#THAT KILLED ME. GOT ME RIGHT IN THE HEART. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pboogerswbb · 1 day ago

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TOO LOST IN YOU - part IV

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III

Warnings: smut and i mean FILTHY OK, toxic!paige, kinda cheating, language, etc.

Wordcount: 7.4k (sorry but there's smut ok)

A/N: TY for being so patient with me, i've been feeling sick but slowly getting better and finally got this done. finally some fluff for y'all. also please leave feedback/live reactions I LOVE THAT SHIT! ok enjoy guys mwah <3

“You’re joking, right Paige?” A frustrated voice comes through the speaker as I lean back on the couch, spreading my legs to find a more comfortable position. The game of fortnite me, Aubrey and Ice had been planning on for like a week was turned down, not wanting the phone’s mic picking up the sounds.

“‘M afraid not,” I mumble into the phone, biting my lower lip in concentration. I was so close to getting a kill if I could just finally hang up, but here I still was, fifteen minutes of going back and forth on some topic that didn’t need all this drama with a girl whose last name I’d forgotten.

“But it’s my birthday,” Clara whines into my ear. Watching my character get killed, I groan and tilt my head back, throwing the controller onto my grey sweats.

“I know, baby. Look we can do a lil something next week, lemme make it up to you,” I say into the phone, needing to get this girl to get off my ass. “I promise.” I didn’t mean that though, it was just empty words.

Truth was I just needed some time, after what happened the other night with Valerie I had felt my thoughts chipping away at me. The things running through my head had made sleeping impossible and practice even worse. The lack of control I felt when she was around me was terrifying. I needed a night just with my girls, badly.

I felt tense, distracted.

“Clara, whatchu want me to do? it's an emergency.”

To get away from Clara’s plans for the night Aubrey and Ice had helped me to come up with an elaborate lie about me “pulling a muscle in my wrist and it needed resting”. I hadn’t found it as believable but for Clara it worked.

The girl’s soft sigh comes through the phone. “Fine, ok. But you gotta make it up to me.”

“I will I will,” I mumble, unaware of what I’m really saying, stuffing my mouth with a fistful of popcorn from a bowl on the couch. Sitting cross legged on the floor, Ice lets out a loud laugh, quickly covering her mouth as I give her a scolding look, pointing to the phone. Thankfully Clara doesn’t hear a thing.

As the new game begins I quickly grab the controller from my grey sweats, I needed to wrap up this call quick.

“I wish you’d let me come take ca-”

“Gotta go Clara, happy birthday,” I yell hurriedly into the phone before Clara could even finish, hanging up the phone and throwing it onto the couch which makes Aubrey and Ice snicker.

“Bro you suck at this game!” I yell at Aubrey who looks at me offended.

“Nah, that wasn’t my fault!! It was Ice!!” she scoffs.

The ringing of my phone interrupts the conversation. Before I can pick it up, or even complain about Clara getting clingy, the sound stops. Not to sound too cocky or like a piece of shit but if it was one of the girls on my roster, that ringing wouldn’t have stopped for a minute. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the power I had over some of these chicks, how they stayed up till 4am just to see if I called them up. They didn’t need to let me know it’s what they did, I knew all too well.

I grab my phone and quickly unlock it. With wide eyes and heart fluttering, I dial back.

“Paige I thought we were gonna have a girls’ night,” Aubrey groans but my finger comes up to shush her when I hear a soft voice come through the phone.

“Hey?”

“Valerie?” I ask, I can barely hear her from the loud traffic nearly burying the sound of her voice.

“Wh- why are you callin’ me?” she asks, her words are slurred enough to let me know she’s drunk. Even so, hearing her sweet voice might as well have been a choir of angels singing.

“You called me, mama,” I chuckle softly, walking away from the girls to hear better.

There’s a moment of silence between us as I slide into my own dorm room, closing the door behind me, leaning against it.

“Oh… uh I was trying to call Paige,” she murmurs and loudly gasps. I can hear her slapping her own mouth and a cocky smirk grows on my face. “JAY, JAY I WAS. I was trying to call Jay.”

The bite on my lower lip stuffles the laugh I let out. Honestly, it made me feel a little smug knowing she said my name instead of hers. I wonder if I was really on her mind that much. It had been quite a long time since I had wondered anything like that.

“Ohh right… Justine,” I joke, the name making me giggle each time. This time, Valerie giggles too.

“Don’t make fun P.”

“Alright alright,” I chuckle walking over to my bed and sitting down on it, pulling down my sweats a little so my boxers peak out. Faint screaming in the background of the call reminds me of why Val called in the first place - she’s drunk. “Woah, where you at Val?”

A deep sigh comes through the phone. “I dunno where my friends went, they were my rideee,” she whines, the sound of the cars making it hard to hear her. I lean forward resting my elbow on the knees.

“Did you call ‘em?” I ask, concerned over how drunk she was. How could her friends just dip? I’m gonna need to have a word with them.

“I’m nodding,” she slurs out and groans frustratedly. “Such a long way to walk,” Valerie whines again.

I’m already reaching for my keys when the words come out of my mouth. “Drop your location Val.”

She groans. “I’m walking by the highway.”

“You’re WHAT?” I yell into the phone, throwing on a puffer vest over my grey sweatshirt, struggling to get my shoes on. This girl was gonna get herself killed I swear.

“Relaaxxx.”

“Sit down and drop your location, I’m comin to get you ma.”

“Paige you’re so dr-”

“Sit your ass down. I’m so forreal now Valerie.” I command, without even waving a careless bye to the girls as I rush out, the plans for a girl’s night quickly forgotten. After a whine and a sigh from the drunk girl on the line I hear her set herself onto the ground.

“Fine,” her voice murmurs and I sigh in relief.

All of the fury I felt at her for being so careless goes away when I see her, in boots and a leather jacket thrown carelessly over her skimpy dress, sitting on the ground playing with the ends of her golden brown hair. I pull the car over, quickly rushing to her. How could her friends leave her in a state like that? From now on I should watch over her all the time, just to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.

Nevermind her friends, how could Jay let this happen? If Valerie was my girl she would not be alone like this, yet alone going out without me at all. She needs someone who takes care of her, who truly cherishes every single thing about her.

“Paigeyyy,” she smiles as I reach down and pick her up, her hair was a mess and eyes bloodshot and tired. There’s a strong smell of alcohol as Valerie wraps her arms around me, but I don’t mind. I wanted to be mad at her for being so irresponsible, for making me come get her. But I couldn’t be.

I grin as I help steady her. Anyone could notice she’s gleaming looking up at me. Usually that would make my chest tighten, make me feel sick and claustrophobic. Now, for some reason, I felt like gleaming too.

“C’mon silly girl, before you get in more trouble,” I murmur, opening the door and making sure she gets in the car, helping her with the seatbelt.

“I got it Paige,” she laughs as I reach over her lap, grabbing the belt but I slap her hand away gently, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle the way I wanted to smile, the butterflies growing inside me.

“Lemme do it ma,” I tell her hoarsely. She’s grinning at me stupidly as I buckle her in, my fingers running along her neck to fix the belt. When our eyes meet just for a moment, it takes every bit of my self discipline not to kiss her, the way her tongue slides over her lips enticingly.

The drive back is quiet, soft R&B the only sound filling the car. I hum along to the songs, tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Valerie watches as she rests her head against the seat. An involuntary smirk takes over my face, my eyes flicking from her to the road to my speed. I was driving much more carefully than usual, I had something precious to take home.

“You admirin’ the view?” I tease earning a lighthearted scoff from Valerie.

“No I’m… thinking,” she explains slowly, moving her eyes to the road too. Suddenly she wasn’t so giggly, but seemed to be sobering up.

“I got some water in the back if you need,” I tell her, already reaching for it, other hand on the wheel as I lean back on the driver’s seat.

She reaches for it with me, our fingertips brushing against each other as I hand it over. “Thanks,” she murmurs and takes a few big gulps.

Valerie’s shoulders slump as she takes a deep sigh, I know her well enough that something was clearly on her mind.

“I lied P,” she says, her voice small. For a moment a wave of confusion washes over me, and I look at her expectantly. My first assumption is she’s talking about what happened between us in the bathroom, about how she hadn’t told Jay about it.

“‘S okay Justine don’t have to know,” I quickly console but Valerie is shaking her head.

“No I meant… Fuck, I mean I did mean to call you,” she let’s out, frustrated. “It wasn’t an accident.”

I swallow, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. Was I… blushing? I must be more whipped than I realised.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my tone a little too needy for my liking - I didn’t want her to think, no, to know I cared. That it mattered to me. Valerie could never know how I felt. I would just end up fucking everything up, at least now I had basketball. That’s enough.

“I just… I dunno I don’t wanna go to my dorm,” Valerie sighs, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.

“Why’s that?”

“Jay’s waiting for me,” Valerie says with a slight shake in her voice.

Oh.

At first I’d been more jealous than I’d like to admit, the idea of Valerie, my Valerie, with someone else made me sick. But running into them at that party I knew Justine could never do what I could. But most importantly, Valerie didn’t shine the way she did with me with Justine. I had an inkling there was nothing to be jealous of, and got my confirmation in the bathroom. But now, I only felt more validated. She didn’t even want to be around her. She drunk called me, not her.

“‘S that why you got so fucked up? Because of Jay?” I try to sound nonchalant, like I didn’t care. But I needed to know for sure. I needed to know I wasn’t delusional in thinking she couldn’t just move on from me, from us.

“Something like that,” she chuckles and shifts in the seat, sipping her water still. Without thinking it through, what it might mean, what it says about my feelings, the words slip out.

“I can take you to mine,” I suggest, knowing full well my biggest rule was not letting girls sleep over. I guess my rules had gone way out the window with Valerie.

She scoffs and shakes her head, my heart aching at her disapproval. “No P, it can’t happen anymore, I mean it this time.”

A scoff leaves my mouth as I pull up to the campus parking lot.

“I didn’t mean that dumbass, I mean just to sleep,” I groan, parking my jeep. “I’ll even sleep on the floor.”

Valerie looks at me wide eyed and dumbfounded. Guess I wasn’t coming off as nonchalant as I’d have liked. I felt a strange feeling grow inside me that I could only call nervousness. It had been a while since a girl had made me feel anything even close to it.

“Okay,” Val nods and a wave of relief takes over me - I didn’t want her to go yet. Being with her felt good.

“Okay,” I repeat watching her start getting out of the car. I do the same and we head towards my dorm. Without thinking about it much, my hand wraps around her waist, whether to hold her up or to touch her I’m not sure.

Jana and Allie are in the kitchen talking, their heads peeking out when we come in the door. Meeting their gazes I realise I have never introduced a girl to my teammates.

“Yo, uh, this is Valerie,” I say a little awkwardly, the new situation making me unsure of how to act. Allie and Jana share a look that I pray the drunk brunette clinging to my arm didn’t notice. Looking down I see she’s too busy struggling getting her shoes off. Without thinking about it, I kneel down and my fingers unbuckle the strappy heeled sandals she was wearing, my touch on her skin tender and careful.

“Hey girl,” Jana says intrigued, waving her hand at us. As Valerie nearly trips, she lets out a loud giggle, my hand gripping her thigh, steadying her.

“Whoa there,” I chuckle, standing up from the ground as the brunette slaps her face with her hand, bashfully.

“I’m sorry I make a much better first impression when I’m not drunk,” her sweet voice lets out and somewhere deep down I feel my heart flutter at the idea of her wanting to make a good impression on my friends. Jana and Allie both let out friendly laughs as I guide Valerie towards my room.

“She’s gonna sleep here tonight, that cool?” I ask as we pass my roomies, who are both nodding but clearly shocked at the prospect of me letting a girl sleep over.

I bring the brunette to my room by her hips, closing the door behind us as she throws herself face first onto my purple sheets. She looked good like that, in my room, on my bed, burying her nose into my blanket. For a fleeting moment I let myself dream of an alternate universe where she could be here waiting for me, all the time. Only for a moment though.

“C’mon ma let’s get you ready for bed,” I suggest softly, walking to the bed. She groans and flips onto her back, my eyes flickering to her upper thighs where her dress had hiked up. A sudden need to touch her comes over me, but I push it away. It wouldn’t be right like this.

“But your bed’s so comfyyy,” Valerie lets out a whine as she stretches, her pretty eyes fluttering shut. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face, my heart aching at how cute she looked like this - drunk and tired, mascara flaking underneath her eyes and a small pout on her lips.

Throwing her a navy blue Uconn shirt to sleep in is finally enough to get her to sit back up, her eyelids half closed as her hands start pulling her dress down.

With wide eyes I quickly turn my back to her, staring at the wall. As much as I wanted to, it didn't feel right to watch her change. Valerie only giggles, and I hear her stand up and shimmy out of her clothes, my mouth growing dry from the filthy thoughts in my head right now, the way she was completely bare behind me.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before P,” she says teasingly and I almost groan, my mind jumping through memories of the way she looked in just a pair of panties, the curve of her ass, the way her tits sat pretty on her body, that long golden brown hair trailing down her back. Fuck. I felt myself getting wet. I rub my jaw frustratedly, trying to shake my dirty thoughts.

“Just get dressed Val,” I murmur, my voice hoarse with need. Finally, she obliges, throwing on the t-shirt I gave her. It’s not enough to stop my filthy thoughts, seeing her in my shirt and a pair of white lacy panties, thick thighs all on display, nipples hard and visible through the shirt. No. This wasn’t the time.

Valerie is about to crash back into the bed right when I grab her waist to keep her upright.

“Wanna sleep,” she whines as I guide her towards the bathroom.

“I know ma, in a little bit I promise,” I nearly whisper. It was the first time in my life I had promised anything to a girl and meant it.

Closing the bathroom door, I sit Valerie on the counter, her feet dangling off the edge which makes me smile. Grabbing a brand new toothbrush I try to hand it to Valerie, but her head is almost nodding, eyes completely shut now. This girl would be the death of me.

I wet the toothbrush, and gently holding her face, I brush her teeth. My face is only inches from hers as I watch her start to smile, realising what I was doing. For a moment her eyes flicker open and meet mine, and I feel something I have never felt before. I can’t name it, or quite place it, but the warmth in my chest, the blush on my cheeks and the way my breath hitched made itself known.

“Thank you,” Valerie murmurs, her mouth full of foam. She spits it into the sink, rinsing her mouth as I hold her hair, so incredibly softly, as to not hurt or disturb her.

“Let’s get this makeup off mama,” I say mostly to myself, wiping it all off with some micellar water, trying to be as gentle as I could. Her brown eyes roam my face, making me feel flustered.

“What about my skincare routine?” Valerie asks with a furrow of her brows and I chuckle, shaking my head, going over her face with a cotton pad.

“You don’t want me doin’ that, trust,” I murmur as I’m finally done. Watching her, the way her long dark lashes fluttered, her plump lips and soft skin made a shiver run down my spine. She must’ve been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, even more so like this.

I suddenly notice that my hands are rubbing on the skin of her bare thighs as she watches up at me. I can’t help myself when I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, the tenderness of it making my eyes close. Valerie hums and wraps her arms around my neck, her legs doing the same as I pick her up like that, holding her up by her thighs. Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingertips, sending sparks all over me.

I carry her to my bed as she clings to me, gently laying her down on my bed and tucking the blanket over her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

“I’mma get you some water and go sleep on the couch ok?” I murmur, my fingers brushing against her cheek. Her hands urgently grab my wrist and pull me closer.

“Don’t go,” she whispers and my heart nearly breaks at the way her voice sounds, pleading.

“You sure Val?” I ask carefully.

“Please.”

It doesn’t take more than that to have me throwing off my clothes, leaving me in black boxers and a Nike sports bra and climbing into bed next to her. I carefully lay my head down onto the pillow, studying her features. The curve of her nose, the way her eyebrows arched, the hint of red on her cheeks from the alcohol. Her eyes flicker open, meeting mine as we stare at each other in the dim room. I could feel the heat of her breath on my face, and she inches her head closer, our noses brushing against each other. I nearly whimper at how good it felt, being this close to her.

My blue eyes travel to her lips, the way they glistened as her tongue brushed over them, the way her lower lip was that much more plump than the upper one. In the haze of the night, it’s like I’m outside of my body, unable to control myself when I lean in and kiss her. Immediately Valerie hums, and I think I’m in heaven when her mouth opens to move against mine.

We had kissed plenty of times. But it was never without fucking afterwards. This was completely new, kissing just because. I didn’t know kissing with no end goal could feel this good. I breathe heavy and loud through my nose as our lips move against each other, Valerie’s hand pulling me closer from the back of my neck. My hand on her waist slides underneath the t-shirt and I press my body flush against hers. I feel all of her, the bare skin of her legs wrapping into mine, her breasts against me. But it’s enough for me. Just to have her like this.

“P?” Valerie whispers, as I nuzzle my nose against her, breathless from the kiss.

“Yeah?” I murmur softly, the overwhelming warmth in my chest feeling dizzying.

“I-” she hesitates. “I know you don’t… like when girls spend the night-”

I stop her with a kiss, more for my own sake than hers. It might drive me insane if I have to think about it for longer than ten seconds. The way I was bending all my own rules, the feelings deep inside me. I felt terrified. I didn’t wanna think about it right now.

“You needed me Val,” I whisper against her lips, knowing it wouldn’t be a solution but that explanation would do. It’s not like I was in love, but I did care about her to an extent I guess. And I would never let her be in danger. Ever. I helped because I wanted her safe and because deep down I was a good person. But it has nothing to do with love.

I wrap my arms around the girl next to me, pulling her face into the crook of my neck, her leg swinging over my waist and nuzzling into me. I gently run my hand up and down her back until I feel her go limp in my arms and just for a second I let myself inhale the scent of her, my nose buried into her hair. Maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t Paige Bueckers, if I wasn’t me, this might have had something to do with love.

As the morning sun shines in through the window I feel myself stir awake, immediately met with a pounding in my head as my eyes flutter open. I feel a tight grip around my waist, holding me tight. For a moment I get the uneasy feeling that it’s Jay, but then I hear the light snore of Paige in my ear. Warmth spreads all over my body when I feel her pull me closer in her sleep, her nose pressed against the back of my neck.

A soft smile spreads on my face as I remember last night, Paige picking me up, driving me back, taking care of me, letting me stay over. My stomach fills with butterflies knowing this isn’t what Paige did for any girl. The only thing that mattered to her was ball and that’s it. Girls were just a distraction, something fun to do. But she didn’t care, right? Then why did it feel like she did, when she took care of me last night?

An incredible thirst from my hungover takes over, and I carefully peel Paige’s hand from my waist. Thinking I was sneaky enough to make my escape, I start to climb out of the bed when the strong arm quickly pulls me back down, pressing my back into her front once more.

“Where you going?” Paige’s voice is deep and hoarse from sleep, words muffled against my neck as she holds me down, nuzzling her face into my skin.

“Need some water,” I murmur trying to flatten my hair and push the hand away but Paige doesn’t fold. All she does is shake her head.

“No,” she murmurs and holds me even tighter. It’s almost overwhelming, the way I was getting affection from her. For a moment I try and figure out why she would act like this, but then she kisses my shoulder through the navy shirt and I forget all about it.

“Paigeee,” I giggle but she only keeps shaking her head, her hands tightening around me.

“A lil longer,” she hums, her voice tickling against my ear.

“But I’m thirsty.”

“Fine.”

With a groan, Paige gives my cheek a kiss and climbs out of bed, putting on her basketball shorts and going out to fetch the water. I scooch up on the bed, quickly fixing my hair and trying to make myself look presentable when Paige walks in, carrying two bottles.

“There you go princess,” she grins. Her hair is matted and blue eyes tired as she gets back into bed next to me but I’m quite sure she’s never looked better. However, a sliver of fear in the back of my mind is nibbling away at me. I didn’t understand why she was acting this way, usually Paige’s motives were clear to me. Not this time.

