#“oh god hes touching me hes touching me and looking at me and TOUCHING ME WHAT DO I DO HES STARING AT ME WITH HIS EYEBALLS HELP ME” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugoroo · 1 day ago

Text

#MAKE HIM BEG (FOR THAT P☆SSY!)

ʚɞ summary. how the jjk men look when they beg for it. are they reluctant as they force the words out or pathetic as they whine for it? . . . ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso + sukuna.

warnings. fem!reader, pussydrunk men of course, oral (f receiving), masturbation, penetration (p in v), riding, mating press, sukunas inspired by that one scene in wolf of wall street yupp, 18+ mdni.

SATORU GOJO — BREAKS IN NO TIME!

satoru may spend a short while attempting to defy your orders to beg for what he wants, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away with a petulant pout pushing at his lips.

but with you sitting there oh-so-temptingly next to him on the bed clad in nothing but a fuzzy pink nightgown and looking so painfully beautiful, god is it hard to keep up his childish stubbornness.

just look at it from his point of view for a moment... he's the strongest; he shouldn't have to plead with anyone for anything, right? hell, one could even argue that you should be the one begging him to lay his hands on you.

but if he's being completely honest with himself, he doesn't quite feel like the strongest whenever he's with you — no, it's the opposite, in fact... you make him weak.

weak enough that he's willing to throw caution to the wind and abandon his infamous prideful streak entirely to beg for you.

"please." satoru mumbles under his breath, like a child finally apologizing to their parent after being sent to the corner and thinking about what they've done for the appropriate amount of time.

"what was that, toru?" you hum teasingly, raising an eyebrow and stretching your leg out to poke his thigh with your recently pedicured foot. "i didn't quite hear you."

the white-haired man groans dramatically, peering over at you with his wide, uncovered cerulean eyes. he's needy; you can see it dancing clearly in his irises — but you're not about to let him off the hook that easily.

"can you say it again for me, hmm?" you prompt in a tone just dripping with exaggerated sweetness as you slowly drape your leg across his lap, relishing in the way his pale hands visibly twitch at his sides with the desire to touch it.

your boyfriend looks like he's mere moments away from lighting up a hollow purple as he fixes his stare upon your leg, refusing to look anywhere near your own eyes as he forces out another, more desperate, "please."

"good boy," you praise as a reward, watching with bemusement as satoru tries to cover up the way the two simple words affect him. but you know him too well, and the subtle squirm of his hips against your leg gives him away. "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

satoru grumbles a few retorts under his breath, but quickly loses his train of thought when you lift your leg from his lap, slowly spreading both limbs to expose the sheer panties you'd adorned especially for tonight.

"oh, baby," he groans from low in his throat, pupils dilating at an alarming speed as his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly chapped lips. "look at you..."

"just look?" you repeat cheekily, tilting your head to the side as you observe his completely transfixed reaction — it's almost laughable how easily you can break him down into a pathetic mess. "you don't wanna touch even after you begged so nicely for me?"

"n-no!" satoru shoots back without missing a beat, mop of messy white locks bobbing as he frantically shakes his head from side to side. "i wanna touch, pretty girl. i really wanna touch... can i?"

you barely have time to nod before your boyfriend is between your spread legs, effortlessly pushing them even further apart as he buries his head exactly where he wants it to be — right up against the slick crotch of your translucent underwear.

and he's utterly drunk on everything about your pussy in moments; the tempting scent of your gushing arousal that wafts through the material as he rubs his nose against it, the way the see-through fabric sticks to your skin and allows him a perfect view of your puffy folds.

"so gorgeous." satoru mutters reverently, lovesick eyes flicking up to meet yours as his freakishly long tongue lolls out to lick a slow, thorough stripe up the soiled front of your panties.

you're not sure who moans louder; him or you. all you do know is that it doesn't take long for his eager mouth to be directly over your cunt, ruined underwear tossed somewhere nearby without a second thought.

"y'should... make me work for it... more often, baby," he pants against you between obnoxious slurps and frequent groans of enjoyment at your saccharine flavour. "somehow, it makes this pretty pussy taste even sweeter."

SUGURU GETO — TURNS THE TABLES ON YOU!

suguru has no problem in indulging you if you want to switch things up in the bedroom every now and again. you want him to beg for you? sure, he can do that.

...because he knows that the roles will be reversed soon enough.

so when you pull him away from your gushy cunt by his hair after he's just spent the last few blissful hours down there coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your writhing body, he's waiting patiently for whatever you want to say.

"if you want to be inside me next... you have to beg for it," you say breathlessly, trailing your fingers from the back of his silky, loose hair down to the nape of his neck and squeezing. "can you do that for me, sugu?"

suguru pretends to consider it for a moment, tilting his head to the side and peering up at you with thoughtful violet eyes. after a few moments, he responds. "hmm... i see no reason why i can't."

your surprise is evident on your face at just how quickly he agreed — when you first decided you wanted to try this, you assumed it would take atleast a little bit of convincing to get him to go along with it.

...but apparently not.

"wow. um... just like that?" you chuckle in a soft puff of startled air, eyebrows raised as you watch him stand up from his knees and rest his large hands over your bare thighs.

"what? did you expect me to put up a fight or something, baby?" suguru purrs gently, leaning down so his face is inches from yours, hot breaths mingling together. "nah. my girl's pretty pussy is worth begging for, don't you think?"

you swallow thickly, his sultry words making a gush of arousal ooze onto the sheets beneath you as your eyes briefly flick down to his lips which are still swollen and shiny with your juices. "i wouldn't have asked you to if i didn't think so."

he releases a low, velvety laugh at this before slowly spreading your legs wider to make room for himself and crawling onto the mattress to settle between them.

suguru reaches down past the waistband of his grey sweatpants to wrap a tanned hand around his neglected cock, giving it a few pumps while his gaze stays fixed upon your glistening wetness.

and he just keeps doing this for a few long moments, making your body instinctively squirm around in need as you observe his ministrations with an air of impatience. "i-isn't this the part where you're meant to do the begging?" you force out, hoping your voice isn't too audibly uneven.

he simply smiles at this — a lilting, amused little smile that makes you feel like he might know something you don't. "i will, sweetheart. just getting myself ready first."

a few minutes pass, yet he still makes no move whatsoever to start pleading with you; and naturally, you're starting to become more and more restless, itching for something, anything to happen.

then suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, suguru pushes both his sweats and boxers down in one fell swoop, instantly drawing your attention to his thick, veiny cock as it slaps against his toned abdomen, reddened tip angry and drooling from all the teasing he's been doing to it.

and you're so fixated on the sight before you that you hardly even notice when he slyly lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his leaky cockhead around it in slow, infuriating circles.

"w-what are you doing, sugu?" you gasp, brows pinching in a mix of annoyance and pleasure at his deliberately un-coordinated movements; he's working you up on purpose... but why?

"nothing." suguru hums entirely innocently, blinking down at you with an air of nonchalance that doesn't fail to irk you.

for a while, silence falls between you as you both gaze intently at where your bodies are connected — so close to becoming one but not quite there yet.

and then, the somewhat tranquil moment is suddenly snapped into a thousand tiny pieces by the loud, wet slap! of your boyfriend's flushed tip slapping against your cunt.

and it makes you release a pitiful cry, needy hips instinctively bucking up against him in search of more friction. but he abruptly pulls away before your skin can touch again, still sporting that strange smile.

"you want something, pretty girl?" suguru croons in a deceptively sweet tone, reaching down to trail a slender finger down the supple skin of your tummy and relishing the way your hips buck again in response.

"y-yes," you whine pathetically, too desperate to be full of him to even process how this situation has somehow been turned completely on its head in mere minutes. "please, sugu... need you."

"thereee we go... who's the one begging now, hm?" he chuckles loudly, eery smile finally widening into the smug grin he's evidently been holding back this whole time. "see what i did there?"

"...i hate you."

"no you don't, baby."

and he's right; you don't. and when he distracts you by finally, finally beginning to ease himself inside your throbbing heat, you think maybe the tables being turned on you wasn't such a bad thing after all.

TOJI FUSHIGURO — YOU'LL HAVE TO WEAR HIM DOWN!

“—you want me to what?” toji grunts in response, a thick dark eyebrow raised in exasperation as he looks at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“you heard me perfectly fine, toji.” you huff with a small roll of your eyes. of course he isn't going to make this easy for you. he never does.

“you seriously want me to beg to fuck that needy little cunt of yours?” he scoffs loudly, jabbing a finger in the direction of your dripping core as if to prove his point. “i think you should be the one begging me to do that, dollface.”

“that’s what i do every night already,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest and observing the way he simply shrugs in response. “we’re trying something different this time.”

“oh, are we now?” toji drawls mockingly, tilting his head to the side and eyeing you with a bemused half-smile tugging at his scarred lips. “and what makes you so sure i’ll even agree to go along with this, hm?”

“well… because if you don’t, then you get no pussy tonight.” you counter in a decisive hum, closing your legs and sealing yourself away from his view.

“really? that's the best y'got?” he snorts obnoxiously, waving a dismissive hand in your direction and turning his head back to the television screen at the end of the bed as if to showcase how unaffected he is by your threat.

toji may be stubborn as a mule, but so are you; which is a good thing because it means you work well together, but a bad thing (for him) because it means that two can play at this little game he’s started.

so while he pretends his attention is solely fixed on whatever is quietly playing on the tv, you not-so-subtly begin sliding a hand down the length of your body, eyeing him carefully for any signs of a reaction.

you know you’re making progress when he covers up the way a groan threatens to rumble from deep in his throat when he notices your hand finishing its descent and disappearing between your legs by clearing his throat into his fist.

he holds out for quite a while, honesty. it must be taking a herculean effort on his part not to snap when you begin releasing shameless moans and gasps of pleasure right beside him, coupled with the lewd squelching sounds emanating from your cunt.

but toji is just a man, after all — and one that is not used to being denied what he wants, at that. so it's not long at all before he breaks, practically ripping his clothes to shreds in his haste to be inside of you right now.

you stop him before he can line himself up with your entrance by placing a hand on his bare chest, a victorious smile pulling at your lips as you tilt your head to the side. "forgetting something, big man?"

"huh? oh, y'mean a condom? sorry, baby, 'm all out." he mutters while shooting an apologetic grin in your direction, quickly turning his focus back to pushing his gushing tip towards your fluttering hole.

"no, not that," you chuckle in bemusement, giving his chest a light shove to stop his advances yet again. "i'm fairly certain i said no pussy for you unless you beg for it, didn't i?"

toji's grin falls comically fast, replaced by a small scowl of annoyance as he leans back on his haunches. damn it, he'd been foolish to hope you would've forgotten about that already.

"jesus christ, fine... please?" he forces out with about as much enthusiasm as a young child about to go to their first day back at school after a long vacation, the words coated in bitterness as they fall from his tongue.

"alright, i see you don't really want it then, so i'll just see myself out—"

"fuck no, you're not going anywhere, dollface," toji grunts before you can even take a single step towards the door, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and effortlessly pulling you down onto his lap. "i'll even beg all proper for ya, okay? please can i have you, mama?"

"...i suppose." you respond with a small smile, trying to hold back the smugness threatening to bubble up into your tone as you realize that your little plan actually worked.

but as per usual, you end up being the one begging for more once toji starts bouncing your pliant body up and down on his fat, curved cock that just fills you up so good.

...no surprises there.

CHOSO KAMO — BEGS ALREADY (A LOT!)

choso has absolutely no problem being pathetic for you.

he feels that it's a blessing just being able to exist in your mere presence, so it's only fair that if he wants anything more than that then he should ask nicely, right?

he has no idea why anyone wouldn't get down on their knees and beg for the privilege of getting to touch someone as pretty as you, especially when you walk into the bedroom in nothing but one of his oversized shirts.

"baby..." choso mutters quietly, voice already slightly whiny as he watches you perch yourself on the edge of the bed he was lazily sprawled across before your entrance.

"hmm?" you hum, feigning obliviousness, as you peer at him over your shoulder — and oh, is he adorable like this. all pale, blushing cheeks and an involuntary pout pushing at his full lower lip.

"you look so pretty right now," he murmurs quietly but sincerely as his wide chestnut eyes trail over your form with barely concealed reverence dancing in his irises. "...w-well, i mean, you always look pretty. but especially right now." he adds for good measure.

"why thank you," you respond with a soft smile, reaching out to lightly trail your fingertips across the distance of his sharp jawline and relishing in the way his entire body visibly shivers as a result. "is there by any chance something you want, cho?"

choso audibly gulps at the gentle and knowing tone of your voice, letting his eyes flutter closed for a few beats before opening them again. "m-maybe."

"maybe?" you repeat in a light chuckle, raising an eyebrow and grasping his chin between your thumb and forefinger to make sure his gaze stays directly fixed upon you. "i know you can do better than that, baby. c'mon, use your words for me."

his pouting lower lip trembles ever so slightly at your coaxing words, the rapidly growing bulge in his sweatpants twitching violently in a way that borders on painful in response. "want y-you."

"hmm... better, i suppose. but still not good enough." you tut in disappointment, removing your touch from his chin entirely and observing the way he chases after your hand with silent amusement.

slowly crawling across the mattress, you perch yourself upon his lap before the poor boy can even process what's happening, placing your hands over his hipbones to stop his inevitable squirming.

