#HEY SO………………………………………………THIS IS INSANE

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (05)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 9.4k

Aliyah's Notes: i have two exams in five years and i still haven't slept, so if u notice any mistakes pls ignore them. i'll fix them when i have time, and yes a scene is inspired by the maddest obsession BUT ANYW AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS INSANE AND PLS DONT SCREAM AT ME FOR THE ENDING LIKE IM SO SORRY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

“Hey, you want to know something?” Sarah said, approaching you as you sat quietly at a table, lost in thought. Beside her, two girls: one had mid-length brown curls and sun-kissed blonde highlights, gave you a friendly grin, her energy light and approachable. The other had wavy, jet-black hair that framed her face, her features both sharp and effortlessly beautiful. They were stunning, you thought, in a way that felt both comforting and a little intimidating. “I never liked her. Even back when she and my brother were together, I never got along with Chiara.”

The girl with the highlighted curls nodded, sliding into the seat next to you. “Same here. There’s always been something... off about her,” she agreed, scrunching her nose in a way that made you smile. “Oh! I’m Kiara, by the way,” she added quickly. “Different spelling than Chiara, but I promise we’re nothing alike.”

The girl with the wavy black hair gave a little wave as she took the seat across from you, her smile warm and easy. “And I’m Cleo,” she introduced herself with a slight accent. “Can’t say I disagree with Sarah and Kie here. Chiara’s just... kind of a staple at these things. She’s always been around, so the guys still invite her out of habit.”

“And if they didn’t, she’d probably throw a tantrum,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes in exasperation. 

You felt a warmth creeping into your cheeks as you looked at the three of them, surprised by how welcoming they were. “Thanks, girls. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said shyly, offering a small smile. 

“Girl, we know who you are,” Cleo came to sit on your side and nudged you softly. “But don’t worry, you’re part of the group now—Chiara who?” she joked, making you all laugh.

You cleared your throat, glancing between the three girls who were deep in conversation. The question had been sitting heavy on your mind since the moment you met Chiara. “So… Rafe and her—did they used to date?”

The girls exchanged a look, the brief silence almost uncomfortable. It was as if they were weighing their words, deciding what to say or what to hold back. Their reluctance only made you want answers more. Who was Chiara to Rafe, really?

Finally, Sarah glanced away, a frown crossing her face. “It’s… complicated.”

You couldn’t help but lean in, unable to stop the curiosity stirring in your chest. “How complicated?” you pressed. “Were they exes? Friends with benefits? Did they break up right before Rafe and I got together? Or was it just her holding on to a crush he never—”

Kiara gently placed a hand over yours, her eyes warm and understanding. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to overthink it, alright?”

You sighed, the uncertainty making your stomach twist. “I just wish I knew what they are—or were—to each other. Rafe hasn’t said a word about her. Not a thing.”

Cleo gave you a sympathetic look, and Sarah hesitated, biting her lip as though weighing whether to say more. Finally, she began, “Wait, so he really didn’t tell you about what they—”

But Sarah’s words were cut off abruptly as Rafe’s voice broke through the noise of the party. “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

The girls turned toward him, their expressions ranging from surprise to mild disgust.

Kiara shot him a skeptical look, brows raised. “Who did he just call ‘sweetheart’?”

Cleo’s eyes widened as she put her hands up in mock innocence. “Definitely not me.”

Sarah shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Don’t look at me. My brother’s never called me any nickname. So, nope, not me either.”

Their eyes turned back to you, and it clicked. Rafe’s gaze was fixed on you, his face serious, almost imploring. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Chiara. She was a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation with JJ, yet her eyes were unmistakably trained on you and Rafe. Her expression was unreadable, something between irritation and curiosity, and the ambiguity of it only frustrated you more.

Rafe’s voice softened, his eyes searching yours. “Y/N, let’s go. Please?”

“I’m serious about her, Chiara,” was what Rafe replied earlier, his voice firm but before you could register the words, Chiara grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the garden without so much as a second glance in your direction, leaving you alone in the middle of the party—feeling like a complete idiot.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Rafe’s words. It was exactly what you’d hoped to hear, but his delivery had been off, and the way he left with her immediately afterward left a sour taste. You remember watching them through the windows. Their conversation looked intense. Chiara’s hands moved wildly, gesturing with a frustration that seemed matched by Rafe, who kept sighing and tossing his arms up in exasperation. Whatever they discussed, it was clearly charged.

But now, Rafe was standing in front of you, his expression unreadable as he asked to talk. About what? You didn’t know. Maybe he’d finally explain who Chiara was to him or put to rest the suspicion twisting in your gut, though you doubted he would. Instead of lingering on the countless possibilities, you took a steadying breath, nodded, and followed him outside.

The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the party’s warmth, and you found yourself standing on the porch beside him, facing the quiet street. For a moment, silence fell between you, thick and awkward, as if neither of you knew where to begin. He glanced at you and you felt a flicker of anticipation mixed with unease, wondering what he’d say—if he’d finally give you the answers you were looking for.

Rafe leaned against the porch railing, arms folded, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “Look... Chiara just… she doesn’t handle change well,” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive. “She’s just… used to things being a certain way. She's dramatic."

You crossed your arms, holding back the questions building up. “Right. So, she drags you outside because she’s feeling… what? Dramatic?”

He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, jaw tightening. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice clipped. “She’s… she’s just not used to seeing me with someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light. “Oh, so I’m the problem?”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it’s not you. It’s…” He paused, as if weighing how much he wanted to say. “She just thinks… I don’t know, she has her own ideas about things. She probably assumed things were the way they used to be.”

You frowned. “Used to be?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and when Rafe didn’t answer right away, you continued. “So, you two were… what? Together?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Things just... overlapped for a while. It was just… a thing. A long time ago.”

Your patience was wearing thin. “And by ‘a long time ago,’ you mean… what? Last week? Last month?”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shit, why does it matter? Whatever it was, it’s over, alright? I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you.”

“Maybe you do need to,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks heat. “I think I deserve to know when I’m about to walk into a situation where some girl is going to pull you away and act like I’m the one intruding.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not just ‘some girl.’ She’s… someone I’ve known for a while. And she’s… complicated. Okay?”

“Right. ‘Complicated.’” You let the word hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it’s just so complicated that you couldn’t even bother to tell me about her before dragging me into this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “It’s not like that. I just… I didn’t think she’d show up here. I didn’t think it would matter.”

You shook your head, folding your arms tighter around yourself. “Well, maybe it does matter, Rafe. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she has some claim on you.”

"What?" Rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he straightened up, clearly done with the conversation. “Look, she doesn’t have a fucking ‘claim’ on me. It’s nothing. Just… drop it.”

The bluntness of his words stung, and you took a steadying breath, keeping your voice as even as possible. “Fine,” you said coolly, shrugging as if you weren’t affected. “But you might want to let her know that.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before his gaze met yours again. “You’re overthinking it. She’s… she’s just used to being a part of my life, and now things are different. She’ll deal with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Funny, because from where I was standing, it didn’t look like she was planning to just ‘deal with it.’ It looked like she was… I don’t know, trying to stake her territory or something.”

Rafe sighed, looking away again. “That’s just how she is. She’s always… been intense. Doesn’t mean anything.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to jealousy. “So, I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend she didn’t pull you, my boyfriend, outside to… to lecture you about me?”

“Exactly,” he replied, his tone abrupt. “It’s just noise. Don’t pay her any mind.”

The simplicity of his response only fueled your irritation. “Right. Because I should just… ignore all of this and act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to make a scene,” he said, his voice sharper now. “And I didn’t think she’d come here tonight. She just… showed up, okay?”

You paused, studying his expression, which was a mixture of defensiveness and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, what’s the story with her?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, though you knew it was anything but.

Rafe let out a frustrated breath. “There’s no ‘story,’ alright? She’s just… she was around for a while, that’s it. We had… an understanding.”

You raised an eyebrow, the vagueness of his answer only adding to your frustration. “An understanding,” you repeated slowly, crossing your arms tighter. “Well, it seems like she didn’t quite get the memo that whatever ‘understanding’ you had is over.”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the house as if hoping someone would interrupt. “She’ll get over it. I just didn’t expect her to… make it a whole thing.”

“Maybe she made it a whole thing because you haven’t made it clear to her that it’s… nothing,” you said, emphasizing his own words back to him.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It’s not like we're actually together. This—" he said, moving his fingers between you two "—is fake, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, right, because it’s so normal for the girl you used to have… whatever with to show up at a party and act like I’m the one intruding.” You shook your head, exasperated. “Forgive me for wanting to understand the situation.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “It’s just… old history. Not worth bringing up.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of that before dragging me into this,” you shot back, your voice laced with frustration.

He finally met your gaze, his jaw set. “Dragging you into what? It’s not like I invited her here.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Did you invite me here to watch your past blow up in front of us?”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh. “This is what I get for trying to bring you around my friends. Next time, I’ll keep it strictly professional. How’s that?”

You felt a pang of hurt, but you masked it with a tight smile. “Perfect. I’ll remember that for next time, Rafe.” You turned away, taking a few steps back toward the house, hoping he’d get the hint that you were done.

But Rafe’s hand closed gently around your wrist, stopping you. “Wait.” His voice was low, reluctant, but there was a softness there you hadn’t expected.

You turned, catching his gaze, which had softened just slightly. “What?”

He hesitated, then let go of your wrist, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I just… I didn’t expect her to react this way. I thought… things were clear between us.”

“Clearly, they’re not,” you replied, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

Rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll try to talk to her, alright? Make sure she understands. But can we just… leave it here?”

You watched him, seeing the frustration, the tension in his shoulders, and you knew he wasn’t about to tell you any more than he already had. So, instead of pushing it further, you forced a casual shrug. “Fine. Whatever. It’s none of my business anyway, right?”

A flicker of something passed across his face—surprise, maybe, or regret. “Right. It’s not,” he said, though his voice was quieter, as if the words didn’t sit right with him.

You nodded, biting back the urge to say anything more. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

An awkward silence settled between you, the tension thick and unresolved. Rafe shifted, glancing toward the house. “We should get back. People will start talking if we’re both out here too long.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The sarcasm was sharp, but you didn’t care; you were too irritated to soften it.

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and apology, but said nothing as he turned to head back inside. You followed a few paces behind, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, every unanswered question lingering like a shadow.

Before reaching the door, Rafe paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glanced back at you. “Listen…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s… just a lot, okay? Give me some time. I’ll sort it out.”

You held his gaze, unsure whether to believe him, but you nodded once. “Fine. But make it clear, Rafe. I’m not here to play second fiddle to some girl from your past. My life is on the line and I don't have time to worry about this sort of thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say, he swallowed back. Instead, he gave a tight nod and pushed open the door, slipping back into the noise and light of the party. You followed him and plastered on a fake smile while wondering if you’d ever get the truth out of him.

For the next hour, you put on a mask, pretending everything was fine—like nothing happened. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered, clouding every moment. What was Rafe and Chiara’s relationship? You forced yourself to focus on the laughter, the music, and the warmth of the people around you, determined to enjoy the night with Rafe’s friends. Yet every so often, your mind drifted back to Chiara and Rafe, leaving an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

Rafe took you around the room, introducing you to his teammates: Topper Thornton, Kelce Miller, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, and John B Routledge. They each greeted you with a friendly smile and a welcoming vibe. You found yourself particularly drawn to Topper's lighthearted humor and Pope's quiet charm, making it a bit easier to relax. But it was the girls who truly helped lift your spirits. Their energy was infectious, and you quickly found yourself laughing and swapping stories as if you’d known them forever.

Just as you were in the middle of an animated conversation, you heard someone call out, "Miss supermodel!" You turned to see Topper staggering toward you with a mischievous grin, clearly several drinks deep. “Come drink with us! You haven’t had a single sip all night!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he swayed slightly, holding up a red cup with a challenging look. He finally came in front of you and you had to shake your head. “I’m sorry, Topper. I can’t drink tonight. I’m on contract.”

He whined and threw his head back. “Why? A little sip won’t hurt you, right? Come on, please.”

You laughed, shaking your hands as he pouted dramatically, swaying slightly. “Topper, you’re wasted! I think you’ve had enough for both of us.”

He held his heart in mock offense. “Oh, come on! Just one tiny sip!” He held out the cup, swirling it a little as if to tempt you. “Look, it’s just tequila! You can handle tequila, right?”

You hesitated, glancing down at the cup and then back at his hopeful face. “I really shouldn’t… If anyone from the agency finds out, I’m in trouble.”

“Who’s gonna know? It’s just us here, right?” He looked around, grinning mischievously. “Your secret’s safe with me. And, hey, you can’t just let me be the only one embarrassing myself tonight.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Alright, one sip. But that’s it, okay?”

Topper’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yes! That’s all I’m asking for.” He held out the cup, his face eager with anticipation.

You took the cup from him, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you as his friends turned to watch, clearly amused by the scene. Raising the cup to your lips, you took a big sip, the tequila burning as it went down. You scrunched your nose at the taste, earning a round of cheers from Topper and the girls.

“There we go! Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Awful,” you teased, wiping your lips. “But now you can’t say I didn’t drink with you.”

