uncomfortable so Rafe tucks it in with a zip. He urges you up, but you give a small wince. Rafe hums questioningly, following your eyes down to the trickle of blood at your right knee.
“Oh, Angel. You’ve hurt yourself.”
Directing you down in a chair, he parallels your descent into taking a knee before you. Your palms wipe clumsily at your soaked cheeks, skin irritated from the salt and constant rubbing.
A small shard of glass pokes from the hard base of your knee, embedded from the hardwood floors. Dark red borders the clear glass, tinting it an ombre of maroon as it spreads itself. Running a hand up the curve of your calf, his fingers knead at the fat and muscle there. With his other hand, he pinches his thumb and index together to pull the fingernail-sized glass out. It plinks on the table.
Rafe pouts up at you, jutting out his lower lip before kissing your shin right at the end of the blood trail where it fattens like a dew drop. The taste of your essence seeps through his lips and nourishes his soul. Flattening his tongue, he slides it up to the wound and leaves an imprinted bloody shape of his mouth there. He thinks of clowns, the ocean, anything to will his dick to stay down, the metallic aftertaste of you marinating all over his tastebuds.
You don’t flinch as Rafe cups your face, hiding it instead in the palm of his hand as you keep crying. You’ve never cried this long before and Rafe wonders if the surge of fluctuating hormones is to blame. Stroking the tears away with his thumbs, you two stay like that for a long moment. Rafe waits patiently until you're fully nestling into his touch, allowing him to lean in closer and smell the shampoo of your hair as it tickles his nose.
Though he does love your crying, the best part of it is the aftermath. Where your mind is drained from the climax of emotion, a shaky little thing made to be wrapped up and taken care of.
He coos your name with gentleness, with forgiveness. Kissing along your face to clean up your tears, your puffy lips are malleable against his. Pulling back with a small smile, he checks over your splotchy face. Squishing your cheeks together to purse your lips, he kisses you again. It's a mockery of a true kiss. Using your docile state to his benefit.
Carefully, Rafe stands up to lead you toward your bedroom. With one step, there’s a dull stab at the sole of his foot. Lifting his foot up and to the side, the yellow kitchen light reflects off the culprit. More glass. Flicking it off, he detours you to the couch instead, bundles you back up in blankets, and takes a step away. A pull to his shirt stops him.
You look like you hate yourself for asking in a hoarse voice, “Where’re you going?”
His chest swells. Rafe thumbs at the apple of your cheek. “Goin’ to clean up, baby. Relax now, alright?”
With an approving nod, Rafe starts to scan the floor. Following it like breadcrumbs in an exploding trail of broken glass, his gaze is led to the opposite wall stained dark with rivets collecting down to the baseboard. The water has mostly contained itself to the site of the explosion, glass escaping all the way into the dining room and under the table for refuge.
His rose-tinted hue mutes into stark colors of remembrance.
Of when he was little but always a big brother. Before Rose and when Wheezie was a baby, a time when it was only Ward. Hiding a smaller blonde before himself.
It’s like switching on LED lights, his serenity dissipates into a crumbling headache. Memories attempt to suppress him into the black hole he calls home for days on end, where the craving of something stronger blankets him. Rafe blinks rapidly and then searches for a dustpan. Sweeping is second nature to him, like an instinct he’s forgotten about because now a maid does it.
The twinkling of broken glass is a familiar sound and as all the pieces come back together so does a fear that there’ll be a figure imposing behind him. One that is stronger and angry about the mess. Jerking his head to the side, Rafe finds relief because there is no shadow looming over him, no deep bark of a voice to cower from.
It’s the back of your head. You, right where he left you. Waiting for him.  
He thinks you’ve fallen asleep from how quiet it’s been but when he rounds the corner of the couch you peek up from beneath the blanket. He can’t tell if the tug at his heart is from affection or shame. Propping your legs over his lap, he leans your head against his chest as his arms wrap around you.
