#and if you're ever feeling down or alone just reach out

[astarioffsimpmain]

Hello my dearest!

Please can I have a public love confession from Gale? 🥰

Hi my love!! You absolutely can!

Post-battle adrenaline emotions, my beloved.

Warning: Canon-conforming violence

"You're not allowed to die!"

You heard Gale's voice as you went down with a cry. The shadow-cursed ghoul had managed to cross the threshold of your Spirit Guardians spell and slashed its claws through your torso. Your breaths came in strangled sounding gurgles as you lay on the ground beneath it, awaiting its final blow. But just as you closed your eyes and sent a prayer to Ilmater, the creature was engulfed in flames and succumbed.

You hoped to see a familiar purple robe next; if Gale's face was the last thing you ever saw on this plane, you could embrace the afterlife with peace. But it was not the wizard who reached you first. It was Shadowheart, kneeling over you, uncorked bottle in hand. "Drink, fast!" she said, and you had no mind to argue. The liquid was sour on your tongue - peach and lemon, battling for dominance; a potion of greater healing. So the cleric had kept one stashed away somewhere. You smiled, even as your nose scrunched up at the flavor.

'Th-tha-" You tried to whisper a thanks, but all that came out were gargles, and Shadowheart stopped you.

"Don't speak. Let the potion take effect properly or you won't make it through this." You nodded and fell silent, feeling your muscles twitch and ache as they stitched back together. The feeling was wildly uncomfortable, but welcome all the same. Moments later, you felt head against your cheek, and your eyes snapped open, locking with golden-brown ones - laced with concern. You attempted a small smile, wanting to show him you'd be alright, but his expression didn't change. He looked to Shadow.

"Did you reach her in time?"

Shadowheart nodded, and the wizard's shoulders slumped in relief. He looked back at you, a glimmer of something new in his eyes. This time, when you smiled at him, he returned it - if with more than a bit of worry still laced in it, and before you could process what was happening, he was leaning down close to you. You thought he wanted to say something to you alone, but when his soft lips met your own, your heart stopped in your chest. "I couldn't bear to lose you," he whispered against your mouth and you melted into him, a shaky hand rising to meet the back of his neck to hold him in place.

"Can you two save the heartfelt confessions until we're back at camp? And possibly alone?" Shadowheart interjected, and you stole a glance at her. She wore a soft smile on her face, and when she caught you looking, she chuckled. "It's about time," she added gently, helping you sit up properly. You felt your face flush and shared a flustered look with Gale, whose own cheeks were now dusted a light pink.

"We'll speak more about it tonight, yes?" he said quietly, and you nodded.

"Speaking may not be all we do," you replied cheekily and his face turned redder.

"Rhyester's eyes, you'll be the death of me," he muttered, running a hand over his face.

~

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @knightofmight01 @fanon-and-canon @just-a-refrigerator @micropoe10 @worfs-glorious-hair @serenaoffaerun @nerissa-dekarios @optimisticgrey

[pineconepie]

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."

[literary-motif]

love starts growing excessively clingy and dependent on xanthus, following him everywhere he goes and not wanting to ever leave his side (╥﹏╥)

My sincerest apologies a) for the long wait and b) because this is not exactly what you wanted ((co)dependent relationships are tricky to write, I find) and c) because it is embarrassingly short for my standards.

Glue

Xanthus Claiborne x Reader

“Where are you going?” you asked, raising your gaze from the excellent food Dontis had prepared to look at Xanthus. He had not joined you at the table, instead continuing to sit on the couch with a book propped open in his lap before he stood, reaching for his coat. 

“Out,” he said, giving you a soft smile. There was no malice in his voice, nor annoyance. It was a joke-answer, deliberately short for comedic effect. But instead of the fond eye roll he expected from you, your face simply fell. He felt the dread creeping through the bond before he could put a name to it. 

“Don’t go,” you answered, catching yourself off guard by exactly how completely you meant it. 

You could not bear the thought of being alone, not with the threat still over all of your heads. Not with the Trimedian still out there, planning, plotting. The thought of Xanthus leaving filled you with such exhausting terror that you were not sure what you would do if he disappeared behind the door. 

That was a bit much to confess, however. 

You cleared your throat, shifting around the pasta. “I’ll miss you if you're not with me,” you tried to joke, averting your gaze. 

Xanthus frowned. It did not take the bond for him to notice something was amiss. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he tried, walking over to the table to place his hands on your shoulders, resting his head on top of yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“I’d rather have it done. I won’t take long, I promise.”

“Can I come with you?”

He hesitated. “But you’re eating lunch, Love. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you reassured him, half-heartedly taking another bite. “Nothing, I just— I don’t want you to leave.” You felt him humm against you, his fingers tracing slow circles on your shoulders. It was comforting, feeling him so close to you, knowing you were safe with him. 

Xanthus seemed to catch on, feeling you gradually relax. He shifted to stand beside you so he could look at you properly. “Should I wait until Dontis comes back from his date?” he asked, not without a slight mock in his tone at Dontis’ infatuation with a certain Hunter. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if you’d rather not stay here alone.”

You considered his offer for a moment. It was not the company you wanted, but him. Still, you supposed, if there was anyone you would feel at ease with now besides Xanthus, it would be Dontis. 

“If I can’t accompany you, then yes,” you answered, watching as Xanthus draped his coat over the back of the chair opposite yours. “That would be nice.”

“Very well then,” he said, walking over to the coffee table briefly to retrieve his book. He sat down in front of you, continuing to read where he left off. His hand reached across the table, taking yours to intertwine your fingers. “I’m not leaving, you know,” he muttered. “I don’t think my heart could take it.”

“Because you love me?”

Xanthus raised his head, looking at you for a long moment. Then he tilted his head, his brow slightly furrowed. ‘Do you even need to ask?’ he seemed to say. ‘Have I not made it clear already how much all of me belongs to you? Have I not shown you, again and again in what high esteem I hold you, how important you are to me, how much I rely on you? Have I not conveyed sufficiently how happy you make me, how my heart flutters when I catch your gaze, how you make me melt? Have you not felt it, how thoroughly I love you?’

“Yes,” he replied. 

That had to suffice. 

[thequeenofcurses]

Death of a Bachelor

Chapter 3: The First Night of Forever

Okinawa honeymoon with your new husband: special grade sorcerer Ryomen Sukuna (smut!) wk: 3.1k

<- Part 2

You and Sukuna arrive in Okinawa in the early evening, the sky painted in shades of warm amber and deep violet. The hotel you check into is nothing short of luxurious—grand chandeliers, marble floors, and a breathtaking ocean view from the lobby alone. It feels surreal, as if you’ve stepped into a dream.

As you enter your suite, you're instantly captivated by its opulence—the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a vast expanse of turquoise waves, a private balcony overlooking the beach, and a bed so lavish it looks fit for royalty. Excitement bubbles within you at the thought of exploring the island, of making memories in this paradise.

Before you can voice your thoughts, Sukuna pulls you into his arms. His embrace is warm, grounding you amidst the overwhelming beauty surrounding you.

“My wife,” he starts, his voice filled with awe. “My dazzling wife.” He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against your cheekbone. His crimson eyes hold a softness reserved only for you. 

Your heart swells at his words, at the sheer love in his gaze. “I love you.” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“And I love you,” he answers without hesitation. Then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he claims your lips in a deep, searing kiss. His tongue moves against yours with practiced ease, exploring, savoring, leaving no inch untouched. You sigh into him, your fingers threading through his hair as your body instinctively molds against his.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes burn with something deeper than desire. “We can explore later,” he murmurs huskily, his fingers skimming the sides of your body, igniting sparks along your skin. “Right now, I want to worship every inch of my wife.”

Your breath catches at his words, a thrilling excitement coursing through you at the promise of what’s to come. “Yes,” you breathe out, a hint of anticipation in your voice. His large hands trail down the sides of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“Please, Sukuna… show me how much you love me,” you say, your voice a soft, pleading whisper.

“Oh, I will,” he promises, his eyes darkening with lust. “I'll show you just how much you mean to me.”

Your heart pounds in anticipation, your body already responding to his words. As his clothes fall to the floor, you lick your lips, drinking in the sight of his muscular form. His tattoos only enhance his masculinity, the intricate designs adding to his powerful presence.