Topper gave you a victorious grin. “I knew you’d come through! You’re practically one of us now.”

You should’ve known.

Less than an hour later, you were stumbling across the living room, thoroughly tipsy and clinging to Kiara, who was somehow even more drunk than you. The two of you were giggling uncontrollably, reduced to hysterics over the silliest things—the pretzels shaped like animals, the crooked painting on the wall. Every little thing was hilarious, and the alcohol only seemed to amplify your laughter and loosen your inhibitions.

Lost in your little bubble, you didn’t notice Rafe watching from across the room, his gaze sharp and unblinking as he kept tabs on you. He hadn’t seen you like this before—free-spirited, a little reckless, and definitely wilder than he was used to. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you shout out something along the lines of, “Everyone should just strip already!” before lifting the hem of your top, ready to make good on your words.

That was Rafe’s cue. In a flash, he crossed the room, slipping his hands over yours before you could pull your shirt over your head. His touch was firm, grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "Whoa there," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but his eyes were warm, almost protective.

You blinked up at Rafe, a goofy grin plastered across your face as you realized he was standing right in front of you. The room spun just a little, but his steady hands on yours felt oddly comforting.

“Rafe!” you slurred, beaming as though you hadn’t seen him in days. “Fuck! Isn’t it, like, super hot in here?”

Rafe smirked, shaking his head. “I think that’s just the tequila talking, baby,” he replied, steadying you as you swayed. His fingers stayed wrapped around yours, almost possessive, but he didn’t let go.

You pouted, glancing around at the half-dressed friends who were now laughing at your enthusiastic outburst. “Fine, but I was just trying to help everyone loosen up, you know?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve definitely loosened up,” he chuckled, his eyes scanning you, both entertained and slightly exasperated. “Maybe… a little too much.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “You know you enjoy it.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, but there was something else there, too—like he was seeing a side of you he hadn’t before. “Maybe I do,” he replied, his voice low, almost as if the words had slipped out unintentionally. He cleared his throat, his grip tightening on your hands. “But I also love it when you’re not stripping in front of half my team.”

You giggled, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. “Aww, big, tough Rafe is jealous I haven’t stripped to him first, is that it?”

Just then, Kiara stumbled over, clearly in search of more entertainment. “Hey! Let’s play a game, everyone!” 

Rafe sighed. “Alright, I think that’s our cue to leave,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back at you.

You tugged on Rafe’s arm, leaning into him with a dramatic pout. “Nooooo… let’s play the game, and then we can go,” you insisted.

“Y/N, you’re beyond wasted,” he said, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “I doubt you’ll even be able to play the game right.”

“I am not drunk,” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly. The words slurred just slightly, giving you away. Rafe’s skeptical look only deepened. “I’m just a little tipsy,” you amended quickly, giving him a grin. “Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill.”

He hesitated, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue, but as you flashed him your brightest, most convincing smile, he sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine,” he muttered, finally giving in.

You joined everyone on the floor, settling into a circle with a bottle of vodka at the center and shot glasses placed around. The music was turned down, but the room’s energy buzzed with anticipation. You found yourself between Rafe on your left and Sarah on your right. Across from you were Pope, Cleo, John B, and Chiara, each giving you encouraging grins or a raised brow.

Kiara took charge with a gleeful smile. “Alright, you all know how Never Have I Ever works, right?” She scanned the group, receiving nods all around. “Perfect! If anyone wants to skip a question, you take a shot. Simple enough. Should I start?” She tapped her chin playfully before flashing a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever dated someone at least ten years older than me.”

A chorus of laughter and surprised murmurs rippled through the group as Rafe, Kelce, and Topper each dropped a finger. A few gasps followed, and your eyes darted to Rafe, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"So, you’re into cougars, huh?” you whispered, unable to hide your amused smile.

He shrugged, glancing at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Not anymore,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips. The slow lick he gave his own sent a spark through you, making you gulp and look away quickly. Was it the alcohol, or did he just do that on purpose?

JJ smirked, taking the lead for the next round. “Alright, let’s up the stakes. Never have I ever been in handcuffs…and I don’t mean the kind from a police station.”

The number of people lowering their fingers was surprising. Sarah, John B, Kelce, Chiara, Cleo...and even you. As soon as you put your finger down, Rafe snapped his head in your direction, his eyes wide with surprise. You avoided his gaze, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you focused elsewhere, feeling his lingering stare and the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Lots of naughty people here,” Kiara smirked, eyeing the group of us who had fingers down. Her grin was wicked as she surveyed the room, making everyone squirm just a little. “I see y’all… I see y’all! Alright, someone else ask the next question!”

Topper jumped at the chance, grinning as he dramatically raised a finger. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room,” he declared, looking around with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

You watched as some people—those who were obviously in relationships (and Chiara)—put their fingers down, laughing and giving each other cute looks. You shrugged, you didn’t relate to that question. You didn’t do anything, leaning back as others shared knowing glances. But then, Rafe nudged your shoulder, leaning down close enough for you to feel his breath against your ear.

“Come on, put a finger down,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb grazing in gentle circles, as if to coax you into admitting something.

You shook your head, letting out a sleepy laugh. “I don’t have a crush on anyone,” you slurred, clearly drunk. Your words came out slower, a bit softer, and you could feel Rafe chuckle beside you, probably entertained by how far gone you were.

“Did you forget we’re together?” he asked, amused. Without waiting for your response, he took your hand and put a finger down for you. His touch was gentle, yet possessive.

JJ spotted the exchange, laughter bursting out of him as he pointed at you. “Oh, damn, Rafe! She actually forgot she even likes you!”

Rafe shot him a mock glare, flipping him off with a grin. “That’s on you, fuck-heads, for handing her all those shots,” he retorted, pointing an accusatory finger around the group. “We’re gonna head out soon if she keeps this up.”

“No! Don’t go!” Cleo’s voice suddenly cut through, practically pouting. “I like her! Don’t take her away from me—us!”

Pope waved his hands, laughing as he tried to steer the game back on course. “Alright, let’s just keep this moving before the girls start crying. Here’s one—never have I ever had a threesome.”

The room went quiet, people hesitating to react. Then smirks appeared, and the accusations started flying at JJ, with Topper and a few others pointing fingers. “Come on, man! We literally saw you making out with two girls at once last month!”

You felt the conversation slipping in and out, barely paying attention to the bickering. Your head felt heavy, and with each passing second, you found yourself drifting further. Almost without realizing it, you leaned into Rafe’s shoulder, your head resting there like it had always belonged. His arm wrapped around you, hand trailing up and down your shoulder in comforting circles, and you closed your eyes, feeling strangely at peace. His warmth surrounded you, making the noise around you blur into the background. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you could stay like this forever.

Across the room, Chiara’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the two of you, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. Her stare was sharp, piercing, and a flash of something darker seemed to flicker there.

“Hey, guys! Let’s stop arguing and actually play,” Sarah called out, snapping everyone’s attention back to the game. She pointed at you and Rafe, grinning. “Those two are practically out like lights! Okay, here’s one: never have I ever had sex in a movie theater.”

Laughter erupted again as John B hesitated, clearly too shy to admit to anything. You looked up at Rafe, raising an eyebrow playfully as if to ask if he’d ever done something like that. He met your gaze, shaking his head.

When he raised his brow to ask you the same question, you mimicked his gesture, shaking your head. But then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned into him, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Bathrooms, though… I’ve done it there.” You weren’t sure why you said it—he hadn’t even asked. “I don’t know if that counts…”

Rafe’s brows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re freakier than you look.”

You chuckled, leaning back. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t look like the type?”

He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes wander over you, his gaze lingering on your lips before it drifted back up to your eyes. “Not exactly,” he murmured, voice low.

“Oh?” you asked, hand drifting to rest on his thigh, watching the glint in his blue eyes intensify as he looked down at your hand. “Come on, Cameron. Tell me what I look like, then.”

His fingers traced light patterns under the hem of your shirt, brushing over the skin at your waist in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You look like you want to be fucked roughly,” he paused, letting his words linger before he added with a smirk, “but maybe you should get some sleep instead.”

You playfully swatted his arm, pushing yourself upright with a laugh. “Screw you, Rafe.”

With a grin, he pulled you back to his side, wrapping his arms around you as you settled against him again. “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle but teasing. “You know I’m just messing with you—”

Chiara Romano’s voice cut through the chatter with an edge sharper than before. “Okay, my turn now,” she said, raising her head, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel uneasy. “Never have I ever…” she paused, letting her gaze linger on you a moment longer, her lips curling into a smirk that held none of the warmth and humor everyone else’s questions had. “... never have I ever filmed myself in the bathroom puking my guts out after eating.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. You felt the air freeze, every eye darting to Chiara in disbelief, and then back to you. The words hit like a punch to the gut, and the humiliation was instant and overwhelming. Your face flushed as the awful memories flooded back—the horrible moment that video had been leaked, exposing your bulimia to the world without mercy. You’d spent months trying to rebuild, to reclaim your own story, but now it was out in the open again, with a cruelty that left you breathless.

Your cheeks flamed with humiliation, and your chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room. You felt every gaze on you, piercing, questioning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s eyes. Your fingers curled around your tighs, gripping tightly, almost leaving red marks.

You closed your eyes the moment you felt tears coming up. You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, it was embarrassing enough that they got reminded of the most embarrassing moment of your life—crying would embarrass you even more. None of them know what you went through after that video got leaked. No one knew the nights you spent in rehab centers getting mocked for the video—as if everyone there wasn’t in because of mental illnesses too. They didn’t know the amount of strength it took for you to finally get clean… only for you to relapse again this afternoon.

They didn’t fucking know!

Rafe stood up beside you, his body going tense beside you. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck is wrong you?” he yelled, his voice sharp, like he was barely holding back.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, though the smirk stayed firmly on her face. “What? I thought we were all sharing our secrets here, right? After all, the video has already been leaked for everyone to see, like, years ago… didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

You felt like you were drowning, the walls closing in on you as Chiara’s words rang in your ears. Without thinking, you bolted for the door, the need to escape driving you forward. You pushed past Rafe, who instinctively reached out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to get out, away from the judgment, away from the stares that felt like daggers. The cold night air hit you as you stepped outside, but it didn’t matter; all you could think about was putting as much distance between yourself and the party as possible.

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching you instantly. You stumbled through the downpour, your heart racing as you made your way toward the car, the asphalt slick and glistening under the streetlights. You couldn’t believe it had come to this, running away like some frightened child, but the humiliation burned too fiercely to stand another moment.

Behind you, you heard Rafe call out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. “Y/N! Fuck—wait!” He sounded frantic, his tone a mix of worry and urgency. You could hear him rushing after you, his footsteps splashing through puddles as he chased you down.

“Just leave me alone!” you shouted over your shoulder, the words coming out more desperate than you intended. You didn’t want to feel his pity, didn’t want him to see you like this—broken and exposed. 

“Look, I’m so sorry for what she—”

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Rafe!” you turned around to see him running toward you. His clothes clinging to his body. “Just go back there, and leave me alone for the night, alright?”

“I’m not leaving you!” he shouted back, his voice firm. You could hear the determination in his tone, and it both soothed and angered you. Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

You reached the car, fumbling with the door handle, your fingers slipping as the rain poured down, obscuring your vision. You wanted to get inside, to hide from everything—from Chiara, from your mistakes, from the shame that clung to you like a second skin.

Just as you finally got the door open, Rafe was there, blocking your way. He stood next to you, soaking wet but unbothered, his expression fierce and protective. “Y/N, please,” he urged, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Come on… Just… just talk to me.”

His presence was grounding, but you couldn’t shake off the overwhelming tide of emotions surging through you. “What’s there to talk about?” you asked, your voice broke. “It’s all out there for everyone to see. I couldn’t handle it back then and I… I can’t handle it now. I can’t…” you felt tears pooling at your eyes.

Rafe took a step closer, rain cascading down his face, but he didn’t reach for you. Instead, he held his hands up, palms facing you. “Don’t run away from this.”

“Watch me,” you shot back, glaring at him through tears. “You can’t fix this, Rafe, so just let me go.”

“I am not letting you go,” he insisted. “What she did was cruel—she felt miserable seeing us together. You know better than this.”

“Do I?” you echoed, feeling your own resolve wavering as you locked eyes with him. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with the history she just exposed. You’re not the one who’s been ridiculed for something that was leaked against your will!”

“Neither am I the one hiding in a corner, sulking because some jealous bitch decided to take a cheap shot,” Rafe countered, his frustration evident. “You’re stronger than this, so stop acting like you’re not. Stand up for yourself!”

“Stand up for myself?” You laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the rain. “And how do you suggest I do that? By going back there and asking her to apologize? By acting like it doesn’t hurt?”

“Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s getting to you?”

“Because it’s easy!” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “It’s easier to run away and hide than it is to face the pain! Don’t you get that? I thought I was done with all of this, and now I’m just… I’m back to square one. I thought you understood me better than that.”

