#I wavered for weeks about texting them

[plaidbooks]

Turns out the crisis line is pretty good

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[lymtw]

Self Satisfaction

When Toji finds out that you get yourself off when he's not around, he's blatantly offended. You recognize jealousy on Toji's face when you see it. It's not always pretty, but sometimes you think it's the most beautiful way you'll ever see him. He looks at you with those eyes. Those merciless, yet disarming, green eyes. You've told him before that they are one of your greatest weaknesses, and since then he uses them to his advantage at any given chance.

Shiu called Toji to notify him about a last minute mission, and though you begged him to stay, he reminded you of how this could be the one that brings both of you out of the struggle to make ends meet.

You were blinded by the amount of time you had spent with him. A week straight, no interruptions until Shiu called. It was one of the best weeks of your life, and that only further devastated you when you couldn't talk him out of leaving.

To make things worse, he wasn't able to reconcile with you and comfort you before he left. Shiu was rushing him, but all he could think about was how you turned your back to him, not even wanting to look at him before he left.

He answered Shiu's phone call for three seconds, an enraged, "I'm going. Jesus, fuck," before hitting the end call button. He stands at your shared bedroom doorway for a few seconds more seconds, still only getting a look at the back of your head. "I'll be back, princess. Gonna make it up to you, so wait up for me."

—

The mission wasn't difficult at all. It was so easy that he even attempted to contact you while he scouted the close quartered area. You didn't pick up a single one of the six calls he made, letting them all go straight to voicemail each time. It was irritating. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to listen to him, he wanted to tell you that he was rushing this mission so that he could sprint home to you.

Once he got his dirty work done, he tried your phone again, and again, but you were still letting his calls go to voicemail. So, he decided to text you.

Babe, answer.

I know you're upset, but i'm on my way home now

Baby, please

You read his messages, sighing before throwing your phone across the room. He never says no to Shiu when it's about a job. You've accepted this before, but after spending a whole uninterrupted week with Toji, feeling like things would remain that way for longer than they did, it was hard to remember that life was gonna merge back in again at some point. Your vacation hours would run out and you would have to go back to work, and Toji would be hired to hunt someone down again. It was just disheartening to find out that it would happen so soon, and that Toji would jump back into routine so quickly.

You see one of his shirts at the end of the bed and reach for it. It was flipped inside out and balled up, so you know it was worn by him. Just holding it in your lap, you can smell Toji's scent. You bring it up to your nose, and your heart begins to race. Toji wore this. He's not there with you, so that's the closest you'll get to him until he's physically in front of you again.

You bury your face into the rolled up shirt, inhaling deeply. The scent really works at pushing you to forgive him for leaving. His scent was debiliating. It brought vulnerability to a moment where it was just you on the bed you share with your man. You were missing him and wishing he weren't so obligated to his work. It stirred up feelings that couldn't be contained.

In this whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't reject the feeling that blazed in you the most. Your need for him. Your desire to have him all over you, with those hands that don't quit when you waver between feeling like you've had enough, and wanting more of him than ever.

You crawl back to the top of the bed, Toji's shirt dragging on the sheets beneath your palms. Your shorts are peeled off and tossed to the floor. You grab his pillow from his side of the bed, slipping it between your thighs before laying down flat on your stomach. You spread his shirt out on your pillow, and lay your face on it, allowing your mind to fill with thoughts of Toji. You used this internal shrine to fuel the languid roll of your hips against the pillow.

Toji called one more time. He was two minutes away from the house. Your phone is on silent mode, still on the floor on the other side of the room. Besides, you were too distracted to see your phone screen light up, anyway.

"We're literally here, already. Quit stressing," Shiu says when he sees Toji scoff after putting his phone down, a deadpan expression on the former's face. The second the van stops, Toji hops out, and without another word to Shiu, he slams the door shut.

The door barges open and slams shut behind him. Had you not been in your blissful haze, you would have been concerned. Toji's footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as he looks around in search of you. You're not on the couch, you aren't in the kitchen. Where the hell could you be?

"Ma," Toji calls, walking through the hallway. He peeks into the bathroom, not digging further because the light was off. He hears heavy breathing nearby, so he keeps going down the hall. It's one of two doors. Luckily, he chooses the right one.

He slowly creaks the door open, his shoulders dropping immediately at the sight on the bed. He sighs in awe, leaning against the doorframe.

Your hips rolled a little faster against the pillow now, your arms curled tightly around the pillow for your head. Your face remained buried in Toji's shirt, your moans muffled as you gnawed on the black fabric. You were so close to unraveling, you could feel it building up in your lower abdomen.

Toji really liked the little arch you made everytime you pulled back and then dragged forward to get the longest amount of friction between your legs. He could see your body trembling, and your moans were getting louder.

"Oh, Toji..."

The monster in his pants came to life, prominently bulging through his pants.

"F-Fuck... fuck me, please," you gasped, keeping your rhythm but grinding harder against the pillow. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." you moaned, higher in pitch as you reached the brink of orgasm. You dragged your panty clad cunt across the pillow one more time before completely falling apart on it. Cries of pleasure shamelessly filled the room as you continued to shakily rut against the pillow through your peak. You whimpered, your abdomen quivering with your shuddered breaths as you kept grinding.

Toji's boxers were drenched with precum, just from watching you go wild on a pillow. You were thinking of him while he was gone. You wanted him. You called his name while you got yourself off to his scent on a shirt he wore yesterday, and now you're just there. A breathless, panting, needy, beautiful mess.

Toji straightens his posture and enters the room. He sees your phone on the floor and picks it up, the screen lighting to show his most recent missed calls. His footsteps pull you out of your climactic trance, a starry-eyed look on your face when you see him approach the bed.

"Couldn't pick up the phone even once?" He presents your phone to you. "Too busy fucking yourself on my pillow?"

"Toji..." you start, waved off immediately by his hand.

"Heard my name in there a couple times, princess. Thought you were upset with me." His eyes rake down your body, focusing on the way your thighs clamp around his pillow. He sees the wet spot on the front of your panties, and for some reason feels envy begin to bubble up in his stomach. His hand reaches for the elastic band of your underwear, simply feeling the material that hugs your hips.

"I was," you mumble.

"Uh-huh. So, instead of waiting for me like the perfect angel I thought you were, you made yourself cum on a pillow?" He scoffs. "Don't know about you, but that's borderline selfish to me." He notices the involuntary pout on your face, your guilty eyes trying to hold eye contact while he scolds you. "I make you cum. I fuck you until your damn claws are digging into my back. Tell me, doll, and be brutally honest, for me. How is it not enough?"

"I missed you..." you say, a last resort. All you can do is back yourself up now.

He laughs in disbelief. You really were ruled by your own desire. "Try again, doll."

"I needed you, Toji, and the closest thing to your presence was your pillow and a stupid shirt you wore yesterday. We have a dirty clothes hamper, you know?" You point at the tall basket in the corner of the room. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you had thrown it in there."

"Show me," he says, a twisted grin on his face.

"What are you talking about? Show you what?"

He pulls the pillow through your thighs so that you're centered on it again. "Show me how much you missed me." He sits in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. "Show me how this flimsy replacement for me, made you lose your shit."

You sit there, flustered by his silence as he watches you, waiting patiently for his hands to get gentle friction from your skin.

"Oh, you need some help winding up? I was so sure you were good at this, seeing as though you made yourself spill, but, guess not." He looks down at the front of your panties. The wet patch was growing with no movement from you at all. This made his ego sky rocket, but also reminded him of how unpredictable you could be. "I'm not gonna hold your hand the whole time, baby. You're supposed to be putting on a show for me."

His grip on your hips tightens and he starts assisting you with rolling your hips against the pillow. He watches your face, a bright shade flourishing on your cheeks when you make eye contact with him. It was like he had a spotlight on you, and he was expecting you to perform well for him under the harsh light.

You let out a shaky breath, your palms settling on his thighs. Your head hung low, hiding the bashful look of bliss on your face. It was a gesture that Toji did not approve of.

"Let me look at you," he says, still maneuvering your hips in a constant rhythm. You lift you head but turn away from him. "Keep those eyes on me." He manually turns your head, one hand releasing your hip in favor of forcing you to look at him. His hand returns to its spot when he has your glossy eyes on his. "I'm right in front of you. There's nothing over there that demands your attention, so focus."

"Toji," you whine, humiliation flooding your body.

"Gonna let go in a few seconds, so you better fall into some sort of rhythm, doll."

You try to pretend like he's not there, but it's hard to do so when he's staring straight into your soul. Watching every expression you make, watching every tremble of your lips, every swipe of your tongue. You feel total vulnerability.

His hands are off and you stutter for a second before picking up again.

"There you go," Toji mutters. You took control, and ground yourself harder against the pillow.

"Toji, touch me, please." You pull your shirt off, baring more of yourself to Toji. His lidded eyes take in the newly exposed skin. He can see your breasts rising and falling now as you breathe, and he can't deny how badly he wants to hold them. He gives in, his hands going to your back to unclip your bra. His hands immediately grope your boobs, testing the malleability like he always does. They're just so perfect.

"Aren't you a sight... You just have to be so fuckin' pretty all the time, don't you?" He rolls your nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shudder at the contact. "Fuck, it's hard to stay mad when you look like that."

You feel that familiar ache begin to form again, when the roll of your hips starts leaving a lingering pleasure behind.

"You're about to cum again, aren't you?" Toji asks, knowing the answer. His eyes are narrowed on you, his dick twitching even if his blood is boiling at the thought of you enjoying this so much. You're doing those little arches again where you pull back and your stomach is quivering every time you drag yourself back forward.

"Mhm..." your nails dig into Toji's thighs, using them as leverage to facilitate your movement even more. "Toji, can I cum?" you ask, your submissive tendencies coming out right on time, as usual. You like handing over control to Toji, even if it means you don't get to cum when you're seconds away from being an absolute mess. "Toji, can I, please?"

How can he deny you when you've complied with what he asked you to do? How can he turn you down when you're so driven with pleasure that you look like you're about to cry just from slowing down for a couple seconds, awaiting his response?

"Only if you do it on my hand." His hands still your hips, holding you down firmly to stop your movement completely.

"What?" Your cunt aches from holding back. It's pulsing, craving the return of stimulation.

Toji's hand slides into the front of your underwear, cupping your slickened folds. "Do it on my hand," he repeats.

"O-Okay," you comply, once again. You start rocking against his hand, the roughness of his skin adding more friction to your sensitive core. You were bound to snap any second now.

"God, you're so wet, ma. All for me?"

"Mhm... all for you, Toji," you whimper. "Gonna..." you gasp. "Oh, fuck-"

Toji devours your expression and the shaky pressure of your silkiness against his hand. His pupils are enormous, ridding him of almost all the green in his eyes. He loves the sounds you make, he loves that you adjusted to the spotlight he put on you and gave him the best show, but most of all, he loves that this was all the product of you just missing him.

You're left breathing shakily, your head hung low, and your eyes lidded with exhaustion.

"Did it feel the same?" Toji's voice brings you back. His hand retracts from your underwear, and he gets a good look at what you left behind on him, wiping it off on his shirt. It'll be removed soon enough, anyway.

"Not at all." You giggle. You look at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "You're irreplaceable, baby. Inanimate objects don't do it for me like you do."

He chuckles. Your voice is adorable, all quiet yet still able to communicate your reassuring words.

"I need a nap," you mumble, retrieving your shirt from the end of the bed.

"Wanna shower with me, instead?"

Your attention directs towards him like a homing bolt of lightning. He gives you a smug grin, and you know exactly what he's thinking.

"Spare me some company and one of those massages you're so good at giving, yeah?"

You give him a deadpan expression, almost refuting him until he hit you at another point where he knew you were weak.

"Please, mama?"

[moonlightwritingf1]

Under the Stars | LN4

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ After months of pinning after Y/N, Lando finally brings her to Monaco. He takes her on a yacht, where things escalate.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.2k

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

"You’re scared of me," Lando said, his voice low, a teasing smirk curling the corner of his lips as he leaned against the yacht’s railing. The moonlight shimmered on the water below, casting a soft glow on his face. His eyes never left hers.

"Scared? Of you?" Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from the weight of his gaze. But she was lying. Her heart raced, her cheeks burning despite the cool Mediterranean breeze. She turned away, pretending to admire the horizon. "That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne—something musky and intoxicating. "Because every time I get close, you run. Every time I say something real, you deflect. You’re scared, Y/n. Scared of what this could be."

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tighter. He wasn’t wrong. But admitting that felt like surrendering a part of herself she wasn’t ready to give up. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Then tell me I’m wrong." His tone softened, but there was an edge to it—a challenge. He moved closer still, until his chest was almost brushing against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Tell me you don’t feel it too."

---

It had started weeks ago, when Lando had casually mentioned his Monaco apartment during one of their late-night conversations. They’d been texting back and forth for months, ever since they met through a mutual friend at a gathering in London. Lando had been relentless in his pursuit of her, always finding excuses to see her, to talk to her, to make her laugh. And Y/n, despite her best efforts, found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain.

"I’ve got this place in Monaco," he’d said one night, his voice smooth and inviting over the phone. "You should come visit. I’ll show you around."

She’d laughed it off, thinking it was just another one of his jokes. But then he’d sent her a first-class ticket to Nice, along with a message that read: No excuses. Be there.

And now here she was, standing on a luxury yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean, with Lando Norris himself standing far too close for comfort.

---

The tension between them was palpable, crackling in the air like electricity. Y/n turned to face him, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why do you keep pushing?"