“Like what you see?” he asks, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, knowing exactly how he affects you.

“You're so handsome,” you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch him. Your hand runs down his sculpted chest, marveling at how his muscles flex under your touch. Every ridge of muscle tenses under your touch, and the power he exudes is undeniable.

His eyes darken at your praise. “And you,” he says, his gaze roaming over you with unfiltered adoration, “are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You pull him into a heated kiss, unable to resist him any longer. His lips capture yours, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual, erotic dance. As the kiss deepens, you moan softly, the sound sending a rush of blood straight to his cock.

Your hand reaches between his legs, gently stroking his rapidly hardening length. He groans into the kiss, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily, seeking more friction. You break the kiss, grinning mischievously as you drop to your knees.

His eyes close as you rapidly pull his pants off and take him into your mouth, sucking lightly on the tip of his cock. He hisses, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you further down his length. You relax your throat, taking him in as deeply as possible.

He groans, his head falling back as pleasure floods his body. You begin to move, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. His grip tightens in your hair, pulling on it slightly as he struggles to maintain control.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he pants, his voice low and husky. Your mouth feels amazing around him, and he can't help but wonder how long he'll last. He wants to savor this moment, to savor the way you look with his cock buried in your throat.

“Look at me,” he commands, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are burning with desire, his expression filled with raw, primal need. You continue to suck his cock, gazing up at him, your eyes locked on his.

“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice thick with arousal. “Curses. You look so beautiful like this.” He continues to guide your head, his movements becoming more erratic.

You speed up, your tongue working its magic on him. You can feel him tense, his balls drawing tight as his orgasm builds. He grunts, his hips jerking forward, and you know he's close. “F-fuck baby, I'm coming,” he groans and then he explodes in your mouth, his hot seed spilling down your throat. He tastes like sweet berries. You swallow eagerly, loving the taste of him.

He pants heavily, his grip on your hair loosening as he comes down from his high. You pull away, grinning up at him. He gives you his infamous grin, showing both his canines. 

"Damn, that was good," he remarks, pulling you into his arms. "Now, it's my turn." He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He tastes himself on your lips, and it only arouses him further.

You melt into his touch, your body responding eagerly to him. As the kiss breaks, he grins down at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Time for me to return the favor," he murmurs, scooping you up and tossing you onto the bed.

He crawls on top of you, his large frame caging you in. “You're mine, wife,” he growls, his voice filled with possessiveness. “Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck.”

"Yours," you breathe, a wave of heat washing over you at his words.

"Damn right," he agrees, his hand trailing down your body. He cups your breast, squeezing it lightly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You gasp, arching into his touch, needing more. "S-sukuna...please," you beg, your body aching for him.

He chuckles, his hand continuing its exploration. “Patience, princess. I want to enjoy you first.” His fingers trail down your stomach, coming to rest between your legs.

Of course you're already wet for him, your body desperate for his touch. He begins to stroke your clit, his touch featherlight. You moan, your hips bucking, trying to increase the pressure.

“So impatient,” he chides, his fingers teasing you.

You cry out in frustration, your body on fire. You need him inside you.

“Please, Sukuna...fuck me,” you beg, your voice a desperate plea.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. His fingers push into you, curling upwards and finding that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh gods, Sukuna,” you cry out, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit. You can feel the pressure building, your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands ardently, his eyes dark with lust. “Come all over my hand.” His words send you over the edge, your walls clamping down on his fingers as waves of bliss wash over you.

You abruptly shout out his name, your body shuddering as you ride out the aftershocks. He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, his eyes locked on yours. “Delicious,” he murmurs, before lowering his head between your legs.

His tongue darts out, flicking across your sensitive nub. You moan, your hips jerking upward, craving more. He begins to suck on your clit, his tongue swirling around the swollen bundle of nerves.

“K-kuna," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you're not sure how much more you can take. He hasn’t even been inside you yet.

His eyes flick up to yours, his gaze filled with raw, primal desire.

“You like that, y/n?” he mutters, his breath hot against your core. “You like it when I eat your pussy?” 

"Gods yes," you moan, your body writhing in ecstasy.

He continues his assault, his tongue moving expertly between your legs. You feel the pressure building again, the tension coiling deep within you.

"S-sukuna," you breathe out, your nails now digging into his cotton candy pink hair. You pull him further down into you. His mouth truly feels divine. 

"That's it, princess. Come for me again" he murmurs, his tongue never ceasing its movements.

Your back arches off the bed as another orgasm rips through you, the intensity leaving you breathless. Sukuna raises his head, a smug smirk on his face.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his hand stroking your inner thigh. "But we're not done yet. I'm going to make love to you until you can't remember your own name."

He slides up the bed, his cock hovering at your entrance. He slides the tip up and down your soaked slit. “Ready for me, baby?” You nod, unable to speak, the sensation of him teasing your opening overwhelming your senses. You’ve only just begun to catch your breath before he thrusts into you, filling you completely.

You moan, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “You're so fucking tight,” he growls, his hips rocking back and forth. “So damn perfect.”

“Sukuna,” you whimper, your body tensing around his cock.

“Yes, baby?” he pants, his eyes blazing with desire.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, needing him to move.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He begins to wantonly thrust into you, his movements slow and deep. “You're mine,” he declares again, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “No one else can have you.”

“I'm yours,” you agree, the feeling of his cock buried inside you almost too much to handle. He was so big it nearly felt like you were being split in two. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure mounting with each thrust of his hips. You slide one of your hands down to your hips, trying to hold onto one of his. He takes your hand in his, looking into your eyes as he fills you completely with each hard thrust. 

“Say my name,” he grunts, his eyes fixated on yours. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Sukuna,” you moan, your walls tightening around his cock.

“Again.” Thrust.

“Sukuna!” Thrust.

He pulls your knees upward toward your chess, pressing you further into the bed to get an even deeper angle. He starts picking up the pace. Your fingers dig into his back, holding on for dear life as he fucks you senseless.

“Again. Say it again.” Thrust. Thrust.

“Sukuna!!!!” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. He pounds into you relentlessly. His cock is too big. He's fucking you too good. The pressure is too much. 

"That's right," he breathed against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. "Let everyone in this fucking hotel know who you belong to."

He releases your legs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist again. He places a hand on the bed frame, needing something to hold on to, but not wanting to hurt you. His hands — nails, start digging into the frame as he pounds away into you. Over and over and over again. The sound of the frame smacking against the wall sounded throughout the room. 

Sukuna grips the frame with a hard thrust, the top of it breaking, tiny pieces of it falling onto the bed. A minor distraction, because nothing in this universe would stop Sukuna from driving into you. Not even if a special grade curse suddenly appeared in your room.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he moans, his voice dark with promise. “I want to take you like this.” In one fluid motion, Sukuna grabs your hips, and picks you up like you’re nothing. He pushes your back against the wall and bounces you on him. His cock reaching up as far into you as possible. The tip kissing your cervix with each deep bounce. 

“Kunaa!” you scream as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. Your soft gummy walls clamp down on his cock, pulsing and squeezing him with each wave of gratification.

"That's it," he groans, his rhythm never faltering. "Take all of me, my wife."

He doesn't slow down, doesn't ever give you a moment to recover as he continues to bounce you on his cock, your back sliding against the wall with each powerful thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and yet somehow not enough.

The pressure is building again, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. You're so close, teetering on the edge of another mind-shattering climax. Sukuna senses it, his pace becoming more urgent, more demanding.

“Give it to me,” he commands, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

"Sukuna!" you scream one final time, your body convulsing around him as the most intense orgasm yet tears through you. Your vision blurs, stars exploding behind your eyelids as euphoria consumes you entirely.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his rhythm faltering as your walls clench and pulse around his length. "You feel so fucking good when you come on my cock."

Your orgasm hits you with the force of a tidal wave, euphoria spiraling through every nerve ending of your body as Sukuna continues his relentless pace. Your vision blurs, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you scream his name over and over, your voice growing hoarse. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red crescent-shaped trails in their wake, marking him as yours just as thoroughly as he's claiming you.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his rhythm faltering as your walls clamp down on him. His grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts growing more and more erratic. "You're going to make me—"

“Do it. Cum inside me,” you plead, your voice barely a whisper.