“Clearly, I don’t,” he said, his tone cutting. “You want to hide, and I’m not going to let you hide from yourself. I care about you, Y/N...”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, caught between anger and a flicker of something deeper. “What you care about is saving face. You want the perfect girlfriend who can handle anything. But I’m not that person, Rafe. I’m a mess. I have issues, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”

He stepped closer, the tension between you thick and electric. “And I’m not asking you to pretend. I’m asking you to be real. To be honest about what you’re feeling. We can face this if you’d just let me help you instead of pushing me away.”

You hesitated, the rain drumming a steady rhythm around you as you stared at him. “Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe I don’t need anyone to fix me.”

“Then why the hell are you running away from this?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “Because it’s too hard? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Life is uncomfortable, Y/N! That’s the reality, and running away doesn’t change that.”

“I just don’t want to do this right now,” you shot back, the weariness of the night creeping in. “I didn’t sign up for a therapy session. I wanted to have fun, to forget, and now it feels like I’m being dragged back into all the crap.”

Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained. “And you can’t forget by ignoring it. You have to face it, and I’m not going to let you do it alone. If that means we argue, then so be it. But I’m not walking away.”

You looked away, biting your lip to keep the frustration at bay. “Maybe you should. Maybe it would be easier for both of us.”

“Easier? For who?” he challenged but you couldn’t answer him anymore.

You didn’t have the strength to fight. You sighed. “Can you get me home or not?”

He ran his hands through his buzzcut and nodded. “You’re not gonna say goodbye to everyone?” You shook your head, not wanting to get back in there and look at them staring at you. “Alright… get in the car, then.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the cool leather sticking to your damp clothes. Rafe slipped in beside you, his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel. Neither of you said a word, the silence thick and uncomfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass, trying to focus on anything other than the weight of the tension that hung between you.

Your heart was still pounding, the adrenaline from the confrontation lingering in your veins. You could feel the shame gnawing at you, the humiliation settling into a deep, aching hollow inside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe shifting in his seat, glancing at you every so often, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something. But he kept quiet, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked road ahead. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a small, nervous rhythm that betrayed the stillness in the car.

The silence was suffocating, heavy with words unsaid. You could feel the questions he wanted to ask, the concern he held back, but he didn’t press. Part of you appreciated it, yet another part of you wished he would just break the silence, say something to shatter this unbearable quiet.

You stole a glance at him, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched. He was clearly wrestling with something, struggling between respecting your need for space and his own instinct to reach out. But his restraint made everything feel even more surreal, like the two of you were strangers again, pretending not to know each other’s pain.

Eventually, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill of your damp clothes seep into your skin.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, he kept the engine running, his hands still gripping the wheel tightly. He didn’t make any move to get out or say goodbye. He just sat there, glancing out the window before looking back at you, his lips parting slightly as if he might finally say something.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed the door open, stepping out into the drizzle that had softened into a gentle mist. The cold bit into your skin, but you barely noticed. You closed the door behind you, barely looking back, willing yourself not to dwell on the weight of his stare as you turned toward the entrance of your building—but you paused, feeling a pang of dread at the thought of stepping into your apartment alone. The quiet and emptiness that usually felt like a sanctuary now seemed suffocating. You hesitated, glancing back at the car where Rafe still sat, staring out into the rain.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned back and walked toward him, knocking gently on his window. He looked up, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his face as he rolled the window down. The awkwardness was palpable, hanging between you like a fragile thread.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I just don’t feel like being alone right now.” You glanced away, feeling vulnerable, exposed. This wasn’t easy to admit, especially not to him.

Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. He hesitated, the tension in his posture softening as he considered your request. “Uh, yeah… sure,” he replied, though there was a touch of awkwardness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he was the right person for this. Still, he killed the engine and got out of the car, following you toward the entrance.

Inside the building, you moved wordlessly up the stairs together, the elevator’s light out as usual. The quiet between you was no longer charged with unspoken tension but instead carried a strange, subdued calm. Each step felt heavier, and you could feel his presence just a few inches behind you, grounding you in a way that felt strangely comforting.

When you finally reached your door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, flicking on a dim light that bathed the space in a warm, muted glow. Rafe followed, taking in the familiar yet intimate details of your apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. He looked unsure, like he didn’t quite know where to stand or what to say, so he hovered near the doorway.

You offered him a small, grateful smile and gestured toward the couch. “You can sit, if you want. I’ll make some tea or something,” you mumbled, moving toward the kitchen before he could respond. The warmth of your apartment slowly started to chip away at the lingering chill from the rain outside, and you felt a hint of comfort beginning to settle in.

When you returned with two mugs, Rafe had taken a seat on the couch, his gaze still wandering around the room, perhaps more at ease now. He accepted the tea with a quiet “thanks,” and you sat beside him, the silence stretching out once more, but this time it didn’t feel as heavy. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your knees almost touch, and every so often, your eyes meet and then dart away, a faint spark igniting each time.

It’s you who finally breaks the voice, your voice soft. “I’m going to change. I can… One of my friends’ left his clothes there, I can give them to you, if you want?”

Rafe looked up from his mug, his expression caught between surprise and a hesitant relief. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be great,” he replied, glancing down at his damp clothes, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

You rose from the couch, moving to your room to dig through the small pile of clothes left behind from friends. Finding an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants, you returned and handed them to him, offering a half-smile. “They might be a little big, but better than wet clothes.”

He nodded, accepting them with a quiet “Thanks,” and stepped into the bathroom to change. The moment he was out of sight, you took a deep breath, feeling the quiet around you settle into something both calm and unfamiliar, his presence somehow easing the edges of your earlier anxiety. You wrapped your arms around yourself, still shaken by everything that had happened, but also oddly comforted by knowing you weren’t alone tonight.

When he emerged, dressed in the loose-fitting hoodie and sweats, he looked different—more relaxed, less guarded. He took a tentative step back into the living room, running a hand through his damp hair as he caught your eye, almost sheepish.

You managed a faint smile, gesturing to the couch again, and he sank down beside you. He set his mug on the table, his fingers fidgeting slightly before he leaned back, settling in.

“Well, I... I’ll just go change. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, your voice soft but inviting. Leaving Rafe in the living room, you headed to your bedroom, slipping into a comfortable black tank top and a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants—the ones Nina, your agent, gifted you when you’d first arrived in the U.S. They were worn in with memories, each time you wore them a reminder of how far you’d come. You removed your makeup and pulled your hair into a ponytail, feeling lighter and more yourself.

When you reemerged, you noticed Rafe standing in the hallway, intently studying a small collection of photos you had on the wall. You approached him quietly, noticing that he was particularly focused on a picture of you from when you were nineteen, dressed in a deep green saree at a friend’s wedding in the States. You were surrounded by your group of friends, all of you smiling.

“You looked beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might disturb something precious in the moment.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling a soft warmth rise in your cheeks. You glanced back at the photo, remembering how special that day was. “I really like this one. I’d just arrived here and didn’t know many people yet. Then a few friends invited me to the wedding, and I felt... confident, you know? Like I could start fresh here. And wearing a saree again just felt like home—the color, everything... It was my first time going to a wedding here.”

“And how did it feel?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You let out a small laugh, recalling the night. “It was just like back home, only better in some ways. No one really knew who I was, so I didn’t have any aunties critiquing me. Though they did make sure I had enough food to last a week,” you chuckled, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. The memory was comforting, a reminder of the warmth that had welcomed you into this new life.

“The color suits you,” he said, his eyes still lingering on the photo before meeting yours with a hint of a smile.

“You sure you’re not only saying that because it’s your favorite co—”

Before you could finish your phrase, he closed the space between you, his hands finding your face as he pulled you into a rough, heated kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a passion that caught you completely off guard, leaving you breathless, swept up in the sudden intensity of his need.

When he finally pulled back, your pulse was racing, and you stared at him, dazed. “Why… why did you kiss me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

A slow smirk spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I wanted to know what you tasted like… again,” he murmured, his voice thick with a teasing confidence that made your cheeks flush.

You swallowed, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips. “And what do I taste like?”

He studied your lips for a moment, then met your gaze with a dangerous glint. “Come il mio,” he said softly in Italian, his words like a promise before his mouth captured yours again, this time slower but just as consuming.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back into the living room, his hands firm as they slid around your waist, drawing you close. He lowered you onto the sofa, his lips moving from your mouth to trace a path down the curve of your neck, igniting your skin with each graze of his mouth. His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he continued kissing you, his breath warm against your skin, leaving you dizzy and yearning for more.

You moaned softly when he kissed and sucked the curve just below your collarbone. His lips pressed firmly against your skin, his mouth hot and possessive. The gentle graze of his teeth sent a jolt of desire through you, leaving you breathless and wanting for more. He lingered there, sucking and kissing with a fervor that made you ache for him, making you grind against him unconsciously.

“That’s going to show, Cameron,” you tried to scold him, breathless, feeling both exposed and exhilarated as he moved lower, tracing the outline of your neck.

A wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “Good. I want everyone to know.” The rasp of his voice, thick with desire, made your insides flutter as he leaned in closer, his mouth capturing the tender skin just below your ear. 

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over you. Your flushed skin, your red and pulped lips, and your hard nipples. He was admiring the evidence of his claim. The look in his gaze made your pulse quicken, both thrilling and intoxicating, as if he were savoring the sight of you beneath him.

“Shit! You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over one of the marks he’d left behind. The softness of his touch contrasted sharply with the heat pooling in your core, making you feel both cherished and utterly desired. “Like you belong to me.”

You sat up abruptly, a surge of confidence washing over you as you peeled off your top, revealing your bare breasts to the air without a hint of shame. Maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over you, filled with wonder and desire, as if you were the most beautiful sight he had ever encountered. Or perhaps it was the intoxicating buzz of alcohol still coursing through your veins, amplifying your boldness.

Either way, you didn't care.

“I’m the luckiest motherfucker on earth,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and awestruck, before sinking back onto the sofa, his lips finding your skin with fervor. His mouth was like fire against your breasts as he sucked and kissed, igniting a wild heat within you. You threaded your fingers through his closely cropped hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the pleasure of his touch. His tongue flicked against your nipple, sending delicious shivers coursing through your body, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gone so long without him.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, your breath hitched with anticipation. His hand glided up your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed him most. “Rafe…” you breathed, your voice trembling with longing. “Please…”

“Please what?” he challenged, his tone teasing but laced with desire. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Just… touch me. I want you to touch me,” you moaned, your hips instinctively rolling against his hard cock-straining against the fabric of the sweatpants you gave him.

“Touch you where?”

His playful question sent a spark of frustration through you, and instead of answering verbally, you guided his hand, placing it firmly on your pussy. “Here. Touch me here. Please…”

In an instant, your pajama pants were gone, discarded like the inhibitions that had held you back. He kissed his way down your stomach, trailing hot kisses over the fabric of your panties, before moving to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t resist glancing down at him, but something tugged at your thoughts. You called out his name, your voice breathy.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking up with hunger.

“Take it off.” You pointed at his shirt, and without hesitation, he stripped it off in one smooth motion, revealing his chiseled torso. He climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, radiating warmth and strength. You couldn’t help but reach out, exploring his body—his hair, his lips, his broad chest, and the defined muscles of his abs.

With a sudden intensity, he kissed you again, their lips melding together as if they were made for one another. But after a moment that felt too short, he pulled away and descended between your legs once more.

Just the image of him between your legs could make you come.

“God, I want to taste you,” he groaned, his fingers touching your clit through your panties. “Tell me, pretty, do you want me to taste you?”

You nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“I do,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. “I want you so fucking much, gosh!”

As the heat in the room swelled, just when you thought Rafe would finally remove your underwear, he suddenly stopped. His hands ran frantically through his hair as he began to pace around your living room, his agitation palpable. Confusion washed over you, your brow furrowing in concern as you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Rafe, please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head, the anguish in his eyes cutting through the atmosphere like a knife. “I can’t do this—”

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Panic tightened your chest as you searched his face for answers.

“Have sex with you,” he finally admitted, his gaze finally locking onto yours. “I can’t have sex with you, Y/N.”

The world around you faded, and a cold wave of vulnerability crashed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and raw. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you scrambled to grab your black top from the floor, pulling it over your head, a desperate attempt to cover not just your body but the aching hurt in your heart. “Wha… why? Why can’t you? We were doing so well… I thought it was good.”

Rafe stepped closer, his expression softening but shadowed with pain. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, but instead of comfort, it felt worsel. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. But then, he turned and walked toward the hallway to put on his shoes, and the ache in your chest grew.

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Panic surged through you as you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door to block his path. “Tell me why,” you insisted, your voice cracking as you wiped away the tears that had begun to fall.

“Y/N, you’re drunk…”

“So are you! You’re tipsy!” you threw your arms up in frustration. “Why does that matter? I want you. You want me—”

“Because I don’t want you to regret it,” he said, his voice breaking as if the words were tearing him apart. He sighed deeply, the weight of his decision hanging heavy between you. “I don’t want you to hate yourself when you wake up in the morning because you slept with me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rafe. Please don’t leave. Stay here with me—we don’t have to do anything,” you pleaded, desperation dripping from your every word. 