"Because I see you," he said simply, his eyes boring into hers. "I see all the walls you’ve built, all the armor you wear. And I want to break through it. I want you, Y/n. The real you."

Her breath hitched. God, why did he have to say things like that? It felt like he was peeling back layers of her soul, exposing parts of herself she didn’t even recognize. "You think you can just waltz in and fix me?" she shot back, though her voice wavered. "I’m not some broken thing that needs saving, Lando."

"I don’t want to fix you," he said firmly, taking another step closer until there was barely any space left between them. "I just want you. All of you. The good, the bad, the messy. Everything."

Her resolve wavered. She wanted to believe him, to let herself fall into the safety of his words. But fear held her back—fear of being vulnerable, of getting hurt. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

"Maybe not," he admitted, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. "But I’m willing to find out. Are you?"

She stared up at him, her mind racing. This was Lando Norris, the man who had somehow managed to weave his way into her life and under her skin. The man who looked at her like she was the only person in the room. The man who made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

Before she could stop herself, she reached up and kissed him.

It was tentative at first, a soft brush of her lips against his. But then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. Heat surged through her, igniting every nerve in her body. His lips were warm, insistent, and she melted into him, losing herself in the sensation.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. "Took you long enough," he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Shut up," she shot back, but there was no bite to her words. She could feel the smile spreading across her face, even as her heart continued to race.

Lando chuckled, his hands still resting on her hips. "Admit it," he teased. "You’ve been wanting to do that for a while."

"Maybe," she conceded, her cheeks flushing. "But don’t let it go to your head."

"Too late," he said, his grin widening. "Now let’s see if I can’t convince you to stay a little longer."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her feigned annoyance doing nothing to hide the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. "Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Lando’s smile turned wicked, his hands sliding up her sides. "Let’s just say I have a few ideas..."

Lando’s hands lingered on her hips, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist as he leaned in closer. The moonlight bathed them both, casting a soft glow over the yacht’s deck. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and teasing. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to protest, to push him away and retreat into the safety of her own walls, but something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the world—made it impossible. “Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

He didn’t wait for her to say more. His lips found hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her. Y/n’s hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, her body pressing against his as the kiss deepened. Lando’s tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them open, and she let him in with a soft moan.

His hands moved to the zipper of her dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. Lando stepped back, his eyes raking over her body with an intensity that made her skin burn. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Lando caught her wrists, pinning them gently at her sides. “Don’t,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me look at you.”

She swallowed hard, her body trembling under his scrutiny. Lando’s hands slid up her arms, his touch feather-light, before cupping her face. He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, his tongue tangling with hers as he backed her toward one of the plush couches on the deck. When the back of her knees hit the edge, he pushed her down gently until she was lying beneath him.

Lando’s lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and across her collarbone. His hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her flesh like he was committing it to memory. He nipped at her shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Y/n, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as he kissed his way lower. His lips closed around one nipple, sucking and teasing it until it hardened under his mouth. Y/n arched into him, a moan escaping her lips as he switched his attention to the other breast, lavishing it with the same treatment.

“Lando…” she whimpered, her voice heavy with need.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. “I want to taste all of you,” he said, his voice rough. Without waiting for a response, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them off, leaving her completely exposed.

The cool night air brushed against her heated skin, making her shudder. Lando knelt between her legs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to press a kiss to her inner thigh. Y/n’s breath hitched, her hips lifting involuntarily as his lips moved higher, nibbling and kissing their way toward her core.

When his tongue finally touched her, she cried out, her hands gripping the cushions beneath her. Lando groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her sensitive flesh. He licked her slowly, savoring her taste as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever encountered.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his voice muffled against her. “You taste incredible.”

She couldn’t respond, her mind too consumed by the sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit. His hands held her hips firmly in place as he worked her over, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, flickering movements that had her writhing beneath him.

“Lando,” she gasped, her back arching off the couch. “Please… don’t stop…”

He didn’t. Instead, he increased the pressure, his tongue delving deeper as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. One hand slipped away from her hip, sliding up her stomach to palm her breast, tweaking her nipple in time with the rhythm of his tongue.

Y/n’s thighs tightened around him, her body trembling as the pleasure built. She was so close, right on the brink, when Lando unexpectedly pulled away. She groaned in frustration, her hips lifting in search of his mouth again.

Lando chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her wet flesh. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his tone commanding yet playful.

“Lando!” she protested, her voice a mix of frustration and desperation. “Don’t be such a tease—”

But he interrupted her with another slow lick, his tongue dragging through her folds before circling her clit once more. “Then beg,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers with a challenge.

Y/n bit her lip, her pride warring with her need. Finally, she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please… I need you.”

That was all he needed to hear. Lando buried his face between her legs again, his tongue working her relentlessly until she came apart with a cry, her body convulsing with pleasure. He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and oversensitive, her hands pushing weakly at his shoulders.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up her body. His lips crashed onto hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice possessive.

Y/n’s breath was still ragged, her body humming with the aftershocks of her climax as Lando hovered above her. His lips were swollen from kissing her, his eyes dark and hungry. She could see the unspoken desire in them, raw and unmistakable. He wanted her—all of her. And she wanted him just as much.

“Let me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands drifted down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin. Her fingers grazed the waistband of his shorts, her intention clear. “Let me…” she started again, but he caught her wrist before she could go any further.

“No.” The word was firm, almost a growl, but his touch was gentle as he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I don’t want you to. Not yet.”

She blinked up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves lapping against the yacht. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Lando shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned down to brush his nose against hers. “You already do,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Every time I look at you, every time I touch you, you make me feel more than anyone ever has. But right now, all I need is to be inside you. I can’t wait any longer.”

Her heart stuttered at his words, the intensity in his voice sending shivers down her spine. She opened her mouth to argue, to insist on giving him pleasure first, but he silenced her with a kiss—slow and deep, his tongue coaxing hers into submission. When he pulled away, she was breathless, her mind foggy with need.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I know what we both need.”

Y/n nodded, her resistance melting away as he reached for the hem of his shorts, tugging them down in one swift motion. Her breath hitched when she saw him—hard and throbbing, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her hips as he guided himself to her entrance.

The first press of him against her made her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. He paused, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he pushed forward, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her.

“Oh God…” Y/n moaned, her head falling back against the cushions as she adjusted to the sensation of him filling her completely. It was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the way he fit her so perfectly. She had never felt anything like it.

Lando groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. “Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. “You feel… incredible.”

He didn’t move right away, letting her adjust as he kissed her softly, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve as if memorizing her. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss filled with adoration.

When he finally began to move, it was slow—agonizingly so. He pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in, each thrust measured and deliberate. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her hands clutching at his back as he set a pace that was maddeningly unhurried.

“Lando…” she whimpered, her hips lifting to meet his as desperation began to build inside her. She needed more—needed him—but he refused to give in, his movements remaining steady and controlled.

His lips found hers again, swallowing her moans as he deepened the kiss. “Patience, love,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with restraint. Step by step, let your body fucking adapt to mine. “I want to savour this. I want to savour you.”

Y/n couldn’t help but whimper, her nails scraping lightly against his back as she tried to pull him closer. “But I need… more…” she pleaded, her voice breaking on the last word.

Lando chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through her. “Do you now?” he teased, nipping at her lower lip. “What do you need, darling? Tell me.”

She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing at the question. But the way he looked at her—so intense, so utterly focused on her—made it impossible to hold back. “I need… you,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “All of you.”

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more urgency. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling against hers in a way that made her cry out. “Because you have me. You’ve always had me.”

His rhythm shifted slightly, still slow but deeper, each stroke hitting a spot inside her that had her seeing stars. Y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him even closer as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her.

Lando’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck to her collarbone. He sucked lightly at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that would remind her of this moment long after it was over. His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he gazed down at her. “Absolutely perfect.”

Y/n blushed, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the sensations he was creating. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promised, his voice firm as he continued to move inside her, slow and steady. His lips found hers again, their breaths mingling as he kissed her deeply. “I’ll never stop making you feel this good.”

Her orgasm built slowly, creeping up on her like the tide. With every thrust, every kiss, every whispered word, she felt herself slipping closer and closer to the edge. And when she finally fell, it was with his name on her lips, her body trembling with the force of it.

Lando held her through it, his own release following soon after. He buried his face in her neck, muffling his groan as he spilled inside her, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies entwined as they came down from their high. Y/n’s heart was pounding, her limbs heavy with exhaustion, but she had never felt more content.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his arms tightening around her. The yacht rocked gently beneath them, the stars above casting a silvery glow over their tangled bodies. He tilted his head back, his gaze drifting upward to the vast expanse of sky. “Never had sex under the stars before,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.

His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, sending shivers through her. Y/n turned her head slightly, following his gaze. The night was endless, the stars shimmering like scattered diamonds. She felt small, yet impossibly connected to him in that moment. “Neither have I,” she admitted softly, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.

His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile as he looked back at her. “Good.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Now it’s just ours.” She swallowed, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice thick with something deeper than desire. “Stay with me the whole weekend. Please.” Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the raw vulnerability in his words. She nodded, her fingers curling into the warmth of his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.

Lando exhaled, a quiet sound of relief, and pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. The stars watched silently as they clung to each other, the night wrapping them in its embrace.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Kiss Me Tender (Castiel)

Summary: you confess to Castiel that you're in love with him.

Warnings: fluff <3

WC: 690

Read on Ao3!

-

The quiet hum of the bunker surrounded you, a stark contrast to the chaos that often came with hunting. Tonight, however, was different. Sam had gone off to research something, and Dean was off on a supply run. It left you alone with Castiel, the former angel who seemed to understand both the beauty and sorrow of the world better than anyone you’d ever known.

You sat in the library, surrounded by old books and maps, pretending to focus on something, but your mind kept wandering to the angel across from you. His intense blue eyes scanned through ancient texts, but every so often, you’d catch him glancing your way. There was a gentleness in his expression that made your heart flutter, something you tried to push down for far too long.

“What are you reading?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Castiel blinked and looked up at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’m researching a new demon sigil Dean wanted me to examine. It’s... fascinating.”

You chuckled softly. “Fascinating? Demons aren’t really fascinating, Cas. They’re kind of the opposite.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Yes, but their sigils are intricate. There’s something beautiful about how even the most malevolent beings can create something complex.”

That was Castiel—always finding beauty in unexpected places. The way he saw the world never ceased to amaze you. But it wasn’t just his perspective that drew you to him; it was his kindness, his loyalty, and his growing humanity.

He shifted in his seat, closing the book and setting it aside. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated. There had been a tension building between the two of you for weeks, an unspoken energy that neither of you dared to address. And now, sitting alone in the dimly lit library, you felt it more than ever.

“I’m fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. It wavered, carrying a weight that you couldn’t hide anymore.

Castiel’s eyes softened as he stood up, moving closer to you. He knelt by your side, his gaze locked on yours. “You don’t seem fine.”

Your breath hitched as his hand gently touched yours. His warmth seeped into your skin, and for a moment, everything else faded away. You had no words, no witty remark, no excuse. Only the truth you had been running from.

“I think I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted it, feeling the air between you grow thick with uncertainty. But Castiel didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away or seem confused.

Instead, his thumb brushed over your knuckles, his touch steady. “You think?”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Okay... I know I love you.”

His expression softened, and his eyes shone with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Affection? Or something deeper? You weren’t sure.

“I’m... not very familiar with love,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost vulnerable. “But I know how I feel when I’m with you. It’s... different. Strong.”

Your heart raced as he continued.

“I feel... grounded. Like I belong. You’ve shown me things I never understood before—feelings I never knew I could have.”

You could barely breathe as he spoke, every word drawing you closer to him.

“I think I love you too,” Castiel finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, filled with all the unspoken words between you. It was gentle at first, but as he deepened the kiss, you felt the weight of his confession, the purity of his affection.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other. Neither of you said anything for a moment, basking in the warmth of the moment.

“I’ve waited so long to say that,” you whispered.

Castiel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face. “Then let’s not wait anymore.”

--

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

SPN FOREVER PERM: @amelia-song-pond @kenzieam @flamencodiva @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

CASTIEL: @hallecarey1

[chrisstvrns]

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: unresolved angst, secret pregnancy, breakup, abandonment, decision of being a single mother, please let me know if i missed anything! 

word count: 3,333

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

oh, you were so excited. since you were a little girl you dreamed of being a mother. and when you started dating chris six years ago, you knew you wanted him to be there with you. you wanted to grow old with him, raise kids with him and watch your grandchildren grow up.

and now here you were, standing on the front porch of chris’ childhood home in boston, barely standing still as you anxiously yet excitedly fiddle with your rings. buried deep in your spacecamp wellness tote bag was the biggest secret, that in this moment, nobody besides you and God knew of. 

you had texted chris, telling him that you needed to talk. within seconds, he answered, agreeing with you. you didnt know what he needed to talk about, but you had to tell him. 

you knock on the door, the door immediately being opened by chris, who had a serious look on his face. you reach for his hands, gently taking them in yours. 

he gives you a weak smile, pulling you close as he kisses your forehead, leading you inside. you walk into the living room, flashing nick and matt a quickly smile as they hurry out of the room, odd looks on their faces as they leave you and chris alone to talk in the now quiet house, since his parents had gone out. 

“okay, so. i need to tell you something.” you reach for chris, who ignores your reaching arms, sitting next to you, a bit of a distance between you as he buries his face in his hands. 

you knew how he was. when chris got like this—quiet, tense, distant—it meant something was weighing heavy on his heart. something he’d been thinking about for a long time, probably rehearsing how to say it in his mind for days, if not weeks. your chest tightened as you watched him, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers threading through his hair like he was trying to steady himself.  