He continues thrusting through your orgasm, prolonging the waves of pleasure that crash over you. You're trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch.

He buries himself to the hilt inside you, his powerful body tensing as he finally empties himself deep within you. You feel the hot pulses of his release, his cock twitching against your sensitive walls. His face, usually so controlled and arrogant, is transformed by pleasure, his features softening in a way only his wife gets to witness.

"Fuck, baby" he breathes against your neck, his body collapsing partially onto yours, careful not to crush you. 

A shiver runs down your spine as his voice, low and filled with desire, sends waves of longing through you. "Sukuna..." you breathe.

His eyes flash with hunger at the sound of his name falling from your lips, and you both know this moment is just the beginning of an unforgettable night.

And as Sukuna lays you out on the bed, his eyes roving over your naked form, you know that this night, this moment, is everything you've ever wanted.  Everything you never knew you needed.  Everything you'll never let go of again.  This is you and Sukuna, bound together by the unbreakable threads of your love.  This is your happily ever after, and it's only just beginning.

EPILOGUE

Five Years Later

On his rare day off, Sukuna lounged lazily on the couch, sipping tea while early morning cartoons played on the television. His son sat beside him, eyes glued to the screen—until something much more pressing caught his attention.

“Dada,” the two-year-old tugged at the hem of Sukuna’s shirt, too short to reach his arms. His little brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is Mama getting so big now?”

Sukuna nearly choked on his drink, coughing between bouts of laughter. Of all the questions he expected this morning, that wasn’t one of them.

“Well—” he started, debating whether he should just let you handle this one. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister soon. They’re growing in Mama’s belly right now.”

“Whaaat?!” Your son gasped, his eyes widening in shock. “She ate my brother or sister?! We have to save them!”

Before Sukuna could refine his explanation, the toddler was already sprinting toward the kitchen, a look of fierce determination on his tiny face.

You glanced up from setting the table just in time to see your son charging at you—foam noodle in hand like a mighty sword.

“Mama, why did you eat my sister or brother?!” he demanded, wielding the noodle with the confidence of a hero about to vanquish a great evil.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Sukuna casually sauntering in behind him. He met your gaze, smirked, and gave a lazy shrug before plopping down at the dining table, clearly ready to eat.

You sighed before ruffling your son's hair. “Sweetie, I didn’t eat them,” you reassured, crouching down to his level. “You were in my belly once too. Your little sibling is just growing there until they’re ready to meet you. I promise they’re okay.”

Your son blinked up at you, processing this new revelation before slowly lowering his foam sword.

Satisfied, you gently took the noodle from his hands and scooped him into his high chair, setting his breakfast in front of him. As you turned back to the table, you caught Sukuna already digging into his food like he hadn’t eaten in days. The second he met your stare, he paused, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Don’t give me that look, woman,” he drawled. “I needed a stamina refill after last night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re the one who kept going for more rounds!”

His deep chuckle rumbled through the room, and despite yourself, you laughed along with him.

The three of you enjoyed breakfast together, lighthearted banter filling the air. As you ate, the conversation drifted to potential names for the baby.

After much deliberation (and some very questionable suggestions from Sukuna) your son made the final call.

“Kayo,” he decided firmly, for a little sister.

“And Kaen,” he added with equal confidence, for a little brother.

Both were perfect. Just like this little life you and Sukuna were building together.

<- Part 2

A/N This is the final chapter of this story! I'm kinda sad because it's over, but I had a lot of fun writing it. It's the first ever multi-fic thing I've ever actually done. I still am really shy and nervous about writing smut, so if anyone has tips or writing advice, I will gladly take them! Now that this is done, I will now be focusing on Where You Left Me (Reader/Sukuna Zombie AU)

masterlist | jjk masterlist

tags: @darkfaerietails

[legendarycherryblossomlove]

Begging for swerve x reader fluff 🙏🙏

Swerve...SWERVE. SWERVE SWERVE HUARHAHAHJT I LOVE THAT LOSER.

*ahem ahem* uhh anyways..

I hope you don't mind if you let me choose a title for this. But, I hope this is into your liking!

.

.

.

"All Is Well."

(Swerve x Reader fluff stuff.)

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.

Is this how Swerve will live his whole life? Cracking jokes, faking smiles and letting out fake laughs just for the other crewmembers to think he is just fine?

In the back of his mind, he knows that if he continues this facade of hiding his feelings, then maybe they would finally accept who he is.

That is why at night, you see him staying alone in his bar, cleaning all the tables and glasses left by them. You wondered why not stay with him for the night and help him clean?

So you walked in the bar and disturbly grabbed each and one of the glasses from each table.

Swerve, surprised by your action. Nodded and lets you help him. "Thank you." Was all he could say as he nervously looked away from your gaze. It would appear that this is the first time someone actually stayed with him and is helping him.

You chuckled and shrugged it off. "It was nothing, really." You said with your usual smile on. "You know, you shouldn't be in here alone, Swerve. I'm worried about you."

Swerve's optics widen behind his visor. You...were worried about...him? Damn, this is the only time that someone is actually worried for him. He could feel his spark beating rapidly inside of his chassis but managed to calm it down. No...this isn't true, right? No one in their right processor would give a damn about him, right..?

"Is something that matter, Swerve?" You asked, tilting your helm. Your optics filled with genuine concern about him. Swerve swallowed a gulp and looked at you, with a fake smile.

"All is well." The only phrase that came out of his mouth.

Suddenly, he lets out a small gasp as he felt your servo reaching and holding his. Digits intertwined, the soft yet firm grasp. "Sometimes all is not so well, love." He lets out another small gasp as you kissed his servo and placing it over your cheek plate.

Swerve, touched by your gesture. Caressed your cheek plate in a soft manner. As if he wants to savour this moment with you, just the two of you. Alone in the bar.

"You know...Sometimes hiding your feelings isn't gonna help you much. You have to let it out sometimes or else you'll feel only the worse way possible." You said as you placed another kiss on his palm.

Swerve was overjoyed by your small comfort talk. Sometimes, he does need to let it out even if it's really that bothering. He then placed a kiss on your cheek as a little thank you.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, sweetspark.." He said, looking at you so lovingly. Completely ignoring the messy atmosphere around them.

"All Is Well, indeed." You repeated his phrase, letting out a small chuckle as he booped your nose.

.

.

In the end, you both manage to tidy up the bar back to it's pristine setting and head back to your shared berth. You both ended up cuddling in each other's arms for comfort. Maybe sometimes all is indeed well when someone truly cares about you.

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AHHHH HERE IT ISSSS YOUR MEAL!

I hope you enjoy it<33

[fake-mouthstatic]

baby fever

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 20. rated G.

💕

"So sorry I'm late," Tommy says as Chimney opens the door with a tired but bright smile.

"No problem, we saved you some dinner," Chim says, ushering him inside and through to the kitchen where Evan and Maddie are sitting with a sleeping Jee and her new little brother.

Tommy freezes in the doorway, his brain short circuiting when he sees Evan carefully cradling little Daniel in his arms, grinning down at him with a smile so bright Tommy almost feels like he needs sunglasses.

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

"Hi Tommy," Maddie says, looking radiant as ever as she smiles at him across the living room.

It's a moment before he answers, too caught up in the sight of his boyfriend so tenderly holding a newborn; he could easily imagine it being their child and the thought sends a pleasant warmth through his chest.

"Uh, hi, sorry," he says eventually, leaning down to peck Maddie on the cheek. "How are you doing?"

Maddie smiles, joy evident in her eyes.

"Tired but good."

"Everything went okay? No complications?"

"He took a while to actually come out," she says, casting an inordinately fond look at her son, "but other than that, peachy."

Chim reappears with a plate of leftovers and Tommy takes it gratefully, his stomach rumbling at the delicious smell of casserole wafting into his nostrils.

He sits carefully on the couch next to Evan, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"How was work?" Evan asks softly, finally tearing his gaze away from the sleeping bundle in his arms.

"Two alarm turned into a three alarm turned into a four."

Evan grimaces in sympathy. "Oof."

"Yeah, oof. How was your day?"