Before I can spiral Paige leans towards me and presses a gentle kiss on my lips, her hand holding my cheek as she does. I kiss her back softly, my stomach twisting. Could she really be this good to me?

Paige pulls back and smiles. “Good morning Val,” she hums with another peck to my lips. I let myself smile back, deciding to worry about this later.

“Morning P,” I whisper and pull back to sip on my water, it soothing the pounding in my head.

“Hungover?” the blonde chuckles but I shake my head, though maybe I did feel the shakes a little bit.

Paige bites her lower lip not believing a word I said with a knowing smirk. She grabs her glasses, putting them on herself to see me better in the morning light. I can’t lie, she looks fucking amazing in her glasses and it makes it hard to ignore the ache between my legs when she looks like that - silver chain with a cross on her neck, sports bra, shorts and those fucking glasses.

I snuggle back underneath the blanket, pulling it all the way over my head, like that could somehow hide my filthy thoughts.

“Yo, where you going,” Paige laughs hoarsely, pulling the blanket away. I quickly bury my face in the pillow to hide.

“I don’t look good in the mornings,” I murmur, a blush rising to my cheeks from the way she was staring, let alone the dirty thoughts in my head.

Paige snorts and brushes my hair away from my face. “Oh so you care that much what I think huh?” her voice is smug and it makes me slap her arm, making her hiss.

She slides underneath the blanket too, her head resting next to my pillow. I can feel her watchful eyes roaming my face.

“Get outta here with that shit Val, you know you’re fucking gorgeous,” she murmurs, her words lighthearted but to me they mean more. My stomach filling with butterflies, I finally turn to face her, eyes meeting hers.

“You really think so?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. I was a confident woman, someone who took care of herself, didn’t need anyone’s approval. But with Paige I found myself craving it. I hated it

With a roll of her eyes, Paige smirks and pulls me on top of her. “C’mere ma,” she murmurs and her hand drags me down for a kiss by the back of my head. I sigh into her lips, my body against hers and legs straddling her as Paige’s big hands explored my body, slipping underneath the t-shirt and brushing against my side. All the need accumulated since last night, no, since that night in the bathroom finally tips over.

I break the kiss to sit back up and pull off the t-shirt, Paige’s mouth agape as she looks up at me, wetting her lips as her eyes wander around my body, letting out a heavy breath as her gaze lands onto my breasts.

“Perfect girl,” she coos, bringing her hand to cup my breast. Goosebumps cover my skin as I lower myself back to kiss her jaw. I had completely forgotten about Jay at this point, all I saw was Paige.

My hands are quick to find her shorts, pulling them down with urgency while my lips suck on her neck. Usually she reminded me not to leave marks but this time all I hear from her is heavy breathing and quiet groans, bucking her hips up at me. I grin against her neck, testing the waters and sucking a little, enough to leave a little mark. Paige only hums and helps me by throwing her shorts onto the floor.

My fingertips sneak underneath her sports bra, my other hand pushing Paige’s rising hips down, seeking to find contact somewhere.

“Take it off,” I whimper and watch her lust filled gaze never break eye contact as she pulls the bra off, leaving her only in the black boxers. I found my mouth salivating for her, wanting to bury myself between her legs. But I must take my time, I needed to. I needed to drag it out as long as I could.

I watch her hiss and throw her head back as my tongue swirls around her nipple, feeling it turn hard underneath my tongue. Biting on it gently, I grind my clothed core down on her thigh, my wetness growing unbearable.

“Val, you’re killing me,” Paige nearly whines and I giggle, leaving red marks on her breasts, my hands gripping her thighs tight.

“Good,” is all I say as I continue my descent, placing sloppy kisses all over her abs, my mind wandering to the dirty thoughts of what they’d feel like flexing under my pussy, grinding my clit against them. I needed to keep that in mind for the future. But not now, I needed to taste her.

Paige groans frustratedly, and I feel her hands coming to my head to push me down. I slap her hands away, pinning them by her side, lifting my head to look at her. She could easily push my grip away and take me, but Paige was letting me have my fun, my fingers digging into her wrists.

“Baby, c’mon,” she whines, looking down at me with her teeth biting down on her lip, brows furrowed and hips bucking.

“Keep those hands to yourself Bueckers,” I murmur, my lips kissing along the band of her boxers. I hear her groan, arching to my touch. I lift my gaze to her, my eyes wide. “Oh, you want these off?” I ask, acting dumb, slowly beginning to pull down the boxers.

“You’re such a bitch,” Paige says, trying to sound serious but a small whine comes through in her voice, making me grin.

“I think you like it,” I tease, finally pulling the boxers off her. “I think it makes you wet,” I grin seeing the way she’s glistening for me as I spread her legs apart, making room for myself.

“Fuck it does ma,” Paige moans, watching me descend inbetween her legs, her hand finding my brown hair and pulling it off my face. I maintain eye contact, my own core leaking through my panties at this point as I kiss her inner thighs, feeling the way they tremble underneath my lips.

“That’s fucked up, you should go to therapy,” I grin, my mouth slowly inching closer to where she needed me most. “That’s gotta be some kinda- mmph,” suddenly Paige’s hands both pull me to her core, my mouth buried in her cunt as she lets out a guttural moan.

“Ohhhh shit Val that’s it,” she groans as I take the hint, my tongue swirling all around her folds, softly lapping against her clit just the way she likes. Her taste on my tongue feels like heaven and I feel my own eyes roll back from how good it felt to have her like this. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as my lips suck on her clit, earning desperate whines from her.

“Mmmh, that’s it, just like that ma,” she moans and I hear her hiss as my tongue slips inside her, nose rubbing against her clit. Paige is making a mess of my face, and the sheets but neither of us bother to care at this point. She leans up against her elbows to see my ass in the mirrored closet opposite to her bed, letting out a groan as she sees the reflection of me bent over, eating her, a wet spot visible on my panties.

She leans over and I feel a loud smack on my ass as I continue to make a mess of her with my tongue, alternating between sucking her clit and licking sloppily. “Mmph,” I moan against her, it sending vibrations all over her body. That was enough for me to feel the muscles on her thighs start to tighten.

“Taste so good baby, fuck,” I whimper on her pussy, making Paige let out a guttural groan, her grip in my hair tightening further, guiding my mouth just right.

“Such a fucking good girl,” she hisses, watching me in the mirror, her eyes heavy as she found herself getting closer just from the way my tongue is lapping her up. “So fucking- ahh shit, sexy,”

“Yeah you think I’m sexy?” I whimper against her dripping cunt, shaking my head with my tongue buried in her folds. Paige’s eyes flutter shut and she nods, jaw going slack.

“Perfect, so good for me,” she mumbles, barely able to hold herself together. “Gonna make me– shit, gonna make me cum.”

I keep lapping her, listening for her reactions and holding her still as her body started to squirm underneath me, building to her orgasm. “Baby I need you to cum,” I murmur, my jaw hurting but the sounds coming out of Paige’s mouth making it all worth it.

“Please, Paige,” I whine and that does it. I feel her gasp, her hand gripping my hair and burying my face into her. I could barely breathe but I don’t mind as my mouth works tirelessly to get her over the edge.

“Valerie, oh fuck,” she groans, her head tilting back and back arching as she reaches her orgasm, grinding herself against my face. It’s so hot I nearly come too. I guide her through it, licking her until her moans turn high pitched and her hands in my hair ease up.

Panting, she brushes her hair off her face as I wipe my face onto her thigh, watching her from between her legs.

“Goddamn baby,” she says hoarsely, trying to catch her breath. Giggling, I climb back up on top of her, Paige’s hand slapping my ass hard enough to make me let out a squeal.

“Stop, you’ll leave a bruise,” I complain, but Paige grins arrogantly, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. I moan hard, feeling the dampness in my panties growing unbearable.

“That’s the point ma,” she chuckles against my lips, suddenly flipping me over and spreading my legs wide as she sits between them, biting her lips and gazing down at me. “Fuck,” she groans looking from my damp panties to my dark eyes. For a moment she looks almost a little flustered, trying to find the words.

“I uh, I got something new,” she says, her cheeks turning even redder. Curious, I lean up against the pillows behind me. “For us, I mean.”

Wait, she knew I was seeing someone, and she was seeing someone too, but she got something just for us two? What game was she trying to play? It felt impossible to figure her out.

Before my mind begins to race further, Paige has dug out a blue vibrator wand and is kissing me more tenderly than before. She pulls away a little, clearly hesitating for a moment.

“I don’t want you using the same toy on me and your other bitches,” I tell her a little offended but Paige quickly shakes her head.

“No no no, Valerie ‘s not like that,” she urgently stops me, kissing me softly. “It’s just for us, for you. No one else.”

Her words sound soft, almost tender against my lips which only makes me grow wetter between my legs. I didn’t know what parts were an act and what were genuine. All I knew is I needed her badly.

The moment I nod, Paige’s hands slide underneath the band of my panties, sliding them down to my ankles tenderly, her kisses soft and sloppy against my lips, moving to my neck. The breathy whimper I let out makes Paige let out a heavy breath as her hands spread my legs wide apart, wetness dripping out of me already.

“So pretty,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as she grabs the vibrator, the quiet, steady buzzing signalling it was turned on. I watch her wide eyes as she brings it to my thighs.

“Paige please,” I whine out squirming as she kneels between my legs and places her knees on my thighs to hold them wide open and steady. She watches me writhe underneath her, nearly gasping for air from how bad she loves seeing me like this.

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, the vibrator ghosting my cunt to find my opposite thigh, vibrating against it. “You know what to call me.”

Fuck. She had gotten like this once before, made me call her something that drove both her and me wild. She knew I would remember what it was.

“Fuck. Daddy, please,”

With that Paige presses the toy against my swollen, sensitive clit, immediately forcing wetness to drip out of me as I gasp and grab onto the sheets around us. She gasps with me, like she’s feeling it too as my legs immediately start to shake, wanting to close around the toy, but Paige’s legs are pinning me down. It was way too much, overstimulating in every sense.

“Too much P,” I cry out but Paige shakes her head, shushing me as she towers over me.

“Just a lil more ma, you can take it,” she coos, leaning down to press kisses on my open mouth, turning the vibrator on a higher setting. “‘S gonna feel so good I promise.”

I feel my eyes grow teary as the toy vibrates against my soaking cunt ruthlessly, when suddenly all of the overstimulation turns into nothing but pleasure. My eyes roll back and I let out a loud moan.

“Daddy, shit,” I whine, my back arching and my nails digging into Paige’s back as she holds the toy steady on me, slowly starting to circle my clit with it making a quick mess of me.

“You’re so wet baby,” Paige gasps shocked as she glances down at the way her hand and the sheets were glistening. But I barely notice, already feeling that coil in my abdomen start to tighten. I’m gasping desperately now, hands grabbing anything they could, moaning loudly as Paige kissed my jaw and neck groaning against my skin.

“Daddy I’m gonna come-” I cry out, tears spilling from my eyes, Paige moving the vibrator against me sloppily, driving me to the edge.

“Fuck, already?” Paige asks, surprised but impressed, her nose pressing against mine. My legs tremble desperately as her free hand slides up to hold my jaw.

I nod, my eyes squeezing shut as I’m just about to roll over the edge. Suddenly Paige pulls the toy away from me, making my eyes snap open and leaving my core throbbing, no, aching for relief.

“What the fuck?” I ask but Paige just grins down at me.

“You didn’t say please,” she smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I don’t have to say please,”

“Yes the fuck you do.”

“No I don’t,”

“Fine if you don’t wanna come ma.”

Frustrated, I groan. I simultaneously hated and loved when Paige made me beg for it. I hated giving her the satisfaction. But lying underneath her with my cunt throbbing and tears rolling down my cheeks I would’ve done anything to come for her.

“Please,” I say, my cheeks blushing as I look up into her blue eyes. She was enjoying this a little too much.

“Please what?” Paige teases, pushing the vibrator against my inner thigh again. It makes me moan softly, wanting to buck my hips closer, but it was useless.

“Please daddy,” I finally whine, earning a smile from Paige.

“Good girl.”

The vibrator is pushed against my clit again, now turned up all the way, forcing a moan to spill from my lips as I feel my orgasm quickly start to build once more.

“Open your mouth,” Paige commands and I don’t even think about it when I push my tongue out and feel her spit into my mouth before kissing my lips fiercely, moving the toy in a circular motion against my swollen clit.

“Daddy, fuck, please, please, please,” I plead, not even completely sure what for as my mind turns hazy and my body trembles uncontrollably.

“Such a good girl for daddy,” she praises with a hoarse voice, nose pressed tight against mine as she kisses my open mouth, bringing me to the edge.

“C’mon pretty girl come for me.”

I feel my body ride over the edge, all the muscles in my body tightening, back arching and a high pitched moan leaving my lips as the pleasure finally releases, waves of ecstasy rushing over me.

“Aww shit, look at that ma,” Paige mumbles, looking between our bodies watching the way my cunt was squirting all over her arm, legs and bed. My mind turns completely blank, eyes shut tight as my nails nearly draw blood from her back, the pleasure overwhelming me.

I swear I black out for a moment, only returning to consciousness from how suddenly overstimulating and almost painful the toy felt against my clit.

“Stopp, stop stop stop,” I whine pushing Paige’s hand away as she chuckles but obliges. The quiet buzzing of the toy ends as it’s thrown onto the mattress and the blonde crashes on top of me, nuzzling her nose into my neck.

I take a moment to try and catch my breath before I realise what just happened, and what a mess I had made. Looking down at us and the wet spot we were lying in I sigh, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Fuck I’m sorry P,” I murmur but she pulls away, looking at me shocked.

“For?”

“For, well…” I mumble and point to the mess but she only smugly smiles and shakes her head.

“You’re kidding, ma that’s so sexy,” she arrogantly says.

My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

Paige licks her lips and nods. “Ye, really. Never made you squirt before.”

I blush a little as Paige presses a soft, tender kiss on my lips - almost loving.

“C’mon let’s go shower,” she murmurs.

I giggle a little, shaking my head. “I cannot stand yet.”

“Oh,” Paige laughs and looks down at my legs that are visibly still trembling.

“I’ll carry you then,” she says and easily scoops me up, walking us both towards the shower.

I rest my head on her shoulder, watching the way her nose turns up at the end, the way her lower lip pouts and how her jawline sharpens as she tilts her head. Something about her had changed. Lately she had been more caring, kind, tender. I didn’t understand it. All I knew is the way my heart fluttered and my mind eased up around her, I was in big trouble with Paige Bueckers.

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch @mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @justliketoreadsowhat @oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her @julieloveswbb @vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi @thelightknight21 @paigeluvvr @absolutelydreadful @imamartini @lupinqs @authentic-girl03 @isurpussygreen @xxloveralways14 (SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG)

#too lost in you #lilas writing #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #wnba x oc #paige bueckers x female oc

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jinwoosbabyboo · 12 hours ago

Text

Is This a Tragedy?

You're an actor and you finally got your big role in a hit TV show. Unfortunately your character only made it to Season 2 before they killed you off. This is how I imagine the lads men react to watching that scene [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

calm cool and collected on the outside; whole time he's really having an internal breakdown

grips your hand a little tighter in his as the scene progresses

“are you dying? is this a tragedy?”

is very aware that it’s just a show, but can’t stop his heart from pounding at the thought of losing you

rubs his eyes to keep himself from tearing up

stares at you after the episode ends “What?” “The thought of losing you has always terrified me; watching you perform that scene does not help” “it’s my job Zayne besides im right here”

finds himself staring at you more often just trying to commit every feature of yours to memory

never willingly watches that episode again

skips over that part every time or just turns the show off “You still can’t watch it?” “No”

praises you for the phenomenal performance although he claims it was a little too realistic

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

is great at slipping in and out of character so he was the one helping you with your acting skills

sits up straight when he realizes what's happening “is this the scene you've been keeping secret?”

falls out immediately in your lap

bawling his eyes out goes as far to curl up in your lap

would be so proud of not only you, but himself as well for helping you perfect your craft

“Do I get credit as the acting coach?” “Yes would you like a reward?” “You know I do”

Although he’s proud of you he can’t bring himself to watch the episode again also doesn't continue watching the show in general "they killed off my favorite character how can I continue watching it now?"

keeps pushing you to work on crying on command so if you need to cry for your next roll it’s even better

acted out the scene with you at home for fun once and had a mental breakdown

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

Fell asleep in the middle of the show and missed it

“just watch it when you get a chance” “no replay it”

immediately turns the show off in the middle of the scene

“im not watching this” “Xav…” “No”

drills you with questions about why you didn’t tell him you were dying in that episode

“I can’t watch that don’t make me watch it” "You're being a little dramatic don't you think?"

pouts, pouts, and pouts some more

won’t watch it no matter how much you beg

although he never finished watching the whole scene he holds your hand tighter now these days

asks for a warning next time so he can prepare himself …… to fast forward

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

watches quietly giving away nothing

“You even shed a few tears for your own scene?” teases you for crying at your own death scene “it looks different after the editing okay!”

won't admit it, but one time was enough

“it made you sad didn’t it?” “Well I don’t take pleasure in watching you die onscreen sweetie” “im alive though” “Let's keep it that way”

weasels his way out of watching the scene again

his voice slightly wavers whenever you bring it up

avoids eye contact when you tease him about it

held you tighter at night for at least a month

Bonus: the twins bawled their eyes out and tackled you to the ground with a bone crushing hug

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #lnds zayne #lnds #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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moonselune · 3 days ago

Note

Bg3 companions and a reader who is ridiculously into them? like can't be around them without blushing, stuttering over words, etc.

Love your writing ♥️♥️♥️

ahhhhh thank you so much, this was a pleasure to write !

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Breakfast in camp had become a small but daily ordeal. Sitting across from Karlach was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking. She always looked so effortlessly radiant—her wide smile lighting up her face, her hair messy from sleep, and that laugh that came from deep within her chest. You, meanwhile, were a nervous mess, barely able to lift a spoon without fumbling it in her presence.

This morning, you were attempting to slice an apple while also trying to sneak glances at her, as usual. But, distracted as you were, you barely noticed when she caught you looking. She grinned, that flash of teeth making your heart skip about five beats.

“Hey, you want some?” she asked, holding out a plate piled high with a variety of fresh fruits. You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Uh—y-yes! I mean, no! I mean—” You fumbled for the right words, your voice a bit too loud in your panic. Karlach looked at you, mildly confused but amused.

“Alright then, you let me know if you change your mind,” she said, winking, before going back to her breakfast. The little wink nearly killed you on the spot, and you dropped your apple, which rolled dramatically across the table and plopped off the other side.

Wyll, sitting beside you, tried to hide a snicker behind his hand. He’d been noticing your flustered behavior around Karlach for days and had clearly reached his breaking point. As Karlach turned away, Wyll leaned in close to you, smirking.

“Oh, this is painful to watch,” he muttered, barely containing his laughter. “When are you going to do something about it?”

You gave him a quick, desperate glare, feeling the blood drain from your face.

“Do something?” you whispered, panic lacing your voice. “Wyll, I can’t even string a proper sentence together around her without sounding like a fool!”

Wyll rolled his eyes, still grinning.

“Trust me, I can see that,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But if you keep this up, it’s going to get unbearable for both of us. You’re absolutely lovesick, and she’s completely oblivious.”

“Lovesick?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice low but also scandalized by the word. “That’s… that’s not…”

Wyll arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look that read, Really?

You sighed, knowing he was right. Every time Karlach entered the room, you either found an excuse to leave or wound up a blushing, stumbling mess. Just this morning, she’d brushed a crumb off your shoulder, and you had nearly collapsed on the spot.