"chris?" your voice came out softer than you expected, your excitement from moments ago quickly being replaced by a gnawing pit of dread. you reached out again, but he didn't look at you. his silence said more than words ever could.  

he sighed, dropping his hands and finally meeting your eyes, and that look—God, that look—hit you like a punch to the stomach. his eyes, usually so warm and full of love, were clouded with guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. regret, maybe.  

"i—" he started, then stopped, his jaw tightening. "i don’t even know how to say this." his voice cracked on the last word, and you could feel the tears welling up in your own eyes, unbidden, your throat tightening in response.  

"chris, just say it. whatever it is, we can figure it out, okay?" you tried to sound steady, but your voice wavered, betraying the panic clawing at your chest.  

he shook his head, leaning back and running his hands through his hair again. "i don’t think we can figure this out. that’s the thing," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

your stomach dropped.  

"what... what are you talking about?" you asked, even though you already knew. you needed him to say it, to rip the band-aid off, even if it would tear you apart.  

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. "i can’t do this anymore," he said finally, his words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last.  

your hands fell into your lap, your heart shattering into a million pieces. "what do you mean? you... you can’t do us anymore?"  

chris nodded, swallowing hard. "i’ve been thinking about this for a while," he admitted, his voice raw. "and i hate myself for it, but... i think it’s better if we end things now before we hurt each other more."  

"hurt each other?" you echoed, your voice trembling. "chris, what are you even saying? we’re not hurting each other. i love you."  

"and i love you too," he said quickly, his voice breaking. "but sometimes love isn’t enough. i feel like i’m holding you back, like i can’t give you what you deserve. you deserve someone who... who’s better at all of this than i am."  

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "that’s not true. you’re everything to me. why are you doing this?"  

he reached for your hand then, and you almost pulled away, but you couldn’t. even now, even as he was breaking your heart, you craved his touch.  

"because i don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself," he said, his voice steady now, like he’d convinced himself that this was the right thing to do. "i’ve seen it happen before, and i can’t let it happen to you. i love you too much for that."  

you opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that this was a mistake, but the words wouldn’t come. deep down, you could see that his mind was made up. the stubbornness that you loved about him was now the thing that would tear you apart.  

chris stood, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled away. "i’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you have no idea how much this hurts me."  

“chris, stop. you.. you cant do this, not now..” you whisper, youre heart breaking as he stands up, beginning to walk away.

you softly chase after him, reaching for his arms, tearing streaming down your face. he faces you, gently taking your hands in his. 

“i love you, baby. so much. but im doing this because i love you. i see the hate you get from my fans, and it kills me. it kills me so fucking much knowing that i cant do anything to stop it, no matter how many things i say to them. "and that's why i can't let this keep happening," chris said, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your trembling fingers. "you don’t deserve any of this. you don’t deserve to feel like you have to fight for your place in my life. none of it’s fair to you."

your chest tightened, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over. "but chris, i don’t care about any of that. the fans, the hate, the comments... none of it matters to me. you’re what matters. you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered."

he let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back his own tears. "but it should matter, baby. you say it doesn’t, but i see it. i see how it wears on you. you’ve stopped posting your art, stopped sharing the things you love because you’re scared of what they’ll say. i see how you smile less. and i can’t... i can’t live with knowing that i’m the reason for that."

"you’re not the reason for it," you argued, your voice desperate, shaking. "those people don’t even know me, chris. they’re just looking for someone to blame because they can’t have you for themselves. that’s not on you. that’s on them."

he shook his head, his grip on your hands tightening. "it doesn’t matter if it’s on them. it’s still happening because of me. and the longer we stay together, the worse it’ll get. you think it’s bad now? it’s only going to get harder. i can’t stand the thought of you going through that for me."

you felt your knees weaken, like the weight of his words was pressing down on you, suffocating you. "but don’t you see, chris? you’re worth it. we’re worth it. i don’t care how hard it gets, i’ll fight for us. i’ll fight every single day if it means i get to keep you."

his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he looked at you, his expression torn between love and heartbreak. "and that’s what kills me the most," he whispered. "you shouldn’t have to fight for us. love isn’t supposed to be like this. it’s supposed to be easy, and safe, and full of joy. and i... i can’t give you that right now. not the way you deserve."

"you’re wrong," you said, your voice barely audible, your heart breaking with every word. "love is worth fighting for. you’re worth fighting for."

he gently starts walking you toward the door, the fight to not cry visible on his face "you don’t understand, baby. this is me fighting for you. this is me trying to protect you from everything that comes with loving me. i don’t want you to look back in a few years and resent me for all the pain you went through just to be with me."

"i could never resent you," you said, your voice firm despite the tears streaming down your face. "never. you’re everything to me, chris. please, don’t do this. don’t throw us away because of something we can get through together."

he closed his eyes, his head bowing like he couldn’t stand to see the pain in your eyes anymore. "i’ve already made up my mind," he said softly, and those words hit you like a knife to the chest. "this is the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do, but i’m doing it because i love you. because i want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me."

"you are my happiness," you cried, your voice breaking. "don’t you get that? you’re all i need."

"and you’re all i’ll ever love," he said, his voice heavy with finality. "but sometimes love isn’t enough."

he leaned in and kissed your forehead one last time, his lips lingering there as though he was trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his memory forever. when he pulled away, you saw the tears streaming down his face, and it shattered you even more.

"i love you. im sorry" he whispered, his voice trembling as he softly pushed you out of his front door, his heart heavy with regret 

you stood there, frozen, your entire world crumbling around you as you watched him slam the door in your face. your hand instinctively went to your tote bag, clutching it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. the secret you had been so excited to share—the little piece of him you were carrying, the piece of both of you—was now a weight you didn’t know how to bear alone.

"chris," you called out one last time, your voice a broken sob as you hoped he’d open the door again "please. the baby.." you whispered, your voice barely audible, a plea that hung heavy in the air.

but he didn’t say come back. he didnt open the door. you heard his footsteps get farther away, meaning hes going up to his bedroom, leaving you alone with nothing but memories of the past six years, the echo of his absence, and the secret you hadn’t been able to tell him. 

you stood there, staring at the door that had just closed in your face, your breath caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp. the cold, boston air of january nipped at your cheeks, but it didn’t register. all you could focus on was the weight in your chest, the ache that had settled there as you stared at the house in front of you.  

chris’ house. the house where it all began.  

your eyes drifted to the porch below you, the same porch where you’d sat together as kids, eating popsicles in the summer and talking about everything from your favorite cartoons to your wildest dreams. you remembered how he’d teased you about the way you always peeled the wrappers off your popsicle sticks, how his laughter had filled the air and wrapped around you like the warmest embrace.  

your gaze lingered on the window to the living room. you could almost see the two of you, years ago, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between you, arguing over which movie to watch. he always let you pick in the end, even when he pretended not to care about the cheesy rom-coms you loved so much.  

and the backyard… God, the backyard. you could still picture the two of you running around barefoot, him chasing you with water balloons until you tripped and fell into the grass, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. it was in that backyard where he’d kissed you for the first time, his lips brushing against yours so softly you thought you might’ve imagined it. but you didn’t. it had been real. and it had been everything.  

now, those memories felt like ghosts, haunting you as you stood there, clutching your tote bag like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. how could he do this? how could he shut the door on everything you’d built together? on all the years, all the love, all the promises whispered under the stars?  

your eyes drifted to his bedroom window, and your heart clenched. you remembered sneaking in and out of that room, climbing the trellis late at night when you just couldn’t stand being apart for another second. the way he’d pull you into his arms the moment you made it inside, his voice low as he whispered, “you’re crazy for doing this, you know that?” but his smile always told you he didn’t mean it.  

now, the window was dark. no light, no sign of him. just an empty, hollow void where he used to be.  

you took a shaky breath, your hand instinctively going to your stomach as the weight of your secret pressed down on you. how could you have been so excited just moments ago? how could you have thought this was going to be the happiest day of your life, when now it felt like your world was ending?  

tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, as if leaving would somehow mean letting go of everything. of him. of the life you’d imagined together.  

your mind replayed his words over and over, each one cutting deeper than the last. “i can’t do this anymore… you deserve better… this is me fighting for you…”  

you wanted to scream, to bang on the door until he opened it and let you in. until he saw that you were still standing there, ready to fight for him, for you, for everything you’d built. but you knew it wouldn’t change anything. his mind was made up.  

and so you stayed, your feet frozen to the porch as you stared at the house that held every memory you’d ever shared with him. the house that had once felt like home.  

but now, it felt like a stranger’s. cold, distant, and unreachable. just like him. 

yet, back in the house, chris was a wreck. he broke up with you. he was sitting on his couch, face buried in his hands as nick makes his way back downstairs 

“did you.. do it?” nick asks, sitting next to his brother. 

chris couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. his hands trembled as they covered his face, tears streaming through his fingers. he nodded weakly, barely able to get the words out.  

“yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i did it.”  

nick let out a low breath, leaning back against the couch as he crossed his arms. he didn’t say anything right away, just studied his brother with a mix of pity and frustration.  

“and how do you feel now?” nick finally asked, his voice cautious, careful not to push too hard.  

chris shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he stared blankly at the coffee table. “like shit,” he admitted, his voice raw. “like i just ripped my own heart out.”  

nick frowned, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “then why’d you do it? if it’s tearing you up this much, why push her away?”  

chris sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. “because she deserves better,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she deserves a life without the hate, without the constant pressure of being with someone like me. she says she’s fine, but i see it, nick. i see how it’s breaking her, and i can’t… i can’t keep doing that to her.”  

nick studied him for a moment, his brows furrowing. “and you think this is what’s best for her?”  

“yeah,” chris said, though his voice wavered, as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “i mean.. it has to be. right?”  

nick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, man, i get it. you think you’re protecting her, and maybe you are in some ways. but breaking her heart? breaking your own heart? that doesn’t sound like protection to me. it sounds like you’re running away.”  

“i’m not running away,” chris snapped, his voice rising before he quickly deflated, his shoulders slumping. “i’m not. i just.. i love her too much to keep putting her through this. i don’t want her to hate me one day because of all the shit that comes with being with me.”  

nick tilted his head, his expression softening. “and what if she never would? what if she meant it when she said you’re worth it?”  

chris shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears again. “it doesn’t matter. i made my decision. it’s done.”  

nick leaned back, letting out a long breath as he watched his brother unravel in front of him. “you’re stubborn as hell, you know that? but you’re also an idiot.”  

“thanks, nick,” chris muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  

“no, seriously,” nick said, leaning forward again. “you’re sitting here, miserable as hell, and she’s probably out there feeling the same way. and for what? because you think you know what’s best for her? maybe—just maybe—you should’ve let her decide that for herself.”  

chris didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor. nick sighed, standing up and giving his brother a pat on the shoulder.  

“you’re gonna regret this, chris,” nick said quietly, his voice laced with a mix of sympathy and frustration. “and when you do, I hope it’s not too late to fix it.”  

nick walked away, leaving chris alone on the couch, the silence of the house pressing down on him like a weight. he sat there for what felt like hours, replaying the moment he’d closed the door in your face, the sound of your voice—broken, desperate—echoing in his mind.  

“please. the baby…” 

the words hit him like a freight train, and he shot up from the couch, his heart racing.  

“the baby?” he whispered to himself, his mind scrambling to make sense of it. had he heard you right? had you really said…  

panic set in as the realization washed over him. if what you said was true, then he hadn’t just broken your heart—he’d walked away from something so much bigger, so much more important.  

without thinking, chris grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, his chest heaving as he searched the street for any sign of you. but you were gone.  

“damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the porch. he needed to find you. he needed to know if what you said was true, to explain himself, to tell you he’d made a mistake—a huge, life-altering mistake.  

but deep down, he feared it was already too late. 

he goes back into the house, now pacing his kitchen, periodically sipping from a can of pepsi. 

“could’ve jus’.. yeah, she could’ve just been callin’ me ‘baby’, i mean, she always did.. shes not.. theres no way, she cant be..” he rambles, running his hand through his hair, his whole body nearly shaking. 

you? you were already back home, crying your eyes out in bed as you held the test in your hand. were you really going to raise this baby on your own?

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: nearly threw up writing this

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader

warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread

a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.

You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.

However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.

You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.

That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.

Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.

That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.

Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.

Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.

“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.

Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.

His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.

"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.

“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried

Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.

“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.

You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.

“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy

“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.

“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.

You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.

“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.

“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure

“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.

The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.

Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.

Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.

oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[ryomensdoll]

A Problem Named Sukuna (sukuna x reader) [college au]

> Warnings: 18+, smut, college au, face-sitting, creampie, kinda overstim, dom-kuna/sub-reader, sukuna and reader drink alcohol, drunk-ish sex, if I forgot any lmk!

> Word Count: 2.4k

> A/N: something about frat boy Sukuna makes me feral. Not my art; credits to: @ Chalseu_D on Twitter

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

You didn’t know exactly when Sukuna became a problem.

Maybe it was the first time you had the misfortune of sitting next to him in class. Sprawling across the seat like he owned it, manspreading so obnoxiously that you had to shove his knee aside just to have room for yourself. He had looked at you then, amused, like a cat staring down a feisty mouse.

Though, he might've become a problem when he first spoke to you.

“You’re cute,” he said. He sounded bored with the world, but had decided you were interesting enough to look at. “I think I’ll keep you.”