It’s strange and silent. Your face is dry now, sniffling every so often as you tiredly cuddle him. Seeking comfort from the emotional edging he’s provoked today. Rafe rubs your arm and leg with periodic squeezing. Nose borrowing into your hair he pecks kisses there, a warm buzz tickles the tip of his nose.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe’s voice cracks. You feel breakable in his arms. “sorry, sorry, sorry…”
The front door closing wakes Rafe up in limbo. There’s a kink in his neck, warm with the weight of you on him. Multiple footsteps sound, coming closer until there’s a halt and hushing.
“Aw, look at them.” Is whispered before there’s a shuttering click.
“Andi, shut up, you’ll wake them.”
As the presence of your roommates’ fade and so does his consciousness, Rafe knows he’ll do anything to keep you like this.
🌙
The first day of spring break is unlike any other Rafe has ever experienced.
Last year this time, he was in his family’s house in the Bahamas with endless coke and flowing booze, and dozens of college kids roamed free in the sprawling mansion. Now, he’s with Ward going over the plans of construction and the partners included.
And oh, isn’t it a delicious surprise to be standing in front of your father. Shaking his hand with a professional smile. The same one he used a day before to shake his fingers into your soaking cunt, making you squirt for the first time. It was the best parting gift you could’ve given him.
Did you know your father would be here?
“Rafe…” Your father’s eyes shine with slight recognition. “You have class with my daughter, don’t you?”
“Yes sir, I do. She’s a very smart girl.”
Rafe knows it’s not the right time to indulge how well he knows you, so he lets the topic slip past. He scrutinizes your father in the initial meeting between the three of them. He speaks highly of his work, the people he’s worked with, and his family. A soft confidence that doesn’t command respect but receives it naturally. Ward boasts about the many properties he owns on the island, how he’s benefited the community and the people that look up to him, calls Rafe his ‘right-hand man’. It annoyingly pleases Rafe, even if this is the first major project Ward’s let him in on.
Presenting himself with respect to your dad is a top priority. Uses his good ol’ southern charm.  Shows obedience while inserting his ideas in meetings, makes nauseating small talk during lunches. Throughout the week, Rafe homes in on impressing your father while his own falls into the background. Once prayed-for compliments from Ward are forgotten words now that your father laughs at his jokes, slaps his shoulder in comradery. After too many, sirs and Mr.’s your dad insists that Rafe call him by his college old nickname, Cruiser.
He almost can’t believe how good the week goes. Rafe stays (mostly) sober. Ward doesn’t belittle him. Your father announces that he’ll be staying in the OBX for the summer.
That little tidbit doesn’t reveal itself until the end when Ward schedules a tee time to celebrate the success of a good partnership.
Weak rays of the morning sun cast long shadows. The humidity gathering warns of warmer weather later, giving the perfect excuse to hydrate with beer. It’s all play and no business. Your father is a chatty man as Rafe lines up with his club to the ball.
They’re on the 8th hole and Rafe has a good buzz, enjoying the game. The times he’s played with his dad in the past had been riddled with competitiveness, dampening the mood each time. Your dad absorbs that attention as he’s been parring better than Ward. It's entertaining to watch Ward struggle to trap down that ugly streak. Rafe could care less about scores and the like, he appreciates that Cruiser personally invited him to play with them.
“…Lauren’ll be off somewhere doing whatever. Wife’s excited to come back,” Cruiser takes a pull of beer and says your name, “She’s so busy with school I haven’t had much chance to ask her.”
Rafe’s ears twitch. Widening his feet again, he arcs the club up slow…
“But I think she’ll enjoy the summer here.”
The twitch in his shoulders is to blame for the bad shot, hitting the ball too high and not far enough.
Rafe mutters a swear into his shoulder, wiping his chin there. He steps away with a casual shrug, switching with Ward to stand next to your dad.
“So, uh…ya’ll be here for the whole summer or until the projects finished?”