Wyll laughed, patting you on the back a little harder than you would have liked. “Look, if you don’t do something soon, I will. Maybe I’ll tell her for you—‘oh, by the way, did you know you’ve got someone so smitten with you, they can’t even eat breakfast right?’”

Your eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow with challenge.

“Fine,” you whispered, heart racing at the thought of actually doing something about it. “What do I… say?”

Wyll shrugged, his expression softening a bit. “Just talk to her. Be honest. If there’s one thing Karlach respects, it’s bravery. And if there’s one thing she loves, it’s someone who cares as much as she does.”

But as you mulled it over, you looked across the table and saw Karlach laughing at something Astarion was saying, her eyes bright with amusement, her entire face aglow with the life and warmth she carried effortlessly. You swallowed, trying to imagine how you’d ever muster up the courage to tell her anything.

The rest of breakfast went by with your heart hammering and Wyll occasionally sending you smirking looks. You felt like you were on fire, thoughts racing as you considered his words.

Finally, as camp was beginning to break up and everyone was scattering to their daily tasks, you decided to follow Wyll’s advice. Taking a deep breath, you gathered every bit of courage you could find and made your way over to Karlach, who was busy folding up her bedroll. She looked up, surprised, as you approached.

“Oh, hey! Need something?” she asked, her grin warm as always.

You cleared your throat, feeling the words get caught. “I… um…”

Karlach tilted her head, watching you patiently. “Everything okay?”

And there it was, the opening. The chance to say something. Be brave, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath and tried again.

“I just… wanted to say…” you stumbled, unable to look her in the eye. “I really… enjoy spending time with you.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a soft smile, her eyes studying your face, but still, she seemed blissfully unaware. “Well, good! Same here! You’re a lot of fun, you know. Brave in your own way, even if a bit shy,” she teased lightly, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe Wyll had a point—Karlach appreciated bravery, and here you were, looking like a fool again. But as her hand lingered just a moment longer on your arm, you felt a surge of determination. This was only the beginning.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You’d found Minthara’s sword on the outskirts of camp that morning, half-buried beneath some tangled roots. It was unmistakably hers—dark metal with a wicked curve, and elegant engravings tracing the hilt. You’d only seen her use it from afar, but even then, there was something mesmerizing about the way she wielded it, about the way her gaze sharpened whenever she held a blade. You were already a bundle of nerves at the thought of returning it to her, and that only got worse the closer you got to her tent.

She was sharpening a dagger when you approached, her expression focused, so much so that for a moment, you thought about turning back. But then she noticed you, her eyes snapping up to meet yours with a glint of curiosity.

“You’re looking rather… tense.” Her eyebrow arched slightly as she took you in.

Your heart thudded painfully, and you swallowed, forcing yourself to hold up the sword without dropping it. “Uh, I… found this for you. Your sword, I mean. It was… um, outside camp, and I thought you might want it back?”

Her gaze softened, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached for the sword, her fingers brushing against yours. You nearly jumped at the contact, face burning, feeling like you might explode from embarrassment. You tried to say something else, but the words came out as a strangled squeak, and you practically forced yourself to look at the ground to avoid those piercing eyes of hers.

“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing over the sword, and then back at you. “Thank you. It's… refreshing to see someone with a sense of respect.” She held your gaze for a moment longer, and then, with an amused nod, she went back to her sharpening.

You quickly walked away, all but stumbling as you escaped, only to find yourself practically nose-to-nose with Shadowheart, who looked far too amused.

"Gods above," she snorted, crossing her arms. "I've never seen someone turn so red while returning a weapon."

You stammered, looking anywhere but at her. "I was just… trying to be polite!"

"Polite? If that's your version of polite, then I’d hate to see you actually try flirting," she teased, unable to hide her grin.

“Oh, please,” you huffed, looking away and trying to calm the blush still heating your face. “It's just… I don’t know. I like her, alright? Even if she’s… well, she could probably kill me without a second thought.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. "Good to know you’re aware. And yet you still act like a lovesick fool around her, it's almost like you want her to kill you."

“I would die happy!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up. “Minthara could do anything she wants to me—absolutely anything at all—and I’d thank her. She could stomp me into the dirt, call me a fool, hex me, curse me, make my life a living hell, and I'd still probably thank her with my last breath!”

Shadowheart laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You’re hopeless."

But you were too caught up in your rant. "I’d let her do anything—anything at all! She could make me fetch her supplies every morning, have me clean her sword every night, stand guard for her at dawn and dusk, and I’d still think it was the best thing to ever happen to me!”

"Ahem."

You froze, mid-rant, and turned slowly to find Minthara standing directly behind you. She looked deeply amused, one eyebrow raised, her eyes glittering with dark humor. Her smirk was even more wicked than usual, and her gaze held you captive as she stepped closer.

“Good to know,” she said, her voice smooth and cool, her smirk only growing. “I may have to test that loyalty sometime.”

She winked at you, and then, just as easily as she’d come, she turned and sauntered away, leaving you standing there completely speechless, your face redder than ever.

Shadowheart burst out laughing, clutching her side as she watched you sway in shock. “You really have a gift for making a fool of yourself, you know that?”

You sank to your knees, stunned, still processing that Minthara had heard every single word. Shadowheart’s laughter rang in your ears, but you were simply too dazed to care. Perhaps that death would come quicker than expected - if your own heart didn't give out first.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Every time Lae’zel looked your way, you felt like a live wire, a rush of heat filling your face. She seemed to command every space she entered, her presence sharp, unapologetic, and utterly captivating. But whenever you were around her, every sentence became a tangle of stammered nonsense, and all you could do was blush helplessly. Today was no different.

You were fumbling with your supplies near the fire when Lae’zel walked over, her gaze scrutinizing as always.

"You’ve been acting strange,” she declared, crossing her arms and eyeing you critically. “Weakness of any sort is unacceptable. Are you unwell?"

Her bluntness only made you more flustered, words tripping over each other as you tried to respond. "No, I… I mean, yes, but not in that way. I mean, I'm fine. Completely fine.”

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “You are not fine. You stammer, you lose color and gain it again. See Halsin or Shadowheart—this weakness needs mending.”

Desperate to reassure her, you tried to explain further, but each attempt seemed to make it worse. “I’m not… it’s not that kind of weakness, I just—well, around you, I—uh…”

She fixed you with a glare, her frown deepening. "Enough. Your words make less sense with every second. Perhaps you’re more ill than you realize.”

Your cheeks burned as she turned sharply to fetch Halsin, all but barking his name across camp. He arrived quickly, taking in the scene with a look of amused understanding.

“She is in poor health,” she said, gesturing at you. “They are losing control over their words and show clear signs of a fever. You will attend to them.”

Halsin’s brows lifted slightly, and with a knowing look, he glanced from you to Lae’zel. He gave a slow, considering nod. “Yes, I believe I see the trouble. An ailment, certainly… though it appears to be more of the heart than of the body.”

Lae’zel scowled, gripping her weapon as if ready for battle. “Explain this ‘heart ailment.’ What creature has inflicted it upon them?”

Halsin chuckled softly. “They’ve been bitten by a lovebug, Lae’zel. That’s all.”

Lae'zel let out a string of sharp Gith curses, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "A lovebug. Where does it lurk, this creature? If it is preying upon our camp, I’ll hunt it down myself and crush it beneath my blade."

Her fierce determination, though absurd, only made your heart race more. Halsin stifled a laugh, giving you a sidelong look of utter amusement.

“I think you’ll find that hunting it will be… difficult,” he said, barely hiding his grin. “The lovebug often prefers stealth, hiding within feelings rather than form.”

“Feelings, a psychic offender,” she repeated, her brow creasing in thought. After a moment, she nodded decisively. “It is trickier prey, then. But I will find it nonetheless.”

And with that, she strode off, muttering to herself about unknown threats to the camp. As soon as she was out of earshot, Halsin let out a laugh, clapping you on the shoulder. “You know, I think you may have just made a miraculous recovery.”

You let out a groan, pressing a hand to your flushed face. “Do you think she’ll ever realize?”

“Not any time soon, I’d wager,” he chuckled. “But watching her hunt for a creature that doesn’t exist… that’s something we’ll all enjoy.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart’s approach had been so unassuming, yet it immediately set your heart racing. You’d been minding your own business by the campfire, trying not to glance her way too much, when she’d walked over, looking perfectly calm and utterly oblivious to the effect she had on you. She needed help with a spell—one that apparently you could explain better than anyone else at camp. You tried to play it cool, managing a quick, slightly-too-high “Sure!” and hoping your pulse wasn’t visibly hammering in your throat.

Standing beside her, you began explaining the spell, hands trembling ever so slightly as you demonstrated the incantation.

“So…uh…you’ll want to focus your energy here, at the core…” you muttered, gesturing to the focus stone. You held it out for her to see, only to have her fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through you that nearly made you drop the thing.

“Like this?” Shadowheart asked, her gaze flicking up to meet yours. Her dark eyes held that same thoughtful curiosity, and your voice caught in your throat. It was hard enough trying to form sentences with her this close, let alone explain a complex spell.

“Y-yes. Like that,” you managed, each word coming out slightly unsteady. “And, uh, then you just…channel it gently, but with intention.” She tilted her head, leaning closer, following along with perfect focus.

Meanwhile, just behind her, Karlach was all but dying, barely containing her laughter as she watched you fumble. Her amusement was clearly at your expense, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glare at her. Your attention drifted back to Shadowheart just as she turned her attention to the final gesture of the spell.

Her hand rested over yours for a second too long, her voice soft as she asked, “Does this look right?”

You nodded dumbly, your brain too overloaded to form a coherent reply, and somehow muttered, “It’s, uh…very…graceful.” Internally, you cringed. Graceful?

Shadowheart, apparently too engrossed in the spell to notice your red cheeks, gave a small, content nod. She released your hand, oblivious to the way you quickly hid your trembling fingers.

“Thank you,” she said with a rare smile, her voice calm and warm. “I think I understand it now.”

She turned to leave, casting one last glance over her shoulder, which made you feel simultaneously light-headed and weak in the knees. You stared after her, still processing, trying to shake off the ridiculous butterflies. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until she was already out of earshot.

The second she was gone, Karlach burst out laughing, dropping her head back in utter delight.

“Gods! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were spellbound yourself,” she teased, unable to wipe the grin off her face. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Hopeless,” she declared, shaking her head at you with a mischievous gleam.

Heat flooded your face all over again as you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I know, okay? It’s…utterly hopeless,” you admitted, voice thick with defeat. Before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed her mug of beer straight from her hand and downed it in a few quick gulps, hoping it would somehow wash away the mortification you felt. Setting the empty mug down, you sighed deeply. “She didn’t even notice anything.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re very, very wrong,” Karlach countered, her smile twisting into something sly and secretive. She crossed her arms, leaning in as if sharing a precious secret. “Because she was definitely checking you out while you were showing her that spell.”

You froze, turning slowly to look at her, heart skipping a beat.

“You’re joking,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper. There was a spark of hope, ridiculous but undeniable, blooming somewhere deep in your chest.

Karlach grinned wider, shaking her head. “Oh, no. She was stealing glances at you the entire time,” she said, sounding far too pleased with herself. “She’d peek up at you just when you weren’t looking, trying to act all serious, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. You might be as oblivious, but I’ve got eyes.” She winked, patting your shoulder in encouragement.

Your mind raced, playing the whole interaction back. You remembered how Shadowheart’s gaze had lingered, her voice soft, her questions coming slower, almost careful… Could Karlach really be right? Was it possible that Shadowheart had actually been…interested?

“Maybe there’s hope after all…” you mumbled, feeling that glimmer of excitement grow.

Karlach clapped you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking the air out of you. “There you go! Just keep stuttering and blushing—seems to be working like a charm.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep embarrassing myself, then,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

Karlach’s laughter echoed across the camp, but her eyes held a genuine warmth as she said, “Well at least it’s a start. You’ll get there.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira's gaze was focused, unrelenting as she adjusted your grip on the scimitar. Her hands, warm and confident, guided yours over the hilt, showing you the correct angle, the precise strength you should use. Every time her hand brushed yours, you felt your heart stammer. You hoped she didn’t notice your flushed cheeks or the way your breath caught every time she leaned closer.

“Here,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. She moved to your side, adjusting the angle of your stance with the barest brush of her hand along your back. “It’s not about brute force,” she murmured, her voice so close it felt like a whisper. “It’s about control, understanding where the balance lies in every movement.”

You nodded, barely able to find your voice, managing only a stuttered, “Y-yes, of course.” But you were far more focused on her proximity than any of her advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Astarion lounging a few paces away, arms crossed and a devilish grin spreading across his face. He had noticed, of course—there was no hiding it from his all-too-keen gaze. Before you could silently beg him to go easy on you, he stepped closer, feigning a helpful tone.

“Stick your rear out more,” he suggested, his voice laced with amusement. “Helps with balance. And I’m sure Jaheira would agree.” He flashed you a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Your face flamed, and you shot him a withering look.

“Thanks, Astarion,” you muttered under your breath, attempting to ignore him. But his smirk only widened, and he continued to watch, pleased with himself.

Jaheira, still adjusting your stance, gave you a quick nod, oblivious to your flustered state and Astarion’s antics.

“There you go,” she said, stepping back just enough to observe your form. “Much better.” She gave a satisfied nod and went on to demonstrate a quick series of strikes, her movements fluid and sure, each slash a picture of precision and elegance.

You could barely pay attention, completely distracted by the grace with which she wielded her weapon, the easy strength in her every move. As she looked back at you, catching you gawking, you fumbled to regain focus.

“Uh—yes! Right, like that!” you stammered, hurriedly attempting to mimic her motions.

Jaheira gave a small, amused smile before nodding approvingly. “Keep practicing that sequence. It’ll help build your control.”

As she left the clearing, giving you one last nod of encouragement, you could hardly breathe. You waited until she was out of sight before collapsing against Astarion, running a hand through your hair with a groan.

“I’m hopeless,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She probably thinks I’m a complete mess.”

“Oh, she definitely does,” Astarion said, his grin impossibly smug as he gave you a playful shove. “But she won’t have to wonder about it for long.”

You shot him a look, eyebrow raised in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Astarion’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I may have left your journal in her tent. You know, the one with the little poems in the margins?” He waggled his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Your eyes went wide, horror settling over you as you gaped at him.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, dread turning your stomach. The journal held every embarrassing thought, every scribbled confession, every starry-eyed rant about Jaheira that you hadn’t dared speak aloud.

“Oh, but I did.” Astarion’s voice was light, mocking even, but his eyes held a teasing warmth. “Look on the bright side. At least now she’ll know how much you ‘admire her scimitar technique.’ among other things..”

You shrieked in exasperation, though a traitorous part of you couldn’t help but feel the faintest spark of excitement at the idea. You shoved Astarion, who merely laughed, delighted with himself, as you stood there in helpless anticipation, wondering how you’d ever face Jaheira again.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Trying to stay composed around Gale was becoming increasingly impossible. You could barely string together a coherent sentence whenever he was nearby, your cheeks burning and your heart racing so loudly you were sure he could hear it. It had gotten to the point that, during one of his magic lessons, you’d accidentally projected a very vivid thought about kissing him far into the Weave—and while he hadn’t directly addressed it, you had felt your face go scarlet the moment it happened.

Yet, despite that blunder and all your clumsy attempts to communicate the depths of your affection, Gale remained completely oblivious. And this state of suspended longing, this fruitless crush, was starting to drive you mad.

After another awkward lesson with Gale where you stumbled over your words and blushed at the mere brush of his hand over yours, you found yourself venting to Minthara, though you knew her to be an unlikely confidante. Her eyes held little sympathy, her arms crossed as she gave you a hard, skeptical look.

“Just grab the wizard and use him for your pleasure,” she suggested bluntly, as if it were the obvious solution. Her gaze was sharp and impatient. “You’re a warrior, not a blubbering fool.”

You shook your head quickly, horrified. “No, no, it’s not like that! I don’t just want him in some shallow way.” You sighed, your heart feeling tight. “I want to… to adore him. To look after him. To treasure everything about him, every small thing, every story he tells and every spell he casts. I want to worship him like he deserves.” You leaned into your words, almost forgetting who you were talking to in the rapture of your lovesick confession. “I want to make him feel like he’s the most cherished person in the world.”

Minthara recoiled as if you’d offended her sensibilities with such sentimentality, looking visibly revolted by your romantic ramblings. Her lips curled in distaste.

“By the darkness, are you even listening to yourself?” She gave an exasperated huff, then, with a roll of her eyes, she called across the camp, her voice clear as a bell. “Wizard!” she yelled, her tone commanding and fierce. “They want to go on their knees for you—are you going to do something about it, or will I have to rip out their tongue to stop their endless lovesick whining?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and before you could process the horror, Gale turned, an expression of curiosity mixed with surprise crossing his face as he started to walk over. You immediately whacked Minthara on the arm, panic rising as you whispered, “What are you doing?!”

Minthara looked at you with a smug indifference, ignoring your frantic scolding as if she’d done you the greatest favor.

“A strange way to show your gratitude,” she remarked drily, “given how much assistance I just rendered.”

By then, Gale had reached you both, his brows lifted in confusion, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“What’s all this about… someone going on their knees?” he asked, looking between you and Minthara, though his gaze lingered on you. His voice was gentle, though you could see the glimmer of curiosity—and something else—in his eyes.

You shot Minthara a glare, your face flaming, then took a steadying breath, turning to Gale.

“I—um,” you stammered, realizing there was no dignified way to explain this away. “I think… what Minthara was so eloquently trying to say is that I… might, uh, harbor feelings for you.” You paused, swallowing. “Quite a few of them, actually.”

Gale’s face softened, and a warm smile played at his lips, his hand reaching to touch yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dipping low, “it’s wonderful to know I’m not the only one who’s felt that spark.”

Minthara turned away, clearly satisfied, muttering something about lesser beings and their foolish emotions, but you hardly noticed her departure as your heart beat out of your touch, your greatest fantasies finally coming true.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Dinner had been an ordeal. Astarion sat beside you, closer than usual, his presence a tangible, almost overwhelming warmth. Every time he reached for something or murmured a comment, you felt yourself freeze, stumbling over your responses, blushing so furiously you’d started to worry it was noticeable. You could barely bring yourself to eat, much less speak, and by the end of the meal, you were sure you’d only embarrassed yourself.

That might have been manageable if it ended there. But just hours later, as the party approached a fortress with heavy guards stationed at the gates, Astarion took the lead, slipping into his charming, roguish element. He approached the security with a smooth, confident swagger, flashing that insouciant smile of his, every word a practiced melody of flattery and wit. He left them captivated, helpless to deny him as he led the party in with ease, his charm so intoxicating it almost felt like magic.

And while the others chuckled at his skillful maneuvering, you felt an unexpected ache in your chest. Watching him sway them so effortlessly stirred a pang of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Did he even notice the way you pined for him? The way every stray touch or knowing look from him seemed to linger long after he’d moved on?

Caught in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Gale was watching you with a raised brow. He leaned over, studying your expression with mild amusement and maybe a bit of pity.

“You look,” he began in a soft murmur, “like someone just killed a displacer kitten right in front of you.”

Startled, you forced a tight smile, trying to wave him off. “It’s nothing, Gale.”

“Nothing?” He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please, you’ve been fawning over Astarion for ages now, your heart practically on display.”

There was a pause as you grappled with the admission, your face heating up, but at last, the dam broke, and you began to pour out your feelings in a quiet, hushed ramble.

“It’s just… my heart beats for him, Gale. Every time he speaks, I hang on his every word. I want nothing more than to just reach over, brush his hair back, and listen to him talk about all his little grievances—his so-called ‘inconveniences,’ his charms, all of it.”

Gale nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. And then his lips curled into a wry smile as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I suppose your dilemma is solved, then.”