You barely glanced up from your notes and scoffed. You were well aware of who he was due to his reputation, and from what you could gather, he was bad news all around. “Not interested.” You said simply.

Sukuna chuckled, finding your dismissive response quite entertaining. “You don’t even know what I’m offering.”

That's when you finally turned to him, meeting his gaze directly for the first time as you get a good glance at his features. Oh, I can see why the other girls fawn over him now.

“You’re offering yourself,” you said flatly. “Which, lucky for you, plenty of people would jump at. I’m just not one of them.”

That should have been the end of it, but guys like Sukuna didn’t get rejected often. He had the face, the body, and the sheer audacity to walk through life like he owned everything in his line of sight. That worked on a lot of people.

But you refused to let it work on you.

Sukuna tilted his head, examining you intently. You hated how it made your nerves flare up and how it felt like he could see right through you. Then, to your irritation, his smirk widened.

“Don’t worry, princess.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping as if sharing a secret. “I like the ones who play hard to get.”

You exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around your pen. “It’s not a game, Sukuna. I’m just not interested.”

His grin didn’t waver. If anything, it sharpened. “Sure,” he said easily. Then he pulled out his phone, tapped a few things, and suddenly shoved it into your hands.

You blinked. “What—”

“Put your number in.”

You stared at him and your heart skipped a few beats. “You cannot be serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“Sukuna, I literally just told you—”

“For when you change your mind,” he said, cutting you off, grinning like he knew something you didn’t. “I’ll even let you name yourself something cute. How about Mine?”

You scowled at him and his antics, doing your best not to fall for his charms. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but against your better judgment, you typed in your number anyway... if only so he will leave me alone.

And so after that encounter in your lecture, you didn't see him in person much over the next week, but that didn't mean he wasn't in your life. And, well, that's because Sukuna proved that handing over your number for temporary relief had been the worst decision you could’ve possibly made.

Maybe that's when Sukuna became a problem, because the texts you had been receiving were as persistent and insufferable as he was in class that day.

Whether it was early morning.

Sukuna: "Mornin’, princess. Dream about me?"

Or in the middle of the day.

Sukuna: "What are you wearing?"

Or late at night when you both should definitely be asleep.

Sukuna: "Bet you’d look real cute under me."

It became a pattern more quickly than your disdain for him had grown. And despite the fact that you seldom replied, he never let up. But when you did reply?

You: "Have you ever considered just shutting the hell up?"

Sukuna: "Sure. Have you ever considered sitting on my face?"

Being Sukuna's current pursuit was not for the faint of heart.

And then there's the chance that Sukuna had become a problem on that night he invited you to one of his parties. That night, as you were getting ready to relax for the evening, you felt the all-too-familiar buzz of your phone. The screen lit up, and you knew exactly who it was before even looking.

Sukuna: "Throwing a party tonight. It'd be a shame if you didn't show."

You scoffed at his audacity. Of course he’d invite you to one of his infamous frat parties. It was just another attempt to lure you in with his charm, arrogance, and whatever else he thought could win you over. But before you could reply, he was already messaging you again.

Sukuna: "Or are you scared that a few drinks will show your true feelings, princess?"

It definitely felt like a challenge, one you couldn't ignore. Though, to respond would be falling for his trap, you didn't care and had already made your decision for that night.

You: "I’m not your princess. But I’ll be at your party. Just to prove a point."

It was petty. You have no obligation to prove you can hold your own after a few drinks. But there was something in the way he spoke to you that just made it impossible to let it slide.

Sukuna: "I knew you'd come around. See you soon, princess."

And just like that, you were committed. You reminded yourself that this was just about proving a point. But as you walk across campus dolled up all pretty, you start to realize how foolish this might end up being.

You stood at the door of the frat house, your heart pounding in your chest. The thumping bass of the music hit you first, the music blaring through the walls as the door swung open. A few people rushed past you, drunk and laughing, but your eyes were fixed on the room ahead. The crowd was massive, but somehow, through the craze, you spotted him immediately.

Sukuna leaned against the wall, his usual smirk plastered across his face as he watched you with that unmistakable air of superiority. His eyes flickered to your lips before they met yours, and for a moment, you almost felt like the whole world had stopped.

"Glad you made it, princess," he said, voice as smooth as ever. He looked exceptionally good tonight, though he hadn't done anything special, he just looked so... effortless. And that damn smirk was already making your heart flutter a bit.

You didn’t respond, your only reply a deep, inward breath. His presence was like a weight pressing on your chest. He was as dangerous as he was captivating, but you weren't going to let any of this stop you from proving he had no impact on you.

"I’ll get you a drink," he offered, eager to see you actually hold up this point throughout the night.

But perhaps Sukuna became a problem after he convinced you to down 3 shots within an hour.

Sukuna kept his eyes on you as you steadily downed the drinks, one after another, as your conviction to prove your point never wavered.

You hadn’t planned on getting tipsy, but it was inevitably going to happen when you walked in the door. You weren’t sure when it happened, but suddenly, Sukuna’s presence was all-encompassing, pulling you in closer, tugging at you in ways that felt both urgent and undeniable.

Was it a problem when your body started to betray you? After the tipsiness was in full swing and you found yourself standing a little too close to him, holding onto his arm as you laughed at something you couldn't quite remember? The space between you was no longer an uncomfortable gap as your fingers curled around the solid muscle of his bicep.

With every step you took, with every movement you made, he could feel it. He could feel you caving in. He could feel how the alcohol was loosening your tongue, your body, your everything. And he couldn’t help but watch, his gaze dark and intense as he watched the shift.

Your breath came a little quicker now, more shallow, and you caught yourself leaning in closer to him without realizing it. You would glance up at him from time to time, only to get lost in those daunting eyes of his. The way his tattoos lined his face and defined his features just made you all the more interested in him. Is that when Sukuna became a problem? When your mind started to realize just how attractive he really was?

It wasn’t until a few more shots and another hour later that you found yourself sitting on the couch; that you realized just how far you’d gone. The shift happened without warning. One moment, you were standing, trying to prove some silly point, and the next, you were perched on his lap, your legs straddling his, your body weight resting heavily against his chest.

Had Sukuna become a problem when you let him grip onto your hips and pull you closer to him? You hadn’t meant to be this close, but now, with your hands on his shoulders, you're the one desperate to lean in first for a kiss.

Sukuna was a problem. But right now, you couldn’t even remember why you ever tried to fight it.

You couldn’t remember when the teasing, the banter, the defiance had gone. It was all gone now, replaced by the heat building between you, the undeniable pull that made your pulse race. You felt him smile into the kiss, a wicked, self-assured curve of his lips, and it drove you wild. He knew what he was doing to you, and the fact that you didn’t know whether to pull away or get closer made it all the more intoxicating.

And Sukuna became an even bigger problem when you couldn't resist the urge to grind against him ever-so-slightly.

He pulled back, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide as he studied your flushed face. A satisfied smirk spread across his features. “You really are something else.”

His hand slid down to your lower back, pressing you even closer, and the weight of his body on yours made your breath hitch. But it was more than just the physical pressure; it was the sensation of being completely at his mercy, the intensity of it all, and it was both overwhelming and exhilarating.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as you continued to kiss, your heart fluttering in your chest as you drowned in the sensation of his tongue in your mouth and continued to roll your hips against him. The alcohol may have loosened you up, but it wasn’t just the drinks making you needy, desperate even... it was him. He was making you crave this in ways you hadn’t even known you could.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his smirk widening as his grip on you tightened once more. Before you could even react, he was standing up, lifting you effortlessly off his lap like it was nothing. His strong arms cradled you close, and one hand slid to your ass, gripping it firmly to support you, his touch possessive and casual, as though you had always belonged in his hold.

You blinked and gasped, momentarily surprised, the room swaying around you as your body felt weightless in his arms. “Sukuna, wait—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, his lips curling into a grin. “You’re overthinking it, princess,” he murmured, his grip firm but reassuring as he held you close. “Relax. This’ll be fun, and I can't wait to see what kind of a hot mess you turn into."

Before you could argue further, he began to move, striding confidently through the crowded party. You felt small and helpless in his grasp, like a ragdoll being carried without a care. The noise, the music, the people; All you could focus on was the solid warmth of his chest beneath you, his breath warm on your skin, and the way his hold on you never loosened as he carried you upstairs.

Although, Sukuna most likely became a real problem when he made you sit on his face like he had mentioned in those texts a few days ago. As he licked and sucked on your clit in ways that felt too good to describe you arched your back whilst trying to hold up your weight a little still.

"I said," Sukuna grips your thighs and pulls you down more, "fucking sit on my face." The words are muffled but you fully understand. And so you do. And as you do, your legs shake and you let out these pitiful whines and moans that show just how overstimulated you are.

You can't hold it back anymore, not when his mouth is on you like this, not when the pleasure is so good that your toes curl unwillingly. "S-Sukuna I—" You couldn't even finish your warning before you're cumming hard all over his face.

He gives you no rest, picking you up and shifting the position, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down just enough to free his hard length. Was Sukuna becoming a problem the more and more that you bounced up and down on his unfairly thick cock? The stretch of it made you feel so full that any point you were wanting to prove tonight had fizzled up and died as you gripped onto him helplessly.

Your lips find his and you moan into his mouth as he continues to have his way with you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, only making the reality of how much of a problem Sukuna is more grounded. Though, you didn't really need that reminded, not when the tip of his dick is hitting your cervix every other second as he trusts into you and bottoms out each time.

And as that goes on to the point where he groans and unloads hot, sticky spurts of cum deep inside your needy pussy, your mind blanks as you ride the high and you collapse into Sukuna's chest as your body damn near gives out.

Breath shaking, full on panting, you muster a pathetic, "H-Hey Sukuna..."

He smirks at the unraveled mess still sitting on his cock and lazily answers you, a little breathless himself, "Yeah princess?"

You smile and look up at him, oxytocin coursing through your body which causes you to say the silliest things as you finally realize what's happened to you. "I think you've become my problem."

His smirk widens and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, a moment of unexpected affection that makes your heart race even more. "Don’t worry about it," he teases. "I’m the best problem you’ll ever have."

[hynzsn]

★ SAFE HAVEN ★

☆ johnny suh x male reader

-> boyfriend!johnny x depressed!reader

꩜ .ᐟ hurt/comfort, fluff

contents: caring!johnny, established relationship, reader has daddy issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms (not eating, isolating), implied/referenced emotional abuse (from reader’s father), swearing, hugs, pet names (babe, baby), reassurance from johnny

wc: 2.7k

summary: you’ve been mia for weeks - ghosting calls, barely eating, and basically becoming one with your bed. the voice in your head, it sounds a lot like your father, and it keeps telling you you’re worthless. good thing johnny’s voice - one that whispers sweet nothings and promises of forever - is even louder.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[8:37 PM] 📱-> johnny 💝: yo, babe wtf?! you alive over there?? it’s been a minute…

[8:37 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: okay, jokes aside… please text me back. i’m worried about you 😔

[8:41 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: …

[8:45PM]📱-> johnny 💝: i’m coming over.

the messages sat unread, another three little gray bubbles added to the ever-growing count on your lock screen. you didn’t even bother to glance at them before letting your phone clatter back onto the mattress.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who always had it together, the one who could handle anything life threw at you with a smirk and a sarcastic quip. but lately, the mask had been feeling heavier, the edges digging into your skin, the forced smile making your cheeks ache.

you’d been spiraling for a while now, the familiar darkness creeping in like a fog, suffocating the joy out of everything. it started subtly – skipping meals, pushing deadlines, letting texts go unanswered. then it escalated, the isolation becoming a comforting cocoon as you withdrew further and further into yourself.

your phone buzzed again, the insistent vibration making you flinch. you knew it was johnny. he was the only one who still bothered, who saw through the carefully constructed facade you presented to the world.

he’d seen you at your worst – the breakdowns, the insecurities, the ugly crying sessions fueled by cheap instant ramen and self-loathing. and through it all, he never judged, never wavered. he was your rock, your anchor in the storm that raged within you.

but even rocks could crumble under enough pressure, and you couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him down with you. so, you did what you always did – you pushed everyone away, retreating into the fortress of your own making.

[9:36 PM]

a sharp knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. you froze, heart hammering in your chest. you weren’t expecting anyone, hadn’t spoken to another soul in days.

the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“fuck,” you muttered, dragging yourself out of bed. your reflection in the darkened tv screen made you wince. you looked like a ghost – pale, gaunt, with dark circles etched beneath your eyes.

“i’m coming, hold on!” you called out, your voice raspy from disuse.

as you fumbled with the multiple locks on your door, a wave of dizziness washed over you. you leaned against the wall for support, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

the door swung open, revealing johnny standing in the hallway, his face a mixture of relief and concern.

“hey,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in your disheveled appearance.

“hey,” you mumbled back, avoiding his eyes.

“can i come in?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, allowing him to enter.

the moment he stepped inside, johnny’s face fell. the air was thick with the smell of unwashed laundry and stale takeout containers littered the coffee table. the curtains were drawn, casting the apartment in a perpetual twilight.

“jesus, babe,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “what the fuck happened?”

you shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “nothing. just… tired.”

he didn’t buy it for a second. he crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into a hug. you stiffened initially, surprised by the sudden contact, but then you melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm to your aching soul.

“don’t lie to me,” he murmured into your hair. “i know something’s wrong. you’ve been mia for weeks.”

you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne – a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“worry me?” he chuckled humorlessly. “you scared the shit out of me, you know that? i thought something had happened to you.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, the words catching in your throat.

he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were filled with concern.