"if you want something, you have to be specific," you drawl in a low, sultry caress of a tone, languidly rolling forward against the not-so-subtle hardness you can feel beneath your ass. "now... tell me, cho, what is that you want?"

choso appears to be mere moments away from bursting into a fit of tears at your teasing movement, his pale hands clenching into white-knuckled fists against the bedsheets as he peers up at you pleadingly through the messy strands of dark hair that have fallen across his forehead.

"i-i want you to... to fuck me," he murmurs timidly, each syllable audibly shaking with embarrassment as it leaves his mouth. no matter how many times the two of have been intimate in the past, he still remains as shy as ever. "please."

"thereee we go," you coo warmly, hands giving his hips a gentle squeeze in reward for his obedience. "didn't even have to ask you to beg, hmm? you did it all on your own like a good boy."

choso merely nods furiously, his desperate facial expression doing all the talking for him as you lift your body up for a moment to tug his sweatpants (which are already decorated with a small pre-cum stain) down.

it's not long before you're settled atop his needy, pulsing cock, unable to resist his repeated adorable whimpers and mewls to feel you around him — and oh, does it feel better when you've teased him just a little beforehand.

he's going feral within seconds, pulling your pliant body down to his face practically suffocate himself with your pillowy tits while he ruts up into like an animal in heat.

as you brace yourself for a bumpy ride, you can't but think that if there's one thing you never have to worry about with choso as your boyfriend, it's him refusing to beg for you.

...but what you do have to worry about is the very real possibility of him bruising your cervix with how deep his relentless thrusts are reaching.

RYOMEN SUKUNA — KINGS DO NOT BEG... RIGHT?

ryomen sukuna is the king of curses. and, coincidentally, last time he checked; kings do not beg.

so when you have the sheer audacity to ask him to plead with you for the mere privilege of getting to touch your mortal cunt, to say he is outraged would be a dire understatement.

“absolutely not.” sukuna grunts firmly, crimson eyes narrowing in annoyance as he waves a dismissive hand in your direction, the action not dissimilar to what he would've to one of his old concubines when he was finished with them.

but you're irritatingly persistent, refusing to let the matter go for the entire duration of the night as if you truly believe there's a chance you can break his ironclad resolve.

"you must be deluded beyond comprehension to think i would ever stoop so low as to—" he begins to grumble, but for some reason, finds the end of his sentence disappearing from his mind when he lays eyes upon what you're currently doing.

there you sit, at the foot of his throne, skirt pushed up to reveal the lack of... well, anything underneath as you shamelessly sprawl your legs apart to give him an unobstructed view of your sweet cunt.

"fuck, woman," sukuna practically growls, the sound guttural and raw as it escapes from deep in his throat. he shifts subtly in his seat, craning his neck downward to get a better look at you. "what on earth do you think you're doing?"

"who, me?" you hum, feigning complete obliviousness as you slowly but surely lift a leg up and press the end of your high heel against the arm of his throne.

"yes, you," he scoffs incredulously, crossing his tattooed arms over his chest and attempting to continue remaining unaffected by your little display. "do you see anyone else in here flashing me their bare pussy?"

you make a show of glancing over both shoulders before turning back and shaking your head with a mock-innocent smile stretching at your lips. "huh. you're right, looks like i'm the only one."

sukuna only responds with an unamused grunt at your childish antics, the sound quickly melting into a rough groan when you lift up your other leg as well, body now entirely open and just ripe for the taking.

he finds himself instinctively reaching out a thick hand before he even realizes what he's doing, only for you to pin it down with the end of your heel without it managing to make contact with your skin.

"ah ah," you hum chidingly, tilting your head to the side and peering up at him through fluttering lashes. "you know what you have to do if you want to touch, ryo."

sukuna scowls fiercely, fully aware that he could effortlessly pull his hand from under your shoe and snap your pretty little ankle in half in one swift movement... but he won't do that, of course. (maybe)

he could also just take what he wants right here, right now, without having to humiliate himself by pleading — but he supposes if he's going to do something so utterly unbecoming of himself like begging for someone, it might as well be for you.

so as soon as the pathetic syllables of the word "please" leave his disgruntled mouth, he doesn't wait a single second to pounce on you, easily folding your legs up to your head so your heels frame either side of your face.

"but don't think this little stunt of yours will go unpunished," sukuna mutters gruffly in your ear as he impatiently tugs his robes open. "next time, i'll make you take both my cocks. then you'll be the one begging me; not for more... no, but for me to stop."

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

1K notes · View notes

sematarygirls · 3 days ago

Text

part two here .ᐟ

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe x reader / angst, injury, blood, confusion

You reached out desperately, grabbing for something, anything as you struggled to open your eyes, a sliver of light peeking out from a small gap where your eyelids hadn't quite yet touched your waterline. Your fingers wrapped around an arm, nails digging into soft, warm flesh, probably hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn't really tell, nor did you care enough to worry about it.

You felt like you were underwater, your ears ringing violently and drowning out the muffled sounds of someone calling your name. The only warmth you could feel was bleeding through a gaping wound in your abdomen, making your clothes cling to your skin with a sticky rush of crimson. You vaguely registered the smell of pennies in the air.

"Hey, hey," a voice called frantically, cutting through the fog that had descended over your mind, reality and imagination blurring into one big jumble of pictures. Your head lolled to the side as a palm lightly tapped your cheek. It was warm, so warm. "Look at me, baby, please look at me!"

Were you dead? In a coma? Why couldn't you move?

You knew that voice, but you didn't know how. Come on, open your eyes! You willed yourself. You had to know who was calling you. You had to see the face of the man that was keeping you from slipping into a blissful sleep. Maybe you had to even slap this disembodied voice for so rudely interrupting the dream you were having about finding gold with your best friends.

"That's it, baby. There you go," the voice coaxed you, a mix of relief and panic lacing their tone as your eyes started to flutter open.

You winced at the light. You were looking directly up at the sky, a halo of sun surrounding the man hovering above you. Was he... an angel?

He leaned in closer, his head blocking out the brightness and allowing you to make out his features. A sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, a mess of brown hair falling down around his face. He wasn't an angel. You knew him. He was in your dream, the treasure hunting dream.

Your brows furrowed as you stared up at him, trying to piece together what was going on. That's when a jolt of pain hit you, making you cry out. The man was pressing down on the spot that was leaking warmth from your body, and it really fucking hurt.

Hurt. It hurt. Pain. Warmth. Cold. Sensation. Feeling.

This wasn't a dream, was it? But if this wasn't a dream, then everything you thought was a dream wasn't a dream but real life.

Shot. You remembered being shot in this supposed not-dream. Who shot you?

"You're okay, okay? You're okay." His eyes were wide and glistening with tears, you noted as you slowly started to gain awareness. Focus. You had to focus. You couldn't go out again, that much you knew. Your head was whirling, and you couldn't pinpoint why sleep was bad, but it was. It was very bad.

His hand was shaking as he pressed down on your wound, his other hand reaching out to cup your face. This man had a name. A name that you knew, didn't you? Yes, yes, you definitely knew it, but what was it? Who was he? Was he the one that shot you?

"Stay with me, baby, please, stay with me. Oh god, you're so pale. Say something, baby. Anything, please, just- just say something for me." He was rambling, clearly panicking. If he was the one that shot you, he needed a lesson in homicide because he was not doing a good job.

Baby? He kept calling you baby. Was that... your name? No, that didn't sound right. God, what was going on?

Your lips parted, a choked gasp falling from them as you tried to say something, your brain seeming to short circuit on the spot. "Not a dream?" You managed to ask, wincing at the pain. At least you were feeling pain. You were like 99% sure pain was good, but you weren't a doctor... well, you didn't think you were a doctor anyway.

"No, baby, it's not a dream," he said immediately, his fingers curling against your face. He leaned in close, pressing your foreheads together. "Rafe, okay? I'm Rafe. Remember me? Remember my name?"

"Rafe," you echoed, brows pinched in confusion. That was a weird name, but you knew it. You knew a Rafe. This was Rafe? You guessed he looked Rafe enough to be named Rafe.

"God, where is the ambulance?" A female voice exclaimed loudly, her panic was much louder, less subtle than the calm freaking out that Rafe was practicing.

Why was everyone freaking out again? Shot. Shot. You'd been shot, right. Remember that. Remember you'd been shot. But, who the fuck shot you!

You realized that there were voices, multiple voices all in varying degrees of panic, all yelling and clearly very distressed. Were they all worried about you? You didn't know. You couldn't pinpoint what they were saying. It was hard for you to focus on so many things at once right now. You had to pick one thing to keep your mind focused.

The dream. The dream that wasn't a dream? The dream that was real and happening right now? Your treasure hunting friends. They were called something starting with a p. Parrots? That seemed piratey enough to be right, you guessed.

"I'm so tired," the words slipped from your mouth without thinking. You almost didn't register that it was your own voice. Tired, yes. Yes, you were very tired. You were sleeping before this, right? So, maybe sleeping would fix it. That sounded scientific, sort of.

"No, no sleeping, baby. Stay awake, okay?" Rafe was shaking you now, his voice hard, demanding. He was so close, his face right above yours. His hands on you, firm, strong. He was handsome, very handsome. "Look at me."

You looked up at him weakly, your eyes scanning his striking features. You'd touched them before, traced them, mapped his face and committed it to memory, body and mind. You remembered him better now, the fog lifting slightly. He called you baby. That's what boyfriends called their girlfriends. He was your boyfriend?

You had a boyfriend? Damn, go dream, (that's not a dream?) you!

"Good, good, look at me," Rafe encouraged, his eyes never leaving yours, a small smile on his face despite the fear inside him. "You're doing so well, baby. Stay with me, just a little longer. The ambulance is almost here." He was speaking slowly, carefully.

"Attempted murder is not sexy, dream Rafe," you murmured. You decided in that moment to keep calling the situation a dream because you still weren't entirely convinced that it wasn't. Treasure? Getting shot? An unbelievably sexy boyfriend? It all seemed very dreamlike. Besides, the alternative was a mouthful, and you were pretty sure you were gonna pass out soon, so no more words for you.

"What?" Rafe leaned in closer, tilting his head slightly, a crease forming between his brows. "Baby, what did you just say?" He asked softly, his eyes never leaving yours, but your attention had been pulled from him by the sound of sirens blaring in the distance.

You were so tired, and as entertaining as it was to stare at the greek god in front of you—possibly an angel, possibly the man who shot you, the verdict was still out—was, you didn't know how much longer you could keep your eyes open, even as the sirens approached and seemed to infiltrate your brain and make your head shake.

"No, no, no, no, no, look at me, baby, look at me," Rafe was back to shaking you, his face a mask of panic. "Why the fuck aren't they here yet!" He yelled at the parrot people around you, seething with rage as if it was their fault that you had been shot, and the ambulance was taking its sweet time getting to you.

"Shh, it's okayyyy," you reassured him, your words slurring and your hand finally falling away from his arm as your strength fled you. "It's just a dream." You would fall asleep, and then, wake up and everything would be okay.

"No, no, this is not okay, baby. This is very fucking far from okay." Rafe's voice was thick with emotion, his eyes wide and desperate. He was losing you, he could feel it. "Please, please, stay with me. Don't you dare fucking leave me."

"I can't feel anything," you said quietly. This was a dream, right? You were so confused, so tired, so... sad? Were you going to die? You can't die in dreams. You'll just wake up. You will wake up, right?

"You can't leave me," Rafe's voice broke, tears welling up in his eyes. "You're not allowed to leave me. I love you. You hear me? I love you, and you can't just... you can't..." He trailed off, his face a picture of devastation. He had lost a lot in his life—his mother, his father's love, his sister's trust. He turned to drugs and alcohol to cope, which often only sent him farther off the deep end. He was getting clean. He was trying to be better, but he knew he couldn't survive losing you.

For the first time since you could remember (which probably wasn't a feat because time was all jumbled up, and you could barely remember five minutes ago) you were scared. You didn't think this was a dream anymore, which meant that it was real. It really was the dream that wasn't really a dream, and that meant if you died, you were really dead—like, forever dead.

"That's right, baby, stay with me. Look at me. You're not dreaming. This is real. You're really hurt, and I need you to stay with me, okay? Just a little longer. You're so strong, the strongest person I know. You can do this," he urged you, and even though your brain fog made it feel like you'd just met him today, you felt the desire to make him proud, to live to see him again. "Look, the paramedics are here, okay? They're right here. You're gonna be fine. You're not gonna die. You can't. I won't let you."

Die. Death. Not dream death. Real death. Real. Real. Not a dream. You've been shot. Someone shot you. Rafe is here. The parrots—no, no, that's not right—the pogues, the pogues are here. The paramedics are here. But, you're not. You're not gonna die. You're not gonna die a dream death, and you're not gonna die a real death; you're going to live. You have to. You have to live.

There's a reason. You can't remember it, but there's a reason that you have to pull through this.

"I-I love you. I think," you said shakily. It felt right, to say that you loved him. You were pretty sure you did, but then again, you were pretty sure all this was a dream not too long ago. Your thoughts were kind of everywhere and nowhere all at once, but something about him felt right.

"You do love me. And I love you. And that's why you're gonna live. You hear me? You're gonna live because you love me, and I love you. You're my girl, alright? So, you're gonna fight. You're gonna fight for me," he coached you, hyping you up like you were about to go head to head with death in the ring. You think you would've laughed if not for the situation at hand.