But his mind was made up. He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours one last time, a sweet farewell filled with unspoken emotions. As he asked you to step aside, you felt a piece of your heart crack. You moved reluctantly, watching as he walked toward the elevator, each step echoing in your mind like a countdown to the end.

Just before the doors closed, he turned back, his expression a mixture of regret and sorrow that mirrored your own. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

And then he was gone.

Since then, you haven't heard from him in two weeks.

chapter six

[meliciousmel13]

➛ munch

paring: overworked!billie x wife!reader

warnings: literally just filthy smut with a little plot, riding, eating out, kind of pathetic billie(?) just at the beginning though, mirror sex, billie calls r good girl, strap-on sex, kind of proofread

wc: 2,433

SYNOPSIS: billie won’t stop working, you want to go out but she won’t leave the studio. you had an idea of what to do.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: here's another fic since last week i didn't post anything.

she was always in the studio. always. whether it was 3 am or 4 in the morning. you never got to see her besides when she got out the room to get water, or take a 5 minute break (which was apparently enough time for the whole week).

you never saw her. you understood. she had to work on her new album. it was just work. but the amount of times your slept in a cold bed was getting tiring, and kind of depressing, considering you barely saw your wife, when she was your wife.

“billie?” your soft voice echoed through out the home studio, billie didn’t notice you with her headphones on, “bills” you repeated her name, slowly entering the studio and standing behind her, she finally noticed.

billie removed her headphones and looked behind her, a tired smile finding it’s way on her face, “hey baby.” she said, while looking up, and taking your hips in her hands. you were wearing a silk satin robe, which was driving her insane.

“hi.” you smiled as billie kissed your stomach, “i wanted to surprise you.” you said, enjoying her hands on you, she hasn’t touched you in three weeks, and you were getting desperate.

“wanted to surprise me?” she smiled, for the first time in weeks, she almost forgot how happy you made her, almost forgot about you.

“yeah,” you smirk, untying you robe and seeing billie’s eyes widen. you were wearing almost nothing underneath, just lacy underwear.

“so it’s that kind of surprise?” she chuckled, trying to act like seeing you half naked in her studio didn’t affect her.

you hum, removing her hands on your hips getting in front of her and sitting on her desk, spreading your legs, “you can’t touch me though,” you said, tilting your head to the side, which made your untied hair go that way.

billie thought about her album, the amount of work she had to do was piling up each day. but she couldn’t deny you, she never could and never will, “you tryna’ tease me?” she placed her hand on your upper thigh, but you pushed it off.

“maybe.” you smile, innocently, like you weren’t dripping on her desk, “you’ve been working a lot.” you said, nonchalantly, while billie was imagining the way she could take you, “do you also sleep here?” you asked, curious.

“no— i sleep in our bed i just leave before you wake up.” she said, it made much more sense. why you woke up with a pillow next to you every time you woke up, and why her side of the bed was messy.

“how long do you sleep for?” you asked, again.

“six hours…” billie trailed off, couldn’t even look at your face, not like she was looking at it in the first place.

“don’t lie to me billie.” you threatened, closing your thighs, and getting off her desk.

“okay! okay, i sleep for three hours.” billie said, slightly scared of what you might do. you weren’t scared to make her sleep on the couch the last time she even remotely did anything wrong.

“three hours?” you said in disbelief, you knew her sleep schedule sucked, but it was getting borderline unhealthy and insane, “you sleep for three fucking hours? are you serious?” you said.

“no i sleep for two.”

“billie!”

“i’m joking!”

“don’t joke about that, god.” you sighed, with your head in your hands.

billie felt bad. didn’t know how much her not being there affected you, “i’ll take a ten minute break then.” you looked up, mischievously, this was exactly what you wanted.

“fifteen.”

“ten.” she argued.

“twenty.”

“fifteen.”

“an hour.” you smiled.

“fine,” billie caved, laying back on her seat, and looking up at you, “your so lucky your adorable.” she said, and you hummed, sitting back on her desk, scooting to the very edge of it, and billie immediately sat up, like she was trained to do it.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” she breathed, almost absentmindedly, your belly burned a little, but not from that fiery pit that had been present earlier. this was desire. you felt desired.

“bills,” you whimpered as she lifted one of your legs to kiss along your thigh. she focused all her attention on the one thigh, running her hands and lips over the soft skin.

“jesus christ,” she whispered, watching your skin dimple under her fingers. she squeezed it harder, her lips climbing up your thigh. she brought one hand to your other thigh because she knew she wouldn’t be able to give it the proper attention it deserved before she got hungry and dove right in. the faint smell was already driving her wild.

you whimpered again when she got to her destination. you could feel her heavy breath against your underwear. she looked up at you pleadingly, her pupils drowning out her bright blue irises.

“can i take them off?” she asked, running her thumb over the lacy waistband. you shuddered and nodded, unable to make out any real words. she bit her lip and took your underwear off, throwing the white lace behind her.

“holy shit,” she sighed, eyes locked on your wet pussy. “i wanna eat it so fucking bad, baby. please,” she pleaded, her voice cracking in desire. you looked down at her, watching her throat bob as she swallowed thickly. like she was genuinely drooling.

you didn’t feel pressure to say yes, but you felt it would be cruel to say no. billie wanted it so bad.

“yes.”

billie gasped, her warm breath fanning over your folds. she licked her lips. “slowly, please,” you said, your words shaky. she nodded and looked up at you briefly in confirmation.

she looked back down and used her thumb to spread you apart before her tongue dove in. you moaned loudly at the contact, watching her lap up every crevice with fervor. her nose bumped your clit, and her mouth opened eagerly, exploring your pussy with her skilled tongue. she dipped it into your entrance, groaning at the taste that flooded her. the vibrations set you into a fit of complete pleasure, so she continued humming softly as she ate you out.

she devoured you like a woman starved, lapped and groaned as if she hadn’t eaten in days and you were a desert oasis. her hands gripped your hips, pulling your pussy as close as possible to her mouth. like this was a privilege she’d never again be able to afford.

you built up to your high quickly, thighs clenching tightly around her head. “b-billie, i’m gonna—”

you whined when she pulled away, looking down at her in betrayal. her face was coated in you from the nose down. she only licked her lips, not bothering to wipe the rest of it off.

“not yet,” she said lowly. she managed to look away from your pussy, despite how much she just wanted to dive in and stay there the rest of the night. “i’m gonna go get the strap, alright?”

your eyes widened and you nodded, unable to formulate words. you hadn’t been able to feel the strap for months now, your rare and short meetings with her between shows, and business meetings were short lived, only able to kiss for barely a minute before someone barged in.

she pressed a kiss to your knee and got up, a bright smile on her face that didn’t match how much she was about to wreck you. she disappeared into the studio’s door, probably rummaging frantically in the closet and box where all the toys were. you closed your eyes, trying not to touch yourself at the thought of her.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” billie breathed from above you. you opened your eyes, crossing them when you saw the dildo fastened to billie’s hips. you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the plastic tip, making billie gasp.

“you wanna suck it?” she asked. you just nodded eagerly and opened your mouth. you wanted to feel it in every way possible after being away from her so long. she held it by the base and fed it to you, your lips wrapping around the plastic.

“good girl,” she praised, watching intently as you took whatever you could into your mouth, which wasn’t much, “you can take more can’t you angel?” she said, gripping the back of your head and making you gag against the dildo, “breathe from your nose, don’t— don’t panic baby.” she said.

you felt yourself leak onto the desk as she praised you, you sucked it a little longer, until the desire was too much and you pulled away, panting. she was panting as well, having thoroughly enjoyed the show you just put on for her.

“you wanna ride me?” she asked, knowing what your answer would be.

you nodded eagerly, practically drenched at the idea. “alright, baby,” she said, grabbing your waist and moving you aside for a second. she laid back on her chair, breathing heavily, the dildo jutting out from her hips standing tall.

she pulled you into her lap and looked up at you, naked, and needy, she pinched your nipples, making you gasp. “sit on it,” she commanded, her voice dark. it took you a moment to realize what she meant, your mind hazy, but you lifted your hips and centered yourself above the dildo. you let the tip prod your entrance before lowering your hips, moaning as you sunk down on it. you lowered them slowly, feeling yourself being stretched out.

“good fucking girl.” billie groaned. her movements on your nipples stopped, distracted by the sight of you taking her. she put her hands down on your thighs instead, squeezing as you slowly took more of her inside.

“bill— billie,” you moaned, bracing yourself on her clothed chest. you finally took all of her, squeaking in pleasure when she slapped your ass gently.

“fuckin’ look at yourself, messy on my lap. and who was trying to act bossy a few minutes ago hm?” she said, as if she hadn’t begged to eat you out.

you looked at the mirror behind her, she positioned you where you could see yourself on it, “see how— see how fuckin’ pretty you look.” she breathed as you started moving your hips up and down, slowly. “say it. tell me you’re pretty.”

you looked down at her and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “i-i’m pretty!” she nodded her head in satisfaction. “that’s right. watch yourself.” you kept watching yourself, riding her cock faster as the pleasure of it increased. she thumbed your clit, rubbing it as she kept praising you under her breath. you rode her until your thighs burned with the exertion.

“you’re gorgeous,” she said as she started thrusting her hips upwards, helping you ride her. she looked down, watching the dildo go in and out of you. “your pussy too. so perfect.”

you bit your lip, stifling a moan. watching yourself riding her like that was embarrassing, but you didn’t wanna disappoint billie. and, truthfully, it turned you on.

you rolled your hips, and billie was halfway down the chair, practically sliding off of it, she was laid back, with her hands behind her head looking down to see her dick sliding in and out of you.

“getting tired angel? didn’t even do anythin’ yet. you don’t appreciate my efforts.” she said sitting up and holding you from under your thighs, sitting up from her chair. you yelped, wrapping your arms around her neck and not wanting to fall on the cold floor. billie would never drop you though, even though she teased it.

she didn’t pull out yet, just walked to your shared bedroom, still inside you, “billie.” you whimper, grinding softly on her.

“impatient too.” she mumbled putting you down on the bed, “can’t help it,” you gasp as she turned you around, positioning you so you could see yourself in the bedroom mirror.

“wanna’ fuck you from the back,” she mumbled, and took your hips, dragged you closer to her pelvis and you could feel the tip of her cock to your entrance, “you want this angel?” she asked, and you had your head laid down on the bed, nodding, “we can’t have that.” she took you by the hair gently and guided you so you could see.

“see? you can still see me, just in the mirror, kay’?” she smiled, and you bit your lip, as she took the dildo and prodded it at your entrance, sliding it in and filling you up, once she saw that you were still biting your lip, she took her left hand and put her index, and middle finger in your mouth, “fuckin’ look at yourself.” she groaned, you did, you saw the way your brows furrowed and the spit going down your chin, with billie’s fingers in your mouth.

“you like it? you like getting fucked like a good girl?” she asked in-between pants. your face told her all she needed to know, flushed and scrunched up from the pleasure.

your moans got more intense in volume, and she continued her exact pace, wanting to make you cum soon. “you gonna cum, baby?”

you nodded as best you could with her hand still in your hair, crying out her name. she held her pace, starting to sweat from exertion before she could tell you were incredibly close from the way your legs shook.

“come for me. come on my dick.”

you practically screamed, immediately obeying her. your eyes closed tightly, clenching around her dick as she slowed down her pace to let you ride it out. you swore you had seen a glimpse of heaven, your orgasm feeling like it lasted for centuries. finally, though, you collapsed on the bed, completely spent and breathing heavily.

she kept herself inside you as you recovered, waiting to be told what to do. “pull out, please,” you said after a moment. she pulled out slowly, holding your waist with one arm as she used her free hand to take the strap off.

when it was off, she brought you closer, keeping you against her chest as you cuddled up to her. she ran her calloused fingertips over your shoulders and your back, soothing you. your mind felt clear enough after a couple minutes, not feeling so tired anymore.

“this would’ve happened sooner if you weren’t so busy.”

[firewasabeast]

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

[ultraviolet-ink]

An Important Warning:

On November 1, 2024, I received the below comment on one of my fics. I had replied to it, believing it to be in good faith. This person, Leaona Colin, as seen by the Ao3 comment chain and discord profile below, directly messaged me under the guise of discussing my fic, and the conversation was normal for the most part

The conversation started to change into an attempt to strong arm me into commissioning them directly (something that unfortunately does happen through a desperate measure) for an animation project. I had believed, in my naivety, that this was just two artists workshopping ideas until they had mentioned this being a "paid collaboration". Please note that I at NO POINT made any indication of wanting to make a commission or anything of the like. For the full context, I will link our discord conversation in its entirety

At this point, the conversation started to change to the commission, and in my own personal awkwardness/fear of being perceived as rude, I played along because I honestly did not know what to do next. The way that this person has approached me feels like a MUCH bigger red flag than the insane price they came up with. It would be one thing to come into my direct messages and say "hey, I'm an animator and I'm wondering if you'd be interested in commissioning me to draw [scene] as a paid commission", however what I went through was a bait and switch. I had gone into this thinking I would be entering a casual conversation about my fic, about the story, and about my writing process, but that pretense was very quickly dropped after the above polite small talk

Mind you, THIS is the animation that they seem to be requesting between 1800-2200 USD for:

I had debated whether or not I should include the video, but I feel that it is important to bring up due to the insane price and the information that @baratrongirl helped provide me with due to her husband's own experience in this industry (thank you SO much Richard!!)