“talk to me,” he pleaded. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the tangled mess of emotions that had taken root in your mind, choking the life out of you?

“it’s just…” you started, your voice cracking. “everything feels… pointless. like i’m just going through the motions, you know?”

he nodded slowly, encouraging you to continue.

“i feel like i’m drowning, johnny,” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “and the worst part is, i don’t even know why. i have no reason to feel this way. i have a good life, a great boyfriend…”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “it’s okay to not be okay. you don’t need a reason to feel the way you do. sometimes life just throws you a curveball, and you just gotta roll with it.”

his words, so simple yet profound, struck a chord within you. you had always felt the pressure to be strong, to have it all figured out. but maybe it was okay to not be okay. maybe it was okay to ask for help.

“i hate that you’re right,” you said, managing a weak smile.

he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. “that’s my boy.”

he pulled you back into a hug, this time tighter than before. you clung to him, letting his strength seep into you, chasing away the shadows that had been haunting you for so long.

“you know i’m here for you, right?” he murmured against your hair. “always.”

you nodded, burying your face in his chest, unwilling to let go. in his arms, you felt safe, protected from the storm raging within you.

“always,” you echoed, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down your cheek.

johnny didn’t let you go for a long time, holding you close as if he were afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip. the steady beat of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body pressed against yours – it was a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

when he finally pulled away, his expression was serious. “okay, enough of this moping around,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “first things first, we’re getting some real food in you. and i’m not talking about that instant ramen crap.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a look. “don’t even try it,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “i know your eating habits have been shit lately. i can practically see your ribs.”

he was right, of course. you hadn’t had a proper meal in days, surviving on a steady diet of instant noodles and self-pity. but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

“i’m not really hungry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

he raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “right, and i’m the tooth fairy. come on, babe, humor me.”

he didn’t wait for a response, instead taking your hand and pulling you towards the door. you stumbled after him, your legs shaky from disuse.

“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“my place,” he replied over his shoulder. “my fridge is stocked with enough food to feed a small army. and before you protest, you need a shower and a change of clothes, sweetheart. you reek of despair and instant ramen.”

he said it with so much affection, you couldn’t even be embarrassed. he was right, though. a shower did sound amazing.

the drive to johnny’s apartment was a blur. you sat in the passenger seat, watching the city lights stream by, your mind racing with a million thoughts per minute.

as he pulled into his parking spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy. his life seemed so…put together. he had his dream job as an idol, a spacious apartment with a view, and everyone adores him.

you, on the other hand, felt like you were constantly playing catch-up, like you were always one step behind everyone else. your dead-end job at the call center barely paid the bills, your apartment was a testament to your inability to adult properly, and theres the fact that… well, you feel completely lonely. sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding johnny back, embarrassing him. you and johnny have been together for a while now, but the thought of what he actually see’s in you still lingers in the back of your mind…

“you coming?” johnny’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was already out of the car, holding the passenger door open for you.

you forced a smile, hoping it reached your eyes. “yeah, sorry. just lost in thought.”

he gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. he knew better than to push you when you were like this.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

his apartment was everything yours wasn’t – bright, spacious, and impeccably decorated. you felt a pang of guilt, realizing you hadn’t even bothered to tidy up before he came over.

“go on, shower’s in there,” he said, gesturing down the hallway. “towels are in the linen closet. i’ll find you something to wear.”

you almost protested, but the feel of johnny’s softest t-shirt in your hands stopped you. it even smelled like him. you quickly showered, washing away the grime and the lingering sadness that clung to you like a bad cologne.

stepping out, you found the promised clothes on the counter. you pulled on the soft t-shirt, the scent of him enveloping you like a warm hug. it was comforting, familiar. safe.

you found johnny in the kitchen, already dicing vegetables with practiced ease. he looked up as you entered, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“there’s my boy,” he murmured, his gaze lingering for a moment on how his shirt hung on you. “feeling a little more human?”

you nodded, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “yeah, i think i am.”

he was right. a shower, his clothes, his presence – it was already working its magic.

“good,” he said, his smile widening. “make yourself comfortable, baby,” he said, gesturing towards the plush sofa. “it’ll be ready soon.”

you sank onto the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of contentment. you had forgotten how good it felt to be here.

“so,” he said, his voice coming from the kitchen. “talk to me. what’s got you so down?”

you opened your eyes, watching as he moved around the kitchen with an ease that never failed to amaze you. he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hair tousled from running his fingers through it a million times.

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair. “it’s just…everything,” you mumbled, not wanting to burden him with your problems.

he stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, his expression serious. “don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm. “don’t shut me out. talk to me.”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the suffocating weight of your father’s expectations, the constant feeling of never being good enough, the fear that you were destined to end up alone and miserable just like him?

“it’s stupid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“nothing you say is stupid,” he reassured you, walking over and sitting down beside you on the sofa.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “it’s just…my dad called.”

johnny’s face hardened. he knew how much your father’s words could cut you, how deeply his disapproval ran.

“what did he say?” he asked, his voice tight.

you closed your eyes, the memory of your father’s condescending tone, his thinly veiled insults, sending a shiver down your spine.

“the usual,” you mumbled. “disappointment. failure. you know the drill.”

you opened your eyes to find johnny watching you, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.

“he’s an asshole, you know that right?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re worth ten of him, and don’t you ever forget that.”

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but the truth was, his words, as much as they stung, had a way of burrowing under your skin, planting seeds of doubt that were hard to shake off.

“it’s not that easy, johnny,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “it’s like…it’s like his voice is always in my head, telling me i’m not good enough, that i’ll never amount to anything.”

johnny wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. you could hear the steady thump of his heart, a comforting rhythm against the chaos of your own thoughts.

“then we fight back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “we drown out his voice with other voices – voices that love you, voices that support you, voices that remind you of your worth.”

he tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were blazing with a fierce intensity that took your breath away.

“you are not your father,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are kind, you are talented, you are worthy of love. don’t ever let anyone, not even your own blood, tell you otherwise.”

his words, spoken with such conviction, such unwavering belief, pierced through the darkness that had settled over you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark igniting within the ashes of your despair.

“what would i do without you?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

he chuckled, the sound a balm to your soul. “probably starve to death in a pile of dirty laundry,” he teased, his tone light despite the seriousness of the moment.

you swatted his arm playfully, a genuine smile finally reaching your lips. “hey, i’ll have you know i did laundry last week,” you retorted, even though you both knew it was a blatant lie.

he laughed, the sound echoing through the apartment, chasing away the last vestiges of darkness.

“alright, alright, i believe you,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “now, how about that food i promised you? i’m starving.”

he stood up, pulling you along with him. you followed him into the kitchen, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

as he moved around the kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious meal of kimchi fried rice and bulgogi, you watched him with a newfound appreciation. he wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your best friend, your confidante, your rock. he was the one person who never gave up on you, even when you had given up on yourself.

you ate in comfortable silence, the only sound the clinking of chopsticks and the occasional contented sigh. it was amazing how something as simple as a good meal and good company could make the world seem a little less bleak.

after dinner, you helped johnny wash the dishes, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm as you worked side-by-side. as you scrubbed a particularly stubborn pot, you felt his gaze on you.

“what?” you asked, looking up at him with a questioning smile.

“nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s just… i’m glad you’re here.”

you knew what he meant. he wasn’t just talking about being physically present in his apartment; he was talking about letting him in, letting him see the real you, the broken, messy parts that you usually kept hidden from the world.

“me too,” you whispered, leaning against him, seeking his warmth, his strength.

he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“you’re safe here, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “safe with me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, soothing the ache in your heart. In his arms, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were craving. he was your safe haven, your refuge from the storm.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you’d be alright, with him by your side.

[totalswag]

heartbreak — RAFE CAMERON

authors note cheaters suck.

summary a week after finding out your boyfriend cheated on you with a girl from his college, your friends invite you to a bonfire. when rafe finds out about the breakup he gets upset.

warnings cheating, crying, cursing, anger, overprotective!rafe

You sat at the edge of the bed, running your hands through your hair, tears streaming down your face, wondering what you had done to deserve to be treated this way by someone you thought loved you unconditionally.

It started off with you on your bed, phone in hand, browsing instagram. A photo captured your eye and made your stomach sank. It was a photo of Lucas, your boyfriend, with a girl from school. They were at an event at the University of North Carolina, arms around each other and beaming warmly.

Lucas goes to University of North Carolina for school and football; one of the stars on the team. You stayed home at a community college then transfer to a four year afterwards.

Early today, you were scrolling through instagram like you typically do when you have nothing else to do. Your gut told you to go through Lucas following, so you did. Came across a girl name, Emily.

You clicked on her profile, your heart beating faster with each passing second. There were further images of her and Lucas, some more intimate than others. You had a dreadful twist in your gut as you went through the comments and captions.

"You've got to be kidding me" you mumbled under your breath in disbelief in what you were seeing.

Lucas had never mentioned Emily before, certainly not in a way that said they were more than friends. Your eyes began to sting with the fear of tears.

For the past few weeks, your boyfriend, Lucas, of two years has been acting strange towards you and taking hours to respond to your texts and calls. You started feeling like something was up before you went to visit him at college.

Lucas was home for the summer, and you knew you had to approach him about it. You couldn't keep the treachery inside you any longer. You took a long breath to calm yourself down, then texted him to come over. Within an hour, he was at your door, smiling and entirely ignorant of the storm rising inside you.

"Hey, babe," he said, leaning in for a kiss. You moved your head, and his lips brushed across your cheek instead.

"We need to talk," you said, your voice wavering despite your efforts to remain composed.

Lucas frowned, worry lines etched on his brow. "What's wrong?"

What's wrong? You cheating on me.

You opened Instagram, showed him a photo of him with Emily, and watched as his face paled. "Who is she?" you asked, your voice firmer now, rage fueling your resolve.

He knows he's caught.

"She's just a friend," Lucas replied, too soon and defensively. His gaze shifted away from yours, confirming your worst thoughts.

"A friend?" You could hear disbelief in your own voice. "Friends do not look at each other like that. Friends don't hide anything from their girlfriends."

Lucas gulped hard and ran a hand over his hair. "Look, it's not as you think. We...came close, but it didn't mean anything."

"Didn't mean anything?" You reverberated, your voice increasing. "Did you sleep with her?"

He paused, his gaze catching yours for a brief, painful moment before moving away. "Yes," he said quietly, the word like a stab to the heart.

Two years down the drain.

You felt the tears well up, but you didn't bother to brush them away. "How could you, Lucas?" "How could you do this to us?"

"Did I mean nothing to you? Two years of us being together mean nothing Lucas? I can't believe what I'm hearing from you" you ramble with tears falling from your face.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "That was a mistake. "I was drunk, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"That doesn't make it okay," you said, your voice breaking. "You betrayed me."

Lucas leaned out to touch your arm, but you backed away, shaking your head. "I need you to leave," you murmured in a hollow voice. "I can't even look at you right now."

He simply nodded, knowing better than to dispute. "I'm so sorry," he said as he walked out the door, leaving you alone with your broken trust.

When you heard the front door close, you collapsed onto your bed blanket, shedding all of your tears. You never thought this would happen to you.

A week after the break up you've barely left your house; you wore comfy clothes around the house, ate, showered, cried, and cried.

Your friends texted you, wondering where you had been for the previous week. You needed to tell them since they knew you well enough to notice when you go missing for an extended period of time.

He doesn't deserve you.

He's a piece of shit.

Who does he think he is.

Later that night, as you sat cuddled up in bed, your phone vibrated with a message. It came from your friend Mia.

Mia: hey, there's a bonfire on the beach tonight. you should come. It'll help you get your mind off things.

You paused for a moment before deciding what to do. Anything was preferable to sitting in your room, rehashing the awful break up with Lucas over and over.

The beach was bustling with laughing and the crackling of a bonfire. You found friends quickly and attempted to immerse yourself in their presence.

When your bare feet touched the sand, you felt your body relax. Maybe coming here was a good idea.

"Hey, Y/N," Mia says with a grin, "I'm glad you made it, how are you doing?" She asks, concerned, examining your face for an answer.

"I'm alright just still getting over the break up" you stutter with your words, "this will help me get my mind off it."

Mia smiles, taking your hand, leading you to everyone else.

After thirty minutes, you've had one drink of Truly, talked with your friends, and are now sitting on the log, drowning in your thoughts after hearing Lucas' name mentioned.

"Hey, are you okay?" a familiar voice inquired, jolting you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Rafe Cameron, a close family friend, staring at you with concern. 

Rafe Cameron has been one of your closest friends since middle school. You moved into the area a few houses down from Tannyhill.

You managed a feeble smile. "I'm fine," you lied.

Rafe lifted an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. "Come on, let's take a walk."

You followed him down the beach, the waves calming in the backdrop. Rafe came to a halt and turned to face you once you were a safe distance away from the flames. "What's going on?"

The dam had broken, and you found yourself telling him everything. About Lucas and Emily, about treachery and pain. Rafe listened quietly, his expression darkening with each word.

"That asshole," he mumbled when you finished. "I've never liked him." He does not deserve you.

You stared up at him, taken aback by the passion in his voice. "Rafe, it is not worth it. "He's not worth it."

He shook his head, his jaw tightened. "No one should be able hurt you without consequences. "He needs to learn a lesson."

"Rafe, please," you begged. "Violence won't solve anything."