He moved to the side of you, holding your hand as the paramedics rushed over, stabilizing you and moving you onto the stretcher. They were spouting out numbers and technical terms that weren't helping your spinning brain. It was like the world was trying to confuse you at this point!

"Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me," Rafe chanted, squeezing your hand as they rushed you to the ambulance. He climbed in with you, not letting go of your hand as they sped off. "You're not gonna die, baby. You're not gonna leave me."

"Shot," you breathed out, trying to get some clarity. "I was shot." One questioning had been bouncing around your brain this entire time: who had shot you? You couldn't remember exactly, but you knew who shot you. You knew whoever it was somehow, but everything was a blur.

"Yes, but it's gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine. It's just one gunshot wound. You're not hit anywhere vital," he lied. You were hit in the abdomen. It was a miracle you were still conscious at all, let alone talking.

"No, no, you're not listening," you urged him, your words slurring together as your eyelids fluttered, struggling to keep them open. "I know who shot me. I-I know who..."

"Shh, don't try to talk. Save your strength. We'll figure it out later," he stopped you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, anger, desperation. He knew something he wasn't telling you.

"Not you, no, no, not you," you mumbled to yourself. It wasn't him. You were certain about that. "But..." Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Think. Think. Who shot you? You knew them. You knew their name. You knew their face. God, it was right there.

A man, it was a man. You knew it was a man, but what man? You couldn't die without knowing. You had to think.

"Listen to me, look at me," he said firmly, his hands gently squeezing your cheeks. "No more talking about who shot you, alright? Just focus on staying awake, stay with me. I'm begging you, just stay awake." He was so frantic. So desperate. Why? Even the paramedics, who were focused on saving your life, could tell that something was off with him.

The ambulance suddenly halted, the paramedics rushing to move you, but you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. The last thing you saw was the guilt in Rafe's eyes and a brief flash of the man who shot you before everything went black.

tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

748 notes · View notes

henrycangelbaby · 3 days ago

Text

Thinking about John Price and his cute little assistant (reader) who ends up pregnant.

A/N: Guys i was inspired while scrolling on the john price x reader tag, this legit came to me as a vision and now i have to write it (I plan on expanding on this idea so just stay with me!!!!)

Imagine being John Price's cute little assistant, just the sweetest little thing that John is kinda obsessed with. Like don't get me wrong she is amazing at her job, smart, put together and well organized and John does feel that her addition has been a positive one, taking some pressure off his shoulders and making sure his team is always prepared for whatever they are doing. She is very good at what she does, but that doesn’t stop John from admiring her. He knows he shouldn't be bit, he can't help it, she's young and sweet and a little bit innocent and he just wants to protect and love her all the time.

In the beginning she was shy, only addressing him as sir and knocking on his door hesitantly whenever she needed to speak to him but gradually their boundaries became less and less. More often than not she works out of his office, whether he’s there or not, he insists on buying her an early lunch when she lets slip that she didn't have breakfast that morning. He has even picked her up from a night out once or twice, a little bit tipsy and calling the most trusted person she can think of that just happened to be her boss. He takes care of her as well, helping her get her makeup and clothes off before tucking her into her bed with a bottle of water and pain killers for the morning. He doesn't mention it when he sees her next, knowing how embarrassed she will be when he tells her the loneliness her tipsy self admitted.

When she starts to get sick John is having absolutely none of it, driving her home and ordering her to take some time off (he even visits later that night to bring her some soup for her stomach). He doesn't expect her to look so sad when she comes back supposedly better from her “flu”, he doesn't expect to see her eyes shine with tears when he asks “what's wrong babygirl?”. He sits them down on the couch in his office together, putting an arm over her and pulling her close for comfort. He certainly does not expect her to look up at him with those shiny wet eyes and admit she did something bad before crying that she's pregnant. It’s news to John who never even considered that his girl would be dating (let alone sleeping with) people. When he vocalizes this and she admits that her baby daddy isn't a very good guy, it's over for John.

Suddenly he's all over her, promising to be there for her, that she can come to him whenever she needs. And he actually means it. Suddenly she’s staying in the spare bedroom in his house, not only does it have more room but John can keep an eye on her. She entirely moves into his office working on his desk with him, he gets her a comfy chair so she can be supported in the later months. He gets up to hold her hair back when she has morning sickness and ensures she gets enough nutritious food each day. When she starts showing, oh my god John doesn't know what to do with himself. That little bump peaking out of her tight skirts makes him foam at the mouth. Of course he prioritizes her comfort, insisting she change shoes and stop wearing those uncomfortable looking heels, but he keeps her in her formal work attire for just a little longer, just so he can see her cute tummy poking out of it.

Speaking of her bump. He simply can't resist putting his hand on it. He feels so protective over it, best believe he goes feral if anyone tries to touch it. Hell all but breaks loose when his precious baby looks up at him with teary eyes telling him how uncomfortable she was when some rando put their hand on her stomach, (someone definitely lost their job that day). He eventually has her sitting in his lap, cooing over her and reassuring her that they won't get in trouble, that really he is the big boss anyways. He just loves having her there, perched on top of him he rests his head on her shoulder both arms coming around to cradle her now bigger bump.

John mandates maternity leave when she starts getting big, maybe around seven months when she spends a lot of her time complaining about back aches and swollen ankles, of course he does what he can to help her but it gets to the point where he knows that she should be resting. He has to basically forcibly put her on leave, reassuring her panics about money by promising to take care of her. And oh boy does he. He gives her foot massages and holds her belly, when she starts outgrowing her clothes best believe he would hand over any of his so she can fit in them more comfortably. He's just all over her, unable to stomach the fact that soon she will have a real live baby. That baby is about to become the most protected baby in the entire world.

That's all I have for now because I fear if I begin rambling about the rest of the 141 neither of us might make it out alive. (just know this baby is going to be so damn spoiled it’s crazy).

#john price #task force 141 #john price x reader #mae writes 💞#price cod #price x reader #task force x reader #john price call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #141 x reader #baby daddy #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #x reader #john price fluff #head canons #captain price

456 notes · View notes

delusionaldeadgirl · 3 days ago

Text

Adore Me

Spencer Reid x famous singer!reader

Summary: Spencer takes his friends to see his girlfriend at her live show in DC. He didn’t realize she was going to play a specific song about him that has him blushing and his friends joking about it

a/n: This is a random draft based on Juno by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s not chronological with the other one I posted. Nice comments are appreciated lol.

Spencer sat in the dimly lit venue next to his friends. The buzz of excitement filled the air as the crowd eagerly awaited performance of famous singer Y/N—who just so happened to be his girlfriend.

As the lights went down, the audience erupted in cheers. His heart raced as he looked at his friends. They were genuinely excited, especially Penelope. She had been talking about this ever since Spencer asked them all to come.

When Y/N stepped into the spotlight, wearing a stunning outfit that sparkled in the stage light, Spencer was left speechless. Her voice flowed through the crowd, captivating the crowd, mostly filled by young women. He couldn’t help but smile watching her interact with her fans.

Then she started singing one of her newest songs, one Spencer was surprised by when it started playing. One of Y/N’s most suggestive songs, obviously about him.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah you just get it.”

“Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad’s genetics”

Spencer blushed. Side eyeing Derek already knowing the look on his face and the playful banter that was to come. It was obvious to the whole room what the innuendos implied.

Derek leaned over, grinning. “Your girlfriend is something else, Reid. You sure you can handle all that?” Spencer stuttered trying to form a rebuttal but he like Emily always said “And just like that, IQ 187 is slashed to 60”.

The song progressed. Getting more and more suggestive making Spencer more and more bashful.

“I know you want my touch for life.”

“If you love me right then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

His colleagues kept looking at him, trying to suppress their laughter at his reaction. “Looks like someone’s blushing” Emily joked.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love.”

“Oh, late at night I’m thinking ‘bout you, ah”

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Y/N gets down on her elbows and knees looking directly at Spencer with a suggestive smile on her face.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Spencer immediately buried is face in his hands. His friends hooting and cheering before they turned to look at his reaction. It was both thrilling and mortifying watching his girlfriend exude such confidence on stage. Thrilling because of how talented she is, mortifying because of how his friends were looking at him right now.

The song started to slow down a little, getting to the bridge. The most direct lyrics about to be sang. He was not mentally prepared for this.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

Y/N began to slowly walk over to the side of the stage facing Spencer.

“Mark your territory.”

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang making direct eye contact with him. He was so done. The team’s genius swore he was brain dead by how entranced he was by her.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

She sang again as she got down on her knees once more. Laying on her back suggestively.

“I’m so fucking horny.”

At this point the whole audience could tell who she was performing this song for.

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang one last time before getting back on and proceeding with the rest of the show.

Not only were Spencer’s friends speechless, but for what felt like the first time ever, so was he.

When the show ended, the crowd erupted in cheers once more as Y/N bowed, her eyes searching for Spencer in the crowd. The moment she spotted him, her expression softened, and she smiled excitedly.

After the show, Spencer approached her, still flushed. "You were amazing," he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky. "Thanks, babe! Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye. “Uh yeah” he stuttered. “Maybe a little bit too much” Derek interjected with a laugh.

Y/N laughed, stepping closer. “You know, I was thinking about that song…”

Spencer swallowed hard, antsy to figure out where this was going. “Yeah?” he asked. “Maybe we can recreate it later” she whispered, winking at him.

His heart raced at her suggestion, and he felt both flattered and flustered. "I'd like that," he replied, unable to suppress his cheeks blushing even harder.

“So how about some after show drinks?” she suggested to the group. They all erupted in cheers of agreement.

As they walked out of the venue, Derek whispered to Penelope “I didn’t think Spencer watched anything but documentaries. How does he know what Juno is?” She just laughed shrugging her shoulders.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #spencer reid x y/n #spotify

409 notes · View notes

hanniebaeee · 2 days ago

Text

Tempted

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: smut, friends to lovers?

Summary: Felix walks in on you, his best friend, pleasuring yourself and decides to step in and help you out.

The first thing Felix heard when he stepped into your shared apartment is a soft moan. It's so soft, he thought he imagined it. He dropped his bag and took off his shoes, when he heard it again. This time, louder.

He froze as he realized it's you. He was contemplating whether to turn and run, or maybe… just maybe…

He heard it again - the soft moan and heavy breathing. Felix’s heart raced - did he just walk into something? Were you with someone?

He would die if he were to walk in and see you fucking someone else because he has spent way too many years of his life being so madly in love with you. So he stood still for a second, hoping and praying that it's just you. And that's all he heard - just your voice.

He walked towards his bedroom, thinking he'll just ignore you. But he saw that the door to your room was ajar. No matter how much of a gentleman he is, he couldn't help himself. Inside, he saw a sight that made his heart stop.

You lay on your bed, your hand in your panties. Oh.

Felix’s eyes almost popped out as he stood frozen at your door, watching as your fingers worked feverishly between your thighs, your eyes closed in concentration. It looked like you were struggling to find your peak.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Felix watched your hand move faster, your body writhing against the sheets. Your breath came in sharp gasps, your moans becoming more desperate.

Felix's heart pounded in his chest and he bit his lower lip, completely aroused by the sight in front of him. And also by the fact that you were completely unaware of his presence.

"Y/N," Felix whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Baby…"

Your eyes flew open, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flashing across your face.

"Oh my God, FELIX! I didn't hear you come in," you stammered, as you tried to pull your blanket over you.

Felix took a step into the room, his gaze fixed on your flushed face.

"It's okay," He reassured, his voice low and sultry. "Can I help you?"

“W-what?” You squeaked, eyes wide.

But you didn't protest as Felix approached your bed. Felix’s heart was pounding, his body responding to the sight in front of him. He climbed onto the bed, sitting beside you and cupping your cheek with his hand. Your skin was so hot, that his hand felt ice cold against it. Before you knew it, he was leaning forward, brushing his lips against yours.

His eyes dropped down, slowly wrestling the blanket off your hands, and licking his lips as he saw the wet spot on your panties.

"You're so wet, baby," He whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Let me help you cum."

You whimpered, your body relaxing into the mattress as Felix's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. His hand found its way between your legs, and slipped inside your panties.

His fingers slid easily through your slick folds and he groaned at the feel of your heat. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow, firm circles.

"Oh God, Lix-," you panted, your hips rising to meet his touch. “Ahh-"

Felix’s thumb pressed against your swollen bud, applying just the right amount of pressure as his other hand pinched your nipple through your thin t-shirt. You gave out a sharp cry of pleasure, a hand gripping his wrist, completely blissed out.

"You like that, huh?" Felix murmured, his voice husky. "You want more?"

You could only nod, your eyes rolling back as Felix's fingers worked their magic. He increased the pace, his thumb rubbing in quick, firm strokes, while his fingers slipped deep inside you.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Felix growled, his own desire soaring.

Your body tensed, your breath coming in short, rapid gasps.

"Lixie, I'm close, so close baby…" you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Felix leaned down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his fingers worked relentlessly. Your tongue danced with his, your mouths moving together as your passion soared.

With a sharp cry, your body arched off the bed, your pussy clenching around his fingers as your orgasm ripped through you. Felix held you tightly, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure and kissing you deeply.

As your body relaxed, Felix slowly withdrew his fingers, glistening with your juices. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"That was incredible," you breathed. "Oh my God."