“I like to stick around until the project's done.” Rafe becomes conscious of the fact he’s staring at him when Cruiser side-eyes Rafe. “Not too sure what her plans are after graduation, but it’ll be nice to have her here for a bit.”
Ward butts in. “And the Mrs. okay with it? What about her job?”
“Oh, Cotton doesn’t work.” Cruiser only refers to his wife as Cotton. And here Rafe thought his family had weird names. “We’ve been doing this sorta thing for about ten years now. She likes it. Seeing the country with my girls is my favorite time of the year.”
“Hm.” Ward’s eyes gleam with longing. “Wish my daughters took more interest in hanging out with me.”
Rafe rolls his eyes, taking a swig of his beer to hide it. It’s a practiced move he’s learned to perfect over the years. He can’t prod into the subject of you now with Ward sugaring it up into parenthood.
“How’d ya’ll meet?” Rafe asks with strained politeness.
“In undergrad through mutual friends. She was the sweetest thing to everyone but wouldn’t give me the time of day.” Cruiser laughs heartily.
“Playin’ hard to get,” Ward jabs in.
Your dad shakes his head, laughter tailing off into a scoff. Rafe doesn’t think Ward notices the dismissal, too busy dicking around with practice swings. “Just had to prove myself to her…”
Ward gets a nice shot in, staying in his pose as he watches the ball sail and then land in a sand pit. Rafe would’ve laughed if his interest wasn’t already pinned somewhere else.
“How’d you do that?” Rafe asks as he adjusts his cap.
Ward cocks his head in Rafe’s direction with an inquisitive eye as he steps away from the tee. Cruiser goes to his golf bag, skimming around the many clubs. He carries himself with loose movements and talks as he decides on which club to use.
“I could tell you all sorts of things, son.” Sliding one out, he gives it a short toss-up in the air then catches it. “Most important of them: compromise.”
“Compromise?”
Is he sure he wants to get dating advice from your father?
“All there’s to it. That simple.” He confirms, correcting the white ball to stay on the tee. With ease he lines himself up, stance relaxed with loose hands. “I’m from the east coast, wife’s from the middle of the Midwest. So, after graduation, we stayed in California. That’s compromise.”
He takes a few faux swings, whistling a tune like Rafe isn’t hanging off his every word. Cruiser sways his hips playfully as he says, “You shift from one side to the other until…”
The strike of the ball is unexpected, soaring into an arc surpassing Wards. The ball bounces twice on the green, yards away from the hole.  
“Balance.”
🌙
You’re wearing a skirt today. It makes Rafe's jaw tick.
Once the weather started warming with the southern sun, you had worn a skirt to class. A modest thing just above your knees and plain, paired with a light sweater. How did you not expect Rafe to concentrate solely on it throughout class? To walk his fingers on your bare thigh, hook his knuckles to tug at the fabric. It wasn’t his fault that it fits you so perfectly with a flouncy hem and fitted waist. Every guy loved those kinds of skirts on girls, coy and causally hot. How could he resist such a sight?
But ever since that one instance, you hadn’t worn it since, not until now. Not until he skipped class because he arrived home late from Kildare and texted you that he wouldn’t be there to walk you to and from class.
He’s glad he changed his mind.
Catching a glimpse of you unguarded is rare nowadays. Sometimes, Rafe just likes to look. Look at the way your hair slips down, look at how your face wrinkles with your animated expressions. You make it hard to just look when you know he is. You morph into a rabbit, frozen with the instincts that a predator is watching. Still but poised to run.
Now, your shoulders are down with a smile as you exit the lecture hall with two girls. The skirt bounces with each step, a lively flap against your thighs.
“Hi, baby.”
The soft greeting has you drawn to a stop as Rafe slinks into your path, hidden by the stone pillar that leads into a small courtyard between halls. You’re flanked by the girls, overlapping chatter halting into one note.
“…Hi.”