He took a big breath, clearly attempting to relax himself. "You're right," he finally replied. "But it irritates me that he treated you like this. You deserve to be valued, not taken for granted.

"Thank you," you said quietly, taking some comfort from his words. "I just...I just need to move on from this."

"You will," Rafe replied firmly. "And I'll be here to assist you get through it. Always."

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[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 5

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x fem!reader)

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

The frantic knocking on your door made you jump out of bed. “Sukuna, what are you—is that blood?” The tall man moved past you. You rubbed your eyes and followed him to your bedroom, body warm and still delirious from sleep.

You tried to grab onto his arm to get him to look at you, but the man was swift with his movements, shuffling around the room in flashes of pink and red. His leather jacket hanging off of his lean and broad shoulders. “Sukuna, what’s wrong with your face? There’s blood everywhere.”

 “No time to answer. You still have my stuff, right?” You almost didn’t notice the duffle bag he was carrying. It seemed like he was going on a short trip. 

“Yeah, but what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

No answer. It was like he was in his own world, turning your closet-sized room into a hurricane while looking for his clothes. You felt like a lone tree standing within the storm, wavering with every gust of wind blowing through your branches. 

Sukuna hastily shoved in whatever was left of his things and finally turned to look at you. Eyes blank, face battered. “Let’s end this.” 

Your blood ran cold. Your roots were beginning to lift out of the ground. “What?” 

“Let’s break up. We haven’t seen each other for weeks anyway.” 

Your legs wobbled as you tried to navigate across the cobblestone, heels in hand, alcohol in your system. Everything was a blur after you ran away from the party. The last thing you remember is pushing Gojo’s smirking figure away while Sukuna calls you out. You couldn’t be near him. Not when he had been dangling a veil before you for so long. Underground fighter–when did he have the time to become one?

Seeking sanctuary in your old apartment was out of the question, considering that you had broken your lease to live with your ex/boss. So you decided to go to the next best place–the park next to Sukuna’s apartment complex, not near his space enough to be consumed by him but far away enough to comprehend the information you received. 

You ignored the sharp nips of the cold December wind against your bare arms. The park felt haunted. At least, in the summer, you could hear the loud chirps of cicadas and crickets, feeling like you had company even when alone. But now, you could only hear the eerie sway of the leafless trees. You had forgotten to pick up your coat in your flurry of emotions. You hugged yourself, trying not to cry over how miserable you felt. 

You thought being his girlfriend meant being important enough to know about his life's deep, intimate secrets, but apparently not. Not in his mind. Where your heart sought answers for his secretive behavior, there his mind pushed you further and further away. 

You were hoping it was all just a ploy to shield you from all the violence.

“Thank God, I thought Sukuna was finally going to experiment with his new punches on me,” a familiar voice said as you were enveloped in jacketed warmth. Yuuji plopped beside you on the bench you were sitting at and wrapped an arm around you. “I ran out from a party for you. What’s wrong?”

“Sukuna sent you after me?”

“Yeah, told me you ran away from the charity ball like some kind of Cinderella. I thought you’d be somewhere here since it’s so cold. Speaking of which, I should probably text him that you’re safe,” he answered as he pulled out his phone.

Conflicted. It’s all you’d been feeling since meeting him after so long. On one hand, you resented him for pushing you away with little to no explanation, and on the other, you felt warm with glee, knowing that he still intensely cared for you. It made you want to caress that oh-so-tense face of his. 

“I know you have many questions, and I can’t answer them all, but I will tell you one thing–these scars–” he points to the half-moon-shaped indents right beneath his bright eyes “–were caused by the people he was involved with in the past. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you.” 

Your heart clenched deep inside your chest. Yuuji was only in high school two years ago. Who could do such a thing to a young boy? There was a newfound respect for him in your heart. Not many could keep that childlike innocence in them after experiencing something so traumatic, but Yuuji seemed like he was just fine, even if it may only be on the surface. The only blade you touched was a scalpel during your internship at your local hospital, and you seemed more uneasy than him. 

You wrapped a shaky arm around his shoulder and patted it with a maternal glint in your eye. Heart aching for the poor boy. “I’m sorry you had to grow up so soon.” 

“I’m fine. I’ve made up countless stories about these scars. It’s a good conversation starter with strangers.” His light-hearted chuckle made you stroke his head. Yuuji was like your little brother, too. You had basically raised him along with Sukuna, and he had grown into a fine young man. Understanding and emotionally intelligent. 

“Sukuna… had been thinking about coming clean for a long time. There are many things that you need to know, but it’s not my place to tell you everything.” 

It was hard to imagine Sukuna, of all people, to be so tense. The man was usually aloof. At least his past self was. Never did you consider him to be so marred by his past. 

“I’m gone an hour, and you’re already making moves on her?” You turn around to see Sukuna, disheveled, smooth tuxedo jacket in hand. The first few buttons of his shirt went back to being undone like it was earlier that evening, and his bowtie was back into its initial satin-string-like form. His hair looked like it had been run through a hundred times, and his face looked worse for wear. A frantic man in the flesh.

He yanks Yuuji’s jacket off your shoulders and replaces it with his. “I’ll give you a fifty to leave us alone.” You have to squeeze your legs to comfort the growing tension between them. Men with deep voices–no, Sukuna’s haphazard state was your weakness.

“I would’ve done it for free, but thanks for the extra cash!” Yuuji snatches away Sukuna’s jacket and jogs up to Sukuna’s building with a little pep in his step. “Weird kid,” Sukuna mumbles as he sits next to you, the sides of his muscular thighs pressed against yours, being explicit about his feelings. “More like a sweet kid, Sukuna.”

“You always coddled him too much.” 

“Couldn’t help it.” 

The silence that followed felt like holding a bottle full of lightning, glass confining something magical yet destructive. The lines between boss and ex-lover were already blurred, but at this moment, they felt nonexistent. You both were staring at each other through a chained fence–only it was made from thin cotton threads and not metal. You could smell the fence burning, each fiber of the fabric withering away as the flames consumed it and spat out ash. It was getting close to you both. You could feel its heat already. 

You could feel it in the heat of his gaze as he turned your shoulders to face him. “Let me start from the beginning.” You took a deep breath to brace yourself. The knot in your stomach told you that it was not going to be easy to hear his story. 

“It all started when I was working out at a friend’s gym. He liked boxing from time to time, and he introduced me to a few boxing clubs where I could earn extra cash by fighting locals. Nothing too crazy, just amateur fights. It helped me let out some steam and earn a little extra for Yuuji’s college fund.” 

His big hands squeezed your shoulders. “During one of my fights, I didn’t know that I had very important people watching me–the Zenin family.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Zenin- you mean the family who owns Zenin Construction Group?” 

“Yeah, they’re into sports gambling a lot. Boxing is just one of the pools they like to dip their feet in. The CEO or dad, Naobito Zenin, approached me after my fight to box for his ‘league.’ Little did I know it was just a team of brawny men who fought to the death in a musty basement so he could earn hundreds of thousands under the table. We, of course, also got a percentage of that. Not a lot, but it was still good money. Enough to pay for Yuuji’s first year. I could not let that chance go.” 

You immediately grabbed his hands and moved them to your lap instead, holding them in place–a practice you had followed since the beginning of your relationship for some of the few times Sukuna was ready to drop his guard. 

“Things were going well. You didn’t suspect much since we were barely meeting in person, and I was saving up enough. Until–” Sukuna gulped as his fists clenched in your manicured hands. Veins and bones popping up and again, reminding you about his sheer monstrous strength. 

“I nearly killed someone,” he rasped out. “It was the most terrifying moment of my life. Had me thinking how far I was ready to go for money.” 

Your heart sank in your chest. Your mind reeled about how often Sukuna probably had to make difficult decisions while fighting and how often it affected him. All of a sudden, in front of you, was sitting your lover from two years ago. A little skinnier, with a little more affection visible in his eyes. “Naobito wasn’t happy when I told him I didn’t want to box again because of that, so he attacked Yuuji. I was afraid you were next, so I knew I had to run away. I had to keep Yuuji safe, at least until he left for college. I was lucky that Coach Yaga was watching my matches. He let us stay with him and trained me professionally so I could actually learn how to use my gift.” 

Your mouth was dry. What could a person say after being told that they were abandoned for their own safety? Every sensation of guilt enveloped you in that moment. “Sukuna, I’m so–”

“No. You will not apologize for the shit I did. All of that happened because of me. I don’t want you to blame yourself for hating me. I fucked up.”

“Can you stop? Do you even hear yourself right now? You did what you had to do to keep yourself afloat. I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come. I just–I don’t know how you did it all by yourself. You must’ve felt so alone.” You put a hand on his face, and he leaned his face into your cold palm like it was a visceral need. Your skin burned at the feeling of his lips. His large hands moved to your elbows and dragged them to your wrists. 

“You have no idea. Every second away from you was torture,” he said before kissing the center of your palm. “Felt like I made myself go through all that for nothing. After we broke up, I realized that I needed you to survive. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to live for besides my brother.”

The thrumming in your chest was dizzying. Your breath hitched as he placed both each of your wrists on either side of his neck. It was almost laughable how easily he lifted you off the bench and onto his strong and firm thighs. He took your lack of objection and blushing face as acceptance and pulled you closer by your neck. 

“Give me one more chance. I promise I won’t keep anything from you. I’ll be better. I want to be better,” he whispered in your ear, the puffs of his warm breath making you shiver, leading you to scoot closer to him automatically. Body basically flat against his. Rugged, muscular planes against your softness. You don't miss how he caresses the side of your thigh.

He pulls back, and you see something other than regret–want. Well, more like need.

You wordlessly trace the harsh black strokes on his face. His eyes close as your fingers get closer to his lips. “I’ve missed you too—more than you know,” you whisper, breath mingling with his deep one. 

And for a moment, everything seems to stop. You can’t hear the eerie swaying of the trees, nor can you hear the mindless crackles of random flyers in the park or the distant rumbling of cars on the street. All you could hear was your lover’s deep breaths. Your hand went down to his chest to feel his heartbeat. 

Fast. Just like yours. You didn’t want this moment to end.

Feeling impatient, Sukuna slots his lips against yours. At first, his lips move against yours like he’s unsure if what’s happening is real—praying that the woman on his lap is not just his fantasy. But then he soon grows confident as your hands move to his scalp and mess up his carefully styled hairdo. You began to come undone, as his lips began to kiss you harder. His hands move around your body like it was his last time touching you. In that moment, he mentally thanked the opponent who thrashed him to immobility, or else he wouldn’t be having this moment with you–pressed up and bothered against him. 

He reluctantly pulled away as you used your forearms to slot yourself against him, catching your breath. But that wasn’t enough for the man, so he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “It’s been way too long since we’ve done this. Let me hold you a while.”

—

taglist: @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife @missthatgirl @iluv-ace @emoedgylord @miakxn @sunasgf1 @lolilewenk @clp-84 @sodapop182 @therealjustpeachesback @msanimeotaku181 @aerareads @rebels-rewrite @emochosoluvr

[fruitjoos]

homesick

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you get homesick while moving into your college dorm and it’s all patrick zweig’s fault.

Patrick stood in the middle of your new dorm room, a box tucked under one arm and a screwdriver in his other hand. “Alright,” he said, letting the box drop onto your desk with a thud. “Bed’s set, desk is done, shelves aren’t gonna collapse. I think that’s everything.”

You nodded, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, your arms crossed like you weren’t sure what to do with them. The place was still too empty. The walls bare, boxes only half unpacked. It didn’t feel like home, and the thought of it ever being home felt impossible.

Patrick gave you a look as he wiped his hands on his jeans, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Babe, you’re gonna be fine, you know. You’ve got this.”

You swallowed hard, nodding again. “I know,” you said, but your voice wavered in a way you hadn’t meant it to.

He frowned, stepping closer. “Hey, are you—are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving him off, but your throat felt tight. You weren’t the kind of person to cry, not even in front of Patrick, and definitely not over something like this. But the thought of him leaving, it hit you harder than you’d expected.

“I mean, I’ll be back next weekend,” he said, trying to sound casual, like it wasn’t a big deal. But his voice softened, and his hands found your shoulders. “It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the earth.”

You looked down, blinking rapidly. “I know. It’s just... weird.”

“Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head like he was trying to figure you out.

“I’ve never done this without you,” you admitted, barely audible.

Patrick’s eyes widened a little, and for a second, he didn’t know what to say. “Hey,” he said finally, pulling you into a hug. “You’re not doing it without me. You’re just doing it with me a little further away. That’s all.”

You laughed weakly into his shoulder, holding onto him longer than you should’ve. When you pulled back, he smoothed a hand over your hair and gave you a soft smile. “You’re tougher than this place. And I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

But he was wrong.

The moment he left, the dorm felt impossibly empty. You tried distracting yourself—unpacking, wandering around campus, anything, but nothing worked. That night, lying alone in your twin XL bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the nights Patrick had held you in your room back home, his arm draped over you, the sound of his breathing steady against your back.

You hadn’t realized how much of a home he’d become to you until now, when you couldn’t reach out and find him there.

The week dragged by, every text and phone call from him a small comfort but not enough. When Saturday finally rolled around, you found yourself pacing your room, watching the clock like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

When you heard the knock on your door, you practically sprinted to answer it.

Patrick stood there, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a knowing grin on his face. “Miss me?”

You didn’t say anything, just threw your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

He laughed, his arms wrapping tightly around you. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you mumbled into his shirt.

He leaned back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I’m here now,” he said, his voice quiet but certain. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

That night, as you lay curled up in his arms on your tiny dorm bed, the homesick ache that had been gnawing at you all week finally disappeared. Because home wasn’t a place. It was him.