Felix smirked, his eyes dark with desire.

"Happy to help," He purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another deep kiss.

He settled himself in between your legs, hands already working on removing your t-shirt. Your breath caught as his lips found your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest.

His fingers quickly unhooked your bra, eyes roaming over your pretty breasts. His hands cup them, kneading them gently, before pinching your nipples. He quickly took a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

"You're so beautiful, baby," Felix murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "I wanna make you feel good."

Your body trembled as his lips trailed down your stomach. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart as his eyes took in how drenched you were.

"Oh God," you moaned as Felix wasted no time, and his tongue flicked out, teasing your clit through your soaked panties.

Felix licked and sucked at your sensitive bundle of nerves through the damp fabric. Your hips bucked as Felix teased and teased. You tried to stay still, but it wasn't the easiest thing as he nibbled at your clit over the ruined fabric.

“FELIX!”

With a wicked grin, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You lifted your hips to help, and Felix held your gaze as he revealed your glistening pussy.

"You look so-" Felix moaned as his tongue slid through your folds, gathering your juices before swirling around your clit. You were a whimpering mess as you ground against his mouth, shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

"Yes, yes, please!" You whined, your hips moving in time with Felix's tongue. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Felix’s fingers joined the game, moving in and out of your hole as his tongue continued to tease your clit. Your body trembled, every bit of it screaming for release.

"I'm gonna cum, Lix, I'm gonna-" You cried, your hands gripping his golden locks as you held his head in place.

Felix increased the pace, his fingers pumping in and out, his tongue swirling relentlessly. Your orgasm crashed over you as wave after wave of pleasure left you trembling and gasping for breath. Felix continued to lap up all of your release, humming in approval.

As the tremors of your high subsided, you lay on the bed, content. Felix crawled up your body, his eyes burning with desire.

“I fucking love you.” You panted, watching him as he pulled his own shirt off.

“I love you too, baby,” He smiled, and it turned into a full laugh as you pulled him closer and kissed him.

You nibbled his bottom lip before whispering, “Your turn.”

a/n: Writer's block continues and I'm sorry if this isn't great!

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #felix #lee yongbok #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix smut #skz felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader

325 notes · View notes

heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 days ago

Text

Needy Lucifer x Reader - Morning Routine (NSFW)

Waking up next to Lucifer every morning was nothing short of a dream come true

More often than not, he’d be up before you, waiting for you to open your eyes and greet you with a gentle smile

It wasn’t long after that he would hop out of bed and offer to make you breakfast just so he could bring it to you in bed

But one particular morning, you woke up to something a little different

You forced your eyes open, the harsh light of hell shining through the window of your room

But when your eyes finally adjusted, you didn’t see Lucifer smiling like he always does

Instead, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead pressed into your back and his breath quiet and shallow

Lucifer’s bucked into your body continuously, tiny little whimpers escaping his throat despite his best efforts to keep quiet

The poor angel was humping into your body like his life depended on it!

And God, the feeling of his hard cock pressed up against you could have driven you to the brink

It was very rare to see your king this needy so early in the morning; you decided to take advantage of the situation

“Lucifer? What are you doing?~”

“H-Honey! Shit, I-I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Just a little bit. But you didn’t answer me, what are you doing?~”

“I-I…fuck, I’m sorry…I don’t know what came over me…I just…I need you, please…”

“Was last night not enough for you, Luci?~ You’re being a little greedy now, don’t you think?~”

“N-No! Last night was perfect! You’re always perfect, love! I-I just…” You teased him by wiggling your ass against the tent in his pants, causing him to whine and shudder at the unexpected friction

”I don’t know, baby, do you think it’s becoming of a king to behave like this? Begging like a man who’s never been touched?~”

“Sweetie, p-please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I mean, I’m not…”

“Luci, I need to shower! You have to let me go.~”

Lucifer let out the most pathetic cry you’ve ever heard from him; he was already too far gone and you loved everything about it

You felt his arms loosen around you as he pushed himself away from you reluctantly

You giggled to yourself as your hands found the hem of your panties and shoved them down until you could kick them off

You looked over your shoulder to see Lucifer’s stare, his mouth hung agape

You flashed him a coy smile before reaching down and spreading apart your glistening pussy for him

“Oh come on now, Luci, you know I would never leave you in the state you’re in! I was only teasing you.~”

“B-But I thought…”

“I just needed you to let go for a moment, I couldn’t give you access with the way you were wrapped around me!”

Lucifer’s tail appeared suddenly, thrashing back and forth like a predator about to pounce

All he needed was your word

“Go ahead, it’s okay my little angel, I want you to fuck me like a good boy~”

Not even a second passed before Lucifer’s briefs were removed and he resumed his previous position of being wrapped around you like a koala

But this time, his cock was fully sheathed inside of you leaking cunt with his tail wrapped impossibly tight around your thigh that you had held up for him

His thrusts were utterly desperate; the only things he could utter were weak “thank you’s” and completely needy moans

You didn’t fair any better as his cock was absolutely destroying you; unable to form any coherent sentence

If he was like this now, you wondered how he would respond to an invitation to join you for a shower after he was done filling you with his angelic cum~

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #i wrote this in public i hope you appreciate that 🤣

201 notes · View notes

zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

Text

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

first and foremost, the color scheme for this series is GORGEOUS, the purple pairs well with the angst of the series and i’m so ready for it (also so proud that u learned how to get the gradient function!! ☺️)

secondly, how DARE u not tag me i am flabbergasted, heartbroken, overlooking the golden gate bridge rn

ANYWAYS, i have seven minutes before lecture starts so here’s my lousy and incoherent annotations below ⬇️

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

i’m so ready to see how toxic this can get

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

love a reader who knows what she wants and goes after it

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

oh god

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again��her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

my stomach is doing flips

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

i would need a gun

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

i would crash out so hard rn

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

SICKENING

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

i support women’s wrong to do mass destruction

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

THIS IS MAKING ME UNBELIEVABLY SICK

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

this paragraph is so beautifully-crafted i had to highlight it - okay back to our regularly scheduled program

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

TOXICITY’S FINEST COUPLE

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

exactly he’s YOURS (mine…?)

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

you fucking NARC

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

she’s so me

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

oh my god i fear i need her to do the best revenge arc

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

again, i’m always in awe of ur descriptions it makes me so giggly and excited to see how well u constructed ur setting

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

should’ve bought a glock w those pregnancy tests - i would start TWEAKING so hard

💌 — this fic is BEAUTIFUL (ohmygod my professor arrived, let me make this QUICK) i absolutely love how u created this atmosphere of anger, resentment, desperation and neediness. because u captured the angst incredibly well, and how u built up to it—the aches, the emotions—were well-paced and made you feel everything on a deeper, more slowburn way. i also LOVE how the interconnectedness of how topper and rafe are best friends, and she’s his COUSIN, and how this man SNITCHED to rafe when she was driving away. i love-hate that scene bc it builds so much more tension, but i would be fucking pissed at topper. lastly, as always your descriptions are one of my favorite parts of your writing and i highlighted them for my annotations. so so PROUD of u for starting this series and i will make u complete even if its the last thing i do 🔪

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst)

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei @stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

4K notes · View notes

hanmaitani · 1 day ago

Text

Sneaking Around

PAIRING - Roronoa Zoro x Reader WC - 0.8K GENRE - smut CW - secret relationship, unprotected sex, implied size kink (if you squint) SYNOPSIS - being on the straw hat crew and secretly dating another member leads to a lot of close calls and a lot of sneaking around...

happy birthday zoro baby <33

Zoro can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Even if he could, he doesn’t really want to. Which would be fine… if you’d already told the crew that the two of you had been sneaking around behind closed doors.

Well… not really closed doors. More like slightly ajar doors or stuffed into closets or in quietly dark and deserted alleyways.

Quite literally any time that the two of you got alone time, Zoro had you like how you are now…

Your back flush against the wall, his body slotted between your thighs, pressed flush against yours. He’s got both your legs tossed over his arms, pinning them open, your knees dangerously close to tapping your shoulders. One of his arms is wrapped around your hips, keeping them angled towards him while the other has snaked its way up to cup the back of your head, keeping it from hitting the wall.

Zoro’s hips move impossibly fast, deliciously so. He attempts to keep quiet but the fast movements only cause the loud wet noises that accompany them to be even more prominent. The lewd sound of his cock stretching out your cunt.

It’s delicious and dizzying, the way he chases both of your highs as your hands try to grip onto his shoulders.

There’s no real reason for you to grip his shoulders, both of you know this. It’s just a show of trying to hold yourself up, but he’s doing all the work for you. It’s just so you can touch him, ground yourself as he fucks you into the heavens.

Both of you are all too aware that your alone time could be over at any minute. That in a second’s notice you could be forced to scramble to either look presentable or for one of you to hide.

Today it would be you hiding if you couldn’t be presentable fast enough, you were in his training area. And he wanted you to finish before that had to happen, both of you.

“Z-Zo…” You whine into his ear, his forehead is pressed against your shoulder as he pants desperately across his chest. He’d give anything to hear that sound on repeat.

“Sh, sh, princess, I know.” He mumbles against your skin, lips pressing to yours to keep you quiet as his hips drills into you harder. He’s swallowing your shallow cries, the ones you’re trying and failing to swallow on your own, the ones that could get you caught if you’re not careful. “God fuck, feel so good.” He kisses the words into your mouth as his hand spreads over your scalp, fingers brushing softly against your skin, trying to soothe you as you cling to him.

He could feel you clamping down on his cock, your body squeezing his as you tipped over the edge. His hips ground against you, as you came, his lips kissing yours more desperately as he fucks you through your high, focusing on his own now. His grip on your body tightens as his thrusts get more erratic, chasing down his finish, needing it to be in you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He mutters against your lips as his hips stutter into you. Both of your breathing shaky as he releases your tangle of limbs. Your legs are unsteady under your own weight as he eases you down. Both of your lips are still moving against each other, trying to keep the intimacy until you hear a few distant bangs heading your way.

You pull back quickly, gasping as you reach for your pants, shakily trying to pull them on as Zoro fixes his own. Zoro had only just launched himself halfway across the room when the door slams open.

“ZORO DINNER!” Luffy’s hand is still on the door when his eyes land on you. “Oh, hey! Were you training with Zoro too?” Your voice gets caught in your throat and you settle on just nodding your head, confirming his incorrect suspicions. “No fair! You didn’t invite me!!” Luffy pouted slightly before remembering why he came in here. “C’mon! Dinner!” He bolts out of the room as fast as he’d entered and you can’t help but collapse in a heap on the floor, sighing out the stress you’d just gone through.

Zoro chuckles as he walks over and helps you off the ground. “Are you okay?”

“He almost caught us.” You mumble, shaking your head in worry. “Zoro what-” your breath hitches as his lips brush your neck again. “Wh-what are you…”

“C’mon, one more quick one before dinner,” he asks softly in your ear as his hands already move back towards your hips.

You whine in worry, but you can’t help melting into his arms, unable to resist him.

Zoro could never seem to keep his hands off of you… but you were truly no better.

TAGLIST -

@tsukiran @qichun @s0uldarling @stunies @little-miss-naill

@hayatoseyepatch @appalost

#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro smut #zoro roronoa smut #op x reader #one piece x reader #op smut #one piece smut #𓇻 Zoro’s Gravity #𓇻 Void Screams Back #𓇻 Dark Side Writing

154 notes · View notes

jaal-ama-daravv · 2 days ago

Text

dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich path)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) emmrich x rook cinematic

Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Lich Romance Scene fair warning you're in for an emotional rollercoaster

first, i wanna touch on this from our previous dissection (argument) -

"What if I can't bear that for eternity?" Oh, Emmrich. his entire soul aches over the inevitable future that awaits rook. i think this line is so important for emmrich because 'bear that for eternity" implies Emmrich will either, a) go rogue trying to bring rook back c) live with so much grief over his lost love it changes his soul forever in a dark, yet unknown way. and quite frankly, all of these are incredibly sad, and that just hurts. i thoroughly, full heartedly believe that there is no concievable way that emmrich just 'moves on' and 'accepts' the death of rook as previously stated in the lichdom scene. sry bioware, but youre wrong on that one as if he was 'fine' with it, he wouldn't of had a massive panic attack over rooks death and his grief. COUGH, the eternal flame. i could rant for hours and HOURS about how emmrich in the lich path is absoloutley devastating if rook were to pass on, because he is so compulsively, irrevocably in love with them. and not only is he in love with them, he has the love he has yearned for, for over 20 years. its huge for him which is evident given how both romance paths have him terrfied of how much he loves you.

anyway, to the SCENE -

immediately we are hit with this, to which Emmrich replies stating that he did it not to scare the citizens. what a load of huff. youll see why thats a straight deflective lie soon -

don't you worry handsome man, youre not alone emmrich expressing his fear of losing rook, and/or losing eachother, continues to be a major dynamic between these lovers

oh rooky, im so proud of you for opening up about your feelings. (remember the argument they had prior, it was fort knox up in here)

rook expresses clear fear and gratitude that they were able to escape the fade. I do believe that the line "I was afrad I'd be there forever" is a parrelle to emmrichs lichdom - as they would of spent eternity without eachother. hence why this next line, hurts so much -

the raw emotion, the crack in his voice when he says this line tells you everything you need to know. he is so grateful to have rook back with him. I do believe in this moment that emmrich has a moment of realisation of his love for rook, and just how immensed and attached he is with her. which is why he later vows that nothing will part them ever again, "not in this, nor any other world" (cough, soulmates). idk man, i have a feeling that emmrich would find rook's spirit in the fade (or any other world) if they passed on, and he'd never leave.