It’s halfhearted but your voice is so much sweeter in person than over the phone. He recognizes the girls from the lecture. It seems like you’ve made friends in his absence. The three of you do that secret language of girl eye contact, one nudging you with a smile before they’re both bidding goodbyes, walking off without you.
Rafe likes you doe-eyed and alone. Lips chapped from the morning wind. You stand a foot away like you’ve been melded into the concrete.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you, o’course. I like your skirt.”
Rafe reaches out, tugging on the end of your skirt towards him with a melted smirk. Your resistance raises the hem, more skin bared as the skirt becomes more horizontal than vertical. The arousal in him amplifies as he pulls and pulls, your feet tripping twice as you’re forced into his space. He ends your cute protests with a kiss, lips warm against yours. The return of pressure from your lips thrills him.
“How was your spring break?” The ‘without me’ is swallowed down.  
“You should know…you only called me every day.” Tilting your head, your face is flat except for the tiny pull at the corner of your mouth.
Rafe kisses it, humming into your skin hoping to transfer the static that’s in his veins back to you. He pats small kisses over to your lips while one hand cups the side of your neck as the other scoops under the strap of your backpack, sliding it down your shoulder. Taking your backpack after class had become a habit born from preventing you from escaping. He slangs it on his shoulder to then intertwine his hands with yours. The ability to lock you in is a bonus.
“Is that so bad?”
“Y–”
“Aren’t you goin’ to ask ‘bout mine?”
You sigh. “How was your break, Rafe?”
“Oh, thank you for asking Angel. It was great. Saw old friends, surfed a bit.” Rafe watches your eyes glaze over to the left. “Met your dad.”
Your hand spasms in his. Your eyes snap back into place. It isn’t surprise or shock or unknown information you’ve been granted to coloring your face. It’s the dawning light of a premonition come true.
“You knew.”
Rafe’s voice is tight. The unexpected indigitation that flames his chest hurts more than burns. He anticipated this. Why he didn’t tell you over the phone about it, waited until he was face to face. You weren’t the best liar with his eyes pinned on you. His fingers mirror yours with strength until a whimper’s trapped behind your lips.  
“Yes.” Your voice is breathy. “I knew.”
“Any reason you didn’t tell me?”
“Many.”
“Cut the shit,” Rafe says your name with severity.
You puff out with annoyance that’s mounting to match his. Students pass by, rounding around the blockade you form on the sidewalk. One does a double take at Rafe’s curse. Grunting, he turns and marches into the empty courtyard towing you behind.
He should drop it. Wait until after he fucks you to bring it up.
But you knew.
A nag he should ignore eats at him until there’s only anger and hurtful pride. You’re still looking for a way out.
Snatching your hand away, you growl back at him with shoulders rising to your ears. Arms crossed at your chest and feet shuffle in place. Rafe ranks nails against his scalp, eyes ping-ponging along your face.
“This why you were a brat before I left?”
After the argument and the weeks leading up to spring break, you had continued questioning about Ward and his work. An anxious energy you radiated as it came closer. Rafe pegged you excited about him leaving.
The flick of your head to the side is the only verification he needs. You were expectant of their reunion.
“You didn’t…” You bite your lip. “Say anything to him, right?”
“No, I didn’t. Cause you’re gonna tell him.”
Your eyes widen until your lashes are practically in your eyebrows. Throwing your arms out to the side with closed fists, you lean with a shout. “Like the fuck I am.”
Rafe pitches your backpack behind him. Tension knots at the base of his neck, dragging a hand to roughly rub at it.
He keeps his voice flat. “When we go to Kildare, you can tell him yourself.”
“Oh-ho,” Your laughter is short and biting. “I am not going back there.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And you're so sure of this? How?” Your hip juts to the side, a hand propping on there to anchor yourself.
“Cause of that cute lil’ family tradition you got there.”
Your hand flips around, waving his sentence away. “I am a grown-ass person, Rafe. I can do whatever I want! And I want – I’m going back to California.”