Confused, you blinked, feeling a twist of dread. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” he said, chuckling, “just that you happened to be projecting that over the tadpole connection. Quite eloquently, I might add. The entire party heard every word by my predictions.”

You froze, horror dawning as you processed what Gale had just said. Every word, you realized, echoing faintly through the magical thread you shared. You dared a glance at the others, only to see Karlach giving you an encouraging thumbs-up and Shadowheart hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Then, to your ultimate mortification, Astarion strolled past, pausing just long enough to catch your eye. A sly grin played on his lips as he gave you a long, lingering look, his gaze glinting with amusement.

“Not to worry, darling,” he murmured, a teasing warmth in his voice, “I have plenty of inconveniences—and a few conveniences—to tell you all about. Shall we start tonight?”

His words sent a rush of heat up your spine, leaving you speechless as he gave a little wave, disappearing down the hallway. Gale patted your shoulder with a grin.

“See?” he said cheerfully. “All handled.”

You were left rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe, knowing that somehow you’d been caught, exposed—and that Astarion was, indeed, fully aware of the fact that your heart belonged to him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll’s presence seemed to have a gravitational pull all its own. Every time he smiled at you, every chivalrous gesture—offering his hand to help you up a steep path, or casually brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face—felt like a dream. A warmth filled your chest, so intense you could hardly look him in the eye, your words dissolving into stammered half-thoughts that trailed into silence. Each interaction left you breathless, embarrassed, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, he noticed how flustered he made you.

Training, however, was another story. Lae’zel was as intense as ever, barely giving you time to catch your breath between strikes. She was quick, sharp, and relentless, and it would have been more manageable—if you could actually focus. But each time she demanded your attention, your eyes kept wandering back to Wyll, who was a few feet away, talking to Shadowheart as he polished his sword. The way he moved, the way he spoke, that disarmingly warm smile…

It was only a matter of time before Lae'zel had enough.

She stepped back, arms crossed, leveling you with a look that could freeze lava.

“You’re distracted. Useless,” she declared, throwing down her sword with an exasperated sigh. “You pine like a hatchling, and it disrupts our sparring.”

You flushed, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but Lae’zel was already stomping off toward Wyll. You moved to intercept her, knowing she was the absolute last person who should reveal any of this. “Wait—Lae’zel, don’t!”

Lae’zel ignored you, her voice booming as she closed in on a bewildered Wyll.

“You,” she pointed at him, “this one wants to share their body with you.”

Wyll blinked, his eyes widening as he looked between you and Lae’zel, clearly trying to make sense of what she’d just said.

“I—what?” He looked at you, a blush rising to his cheeks as he fumbled for words. “I mean, I didn’t—wasn’t aware—”

Mortified, you didn’t think, you just acted, flinging yourself at Lae’zel with a force you hadn’t known you possessed. You tackled her to the ground, landing with a clumsy thud, and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Not…what I meant!” you stammered, trying to laugh it off to Wyll, who was still looking down at the both of you in complete bafflement. “What she means is—uh, we’re just, um, sparring partners! She’s…dramatic.”

Lae’zel raised an eyebrow, and with her typical stoicism, she bit down—hard—on the hand you’d used to cover her mouth. You yelped, jerking your hand back, and Lae’zel smirked, a silent satisfaction in her gaze as she sat up, looking entirely unapologetic.

Wyll was still staring, one eyebrow raised, lips quirking slightly in what looked like a restrained grin.

“I’m… not entirely sure I understand what’s going on here,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement. “But whatever it is, I’m flattered.”

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing your bitten hand, and tried to put together a coherent explanation, but every time you met his gaze, words seemed to fail you.

“Well… right,” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your face as you threw a quick glare at Lae’zel, who simply shrugged, as if completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

Wyll’s expression softened as he watched you struggle to speak, and he smiled gently.

“It’s alright,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you and Lae'zel.”

That simple gesture—his kindness, the warmth in his voice—made you feel as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. You managed a nod, barely holding onto your composure, while he looked at you with that disarming sincerity that always left you reeling.

Lae’zel, watching the exchange with an air of smug victory, dusted herself off. “There. See? Problem solved. Now maybe you’ll stop sparring like a weakling.��

You shot her a glare, but Wyll chuckled softly, meeting your eyes with a spark of curiosity.

“If you ever want to train together,” he said, his voice low and warm, “you need only ask.”

And with that, he gave you a wink, leaving you in a breathless, heart-pounding daze as he walked back to his gear.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Every time you were around Halsin, it was like the ground slipped out from beneath you. His voice, that low, warm rumble, made your heart pound, and every casual touch seemed to ignite sparks across your skin. He was utterly unaware, of course; his gentle smiles and steady hands never betrayed a hint of understanding that he sent you reeling. You were sure that was the only reason you hadn’t completely given yourself away.

So when you returned to camp with an injury—a jagged cut on your arm from a goblin's arrow—you hoped it might go unnoticed. Shadowheart was busy, deep in her meditation as she restored her energy, and you thought you could handle the wound alone. But Jaheira spotted the blood trailing down your arm almost immediately. She arched a brow, her eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and amusement as she approached.

“Let’s have a look,” she said, but as she examined your arm, she shook her head with a soft sigh. “This needs a proper healer. Come on.”

Before you could protest, she’d already begun steering you toward Halsin’s corner of camp. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and a familiar warmth crept up your face. “Jaheira, no, really, I’m fine. It’s not even that deep. You could probably just—”

“Are you afraid of a little attention from the First Druid?” she teased, smirking as you stammered. “If you’re so sure you can handle it alone, why is your face turning as red as a blood hawk?”

You barely managed a protest before she’d called out to Halsin, who looked up from his work, his eyes sharpening with concern the moment he saw the blood seeping through your sleeve.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a blend of calm authority and quiet worry. He rose to meet you, his eyes never leaving the wound as he reached out, guiding you to sit down on a low stool beside him. His hands were warm, gentle but firm, and you felt heat flush up your neck and into your cheeks as he examined the wound.

Jaheira, leaning against a tent post with her arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with an amused glint in her eyes, a smile curving her lips as you struggled to steady your breathing. But Halsin didn’t notice; his focus was fully on your arm, his brow furrowed with concentration as his fingers brushed softly along the edges of the wound, checking its depth.

“It isn’t too deep,” he murmured in his gentle, rumbling voice. “But we don’t want to risk infection. I’ll clean it and make a poultice to help it heal.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the feeling of his hands—steady, reassuring, and just a little too close—sent your mind reeling. “Y-yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.”

Halsin gave you a soft smile, the kind that seemed to reach into your chest and make your heart skip.

“Are you feeling alright otherwise? You look a bit flushed.” His eyes studied your face, brow creased in genuine concern. “Are you feverish?”

You blinked, thrown off by the question, and felt your face grow impossibly hotter. “No! No, not at all. I’m… I’m perfectly fine. Really. Just, um… It’s just… the wound.”

Jaheira couldn’t contain her amusement any longer; she snorted softly and rolled her eyes, muttering, “It’s certainly not the wound that has you blushing.”

You shot her a quick, desperate glare, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying your struggle.

“A shame that our healer here clearly can’t see that particular ailment,” she added, just loud enough for you to hear.

Halsin looked between you and Jaheira, a slight confusion flickering in his eyes before he turned back to you with a gentle, almost affectionate smile. “Well, you should rest nonetheless. Even a small wound can bring on a fever if not treated with care.”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb tracing light circles just above your collarbone as if to soothe you. It was a simple, instinctive gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through you, and you fought the urge to lean into his touch, to linger in the quiet strength he offered.

“Let me just…” His voice was soft, his attention focused on preparing the poultice as he worked with deft hands. But every so often, he’d glance up, catching your gaze with that calm, reassuring smile that made your heart race all over again.

Beside you, Jaheira leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He truly has no idea, does he?”

You felt a flicker of panic, but there was no use hiding it now. You muttered, barely audible, “Not the faintest clue.”

She chuckled, shaking her head with a mix of sympathy and sarcasm. “To be fair, you’re not making it particularly obvious.”

Before you could retort, Halsin returned with the poultice, carefully applying it to your wound with practiced gentleness. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin, his hands steady and warm, sent another wave of nervous energy through you. He worked in silence for a moment, his gaze focused, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

“There,” he said softly, finishing the bandage. “That should hold for now. And I’ll make more of the poultice tonight to ensure it heals properly.”

You managed a shaky nod, trying to form words but only managing a faint, “Th-thank you.”

Halsin’s smile deepened, and he placed a final, reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s my pleasure to help. But if you do start feeling feverish, promise you’ll come to me immediately.”

“Yes. Of course,” you stammered, hardly able to meet his gaze. Jaheira watched you, her smile widening as she shook her head in mock exasperation.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re sick with something,” she muttered, just loud enough for Halsin to hear.

Halsin’s brow furrowed in mild concern, and he tilted his head toward her, curious. “Sick with what, precisely?”

You shot Jaheira a desperate look, but she only shrugged, that teasing glint in her eye.

“Nothing a nice cold dip in the river can't fix.,” she said, her voice laced with amusement as she turned to walk away, leaving you to face Halsin’s warm, questioning gaze.

“If you’re certain you’re well…” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your hand in a final gesture of reassurance before he let go. “But do take it easy tonight. I’ll check in on you later, just to be sure.”

As he stood and walked away, you sat there, still reeling, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. You wanted to stay in that moment forever. Perhaps during his check in later, you would actually do something about it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was actually so cute to write aha, I hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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dubina-dawkins · 2 days ago

Text

WINCHESTER'S PICKUP, INJURIES AND CLUMSY KISSES

~1k words

>you get hurt while hunting with your uncle, John Winchester and his son. Dean can't help but help.

pairing:teen! dean winchester x teen! reader

warnings/notes: basically a really tooth rotting fluff, first love and first kiss trope, vague descriptions of reader's past (like death of their family), few but subtle descriptions of injuries, john winchester mentioned (and i mean he's a real trigger so that's important), gn reader, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

Minnesota. A werewolf hunt. Ordinary case-- boring, in a way. Just had to catch the bastard and shoot it through the heart with silver.

It seemed normal even to you, even though you weren't even an adult yet. Had to grow up early, huh? God, you hated that phrase. It sounded like you were feeling sorry for yourself. And self-pity is weak, very weak! At least that's what your uncle, the hunter who raised you since your family died in a vampire attack taught you.

And besides, you and your uncle weren't alone on this case, but with "family friends" - the Winchesters. Were they considered family friends if every time John needed help hunting and Dean was busy, your youngest son, Sam, was left at your and your uncle's house? Hell if I know! But at least you got a good memory of that family. And the older son's face, his cocky grin, his brilliant green eyes, his perfect nose and distinct freckles...it was all getting to your throat.

But damn it, it had to be some old, abandoned house. Protruding nails, scattered things, wood that left splinters in fingers - it would be dangerous here, even in daylight, without the risk of having your heart eaten...and when there was that risk, every step was tense.

Especially when the "hunted object" - you tried not to think of them as people, or else it became too hard to hunt - had run right into your path. The rumble of falling things, the pop of missed shots. This werewolf was physically strong and dexterous, so it was hard.

Like when he threw you into the wall and some protruding, crooked, rusty nail pierced your shoulder. It's okay, we've been through worse injuries, you'd think. Until Dean ran up to you, completely ignoring his father's scolding.

"Hey, are you okay? Ooh..." He seemed to swear, but it was quiet, a whisper he didn't want his father to hear. Dean sharply threw your arm, whose shoulder wasn't injured, over his neck and lifted you up, not listening to any of your complaints about not needing help.

"Dad's gonna kill you- sshhiit..." You hissed as he pressed his shirt, previously hanging over his black T-shirt, against your shoulder, treating the wound. The fabric was soaked with whiskey.

Hearing your sounds of pain, Dean lifts his emerald eyes from your wound to your face. His gaze is piteous, concerned, and his thick lashes glisten in the moonlight.

He was too handsome. Objectively, of course.

"Like the first time I'm going to get a punch from him... All right?" He squeezes your healthy shoulder in the palm of his hand, then puts his hand on the collar of your t-shirt, and...stops. "I... Can you slip your arm out of your sleeve?"

All his arrogance evaporated, there wasn't a particle of it in the air. And it was cute.

"You want me to take my clothes off? Pervert," you laugh, but your face immediately frowns as you raise your arm. Dean doesn't waste a second and starts helping you.

And God, the touch of his somehow warm fingers - there was a cool breeze outside, by the way - send shivers down your spine, making you dizzy. But you don't think about it. At least you're trying.

A low whimper escaped your lips as he tightened a piece of cloth, torn from your shirt and soaked in alcohol, on your wound. Maybe it wasn't unusual, but it still hurt.

"You're gonna stay here, you hear me? There's no way in hell you're going to go fight that big guy again right now. I won't let you," Dean said, glancing outside his dad's pickup window. His dad and your uncle were still in the house with a werewolf, apparently. You two could have been alone...for a little while. But of course that didn't excite you at all. You and Dean were just friends, right? Hunting bros. Nothing more.

And the fact that your gaze fell to his lips, then to his cheeks, covered with freckles, sharp cheekbones, ash-black long lashes, brilliant green eyes.... It meant nothing. At all.

"Whatever you say, sir," you quipped, rubbing the wound under the piece of cloth with your hand. Dean just gently pulled your hand away, "Don't make it worse for yourself, buddy." And oh, his tone is so gravelly. You're absolutely done.

But he won't let go of your hand. And you don't want to pull away.

His green eyes came up to your face, and he suddenly just froze, as if he couldn't look away. Dean stared at you as if you were the most brilliant and expensive gem, as if you were a living angel he hadn't believed in for a long time.... Like something unearthly. It would be foolish not to admit that you looked at him the same way.

Dean squeezed your hand lightly, and slowly - yes, very unusual for Dean Winchester to do something slowly - moved closer, but in a friendly way for now. In the same second, however, he remembered who he was, and his hand went up to your neck - still tentatively, of course... "Listen, buddy-..."

"Dean, please..."

And that did it. Dean's one word was enough for him to press his lips lightly against yours. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't rough, he didn't even let himself try to deepen the kiss. His lips only phantomly touched yours, guiding you, somehow even mentoring you, gently (still unusual for Dean Winchester himself!). His lips were matte, a little dry, but damn it, you liked it better than the sweetest meals of your life.

He pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans into you again. You're so cooked.

Dean can't help but marvel at your ineptitude at kissing- God, he could have sworn it made it the best kiss of his life. His lips move hotter, feistier, more needy, but still tentative, dipping down a little to leave a few quick nibbles on your chin and on your jaw--

Until you start hearing John and your uncle's voices outside. Oh, God, not now!

"Sorry, baby, sorry-" the nickname slides off his tongue so tenderly, lovingly, as he quickly pulls moves away from you.

Because after today, the chance of Winchester allowing you to see Dean earlier than after few months was close to zero.

a/n: i needed to think about little dean that haven't experienced hell already (on s4 currently yaaay). young jensen on header only because i can't think of teen dean looking as original cast actor for this role. and because i love young jensen. like really much. think im starting to get a lil' bit too much obsessed with dean

#supernatural #spn #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural fluff #writers on tumblr

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toranoya · 10 hours ago

Text

Adam sat on the edge of her bed, his wings folding close as he exhaled deeply. “Kari,” he began softly, his voice uncharacteristically tender, “I get it. You want to help. You’ve got this crazy, burning need to fix everything, to save everyone. It’s a good thing—it really is—but you’re just one kid. One stubborn, scrappy, badass, loud-mouthed kid with more heart than sense.”

He reached out, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. “But here’s the thing: you can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Pushing yourself too hard, running straight into the fire without thinking, it’s just gonna get you killed. And then? No one benefits. Not Moxxie, not me, not the people you want to save.”

Adam’s tone shifted slightly, a tinge of regret slipping through. “As for Moxxie… Look, I liked the guy. For a shitty little Imp, he wasn’t half bad. Got a good head on his shoulders, even if it’s a little big for his body.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I hope he’s dead.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “And I mean dead dead, not shambling-around-like-one-of-those-zombies dead. No one deserves to go out like that. Least of all him.”

Adam leaned back, looking at her seriously. “You did what you could. You’re still doing what you can. But sometimes, helping doesn’t mean running into the fray right now. Sometimes it means sitting still, fortifying your spot, and living to fight another day. You’ve got a good head, Kari. Use it. We’ll find Moxxie if we can, but right now, you’ve gotta focus on staying alive and sane.”

He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “That’s not giving up. That’s strategy.”

#rp #non i11 #temp char #tadam #karikitdemonrp #p-kariangel

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daisymbin · 2 days ago

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Mingyu x fem!reader

Angst - 18. "i thought you were different." with reader saying that.

Also happy ending pleeeeaaase 🥺👉👈

thank you for requesting! 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

angst prompt #18: "I thought you were different."

you sat on the edge of the couch, arms tightly crossed as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions racing through you. mingyu stood a few steps away, looking like he was caught in a storm, his expression somewhere between panic and heartbreak.

“it wasn’t what it looked like,” he started, his voice trembling. “please, baby. you have to believe me.”

you let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the tense silence. “believe you? mingyu, i saw you with her. do you even know what that feels like for me?” your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded.

"baby, i wasn’t—it wasn’t like that,” he stammered, taking a hesitant step forward. “she’s just a friend. she was crying about her boyfriend, and i was just trying to comfort her.”

you shook your head, the image of him leaning close to another girl still fresh in your mind. “you don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i’ve been here before. i’ve seen this before, mingyu. my ex…” your words faltered as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “my ex used to do the same thing. he’d tell me it was nothing, just a friend. and the whole time, he was—” your breath hitched as the painful memories resurfaced. "I thought you were different," you whispered timidly, mingyu doesn't miss the disappointment and heartbreak in your voice.

mingyu’s face crumpled as he took in your words. “sweetheart…” his voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “you think i’m like him?” his words were soft, but the hurt behind them was unmistakable.

“i don’t know what to think,” you admitted, your hands gripping your arms tighter as if to shield yourself from the pain. “when i saw you with her, it felt like i was right back there again. it felt like—like i wasn’t enough. like i never will be.”

“don’t say that.” mingyu’s voice broke, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of you, his hands reaching for yours but stopping just short, unsure if you’d let him touch you. “baby, you’re everything to me. everything. how could you even think—” his voice cracked, and he dropped his head, his shoulders trembling.

you looked down at him, his vulnerability catching you off guard. he wasn’t angry. he wasn’t defensive. he was hurt—deeply hurt—and it made your chest ache in a way that felt unbearable.

“i know what he did to you,” mingyu continued, his voice barely audible. “i know how much he hurt you. and it kills me that you’d think i could ever… that you’d see me like that.” he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, glassy with unshed tears. “do you really think i could do that to you? to us?”

you hesitated, his words slowly sinking in. the mingyu you knew wasn’t like that. he wasn’t manipulative, or mean, or sneaky, or cruel. he was open, loving, and kind, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. you’d let your fears and insecurities cloud the truth, and now you could see how much it had hurt him. because mingyu would never intentionally hurt you.

“mingyu, i—” your voice faltered as you tried to find the words. “i don’t think you’re like him. i just… i got scared. i saw you with her, and it felt so familiar, and i panicked.” tears of vulnerability now stream down your face.

his hands finally found yours, and when you didn’t pull away, he clung to them like a lifeline. “i understand,” he said softly. “i just… i don’t ever want you to doubt how much you mean to me. you’re not just someone to me, my love. you’re it. you’re everything.”

the sincerity in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes, made the remaining walls around your heart crumble. slowly, you nodded, your grip on his hands tightening. “i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i shouldn’t have assumed the worst. i should’ve talked to you.”