I also want to touch on the "you're here with me" line. this, this is important considering what happens directly afterwards - remember how i mentioned desire a few posts ago? lets break it down, "you're here with me." Emmrich has held a consistent view throughout the whole romance that "its gratifying a fresh-faced adventure took any notice in me at all", does emmrich also possess the belief that the love he so dearly desired may not of been possible in his life time due to his age? i think so. which is why desire and the "wow, you're here with me" is so, so important. Now watch closely -

he looks defeated, ashamed - "why would someone like her be with someone like me? let alone, desire me."

the pose, how he is holding his chest and his body up against the coffin, the disbelief and sadness that is pained over his face. he is heavy with angst. this man wants rook, body and soul. he is SO in love with her. god my heart breaks typing this. he is so in love with her, but is so afraid that she doesnt want him now that he is undead - I will add in here to think back to when he was mortal, 3 flirts lines in total were regarding his looks. UGH, just stab me - ps the music in this scene rips out my heart, stomps on it, and shoves it back into my chest bloodied and bruised.

when rook touches him, his face unstiffens and his body relaxes. he looks at her nervously, but before he can address her or admit his pain, rook has NOTICED (YAY - take that argument scene rook) what is bothering emmrich, because she loves him so much, maybe even more, regardless of his undead figure. "You don't have to hide your face from me" is just a perfect way of phrasing that you are made for eachother. rook reassures emmrich of her undying love for him.

its that gomez and morticia dynamic, unwavering, obsessed dedication to eachother. a bond that strengthens the other. for emmrich and rook at least, theri dynamic is so strong I wholeheartedly believe the death of one, would break the mind and soull of the other.

there is so, so much emotion in this scene and most of it is written into the facial expressions and movements of the characters. watch how the fear of death becomes easier now that emmrich knows that rook loves him truly -

im not crying, you are -

this WRECKED me. because there is a slimmer of hope in his voice and particularly the words he chose. "I will let nothing part us again, my love" emmrich is a lich lord, with powers we dont understand just yet (cmon sequel with rook & emmrich), it is safe to say though that emmrich and rook would fight for and protect eachother to the death so that they may not be parted. This also takes me back to my original point of not letting anything part them, nothing - not even death. hence my belief that emmrich would do anything to find rook in the fade or any other world.

"Not in this nor any other world" - do i need say more? the hope seeps through, its not alot, but its there. don't get me wrong, he still has a crippling fear of death, but its, different. different in the sense that if rook was to pass or trapped somewhere, he would get them back and find his way to them, at all costs, one way or another.

the rest of the scene is very, very sweet and shows them being happy for the extra few hours they have together before facing untold danger - by either rook being able to see the fade through emmrichs eyes, or them boning again. actually i think both lead to boning.

this scene has me in absolute tears everytime I witness it because it is so powerful. it is hopeful. it is pure committment of their relationship and bond to eachother. combining this with the knowledge of the argument scene and having played through the mortal romance path, this - is extremely emotional.

Both romance scene are emotional and touching in their own regard - however, I do think the lich romance scene is more deep due to the dynamic. It is not about simply coming to grips with mortality, it is coming to grips with mourning your lover for eternity, and if you cant bear it for eternity, (which he wont, cmon) he is afraid. afraid of losing, rook. his heart. his dearest heart, and of losing himself because rook is, and I quote, "the most magnificent thing to ever happen to me."

mourn watch rook and emmrich are on a whole other level, and that level is something that is told in the minute details, the edging looks. the tone of voice. there is hope in this scene and a sense of overwhelming love and acceptance, but, there is also impending grief. which makes this story so real.

you can feel emmrich yearning for rook throughout the entire romance path because of the fated connected they share, in this and any other world. you can feel it. but this, in the lich scene? there is yearning, acceptance, hope, grief, joy, and melancholy all in one. without a doubt in my heart, these two, are made for eachother, in every world.

I shall break down the mortal romance scene next ♥ see you soon

125 notes · View notes

wolverigrl · 2 days ago

Text

Baby Bump and Tears

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I cried. But I think it’s good to end things when they are at their highest peak. Thank you for your support and love for this fanfiction! <3

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, emotional, it's the last part

Enjoy! xoxo

Previous Part

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

As I curl up on the couch beside Hugh, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and joy that’s almost too much to hold. Our world has shifted, filled with love, excitement, and anticipation.

This baby… our baby.

Just thinking it makes my heart swell. I reach down, almost reflexively, to rest my hand on my belly, feeling a little thrill. It’s so small now, barely even there, but it’s ours. I glance up at Hugh, who’s watching me with that warm, gentle look, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, right now.

His hand comes to rest on my knee, warm and steady, and I let out a soft breath, leaning into him, my head against his shoulder. He presses a kiss to my temple, the gentle touch calming and grounding. “You ready?” he asks, his voice soft, almost reverent.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes, and it fills me with so much love I feel like I might burst!

I nod, my throat suddenly tight with emotion as I press play on the first video.

The screen lights up with the familiar sight of Chris’s living room, filled with laughter and warmth. Just seeing my best friend's face instantly makes me smile.

We’ve been close for years, a bond that feels like family, like having an older brother who’s always been there, looking out for me. Sharing this news with him had been something I’d dreamed of, and now, watching it all over again, it feels even more special. I sometimes find it strange that we had a fling together many years ago, but I'm incredibly thankful that it didn't ruin our friendship.

On the screen, Chris and his siblings, Scott, Shana and Carly, are packed onto the couch. The energy is buzzing, with Hugh holding up the phone, trying to wrangle everyone into a “photo.” I can feel the anticipation from that day all over again, the little tremor of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside me. I remember exchanging a glance with Hugh, both of us barely holding back laughter. It felt like we were sharing a precious secret, and we couldn’t wait to let everyone in on it.

“Alright, everyone, say cheese!” my voice comes through the phone, high-pitched and almost breathless with excitement.

Chris leans in close, throwing an arm around me, and his siblings follow suit, all grinning, not knowing what’s about to happen.

“Cheeeeeese!” he says, hamming it up with a goofy grin, and I remember feeling a surge of love and gratitude for him.

For all of them.

And then, just as everyone settles into the “photo”, Hugh blurts it out, his voice full of pride and excitement:

“Y/n’s pregnant!”

The room falls silent for a heartbeat, and then—chaos.

Chris’s face goes blank with shock, his eyes widening as he processes the words, and then, as if a light switches on, his expression shifts to pure joy. He lets out this loud, ecstatic laugh, one that I can feel deep in my bones, and he practically tackles me in a bear hug, squeezing so tight I can barely breathe.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” he exclaims, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, his own shining with disbelief and excitement. “Seriously? This- this is incredible!” He grips my shoulders, his voice softening as he looks at me, his face full of something so pure and real it nearly brings me to tears. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom! I just know it!”

I nod, laughing and crying all at once, the happiness so big it feels like it’s radiating out of me.

“Yes, Chris! It’s real!” I say, my voice catching on the last word, and he wraps me in another hug, his arms around me like a promise that he’ll always be there, always a part of this family.

The rest of his siblings are cheering, reaching out to hug both me and Hugh, their joy spilling over, and I feel surrounded by love, a warmth that makes me feel so incredibly lucky. I catch Hugh’s eye over the happy chaos, and he’s watching me with this quiet awe, his face soft as he sees me embraced by my friends.

As the clip ends, I wipe a tear from my cheek, unable to stop smiling. I turn to Hugh, my voice barely a whisper, full of all the love and gratitude I feel.

“He's the best. He loves us, Hugh. Loves this baby already. I can’t believe we have friends who care this much..”

Hugh’s arm tightens around me, and he brushes his lips over my temple, his own eyes glistening. “You’re right. We’re so lucky to have him… all of them. And I’m so lucky to have you.” His voice drops, filled with a soft intensity that makes my heart race.

“I love you. You’re my everything, and this—us, this family—it’s my whole world.”

I look up at him, our faces close, and he kisses me, slow and deep, his hand resting on my cheek. In that moment, it’s like the whole world fades away, and there’s only us, together, ready to step into this new chapter.

When we pull back, I swipe to the next clip. I can feel my heart starting to pound again, this time with an almost nervous excitement, as I see the screen light up with the faces of Hugh’s family. His mom is sitting beside him on her cozy couch, with Oscar and Ava snuggled up next to me, their expressions already bright with anticipation. Just seeing their faces on the screen makes me feel this deep, comforting warmth.

They’ve embraced me from the start, made me feel like I truly belong, and sharing this news with them had felt like a sacred moment.

In the video, Hugh lifts the phone, settling us all into the frame. I remember holding his hand, feeling its warmth, and taking a deep breath, steadying myself.

“Okay, everyone, say cheese!” he says, grinning as he raises the camera.

“Cheeeese!” everyone says, laughing, leaning in closer to one another. I glance at Hugh, feeling that bubbling excitement again, and he gives me a small nod, encouraging me to go ahead.

“I'm pregnant!” I say, my voice carrying just enough that everyone hears, and then I hold my breath, watching their faces.

Hugh’s mom’s reaction is instant.

Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widening with surprise, and then they fill with tears as she lets out a soft, happy laugh. “Oh, darling!” she says, her voice trembling with joy as she reaches over to embrace me. “Sweetheart, that’s… that’s wonderful!” Her voice is filled with so much warmth and love that I feel myself tearing up all over again, and I hug her tightly, feeling truly, deeply welcomed.

Oscar is smiling, trying to keep his composure, but I can see the pride in his eyes as he looks at Hugh. He reaches out to hug him tightly. “Congrats, Dad! I’m really happy for you too!” he says with a steady voice which is filled with unspoken love.

And then Ava practically launches herself into my arms, her face shining with excitement. “I’m gonna be a big sister!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me so tight I feel her heart pounding against mine.

“Yes, you are, Ava!” I laugh, hugging her back just as tightly, feeling this overwhelming sense of love and connection. This is our family, and they’re already embracing this baby as one of their own.

I blink back the tears that are gathering in my eyes in the present, wiping them away again as Hugh reaches out to hold my hand. “They were so happy..” I murmur, my voice trembling with emotion. “They really, truly love us..”

He squeezes my hand, his voice soft but steady as he says, “Of course they do, baby. You’re their family. And this baby will be so loved.” He pauses, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing it gently.

“Just like you.”

The last clip is the one I’ve been holding onto, the one that feels the most personal, the most precious. It’s the video of my mom and my stepdad, Brian, whom I’ve always called “Dad”. He’s been there for me through everything, a constant, steady presence. I knew this news would mean everything to him, and to my mom, but there was something about calling him “Granddad” that felt so special and so right.

I tap play, and there we are, gathered around their kitchen table, just as we’d done so many times.

The comforting smell of my mom’s cooking, the warmth of their home, it all floods back to me. Hugh and I had been sitting across from them, exchanging little glances, both of us barely holding back our excitement.

“Alright, let’s get a picture together!” I say, lifting the camera as if it’s just another ordinary family snapshot.

They lean in, smiling, unsuspecting, and I feel my heart pound as I look at them, so full of love and warmth. Finally, I say it, my voice soft but clear: “We’re having a baby.”

For a second, they’re silent.

My mom’s hand goes to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as she looks from me to Hugh, and then she lets out a small, joyful laugh, her face lighting up. “Oh, my baby… this is… this is everything!” She leans forward, pulling me into her arms, her voice trembling as she whispers, “I’m so happy for you!”

I sink into my mom’s embrace, feeling her arms around me, warm and steady, like they’ve always been.

She holds me tight, not letting go, and I can hear the emotion in her breathing, the little tremble that says more than words could ever say. She finally pulls back to look at me, her hands cupping my face, her eyes shining with the same love she’s given me all my life.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice so full of pride and tenderness that it makes my chest ache. “You’re going to be an incredible mother. I knew it the first day you held your baby cousin! You have so much love to give. And Hugh…” She glances at him, her smile soft and full of approval. “Thank you. I see how you look at her—you’ve always looked at her like she’s the most important thing in the world.”

Hugh reaches over, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, his own eyes misty.

“Thank you, Barb, really. I don’t even have words..” he says quietly. “I promise I’ll love her and this baby with everything I have.”

And then, Brian just stares at me, his face unreadable at first, and then, like the emotions are too big to contain, he lets out a breathy laugh and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my forehead.

“Oh, my little girl..” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. I can feel him trembling slightly, a side of him I rarely see. “I can’t believe it… I couldn’t be prouder, sweetheart. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and now you’re bringing another beautiful soul into this world.” He leans back, blinking a few times as he fights back tears. I let out a shaky laugh and look at him lovingly. “You're gonna be a grandpa and you will be just as good as you are as a father.”

His tears broke like a dam and he began to chuckle. Brian pulled my mom and Hugh into our arms.

I see my dad looking over at Hugh with a warmth that’s unmistakable. “Thank you, Hugh. You are a good man.”

In the present, watching this clip play out, I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face again. I feel Hugh’s arm wrap around me even tighter, holding me close as I quietly wipe my cheeks, laughing softly at my own emotions.