[grapejuice32]

Could Do Better

masterlist here Rafe x reader based off of this ask here

word count : 1.9k

summary: you and Rafe get in a fight about him not being around and you pull the "if I text JJ to come and fuck me then he will" card so he shows you that nobody can make you feel the way he can.

“You’re never here anymore, Rafe!” Your voice cracked as you spoke, your hands moving in the air in front of your chest, emphasising how you were feeling. 

But he only scoffed, “I’m never here?” As you began to nod, he laughed bitterly and repeated himself, “I’m never here?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, raising your brow to tell him to continue. “That’s rich comin’ from you. Y’know that, right?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?” You asked in disbelief.

“Oh, you know exactly what it means,” he taunted, leaning against the armrest of the couch. Despite the argument, you couldn’t help but admire the way that the yellow sunlight peeking through the windows highlighted his biceps as the muscles strained while he clenched his fists. 

Tilting your head to the side, you took a small step towards him, “No, I don’t think I do, actually. But please, do enlighten me.” Your voice was calm and steady, your lips pursed in a sarcastic smile. 

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent, alright? Y’know exactly what ‘m talkin’ about,” he pushed off from the couch, gesturing from himself to you by pressing his hands to his chest and then pointing them out at you, “always hangin’ out with those fuckin’ pogues ‘f yours.”

“Oh my god, how many times are we gonna go over this!” You ran a hand through your hair in exhaustion, bored of having the same fight all the time, “I am a pogue, Rafe! The fuck am I supposed to do, make new friends just cause I’m dating you?”

“Yes.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “If y’didn’t like my friends then I’d do the same damn thing.”

“I don’t like your friends, Rafe. I never have, you know that!” Only able to laugh in disbelief at what he was saying. “And you go to all those parties, let all those girls feel you up as if I’m not right fucking there!”

“Y’think I want them to feel me up? I only let them do it cause when you’re angry’s the only time y’fuckin’ talk to me!” he was slowly walking over to you as he raised his voice, his hands balled into fists as his side. 

You searched his face, turning your nose up at his words, “So what?”

“So what?” He repeated, his eyes wide and angry, “So what?” 

“Yeah,” your shrugged, “it’s no different to me letting guys hit on me so that you get jealous.”

He shook his head, backing you up against the wall, his breath hot as he looked down at you, ignoring the way you winced at how you hit your head against the wall. “An’ why the fuck would y’need t’do that, hm?” 

“Cause it’s the only time you fuck me properly,” you harshly and pointedly stated. The way his breath wavered was hard to miss, as he tried to place his hands on your hips you places your own on his chest and shoved him away from you. 

“Nobody makes y’feel the way I do,” he denied, not accepting your words as he tried to move closer to you again. But you kept evading him, the two of you moving around the room, every time he tried to step towards you, you’d tale two steps in the other direction. “You know that.” He nodded insistently, “Nobody makes y’feel as good as I do.” 

You just hummed, “What makes you so sure?” His eyes visibly darkened at your words, he’d never admit that he was somewhat insecure, especially considering that he wasn’t very experienced before you. 

“ ‘s true an’ y’fuckin’ know it.” He snapped, a large scowl taking over his face. Of course it was true, but you weren’t going to admit that, not if you still had room to get a rise out of him. 

“You’re never here, Rafe.” You repeated, speaking slowly, “You haven’t touched me properly in weeks.” You continued to speak slowly, emphasising your words more as you slowly made your way towards him, “How do you know that you can still make me feel the way you say?”

He ran his tongue over his teeth, inhaling sharply, “I’ve been busy.”

A bitter laugh left you, “Busy.” You repeated, nodding to yourself, “Busy with what? The girls at those parties, hm?” You took another step in his direction, “They been making you feel good? Is that why you haven’t touched me?”

His top lip curled up, nostrils flaring in anger, “Hey y-“

“You know that if I text JJ and ask him to come fuck me he will.” Your lips curled up in a smirk, pulling your phone out of your pocket and waving it in front of him. You saw the way his nails dug into his palms, the way he bit the inside of his cheek, his breathing growing significantly heavier. The tight shirt on he wore emphasised the way his chest rose and fell quickly, his built body clearly outlined by the fabric.

It was silent for a moment, the air still and heavy with tension, the both of you just stood there staring at each other. After him not reacting more to your words you licked your bottom lip and unlocked your phone and got ready to call JJ. It was then that Rafe finally acted, he grabbed your phone from your hands and threw it onto the couch before grabbing your waist and backing you against the nearest wall. The room was silent apart from both of your heavy breathing, your lips parted, and head tilted up so you could look at him clearly. You opened your mouth, about to speak, only to be interrupted by him leaning down and firmly pressing his lips to yours. 

He took both of your wrists in one of his large hands, his ring pressing into your skin, his grip tight. His other hand trailed down from your waist to the back of your knee, grabbing your leg and lifting it to hook over his hips. His hand slid up your thigh, slipping under your skirt, his eyes fixed on your every reaction as he touched you. 

Before you knew it, he’d pushed your underwear to the side and was rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself from outwardly reacting too much, not wanting to give in, not just yet. Rafe of course saw through your act, of course he did. He knew your body better than he knew himself, but he would play along with your game for a little longer if that’s what you wanted.

“What? ‘s this not good enough f’you, hm?” he asked in a low whisper, his lips brushing your ear.

You cleared your throat, trying not to let your eyes flutter shut like they wanted to, “Not even close.” You let out through gritted teeth, your voice strained.

“ ‘s that so?” He asked, taking your earlobe between his teeth, you pressed your lips together and nodded.

“Mhm,” a long, shaky breath escaped you and then you continued, trying to play it off, “JJ would have me ready to cum by now.”

Rafe only scoffed, your lie so plainly obvious to him. He knew how much you were enjoying this. It was clear to him in the way your brows pulled together, your eyes were squinted and the way your bottom lip was swollen from how hard you’d been digging your teeth into it. “Y’such a fuckin’ liar.” He mumbled, pulling away from your ear to watch your reaction properly as he slipped his fingers inside you, your walls instantly fluttering around him. 

“Rafe-” 

“Yeah, ‘s what I thought.” He said, his face leaning away from yours as he looked down at you smugly, his lips parted as he watched you fall apart pathetically. You tried to lean in for a kiss, but he only pulled his head back, leaving you to chase his lips desperately, only giving up when his palm brushed against your clit, your head pressing against his chest. 

You were rolling your hips into his palm as his fingers moved steadily, one of your hands gripping his wrist, the other tightly gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. His finger threaded into your hair, and he pulled your face away from his chest, tilting your head back so you were looking up at him. “Want y’eyes on me when I make y’cum. Understand?”

You nodded, but quickly went back on your agreement when he curled his fingers, digging the heel of his palm harshly into your clit, causing your eyes to squeeze shut and your mouth to fall open as you cried out. Suddenly he let go of your hair and lightly slapped you on the cheek before taking your face in his large hand, your cheeks squishing together. “I said, do you understand?”

“Rafe pleas-“

“Hm?” He hummed condescendingly, “Don’t wanna have’t repeat myself.”

“Yes.” You whispered, bucking your hips up into his hand, trying to get him to start moving his hand again.

But his lips only curled up, “Yes what?”

“Yes Rafe, I understand.” The words left you in long breath, the sigh becoming a moan as he started moving his fingers again. Your hand slipped off of his chest, the other still gripping his wrist, and gripped his bicep, your nails digging into his skin. “Shit, Rafe, please.” You panted, trying your best to keep your eyes open as you grew close. He’d let go of your face to cup the back of your neck, your leg having fallen off of his hip while you fought to keep your eyes on him, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in his chest. “I’m so close.” You mumbled, lips parted as soft moans left you.

“I know, baby.” He nodded, continuing his ministrations, gripping the back of your neck tighter. 

“Shit, Rafe I need to-” you began, but you cut yourself off with a whine of frustration as he completely stopped moving his hand. “But I was about to-”

Instead he cut you off, pulling his fingers out of you, “Y’wanna cum so bad, why don’t you go call JJ, hm?”

“But he can’t-” You huffed in frustration.

“What? Can’t make you feel as good as me, hm?” He smiled smugly. You were only able to nod, not even able to argue, too desperate for him to get you off. “Yeah? Well maybe y’should’ve thought ‘bout that before y’opened y’mouth, yeah?” 

“Rafe, please.” You begged pathetically, your eyes stuck on his as you tried to pull some sympathy from him. 

“Nah,” he shook his head, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “C’mon, thought y’wanted me t’touch you.”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as if his fingers hadn’t just been inside of you as you parted your lips to take his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them gently, looking up at him hopefully. When he pulled his fingers out, you thought he was going to give you what you wanted but instead he just let go of you all together. A noise of exasperation and confusion left you.

“Thanks f’cleanin’ me up, baby.” He chuckled, walking towards the door to leave the room. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t leaving the house, yet again. 

“Goin’ upstairs. Y’comin?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and raising one of his eyebrows, and turned around, not waiting to see your answer, knowing what it would be. You instantly nodded, trailing after him as he went to your shared bedroom as you bit your lip excitedly. Your phone long forgotten in the living room, the both of you oblivious to the fact that you had actually called JJ, and that he had in fact answered, and that he’d heard everything.

[cece693]

We Belong Together (DARK! Steve Rogers x M! Reader)

Just something that came to mind and couldn't help but write it. Please tell me if you like this style of writing more or prefer my original one. Thanx for reading!

Summary: Dating Steve Rogers was more difficult than you'd imagined. He was a man riddled with insecurities and, unfortunately, this affected your relationship.

tags: dark Steve Rogers, manipulation, the Avengers are no help, toxic relationship, not Steve friendly, gaslighting, no happy ending and ambiguous ending

Your relationship with Steve was rocky, to say the least. And you know it sounded stupid because you're dating Captain America, the epitope of male perfection and respect, but you weren't dating him. You were dating Steve Rogers, the man who was always beaten to a pulp behind alleyways before the serum took over. The man who did everything to fit in, but was neglected due to his health problems and scrawny appearance. And in a way, you sympathized with Steve—he was still the boy seeking acceptance from everyone, and you, who he'd let into his heart after the whole Peggy fiasco, couldn't desert him. But there was a line between what you would label as love and obsession.

It would be fine if Steve wanted to spend each weekend lazing about in bed, arms wrapped around you, not wanting to let you even use the bathroom, but it was another story if he had your location turned on and was texting you hurtful messages implying infidelity. You'd let it pass one time, but when it became a routine, and Steve became more suffocating to be around, you realized you'd fucked up. No breakup was easy, but when you're doing it to Steve Rogers, a man who was known for his determination and unwillingness to change his mind, it would be near impossible.

With his job as a full-time Avenger, there was never a good time for you to sit down and talk to Steve. He was either tired or stressed, with the latter making you squeamish to even interact with. No Steve was pleasant to deal with, as of late, but a stressed Steve was walking into enemy ground. If the damage to the punching bags was any indication. However, it seems whatever God above favored you when your boyfriend announced he'd asked for a week off to spend it with you. His smile was genuine, but you noted the strange twinkle in his eyes when he casually noted that it would be your anniversary.

"Who knows what surprise I have in store for you." He said, but those words, said with so much innocence had you fretting. You hated to do it, but it seemed you'd be breaking up with him before his plan could come to fruition.

"Steve, about that..." You trailed off, looking away from him to gain courage, but found none. "I don't think we're working out. I want to break up." There, you said internally, just like ripping off a bandaid. You risked looking up at Steve and instantly regretted it. He had a look of silent fury and violence??? but then it washed over with indifference. You expected yelling, even begging, but silence stung more. "I'm sorry, but I..." How would you broach the topic of his toxicity without sounding like a total asshole?

"Is there someone else?" Steve interrupted, quite rudely. He tilted his head, mind racing with every person who'd ever interacted with you. Who had convoluted your mind into breaking up with him? If there was another man, Steve would make them regret their existence. Taking what wasn't theirs to begin with. "Is it Thomas? I knew he wasn't just a friend."

"No!" You shouted, hurt by the implication. Thomas was a co-worker who you befriended—he was like a brother to you, nothing more, nothing less. "This is part of the problem, Steve. You think I always cheat, making me feel stupid for overreacting to your jealousy when it's unhealthy as hell."

"But you always seem so close to everyone else." Your ex replied, his voice wavering between anger and insecurity. "How am I supposed to feel when I see you laughing and talking with Thomas like that?"

You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "How are you supposed to feel?! You're supposed to trust me, Steve! You're supposed to know that if I'm with you, it's because I chose you. But you keep pushing me away with all this suspicion. It's exhausting."

Steve clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "I only act this way because I care about you, because I don't want to lose you. You know how much I love you. If I didn't care so much, I wouldn't be jealous." He knew it was a stupid reason, but Steve was desperate. He wouldn't lose you over something he had no control over. Didn't you know how handsome, pretty, and unique you truly were? Didn't you see the hungry stares people throw your way? It was Steve's duty as a boyfriend to show them you were taken; his completely.

"That's another thing, Steve! You alienating me from my friends and co-workers."

Steve's face twisted in frustration. "So, what? I should just sit back and let whomever get close to you?"

"I can't control everyone's actions, Steve! Don't try to guilt trip me into thinking your behavior is normal...it isn't. Your reaction just reaffirms my decision." Not wanting to face your ex any longer, you stood up from the table and headed to the door. After all, this was Steve's apartment, and as much as he tried to encourage you to move in, right now you were grateful you stood your ground. But not even before your hand touched the doorknob, Steve's whimpers sounded behind you.