“no, don't apologise," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “i should have been more aware, i should have been my careful especially knowing what you’ve been through, and i hate that i made you feel like this. but i promise, i’d never hurt you like that. i just couldn’t.” his hand reach out shakily to wipe your tears away.

"I trust you,"

and that was all mingyu needed, the relief that washed over mingyu’s face was immediate and overwhelming. he let out a breath he didnt know he had been holding, and his hands moved to cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. “thank you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “thank you for trusting me.”

“can we… can we just go to bed now?” he asked, his voice soft and almost shy. “i really want need to hold you.”

your chest tightened at his words, and you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered.

he stood up, pulling you gently to your feet and wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you feel safe, cherished. as he led you to the bedroom, you felt the weight of the misunderstanding lift, replaced by the steady warmth of his love.

when you finally settled into bed, mingyu pulled you close, his arms tight around your waist and his face buried in your hair. “i love you,” he murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion but full of certainty. “so much.”

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing soft patterns on his arm.

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secriden · 2 days ago

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THK's Fadel is such a character of contradictions and curiosities:

He's so casual about the assassination stuff: look at the careless, almost silly way the guns are 'disguised'; the nonchalant way he's carrying himself right before he kills.

But then look at the precision and care he's taking while prepping tomatoes for his cover job. The way he leans down to salt the meat for his burger - he's taking it incredibly seriously.

He takes the time to chide Style about road safety even whilst trying desperately to get away as soon as possible because he literally has murder evidence in his car.

The whole assassin thing is a family business that has "ethical reasons", but is this a cause he has chosen, genuinely, for himself...

...or is it just what he tells himself to make it easier to keep living this life because he knows there's no escape?

Was this a lesson learned in theory from their mother, or from painful experience? Who hurt you, baby boy? Could it be related to the (knife?) wound on his chest (heart)?

For someone who supposedly just wants to get rid of Style, he sure lets Style get close and deliberately gets very handsy with him. Not to mention it was Fadel that sought Style out first after their initial encounter. Was Style's the only auto shop he could go to? I'd assume money isn't actually an issue for them.

I love that the show makes it clear that he loves Bison and is genuinely worried for him. The show sets up Bison to be too trusting but also naive and impulsive (Bringing a loaded gun to karaoke? Really, Bison?), so Fadel's worry and protectiveness may well be warranted. And even then, for all of Fadel's strictness, he gives in to Bison a lot and the way Bison speaks in that whiney pleading tone hints that he knows he's got his older brother wrapped around his finger. He's Katherina, but they're signposting why.

He fascinates me on so many levels and I can't wait to learn more about him. <3

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #fadel #fadelstyle #ok for sure part of it is that joong looks so fucking hot in this episode #but there's undercurrents that i'm very excited to see more of #i also adore that fadel and kant have their love for their little brothers as something in common #joong archen #rambles about shows i'm watching #<my posts>

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ur-sick-and-married · 3 days ago

Text

NIGHTMARE

(Farm Ellie Williams x reader)

TW: violence, past trauma, blood, panic

SUMMARY: Ellie wakes you up from a nightmare.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m adding to the collection of Ellie Williams fluff because there is not enough.

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

“Hey! Babe! Wake up!”

Your eyes snapped open. For a moment, you panicked, thrashing and yelping in fear. You had barely heard your girlfriend. You were hyperventilating, your heart beating so fast.

Your movements were suddenly restricted. You felt someone on top of you, which made you scream, until Ellie’s face popped into your line of vision. There weren't bruises, blood, or dirt on her skin, like there seemingly just had been. That’s when you realized you’d had a nightmare. Your screams turned into quiet sobs.

“Shh,” Ellie cooed, slightly breathless. “It’s me, it’s Ellie. You’re safe, I’m safe, I promise.”

You started to catch your breath, as did she.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered after a minute.

“Don’t apologize, honey,” She said softly. “Please don’t. You can’t help it.”

She gently wiped your tears, watching you with concern.

“What happened in this one?” She asked.

“We were…in Seattle…” You explained shakily. “There were a lot of infected, and-and I couldn’t get them off you, and then more of them came after me-“

“Okay, okay,” She said quickly. “I understand. Deep breaths, baby. Your gonna hyperventilate.”

She smoothed your hair back while you took those breaths. You were sweating, and shaking, your whole body wracked with tension. Those dreams always scared you. They took you right back to the months right after Joel Miller had died, which caused Ellie to go on a killing spree. Of course, you didn’t let her go alone. The process traumatized you both, but you get kept each other sane.

Now, you lived on a very secure farm, yet these dreams made you uneasy.

Ellie layed down beside you, and pulled you into her. She kept one hand on your head, holding you to her chest and playing with your hair, while the other rubbed your back. You were surrounded by her, her scent, her warmth, her protection. In her arms, you felt a bit less paranoid.

“That hasn’t happened in a while…” She muttered, her face buried in your hair.

“Tommy was telling me about patrol the other day…” You whispered. “I shouldn’t have let him.”

“Damn Tommy.” She grumbled.

It was quiet again. You thought she was falling asleep, until she started talking.

“I hate that…you have these dreams.” She sighed.

You shrugged. There was really nothing either of you could do for the nightmares, besides cuddle up afterwards.

“It’s my fault that you get them.” She said quietly.

“Ellie, don’t start-“ You tried to tell her.

“No, listen to me.” She interrupted. “This wouldn’t happen if I had gone to Seattle alone. I’ve…I’ve scarred you, and I’m sorry.”

“Ellie…” You took her face in your hands. “Don’t say sorry. I don’t regret going with you, and I don’t think I ever will. I’m glad I was there.”

She bit her lip. She’d always feel guilty, but knowing this helped.

She let out a breath, and murmured, “Alright…you wanna go back to sleep?”

You hesitated. You couldn’t handle another dream, not that night.

“I’ll keep you safe, baby.” She said softly. “If you get twitchy, I’ll wake you up.”

You gave in, starting to feel sleepy.

She held you as close as possible, letting you nuzzle into her chest. Your eyes got heavier and heavier as she sung to you. You were asleep before you knew it.

#ellie willams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou #tlou part 2 #ellie x you

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fairytsuk1 · 1 day ago

Text

no caller id | (s)

apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology

prompt: ghostface, exhibition/voyeurism, stalking

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 6.1k

warnings: scream!au, mentions of murder and violence, stalking, exhibition and voyeurisms, stockholm syndrome, friends to lovers, masturbation, phone sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, condom usage

There were few things you and Alex disagreed on. You had your moments, sure, but you were thick as thieves. Anyone and everyone could see that. You were his, and he was yours, “it’s totally not romantic, just platonic companionship!”

So, you got along well. Horror movies, though… That was one unfortunate, disagreeable thing between you two. You would go all in with the popcorn and the candy and top it off with a fuzzy blanket draped over your form. Alex would signify his leave the minute you got comfortable before acquiescing and sitting next to you, face anxious and full of fear as he sat still.

He just wasn’t the type of person to indulge in such media. That’s why seeing Alex so enthralled in the Ghostface killings happening around town was so utterly shocking. He flips his phone towards you, and you’re graced with gory crime scene photos and a news article, “Alex! I don’t wanna see that.”

Alex sighs and nods before showing you another photo as he leans across your countertops. He’d come over for a late-night study session, but after too many Celsius drinks, it was safe to say that you were not going to pass your exam.

“This happened right by your dorm! You should see, you’ve gotta stay safe with that killer out there.”

He says it in the midst of your kitchen, wearing your too-big t-shirt and too-big sweatpants. He was fretting over you. It’s so domestic, your heart squeezes at the fond way he gazes at you; he’s warmth and love that tastes like the finest wine. You couldn’t get too distracted admiring the dotted freckles on his cheeks and wisps of dark hair, no. That wasn’t platonic of you. You shake your head, “I don’t care. I just don’t wanna get freaked out by that stuff.”

Alex hums and scrolls some more. He’s withholding, and your fingers come to poke at his ribs, “what?”

“You probably don’t want to know who died then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him an incredulous look with raised eyebrows. Alex makes a face and looks away before snapping back to look at you. He hems and haws before the words slip past his lips faster than he can stand them.

“Carlos Rodriguez, ring a bell? Says here he was dismembered walking home–”

“Oh god! Stop, that’s…” horrifying.

“That was the guy you went on a date with,” he pops a grape into his mouth like it was the most casual thing in the world, “right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was.”

He observes you for a moment. Your eyes look guilty, and he can’t place why. It makes something inside of him twinge. He’s rounding the counter in seconds and wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a protective embrace. Alex smells like warm musk, spicy with a hint of cinnamon. You instinctively curl towards him and bury your face in his neck. He was always comforting.

Alex preens when you go in for the hug, feeling your chest squish against his as he pulls you close to him, “it’s alright. He’s in a better place now! You have me; I’ll keep you safe.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. As if Ghostface would come after the two of you. You try not to hone in on his ‘you have me.’ He was considerate of your feelings and wanted to make you feel safe. Your heart pitter-patters in your chest. His hand rubs small circles on your back, and you shudder, pressing closer to his warmth.

You both stay like that. Alex keeps you enveloped within him for as long as he can, purring soft comforts into the shell of your ear. His lips brush against the sensitive skin before he picks you up into his arms and drags you to the couch.

“Come on. It’s movie night!”

It doesn’t really leave your mind, though, even as you sidle up close to Alex while re-watching your favorite movies.

“And you’ve known Alex for how long?”

A gaggle of your friends sit around your dorm, Christina being the first to start the interrogation. It’d been a week since Carlos had been killed, and you’d been spending all your time with Alex. It was for safety, you said. It’s just so nothing happens, you reiterated. Your friends knew better.

“Five years? Six?”

“Oh my god! He wants to date you,” Imane exclaims. “It’s obvious, he buys your lunch, you guys cuddle: you just need to man up!”

“Woman up,” Noah emphasizes before sipping on his beer. “But I agree, he’s got it bad for you.”

You sit in the center with flushed cheeks, “we’re just friends, guys!”

“Friends who wanna fuck,” Christina adds with a laugh.

“But isn’t it suspicious he hasn’t made a move yet? Like, what’s he waiting for?”

“Guys, come on. He’s not bad or suspicious or anything! He’s just shy…”

You defend your man, but Noah blurts out the unthinkable. The inconceivable.

“Maybe he’s Ghostface!”

The silence was deafening against your speakers, humming a tune of bedroom pop; you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. You all pin Noah with a deep stare. How could he say that?

“That’s not funny, Noah.”

“I’m not saying anything! I’m just saying maybe he doesn’t want to date you because he’s too busy chopping up people’s bodies or something.”

“Noah! Enough,” you cry with hands covering your ears. “I’m not listening to you! I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Listennn, I like the guy. Trust-wise? He’s on my list.”

What if he was? Can you tell? You’re not sure, and you think about it for a while. There was something about the Ghostface persona that you’d initially joked about being hot, but that was before it hit so close to home. You were unsure and unsettled. Alex couldn’t be capable of something so horrid. He was your best friend and, admittedly, your crush. It just wasn’t believable.

You’re stuck in your head for the rest of the kickback. Alex had said he couldn’t come; he was “swamped with homework.” It wasn’t exactly believable since you shared a Google Calendar together: even more definitive proof of you two toeing the line between friends and lovers, a sentiment echoed by your friend group.

The sun sets into an inky black night, and your friends are filed out of the room. You’re left alone and freezing. A hot shower might do you some good. You take your time. The bathroom fills with its warm steam as you turn the knob and let your clothes drop one by one. Your phone rings. Your wrist is dampened from the brief spray of water, pulling out your arm to decline the call.

They call again, and you’re huffing as you swing your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a gritty voice filters through and purrs your name. “Getting ready for bed?”

You know in your heart who it is. That telltale voice, the way he repeated your name… Ghostface had asked you a question, and your legs tremble as your mouth gapes, “it’s in your best interest to answer.”

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you squeak out.

“That’s nice. I like your panties. Teddy bears? How cute.”

“How do you know that?”

Your voice is firm, yet its slightest wobble makes Ghostface chuckle. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible. The shower drips and sputters in the background as your breathing grows heavier. It was impossible.

“Let’s play a game. Tell me your favorite scary movie.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes, “I don’t want to.”

“You have to. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don’t know! Please, I don’t–”

“I’m not gonna kill you, so just answer the fucking question, pretty girl.”

Rivulets of tears stream down your cheeks as you choke out an answer. The panic and sickening arousal courses through you. He kept complimenting you, making you feel all gooey inside, all while the threat of his power loomed over you like a fog that grew thicker every moment you stood in fear. He grew on your fear, he devoured it whole.

“I like the Chucky movies.”

Ghostface laughs, and it’s so familiar, but then he’s going from joyful to mad as he teases you over the phone.

“Ah, with the doll? Not as big of a fan of me, hmm?”

“Y-You’re scaring me,” you whisper, phone clenched in your fist. “What do you want from me?”

There’s a deep pause before he continues.

“I just wanted to play with you before bed. You should show yourself off more,” he hums and then sighs. “Enjoy the shower, pretty.”

He can’t help but add, “you don’t know what you do to me.”

Click. Ghostface hangs up, and your dreadful face stares back at you in the mirror. Were you meant to feel slick between your thighs as Ghostface lulled sweet compliments towards your body? No, it was wrong! It was so bad that you had to gnaw on your lip to prevent yourself from pressing the “call back” button.

Water streams down your forehead and nose, pooling at your feet before sliding down the drain. Your hands run through your soaked strands with a slight tremble as you sniffle, wondering if that murderer stands under a similar stream of water to watch crimson flow down the drain. You can’t get it out of your head as you towel off and slip on silky pajamas. Your heavy body sinks into the covers, and you stare at the ceiling. It’s almost on instinct for you to reach over with a huff and pull up Alex’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” you murmur as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Will you come over?”

You can hear him yawn, and you’re quick to apologize even as he waves you off, “don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Barely ten minutes pass by before a gentle knock sounds at your door. There’s a stream of light as he enters that shines and is then blown out when he closes the door behind him.

Alex tiptoes in, toeing his shoes off by the door, “I’m here.”

You’re already breathing heavily and scooting over to give him more room. Alex looks at your sleepy eyes that stare back at him in the dark, joining you and slipping under your fluffy duvet to get close to you. You aren’t touching, but you’re so damn close. You need him closer, and the need to feel his skin against yours is overwhelming your entire being.

“Can we cuddle?”

Alex adjusts with his head on his hand, arm bent, and lying on your pillow as you snuggle a little closer, “yeah. C’mere.”

A buff arm wraps around your figure, and it’s heavenly. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his freshly showered scent, making you instantly relax in his arms. Your feet tangle with his, and he lets out a soft hiss at the cool feeling of your toes against his ankles. You both fall asleep, tangled in soft breaths, and the comfort of muscle looped around you. As you dream of nothingness, it then turns into something hapless.

“...Alex?”

Your voice is dreamy and wispy. You can hardly speak out, let alone yell out. Ghostface and Alex sit facing each other, and you call louder, eyes fluttering and blurring as you draw closer. You know it’s a dream, but you can’t help but take it as fact, as reality.

“What are you doing?”

They both turn towards you, Ghostface’s mask shaped in a long, menacing grin as he tilts his head towards you. Blood starts seeping from the edges of the mask and runs down its contours as it continues staring into your soul. You turn towards Alex, horrified to see him with a sickening grin as ruby red drops splatter on his face, “what’s wrong?”

There’s no reply as they both reach for you in a desperate bid to make you join whatever fucked-up seated circle they were reveling in. Revelling. That was the reason Alex was smiling. You awake with a gasping start.

It’s hard to focus on classes, on homework, on your relationships. You’d be holed up in libraries and study rooms with your ringer on in case another killing happened. They did happen, two in the same week. You couldn’t stop thinking, wondering if he’d sweet-talked his victims before brutally shoving the knife in deep till the fight leaked out of them. Did he call them, too?

You’d have told anyone, but there was no one to tell. Your friends would encourage you to tell the police, and there was no excuse for hiding something as crucial as a phone call from Ghostface. You’d be vilified within seconds. You couldn’t tell Alex, and it wasn’t even your fault. Alex had been distant. Busy, he’d said. Liar, you bit back.

He blew you off on the days you typically get lunch. He packed his bag up quickly as he bid you goodbye. The eye bags on his face only got darker and deeper, you were feeling worried. Maybe he was just as affected by the killings as you were. Just as affected by Ghostface as you were. It was still hurtful.

It hurt even more, knowing that your heart would beat rabbit fast at the thought of him. It was clear now, crystal. You liked Alex; you only wanted Alex. You thought this was mutual. You cuddled, were close, and shared your first kiss at a dumb high school party. Maybe he didn’t feel the same or care about your crestfallen expression as he urged ahead to leave class early.

You tried to repeat to yourself that he was just busy. Though you were unaware of it in his absence, Ghostface had you right where he wanted you. Open, pliable and all his. The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Ghostface elongates your name, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. “How are you?”

You should just hang up. You shouldn’t even entertain it, he needed to leave you alone. You press the phone closer to your ear.

“Please, stop calling me!”

“Mmm, no. I want to talk to you. Don’t deny me.”

“You just wanna talk because you’re a freak,” you retort and sit up in bed with your hands angrily fisting the sheets. “Leave me alone.”

“Freak?”

Ghostface bursts into a peal of deep laughter. It’s mocking, and you wonder if he’s watching you.

“The only freak here is you refusing to hang up the phone.”

“I-I’m not refusing! I’ll hang up right now–”

“But you won’t,” he interjects quickly. “I know you won’t.”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I’ll call the police!”

“I know you won’t do that, either.”

He’s right. You’re too stricken and impulsive, fighting every word he says with a monologue. Your teeth worry your lips as you take a deep breath, “are you watching me right now? Like in the shower?”

“Yes,” his breathing seems deeper. “I’m watching you right now. You look fantastic.”

“I’m just in my pajamas.”

“I like how they look.”

You shouldn’t indulge in this any longer. It was so wrong, and you were making yourself so vulnerable. Socked feet cross as you turn to glance out your window; there’s nothing there.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

A hand that has a mind of its own comes to the hem of your shirt. The mingled breaths between you two nearly echo on the call, and you’re slipping a hand under the cotton to touch your stomach.

“That’s a nice sight,” and there’s a rustling of fabric as he seemingly shifts positions. “What do you think you’re doing, hmm?”

“Testing you. If you were gonna kill me, you would’ve done it when I was in the shower.”

“I’m not so cliché.”

“Really? I beg to differ,” and you’re not sure where the confidence comes to set your phone down and peel your top off from your body.

Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air. You sit with your chest exposed and a rapid heartbeat, quickly putting the phone to your ear just to catch the briefest groan, “are you still there?”

“Of course. Take off your shorts.”

His command makes you hesitate. Were you really going to go through with this? Ghostface’s voice crackles in the still air, “don’t be shy.”

The drawstring is undone in seconds, loose fabric slipping down your thighs to your ankles before you unceremoniously kick them away.

“There, I did it,” you whisper as if someone was listening to your debauched call. There’s a long stretch of silence and rustling. “Hello?”

“You look really sexy like this,” he whispers in a breathy tone.

If you listen even closer, the wet squelch of him fisting his cock is obvious. Your hand starts at your collarbone and dips to squeeze your tits, “aah…!”

“Play with them, let me see.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s watching you from God knows where; your eyes slip closed as pathetic mewls escape your lips with every grope of your fingers.

“A-Ah, fuck,” you whisper before laying back to let another hand follow the curve of your sternum to the flat of your tummy. Ghostface openly moans when your manicure nails brush against your waistband. He moves his hand faster; you’re intoxicated by every ‘thwip’ of his fist as he jerks off.

“I wish I could touch,” his grunts echo, and he teases himself lewdly with his thumb running over his leaky slit. “I-I’ll fuck you so good.”