I have reported the comment to Ao3 and I have reported the profile to Discord itself. This is a warning to fic authors and other fan creators to please, please, PLEASE, be on the lookout and to stay safe. I have also learned of a recent scam in Ao3/FFN comment sections where a wave of commission scammers use stolen or ai art to promote themselves and either make of with the money or send some sort of ai art. There hasn't been any mention of anything for animation, but it is very much possible that the scam is evolving, more info about this can be linked below r/FanFiction: PMs on Fanfiction.net offering me commissioned art r/AO3: Great, the art scammers are now being registered users r/AO3: These comments are starting to be an annoying trend

[girrl1nterrupted]

try me

teasing billie around her family until she snaps ;)

PART ONE‼️- just teasing in this part fr

--------

"billie doesn't even like that show", finneas laughed hitting her knee. you were over at her house for a family gathering and was standing opposite her, leaning against the wall. she was sat, man spreading in her baggy shorts and oversized black jersey. her multicoloured cap shadowed her face but revealed enough to see her playfully glare at her brother. she was wedged between Claudia and finneas laughing in unison with them.

"shut up, I watched it before you did", she rolled her eyes. "oh yeah dude, totally", he replied reaching for his drink. the way she was sitting was driving you crazy. she was so hot. you were lost in your thoughts, eyes wandering up and down her body, thinking of how badly you wanted to be on top of her right now. it wasnt until they all called your name simultaneously that you snapped out of it.

"oh uh, what was that?", your cheeks flush as if they were reading your mind. your filthy thoughts. you started fanning yourself with the collar of your tshirt, swallowing hard. you didnt want to look at billie, you knew a second of eye contact and your knees would give out. still, you couldn't help yourself. you locked eyes with her. fuck. wrong move. she was staring at you, eyes low, biting her raw lips as her hand moved slowly along her thigh. to everyone else, this was normal. to you, you were going insane. that deep stare of hers causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"y-yeah I agree?", your voice cracking slightly as you held her line of sight. the others laughed, including her parents who were sitting on the sofa next to them. they all continued talking, claudia sometimes hitting billies arm when they were joking. except you. you were focused on her. the way her hair fell so effortlessly, her piercing blue eyes, the definition in her face when she spoke or laughed. you wanted her so bad. thank god you were wearing black jeans or, you could've sworn you'd have visible leak marks. why did she turn you on so much by doing so little? little to nothing and you were a mess.

why not have some fun with her?

you approached the table in front of them, kneeling down. "why dont we play uno?", you suggested causing Claudia and finneas to get up and find the cards. their parents were now in the kitchen preparing dinner. taking this as an opportunity, you sat next to her, softly resting your hand on her thigh. you knew what this did to her, anytime your hand touched anywhere, really, she would get riled up. rubbing it slowly, you stared at her. "hey, pretty girl", she said smiling. god, her voice was not helping. you didnt respond, instead leaned your head close to her neck. you felt and watched her breathing get ragged. your lips brushed her throat, moving them to her ear. your hand ran along her arm, squeeing her bicep and smirking knowing she was flexing. "giving me a feel?", you whispered teasingly down her ear.

a soft moan left her lips. "what are you doing?", she replied almost out of breath. "I want you so bad right now", you replied. bilie pushed you back, revealing the desire that swarmed her pupils. her hand gripped your shoulder hard as her fingers began twisting your top. you watched as she sunk her teeth into her lip, bucking her hips up readjusting herself. for a second, you thought she was going to take you right there but, the sounds of the others came into focus, realising youd drowned them out.

"stop", she groaned just as finneas opened the door. you sat up, acting as if nothing happened. the 4 of you began playing with tense, playful arguments filling the room. although you were around people, you kept teasing her. rubbing her arm, putting your hand over hers when playing your cards, letting out moans disguised as frustration. they weren't. billie knew that. every time, she'd shoot you a pained look. a look telling you she was close to breaking. your hand snaked along her thigh, eyes locking in an inviting gaze. it was thrilling.

"getting hot in here, isn't it bils?", you said taking your top off. you had on a crop top underneath, nothing too crazy but to her, it was enough. as if she couldnt control it, you heard a quiet "fuck", come from her, just loud enough for you to hear. finneas agreed opening the window and you couldn't help the tingling from increasing between your thighs at how your girlfriend was reacting. suddenly, a warm, tight grip came around your waist. "lets play as doubles now, yeah?", billies voice surprisingly calm.

"you guys play, im gonna go to the bathroom", you replied to the group, setting your cards down. you stood looking at yourself in the mirror, splashing cold water on your face. you were definitely just as turned on as she was. you were wondering how no-one else picked up on what was going on, you couldve cut the tension with a knife. as you dried your face, you heard the door open and close. looking up, you saw her. face flush, eyes burning with lust, jaw clenched.

you were finally going to get what you wanted.

[kucikitty]

SKZ And Which Body Part They Love The Most~

18+ Mature Content Up Ahead. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Written for F!Reader~

•| ⊱✿⊰ |•

Bangchan - Neck. He loves fucking you deep, burying his face in your neck and taking in your scent. Especially if you’re wearing that perfume that drives him insane. You’ll be hearing nothing but his deep moans and grunts every time you two fuck.

Minho - Ass. OBVIOUSLYYYYY. I mean this one was a given, written in the scripture actually. Ride him reverse cowgirl style and he’s going to bust in thirty seconds. Don’t bend over in front of him (or do) cause his hands will be on your ass. Actually they'll be on your ass no matter what you do.

Changbin - Waist/Hips. Bonus points if you got love handles. He loves to grab onto them as he fucks you deep. Changbin is a thicc lover, I said what I said and I will NOT change my mind!!! He also loves when you wear tight dresses, so it shows them off even more.

Hyunjin - Feet. Alright y'all don’t come at me but I’m a firm believer that Hyunjin has a foot fetish. Wear those heels he likes and he’ll be groveling at your feet. He loves to kiss the soles of your feet when he fucks you in missionary, your legs against his shoulders. Hey you’ll get foot rubs whenever you want with this one so…

Felix - Thighs. Doesn’t matter the size as long as he can slide his dick between them, that’s all that matters. He also loves when they’re wrapped around his head while his tongue is deep inside your pussy. Squeeze his head with your thighs, he does not give a single fuck. If anything he wants the pain.

Han - Tits. The size doesn’t matter either. Tits are tits to Han. He loves to play with them and he especially loves latching onto your nipple, sucking and biting at it while you ride him to the break of dawn. He’s a drooling whiney mess when he sucks on them. He would just grab your boob for the comfort of it honestly. Anywhere too.

Seungmin - Pussy. Seungmin’s a certified munch. Point blank period. He will eat you out till the sun rises and finger you till your eyes roll back. Sometimes he’ll reach in your bottoms and play with your pussy just because he can.

Jeongin - Hands. He loves your hands and especially when they’re all over him touching every inch of his body. It’s a plus when you have your nails done, he loves how they scrape against his skin. He especially loves seeing your fresh manicured hand wrapped around his cock. (Ruby Red color is his favorite).

[thestrangerthinghappened]

hey so yeah what noah said was insane actually! (i know im late to this but i’ve been so busy 😭😭)

“you could never really tell if it was something romantic or just like a really special friendship”

[castiwls]

juno .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'one of me is cute but two tho’

Requested; @mochminnie

Notes;

Masterlist | short n sweet

Children had never really been on your or Dean's radar. Sure when you were younger the idea of a picket fence had sounded nice but now as an adult and knowing the life you currently lived, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that it was not the time for kids.

Well, that was until you ended up in the possession of a shifter baby.

“C’mon, sweetheart you’re not seriously considering it.” Dean laughed climbing into bed beside you. He pulled you into his side with a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been nothing short of insane. He thought he’d seen it all and then suddenly Sam’s back and now he has an extended family he wasn’t sure if he trusted or not.

The only person acting like god damn normal was you. Well, you were until you’d announced that you wanted a baby.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! He was pretty sure he’d also just proved it if the way you’d reacted when he’d given the shifter whiskey was anything.

“Think about it.” You hummed, your tone dreamy almost as the image of him holding the baby flashed through your head again.

“I am.” He responded gruffly as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m thinking and I’m telling you no.”

You huffed looking up to him with a slight pout. Dean cracked an eye open, grinning at your expression. “Don’t pull that face at me. No babies end off.”

He squeezed your body closer to his as you continued to frown. “Can’t we just talk about it? I saw you with that baby Dean, you didn’t look too annoyed then.”

He hummed looking at the ceiling for a moment. Maybe the baby had been slightly cute.

“Though if we do have a kid we are not naming it Bobby-John.” You scoffed. Dean shot you an offended look as he moved back ever so slightly to see your face better.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my naming abilities!”

“You can get middle naming duties.”

“Hey, if we’re doing this it’s my child too sweetheart and I’m not letting you name it somthin stupid like…like Sally.”

“Sally? Seriously?” You shook your head, amusement flashing in your eyes as you saw the playful glint in his own.

Dean nodded. “So we’re at an agreement. No Sally.”

“No Sally.” You nodded.

Dean’s hand rubbed over your shoulder slowly as you sat up, shifting to sit across his lap. He smiled as you came face to face, his other hand brushing a piece of your hair back.

“Think about it. A little baby who’s the spit of me or you? How cute would that be!” Your voice was soft now, the same one you used to convince him to let you pick the dinner place whenever you were bored of his constant fast food.

“Think about it? For me?”

He huffed but fell quiet. A mini-you did sound a lot more appealing than another version of him. The world didn’t need two Dean Winchesters running around.

“I dunno sweetheart, two of you sounds kinda like a nightmare.” You gasped hitting his chest.

“Shut up, a mini version of me would be so cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean!”

“I’m joking.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I think it would be adorable.”

You nodded happily before falling quiet. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?” You said after a moment, peaking up through your lashes.

“Jesus-“ he huffed before taking a breath. God damn it you’d made the idea so appealing.

“It better be a damn girl.” He grumbled before flipping you both over. You gasped as your back hit the mattress before a slow smirk grew on your lips.

“If not we can always try again.”

[cherrycranes]

A Real Man (Jim x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Jim (The Delinquent Season) x Fem!Reader Summary: Dating apps frustrate you. However, one night you decide to try something new and match with an older man. Word count: 4,105 Contents: (Minors DNI). Jim is divorced here. Age gap (Reader is in her 20's, Jim is 43), Oral sex (fem receiving), P in v, unprotected sex, creampie. Author's notes: Another collab with @fuckiingloser cause we are such a dream team! Expect more collabs with her cause she's so amazing. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy!

It was another dull Friday night with no plans. Your last relationship had ended 6 months ago and since then you hadn't been into going out with your old mutual friends. So once more, you found yourself laying on the couch in pajamas watching reality TV and eating a frozen pizza. Six episodes later, even your favorite show had started to bore you. Enough to make you open the Tinder app. 

You had a complicated relationship with it. Constantly deleting and redownloading it in an ever disappointing vicious cycle. Tonight, it was back on square one as you started to swipe through… Just to look of course. 

Unimpressed, you scrolled through the endless profiles of dozens of men you had seen multiple times before. The same guys holding a fish in their profile pictures, the same boring bios, the same social void. Bored with what you saw, a daring idea crossed your mind: going into the settings and raising the age limit… Why not? 

A whole new sea of men popped up in front of your eyes and you started to swipe through, mindlessly scrolling and reading through mundane responses and cringy pickup lines. Until one guy piqued your interest… 

Jim, 43, 2 miles away…

He had very few pictures and minimal responses, but fuck, he was insanely hot. The gentle smile, the pale blue eyes, the dark brown hair with some silvery strands here and there.. You swiped right. 

You browsed a bit more before setting your phone down on the couch. Another episode of your show had started to play and your gaze migrated from one screen to another. Ten minutes later, the sound of the notification made you return.

1 new match and message from Jim. Start convo!

Usually, you would have just swiped, but you felt compelled to message back for some inexplicable reason that just felt right. You opened the app to his message:

“hey… hope your friday night is going well x”

You smiled a little reading the cute message, an adorable reminder that this Jim guy was older. Still, it was that same cuteness that drew your thumbs to the screen and made your brain search for the perfect response. Ideally something cute and casual.

“hey to you too & my fridays good just bored at home. what are you up to?” You sent. Not even 30 seconds passed before you got another message from him. 

“just at home as well… not big on going out, prefer to stay home with a nice cabernet and listen to a few records.”

He responded simply and your smile widened. You looked over at your own pile of records displayed in your living room before returning to the conversation. He was older, sweet and you had a shared interest? Promising. Before you could respond another message popped up:

“forgive me if this is too forward…im not familiar with dating app etiquette.. first day but would you like to come over? just drinks and talking… if not totally okay too.”