You shake your head, the heel of your hand presses at your brow, blocking your vision. Rafe moves. Feet quiet on the concrete as he creeps closer.
“No, ya ain’t.” He seethes.
“I’m going back home after graduation! I’m never setting a foot back in this goddamn state!” You thrust a finger at him, inches from his chest. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Yes, the fuck you are. Or im gonna have to show everyone those pictures –”
The squeal abrupts from you, high pitched and echoing. “I don’t care! I don’t care anymore! Show whoever you want. I’ll be far away from you anyways.”
Rafe grits his teeth, molars threatening to grind into dust. Tilting his head up and shoulders down, he fights for eye contact as he works his jaw.
“And I don’t care what I have to do to fucking keep you.”
“I’m not some stray you can scoop up and lock in a cage.” Eyes narrowed and lip curled up, you push at his shoulder.
“Hm, a cage. That’s a good idea, baby.”
Lips thin in a tight line, he taps your check twice. He can’t help the dark amusement that tickles him when you jump in your skin, arms lashing out awkwardly.  
“Argh! You are so insufferable. After graduation you are never seeing me again, I promise you that Rafe.”
“Either you go with me, or I go with you.” Rafe starts circling you. Board body casting a shadow over you at every angle. You stay in place but swivel your head around to keep him in your sight. An airy touch of his hand has you flinching, him smiling. “You really want to be alone with me on the other side of the country? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“You’re goin’ to be working.” Your mouth gapes open. “Your dad will-“
“What, what? What will my dad do, Angel? You don’t know my dad. I can have him postpone this construction for fuckin’ months, years. Bleed your dad fuckin’ dry –”
“You can’t do shit. Your little power here doesn’t reach everywhere, neither does your dads.”
“You don’t know what my dad is capable of.” Rafe pokes his finger at your collarbone. “Clearly, you don’t understand what I’m capable of. Think of your sister, how would she feel if she can’t use daddy’s money to travel anymore?”
“You can’t –”
“Your dad loves his job so much, you really gonna take that away from him? Ruin your parents’ marriage? And your poor mom…”
Shoulders bounce against one another as you whirl as you growl. “Don’t talk about my mom.”
“Her sensitive little heart would be destroyed with all that grief.”
Rafe saturates you with too many words, too many worries to catch up to any of them. Circling again to face you, he twists his fist into your skirt. Hauls you closer until the hem’s dangerously high, giving him a glance at your black panties.
You squeak out his name, one hand on his bulging forearm as the other struggles to lower your skirt back down.
“I can take you right here. I don’t give a fuck if anyone sees me.” His hand dips to the inviting black curtain. Finger creasing between your seam, Rafe rubs it back and forth. “And I’d get away with it.”
Your chin wavers with failed words, body taunt from leaning back. A moment of silence as his promises solidify in your mind. A breath away from crumbling
Fists strike on his chest, a snarling show of teeth as you curse and fight in his hold. Calling him every name under the sun. A tantrum if he’s ever seen one. Your knee hits his thigh, missing your true target of his groin so Rafe spins you, bear hugging you in restraint.
“Pick one.” Rafe hisses in your ear, forehead pressed to your temple. “California or Outer banks.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’d drag you down with me.” He chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear.
Your head knocks at his chin as you give another thrash. Breathing compressed with his hold, you tire in mere minutes.
“Fuck!” A final shout. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Mm, go where?” The teasing tilt rolls off with victory.
“I’ll go to Outer Banks with you, you fucking prick.” Rafe loosens his arms just so, allowing you to twirl away with a heaving chest. Cheeks red and pointing a finger at him. “Until the end of the summer.”
Rafe scoffs, tapping at his chest. “Until I say.”
“When the jobs done.”
“Six months.”
“Deal.”
Both of you sigh rough and loud. Rafe feels a vein in his neck pulse with each luh-dub of his heart. Cracking his neck to the side frees a smile from him.
“See, sweetheart, I knew we’d be able to compromise.”
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