Your clit is throbbing when you finally start rubbing pathetic little circles. Writhing, your lips part to breathily whine out, “Ghostfaceee!”

“Ohmy, fuck. Put them inside. Fuck yourself, pretty.”

It’s easy to do what he says, your whole greedily sucks your fingers in deep. Your hand tweaks your nipple while your toes dig into your plush bed, “fffuck me! Oh my god, feels so good!”

“Gonna blow my load all over you—ngh, shit. I can’t wait to touch you for real. Yeah, yeah; fuck. Soak ’em for me.”

Ghostface’s rambling spurs you on, and your fingers rub right against that spongy spot that makes you convulse and gush all over your hand.

“Oh, fuuuck!”

Your face presses hard into the pillows as he cums. You could imagine his hips popping up as he came all over his knuckles. A few minutes pass, and the only thing audible is your mingling breath while you both come down from your eyes.

The phone is pressed to your ear as you eagerly ask if he’s still there.

“I am,” he says slowly. “Have a good night.”

“W-Wait!”

You call back several times, but they all go unanswered. He leaves you spoiled and naked in bed with a slick drying on your inner thighs.

The post-nut clarity left you sleepless and wondering if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The guilt wears down on you like a weighted blanket; every square inch of your body can’t stop imagining the voice, and the guilt coats you in another heavy layer of shame. You try to fight back, but the fabric is never-ending, and you’re useless against its power.

You had to tell someone. Anyone. It has to be Alex; no one else needs to know anything other than him.

[you]: hey

[you]: will you come over?

[you]: need to talk to you

[alex]: be there in a few <3

The heart makes you smile. Locking your phone and setting it aside, you tug your knees to your chest in waiting. How would you tell him? More like admitting to him since you were undoubtedly hiding this fact of admiration because it was so shameful and wrong. Alex knocks lightly on your door, and your voice is shaky when you call, “come in!”

He looks calm, if a bit confused. Alex’s eyes scan you before sitting beside you on your plush bed. He always looks at you with those amber eyes that show pure devotion.

“What’s got you all wound up, huh?”

A gentle hand releases your knees from your embrace, Alex’s arm slinking past the back of your neck to cup you close by the shoulder. You tuck yourself into his side with ease. He hums for a bit, rousing you with a shake.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t know. Something happened.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes! I’m okay,” you take a deep breath, and your head tilts up to peer at him with anxious eyes. “Just don’t freak out that bad, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, only maintaining eye contact as his thumb rubs circles into your soft skin.

“Ghostface… called me. We had a conversation.”

“...What?”

He says your name with a laugh, “you probably just got prank called!”

“No, Alex. I’m serious! Please,” you grab his shirt and tug him so close that your noses brush. “I talked to Ghostface, seriously. You need to believe me.”

“How do you even know it was really him, hm?”

Oh, you knew. The telltaletelltale scratchy voice. The deep, mirthy laugh. How he coaxed you to orgasm through simple words of, “you can go harder than that; I’ve seen you.”

“I-I just know. It was him, he was stalking me.”

“Okay… so Ghostface is coming after you?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning! I guess so,” you bury your face into his beauty mark-dotted neck. “I don’t know what to do. What if he’s just waiting to kill me?”

“No way. He’d be stupid, you already told me. I’m, like, almost a witness to it.”

That was true. Now that Alex knew if anything happened… you’d have someone to back you up. You squeeze him in gratefulness.

“Then what should I do? Hire a bodyguard!?”

“I don’t think you have bodyguard money,” he teases. “But I can always walk with you anywhere, everywhere. And what if–no, never mind.”

“Alex, you need to tell me everything you’re thinking,” you urge.

He looks apprehensive, teeth tugging his lip between them to gnaw at the sensitive skin. He looks all around your room, his eyes landing on a framed photo of the two of you at an amusement park. Alex is grinning while holding a peace sign; your hair flies wildly and without abandon as the sun shines down on you two, “what if we found a way to catch him? You know, set a bait.”

Your face twists up immediately.

“Bait? I’d be the bait! This is a horrible idea–”

“Hear me out! I’d be waiting there and see if he shows up. You could make sure it’s obvious you’re alone. Ghostface comes, I tackle him, and boom! We call the police, and he’s finally gonna be held accountable.”

Alex eyes you, “what do you say?”

It was such a dumb idea. Every part of you screaming to lock the door and shut the blinds. But you don’t. Alex texts you periodically to check in, but the plan was just an unsafe waste of time for a while. But your phone rings at half past eleven.

“...Hello?”

“Hiya,” he croons your name, and your blood runs cold.

“I’m hanging up!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I’ll gut Alex myself.

You whimper, “I don’t want to die!”

“Then play a game with me. How about warmer or colder?”

It gives you a sickening pause. You held Alex and your own life in the palm of your hands, the threat of losing what means most to you evident. Your valued life and love would be lost through the gaps of your fingers like rivulets of clear water. You stand.

You had to be brave for both of you.

“Are you in my apartment?”

“Now, you’re playing,” and he chuckles over the phone.

A thick gulp sticks in your throat as you swallow. Something takes you to the kitchen where you peer around the corner to gaze into the yellow-lighted tiles and counters filled to the brim with your things, “colder.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Ghostface has no reply. You move away from the kitchen, soft steps padding against the ground like a knowing prey animal. You glance at the living room, eyes scanning for a Ghostface-shaped hiding spot.

“Warmer,” his voice lulls, and he sounds so fucking amused that it makes your heart clench.

“Where’s Alex?”

Ghostface has no reply, and you frustratedly groan at him over the phone, “watch your tone.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re bratty today, hm? All wound up over Alex?”

“Just stop talking about him!”

It makes warmth spread all past your cheeks and ears. You venture forward and stare at the looming hallway before you. Finally, you registered the tremble in your knees as they knocked against each other.

“Hot.”

Your hall closet stares menacingly at you, and your stomach drops. You got to turn, but his voice commands you to stop, “freezing!”

There’s a shake in your lip as your ears fill with salty tears that threaten to spill over onto your cheeks. You blink them away and take step by step closer. Breathing grows heavy and restricted before you’re standing before the hall closet.

“You’re on fire.”

The door is yanked open forcefully, revealing beige and white towels with silk sheets. There was no one there. He lied! Only then, does Ghostface leap from your bedroom door to wrap his arms around you from behind. You try to scream, but a gloved hand slots easily over your mouth as he begins to tug you.

You kick and scream and cry like a petulant child as you fight with all your power. He doesn’t seem all that interested in your pleas. He only grunts softly as you land whack upon whack on him. However, he’s undeterred as he hoists you up like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

“No! No, lemme go! Let. Me. Go!”

“Come on,” he drawls your name as he lays you flat and helpless on your back against the couch.

He easily fits over you and pins your wrists to the fluff of the furniture. The two of you stare at each other, and you’re panting wildly with fear and adrenaline. Ghostface adjusts to straddle you, sinking down till his hips are flush against yours.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“A-About what?”

“Fucking me. I know you have, you wanna know how I know?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just–”

The mask is ripped away to reveal a harsh, shocking truth. It’s Alex, sweaty with matted hair that sticks to his forehead. You nearly go limp from the shock and stress as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, “don’t shy away from me, now. You weren’t like this earlier.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand! W-What’s going on, ‘lex?”

You murmur his nickname desperately, watching as he gnaws on his plush bottom lip. His lip trembles as he peers at you, his hands loosening their grip on your wrists. You wiggle a hand free and wrap it around his shoulders, your hand splaying flat against his back and holding him protectively, “but why?”

“I needed you,” he croaks. “I needed you to realize you want me.”

He starts nosing at your neck, lips planting gentle kisses on the smooth expanse of your throat. A weak whine rises and dies from your lips.

“Alex, I–wait, this is!I–”

“What you’ve been craving, right? What you’ve been needing.”

He sucks on your pulse point, and you arch lewdly into his all-encompassing black robes. He’s sticky with spit as he collides the two of you together into a heady kiss.

It’s all you’ve been wanting, but it’s all the wrong circumstances. He presses with such need into you, such desperation; your mouth slips open wider to tangle with his syrupy tongue.

“That’s it,” he huffs and lightly rocks his bulge against your sweatpants.

He’s so hard, you can feel him shudder as he presses forward again to lightly hump against you.

“Wanted to just have you all to myself.”

He joins you once again to heavily make out, both of you growing more and more eager by the second. You bury yourself within him, his hand groping your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Alex tugs your earlobe with his teeth. “Every time we cuddled, hugged… I just wanted to fuck you to tears.”

It makes such a hot moan escape, your toes curling as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yes, I needed you more than I could stand!”

Alex’s hands are eager as they skim your stomach to reveal more of your glowing skin. He bites his lip in anticipation, observing as the shirt reveals your perky tits; he can’t help but latch his mouth to your budding nipple and suck.

“Oh, fuuck. Alex, shit.”

“Feels good, right? Mmm, love how these feel.”

He grins before diving in and peppering love bites and suckles along your sensitive skin. Buff arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer, teeth grazing the underside of your tit; he laves a dark mark and pulls away with a wide smirk.

You realize Alex’s clothing is still on. You’re tugging his robes up the minute your eyes are able to focus–he was a god with his tongue, and you needed it more than just toying with your boobs.

“You need to take this, ngh, off.”

“Yeah, you want it off?”

“Don’t tease me, ‘lex. I wanna see you. Not Ghostface.

It gives Alex pause, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he pulls back to look at you.

“... You really mean it?”

“Yes,” you purr. “I really do.”

Alex quickly tugs off his draping outfit, sighing as his bare, caramel chest is given its glory. Suddenly, you see him for who he is. A man, a man you’re soaking your panties for. You need him like a fish needs water.

The two of you meld together like it’s all you’ve ever known. In a way, Alex is all you’ve ever known.

Your hands greedily feel him up, squishing his pecks and running your thumb over his hardening nipples. His hips pop once with a meek whimper escaping him, “I-I should be doing this to you.”

“But you’re not,” you taunt and latch your mouth to his chest and suck.

A keening whimper escapes Alex as his fingers tangle into your tresses, pushing his chest further into your tongue with a whine.

The two of you meet in a sloppy kiss, Alex pushing you onto your back as he leaves love bites down your neck. He leaves more on the other side of your breast, sucking soft, supple skin to leave bruises of remembrance.

Alex pauses, his eyes flickered to yours and a steamy gaze, “can I… Can I eat you out?”

It doesn’t feel weird, even if he’s your best friend. Your knees fall apart wider as you give a shy nod, “y-yeah. Be gentle—I’m sensitive.”

He hums and levels with your pussy. Alex’s right hand comes to entangle with yours as his breath fans over your soaked panties. You both stare in a terse, heated moment before he’s licking with the flat of his tongue.

“Ooh! Shit…!”

Alex makes it sloppy while teasing you over soaked cotton. His smirk is evident when you cry out and practically crush his hand as he laves over your swollen clit.

“You taste like candy,” he pulls your panties to the side with a groan. “And you’re so wet.”

“You’re embarrassing me—aah! Ohmygod, ‘lex!”

He dives in like a man starved, and in a way he is. Alex slurps messily at your folds, tongue swirling your creamy hole before sucking your clit into his hot, wet mouth.

Your fingers grip and tug ferociously as you grind your cunt against his face. Alex’s eyes slip closed as he loses himself in you, his adept tongue working you open.

It burns hot and white as your stomach clenches. You ride his face, and he lets you, “‘lex!! ‘M gonna cum!”

There’s a wet, inaudible groan, and Alex is pressing his tongue at your entrance and tongue-fucking you. The hot strand of pressure snaps, and you cum with a needy cry.

“Alex,” you sob out, knees squeezing his head as he helps you through your orgasm. “C-Can’t! Too much, please!—”

He pulls away with a glistening mouth and jaw. He’s so hard in just his boxers, and you can taste yourself as you bring him in for a messy kiss.

“I can’t believe I just,” you cut him off with another desperate peck, “mmf—just ate you out.”

“Don’t brag about it,” you murmur against his lips before he settles back on his haunches.

Alex starts to claim he’s not “bragging,” but you hone in on the reveal of his thick, bobbing cock after freeing it from his boxers. The fat tip smears pre-cum on his navel and your mouth waters. God, you needed him.

He fishes out a condom from his black robes, and you draw close to help roll it on. He’s hot to the touch and shivers at how your hand barely wraps around him, “thank you.”

Your hand is still on his dick as you smile up at him. Alex gives you a tender grin before motioning you to lie back. He uncoils like a snake, stretching across you to lay between your legs. His dick just barely brushes your throbbing clit, and you jump at the contact. Alex swallows and seems nervous as he grips his base.

“I-I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

The world seems to stop for a moment. You stare into the galaxy of brown amber held in his eyes.

You can hardly breathe, and you swear your heart’s crawling up your throat and about to beat past your lips. Alex’s eyes search yours for something, anything. You hadn’t realized how silent you’ve been, “I love you, too.”

Alex laughs and scoots a little closer, his cock head just barely pressing against your fluttering hole.

“God, you really made me nervous there.”

“You’re about to be inside me! I wasn’t ready for a confession…”

Alex kisses your pout away and sinks into you with a hefty groan, “holy shit.”

You’re scratching his back from the deliciously sinful way he stretches you out. With the legs looped around his hips, he starts to shallowly thrust. His dick plunge is deep and drags heavy amidst your spasming gummy walls.

“Fuck me, oh, yes!”

“Ngh,” he grunts, and his hips are hitting yours with punishing claps.

Alex makes you submit, laying there in a writhing heap as you take him in your guts. His hips angle upwards, and he’s battering your g-spot while uttering sweet nothings into your ear, “you’re such a good girl. Ah, ah, fuck; c-can’t believe I’m fucking your pretty pussy.”

Your lips are swollen red and parted as Alex fills you entirely over and over and over! You cling to him in a pathetic embrace, barely able to keep your eyes open while staccato moans fill Alex’s ear.

“Alex, I-I can’t for m-much—ooh!! Ohgod, gonna cum…!”

In between your sweaty, grinding bodies, Alex’s sneaky hand slinks down to messily rub your clit, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His voice shakes with a compliment, and his thumb presses his hard circles on your sensitive nub. It’s enough to break you down in a mix of cries and sobs as you cum all over him, “oh fuu-huh-ck!”

Alex inhales sharply, chasing his own high as your walls squeeze him during your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. Baby, I—!!”

He lets out a whimpering squeak before burying deep and emptying his balls inside the condom. He thrusts once, twice, before collapsing down onto you with panting breaths on his lips.

You both are exhausted. Your bare foot presses against the cool plastic of his mask, and you blurt your question before you can even think.

“Did you really kill all those people?”

He doesn’t look at you, merely planting kiss after kiss on your exposed skin, “I did it all for you.”

There’s no guilt or apprehension this time. Only the way your heart sings with love.

“It’s hard to say whether Ghostface had help this time,” the newscaster reports. “But, it’s an ongoing reminder to lock your doors and report any suspicious activity…”

The screen goes black as Alex laughs and cuts the TV off. Your eyes trace his features, the delicate curve of his nose, and the slope of his lips; he is stunning. Neither of you speak of the mutual dried flecks of blood on each other’s cheeks.

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackityhq x reader #quackity thirst #quackity x reader smut #quackity drabble

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suguru-getos · 2 days ago

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“i have scars in my hands from touching certain people” — cult leader! geto x monkey! F->reader

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, budding building relationships between sugu and the reader. taunting, trauma. it’s a mix of everything really. (mentions of gore & killings, mentions of locking up the reader, suguru has caged her basically but he’s very suguru-like about it :3)

the lunch was so eerie, quiet, but so unlike the geto estate’s normal day to day. suguru was sitting eating quietly at the head’s chair, to his right side was mimiko, nanako to the left, manami, miguel, larue and a few others he proudly calls family seated. the farthest from him was you. and somehow the nearest — for you sat right in front of him at the other leader chair. you’re not one to talk anyways, despite the silence being deadly.

suguru found you a few months ago, when his temper got the better off of him on an italy trip with his dearest precious angelic girls. your friends were taking a seat right behind, the dinner place otherwise secluded. maybe it was how loud you all were, or perhaps, how disrespectful your friends was when the waiter asked her to tone it down a little upon suguru’s urgency. he was here for some peace and quiet. it was liberating as is in his head to tolerate monkeys around, breathing, heart beating against their chests & living… he couldn’t help but kill everyone.

the sound of bodies trampled by something you can’t see, some screams— you were luckily in the rest room & you didn’t dare come out. suguru knew better though, he knew you were here. his eyes had lingered a little too long when you came inside this place anyway. he gets up, eyes clinging together in his usual smile, headpatting nanako. “i will check if there are others.” the girls wished their geto sama wasn’t so temperamental all the time. but whenever suguru was amongst monkeys, it seemed like the infinite, ocean-like patience he harbors fades & evaporates from within him. she sighs, watching suguru walk towards the entrance of the restroom. a few more screams… “happy birthday to me.” she scoffs, looking down.

when it came down to you, a terrified little girl leaning against the restroom corner of one of the stalls, eyes closed, ears covered, he knew he might just make an exception. maybe it was to show mimiko & nanako that he didn’t kill them all & he is working on his actions… maybe he just knew you’d have nowhere to go, all your companions & friends were dead. he purses his lips, eyes blearing hard in annoyance. "get up." you still remember the command that ran through your skin. you get up, trying not to cry at the man, big and looming, a feet taller than you, his face smeared in blood. "please don't kill me. i wouldn't say anything..." you manage to croak, voice hoarse at the panic it brings you.

"i wouldn't. shut up." he seethes, a warning pretty clear the way your shoulders slump and you quiver. you don't want to make sure you die right here.

...the rest is history, suguru took you to the room in italy, the girls just mingled with you within a few days. then, he took you to japan. you had work, you had a life, but you didn't want to say anything after you saw your friends lifeless. you hated geto suguru, but your silence was all you could possibly do.

it's been a few months to this now, eventually, you're at a stage where things have changed. your family thinks you have 'moved in' with your boyfriend, you had obviously resigned from work and on being asked to serve your notice or pay fine, suguru slapped the fine on their faces. you just exist in this estate when geto sama is on his meetings, when the girls spend time learning, when miguel and larue are on missions... sometimes you take out time out of your already free day to write. but there's nothing else to your routine except being suguru's monkey pet.

you are traversing through your thoughts, and suguru clears his throat to snap you back to reality. "y/n. you didn't answer the question asked." oh shit- "sorry- what question?" "do you like the food?" he asks, observant, and ever so keen to know things about you. you have no idea why he does that. you have known he hates humans. the only people he has tolerated is your brother and your mom. when they came to 'visit' you. he played the boyfriend bit quite well, also. "yeah, s' great." you hum, taking another disinterested bite.

"really? i didn't like the spice level, you like spices too, don't you?" he hits you with another question. manami and larue are gazing at you, they don't know what kinda mood suguru is in at the moment. there are times he just locks you up for hours because he doesn't wish to contaminate the house with monkey stench. you don't want it to be one of those days either.

"i like it." you answered, not sure what is it that he wishes to hear.

suguru has also been like a quiet cat in the last few months. he just observes you, watches you keenly, accompanies you on your walks and has attached himself to a fleeting hope that you would eventually open up to him. you haven't asked him anything about himself, or ever expressed your discomfort. you don't want to talk about the instances where you and him have almost kissed for several times. or when you seek him out with sillies like, "do you want to take a walk? do you want to go and eat ice cream? do you wanna watch a movie?" there are moments with suguru which almost feel a little too domesticated. its not all bad.

there are moments when he clutches at your wrist and you feel the burn seep through your entire body, and then you hate yourself for it. there are moments you hate him and wish for him to die when you remember it's your friend's birthday and she's no more. there are a total of good and bad and even which you can't possibly count. there are times suguru hugs you for good mornings and then there are times he doesn't want to see your face. you both are struggling to accept each other.