"Perfect," Evan says, returning his soft smile to his adorable nephew.

"You're really great with kids," Tommy tells Evan as they set off home a couple of hours later, the Jeep's engine rumbling gently beneath them.

Evan smiles, looking shyly pleased.

"I just love them," he says, practically beaming. "Kids are awesome."

His smile fades suddenly and Tommy can almost see the gears whirring in his head.

"You, uh, you want kids?" he asks hesitantly. "I know we haven't really talked about it yet."

Tommy smiles, reaching over to rest his hand on Evan's thigh; the rate their relationship had been going they'd barely had time to breathe, let alone talk about the important stuff.

"One day, yeah," Tommy says, his words putting a smile back on Evan's face. "Definitely one, maybe two."

"Okay, good," Evan says, seeming relieved, "because I definitely want kids."

"Yeah, I figured from the way you wouldn't let your nephew go all night," Tommy teases, grinning as Evan blushes. "And honestly? I've seen you with kids enough to know it'd be criminal for you not to be a dad."

Evan smiles, bright and shy all at once.

"You're gonna be a great dad too, you know."

Tommy smiles softly.

"I hope so."

Evan lifts Tommy's hand from his thigh, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"I know so."

[demigodsanswer]

I know you have lots of WIPs but I would love to read more of your ~spicy~ percabeth one shots I feel like you write those so well!!

love the implication here that I have a cache of these stories I'm not sharing. Anyway, here's a little thing I wrote last night to help my brain recover from tech rehearsals.

Blindfolds & some light bondage ahead

~

Annabeth had a therapist. She actually really loved her therapist. Helen was a daughter of Aphrodite who'd survived long enough to become an adult. And her practice served many, many demigods who could bring their real problems to her.

She helped Percy and Annabeth a lot.

But there was a certain amount of healing and certain kinds of trust exercises that they needed to do on their own.

By Annabeth's count, she'd been blindfolded for four minutes and twenty-six seconds.

"I'm right here," Percy promised, his voice low and comforting in her ear. He was laying next to her, a hand resting on her chest, monitoring her heart rate. "You're doing so good."

The bed was soft under her; her velcro cuffs were a little scratchy, but the sensation gave her somewhere to focus her attention. And, if she really panicked, she could easily pull herself right out of them. But she wasn't panicked.

In the dark, it was easy for her to feel alone, lost. Under the blindfold, she remembered what it was like to have her senses stolen from her by the whims of a goddess. And it was easy for Percy to remember what he'd done in retaliation. Her hopeless, him teetering on the brink of inhuman.

But now they needed to trust each other. Annabeth was safe, comforted, and taken care of, and Percy was taking care of her, watching over her. There wasn't anything to worry about. She felt nice, almost. She could trust Percy. He was right there. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Not now. Not ever.

Annabeth felt him shift next to her, and then a thumb ran over her lower lip. A moment later, Percy's lips were against hers, the scratchy start of a beard brushing against her skin.

"It's been about five minutes," he told her.

"Four minutes and forty-nine seconds," Annabeth corrected.

Percy laughed. "How do you do that?" But he didn't let her answer. Instead he just kissed her again before asking: "Have eleven seconds passed?"

"Yeah," Annabeth confirmed.

"What's next?" Percy asked.

Most of the time, kink was completely and totally erotic for them. Annabeth hardly got off these days if she wasn't held down or holding him down at least, and Percy performed best with a good tug on his hair and a "good boy" (which wasn't a problem. He was always a very good boy).

But sometimes, it was something else. Tonight, it wasn't about sex.

Well ...

Percy toyed with the hem of the blindfold. "Want this off?" He asked.

"What if you ..." Annabeth started. She was in a pair of thin pajamas, but the sparse clothing wasn't the source of her shiver. "You could do more."

"Do more?" Percy asked, his hand slipped to her cheek. "I need you to tell me what you want."

The last time they'd done this, she'd made it to five minutes in the blindfold before they decided to end that scene. She hadn't come close to subspace or other desires. But tonight, she was feeling more confident. More steady.

Worth a try.

"You can play with my breasts," Annabeth told him.

"Okay," Percy said. "Just that?"

"For now."

She could feel his hand slide down her side as she shifted slightly to be on top of her. She felt the weight of the bed shift under her as he got on his needs, one leg on either side of her. And then his warm, gentle hands, calloused from years of sword fighting, slid up her torso, pushing her shirt up inch by inch.

Annabeth felt the gentle breeze of his breath against her tummy, and then up. True to her request to the letter, Percy didn't put his mouth on her until he reached her breasts. Percy had certainly proved capable of following some rules in the last few years (even if she would have been plenty okay with a kiss to her abs here and there).

Percy's hands touched her first. Her nipples puckered as they were exposed to the room's air, and Percy took the chance to pinch them. He was gentle at first, until Annabeth offered a satisfied whine. He pinched harder. Usually, when she could see him, she got some warning. She could read Percy like ... well, actually open books were sometimes pretty tricky, dyslexia considered. But Percy couldn't really hide his plans from her. She knew all his next moves.

But not now.

Without warning, she felt his mouth seal around her other nipple, sucking one while pinching the other. Heat shot through her core, the sensation thrilling her as much as the surprise of it.

"Oh Percy," she moaned, back bowing under him.

"Good?" He asked.

"Yes," Annabeth promised. His mouth went back to work, this time on the other breast. She felt more sensitive than usual, like the absence of sight really was increasing her awareness of his touch.

Every move he made was unpredictable to her. She felt the brush of his lips against the soft flesh of one breast ,and then his fingers pinched the nipple on the other. There wasn't a pattern or rhythm to it; it was just play.

Heat was building between her legs, and instinctively, Annabeth rubbed her thighs together.

Percy caught her; she could feel his smile against her breast.

"Do you want something else baby?" Percy asked.

Annabeth nodded. "You can touch me," she promised, spreading her legs.

"Blindfold still on?" Percy clarified.

Annabeth thought for a second, checking in with how she felt. It would be a big jump from their past experiments, but she felt okay. There weren't even residual anxieties or fears left in her, just that familiar, burning desire for him.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I trust you. I want to try."

"Do you think you'll be able to cum?" Percy asked her. Orgasms for her required as much mental focus as they did physical stimulus. Go figure. The blindfold might get in the way of that focus.

Or it would intensify it.

"I'm not sure," Annabeth said. "This is uncharted territory."

"Alright," Percy said, kissing her lips this time. "If you want to stop, or if you want this thing --" she felt his hand brush gently over the fabric of the blindfold "--off, you know what to say."

"Yes," she promised. And then she lifted her hips to wrap her legs around him. Thankfully, he was actually where she expected him to be, and she captured him easily.

Percy chuckled, before grinding himself down on her center. They both still had pants on, but she never minded a bit of dry humping. It reminded her of those early, frantic days in the Poseidon cabin, when their adolescent desire met their equally adolescent trepidation.

"Fingers? Tongue? Something else?" Percy asked, pressing his smirking lips to hers.

Annabeth smiled back. "Surprise me," she said. He wasn't hard yet, though, so she figured it would be one of the first two.

Percy's hands slid down her sides to the waistband of her sleep shorts. She lifted her hips again and let him slide them off her.

"So pretty," he promised. "Just gorgeous."

She felt the bed shift under her and then she heard the bedside table drawer open. Something else. She should have thought of that.

A moment later, Percy's fingers dipped into her just enough to tease her before they slid up to her clit, the pressure feather-light and careful.

"Percy," she whined, wiggling a bit to try and get more.

"Easy baby, easy," Percy said, pinning one hip to the bed with a hand. "I'm right here," he reminded her, "I'm not going anywhere. And I'm going to take care of you."

Annabeth relaxed against the bed and took a few deep breaths, but her patience was wearing thin.

"Good girl," Percy promised. "It's just you and me. I've got you," he said, as she felt something hard and silicone bump up against her clit, replacing where his fingers had been. It was her small bullet, she guessed, the vibrator she mostly used when she had to travel for work without Percy. It wasn't on yet. "Yes?" Percy asked.

"Yes, please," Annabeth said, fighting the urge to press herself closer to it again.

It switched on to a low, steady vibration against her clit. Annabeth hummed, satisfied, resting her head back, and closing her eyes despite the blindfold to focus completely on the feeling.