Your first reaction after the initial surprise was an obvious no. It seemed logical. He was a stranger and you had just matched a few minutes ago. But another look at his pictures planted the benefit of the doubt in your mind… His sweet shy smile… The soft brown hair… Perhaps going over for just one drink wouldn't be bad. He was only 2 miles away and all your friends had your location. Besides, you felt lonely and he was definitely very cute… 

“i’d like that, what’s your address?” 

You responded. Perhaps a risky decision that, in the best case scenario, would help you to put yourself out there. Optimism had to crawl its way into your brain for this. Your previous misfortune with dating apps and guys your age acting as a key motivator. Maybe trying with an older man could give you a nice surprise.

Now decided, you got up from the couch and freshened up. You did your make up, hair and changed outfits. Changing the comfy pajamas for a pair of black jeans and a cropped green button up sweater that showed off your cleavage just right and left a little stripe of your midriff showing.

The message notification with his address greeted you just as you picked up your phone again. His apartment was a brief walk away from yours.

“be there in 15 minutes”

You messaged back, eyes back on the mirror for some final touches before finally heading out.

The walk was peaceful enough for you to process everything. Your understandable nerves soothed by your own excitement and the thrill of trying something different for a change. All the fears that could have plagued your head willingly subdued to curiosity. The beat of your heart sped up when you reached the door number indicated on your screen and you gave the wood a couple of soft knocks.

Lo and behold, those beautiful eyes greeted you not long after, along with that charming soft smile that was definitely worth the risk already. Jim was wearing a cozy black sweater and his glasses. His soft brown hair fell perfectly over his forehead. It was long enough to have some cute flicks curving up the side of his handsome face. You couldn't help but return the smile.

“Please, come in.” His voice was deep, warm, with the right amount of maturity to it. His stance and mannerisms were inviting and trustworthy. Something about him spelled  “comforting” as he held the door open for you and kindly indicated to you where you could put your shoes.

Up the stairs was this man's living room. Just as you imagined, it suited him to perfection. It was neat and well put together. The color palette was dusky and masculine but not in a threatening way. He was rather practical judging by his choice of furniture.

“Your place is nice.” You complimented, taking a look around. Jim smiled, making his way to his kitchen and coming back to you with a brand new bottle of wine and a glass for you. To accompany the one already set on the sleek coffee table.

“Thanks.” He looked at you with a soft smile and led you over to the chic leather couch. “Only been here about a year or so, still trying to make my space my own.” He sat down, facing you. With expertise he opened the wine bottle and poured a perfect measure in your glass.

“Cabernet Sauvignon from 2019.” He explained, the warm little smile never leaving his lips as he now poured himself some. You nodded, choosing to ignore your own ignorance about wine. The sips you both took right after assured you that you didn’t really need to know anyways, as he had great taste. For the night, you were all set in the drinks department.

“So… I have to ask… Is this what you do to all of your tinder dates?” You chuckled, lightening the mood a little.

“Fancy bottle of wine, moody lighting and records?”. He laughed a bit, and you discovered just how attractive a laugh could be. “No, actually I've never had a tinder date before tonight… I made my profile this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows a little, finding it quite shocking.

“Really?” You asked him and soon, you knew the reason why. Jim explained his past, telling you how he used to be married and had two children. He had been divorced for about a year now. You listened carefully, finding his openness quite refreshing.

“I'm sorry, that was probably too much heavy information for a first date huh?” Jim shook his head a little at himself, and you intervened.

“No… Don’t apologize.” You looked right into his baby blue eyes behind his glasses with earnesty. “I appreciate the honesty… Hard to find nowadays in men.”

He smiled, his demeanor shifting a little, something about him relaxing.

“Well, good.. I wouldn't want to say anything to blow it so fast with you.” Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. A very gentle warmth rose to your cheeks and made you look away in shyness. Your eyes found his record collection as a brand new target to focus on.

“I actually… Collect records too.” You uttered, finding your cool again. You glanced back at him and found that his eyes had lightened up a bit. 

“Ah, really? I love that… You can pick out the next one we play if you want.” He talked softly and you were all smiles. You set your glass of wine down on the coffee table and walked over to his well organized shelves. He separated his records by artist. The ones whose discography you knew by heart telling you that he sub-organized by order of release. You felt something fluttering inside you every time you saw a title you adored. 

His eyes were on you at every moment, studying your shape and colors while your fingers ran over the spines of the records. Finally, one won the selection game and you carefully pulled it out, showing it to him. He smiled, clearly satisfied.

“Good choice… Let me put it on.” He got up from the couch and walked over to you, taking the record from you gently. The touch of his hand met yours and butterflies ran rampant in you. His soft smirk and warm gaze multiplied them.

“Beautiful and has great taste…” He mused. “I’m a lucky guy.” The record met the player and the first track started as Jim led you back to the couch. He topped off your wine glasses and smiled, more than comfortable in your presence.

The wine bottle ran out after a while. The conversation led through a relaxed and flirty direction. Jim was smart, kind, understanding and so handsome. Your body felt the magnetism between you. When you next noticed, you two were closer than before, your eyes sneaked several glances towards his pink lips and the record you had chosen started to play its last track. You had been talking for over an hour. The fastest one of your life.

It had been half a year since you felt this drawn to somebody. The same amount of time since you had last gotten laid. Perhaps it was the wine, but you felt a heat boiling deep between your legs that clung desperately to the prospect of him touching you.

“You know… I’d be lying if I said I didn't find you incredibly sexy…” He confessed in a soft, sultry murmur and with a heavenly smile. He took another sip, those eyes of his never lost sight of you.

“I'd be lying if I said I didn't think the exact same.” You replied, the wine feeding into your boldness. 

“Do you usually like older men?” He asked bluntly with a soft smirk, eager for your answer.

“Honestly, I've really only ever dated guys around my age. But, I’ve always been interested in older men… Just haven’t given it a proper go… Until now that is.” You admitted with a little laugh that prompted one from him too.

“Well… I’m glad you took a chance and came over, gorgeous…” Jim’s words felt like rich velvet in your ears and like an intoxicating need that made you burn. “I'd love to show you how being with a real man can feel…” He whispered, putting his large hand on your thigh over your jeans. 

The action, combined with his voice and his gaze made your pussy clench around nothing and dampen eagerly. The wine, the flirting, the proximity, the last notes of the song. It all got to you two. His thumb slowly moved back and forth over the denim. His hand stayed planted on your thigh rubbing it so softly. 

“Show me… Don’t just tell me…” You whispered back sensually, taking in the depth of his eyes.

Without another word he leaned forward and captured your lips in a hot, searing kiss. So slow yet so passionate. Incomparable to any kiss you had received in your lifetime. His big hand moved up to cradle your cheek and you melted into it. After a few minutes he gently pulled back just to whisper against your lips:

“I'd love to have a taste of your sweet little cunt…”

Your brain went absolutely blank for a moment, trying to process. When you did, you bit your lip and reminiscenced before looking back at him.

“My ex hated doing it..” You admitted with a soft little chuckle. It was ridiculous now even if back then it was a major frustration of yours. Jim, on the other hand, shook his head and scoffed gently.

“That's a boy… Not a man… Let me show you how a real man pleases a beautiful woman...” He whispered and slowly pushed you back onto the couch, laying you down. You looked up at him, finding him smiling as he undid the button of your jeans followed by your zipper. Careful hands tugged the denim down your legs and tossed them on the otherwise cleared floor.

“I want to see this sexy body…” He leaned over to you, his breath caressing your exposed skin and his hands patiently working the buttons of your sweater. He pushed it open, revealing your black lace bra. His eyes raked over the shape, a low growl of approval rumbled in his throat. The slightly calloused tips of his fingers traced slowly over the lace and down to your stomach, stopping right at the hem of your matching thong.

“Jesus, you’re a vision… You’ve got me hard as a rock” He practically groaned to you and your eyes fell to his obvious hard on through his pants. Before you gathered the correct words to respond, Jim laid his head between your legs and planted a soft kiss over your clothed pussy, making you moan at the light contact. His hands reached up and pulled your thong off you, as if he was unwrapping the most delicate of presents. 

“Mmm… Look at that… I can see how wet you are already.” He whispered straight to your cunt. “Did I do that?.”

“Yes..” You nodded once and breathed out. Your pulse was deliciously fast and your pussy was already dependent on him.

“I bet you taste even better than you look, pretty girl...” He murmured before licking a fat stripe up your wet folds. You moaned loudly at the feeling. “Mmm” he hummed. “I could spend all night right here…” He whispered the last words of his you would hear in a short while before leaning back in. His hot tongue dove even deeper into your sweet cunt. Your hand immediately found his soft hair and gripped his brown locks, bracing yourself, for he would devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

“Oh-oh my god!” Your cries were as exquisite as your pussy was. His mouth was skilled and ravenous with you. Your hand tightened on his hair when his tongue found its way to your clit and drew perfect circles around it. The electric sensation traveling all over your lower stomach and intensifying when his lips sucked on your tender flesh. He hummed happily at the way you moaned. To keep you in place, he gripped your thighs and pushed them farther apart. Getting deeper. His tongue slided down and circled your entrance with both indulgence and reverence. And you felt your brain melting into a warm puddle of desire.

“God, this cunt is so wet for me… You taste like heaven.” He pulled back to whisper against your folds before diving right back in. 

You moaned loudly, shamelessly, and Jim absolutely loved it. His tongue rewarded you for being such a good little slut for him by sliding deeper inside.

“Oh fuck-“ You cried out in surprise, and he took it as a sign. He worked his way up, nibbling on your clit again and again. Your entire cunt was coated with his spit and your own arousal, The feeling in your lower abdomen was driving you wild, you tugged on his hair. Your orgasm built inside you and threatened to boil over.

“If y-you don’t stop- i’m gonna come.” You cried out to deaf ears. Jim continued to devour you like a starved man, making the filthiest wet noises as he sucked and tongue-fucked you. You squirmed on the couch, and he pulled back just enough to finally talk.

“God, you taste so fuckin good.” He moaned. “Sweet like honey, baby...” He completely ignored what you had just said and dived back in. His swirling tongue drilled against your overwhelmed cunt. The edge of his nose bumped your clit and teased it strategically. This man wanted you to come. He needed you to come for him.

“Oh my god- Jim!” You whined so loudly, you could have sworn the words reverberated in the living room. Your entire body was succumbing to the building pressure, surrendering all control.

“Come for me baby… Come on my tongue.” He urged, as if his life depended on feeling you coming on his mouth. He placed wet kisses on your pussy, encouraging the fire within you. The grip you had on his hair became stinging on his scalp and your legs trembled under his hands. Your entire body tingled as the knot in your depths reached its tightest state.

“I'm coming… I'm coming!” You repeated frantically, desperately. You arched into his mouth and closed your eyes. A loud whorish moan, unheard of from you before blessed his ears and, finally, your intense orgasm satisfied you and his hungry mouth.

“Holy shit.” You breathed out. He lapped your release and practically moaned into your pussy as he did. He licked everything clean and you slowly came down from the height of your orgasm, looking down at him as he finally pulled away. 

He pulled back, kneeling between your legs with a proud wet and sticky mouth. He licked his lips, his eyelashes fluttered at your taste. Finally, he showed you a sexy smirk and whispered sensually:

“I hope this little pussy feels half as good as it tastes…” 

You smiled, and he didn’t beat around the bush. His hands took care of the button on his pants and his zipper.

“Now I need you to be a good girl and sit on my cock… a real man makes his girl come twice...” He nearly growled, pushing his pants down and kicking them off. His boxers followed suit. His cock sprung free in all its glory and you gasped. It was painfully ready and throbbing for you.

“Fuck…” You whispered and he smiled proudly.

“Might be a tight fit… But I'm sure we’ll make it work… Won’t we?” He whispered sensually, his hand touching your thigh. 

“Yes please…” You find yourself saying back to him without even thinking, his sexy confident demeanor putting you in a trance. Something no other man had ever provoked in you.

He smirked and sat down on his couch, his hands taking yours and pulling you right onto his lap. You straddle him, a soft giggle escapes your lips.

“This bra needs to go... Wanna see all of this perfect body…” His voice sounded raspier and his eyes much hungrier. On cue, you unclipped your bra and slowly allowed it to join the rest of your clothes and make a mess out of his living room floor. The sight of your breasts made his beautiful eyes widen and his pupils dilate.

“Fuck, you’re sexy… I need to be inside you.” He thought out loud. A part of him still didn’t believe you were there, completely naked for him, sitting on his lap. 

You looked between you, meeting his hard leaking cock that was so desperate to feel you around it.

“I'm on the pill...” You looked him in the eye. “I want you to come inside…” A mixture of boldness and shyness painted the tone of your voice, and Jim grinned sensually.

“Mmm… Naughty girl… Whatever you want… ” He whispered and you leaned back, your cunt ready to take him in. He lined himself up, teasing you by rubbing his tip against your wet folds and effectively coating himself in you. Finally, you sank down. You both moaned in unison. It was heaven.

“Fuck, you’re tight-” He groaned to you and you sank down. His hands firmly found your hips and guided you down. You moaned in response, biting your lip at the feeling of him stretching your tight cunt. After a second of much needed adjustment, you started riding him in a perfect rhythm. His cock hit you sinfully deep.