"last time this was made, you didn't take a bite." he raises a brow. "so i made sure they had something you liked for store." he crosses his arms. raising a brow. oh goodness.. suguru geto and his fierce memory. "i like it now." you scoffed stubbornly.

the chair slides back and your heart sinks, suguru is coming towards you. there is a layer of panic in your body language that isn't unreadable despite there having enough close moments between you two. you flinched when he takes the last footstep, standing in front of you. his hand yanking the plate away and shoving it closer to your face. "does this look like the plate full of something you love?" he's right, you have barely taken a bite or two. you swallow thick, unsure why you're being lectured like a child. "sorry... i was just busy thinking about something but, i'll finish it." you mumbled, eyes glossed up at the sudden change. maybe its him who is in a bad mood today.

"no, i said i got something else." he yanks the plate against the wall, the crockery breaking the same time as a stray tear falls down your cheek. oh he's mad. its so evident the turmoil suguru is in when he's around you. you wish he didn't have to go through the psychological torture either, but its him that needs to understand that too. "don't be mad and ruin the dinner for everyone geto." your words have a slight gnaw, a warning. you don't know where you muster the strength to say all that but... you just do.

suguru is tamed just like that, a heavy sigh followed by an eye roll. you get up, wanting to leave when you feel his hand clasp around your wrist, tight, restricting some of your blood flow.

"i said, i got some food for you y/n" he raises a brow, why are you so difficult and why can't he kill you off. he knows he has a soft corner for you, he knows he ... loves you. which is why this hurts. he hates that fate had to choose no one but a fucking monkey for him. the very kind he hates has this much control over him. he wishes so bad that the feeling goes away, but his heart is taut between needing you near him and wanting to push you away.

"please." he murmurs like an injured lion next, leaning his hand away when you hiss in pain. so frail and breakable. he's so afraid to touch you wrong even, you're like a little bunny and he's this... big bad wolf. can't even hold you up well without hurting you. always extra careful... delighted to be extra careful. your hand reacts to his hold, turning redder and slightly blue. even though you're the one that's bruised, suguru is the one that's hurting.

"don't understand how weak someone can be." he hums, holding your hand gently and glaring at the wound. he hates this so much. then, there's always you attacking with words as well.

"oh you mean these physical wounds? eh, they're no problem. you can lock me up again if you're scared of hurting me physically, geto." you remind him that these are physical wounds, that this is something unrelated to the mental wounds he's given you.

"i have scars too, little one. so many scars from touching you." he replies, he also, means the emotional scars. you are a living, breathing reminder that his hate isn't enough after all.

"eat your food." suguru ends with a hum, despite everything, he can't let you go.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #yandere geto #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #jjk imagines #geto suguru x reader #geto fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader angst #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto

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superbreadsoul · 22 hours ago

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WHEN THE DEVIL MISSES YOU

Rafe Cameron x Reader

DISCLAIMER!: The following story is purely fictional and is made for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the characters/show/movie mentioned in this story.

WARNING: Toxic exes, heartbreak, open ended/happy-ending, Rafe is/was a bad boyfriend, Reader is not perfect, mentions of drugs/drug use, implied DV.

WORD COUNT: 5285 WORDS

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

The moment you stepped into The Boneyard, a haze of neon lights and laughter swirling around, he felt a gravitational pull he couldn’t resist. Rafe Cameron’s gaze consumed you, trailing over every curve, every flicker of your confidence—a vivid reminder of every sleepless night you had caused. The memory of why you had broken up faded like smoke, lost to the undeniable electricity crackling in the space between you.

Heart racing and mind whirling, Rafe downed his drink with a purpose, the burning liquid a faint echo of the fire within him. With a quick flick of his thumb, he typed a message and pressed send before he could think better of it. Just a few heartbeats later, he saw your phone light up across the crowded room.

Rafe: Hey. Miss you.

It was so classically Rafe—simple, straightforward, a shot directly to the heart. As the party exploded into chaos around him, he locked eyes with you through the throng of tipsy revellers. He nodded toward his motorbike parked just outside, a clear invitation in the midst of the chaos.

“I’m heading out,” he stated with a casual confidence, brushing off the clamour of his friends, who were too caught up in their own indulgences to notice his urgency. Reconnecting with an ex, he thought, could only bring a thrill, maybe even a second chance, right?

You paused, a heavy sigh escaping your lips, but your feet had a mind of their own, trailing after him with a mix of reluctance and expectation. The protective stance of your arms crossed over your chest shielded you from the memories tugging at your heartstrings. Why couldn’t you just ignore him?

Rafe was already straddling his bike, the roar of the engine igniting the air around him as he pulled on his helmet. The moment he caught the sound of your footsteps, a smirk unfolded across his lips, a satisfaction deep in his gut. He liked this—this chase, the thrill of wanting.

“Let’s go,” he urged, his voice barely rising above the growl of the engine, a seductive call wrapped in confidence.

“Excuse me?” you replied incredulously, arms refusing to unfold.

He killed the engine with a frown, peeling off his helmet to flash you his trademark cocky grin. “What?” He leaned in closer, resting his arm on the seat, his eyes raking over you with unabashed appreciation. There it was again, that nervous habit of biting your lip—the habit he both adored and hated.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you declared, shaking your head defiantly.

“Why not? Got somewhere better to be?” Rafe challenged, the annoyance bubbling beneath his skin. Why was this so complicated when he was sure that the chemistry was still there, sizzling just beneath the surface?

“With my friends, yeah,” you shrugged, turning the knife deeper. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

He scoffed, irritation creeping into his voice. “You’re acting like I’m the goddamn devil. Is it so hard to believe that I actually miss you?”

You let out a mockery of laughter, bitter and sweet. “You miss me? That’s rich.”

“I do miss you,” he pressed, the agitation rising with each word. He fought the urge to grab you by the shoulders, shake some sense into you. “Why do you have to act like such a bit—”

“There it is! Now I’m a bitch. That’s exactly what I was waiting for,” you interrupted, a sharp smile on your lips, but the hurt was evident in your eyes.

He couldn’t ignore how well you knew him, how easily you pressed his buttons. The corner of his mouth twitched at your sarcastic jab, but it held no real humour. “Well, if the shoe fits, sweetheart,” he shot back, his grin morphing into something more sinister.

“Yeah—go fuck yourself, Rafe.” The words shot out of your mouth like daggers, each one piercing the space between you with a sharp finality. Disappointment etched across your features, you turned on your heel, striding away from him and back toward the ecstatic chaos of the party, where laughter mingled with loud music—an escape you desperately craved.

“I would,” he called after you, his voice oozing with sarcasm and something deeper, a longing laced within the bravado. “But you’d do a better job, like always.”

The words hung in the air, thick with tension, and it took all of your willpower not to spin around. But you did stop, your shoulders tensing as you felt a mix of disbelief and indignation wash over you. Turning back to him, eyes wide, you growled, “Shut up, Rafe!”

Embarrassment crept up your neck, and you quickly glanced around, desperate to ensure no one else had overheard. The laughter and cheers from the party felt miles away, amplifying just how isolating this confrontation had become.

“You’ve never minded me being loud before,” he teased, still perched on his bike, the engine purring a soft backdrop to this storm brewing between you. A devilish smirk spread across his face as he continued, “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve begged me to be loud.”

A rush of memories surged within you, ones filled with shared secrets and heated rendezvous that ignited every part of you. Come on, baby, cum inside me, come on, baby—god—Rafe!

You shook your head violently, as if trying to dislodge the sweet and agonising recollections. Your heart raced as you instinctively rushed forward and reached up to cover his mouth, glancing around nervously to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “Rafe!” you hissed, a flush creeping into your cheeks.

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise before erupting into laughter, each peal of sound ricocheting off your frazzled nerves. The joy in his eyes only deepened with the sight of you, flustered and frantically shushing him, but there was something else, too—a glimmer of mischief, an understanding of the power he held over you.

“Don’t look so panicked,” he teased, the laughter spilling over with every word. “This is pure nostalgia, babe. How can you not enjoy it?”

In an impulsive mix of embarrassment and anger, you shoved him lightly. “You’re disgusting,” you huffed, turning to walk away, determined to sever this tenuous connection.

He held onto your wrist with an understated urgency, refusing to let you flee back into the festering chaos of the party. It was a gentle tug, but it carried with it an unspoken plea that reverberated between you. “Just get on the back of my bike, will you?” Rafe said, rolling his eyes as he gazed down at you, the challenge glinting in his stormy blue eyes. “Come on. We’ll talk.”

“Talk? We’ve been through this a thousand times before. It’s never just ‘talking’ with you,” you replied, your voice steady yet laced with an underlying tension. You met his gaze with a deadpan look, one that dared him to deny the weight of your words.

Rafe’s expression shifted, his eyes darkening slightly as they bored into yours. He took your assertion as a challenge rather than a warning. “Yeah? And?” he shot back, his voice holding a hint of defiance, coaxing you into a verbal duel. “You’ve never had a problem with that before.”

The air thickened with unresolved emotions—each syllable exchanged was a loaded bullet, and you pressed on. “We’re not together anymore, Rafe,” you reminded him, disbelief creeping into your tone, as if it should have been obvious.

“Yeah, ’cause you broke up with me,” he retorted, stepping closer, his grip tightening just enough to send a ripple of heat through your skin. “You dumped me,” he emphasised, the words bitter on his tongue, as if the act was an open wound, still fresh and raw.

“Yes. Yes, I did. And for a good reason,” you replied softly, guilt and pain twisting in your chest like a knife. The memory of the decision lingered between you, hanging heavy in the air, an unspoken truth that cut deeper than any argument you’d had.

“Which is?” Rafe asked, a tone of vulnerability creeping into his voice. It was a tone unfamiliar to you, the usual bravado stripped away to reveal something softer beneath. For the first time, you sensed a glimmer of confusion clouding his certainty. He’d never truly understood why you had chosen to end things, why you had thrown away four years that had been both exhilarating and exhausting.

“Are you kidding? We were fighting all the time, Rafe!” you snapped, the bafflement colouring your words. How could he not see it?

“So? Couples fight,” he countered, the defensiveness creeping back into his tone. “It’s normal!” It was a tired refrain, one that you had heard too many times before, yet it still echoed painfully in your heart.

“But it was more than that!” you fired back, feeling frustration bubble up from within. “It was toxic! We kept circling the same arguments without ever fixing anything. You refused to change, and I was… I was miserable. We weren’t making each other better; we were dragging each other down!”

And with that, the truth spilled over, painfully honest and raw, as if it were a wound torn open.

He stared at you, the reality of your words settling in, a shadow flickering across his face. “You think that’s how I wanted it?” he asked, surprise and a hint of hurt laced through his voice. “I thought you were better off with more fight in you, not less. You were always the strong one, Y/N. You could take it.”

“And look where that got us!” you shot back, your heart racing. “I fought until I couldn’t anymore! And you just… you just kept pushing!”

“How we fight? Is NOT normal, Rafe!” The words burst from your lips like fireworks, filling the charged air between you with a mixture of anger and desperation. Drained, you felt the heat radiating from your flushed cheeks as you took an unsteady breath. “I get angry and I yell. YOU get angry and you start throwing things and snorting coke!”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, a hint of stubborn pride rising to the surface as he shot back, “That’s what I do,” tightening his grip on your wrist slightly, as if anchoring you to his world. “That’s just how I deal with things!”

In that moment, he was a ticking bomb, aware yet indifferent about the damage he could inflict. He knew his approach wasn't healthy, wasn't good by any standard, but when frustration coursed through his veins like wildfire, it felt as if he had no other outlet.

“Well, I couldn’t deal with that! It just made me paranoid, Rafe!” Your voice rose, the plea soaked in anguish. Each word felt like a lead weight dropped into the void of your troubled relationship.

“Then why did you stay with me for so long?” The question slipped out of his mouth like ice, cold and sharp, flaring his temper further. Beneath the surface, a tempest brewed—an awareness that you were two sides of an ever-widening divide. You yearn for something better; he craved your presence, but the gulf between your realities made it feel insurmountable.

You paused, your face softened by a deep sadness, your heart aching as you prepared to lay bare your truth. “Because I loved you,” you whispered, but even those simple words seemed to hang heavy with uncertainty.

Something tightened in Rafe’s chest at your confession. The doubt gnawed at him—Bullshit. “You have a funny way of showing it,” he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Breaking up with the person you love? Because that really shows how much you care.”

The mist in your eyes began to swell, and you felt the familiar, bitter taste of despair creeping in, like an old friend returning. “Yeah. Okay, Rafe,” you murmured, your voice small and breaking as you turned away, blinking back tears and attempting to clear the lump lodged in your throat.

“Stop.” The command slipped from his lips, harsh and unyielding. His heart ached as he caught that familiar shimmer in your eyes, the telltale sign of tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. The lightness of silence fell around you both, suffocating and heavy. He released your wrist, his hands itching with the desire to wipe your tears away, but he stalled himself, feeling the weight of the history that constrained you both. “Don’t start with the crying bullshit,” he said, steeling his resolve. “You’re the one who ended it.”

Every syllable felt like a stab to your raw heart. The sting echoed with the immense hurt of being belittled—the same hurt that had been inflicted over four painful years together. You nodded to yourself, your eyes focused on the ground as you struggled to hold back the tears, hugging yourself tightly as though it would somehow provide solace.

Watching you shrink, feeling yourself become the reason for your sadness, clawed at Rafe’s insides in a way he couldn’t comprehend. I hate this. He hated this feeling— Hated being the one to dim your light.

With a frustrated scoff, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair, the uncertainty crippling. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, grappling with his emotions. Against all better judgments, he closed the distance between you, grasping your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze.

You resisted, refusing to look up, each moment of contact driving you deeper into anguish as you fought the tears welling in your eyes. You stared stubbornly down the road, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer, almost desperate tone. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lifted your chin, coaxing you into his fiery blue gaze. “Crying never solved anything,” he muttered, a tremor in his voice as anger mingled with something raw and unfettered—his jaw clenched tight.

Every fibre of him railed against the vulnerability on display, but beneath all that anger was an unsettling pleasure. Some dark part of him whispered,— Maybe you do enjoy making her cry.

Your heart sank further. He always had a deft way of making you feel stupid—like a mere child caught in a whirlwind of adult frustration. “Talking never solved anything between us either, Rafe,” you replied, pushing him away, your voice thick with strained emotion and decisive hurt.

You could see the flicker of pain in his eyes at your words, a fleeting glimmer of understanding that clashed with the raging storm beneath the surface. In that moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the weight of your emotions, the fragility of your relationship hanging in the air like broken glass.

Rafe faltered, a man caught between the desire to hold on and the need to let go. Each breath felt heavier as the silence deepened, filled with the unspoken intensity of your past and a fragile hope for the future—or perhaps, a final closing chapter.

Yet in that suspended reality, neither of you knew how to bridge the ever-widening gulf between love and war. The battle raged on, but with every tear shed and every harsh word thrown, the question remained: was there still a path worth fighting for, or would this be just another painful cycle ending in loneliness?

He lets you shove him away, swallowing the protest that rises in his throat. Your truth hits like a crushing wave, undeniable, but it leaves him grappling for breath. You’re right, he thinks, but the words wither on his tongue. The warmth of your presence is intoxicating and infuriating all at once, and as you retreat into that familiar silence, he knows you’re already lost, spiralling into whatever headspace you escape to when confrontation looms.

“Y/N,” he attempts again, his voice edged with frustration as he grabs your wrist and yanks you back toward him. “You’re just running away again.”

“Running away?” Your voice ignites the air, fierce and razor-sharp. “You’re the runner in this relationship, Rafe! Not me! I stayed for four goddamn years trying to get you to— to talk to me— to even look at me and treat me with respect!” The rawness of your emotions spills over, fueling the fire that rages between you as you shove him toward his bike.

“Respect you?” He snaps back, fury bubbling to the surface as he steps back to her. “If my idea of respect includes putting up with your bullshit, then I’m happy to keep being disrespectful.” The bite in his tone cuts through the tension like a serrated knife, even as he knows it’s counterproductive.

Rafe is all too aware of the damage he does when his voice rises, the chaos it sends skittering across your face. It’s the quickest way to elicit a reaction from you, rivalled only by the fleeting moments when he makes contact—those moments when rage eclipses empathy.

“And I did look at you,” he sneers, venom dripping from his words. “I looked at you plenty of times with my hand around your neck.”

Your breath hitches, and the pain in your chest wells up into your throat as you stare at him, horrified. “God—look at you! You don’t even care about what you’ve done to me! How you've treated me!” Your voice trembles, rough with emotion, tears pooling in your eyes as you confront the truth—you feel battered by his unrelenting cruelty.

“Are you kidding me?” His voice drops low, bitter, an undercurrent of wounded pride threatening to burst forth as he steps closer, invading your space. With a commanding presence, he towers over you, pinning you against the back of his bike. There’s a twisted satisfaction in the way your tears reflect his power, a fleeting belief that maybe, just maybe, he’s the one still in control.

“You constantly pushed me away! You ran away the second things got serious between us!” Your words snap like a taut wire, each syllable infused with the hurt that has festered over those long, winding years.

Rafe’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking as anger boils underneath the surface. “Me? Running? Huh?” His voice drips with incredulity. “Is that what you call it when we’re in the middle of a fight and the next minute, I open my eyes to see you with one foot out the goddamn door?”

Each word gets heavier, crashing down upon the space between you like a thunderstorm, drowning both your voices in a deluge of unresolved rage and passion.

“Okay, well here I am, Rafe! I'm not running now, am I? So what do you want to do? Go on! Tell me! What’s your brilliant plan to work this out?” Your voice is a fierce challenge, hands firmly planted on your hips, glaring up into his stormy eyes, filled with expectation as if he might suddenly pull a solution from thin air.

In that moment, the silence stretches, a fragile tautness woven between you—his anger and your sorrow finding a tenuous balance. But deep down, beneath the swirling maelstrom of emotions, you both know there is no easy answer, no quick fix. Only the relentless push and pull of two souls bound by passion and pain, teetering on the precipice of what’s left to lose.

But for now, all he can offer is silence, and the unspoken fear that whatever comes next may define not just who you are together, but whether there is even a "together" left to salvage.

Rafe stood motionless, fists clenched tightly at his sides, framing the rage and confusion simmering just beneath the surface. He glared down at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something deeper that he couldn’t quite articulate. Your gaze bore into him, eyes glistening with hurt, expectation, and something else—love. It was exhausting, the way you looked at him, a relentless reminder of all he felt yet refused to acknowledge.

Why did you hold this power over him? It wasn’t fair. With each moment that passed, he felt his anger slowly unravelling, eroded by the depth of your gaze, replaced by a tumult of emotions that threatened to sweep him away. With one determined stride, he closed the distance between you, his heart pounding wildly.

In a sudden rush, he cupped your face with rough hands and crashed his mouth against yours, a desperate collision of passion and unspoken words.

You melted into him, your breath hitching as the world around you faded. You fisted his shirt, anchoring yourself to him, losing your resolve as desire crushed the anger that had fueled your fight. Rafe moaned with satisfaction, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth as if trying to memorise the taste of you. He missed you—oh, how he missed you.

His thumb brushed tenderly against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had slipped down in the heat of the moment. His kisses were often rough, driven by frustration and anger, but this felt different—fierce yet vulnerable, almost pleading.

Yet, you felt a sobering reality seep in, a mix of longing and regret. You pushed against him weakly, your hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, torn between wanting to pull him closer and needing to push him away. Rafe, sensing your struggle, didn’t relent. Instead, he pressed you back, forcing you onto the seat of his motorcycle, effectively caging you in with his body.