"Gorgeous," Percy promised, "just beautiful."

She could hear him fumbling with his pants one handed, and then a relieved gasp.

"Are you touching yourself?" She asked, her words airy with pleasure as she imagined him so clearly in her minds eye -- Percy, flushed, pants shoved down to grab himself in his left hand, hard just at the sight of her. Her, tied up, naked, and blindfolded, probably dripping onto their bed sheets, wiggling with desire as he used her vibrator on her.

"Yeah," Percy groaned.

Annabeth licked her lips. "Are you hard?" She asked.

"Mostly," Percy said. Then she felt him sift, and suddenly his lips were on hers, and his mostly-hard cock was rubbing up against her belly. The vibrator slipped off her sweet spot for a moment, but the feeling of his hot dick against her, and the desperate press of his lips, his tongue in her mouth, did enough work in the meantime.

"Percy, I want to cum," Annabeth said.

"I want you to," he said back, pulling away to readjust the vibrator. Then, without warning, two fingers slipped in her and curled.

Annabeth almost wept with relief. "Yes!" She yelped. "Oh gods, please."

"I've got you," Percy promised, keeping the pace. "Once you cum, you can have whatever you want."

"I want you to fuck me," Annabeth said. "Hard, rough." He didn't usually like it too rough. It made him feel too aggressive, too dangerous, no matter what Annabeth told him she felt about it. But if she was facing her fears, he could face his.

"Yeah, okay," Percy said, "I will, I will, I promise."

"Gods, I need it so bad, Percy," Annabeth said, her voice whiny and almost pathetic with need.

"You have it," Percy promised. "I'm right here, wise girl, I'm always right here."

Something about that did it. Maybe it was the nickname. Maybe it was the promise. Maybe it was just all of him, always, right there for her, no matter what. Her orgasm washed over her, a satisfying release of need and anxiety and love.

"Good girl," Percy said, talking her through it, "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, her voice a bit hoarse. She felt the vibrator move off of her, and his fingers slipped out. Percy was moving again. She expected him to kiss her, but instead, she felt his two wet fingers against her lips. She opened up for him, and sucked him clean. She always thought she tasted pretty good. No wonder he liked eating her out so much.

"Are we keeping the blindfold on for the next part?" He asked, his mouth close to her ear, his voice a gruff whispered.

"Yes, I trust you," Annabeth promised.

In a flash, Percy shifted down a bit, grabbed both hips in his hands and lifted her up a bit. Annabeth felt his tip against her entrance, and she moaned like he was paying her for it. "Fuck, yes --" she said, before Percy sunk himself in deep and fucked the brat right out of her.

[xoxoemynn]

I came up with the idea for today's love fest over the weekend when I saw a lot of comments from people expressing sadness about the cancellation, and then also some embarrassment for feeling that way, or feeling alone in their emotions. I wanted to do something positive that felt personal and that would remind people that fandom isn't going anywhere.

Originally I thought to do it a few days after the WJW with DJenks, figuring we'd need another boost after that high wore off. Obviously the WJW didn't end up happening, but then I realized it was Rhys' birthday today, so that also felt like a great reason to spread a bit of love (not that you ever need a reason for that!).

And honestly, while the whole point was to make other people smile, the whole experience really boosted my own spirits tremendously. While stalking perusing everyone's blogs for inspo, I was reminded quite powerfully just how many extremely kind, talented, smart, funny, insightful, beautiful people there are in this fandom.

So I just want to say thank you. All of you who create gifs, make art, write fic, analyze the show, share shit posts, or reblog all of the above so we can see it again and again and again, you have made a difference in my fandom experience. With every post, you made me fall in love with Ed and Stede and the whole crew just a little bit more. Whether you're someone who's always in the tags or someone who prefers to quietly reblog, you have made my time here very special and I'm so grateful. 💕

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god, you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[circe69]

your first mission with simon ghost riley didn't go very well.

cw: smutty, ghosts a brat

the cell door you had been working to override had slammed in ghost's face, and at his attempt to open it, you could hear him mutter a curse under his breath.

"fuckin' hell."

"what happened?" you walked over to where he was, and once you tried to pull on the same door, you realized. you two were stuck in the cramped, dark and wet jail cell.

"fuck,” you exhaled and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"stop copying me, cunt."

"oh go to hell, ghost."

"no thanks, i'm trying to get as far away as possible from ya, baby."

you groan out in frustration and banged your head against one of the bars, the condensation sticking to your hair, and all ghost could do was chuckle at you.

"you're so fucking dense."

"eat shit," you hissed out as you swung a closed fist at his chest.

once you made contact, you knew that it was very possible it was your last moments before death.

simon crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the floor while shaking his head, "tsk," he took a step towards you, "always gotta be so physical," he shoved you back, causing your body to slam against the brick wall.

and guess what? you shoved him the fuck back.

"if you think for one second," you shoved him again, this time pulling his shoulder strap down so he was at eye level with you, "that I'm gonna let you throw me around just cause you want to, you're fucking hilarious. you've got a lotta nerve to even think about touching me, let alone push me back when I've pushed you first-“

ghost grabbed both of your arms from the front of you and shoved them behind your back, pushing your tits out from your shirt and right below his face. he looked down at your cleavage before bouncing back to your eyes, "y'wanna know what I think?" he spat right down the valley of your breasts and watched his saliva snake down your shirt, "i think you like it."

you squirmed under his weight, under his eyes. "fuck. you."

"you. wish."

ghost wasn't an idiot. he could feel the way you were rubbing your thighs together, how your pupils were dilating by the second and the soft pants coming out of your mouth.

"I'm saying all this, baby 'cause I know, if I were to fuck you right now, you'd probably be the best pussy I'd felt in years. maybe ever. I'd wanna take you home and do it over and over again until you're gasping for a break. I'd feed you well. id take care of you. I would fucking love you until death. but that's not who I am, and that's sure as fuck not who you are."

you watched his eyes gaze down to your lips as he lowered his head to yours.

"why not?" you whispered.

"because, baby, I don't fuck women who don't want to. I like wet pussy, not scared pussy. I want it hard and rough but I don't wanna break you forever. and unfortunately, I'll bet you a million dollars that if I reached down and checked right now, your sweet pussy wouldn't be wet. not even close. right?"

you gulped as his fingers realized one of your wrists and snaked down the side of your thigh, "that's a lot of money."

he slithered his hand back up to your waist band before sneaking a finger inside, "isn't it?" you could barely hear his smirk through his words over the intense volume of your heartbeat. you knew for a fact, that someone just lost a lot of money.

as ghost swiped a finger down the middle of your panties, he groaned, "fuck, I'm gonna be bankrupt aren't I?"

"its a stupid bet to make after spitting on a woman's tits."

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[gumii-bearr]

thinking about... ❝ roommates ❞

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), roommate!megumi, megumi is bad at feelings (who is surprised), subtle!alt!megumi, dick piercing (what who said that??), fingering, blowjob, alcohol

author's note: i freaking love this anon so i'm doing a drabble while i write the megumi car sex fic

── roommate!megumi who is super cold and dismissive when you first move in. you needed a place for college and your friend hooked it up but she neglected to tell you he was fucking hot.

── roommate!megumi barely talks to you, and when he does, it's brief and short and makes you think he hates you for some reason. but what you're really annoyed about is how attractive he is and he gives you nothing.

── roommate!megumi who is so fucking hot when he's fixing the sink or when he casually mentions your car is making a weird sound and he fixes it like it's nothing and shit– he takes his shirt off to wipe the grease off his hands and the man is sex on a stick with ink adorning his body like some kind of emo greek god.

── roommate!megumi who comes back from the gym in compression shirts and low hanging sweatpants and you're trying to focus on your college assignment but he's being really distracting when he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, showing off his sculpted abs.

── you're starting to think he's doing it on purpose when he wordlessly brings you takeout or offers to drive you to campus when it's raining because "driving in this weather would be fucking stupid."

── but things are still weird between you and roommate!megumi because even tho he can be strangely considerate, he's also impossible to read. that is why you buy him a fancy bottle of liquor to thank him for letting you stay in the spare room.