With eyes locked, you leaned forward and stole a passionate, sloppy kiss from him, which he eagerly returned. You made out feverishly, his arms wrapping around your body holding you so tight and fucking you good.

Jim pulled back from the kiss, planting his feet on the ground for some much needed leverage before starting to pound ruthlessly from underneath you. You yelped and moaned and bounced on his hard cock.

“You like feelin’ full of my cock?” He asked between heavy panting. “This tight cunt like being stretched out by a real man?”

“Yes-fuck yes…” You moaned to him before moaning once more. He pounded on you so deeply and much faster now. Your hands on his shoulders clung to him for some stability. The sounds of skin slapping became much louder than the record on the player ever was. It was overwhelmingly filthy but incredibly erotic.

As you fucked and kissed harder and harder with each thrust, it became apparent that this was not going to last long. The feeling of your tight, wet pussy was driving him too insane.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy.” He moaned into your mouth, making you nod eagerly.

“Yes-yes please.” You begged him with an intensity sourced from your now throbbing cunt. His movements got sloppier, faster. He plowed into you from below as hard as he could.

 “Jesus- not gonna last long- you feel too good…” Jim was running out of breath, but his hips never faltered. You felt just the same, that feeling inside you building up once more. Decided, he held your hips together, sinking his nails into your flesh and found the energy to pound into you even harder than before, hitting that perfect sweet spot deep inside of you.

You whimpered pathetically at the repeating feeling, your cunt throbbed around him in automatic, making him groan.

“So. Fucking. Deep.” You moaned in between his hard thrusts. “I-I’m gonna come...” Your whimpers came already strained and forceless. The dripping sensation between your bodies made you dangerously close.

“Mmm me too baby… You want me to come deep?” His warm voice was hoarse and strained, his cock twitched inside you whenever you clenched. That deep eye contact and lust intertwined with the feeling of your sweet spot harshly meeting the tip of his cock over and over again. It made your toes curl and your lower stomach tighten. 

Throwing your head back, your pussy clenched him tight. You moaned loud and dug your nails on his skin, the promised second orgasm hitting you hard.

“Come deep..” You begged him with an out of breath voice and shivering legs. Jim’s eyes lit up, watching just how beautiful you looked in that post-orgasmic bliss. It set him off. And watching you beg for his cum completely disarmed him.

“Holy fuck.” He breathed out, feeling his body give in to pleasure. His hips slowed and nested his cock in your depths, right before coming out of control.Your fluids and your breaths mixed together, his perfect blue eyes connected with yours.

His cock pulsed, and he emptied inside you with a soft groan. His lips found yours just barely, lingering there.

“Feels so good to fill you..” He whispered, his hot cum spilling into you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, your fingers in his soft brown locks. Relaxed, you shared a soft sensual kiss, basking in the afterglow of the best sex either of you had ever had. 

Pulling away from the kiss and putting your foreheads together, you sit there naked in his living room. Some drops of his cum dripped onto the leather couch. A few minutes passed and you recovered from your orgasms. Jim gave you a cheeky grin. His fingers tucked a piece of hair behind your ear tenderly before his warm voice whispered softly against your lips.

“So tell me…” He looked deeply into your eyes. “How did it feel to finally be with a real man?”

Btw, by the request of a friend, I also made a c.ai version of this fic for you to choose your own story.

[neo-metal]

metonic brainworms

[royalarchivist]

Fit: It was a lot of fun being at the event on Friday, it was a lot of fun. You know, I'm very grateful for the Arkanis team for having Bad and I.

Fit: Although admittedly, it was kind of an annoying weekend in some ways, because I guess – I heard about this – apparently when Bad and I were doing our improv bit or whatever, a couple people on Twitter thought that it was like a jab at Quackity, which is insane to me because it was like... not related to his situation at all. And like, normally you ignore that kind of stuff, but it literally got so bad that I had to talk to Quackity this weekend, you know, and we– I actually just had to let him know, "Hey, just so you're aware, a couple people on Twitter think that this is a jab at you, but it's not" and he fully understood and whatever, but like... You know, I'm saying like, he's getting ready for his big announcement, like, that's like the last thing he should have to worry about, you know? Typical Twitter moment, they just take something out of context and they just run with it. But you know, it's all good, I'm very excited for his new project.

Fit: You know, Quackity is one of those people– he's one of the– He is one of the kindest, most genuine streamers that like, I've ever been in contact with. Like, after the Florida hurricanes where we had back to back hurricanes, he was one of the first creators to actually reach out to make sure that I was ok. Like, he's just one of the most kind, genuine people. So for people to think that like, we would be feuding is insane! You know what I'm saying? Like, people, they make up these conflicts in their heads, it's crazy.

Fit: So that was annoying, but yeah, it's all good. We all love each other. There's no bad blood or anything like that.

[slut4bill]

All For You - B.Kaulitz

𝜗𝜚 - bill kaulitz x fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 - horror

𝜗𝜚 - mentions of blood, murder, just gore in general

ღ - a/n: decided to try my hand at writing horror while I work on some smut fics...

"Baby" he cooed in your ear, putting on his sweet innocent facade as if he hadn't just brutally murdered your best friend right in front of your eyes. You felt sick to your stomach looking at the bloody scene in front of you, almost gagging when you saw what looked like a chunk of brain next to what used to be a head.

It wasn't always like this of course. When you first met him, he seemed like a sweet, decent guy, much different from the losers you were used to going out with, those men always used to getting praise for doing the bare minimum. Bill, however, would buy you gifts and shower you with love and affection, and in your eyes, he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Perfect even. But of course, like all good things it had to come to an end, this whole 'perfect boyfriend' act becoming too good to be true. It started slow, as you noticed the way he started to become more protective of you but that was only natural right? He was just being a good boyfriend and it seemed like a sweet gesture. But then he started to get weirdly clingy, never leaving your side, always begging to spend every moment of every day with you which was a bit odd but hey you can't exactly say you hated the attention. Next came the small bit of obsession, it seemed normal at first just a few small mumbled I need yous or a random moment where he accidently blurted out something you swore you had never told him. And then came the killings, almost like a real life scream movie except the murders were never random, always someone you knew, someone you had just talked to the day before you saw their disfigured bloody body on the news. You were terrified when your boyfriend, the guy you loved so much, the guy who you swore would never hurt a fly, came crawling in through your bedroom window covered in blood with a toothy grin on his face as if he had just accomplished the greatest thing in the world. You were frozen in fear, eyes wide open as you tried to wrap your head around the sight in front of you. He trapped you in a warm embrace kissing all over your face assuring you that everything was fine and trying to convince you that all the people he killed had a reason to die.

Bullshit

You were shaken out of your thoughts by the feeling of lips pressing against your neck and the warmth of a pair of arms tightening around your waist. The only sounds filling the atmosphere were the soft clicks of Bills lips leaving your neck with a small 'tch' sound, not seeming to be stopping anytime soon. "Did you like my surprise?" he asked in a hushed tone breaking the silence. What? "What?" I ask more rhetorically than literally as tears brimmed at my waterline threatening to spill at any second. "Did you like my surprise?" he repeats again emphasizing every word this time. "I did this all for you baby, for us" he whispered in my ear as he continued trailing soft kisses down my neck. "Did I like it?" I laughed, "Did I fucking like it are you fucking insane you psycho piece of shit??" I yell as my voice shakes in anger, fear and shock. He looked down at me with a small hint of hurt in his eyes. "Don't yell love I was doing something nice for us" he frowns as if you getting upset about this was unnatural. you look up at him in disbelief. How is he failing to see what exactly is wrong about this? "How is this nice Bill you killed my best friend what is wrong with you-" you cut yourself off as your voice began to crack signaling that you were about to start crying. You sob looking at the lifeless being on the bathroom floor, the tiles already smeared with blood. "My best friend- h-how could you Bill" you asked in a hoarse voice, body still shaking from the breakdown you were having. He just hugged you tighter against his chest leaning down to kiss your cheek. We both stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up again. "She was trying to take you away from me I couldn't have that love you have to understand" he explained trying to reason with you. You were speechless and scared. More scared of your own feelings than the gruesome scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes. Scared because despite everything he's done, what he just did, a part of you still loved him. And you couldn't bring yourself to push him away. "Let's go get you cleaned up, yeah baby?" he says referring to the small splatters of blood on your face and clothes sure to leave a stain later. You just nod still in shock and not able to properly speak as your mind tries to process everything that just happened. "Arms up" he hums as he lifts your shirt up over your head tossing it on the bloodied ground somewhere. He unclips your bra tossing it near the shirt and bends down to do the same with your jeans and underwear. He helps you step over the body and turns on the shower waiting for the water to heat up. Once it started to get warm, he carefully helped you in the bathtub squirting some shampoo in his hand and lathering it on your head, making sure not to get any in your eyes.

"I love you baby, I always will" he hummed in an affectionate voice, looking at you with nothing but genuine love in his eyes.

and you loved him too.

You were trapped in a living nightmare.

[amyriadfthings]

hey op, hope it´s ok if i-

#I can't believe this is done. and you won't believe how long it took me to make it. insane... because it's just a scene#I didn't even use different fonts. or a cool template. or transitions... it was a single scene... but look... I made captures for 10 gifs#and things kept happening and I kept finding little gestures and beautiful things and I just couldn't keep them out the gifs#I mean look at Harry and that slow realization. please look at the glow around his shoulders at the beginning#and how ethereal and out of this world he already is AND THEN when Adam says 'I found you' he becomes more... real and present!#and those eyes and the intensity of that 'you're here' and their eyes and faces and smiles and how Harry's desperate but Adam calms him dow#and his voice when he asks 'how come no one found me?' the realization that people didn't care to check on him. it screamed to my soul#I haven't stopped thinking about that scene since the moment I first watched it#honestly... I wish I could live in this scene forever#now this is a super long post and I know it won't get many notes and it was surely made before... but I needed to make this for myself...#so here it is :) I'm tired but I love it#GOD the way Harry goes full baby when Adam caresses his cheek and he SMILES LIKE THAT! AHHHHHHH!#*runs down the hill screaming*

ALL OF US STRANGERS (2023) dir. ANDREW HAIGH

[icarusredwings]

"Shh... shh It's alright.."

Logan's eyes flutter open, hearing the raspy voice. Like he's been crying. Sitting up, he watches as his husband was once again in the corner of their bedroom, rocking and patting his babydoll, sitting next to her wooden crib that Shop Class had made for him, Fordge's great niece Cherri to be exact. Sweet kid. Wade ruffled up her ears every morning, despite her groans to stop, she would giggle and become upset if he didn't.

God those kids loved him.. but it seemed recently this specifc kid, Their plastic kid at that- had his attention most evening's.

"Wade..?" He whispers, but he's ignored. This isn't uncommon. Usually, during these episodes, it was best to let him go. To let him rock the baby until she 'stopped crying' or until HE stopped crying.

"Yeah, I know sometimes things might not always make sense to you right now. But hey, what daddy always tell you? Straighten up, little soldier. Stiffen up that upper lip. What’chu crying about? You got me.. daddy won't let no one hurt'cha... Promise" He whispers, giving their daughter a small kiss on the scalp, holding her so gently and yet so firm, afraid of hurting her by squeezing and or dropping her.

The way he sat cross legged and stared at their daughter, Logan could almost see his cogs turning.

Was that so hard for his own father to do? To protect him? Not hurt him? Love him?

"Shhh... shhh..Now, hush little baby don’t you cry everythings gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up little lady I told ya, Daddy’s here to hold ya through the night."

Was that... Eminem??...

Of course Wade of all people would since Eminem to his infant...

He whispers, rocking back and forth with closed eyes, holding her tightly, patting her as he went on.

"I know mommy’s not here right now, and we don’t know why. We feel how we feel inside. I might seem a little crazy, pretty baby, but I promise mama's gon' be alright."

Look- Logan was old. But he wasn't that old. Wade had changed the lyrics. Just slightly enough to still match beat, but it meant so much, telling the baby doll that her 'feelings' mattered even if irrational, telling her that he was insane, and promising her everything was going to be alright.

You may not think so, but this was progress. Moments like these were looked down upon, and while people might not realize it, this sort of play IS a form of regression and was just as good as a coping mechanism as him playing with horses was, the only difference was he was playing with dolls. By comforting Evelyn, he was sootheing himself. It was much easier to tell someone else it was okay rather then yourself.

He was tricking his brain. Subconsciously forcing himself to believe things would be fine. The only part that he wasn't sure of was 'Evelyn's' need for a mommy. Was this Wade missing his own mother.. or was this missing Vanessa and what they could have had? V was still around. They saw her once a week at the very least. Still went on dates, Still hung out afterward (if you get my drift) The only thing really different was that the 'baby machine' was no longer in business. Having shut down a while ago. She had (at least- if Logan understood correctly) Had a partial hysterectomy so her painful periods would stop.

"And daddy’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. Imma give you the world, I’ma buy a diamond ring for you. Imma sing for you, I’ll do anything for you to see you smile." He sang quietly, giving her sweet hugs, soft kisses, and the patting became lighter, more off beat and calm.