His hands were everywhere—grasping your hair, sliding across your waist, fingers inching dangerously close to where they shouldn’t go in public. But even in his reckless abandon, he held on to a shred of decency, hesitating just beneath your breasts, like a thief caught in the act, unsure of whether to risk it all.

The intoxicating heat of the moment enveloped you until awareness crashed back like a cold wave. You became hyper-aware of his touch, and suddenly you were shaken from your trance. Pushing him away, you hurriedly wiped your lips with the back of your hand, a bitter taste lingering on your tongue along with the chaos of emotions. “No! You can’t just do that—you can’t just kiss me and think it’ll make it all better!” Anger bubbled up through your tears, and you choked on the words, the frustration spilling over like an unrelenting tide.

“Why?” he snapped, his voice ragged and raw, dripping with exhaustion. He gripped your arms with a fierce intensity. “Why can’t I just kiss you and make it better?” Each word was a confession, a battle of its own, laying bare the ways he’d always known how to avoid the conversations that truly mattered.

You stood there, heart racing and breaths coming in ragged gasps, your voice trembling as you confronted Rafe. “Nothing ever got solved that way! Why do you think we kept fighting? We were miserable together, Rafe!” Your voice cracked under the weight of your frustration, tears threatening to spill.

Rafe leaned into your space, the anger in his demeanour suddenly turning mocking. “Oh, we were so miserable,” he sneered, fingers tightening around your jaw, pulling you closer to him, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is that why you were always begging for me every night, huh? Because we were always miserable?”

The sharpness of his words pierced through you, and you felt like an exposed nerve, raw and aching. A soft whine escaped your throat as you buried your face in your hands, the familiar sense of despair washing over you. Once again, you were thrust back to square one, caught in a cycle with him that made your heart race and your spirit ache. He never truly took the time to understand the depth of your feelings, the turmoil that swirled within you.

“You can fight this all you want,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous as he nudged your head up with his nose, forcing you to confront him. “But you and I both know that you like when I’m rough with you, when I’m mean.”

His lips descended toward yours, capturing you in another kiss that felt more like a claim than an act of affection. This kiss was possessive and insistent, as if he was trying to expel any remaining resistance left in you, as if he could kiss away all the pain and anger.

“No, Rafe,” you whispered shakily against his lips, tears spilling over now, coursing down your cheeks. “I was afraid of you.”

The confession echoed between you like thunder, and suddenly, something within him shattered. Rafe stared at you in disbelief, his expression morphing from arrogance to something resembling vulnerability. His lips parted, but no words came—only the heaviness of your revelation hung in the air like a brick.

He had braced himself for your scorn, ready to hear you say that you hated him—his ways, his behaviour, his mercurial anger. But to hear you voice your fear, small and broken like a timid whisper, shattered him to his core.

“Your behaviour—the coke—your anger,” you choked out, each word painful and raw, forcing its way through your tears. “After Peterkin—” You flinched at the name, the reminder of the sheriff he shot like a sharp knife slicing open old wounds.

Like a bucket of cold water washed over him, Rafe stood there, realisation dawned on him like a terrible wave. The world around them had faded into an indistinct blur, and all he could focus on was the anguish etched into her face.

“Wait,” he breathed, his voice strained as if it were both a question and a plea. “Is that why you broke up with me?”

For a moment, she stayed silent, and Rafe listened to the steady rhythm of her heavy breathing, each shaky exhale a reminder of their shattered relationship. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her red and blurry eyes reflecting the pain she couldn’t articulate.

“I couldn’t take it,” she finally rasped, her words slipping out in a sorrow-soaked confession. “I felt so guilty, trying to keep what you did to Peterkin a secret. Do you even understand how hard it was to know my boyfriend… murdered someone?”

The weight of her words hung between them, pulling them into a chasm of fear and uncertainty. “I was so scared, Rafe. You were constantly on coke; you just got so violent. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it anymore. You don’t even remember what you did to me, do you? I never even told you—”

Goddammit. Rafe closed his eyes, a frustrated groan escaping him, reverberating in the quiet night. He had tried to drown out memories of what he’d become, but they crashed over him like a relentless wave.

Yes, he remembered. The rage that had blindsided him. The destructive path he had taken that had led to moments where his hands had hurt instead of healed. When he had lashed out at her, the one person who had stood by him through it all. How had he let it come to this?

She turned away, trying to wipe her tears in vain, as if she could wish away the pain that lingered between them. Rafe felt his heart wrench at the sight of her suffering.

“Oh, for f—look at me!” he snapped, an edge of desperation creeping into his tone. He stepped forward, needing her to hear the urgency in his voice, needing her to face him. “Please, just look at me!”

Torn between the impulse to lash out against his own anguish and the overwhelming need to reach out to her, Rafe was caught in a tempest of emotion. He wanted to scream to silence the doubts and fears. But he also wanted to pull her into his arms and promise her he would never let go.

Finally, you reluctantly turned to him, her eyes a mixture of hurt and weariness, silently pleading for clarity.

“Rafe…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand how much I’ve lost.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted, his voice steadying as he fought to regain his composure. “And that’s why I need to know. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to confront this… us… whatever this is, together. I know I’ve hurt you, and I know I’ve hurt myself. But I want to change. I want to fight this for you—for us.”

Her eyes searched his, as if trying to gauge the sincerity behind his plea. “It’s going to take more than just words, Rafe. I need to see you willing to fight—a real fight.”

“I’ll fight every damn day,” he vowed, honesty pouring from his heart. “You have to believe me. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I can’t be that person and lose you in the process.”

A silence fell between them, heavy like the night sky. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Finally, she sighed and stepped back, creating distance that felt insurmountable.

“Rafe… I don’t know if I can trust what you’re saying. It’s so hard for me,” she said, tears welling up again.

“I know,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper. “But if you let me, I’ll show you—every single day. I’ll—I’ll get clean, and I–I won’t run from my reflection in the mirror anymore. I refuse to be the man who brought you pain. Okay? I’m–I’m gonna take care of us. I’m gonna take care of you.”

She looked down, contemplating, chewing on her lip as the weight of his words began to settle. The barriers she had built to protect herself were carved from fear but also love. Love that had once defined their relationship.

“I… I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to change,” she managed, a shard of quiet desperation threaded in her words. “It’s going to take time, Rafe. You can’t expect me to just jump back in.”

“I’m not,” he reassured her gently. “I want to be patient. I want to rebuild. I just can’t imagine a future without you in it.”

“Promise me you’ll keep fighting,” she said softly, her gaze finally locking on him with a fierce intensity, as if her heart was dangling by a thread. “Promise me you won’t give up on yourself.”

“I promise,” Rafe said firmly, sealing that promise with determination. “But I need your help too. I need you to consider that maybe we could find our way back.”

Her expression wavered, hope flickering as she searched for a sense of purpose in the storm raging within.

“Okay,” she said slowly, a semblance of resolution breaking through. “But only if you’re serious about this.”

Rafe nodded, relief flooding through him. He extended a hand toward her, not forcing contact but offering it and hoping she would take it. After an agonising moment, she glanced at his hand and then at his face, searching for sincerity.

Then they both took a step toward each other, a tentative toe in the water of rebuilding a shattered world.

As their fingers entwined, he felt the warmth of her skin, a reminder of what they had once shared. The night still held shadows, but glimmers of light began to break through, carving out the possibility of healing.

In that bittersweet moment—where fear mixed with hope—they stepped onto the path of understanding, aware that though the road ahead would be long and filled with obstacles, they were committed to facing it together, one day at a time.

The End.

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rinsoap · 24 hours ago

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THE BIG SEIJOH FOUR'S MUSIC TASTE!

this includes : oikawa tooru. matsukawa issei. iwaizumi hajime. hanamaki takahiro.

note : REMASTERED FROM THIS POST! im back from hiatus! (maybe) please enjoy some music headcanons while i scrape together inspiration for some actual works :p

OIKAWA TOORU

!!? you cannot tell me he isn't OBSESSED with kali uchis. he's been an og fan since her por vida era. i've been pushing the kuchi oikawa agenda for three years and i've been RIGHT for three years! he loves latin music and found out about kali when iwaizumi showed him an odd future song she was featured on. i'm ngl guys, being an "og" fan gave him a complex... wdym "name ten kali uchis songs" she's got 30 million monthly listeners. be fr.

his favourite songs by kali uchis are:

☆ gotta get up - interlude on the isolation album. ☆ moral conscience on the red moon in venus album. ☆ no eres tu(soy yo) on the sin miedo album.

!!? daniel ceaser die hard fan. he loves his on the low bisexual rnb artists, what can he say? he'll listen to freudian on REPEAT, like all ten minutes just looping while he goes through the five stages of grief. iwaizumi called him immediately when he learned daniel was on the new tyler the creator album, they were GEEKED.

his favourite songs by daniel ceaser are:

☆ do you like me? on the NEVER ENOUGH album. ☆ take me away on the freudian album. ☆ LOVE AGAIN on the CASE STUDY 01 album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: tonight by summer walker. 360 by charli xcx. get back by britney spears. WAR! by DESTIN CONRAD. sunshine by steve lacy & foushée.

MATSUKAWA ISSEI

!!? #1 frank ocean dick rider. he's actually so annoying it's crazy. type of fan to beg for him to make more music but has barely listened to his pre-blonde albums. type of fan to say "what do y'all know about frank ocean?". type of fan to say "frank ocean mentioned 🤓☝️" whenever someone says one of his song titles in everyday conversations (this might be me).

his favourite songs by frank ocean are:

☆ sierra leone on the channel ORANGE album. ☆ nights on the blonde album. ☆ songs for women on the nostalgia, ULTRA album.

!!? him and makki are crazy underground fans, it's actually not even funny. iwaizumi found out and was like "oh i love the underground, my favourite rapper is MFDOOM, whose urs?" and they were like, "umm Ken Carson 😄" what "the underground" technically is is genuinely a sore subject in the friend group LMFAO

his favourite songs by ken carson are:

☆ murda musik (ft. destroy lonely) on the X album. ☆ ss on the a great chaos (deluxe) album. ☆ yale on the teen X album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: of course you won't by lucki. paper soldier by brent faiyaz. purity by A$AP rocky & frank ocean. forgiveless by SZA & dirty ol' bastard. father stretch my hands pt. 1 by kanye west.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

!!? tyler the creator's #1 fan wdym?!!? goblin era apologist typa fan. "no guys, like, it was supposed to be his intrusive thoughts!" they faces killing me why no one gaf 😭 chromakopia glazer and he knows it! (valid) he was there during the odd future era, like dude was writing OFWGKTA on his desk in sharpie omg.

his favourite songs by tyler, the creator are:

☆ WILSHIRE on the CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST album. ☆ lone on the wolf album. ☆ A BOY IS A GUN on the IGOR album.

!!? are we surprised he's a kendrick lamar fan? this was so obvious to me like no other option. relatively new fan, but everyone thinks he's been listening to him since 2011 because he's so obsessed and knows so many songs by HEART. gets into daily debates with mattsun over whether gkmc or tpab is better.

his favourite songs by kendrick lamar are:

☆ DUCKWORTH. on the DAMN. album. ☆ momma on the to pimp a butterfly album. ☆ backseat freestyle on the good kid, m.A.Ad. city album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: benzo by blood orange. sunday by earl sweatshirt & frank ocean. talk my shit by childish gambino, flo milli & amaarae. housten old head by a$ap rocky. CYANIDE by daniel ceaser.

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

!!? charli xcx superfan dont play! he started listening to her through brat, but he enjoys her older songs better. he likes electronic type of music, but he likes to say he fucks with anything that "goes crazy". him and oikawa almost exclusively listen to charli when they're together and mattsun says it drives him crazy, but everyone knows he's mouthing the lyrics to to girl, so confusing.

his favourite songs by charli xcx are:

☆ claws on the how i'm doing now album. ☆ sympathy is a knife on the brat album. ☆ unlock it (lock it) [ft. kim petras & jay park) on the pop 2 album.

!!? like i mentioned, him and mattsun are annoying underground fans. so let me talk about their other goat, destroy lonely. these mfs are the type to try and start moshpits and fail miserably. they like to say "what do y'all know about lone?" but only like his most popular songs.

his favourite songs by destroy lonely are:

☆ VETERAN ft. ken carson on the NOSTYLIST album. ☆ bane (single). ☆ LUV 4 YA on the LOVE LASTS FOREVER album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: glory boy by lucki. tears in the club by fka twigs & the weeknd. immaterial by SOPHIE. nightcore by ken carson. codeine vision by chris travis.

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morganski-19 · 1 day ago

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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 51

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 48, part 49, part 50

“What if we let him stay with us,” Eddie says out of the blue, sitting on one of their new kitchen chairs.

Wayne stops unpacking glasses, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Steve, what if we let him stay with us. Just while he tries to find a place.” He fidgets with his hands, avoiding Wayne’s eye contact. “We’ve, uh, been talking, and he’s put off trying to find a place. Now that he knows the end date, he’s started looking but can’t afford any of places that are open right now.”

Wayne pushes the box back onto the counter, he can finish it later. He turns fully toward Eddie, leaning back on the counter and crossing his arms. “So, you want us to let him stay here.”

“Yeah, and it could be like paying him back, you know. For letting us stay with him. Return the favor, and everything.”

He sighs, wiping a hand down his face. “We don’t exactly have the space for that. Unless you’re planning on him sleeping on the couch.”

Eddie stutters, further ignoring Wayne’s gaze. Mouth opening with no sound coming out.

“Or is this the part where you finally tell me you two are seeing each other?”

Eddie freezes. “How did you know?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Cause I’m not an idiot. You two go from chewing each other’s head off to being super close and touchy. And I saw Steve try to sneak out of your room when I got back from a shift. He thought he played it off, but I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wanted to see how long it took you to tell me yourself. It’s been almost three weeks, and we all live together. You really thought I didn’t know?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. We were just feeling it out, didn’t want to tell anyone in case it blew up fast.”

“And now you want him to move in with us? Sleep in your room, in your bed. You really think that’s a good idea?”

“I thought you would be cooler about this. Steve’s a good guy, you know that.”

He does know that. But he knows a lot of things that leave him questioning. Even if it’s just from passing comments. Ammunition that could have been meaningless, but there was history behind it. History Wayne doesn’t know but can assume what it means.

Maybe he’s an ass for assuming. Maybe he’s just being overprotective. But when it comes to matters of the heart, people can be reckless. They can jump without looking just to get hurt in the end.

Steve might be a good guy for letting them stay in his house. He might be a good friend, a good role model for the kids. But a good boyfriend, for Wayne’s boy, he’ll never be good enough. No one will.

“I know. I’m just worried that letting him stay here would make a jump you’re not quite ready yet.”

Eddie nods, looking down at his hands. “It’s early, I know. And it’d be temporary. I just—I don’t want to leave him high and dry. He helped us when we had nowhere else to go, I thought we might be able to so the same.”

Wayne gets where his head’s at. He gets wanting to do something to thank Steve that would be anywhere near the way he’s helped them. Hell, Wayne does too. There are just so many reservations in his head. So many ways that this could go wrong.

“I’ll think about it,” Wayne concedes. “On a few conditions, it is actually temporary, and I’m the one who talks to him about it. You say nothing until I do, got it.”

“Got it.” Eddie smiles brighter than he has in a long time. “Thank you, it means a lot, even you just thinking about it.”

He sighs. “Yeah well, you have a point.”

“You’re not going to get, like, super weird and protective now that you know right?”

Wayne scoffs, going back to the box that needs unpacking. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve told me what happened while I was still in the coma. I know you didn’t like him around me. I know that has changed, but it’s different now. And don’t you remember back in my freshman year where I told you about that guy in my English class and you threatened to kill him if he looked at me wrong?”

He shrugs. “That’s just part of being a parent, can’t turn it off.”

That kid would have deserved what came to him if Wayne actually followed through. After the first few months of peace, he made Eddie’s life a living hell.

“Well, Steve’s a good guy, and he’s good to me, so just, tone it down a little bit.”

Wayne turns to look at Eddie again. He’s honestly surprised that this conversation is happening, but also glad that it is. Eddie’s hasn’t exactly seen that many people. Not in the town that threatens to crucify you for walking on the wrong side of the road. As far as Wayne was supposed to know, this was Eddie’s first time seeing someone. But he knew that on some of the weekends where Eddie would disappear for a night, it was to sneak into one of those bars down in Indy.

That was dangerous, this was less so. As far as Wayne knows, Steve’s romantic life is a mixed bag. Short term relationships and one long one that ended semi-badly. Sue him for being cautious. Sue him for looking out for his kid. After all the pain they went through in the past year, he could at least try to make sure heartbreak wasn’t added to the mix.

“You happy?” Wayne asks, watching as Eddie’s face softens.

“Yeah.”

“You being safe?”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet, but when we do, we will.”

Wayne nods. “Then I’ll tone it down a little. Just a little. Don’t go expecting miracles.”

The rest of the box gets unpacked, the glasses and other dishware slowly filling the cabinets. The home starting to really look like a home.

“Thank you,” Eddie says quietly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Steve gets back from work late. Wayne wasn’t exactly waiting for him, but he wasn’t exactly not waiting for him. He was just in the kitchen, putting something together for a late dinner, knowing that Steve was going to be home soon. If it felt like a good time, he was going to bring it up. If it didn’t, he was going to give it a day.

But he can feel that protective burn bubbling up and can’t snuff it out. He needed to know.

“I know about you two,” Wayne says. More menacingly than he meant to, but doesn’t know how else to start this.

Steve freezes, hand on the fridge’s handle. Holding it open. “What?”

“You and Eddie, I know.”

He nods, closing the door and clearing his throat. “For how long?”

“Few weeks. You’re really not a slick as you think you are.”

Steve leans on the counter, crossing his arms. Ready for a lecture. “We were going to tell you, just wanted to make sure we weren’t making a mistake first.”

“Interesting word there, mistake.” Wayne’s pressing, trying to lure out what he needs to see. Make sure that this isn’t something he needs to worry about.

“I just didn’t want to lose another friend because of a relationship. It took me years to be able to be friends with Nancy. I didn’t want the same to happen with Eddie.”

Wayne nods. Satisfied with the answer.

“What you said a few weeks ago, that you saw the way I acted around him. And you wanted to stop the hurt before it started. I’m not planning on hurting him. I can’t promise I won’t mess up; I tend to do that a lot. But I always try to make up for it, to learn. I’ve gotten really good at apologizing.”

The protectiveness dies down, Steve hitting everything he wanted to hear. And Eddie’s right, Wayne knows that he’s a good guy. He’s made mistakes, but he’s grown. He’s changed. It’s as much as Wayne can ask for.

“You know, earlier today, Eddie brought up this idea of letting you stay with us until you find a place on your own.”

Steve’s face fills with shock. “He did?”

Wayne nods. “Yeah. As you can imagine, I had my hesitations. We don’t exactly have spare rooms like you do. But,” Wayne can’t believe he’s really saying this, but it feels right, “if you wanted, you could stay with us. With the promise that you find a place on your own, and that this won’t put an unnecessary strain on your new relationship.”

“I—” Steve tries to get out. “Thank you.”

Before Wayne can register what’s happening, Steve’s hugging him.

“Thank you,” he repeats. The words heavy with relief.

“Yeah, well. After all you did for me, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Steve lets go, taking a step back. “But you didn’t, a lot of people don’t. So, thank you.”

He realizes that there is so much story of Steve that he still doesn’t know. Hurt and pain that he keeps hidden away. Not for other people to see. Steve walks away before he can ask, or even question. Hesitating before walking down the hall to Eddie’s room.

This was going to be interesting.

apologies for the late post, I was at work and then driving home from break, and forgot to post before I left (like I planned to). And posting tag lists from mobile sucks ass.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #wayne munson #wayne pov #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

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