── roommate!megumi who loosens up after a little alcohol, take out and movies, the two of you talking and drinking until well into the night.

── roommate!megumi who gets a little bold, moving some of your hair out of your face and telling you that you're cute when you get flustered because he's not dumb, he sees your sly glances and how you choke on air when he walks into the kitchen without a shirt on.

── but also roommate!megumi who is just as fucking guilty of checking you out when you come home from the club with your friends in a tiny fucking dress and heels, or when you lounge around in the tiniest shorts he's ever seen and a tight tank top.

── you operating on liquid courage and finally admitting that you find him pretty hot, "you gotta know i'm into you by now, fushiguro."

── roommate!megumi who thinks you're so cute, "yeah, i can tell." and he's running his thumb over your lips and suddenly you two are tipsy and clumsily making out on the couch.

── roommate!megumi who is so handsy, groping your tits through your shirt, grabbing at the flesh of your ass over your flimsy pyjama pants and manhandling you into his lap to grab at your hips and pull your shirt over your head.

── roommate!megumi who always wears rings on his fingers and they're so cold against your warm skin as he plays with your tits and pushes his hand down your panties.

── roommate!megumi who gets you off on his fingers alone while you whine and hump against his hard-on.

── and roommate!megumi who presses his fingers against your tongue until you suck his fingers clean of your arousal.

── and now you're sliding down his body until you're perched between his legs on your knees, his fingers tangling in your hair as he chuckles at your still quivering legs and hands as you reach for his hard cock in his boxers.

── and of course, roommate!megumi who has a secret frenum piercing. a cute silver barbell staring you dead in the eyes.

── and while you're beyond intimidated, you're fucking salivating at the idea of having him down your throat, but knowing you, you've always gotta be a teasing smart ass, "didn't take you for a jewellery kinda guy, megumi."

── roommate!megumi who chuckles lowly and sits back, "piercing isn't for me, baby."

── roommate!megumi who quickly becomes your scary dog privilege boyfriend and fucks you against every surface in your apartment like his life fucking depends on it.

author's note: and they were roommates (p.s. should i make this a series?? cus he got me feelin some typa wayyy)

[medicinemane]

I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)

I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever

I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad

I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with

I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things

So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here

[webism]

Virgin!Nanami is hesitant the first time you go down on him, because as he's nearing his (blinding, world shattering) orgasm, you aren't pulling off of him.

He's played the scene a million times in his head before, late at night as he palmed his cock through his boxers and tried to will his mind away from such lewd thoughts of you. In every fantasy he had of you on your knees like you are now, you serve him with your mouth until he's close, and then pull off to stroke him through his orgasm.

But your lips are still wrapped around him. His ragged breath, the gentle buck of his hips up into your mouth... is it not indication enough that he's about to unravel? Kento has to lick his lips to try and save his dry mouth before he speaks, though it comes out as more of a broken moan. "Sweetheart, I'm... so close."

And you hum around his cock, send a vibration up his spine that has his eyes rolling back. You hollow out your cheeks and increase your pace, desperate for a taste.

It's too much, he's never felt so boneless. His vision is already going, he's right on the edge of the strongest orgasm he's had in his life when he gently tugs back on your hair. "Stop, stop."

Of course, you're off of him instantly, wiping your spit-sheened lips dry and watching Kento wide eyes. "Are you okay? Too much?"

Kento is breathless, his cresting orgasm quickly fading out of reach. "You didn't pull away. I was going to..."

"I know," you nod, a gentle hand on his knee something soothing. "What, you don't want to cum?"

He blinks. "No, I... not in your mouth. I respect you, and I don't want you to sacrifice your comfort for me."

And you can't help but grin at the serious look strewn across his face. You lean down and press a kiss to his knee, and then higher up on his thigh, and another just above the patch of hair that bases his leaky cock.

"Kento Nanami," you look up at him, and press a feather-light kiss to his tip. "If you don't cum in my mouth, I will cry. I wanna taste more of you."

Your words alone are enough to relight that fire licking at his insides. He watches you for a moment, tries to discern whether or not you're speaking only to please him, but ultimately nods.

When you take him back into your mouth, all the way down to the base, Kento swears he must've been a saint in his previous life to deserve such pleasure in this one. You trace the vein that runs under his length with your tongue, and then suck on his cock as if you're trying to milk him dry.

When he cums, it's with a loud and uncharacteristically whiney moan that makes you wonder how he sounds begging. You taste his cum on your tongue, feel as he shoots it into your mouth, his dick throbbing and balls tightening in the same regard.

He's already overstimulated, panicking a little at the new subtle pain of more, and although he thinks he likes it, you know it'll be too much for his first time. You pull off of him, careful to spill as little of his release as possible, and sit back on your heels.

And Kento is a mess, lips parted as he watches your pull into a greedy smile. He's eager to watch you spit him out, perhaps a testament to the fact he was inside of you. But you meet his eyes, let him sit on your tongue a moment longer, and then swallow.

He's hard all over again, he wonders how he'll ever lead a normal life again after a sight like that. His mouth is dry, cock still wet with your spit, heart beating near out of his chest.

Still, he manages to stop you when you move to get up and start on his aftercare. "Wait," his voice is small, he's nervous.

You raise your eyebrows, "yes, Ken?"

"I want to taste you, too."

hi @angxlsatvrn

[rafeysbunny]

brother's bsf!rafe popping your cherry

there is absolutely nothing that rafe craves more than to fuck you, his best friend's little sister. he knows it is wrong, but he can't help himself when you're so fucking pretty, always wandering around in those cute little skirts and tops you like to wear, round tits almost spilling out of the thin fabric.

god, he's so obsessed with you.

you're always in his mind, all the fucking time, the thought of you haunting him every night when he goes to bed. and every single one of those nights, he ends up jerking off at the thought of you, like a bloody perv, to be able to finally fall asleep.

he knows topper'd kill him if he ever finds out about his massive crush on his baby sister, but that fact doesn't stop him from getting you alone in your guest bathroom as soon as the alcohol knocks your brother out cold on the couch. and now he has your gorgeous body pinned against the sink, the party still in full swing outside in your house while you two sloppily make out.

he's hard as a rock inside his slacks just by kissing you, the taste of your cherry chapstick lingering in your plump lips, as if you weren't just sweet enough already. it doesn't help his case the way you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his as he grips your hips tightly, which has the silky fabric of your skirt all crumpled.

he tears his lips away from yours, panting heavily as he stares down at you with pure lust in his eyes. "fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful..." he reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "listen to me, baby."

you hum dumbly in response, not really paying attention to what he's saying, you just want his lips back on yours so, so bad. your small hands fist his expensive polo, bambi eyes staring shamelessly at his mouth as you watch him talk; his words not really registering.

"hey. hey, sweetheart, eyes up here..." he taps your chin with his finger. "i need you to tell me that you want this too, a'right?"

your dazed eyes dart up to meet his blue ones while you nod obediently, your thick, long lashes fluttering in his direction. "i want it, rafe," you mutter softly, pretty voice filling in the silence of the bathroom.

his eyes darken, pupils dilating when he hears the words he's been longing to hear for months now and the intensity of his gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. "that's a good girl..."

before you know it, he has you bent over the countertop, skirt pulled up 'round your waist as he fucks your pussy with his thick fingers to stretch you out. you've got the tightest cunt he's ever put his digits into, which has his cock throbbing painfully in anticipation.

despite how bad he needs to sink into you, he forces himself to give you at least one orgasm with his fingers before he yanks his pants down and slowly pushes his dick inside your sopping hole, the feeling almost too good to be real. he thrusts into you one time, two, then three, your pussy squelching lewdly around him, and his whole body feels on fire.

is this what heaven feels like? yeah, it probably is.

he'd fuck you dumb, big hand shoving your pretty face against the cool marble as he pounds your pussy into oblivion until you're creaming all over his dick, flushed cheeks stained with tears.

"such a good girl f’me," he praises as he pulls out to finish on your plush ass, thick ropes of cum painting your smooth flesh.

more.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

LINGER

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: a sweet, introverted bartender and obx’s very own troubled golden boy share an unspoken connection—until jealousy, misunderstandings, and unspoken feelings finally push them to confront the truth.