“He’s… he’s been my dad my whole life, and seeing him like that, it just makes everything feel so real. They’re all going to be such incredible grandparents!”

Hugh’s hand moves to cradle my cheek, turning me gently so I’m looking right at him. “You’re everything to them, y/n. And to me. They’re so proud of you… and I’m proud of you too. I can’t wait to see you as a mother. I know you’re gonna be amazing.”

I can barely speak, my heart so full that words feel inadequate. I reach up to touch his face, my fingers grazing his beard as I take in every detail, the warmth in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips, the depth of love there that’s just for me.

“I’m so happy and thankful you’re by my side, Hugh. I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”

We both lean in, and our lips meet in a slow, tender kiss, one that says all the things we don’t need to say out loud—the love, the promises, the future we’re building together. As we pull back, he rests his forehead against mine, a soft smile on his face.

“You, me, Oscar, Ava and this little one.” he murmurs, resting a hand gently on my stomach. “Our family. I’m so ready for this.”

I take a deep, shuddering breath, letting myself savor this feeling. It’s overwhelming but beautiful, and I know that as long as I have Hugh, our family and friends by our side, everything will be okay. It’s all more than I could have ever dreamed of.

Finally, I close the video app, locking my phone and setting it aside, then turn to Hugh again, feeling like I’m holding my whole heart in my hands as I look at him.

“We’re so blessed..” I whisper, the words spilling out in a soft, heartfelt murmur. “I don’t know how we got so lucky, but I’m so, so grateful.”

He pulls me into his arms, holding me as if he’ll never let go.

Our life, our love, this baby—it’s all a gift, one I’ll cherish with everything I have.

In this moment, I know that our future is going to be beautiful. And I’m ready for every single step.

---

Later that evening, with Hugh’s arms still wrapped around me, I glance at my phone and the idea hits me. The clips—each precious moment of joy, shock, and laughter from our family and friends. I can already imagine how special it would be to share this journey with everyone who has supported us. “What if we… posted it?” I ask, looking up at Hugh with a little smile.

He chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “You think the world’s ready for it?”

“Only one way to find out!” I say, excitement bubbling in my chest.

“We’ll show them how fun this journey has been from the very beginning. Plus, you know they’d find out anyway.”

With a grin, I start piecing together the clips, feeling a wave of happiness wash over me with each reaction we captured. Chris’s delighted laughter, Hugh’s mom’s joyful tears, and my own parent’s emotional embrace—they all blend into a beautiful, joyful montage that feels like a celebration of everything we’re about to embark on. I add some soft music and finish it with a little clip of me and Hugh laughing in our living room, the camera turning to show his hand resting protectively on my belly. I feel a soft, fluttery nervousness in my chest as I write the caption:

>>y/n instagram: When you’ve got the best family and friends to help you share the biggest news of your life… Baby Jackman is already so loved💕 Get ready, world—this little one’s going to have the coolest, funniest aunts, uncles, and grandparents around!😎❤️<<

Hugh chuckles as I hit post, and almost instantly, the notifications start flooding in. Friends, fans, and family—everyone’s reaction lights up my screen, and each new comment makes me smile even wider.

Right at the top of the comments, I spot Ryan's unmistakable reply:

>>vancityreynolds: Finally, someone to keep Hugh in line. Congrats on creating a future little Wolverine… or at least a very hairy child.<<

Hugh bursts into laughter beside me, shaking his head. “Of course he’d say that!”

I scroll down, spotting even more replies:

>>chrisevans: Counting down the days until I’m officially the cool uncle. So, so happy for you both!!!❤️<<

>>zendaya: I can already tell this kid’s going to have the best sense of humor. Congrats, you two!😍<<

>>therock: Hugh, let me know when the little one’s ready for some ‘Baby’s First Workout’ tip🤪 Much love to you both!❤️<<

>>blakelively: Congrats babes! Let me know if you need tips on handling an overexcited Ryan😂❤️<<

Fan comments start rolling in too, filling up with heart emojis, funny congratulations, and even more excitement about “Baby Jackman.”

And as the comments keep pouring in, I can’t stop smiling. Here we are, surrounded by love, joy, and humor from the people closest to us—and even from a few who like to tease us along the way.

This is everything I could have dreamed of and more..

The End.

---

Tags:

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07 @rachb629 @chronicallybubbly @marvelgirlie-4 @khxna

#hugh jackman #wolverine #marvel #hugh jackman x you #x men #hugh #jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #fluff #baby #fem reader #pregnancy #pregnant #hugh jackedman #logan howlett

120 notes · View notes

evermoresversion · 10 hours ago

Note

If you could do one where reader and JJ used to be together secretly but they broke up and stayed friends and like months later when JJ is with Kiara all the pogues find out about their relationship it would be awesome <33

The crickets were chirping in the background while you leaned your hip against the wall in the backyard of your house and JJ was in front of you, playing with his hat. Your gaze was on the floor as you both stood in a tense silence.

“So that's it?” He broke the silence with a trembling voice and you sighed, looking up into his eyes, seeing the pain in them.

“You know this is the best decision.”

He nodded slowly and turned around, walking towards his motorcycle.

“We'll be fine, right?” You raised your voice and JJ just nodded again.

“Yeah, I just need time.”

He started the engine of the motorcycle and took off from there, leaving a feeling of emptiness in you but you knew everything would be fine.

It had been at least three months since the two of you had broken up and everything was going smoothly between you and JJ. All except that you started to notice Kiara very close to him until the two of them finally started dating.

You didn't feel jealous or anything like that since you always noticed a certain energy between them, but it was definitely strange seeing your ex with someone else.

One day when the Pogues were relaxing at the Chateau, you walked into the kitchen to make yourself a PB&J sandwich. You couldn't reach the peanut butter until an arm reached out and grabbed it easily for you. You turned around and it was the blonde you had been so in love with.

“Are you going to make yourself a sandwich?” You nodded with a knowing smile. You had always had a tradition that he would prepare your sandwiches and you would pay him with a make out session. “Let me do it for you.” He took the jam from your hand and began his work. “When we were dating you liked these.”

“I…”

“Were you two dating!?” A voice filled the kitchen, interrupting your words and you both stopped what you were doing to look at the person. It was Sarah.

“Y-yeah, I mean…” JJ scratched the back of his neck and looked at you for support.

“A long time ago.”

“Oh god.” She muttered and left the kitchen towards the porch where the others were.

You and JJ followed hot on her heels and Sarah was already telling what she had just found out.

“The two of them were dating, did you know that?!” Everyone looked at you both in surprise except for Kiara who was looking at JJ with a frown.

You both tried to think of what to say until finally you were the one who spoke.

"It was a while ago, we both got over it."

You looked at Kiara and she gave you a sympathetic smile. The others started asking questions about your former relationship until they finally stopped the topic because they were hungry.

While they went to buy something to eat, you, JJ and Pope stayed at the Chateau. You and the blonde went back to the kitchen to finish preparing your sandwich and that's when you realized that you could become good friends after all.

Until he touched your hand and all the memories came back to your mind.

84 notes · View notes

itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 days ago

Text

Oh my God. I don't think I'll ever recover.

Thank you for writing this story, thank you for doing it so flawlessly, thank you for this Joel who is the man of my dreams (I know, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s so damn perfect it hurts), thank you for reader who doesn't look like me (physically definitely not, she seems like the most beautiful woman in the world while I'm a walking disaster lol) but at the same time intimately yes (and he could call me freckles too, which makes me literally DIE, I don't know why I haven't said it yet) and I want to hug her every second and tell her that she is the best, simply thank you.

Spoiler under the cut 😭

You made me cry for a hat. A COWBOY HAT.

And then I lost it completely at Future Days, I recognized it at the first line and my heart skipped a beat. And I cried even more when he agreed to make love to her even though it's something he never thought he would do. I should quote the entire chapter because it's just perfect, there's not a word out of place, it's like a beautiful song that touches all the right chords of the soul.

I’m so in love with this story it’s gettin ridiculous 🫠

Edit: I forgot to mention Tess, OMG she’s so amazing ♥️

BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)

Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.

You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah! You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey.

You

Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this.

“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”

You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible.

The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”.

You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands.

“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”

You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”

“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.

“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance.

You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.

After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip.

You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold.

After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller.

You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car.

Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight.

The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.

Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.

He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists.

He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another.

Joel

“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”

His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.

“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”

You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.

“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”

You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”

He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something.

No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany.

He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”

When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”

He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”

He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms.

Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.

It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”

“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again.

“So?”

“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.

He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss.

I love you.

You

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.

“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.

Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”

“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”

He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic.

“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”

“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”

“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.

“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way.

“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”

As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”

You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”

The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there.

“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.

“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.

Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”

“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”

Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”

“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.

“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”

Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”

You - Four Years Prior

“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle.

“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”

Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”

That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.

“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.

As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.

One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”

You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours.

The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.

“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”

A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.

“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”

“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”

You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.

You - Present Day

A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him?

“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms.

“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”

“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”

“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.

“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.

Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.

Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.

“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”

You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”

You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”

“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”

She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”

You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.”

Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?”

“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”

“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.

“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.”

You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him.

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right?

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier.

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you.

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings.

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now?

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music.

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers.

I love you.

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder.

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him.

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song.

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart.

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?”

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.”

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore.

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller.

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over.

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it.

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.”

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage.

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage.

“He��s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar.

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?”

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage.

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with.

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar.

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords.

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel.

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

��Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing.

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women.

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?”

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.”

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you.

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints.

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit.

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once.

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane.

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him.

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him.

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties.

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you.

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him.

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you.

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady.

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours.

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are.

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you.

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?”

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office.

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused.

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful.

I love you.

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side.

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull.

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.”

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright.

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego.

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet.

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?”

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.”

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?”

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.”

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him.

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours.

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy.

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants.

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric.

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!”

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.”

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.”

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently.

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.”

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back.

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him.

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says, “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you.

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips.

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”.

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now.

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does.

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.”

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers.

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach.

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece.

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen.

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel.

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat.

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you.

He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.”

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling.

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip.

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you.

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way.

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl.

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips.

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk.

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…”

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating.

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved.

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you.

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses.

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.”

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask.

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.”

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now.

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep.

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed.

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his.

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany.

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

#bless your heart #and thank you #this is my favorite thing ever #i need to scream #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic

472 notes · View notes

daisymbin · 2 days ago

Text

what kind of future? - jeon wonwoo

warnings: alcohol mention, ANGST!!!! happy ending though so all is well

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: exes to lovers

wc: 2.3k

check out my masterlist!

“why did you block me?” your voice comes out small, muffled through the lump in your throat as you stand in front of wonwoo’s front door. It’s saturday night, and you’re clutching plastic bags filled with takeout boxes of all his favorites, the familiar smell of the food wafting into the cold air between you. you’ve been worried sick all week, desperate to understand why he cut you out so suddenly, and tonight, after a week of silence from him, you couldn’t wait any longer.

wonwoo stares back at you, and even in the dim glow of the porch light, you can see how exhausted he looks. his eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with that drunken haze you recognize from nights out together with friends & also from dates. you can smell the faint alcohol on him, and he’s swaying slightly in the doorway, unsteady but painfully familiar. his dark hair is tousled, and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie and sweats, looking every bit as vulnerable as you feel.

he doesn’t answer you. not at first. instead, he laughs, the sound broken and empty, and leans his shoulder against the door frame. “so now you care?” he slurs, voice cracking around the edges. “you care now that i’m a mess, huh?”

you step closer, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “wonwoo, i’ve always cared,” you argue softly, voice trembling. “what happened? why did you block me? did i do something wrong?”

he laughs again, bitter and self-deprecating, before slumping down, sliding his back against the door frame until he’s sitting on the ground. his long legs stretch out in front of him, and he rubs his hands over his face, as if he can’t stand to look at you.

you crouch down beside him, setting the takeout bags aside. “wonwoo,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away, and the movement cuts deeper than you thought possible.