Steve panicked seeing you near the door. You had to understand—he never meant to make you angry, he just loves you so much that perhaps his behavior did come off as overbearing. But this was for your own good, Steve thought, you were too naive, too trusting of people who would only take advantage of you. With tears in his eyes, Steve began to whimper and make himself look half his size. "I'm sorry. I'll change, I promise, but please don't leave me. I love you."

It irked Steve that you didn't face him, but when he saw you pause, his heart rejoiced. Just for it to quickly fall again when you did open the door and told him you couldn't do this anymore. Unable to do anything as you finally closed the door, leaving him alone, Steve's anger made an appearance. Grabbing the closest thing to him, he flung it to the wall and continued to do so until every single item in his living room lay in thousands of tiny little pieces.

You're acting irrationally, Steve told himself. You'll soon come to realize the grave mistake you are making. I'm the only one who could protect and love you. I'll give you space to calm down, and then, perhaps you can understand me.

A week had passed since you'd broken up with Steve, and the man wasn't taking the news well. He believed you would've crumbled and ran back into his arms once the day ended, but when you hadn't called, much less answered his messages, the man grew furious. How dare you block his number and change the locks on your door? Did you have a visitor over, taking advantage of his absence to fuck whomever you desired? Didn't he mean anything to you? The week's absence had made Steve spiral out of control.

The reasonable part of him told him to move on, respect your wishes, and cease contact, but this was you. You weren't replaceable to Steve, oh no, he would make you stand by his side until death do part. Didn't you see you guys were meant to be? It also probably didn't help that the Avengers took his side and began feeding into Steve's delusions.

"I don't get it, man. You treat him right and love him unconditionally. How could he break your heart?" Was Tony's response once he heard of your relationship status. "He's dumb to break things off. I can only hope my relationship with Pepper is as strong as yours." Yeah, Tony wasn't really a help in calming Steve down.

Meanwhile, you were picking up the pieces of your life. Reconnecting with friends Steve had frightened off and taking a much-needed vacation from New York. You couldn't escape Steve when he was a public image—Captain America basically ruled over New York and had a place in people's hearts.

Sitting down at the little cabin you rented for the month, you sipped on your coffee and rethought your plans. Initially, you wanted to just start anew in New York, forget about Steve, and continue living your life, but that was thrown out the window. You could sense eyes wherever you went after breaking things off with Steve, and you might be crazy for saying such a thing, but you knew Steve. Knew he would pull strings to keep in contact and have an eye on you.

It also wasn't unreasonable to make such a connection when Steve was the leader of the Avengers—a team of superheroes with varying skills and resources. So your original plan of staying turned into you seeking residence as far away from the U.S. as possible. Yet, when you believe you've found the perfect place, something gets in the way—your bank is unable to transfer funds, the listing immediately reads as sold, the realtor not answering your calls. Every hindrance only makes you come to the same conclusion—Steve.

Yelling when the mug shattered in your hand, hot coffee burning your skin, you realized you weren’t alone. The front door of the cabin was closed, but standing next to it was Steve. The nearby lamp cast a dim, flickering light over his figure, highlighting his state of disarray. His once clean-cut appearance was gone, replaced by stubble, messy hair, and a simple t-shirt with jeans that looked like they’d been slept in. "Get out." You hissed, but the man only stepped closer, frightening you. "Get out! I don't want anything to do with you."

"I tried to be nice, and give you space, but nothing works." Steve said, ignoring your wishes as he advanced toward you. For every step he took, you stepped back twice. You couldn't help but fear for your safety when Steve disregarded your wishes and had this glint of madness in his eyes. "I need you. Can't you see that?"

Your back hit the wall, trapping you as Steve loomed closer. You never took your eyes off him, every nerve in your body screaming for you to escape, but there was nowhere left to go. "Steve, please." you begged, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. "You're scaring me. This isn't love."

Steve’s hand reached out, brushing against your cheek in a gesture that once might have been tender, but now only filled you with dread. "You’ll see, in time. You’ll remember how good we were together. You just need to stop fighting it."

Before you could react, Steve's hand shot out, gripping your chin with a force that made you wince. In a flash, he pulled you closer and crushed his lips against yours, his kiss bruising and possessive. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but his arms were too strong, locking you in place as he held you tightly.

Your mind raced, panic surging through you as you fought to break free. This was not the man you once cared for; this was someone consumed by a twisted obsession, willing to do anything to keep you. Tears welled in your eyes as you clawed at his arms, desperate for air, desperate to escape.

[gojos-fr-bae]

Stood up

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Cursing

Three hours.

You waited at that damn restaurant for three excruciating hours receiving a pitiful look from the waitress and you just couldn't handle it anymore.

Your precious boyfriend had let you sit there and feel embarrassment flood you every time you caught someone staring at you before whispering to their date.

He couldn't even bother bother to text or call nor reply to your texts or answer your calls. And as if this all isn't bad enough this wasn't the first but fourth time that month and you couldn't take it anymore.

It's been so long you two spent time together. He always arrived home when you were already asleep and left before you could wake. You were the only one even tying to keep you two together and you were so, so exhausted. You couldn't keep giving your everything to someone and receiving nothing in return, after all you're only human.

And so, driven by pain, you ignored your tears and painful sobs escaping your chest as you packed all your belongings and wrote one last letter to your soon to be former lover.

It hurt you so much to leave knowing you may never love anyone the way you love him, but you had to do this for your own sake and if that meant walking out that front door and not turning back then so be it.

~

It had been a week since you left the house you shared with the love of your life and you had received nothing but silence from his end, and yet today you woke up to 45 missed calls and so many messages from the bastard but you couldn't bring yourself to open them. You knew that if you listened to even one of the voicemails he left your resolve would crumble considering the texts you also received from his students begging you to speak to him and talking about how much of a mess he is.

You were scrolling through their messages when you barely heard the gentle knocking on the door over the rain outside. You had been staying at your friend's that night and as far as you were aware she was spending the night at her boyfriend's so you had no idea who'd be at the door.

You got up, groaning from the headache your crying had caused and began walking towards the door. You opened the door, breath catching at seeing Gojo standing on the other side of the door. He looked up at you and his eyes began tearing up. They were swollen, red and had bags, his cheeks sunken in slightly. It felt like a dagger was jabbed into your heart and was being twisted. You couldn't bare to see him looking so broken.

"H-hi" he whispered, looking at his feet and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt so that you don't see him breaking or hear how his voice cracks.

"Hi"

"May I- umm, may I c-co-come in?" this time you heard how his voice wavered."

"Goj-"

"Please, d-don't call me that"

"Come in" You said, finally noticing how much he was shivering, his hair and clothes soaked.

"Satoru, did you, walk here?"

"Walk, stand outside the building trying to gain the confidence to enter what's the difference?"

"Oh no, I'm so sorry let me get you some spare clothes, I hope I have something that can fit-"

"No no, that won't be necessary I don't plan on staying long."

"Well in that case uhm... how can I help you?"

There was a heavy silence between you two as you stood in the doorway, waiting for him to respond.

"P-please" he croaked, tears beginning to fall down his face, "Please take me back"

"Satoru don't-"

"I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a pathetic and useless boyfriend and It's completely my fault that we split up because I stood you up and hurt you and I know I don't deserve to be forgiven but I'm begging sugar cube please, I can't live without you"

"Satoru you constantly disregarded me and our relationship. You never spoke to me, constantly stood me up and never even bothered to apologise ONCE, It's like you never even loved me in the first place!" You shouted, feeling your tears begin to blur your vision.

"I know and I'm sorry! I feel like and absolute piece of shit but I LOVE YOU Y/N! I love you so much it hurts, I love you so much I almost have a heart attack whenever you smile! And I love you because you are the only one who ever made me feel like that, only one who ever told me that I would be ok who ever held me when I cried, no one else but you!"

"Even if you do I can't keep carrying this relationship alone Satoru! I can't be at peace unless I leave"

"BUT YOU PROMISED!! YOU PROMISED NEVER TO ABANDON ME! PROMISED TO NEVER BREAK MY HEART AND I BELIEVED YOU! I STILL DO SO PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!" You were both sobbing now.

"Satoru, even if I said yes, I know I would never be your first priori-"

"I quit!" He pressed out quickly, looking up to meet your eyes and lacing your hands in his.

"Wh-what"

"I quit at Jujutsu tech immediately after reading your letter a-and I realised that you were right. You were right about everything! I had neglected and mistreated you so much when you deserved none of it and I'm sorry."

You were stunned. flabbergasted even. You knew how important Gojo was to the Jujutsu world and so did he. You were pretty sure that the world would fall into chaos, he was the only person keeping things in balance. And he quit...for you"

"Satoru-"

"Before you say anything, don't worry about money. I already have tons and once I'm head of the clan it practically doubles so I can spoil you the way you deserve to be"

"Goj-"

"And I promise I'll work harder to make you happy. I know I really don't deserve it because I'm a worthless piece of-"

"SATORU GOJO WILL YOU LET ME SPEAK!"

"Yes ma'am" he said, almost in a whisper.

"Did you really quit for me?"

"Yes"

"Do you really love me? "

"More than breathing"

"And are you really going to change?"

"Anything for you"

"Then if we give this one more shot things will really be different?"

"Yes"

"Okay, then let's do it, I mean what's the worst that could happen?"

His face lit up up before he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"Thank you so much, I love you"

"I love you more sweetheart"

"Eh, doubt it"

Yay

© gojos-fr-bae

[darlingstarkey]

think later - pt 20

series masterlist

summary - y/n, formerly a pogue princess, finally had her big breakthrough and got signed to a record label in LA. little did she, her boyfriend rafe cameron and the rest of her friends know how things would really change as soon as she becomes famous.

anything in dark mode is rafe's phone!

authors note: i really enjoyed writing/doing this part and getting back into the swing of writing this fic!! a few of my old readers are inactive and it makes me so sad to see my bbys gone but thank you to the new readers who are reading now! lowkey a three week break is insane of me lol

warnings: swearing, anger, fighting, stealing, long word fic!

-

with that text from topper, rafe stood from the couch and grabbed the keys to his ferrari. all he saw was red in this moment, what the fuck could jj possibly do to try to get you? he gave his truce to this crush he had on you when rafe had texted him about you. what the fuck could he possibly want? would he be able to get you? thousands of questions ran through rafes head as he practically ran to his car and got into it as quickly as possible.

the engine roar echoed throughout the neighborhood along with the sound of tires screeching, signaling rafe's departure.

white knuckling the wheel, going a steady 65 mph in a 25 mph, rafe sped past the neighborhood in mere seconds. he sped through the bridge that connected figure eight and the cut, almost nauseous at the thought of being here. sure, he had been down this road multiple times back when he would pick you up or bring you flowers. but this time, it was different.

this time it was to track down that pogue boy who always preyed over you. who always took your kindness and in his mind would twist it into something more. but of course, you being you, you let him do it because you simply didn't know he felt that way. but there was no way to know, the only person who did know was jj himself and rafe.

he always had.

rafe was close enough to see jj's stolen glances at your perfect lips, the soft grazes of the back of your arm, how he would hold onto your hand just a second too long when you did your handshake that was made up by the 5 year old versions of yourselves, the way jj made you laugh so hard you snorted, your inside jokes, your secret code words and signals, the way you two could just make eye contact and just know what the other was thinking.

rafe knew he couldn't compare to that.

"no. no. no.no. no. no." you yelped as you scurried between the two boys. rafe has already had his hand planted on jj's shoulder, a dark look in his eye as he stared at the pogue boy while gripping his boney shoulder sharply.

"guys. get away from eachother. now." you demanded as the boys continued their feral eye-contact. the silence is deafening as they stood, still as statues, while you try to break them apart.

"y/n, step away." rafe said between gritted teeth. "no!" you shot back,heat racing. . "leave eachother alone. god, what is with you two lately? can you just fucking stop for once and listen to me?"

for the first time, they both blinked. simultaneously, they looked down at you as you fumbled for your phone, which would not stop buzzing in your pocket.

"i-i- have to go.." your voice wavered you look up at the two boys, only to quickly turn and jolt instinctively back to your car.

rafe and jj could have sworn that you disappeared into thin air. they had never seen anything like it. they had seen your face turn white, immediately squeak words of utter nonsense, then bolt away.

confused and also terrified, the two boys were left standing there, a truce in their war for your devotion.

-

HOW AMAZINGLY FUN THIS WAS TO WRITE! next part tmrrw! do we like?!

taglist: taglist: @madkohi, @yesshewrites1, @grapejuice32, @leotapes , @givemylovetoall, @inlovewrafe, @bee-43, @larvalerius, @masongetinmybed, @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not, @mystargirl-interlude, @eddxemxnson, @sqfewrd, @pogueprincesa, @frankoceanluvr11, @raeven-marie43, @marleymarleymarleymarley, @mindfulmesses, @akobx, @spenceatiny18, @fluoxetinys, @lolxdswag123, @st8rkey, @ethanthequeefqueen, @drewrry, @jjmaybankmylovee, @disaster-rose, @sunshinedaisy21, @chillgal135, @amterasuu, @wtfisastiles, @sassyvillaintrophy, @bananaminn, @barnesboo1967, @pi4st81, @stvrkeysgal, @yktayy9669, @yesterdaysproblemm, @rafesbuzzcutseason, @dylsdaily, @jjasmiineee, @imjustagirl713, @voidangxls

xo, dylan