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy anon, and i hope it’s what you asked for :)

WARNINGS: brief angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, topper being annoying, jealous!rafe, jj being flirty with reader😝, “love” confessions, rafe not feeling good enough, mutual pining, but a cute fluffy end !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 3.8k (i got REALLY carried away !!)

THIRD PERSON +

The hum of conversation filled the bar on Figure 8, mingling with the low beats of a classic rock playlist. It was a quieter night than usual, with only a handful of regulars clustered at tables and the occasional newcomer drifting in. Y/N stood behind the bar, wiping down the polished surface even though it hardly needed cleaning. She wasn't one to sit idle, and, truth be told, she was grateful for something to do.

The nights when Rafe Cameron came in made it nearly impossible for her to relax.

He was seated at the far end of the bar now, nursing a drink he didn't seem all that interested in. His sharp jawline caught the low light, the curve of his lips tugged into what might have been a smirk—or perhaps he was just lost in thought. Either way, Y/N found it difficult not to glance at him every few minutes, only to whip her gaze away whenever his blue eyes threatened to meet hers.

She knew his routine well by now. Rafe always came in alone, usually later in the evening when the crowd had thinned out. He was polite—surprisingly so—but there was something about him that felt dangerous, like a storm rolling in just beyond the horizon. The other bartenders whispered about him when he wasn't around, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to the gossip. She only knew what she saw: a man who lingered a little too long, who seemed to light up when she stumbled through small talk, who always tipped well even though she was sure she got his drink orders wrong half the time.

Tonight, as she fiddled nervously with the sleeves of her long sleeve tee, she could feel his eyes on her. She braced herself, stealing one more calming breath before walking toward his side of the bar.

"Need a refill, Rafe?" she asked, her voice barely louder than the music.

Rafe looked up, his expression softening the moment he saw her. "Yeah," he said, pushing his glass forward. "Same thing as before, please."

Y/N nodded quickly and reached for the bottle of bourbon, her hands trembling slightly as she poured. She could feel his gaze burning into her, the weight of his attention making her heart pound in her chest.

"Long night?" he asked suddenly, his voice smooth but laced with something almost boyish.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, nearly sloshing the liquor over the rim of his glass. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sort of."

"You're always working so hard," he remarked, leaning forward just a fraction. "Not sure I've ever seen you take a break."

Her cheeks burned as she scrambled to wipe up a stray droplet of bourbon with the edge of her towel. "It's not so bad," she said quickly. "I don't mind staying busy."

"You're good at it," he said, and there was an odd sincerity in his voice that made her stomach twist. "The bartending, I mean. You've got this... thing. Like, you make people feel comfortable."

Y/N froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren't something she received often, and especially not from someone like Rafe Cameron. She fumbled with the garnish tray, pulling out a cherry and dropping it into his glass with shaking fingers.

"Thanks," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He smiled then—a real, crooked smile that softened the edges of his typically hard demeanor. "I mean it," he said, taking the drink from her. His fingers brushed hers, just barely, but the contact sent a shiver down her spine. "You're easy to talk to, even when you're... y'know, kind of shy."

She blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh or apologise. Instead, she ducked her head, the warm feeling in her cheeks creeping up to her ears. "I, uh... I'm not great at talking. Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, his voice low and warm. "It's cute."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she was sure she'd imagined the way he looked at her—like she was something worth noticing. But before she could respond, the sound of someone calling her name from the other end of the bar jolted her back to reality. She muttered a quick excuse and darted away, her heart racing as she busied herself with another customer.

Rafe watched her go, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He hated how his chest tightened whenever she was near, how he felt like a nervous wreck every time she so much as glanced in his direction. She was sweet, kind-hearted, and far too good for someone like him.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself from lingering.

An hour later, the bar had grown busier, and Y/N found herself working harder to avoid Rafe's gaze. She didn't notice the arrival of Topper Thornton until his voice boomed across the room, drawing Rafe's attention.

Rafe liked watching her. She was different from anyone else he knew—a little clumsy, a little shy, but always kind. Too kind, he thought, for someone like him. She didn't belong to the same cutthroat world of backstabbing and manipulation that he did. She was sunshine, soft and untouchable, and every time he caught himself staring too long, he felt like a thief.

He didn't deserve her.

"Yo, Rafe!" Topper's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and grating. Rafe turned to see his best friend approaching with a blonde girl in tow. She was pretty in a polished, effortless way—designer dress, manicured nails, a confident smile that screamed old money.

"This is Whitney," Topper announced, nudging Rafe's shoulder. "Told her you've been a free agent too long."

Rafe forced a tight smile, shaking Whitney's hand. She was pretty, sure. She had that typical Kook look, all high cheekbones and cold elegance. But she didn't spark anything in him. Not like Y/N did.

"Hi," Whitney said, her voice lilting with practiced charm.

"Hey," Rafe replied, stealing a glance back at the bar.

Y/N had seen it all—the introduction, the way Whitney tilted her head flirtatiously, the way Topper patted Rafe on the back like he'd just scored a win. Her heart sank, and she turned her attention to cleaning the counter with exaggerated focus, hoping to block out the scene playing out before her.

It was stupid to feel this way. She and Rafe weren't anything, not really. He was just a customer, and she was the awkward bartender who could barely string a sentence together around him. But seeing him with someone else, someone who seemed to fit so effortlessly into his world, made her chest tighten painfully.

When Rafe returned to the bar for another drink, Y/N kept her head down. Her usual nervous warmth was replaced by a cold efficiency as she mixed his order.

"Here," she said curtly, sliding the glass across the counter without looking up.

Rafe frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine."

He hesitated, searching her face for something—anything—that would explain the sudden change in her demeanor. But she didn't give him the chance to linger this time, quickly turning away to serve another customer.

Rafe's stomach twisted. She was shutting him out, and he didn't know why. Was it Whitney? Did she think he liked her? He didn't, not in the way he liked Y/N. But how could he explain that without sounding like an idiot? What was he even thinking? They weren't even together.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of frustration and longing. Whitney clung to Rafe's arm, laughing at his half-hearted jokes and batting her lashes at him, but he barely noticed. His focus was on Y/N—on the way she avoided his gaze, the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced politeness in her voice whenever he ordered another drink.

She hated him now. He was sure of it.

"Rafe, are you even listening?" Whitney's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Yeah," he lied, forcing a tight smile.

But he wasn't. His mind was with Y/N, replaying every moment of the night, searching for the moment he'd ruined everything.

—

The crisp night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she stepped out of the bar, her breath curling in wispy clouds before vanishing into the dark. The quiet of the island after hours was always a comfort, the distant crash of waves on the shore a reminder of home. But tonight, no amount of serene surroundings could quiet the ache twisting in her chest.

She tightened her coat around her as she walked to her car, her mind replaying the evening in an endless loop. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Rafe Cameron in the bar. She'd grown used to his presence, even come to anticipate it with a nervous sort of excitement. But tonight was different. Tonight, he hadn't been alone.

Y/N hated the way her stomach had dropped at the sight of the blonde girl—Whitney, as she'd overheard Topper call her—clinging to Rafe's arm, her perfectly manicured nails resting on his bicep like she had every right to be there. The girl was beautiful, confident, and poised in a way Y/N knew she could never be. She was everything a Kook girl was supposed to be, and everything Y/N wasn't.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she drove home, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement doing little to soothe her. She felt ridiculous, stupid even, for letting herself feel this way. Rafe wasn't hers, and he never would be. He was just a guy who came into the bar, a customer she barely knew beyond the surface. But that wasn't entirely true, was it?

The way he lingered at the bar, the way he seemed to soften when he talked to her, the way he looked at her like she was someone worth noticing—it had all felt so real. She couldn't help but replay every stolen glance, every hesitant smile, every compliment he'd offered in his quiet, almost bashful way.

But now, all of that felt like a cruel joke. Maybe she'd imagined it, read too much into his kindness because she wanted to believe it was something more. Maybe he'd been looking at her out of boredom, not interest. Maybe he had never thought about her at all.

Her throat tightened, and she blinked hard against the sting of tears. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how easily her emotions betrayed her. She had always prided herself on being independent, on not needing anyone's validation. But Rafe Cameron had slipped past her defenses, and now she was paying the price for letting him linger in her thoughts and feelings.