“i blocked you because i’m tired,” he mutters, voice thick with more than just alcohol. “tired of wanting something i can’t have. tired of pretending. i thought... maybe if i just erased you from my life, i could move on.” he looks up then, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and your heart breaks at the sight. “but it didn’t work. nothing works. not even drinking until i can’t feel anything.” another bitter laugh left his dry, chapped lips.

you’re stunned, your mind spinning, but part of you understands. it’s a pain you know all too well, a familiar ache that never quite faded. “wonwoo-ah,” you whisper, the name heavy on your tongue, full of memories you’d buried after you two broke up. “we both tried moving on, didn’t we?” the words hang between you, a painful truth neither of you ever wanted to address.

wonwoo looks up at you, the bitterness softening into something achingly vulnerable. “we did,” he admits, voice cracking. “but no matter how many times i tried to convince myself i was over you, no matter how hard i fought to just be friends... i couldn’t. i just can't.” he runs a shaky hand through his hair, his tears slipping down his cheeks. “god, do you know how bad it hurts?”

you feel your own tears spill over, remembering how hard it was when you broke up, how you both decided to try and stay friends for the sake of the boys, you've known them for far too long. “i thought i was doing the right thing,” you whisper, voice trembling. “we both did. but maybe…-”

wonwoo’s eyes search yours, the pain and longing there almost too much to bear. “i don't need you to pity me. if you've moved on, just go-”

“go where exactly wonwoo? who said anything about moving on? do you think i have?” you let out a frustrated sigh.

he cuts you off, throwing his head back with a humorless laugh. “oh, come on,” he says, his voice raising a little, frustration and pain bleeding through. “i saw you. last weekend. with him.”

you blink, confusion clear on your face. “him? who?”

wonwoo clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists on his lap. “that guy you were laughing with at the café,” he snaps. “you looked... so happy. and he was touching your hand, and you didn’t pull away. i thought...” he trails off, his voice breaking. “i thought you liked him. i thought you were... moving on

the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. you know exactly who he’s talking about; an old friend who had come into town unexpectedly. it was a friendly catch-up, nothing more. you hadn’t even considered that wonwoo would’ve seen it, much less misunderstood it. you reach for him despite his flinch, your fingers trembling. “wonwoo, that wasn’t... that wasn’t what you thought,” you say, tears streaking your cheeks. “he’s just an old friend, nothing more. i didn’t think you... still felt this way about me.”

wonwoo laughs again, but this time it’s full of disbelief, raw and shaky. “felt this way?” he echoes in disbelief, voice heavy with emotion. “i never stopped loving you. i’ve been trying to bury it for months, trying to be okay with just being friends. but it’s killing me. everything about you still drives me crazy.” he pauses, his voice breaking further. “i tried my best to stay strictly friendly with you, just the way you wanted, to keep up with just being friends for your sake, for the sake of our friendship and the boys. but every time i see you, every time i look at you...it takes everything in me to not reach for you, to not touch you, hold you, kiss you. it hurt so damn much to act like it didn’t at all. i really tried to keep my distance, for the sake of our friendship, for the boys...for myself. because i cant afford to lose you completely.. if i ever did…it would kill me.”

your voice wavers, thick with emotion. “i didn’t think you'd still want me anymore. i-i still love you.”

wonwoo looks up at you, hope flickering in his gaze, “you..still love me?”

“yes, i-”

his hopeful eyes were swallowed quickly by disbelief. he shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “no,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “don’t do this. dont do this to me. don’t say things just to make me feel better.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, pain slicing through you as you watch him crumble. “i’m not,” you insist, tears pooling in your own eyes. “wonwoo, you just don’t get it, do you?” your voice breaks, and your hands tremble as you reach for him. “i’ve never stopped loving you. i thought things would be simpler, easier for you if we stayed friends, so i kept my feelings locked up too. but i love you. god, i love you so much that it hurts.”

his breath catches, and his tears fall faster, tracing painful paths down his face. yet still, he doesn't trust himself enough to believe his own 2 ears. “do you know how much it hurts?” he asks, voice barely a whisper. “the thought of losing you completely when you left me…it hurt so bad that I.. i took whatever you were willing to give me, even if its just to be your friend again…I did it even though it killed me inside.” he shudders, the tears slipping down his face. “but seeing you with someone else broke me. i thought i was strong enough, but... god, it hurts so much.”

wonwoo clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, his grip firm but trembling. his eyes closes shut as he whispers, “i don’t want to let go,” voice cracking with every word. “come back to me. i can’t lose you again.” he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, any sign that this is still a mistake. but all he finds is the same raw, desperate hope reflected in your gaze.

“you won't lose me again,” you promise, fingers brushing against his cheeks, wiping away the tears that keep falling. “i love you, i love you just the same, if not more.”

a broken, relieved laugh spills from his lips, and his eyes shine with an overwhelming mix of emotions. “god, i thought i’d never hear you say that again,” he breathes out, voice full of disbelief. “i was so sure you’d moved on, that you were happier without me.”

“never,” you say, voice cracking. “i thought about you every day, wondered if you were okay, if you were hurting too. and when we tried to be friends, it was like twisting the knife deeper. because i wanted you so badly, but i was too scared to ruin what little we had left.”

wonwoo’s hands move to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your tear-stained skin. his touch is hesitant, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks. “it was the same for me,” he whispers, voice breaking. “every time i saw you, all i wanted to do was pull you into my arms and never let go. but i kept telling myself i couldn’t, that it wasn’t fair to you or to anyone else. i clenched my jaw and fought so damn hard to keep my hands to myself, to not reach for you. it killed me every single time.”

“we’ve both been hurting for so long,” you say, the weight of everything crashing over you, “let's not hurt anymore.”

his forehead drops to yours again, and his breath mingles with yours, shaky and uneven. “i love you,” he says, voice raw and full of longing. “i’ve loved you through every second of heartbreak, through every moment of pretending. i don’t want to lose you ever again.”

“you won’t,” you repeat, your voice barely a whisper but carrying all the love and hope you’ve held onto. “not this time. we’re both here, and we’re not giving up on each other again.”

he closes the small distance between you, his lips finally pressing against yours, a kiss that’s both desperate and healing. it’s messy, full of unshed tears and broken sobs, but it’s real, so achingly real. his hands tighten around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, it almost feels like he's trying to dominate you, but you know wonwoo better than this; you know he's not trying to dominate you, he just needs to feel every part of you to believe this is really happening.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathless and still crying, he lets out a shaky laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “we’re a mess,” he says, his voice full of warmth despite the tears. “but i’d rather be a mess with you than pretend i’m okay without you.”

you laugh, a real, genuine laugh that comes from the heart, and you nod, resting your head against his chest. “me too.” you whisper, your voice filled with a kind of hope you haven’t felt in a long time.

“will you sleep with me tonight?” wonwoo’s voice is small, almost childlike, and he looks at you as though he’s expecting rejection, his dark eyes wide with worry. he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together. “i don't think i've had a proper night's rest since…that night.”

his gaze drops to the floor, and the silence that follows is heavy, as if he's bracing himself for the worst. he’s so scared that he’s asking for too much, so vulnerable and unsure. he shifts awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. his dark eye circles and pale skin don't go unnoticed by you. “we won't do anything,” he adds quickly, his voice trembling. “i swear. i just… i just want to sleep with you. to feel your heartbeat close, to hold you—” he pauses, clenching his jaw, struggling to put his longing into words as he lets out a breath, “it’s the only way i think i can rest, even just for a little while.”

the way he finishes his plea, the unspoken desperation lacing his words, makes your heart twist painfully in your chest. he’s usually so composed, so steady, but right now he looks as fragile as glass, like one wrong move could shatter him completely.

“wonwoo,” you whisper softly, pulling him closer. his head snaps up, and he looks at you with hopeful yet cautious eyes, like he’s terrified to hope for too much. you reach out, resting your palms against both his cheeks, and he freezes at the warmth of your touch.

“of course,” you say, your voice gentle and soothing, trying to reassure him. “of course we can.” your thumb rubs small, comforting circles over his cheeks, and you give him a soft smile. “i’m here, okay? i’ll stay with you.”

wonwoo’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he lets out a shaky breath, relief washing over his face. his hand tightens around yours, and he looks at you as if you’re his safe place, the only one who can mend the aching void in his chest.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice cracking.

“come on, lets have dinner first.” you say as your hands clung onto his, pulling him up with you, and wonwoo takes a tentative step closer, as though afraid you might disappear if he moves too fast. you don’t, though. you’re right there, just as you promised.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can finally breathe; and he does. tonight, he found the appetite that he's lost for the past few months, he even slept through the night for the first time in months. wonwoo prays that this is the kind of future that lies in front the both of you. he doesn't think he could do it with anyone else if it isn't you.

141 notes · View notes

activesplooger · 2 days ago

Note

I have a special request if you’re up for it

summary: you and Adam have this mutual attraction towards each other, but the main reason you won’t take the first step is because you know how high his sex drive is, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem if you weren’t so vanilla. You liked tenderness, praise, gentle touches, and you just don’t entirely trust him to be very accommodating.

do with this what you will, please and thank you

thanks for the request! this prompt was amaze! <33

sorry it took so long for me to do this its been a hectic week (america core)

hope you like how this turned out :]

You and Adam were... complicated, to say the least. Having been friends with Eve, you've heard all about his "inadequacies" in Eden. You thought he was this vile, cocky, arrogant asshole with no redeeming qualities. And then you met, and yeah that's pretty accurate. But, alas, there was an instant attraction.

Eve took you out a few weeks ago to a party hosted by Heaven's elite, a party you'd usually never attend on account of being a lower class angel. So many of Heaven's highest powers were there: seraphims, arch angels, virtues- and the first man himself, Adam. Eve scoffed as he approached, the colossal angel striding up with a cocky grin.

He was beautiful; rugged features, a messy fluff of hair, a nice smile- truly the man. For a moment, you were infatuated... and then he had to open his mouth. The cocky angel bends down to meet face to face with you, "Eve, who's the babe?". Eve rolls her eyes, "No, Adam.". "Fuck do you mean "No"," He says in a mocking voice.

Straightening his posture, he scoffs, his full stature towering over yours. "I mean no, you're not gonna 'cum 'n go' with this one," she asserts sternly. "Cum and go?" he feigns innocence, "I would never-". Before he could finish his sentence, Eve cuts him off, "Adam, I've told her everything about you and us, she's smarter than to get with someone like you". He groans, "Ugh! God dammit! You're such a cock-block Eve!".

Eve's head snaps to the entrance of the party, watching as a tall blonde woman walks in. "Lillith!" she exclaims, beginning to walk in her direction. Shit, was she gonna leave you with this dickhead? You grab her arm and pull her back to you, "Don't you dare leave me-". She smiles softly and chuckles, "C'mon, you're smart enough not to fall for his crap. You can deal with him for a few minutes, I'll be back before you know it!". "But-" you try to protest but she had already strode halfway across the room. Pivoting back towards Adam, your once again met with his smug gaze.

"So," he steps closer to you, "this party blows. I get cock blocked and both my ex-wives show up? Lame.". He grabs you chin and lifts it, "Wanna get out of here?". "What? No!" you respond, a bit offended at the implication. Adam removes his hands off you and holds them up in a gesture of surrender, "Alright, sugartits. Heard you loud and clear. Guess I'm just gonna go and leave you allll alo-". He turns around and pretends to leave, trying to coerce you into leaving with him. "Wait!" you call out. Eve was the really the only other person you knew and she had left and you hate being alone.

He turns on his heels slowly to face you, the ever-present smug look plastered on his face, "Oh? What was that?". You huff and avoid eye contact, "Fine. Let's gooOOOO-". He grabs you by the arm before you an continue and yanks you along as he shoves through the crowd of angels. Usually, this isn't your thing. But, you naively figured you guys would just make out behind the building or something for a bit.

And just like you had thought, Adam takes you out back and presses you against the wall, crashing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. It took you a minute to adjust to his feverent pace, trying to match the same energy that he put into his embraces. His tongue invades your mouth, pushing its way past your lips without permission. Entangling his tongue with yours, soft moans escape your lips.

His hands snake their way under your shirt, kneading your breasts through your bra softly. Okay, this was escalating really fast- As he goes to undo your bra clasp, you pull back and try to pry his arms off you. You chuckle nervously, "Uh let's maybe slow down a bit...". He looks back with his eyebrow quirked up, a confused look on his face,"Huh? What do you mean "too fast"?".

The angel chuckles in a taunting manner, "Wait? What'd you think we were gonna do back here?". "I-I don't know, make out?" you reply. "Look, Babe, I'm looking to screw," he pokes a finger between a hole he made in his hand while wiggling his eyebrows, "I'm not here to share feelings or snuggle. Got it?". He leans in for another kiss but you stop him by pressing the palm of your hand to his lips, "Yeah, I'm gonna pass.".

Adam scoffs and pulls back, crossing his arms over his broad chest arrogantly, "Fine, your loss anyway.". "Bye, Adam," you say with a sigh as you walk away. "Fine, bitch," he mutters.

Since that day, you and Adam have had many encounters, each one identical to the last. He'd hit on you, you'd reject him, and he'd act clueless as to why. Although the attraction is surely there, it would never work between the two of you. Adam's high sex drive could never work for your vanilla self, and there's no way in Hell Adam would ease up on fucking for even a day, let alone for the duration of a relationship. Besides, it's not like he's looking for anything serious.

One day, you run into Adam again in the promenade. The two of you get to talking, laughing, flirting - the usual. He makes and advance, and you reject him, just like every other time. But this time, he snaps. The angel throws his hands up in the air, "I don't fucking get it! You always do this shit!". "Heheh, oh Adam I'm just gonna flirt with you and then totally leave you high and dry! Hehe!" he says, mocking your voice. "That's really what you think I'm doing?" you narrow your eyes at him. He scoffs, "Oh be fucking real! You're such a tease!". "A tease? You're just pissed because I don't want to fuck you!"

He looks at you incredulously, "Do you know how insane you sound?!". "Are you serious? Whatever, I'm out," you turn to walk away. He grabs your forearm and effortlessly pulls you back to face him, "Excuse me? Did I say we were fucking done here?". You try to pry your arm away from him, however, it's pointless against his relentless grip, "Let go, Adam.". "No," he states firmly, hand engulfing your arm tightly, "I wanna know why you're rejecting me.".

You exhale sharply and run a hand down your face in exasperation, "Look, you're a nice- well- you're and okay guy, Adam. We have good chemistry it's just...". "It's just what?" he questions roughly. "It's just that your sex drive is so fucking high! I don't want that, I wan't a relationship with love and tenderness-". "That's fucking dumb," he interrupts. "Exactly! We want different things, so let me go!".