It wasn't that Wade would be a "Bad" father but he could barley take care of himself. Anyone who knew him- actually knew him- knows Wade wouldn't ever be able to hurt a baby. Not on purpose anyway, but with how his mind was, it wasn't a good idea. Kids? Sure. A baby? No.. And it's not like Ness didn't talk to him about it beforehand, letting him know that she was keeping her eggs but they would never be able to have a baby unless someone agreed to be a surrogate. He wasn't mad. No, not at all. He understood perfectly.... a bit too perfectly.

Logan, being the person who he is though, could smell him crying in the shower later that day. He couldn't imagine being in those shoes.. to be told the person you were planning on having little kits with- Er I mean kids with- wouldn't be able to carry them anymore.

"And if that mockingbird don’t sing and the ring don’t shine, Imma break that birdies neck! I’ll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya and make him eat every karat, dont fuck with dad.. hah....you like that? Yeah?... Daddy's little psycho.." He smiles, seeming to have finally 'calmed' Evelyn enough for her to stop 'crying'.

Deep down, Evelyn scared him. Wade behaved as if she truly was telling him things at times. At first, he thought it was just his own voices playing tricks on him. And then he thought it was lingering elements of a bad dream, a random little girls voice running through a nightmare.

Wade went into detail about each dream, talking about it for days afterward, describing how his darling girl was reaching out for him, calling for her daddy with open arms. From the sounds of it, she wasn't an infant, though. Fluxuating ages but the ones where she begs him not to leave well... leaves him like this. In shambles, crying on the floor at 2 in the morning.

"You comin' to bed, papa bear?" He teases.

Glancing up, Wade sighs, the kind of relief in which he could finally lay Eve back in her cradle, giving it a good push before coming to crawl under the sheets. "Comin' mama bear."

[delilahsturniolo]

singer!reader “arresting” photographer!matt during her concert

read more of this au here!

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)

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your affectionate smile beamed through the stadium as you finished performing one of your many songs on the setlist for your tour. the crowd was absolutely electric, making your heart melt.

you laughed into the microphone, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. matt stood in front of the barricade, his camera clicking as he captured the perfect photo of you mid laugh. you were so beautiful to him, as obsessive as he seemed he couldn’t control it. you were just a few feet away from him too, which drove him insane.

you began to speak into the microphone. “hey, ladies..can you come here? i think i see my future husband in the crowd.” your backup dancers came beside you, one of them holding pink fuzzy handcuffs.

matt was taken aback, you were looking at him when you said that. the both of you locked eyes for a few moments before you spoke up again.

“you see him right there ladies? black shirt…camera..” matt felt his heart flutter, looking you up and down. you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

the lights on the stage flashed red and blue as a siren sound played throughout the stadium. the camera panned to matt, showing how flustered he looked.

you giggled into the microphone. “excuse me…you’re under arrest for being too hot.” you teased, crouching on stage and making direct eye contact with matt, who winked at you.

“what’s your name?” you asked him.

“matthew!” he shouted so you could hear. you nodded, smiling.

“matthew..” you repeated in a rather flirty tone, getting up and standing next to your backup dancers.

“i’m thinking so many thoughts about you that i probably shouldn’t be thinking, you’re just so attractive and—oh my gosh my clothes are falling off!” you stepped out of your skirt, your backup dancer helping you. now, you were in your blue shimmery bodysuit, that had a kiss mark just below your boob.

in your peripheral vision, you saw the flash of matt’s camera go off as he took a photo of you stepping out of your “fallen off” skirt.

the instrumental to your song began, you took the fuzzy pink handcuffs and crouched down by where matt was.

“why don’t you take these for me mr. photographer?” you handed the cuffs to the security guard who gave them to matt.

matt was a giddy and blushing mess as he accepted the handcuffs, making eye contact with you again.

“this song’s for you, matthew.” you winked at him, watching as he swung around the cuffs in one hand and held his camera firmly in the other. you began to perform your song.

matt watched you, as fans in the crowd went absolutely ballistic over the short interaction between you two.

matt watched you dance on stage, the camera panning to him every now and then, gauging his reactions.

his camera clicked as he took a few more photos of you, for your social media… and maybe he’d keep a few for himself?

© delilahsturniolo

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[personapeters]

bf!kyle spencer headcanons (pre-death) part one ⟡ ݁₊ . ⊹ ࣪ ˖

series links: part one • part two

rating: sfw — contents: kyle just being so boyfriend :p

— bf!kyle who… was sickeningly nervous the first time he said he loves you — but since then, he says it every chance he gets - the end of each phone call, through random texts throughout the day, as you’re falling asleep, in your ear when out in public; whenever.

— bf!kyle who… teases you often - he has no issue with physically showing his affection, but when it’s verbally, he struggles a bit more when it was anything other than an ‘i love you’; poking fun at small things here and there but you know exactly what he means by it and he loves how you can dish it right back at him.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too keen on public displays of affection but loves physical touch more than anything, so he works around it — sliding a hand into your back pocket while you wait in a line, hooking his fingers into the loops of your jeans, tracing shapes onto your thigh when you’re out to eat with friends.

— bf!kyle who… drives your drunk friends home whenever you need him to, always watching to make sure they get inside safely before driving off — no matter the hour, he was there when they needed him.

— bf!kyle who… enthusiastically introduces himself to your roommate, holding out a gentle hand with a tight, close-lipped smile: “hey, nice t’meet you, ‘m kyle.”

— bf!kyle who… texts you random pictures throughout the day of ‘cool’ things he’s come across — like a duck shaped cloud that does not resemble a duck in the slightest, or a heart shaped potato chip that surprisingly does look almost like a heart.

— bf!kyle who… loves rollercoasters and is constantly begging you to ride them with him — he loves how tightly you grip his hand while bracing yourself for a drop, even if it leaves a mark.

— bf!kyle who… wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head atop of yours while waiting in line for said rollercoasters, lightly swaying the both of you and murmuring in your ear whatever nonsense he can think of to make you laugh.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too involved with social media, sometimes posting a random photo here and there, but never misses an opportunity to comment on your pictures: “hot” - “ur actually insane” - “i took that :p” - “ive seen it u can take it down now lol”

— bf!kyle who… is extremely smart, regardless of the stereotype, helping you study any and every subject — if it’s something he doesn’t know, he’d attempt to teach himself just so he could help.

— bf!kyle who… does anything he thinks will make you smile, just for the sake of seeing it — poking at your sides, pulling faces at inappropriate times that he knows could get you both in trouble, reciting cliche jokes with a playful smirk to make you cringe.

— bf!kyle who… asks you to recite your notes aloud to him whenever you’re studying, laying his head on your lap as you do - he says it helps to retain the information, which is true, but he mostly just enjoys hearing your voice and watching you speak.

— bf!kyle who… loves taking you to book stores, offering to buy each and every book you show an ounce of interest to: “y’like that one? grab it… y’don’t have to need it to want it, babe… okay, fine, then i want it… yeah, maybe i’ll let you borrow it,” with a wink.

— bf!kyle who… loves when you sleepover and wear his university branded t-shirts, loving how the ends rest just above your mid-thigh: “think you should keep this… looks way better on you.”

— bf!kyle who… supports every extracurricular activity you do with the upmost effort — like showing up to each and every soccer game, sitting at the very bottom of the bleachers to see you the closest, cheering along with the other friends and families in the stadium, yelling, “that’s my girl!” with an abundance of pride, wanting everyone to know exactly who he was there for.

— bf!kyle who… is a golden retriever puppy in human form - his big, dark eyes and soft, blonde hair representing the physical aesthetic, while his curious, loyal, unconditionally loving, energetic spirit embodies the overall nature.

— bf!kyle who… doesn’t like to let you drive, wanting to be the one to escort you wherever you wanted to go. whenever you’d protest, he’d say you’re music taste was way better than his and he needed you to be the designated dj for every single car ride.

— bf!kyle who… loves to leave small kisses all over your body whenever he could — specifically on the curve of your jaw, the tip of your nose and the back of your hands; always letting his mouth linger for a few seconds before breaking the connection.

— bf!kyle who… tries his hardest to open each and every door for you - blaming it on “southern hospitality” when in reality, he just wants you to feel as special as he knows you are.

— bf!kyle who… occasionally brings you around his fraternity brothers when he has to, but only briefly and at a distance - he’d keep you tucked safely behind him, keeping his fingers loosely laced with yours as he greets the men and dismisses the two of you in the same breath.

— bf!kyle who… loves kneading softly at your thighs as he falls asleep — it starting as a way to comfort you but now, he often finds himself absentmindedly tracing and gripping at the plush flesh like a kitten as he slowly drifts to sleep.

— bf!kyle who… plays video games every once in a while, forcing you to play with him and on days where you would simply watch - he’d request you sit on his lap because from there, ‘the view’s much better.’ — and admittedly, it was.

— bf!kyle who… would try and surprise you with home baked goods for the sake of creating something for you all on his own. he’d hand you the container full of sweets with a bright, cheesy grin on his face which only further prompted you to ignore the jarring crunch of eggshells in your mouth upon tasting them.

— bf!kyle who… would always try to keep a hair tie on his wrist or in his pocket, just incase you or one of your friends needed it.

— bf!kyle who… would absolutely melt whenever you ran your nails through his hair, lightly swirling the tufts between your fingers and smoothing them downwards behind his ears — nothing in the world could soothe him faster.

— bf!kyle who… never lets you walk back to your dorm alone — it was never up for discussion, no matter the circumstance.

— bf!kyle who… blushes super easily, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears often turning pink whenever you’d casually compliment him or even send him a smile from across the room.

— bf!kyle who… warns you it will be cold but, telling you to bring a jacket of your own but secretly loves when you don’t; just so he can give you his — loving how the sleeves stop way past your fingers and how the hood slips over your eyes again and again, no matter how many times you push it back up.

— bf!kyle who… doesn’t get jealous often — obviously, he doesn’t love when he catches guys ogling at you, but it doesn’t really affect him unless he feels like you’re being a little too nice in return - in reality, it’s a very average amount of platonic common courtesy, no fault of your own - was still way too much, in his opinion.

— bf!kyle who… always considers your friends with each decision he makes involving them — he never stays too late in your dorm, nor does he ever try to convince you to bail on plans with them in order to spend more time with him; although, he really wants to.

— bf!kyle who… makes a huge deal out of things you beg him not to - having little gifts and flowers awaiting you on his bed whenever you ace a big exam or win a tournament or competition of any assortment; although, he would always have them for you regardless, even if you ‘failed’.

— bf!kyle who… takes care of you when you’re sick as if your life depends on it — constantly pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to make sure you aren’t too hot, offering to make you even more tea that inevitably collects among the half-drunken cups on your nightstand, and checking the time to determine if it’s been long enough since your last doseae of medicine before he administers you more — he’d jokingly say, “euughh” whenever you’d blow your nose while simultaneously throwing the dirty tissues away for you with a small smile.

— bf!kyle who… keeps a polaroid of the two of you from one of your earlier dates in his wallet — his fraternity brothers would see it and endlessly tease and chastise him for it, but the soft grin on his face from the memory would never dare to falter.

— bf!kyle who… never wants you to pay for anything, especially when you’re with him — he doesn’t exactly fit in the ‘broke college student’ stereotype due to his scholarships floating him through, so he wanted to use his money for better things - like you.

— bf!kyle who… uses ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ far more than the average person — “can you stay at mine tonight, please?” - “no, thanks, baby but thank you.” - “please be careful, please?”

— bf!kyle who… never speaks up when his order is wrong, and begs you not to either, not wanting to be a bother to anyone. yet, you still do, as politely and kind as possible - solving the problem.

— bf!kyle who… secretly loves gossip - letting you spill every detail you have in full depth, listening attentively with furrowed eyebrows and lips parted when the drama get’s particularly juicy.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too fond of horror movies, but forcibly watches them with arms wrapped tight around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck, under the guise of ‘protecting’ you.

— bf!kyle who… never forgets anything you tell him about yourself, no matter what it is — your shoe size, siblings names, childhood pets - your favorite color, flower, movie, tv show, artist, song, food, dessert, drink, candy, ice cream, scent, fabric, sport; the list really could go on and on. it always surprises you when he mentions something you completely forgot ever telling him, and he only smiles with a small shrug, happy with himself for it.

— bf!kyle who… buys you a shirt matching his own whenever you mention liking it — sure, he could give you his, and he often does, but he also really loves surprising you with a smaller version of his own attire, grinning like an idiot whenever you put it on.

— bf!kyle who… listens to your music playlists whenever he’s in class, wanting to like what you like and understand you just that much better.

— bf!kyle who… never does anything physically without asking first, no matter the degree: “this okay?” - “can i…?” - “tell me if you want me to stop, please.”

— bf!kyle who… will stop you in the middle of walking to tie your shoe, pulling your foot onto his crouched knee to entangle the laces before lightly patting your ankle when he’s done, smiling fondly up at you.

— bf!kyle who… texts you menial updates throughout the day, just for the sake of starting a conversation: “just saw a bird steal a nut or somthin from a squirrel… lifes crazy :0”

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