By the time she reached her small, cozy house, the weight in her chest had settled into a dull ache. She dropped her keys on the counter and sank onto the couch, her thoughts still swirling like a storm. Her parents had always supported her decision to work, even though she could have easily coasted on their wealth like so many other Kooks. She liked earning her own way, proving to herself and the world that she was more than just another privileged kid on Figure 8.

But tonight, she felt small and insignificant, like the world was reminding her that she didn't belong in Rafe Cameron's orbit. He was a hurricane, magnetic and destructive, and she was just a quiet breeze, unnoticed and easily forgotten.

And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.

—

The door to Rafe's house closed with a heavy thud, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh as he leaned against it. The evening had been a disaster, but it wasn't because of Whitney. In fact, he could hardly remember a single thing she'd said. His mind had been elsewhere all night, fixated on the one thing he couldn't stop thinking about: Y/N.

He pushed off the door and made his way to the kitchen, the silence of the house pressing in around him. His family was used to him coming and going at odd hours, and tonight he was grateful for the solitude. Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned against the counter, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

Y/N had been different tonight, and it had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. She'd barely looked at him, her usual shy, awkward charm replaced by a cold formality that felt like a punch to the gut. He replayed the moment over and over, searching for the exact second he must have done something to upset her.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realised it wasn't just her behavior that had unsettled him—it was how much it had affected him.

He liked her. He really, truly liked her. It was a quiet, consuming sort of affection that had taken him by surprise. At first, it had been easy to dismiss—the way his chest tightened when she smiled, the way his heart raced whenever their fingers brushed. But now, after months of stolen moments and lingering glances, he couldn't deny it anymore.

He thought about the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way her cheeks flushed whenever he managed to fluster her. She was kind in a way that felt rare, genuine in a way that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't beyond redemption.

But tonight, all of that had felt out of reach.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Whitney had been a mistake—a distraction Topper had pushed on him that he never should have agreed to. She'd been all wrong from the start, her shallow questions and empty compliments grating on his nerves. She didn't care about him; she cared about the idea of him, the money and status he represented.

But Y/N... Y/N had never treated him like that. She didn't care about his family name or his bank account. She didn't try to impress him or play games. She was just herself, awkward and sweet and so genuine it made his chest ache.

And now, he might have ruined everything.

The thought made his stomach churn. He didn't know how to fix it, didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him the way she had tonight—like he was a stranger, someone unworthy of her time.

Rafe set the empty glass down on the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't used to feeling this way, vulnerable and uncertain. But Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of making him question everything he thought he knew about himself.

He didn't deserve her, not really. But he couldn't stop himself from wanting her anyway.

As he climbed the stairs to his room, his thoughts were filled with her—her shy smiles, her quiet laughter, the way she made him feel like maybe he could be something more than the mess he'd become. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: Y/N had changed him, and there was no going back.

—

Four days. Four endless, suffocating days.

Rafe Cameron had returned to the bar every single night since that dreadful evening, but each time, there was no sign of Y/N. It didn't sit right with him. The place didn't feel the same without her. She wasn't just another bartender—she was the lifeblood of the space, her sweet, slightly awkward energy drawing customers like moths to a flame.

But now, the warmth was gone. Without her behind the counter, it was just another dimly lit establishment, all noise and no soul.

By the fourth night, his restlessness was unbearable. He stepped into the bar, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. This time, she was there. Relief flooded him so quickly it was almost dizzying.

And then he saw who she was talking to.

Y/N was behind the bar, giggling softly as she leaned in closer to none other than JJ Maybank. Her hair slipped forward as she laughed, and she quickly brushed it out of her face, a move Rafe had seen her do countless times. It always left him breathless.

But this time, the sight filled him with a searing, unfamiliar rage.

What the hell was Maybank doing here? This was Kook territory, not The Cut. And worse, what was he doing talking to Y/N like that? The way JJ was leaning against the bar, all easy charm and flirtation, made Rafe's blood boil. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached as he watched JJ flash her one of his trademark smirks.

Rafe's fists tightened at his sides as he stalked over.

The second Y/N noticed him, her expression changed. The soft laughter disappeared, replaced by something guarded and uncertain. The shift stung more than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't here to dwell on it. His eyes flicked to JJ, narrowing with disdain.

"Well, if it isn't JJ Maybank," Rafe drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Didn't think you'd ever cross the bridge willingly."

JJ turned, unfazed, and smirked. "What can I say? The service here's worth it." He shot Y/N a wink, which only made Rafe's temper flare.

"Sure it is," Rafe muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving JJ. The air between them crackled with tension, but eventually, JJ shrugged and pushed off the bar.

"I'll catch you later, Y/N," JJ said casually before heading toward the group of Pogues gathered in the corner.

Rafe watched him go, his shoulders rigid with suppressed anger. When he finally turned back to Y/N, her expression was unreadable.

"Something I can get you, Cameron?" she asked coolly, her usual warmth noticeably absent.

Rafe hesitated for a moment before leaning on the bar. "Whiskey, neat—Please."

As she poured his drink, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "What was he even doing here?"

Y/N glanced up briefly, her expression neutral. "JJ's been here before. He's not exactly banned from Kookland, you know."

Rafe scoffed but didn't press the matter further. The silence between them was suffocating, and it took everything in him to break it.

"How's it been?" he asked, his voice softer now. "I uh, haven't seen ya' around."

She gave him a quick, noncommittal shrug. "Been busy."

The coldness in her tone stung, but Rafe couldn't let it go. He needed to understand what had changed.

"Look," he began, his voice low, "I feel like maybe I upset you the other night. Was it... Was it the girl?"

Y/N froze for a split second before resuming her task, but Rafe didn't miss the way her jaw tightened.

"How was your date, by the way?" she asked, her tone deceptively light.

"It wasn't a date," Rafe said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "Rafe, come on. It very clearly was. She was practically glued to your side."

"It wasn't," he insisted, his voice firm. "Topper set it up. I didn't even want to go, and I haven't spoken to her since." He hesitated, his blue eyes meeting hers. "She's not really my type."

Something in his tone gave Y/N pause, but she was too hurt to let it show. "Right," she said flatly.

Before she could say more, Rafe's next question caught her off guard. "Are you seeing JJ?"

Her brows furrowed as she stared at him. "What?"

"Are you seeing him?" he repeated, his voice tense.

"No," she said slowly, setting her hands on the counter. "But he did ask me on a date."

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "Don't go."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms. "Why not?"

Rafe faltered, the confidence he'd managed to muster evaporating under her sharp gaze. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

"Exactly," she said bitterly, turning away to busy herself with a drink. "That's what I thought."

"Wait," Rafe said suddenly, his voice rough with desperation. "It's not— I..." He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bar. "I like you, okay?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw.

Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Rafe looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I've been nervous to tell you because... because you're too good for me. You're sweet and kind, and I'm—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I'm not. I've got a lot of darkness, Y/N. I don't want to drag you into it or hurt you."

His voice cracked slightly, and he finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with vulnerability. "I don't want to break you."

For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything, the weight of his confession sinking in. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "You're not going to break me, Rafe."

His brows furrowed as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was quiet resolve.

"I can see the heart in you," she continued, her gaze steady. "You're different when you're around me, and I know it's real. You don't have to be scared of that."

Rafe's shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing over him like a wave.

"And for the record," she added with a small smile, "I'm not interested in JJ. He's been trying to win me over for a while now, but... it was never going to happen."

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Good," he muttered, his voice low.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. "Do you have something to ask me, Rafe Cameron?" she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Will you go out with me?"

Y/N's smile widened as she nodded. "Yeah. I will."

The tension between them melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt both new and inevitable. For the first time in days, Rafe felt like he could breathe again, and Y/N couldn't stop the warmth blooming in her chest.

As the bar buzzed around them, they stood in their own little world, the first fragile threads of something real beginning to weave between them.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i hope you enjoyed this anon !! i had sm fun writing this and thought it was a super sweet plot/concept so thank you for trusting me with it <3

still working my way through requests whilst also working on my little drew starkey mini series (sports car) so please be patient w me my loves :) but also still request any ideas you have ofc !!