Adam's eyes widen, shocked at the thought of you leaving, "What? No! I can be tender! I prommy! C'mon give me a chance.". "Pft," you chuckle, "not falling for that.". "Falling for what? I can be a real fuckin' romantic!".

"Yeah, right," you chuckle, unconvinced by his promises. "Babe," he grabs your smaller hands in his large one, "one date, that's all I ask! And if it doesn't rock your world then you'll never hear from me again.". You hesitate for a moment. Never hearing Adam's nagging sounds great, plus he'd probably take you out somewhere nice... A heavy sigh escapes your lips, "One date. Somewhere nice, bring flowers.".

"You got it, sugartits!"

Adam followed up on his promise. He texted you to be ready at 5 tomorrow and wear something nice. You didn't know where he would be taking you, he'd simply state that "its a surprise".

The following day, the clock struck 5 and you immediately heard a knock on the door. Swinging the door open, Adam leaned against the door frame with the biggest bouquet of flowers your've ever seen. "These are for you, obviously," he holds out the extensive amount of flowers to you. Taking them in your hand, you examine the flower choice, "Jonquils and white roses, fitting.". "Oh really I hadn't noticed," he mutters, feigning innocence.

"Uh huh," you eye him up and down, surprised at his formal attire. He ditched the robe, instead, he dawned a white suit with lavender and gold accents akin to his usual robe colors. Though, he still wore his exterminator mask. The angel notices your gaze on him and wiggles his eyebrows, "Like what you see?". "Could be better," you state flatly. He scrunches his eyebrows, an offended look on his face, "Better? How?!". Reaching out, you lift the mask off him, "Much better, now I can actually see you.". He turns his head away bashfully, muttering, "yeah, okay, whatever," under his breath as his face heats up.

The two of you arrive at the destination, a beautiful garden-esque restaurant that's completely cleared out. "Woah, this is gorgeous," you state, in awe at the scenery. A cocky grin spreads across Adam's face, "Like it? Being the first man has its perks, I had the whole place cleared out just for us.".

"Its, wow," you walk in further, admiring the set up. The restaurant's walls are covered in vines and flowers, fairy lights hanging from beamed ceiling. A dim glow casts around place, a surprisingly warm atmosphere in the cold outside air. Adam grabs your waist gently and guides you to your table. Roses pave the walkway to your seating, waiters on standby holding wine. Adam pulls your chair out for you to sit, pushing your chair in for you once your sat.

"I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised at this," you state. "Oh yeah?" he smirks, "told I could be romantic and shit.". You take a sip of your wine and chuckle, "Well, your doing a great job of it so far.". "Oh, yeah?" Adam leans in and whispers in a husky low tone, "how good? Good enough to give me a thank-you-fuck after?".

"Nope," you reply flatly. "God damn it!" he throws his hands up in the air in frustration. You laugh and check the time on your phone, "Look at that, you lasted an hour without bringing up sex! That's your best record.". He scoffs, a soft smile involuntarily spreading across his face, "Yeah whatever, fuckin' prude.". __

You two share a nice dinner, the food was phenomenal and the conversation was pretty good. Getting to know Adam was actually interesting, at least for the parts he would open up about. He pays for the meal and leads you outside, the cool air causing you to shiver. Adam kindly offers his jacket out to you. "Thanks," you grab the jacket and slide it over your shoulders, the oversized fabric offering extra warmth across your body.

You take his hand as you walk through the streets of heaven, the action taking him by surprise for a moment. He regains his composure and intertwines his fingers with yours tightly, pulling you to his side.

The walk back to your place is comfortably quiet, just the two of you enjoying the calm atmosphere. Once you arrive to your place, you stand by the door as you say your goodbyes, "Tonight was really fun, Adam.". You move closer to him, expecting a kiss from him before you part ways.

He avoids eye contact, not responding to you, an uncharacteristically shy demeanor suddenly creeping up. "Adam? Helloo?" you try to get his attention by waving your hands in front of him, yet, you get no response. Exhaling sharply, you grab his face and force him to make eye contact with you, "Are you gonna kiss me or what?!".

"I'm trying but now you've got me all weird and nervous!" he finally says, his face now beet red. "Me?! It's not like we haven't kissed before," you respond defensively. "Not like this! It didn't mean anything before," he trails off, his words getting softer. He sighs, running a hand down his face, "Nobody meant anything before, but you do. And now I'm getting all sappy and gross, can't even fucking kiss you without feeling all anxious and shit! See what you do to me?! I shouldn't have ever-". Reaching up on your tippy toes, you cut him off with a soft kiss. He shuts his eyes and leans into it, wrapping his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss. His eyebrows knit together, focused on the tender moment before him.

You try to pull back from the kiss to get some air, however, Adam whines and pulls you back in. Chuckling against his lips, your hands run through his soft brown locks of hair. He trails his lips down to your neck where he nuzzles into you, holding you in a firm embrace. "Don't even think about telling people about this," his says, words muffled against your neck.

"'Bout what? You being a big sap?" you tease. "Shut the fuck up," he mutters. "I'm kidding!" you chuckle, lifting his head off your shoulder to see him, "I hope we can do this again sometime.". The angel smiles softly, pulling away from you and standing up straight, "I'll see you soon then. Night.".

"Night."

He walks away from your doorstep, occasionally looking back at you to make sure you got in okay, already planning your next date in his head the whole way home.

The End <3 __

i love this prompt!!! very me core. i know i talk my freaky lil shit on here but im all talk. im very touch averse unless your on my mentally approved list of people that can touch me, and yet my love language is physical touch or something idfk guys anyway im gonna stop rambling

anyWHOOO, Jonquils and white roses have cute lil flower meanings btw :]

Jonquils: rebirth, new beginnings, and hope

White Roses: loyalty, purity, and innocence

all the things adam was trying to come off as lol

to requester: thanks for the prompt darling! :]

119 notes · View notes

hanniebaeee · 12 hours ago

Text

Welcome Home

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!

Genre: Flufff

Summary: Your boyfriend Hyunjin is so excited to take you home for the very first time. The catch? He's the King of the Underworld, and his home is well...the Underworld.

You stood in the middle of your bedroom, staring down at the pile of clothes you were desperately trying to pack. You had a suitcase open in front of you, but you're not really sure what to pack, really. Because someone wasn't being really helpful with this whole packing thing.

You throw a glance at Hyunjin, who stood leaning against your doorway, arms crossed, watching you.

Hyunjin. The King of the Underworld. Your very own boyfriend, who was bouncing off the walls completely excited for your trip to the Underworld for the very first time.

You'd be spending six months with him in his world, which was an agreement you two came to, to make this thing work. Especially since him being a God restricted his prolonged periods of absence from the underworld.

"Are you almost done?" Hyunjin asked, his voice dripping with impatience as he came over and hovered over you like a shadow.

“You could help me, you know,” You said dryly. “Do I need sweaters? Is your dungeon cold?”

“Excuse you, I don't live in a dungeon.” Hyunjin scoffed dramatically, a hand on his hip. "You don't need a sweater. Actually you don't need half of what you're packing, trust me."

"Oh, I won’t? Then tell me what I should bring, Your Majesty," you said, raising an eyebrow as he discarded a sweater from your suitcase. "You won’t be cold because it's eternally warm where I live."

You threw up your hands in exasperation.

"Ok, fine, fine. What else?"

"Now, get rid of the rest. You won’t need anything." Hyunjin said as he plopped onto your bed, looking far too smug for someone who lived in a literal hellhole.

“Baby, can you please just-” You began, but Hyunjin groaned, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

"You won’t need any of these clothes anyway," he mumbled, dismissing a pair of jeans you had just picked out. “It’s just us down there. You’ll be fine in your skin."

"Excuse me?" You shot him an incredulous look. "What do you mean, I won't need any clothes?!"

Hyunjin giggled, his hands wandering to your waist, pulling you closer.

"Well, if you really want to wear them..." He grinned, but then his smile softened. “But I think you’ll look better without them.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and tried not to smile. You were trying to resist, but the way he gazed at you made it impossible. Hyunjin knew exactly how to tame you.

“You're crazy,” You laugh, as he left soft kisses along the side of your neck.

“Darling, I’m the King of the Underworld. I’m prepared to have my Queen home. You really don't have to worry about anything.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek, just barely grazing your skin. "Trust me. It’s just us and Cerberus. Oh, and a few souls here and there…"

“Hyunjin, I'm genuinely worried now.” You managed, prying yourself off his grip.

“Don't be!! Cerberus will be there to protect you. He's the best dog in the world.” Hyunjin’s face lit up as he spoke of his beloved pet. “You’ll love him.”

“Sure I will.” You said, narrowing your eyes at Hyunjin as he discreetly pushed a stack of clothes away from your suitcase. “YAH! STOP IT!”

“Ok, I'm done,” you finally announced, slamming the lid of your suitcase shut. You turned to face Hyunjin and found him lying on your bed with his arms tucked behind his head.

You barely had a moment to lift your suitcase before Hyunjin was by your side. And the transition from your bedroom to the underworld was...well…unexpected, to say the least. You were surrounded by an eerie, otherworldly glow - and then, everything was bathed in shadows and lit by flickering torches.

As soon as your feet touched the black stone floor of Hyunjin’s home, he held you close and murmured, “Welcome home, my queen,”

You rolled your eyes, even though your heart fluttered. Before you could respond, a deep growl cut through the air.

You froze, whipping your head to the side. There, standing just a few feet away, was Cerberus, Hyunjin’s very own baby - with his three heads, and the most terrifying growl you’d ever heard. Hyunjin grinned as he stepped forward and hugged the massive dog.

“Cerby! There’s my boy! Look, it’s mummy!” Hyunjin called out excitedly. “Now, be a good boy and don’t scare her. We’re on a tight schedule here.”

And just like that, the beast started wagging its tail, all three heads giving you the most intense side-eye, but no longer growling.

“Come on, babe, don't be rude!” Hyunjin said, holding out his hand to you.

You could see how excited he is and you knew that he'd never put you in danger, so you take his hand, letting him pull you closer.

Cerberus let out a low whine and nudged one of his massive heads against you. You froze for a moment, and then reached out to pet him. Surprisingly, his fur was soft under your fingers, and his eyes literally glowed with joy as you scratched behind one of his ears.

Hyunjin’s smirk returned as he watched you interact with his son.

“See? Told you he’s the goodest boy.” He said, kissing your cheek. “And, he’s got your back, babe. He’ll protect you from anything.”

“Protect me from what exactly?” you asked, still petting Cerberus.

“From me, of course,” Hyunjin said with a teasing wink, his hold on you tightening. “You know…so that I don't get carried away.”

You laughed, and said, “This is called digging your own grave, Hyunjin.”

Cerberus huffed and gave an exaggerated snarl, the middle head baring its teeth at Hyunjin’s proximity to you.

“He’s just protective. He’s never seen me like this before, you know.” he said, completely unbothered.

You giggled, rubbing Cerberus's ear affectionately.

Hyunjin’s hands slid down your back and he pressed his lips against your neck.

“I’m so happy you're finally here, baby,” he said, his lips trailing down your throat, his hands now sliding over your waist, trying to pull you into him completely. His fingers caressed your jawline as he leaned down, his lips so close to yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jinnie,” You whispered, and Hyunjin leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He hummed as your fingers ran through his hair, and just then Cerberus let out a deep, low growl.

Hyunjin (clearly frustrated now) shot him a look and said, “I’ve got this under control, Cerby.”

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing as Hyunjin’s hands slid lower, stopping right on your butt, just as Cerberus gave a gentle nudge to your side.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and said, “I swear, you're such a cockblock.”

“He’s just trying to make sure I survive my first night here with you.” you said and Hyunjin laughed darkly, his eyes burning with mischief and desire.

“Oh, don’t worry, my queen.” He murmured, and kissed you again, slow and deep. “And believe me…you’re going to love it here with me.

As you walked through Hyunjin’s obsidian-tiled palace of shadow and flame, you couldn't help but admire the place. The tiles beneath your feet were lit by the golden glow of molten rivers that twisted like veins under the black floors.

Even as he led you to his bedroom, his hands moved down your back, and Cerberus let out a softer growl - almost like a sigh - as if he had given up on trying to stop Hyunjin.

“So what do you think?” He asked, stopping in front of a beautiful room.

You gave an appreciating nod, and said, “I love it.”

“Yeah? You do? Are you happy?”

“What's not to love? I've got the sweetest dog and a completely unhinged god here to protect me. This is perfect.”

Hyunjin looked down at you with that wicked grin of his.

“Babe, you have no idea just how good this is going to be,” he said.

And you couldn't help but agree

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

88 notes · View notes

zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

Text

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean.

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either.

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

“You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong.

None of it was a choice you should have to make.

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give.

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah.

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through.

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone.

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people.

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you.

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?”

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.”

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you.

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

“You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset.

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical.

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle.

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over.

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you.

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break.

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people.

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day.

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby.

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away.

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach.

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel.

Rafe.

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you.

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle.

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms.

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face.

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes.

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else.

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience.

“Put me down!”

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate.

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit.

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.

"Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape.

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much.

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over.

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him.

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over.

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode.

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

2K notes · View notes