#and it took so much effort and i kept thinking about how Fucking Tired i am and how frustrating it is that playing cards w family

[vickytaa]

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter V

summery: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

Last chapter!

After walking for a few minutes, I arrived at the triplets' house. Standing in front of the door, hesitating whether to enter or not. It broke my heart to know that Matt was bad, he wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he wasn't leaving the room, he wasn't living. But what happened that night hurt me too... I hesitated, maybe too much, but in the end I decided to knock on the door. A few seconds later, Nick opened the door and was a little excited to see that I had come. He smiled at me and hugged me gently. "Thanks for coming, he's... well, you know. If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me," Nick said, his face showed that he was a little better than before, a little relieved that I had come. I nodded and returned the smile, "Yes... I don't know if it's too much to ask, but can you go somewhere? It's just for a while, I really want to talk to him alone." I said without thinking twice. "Sure, I'll go get Chris and we'll go somewhere nearby," Nick said, and when he finished, he headed towards Chris's room.

I climbed the stairs and stood in the living room. What am I going to say to him? Will he want to talk to me? I didn't know what to talk about, how to start, how to act, nothing. A few minutes later, Nick and Chris entered the living room, both greeted me and smiled. "Thank you, really," Chris said, his eyes were red and he looked tired. It was clear that they had both been doing everything they could to keep Matt from being like this, to no avail. Together they hugged me and said goodbye.

When I heard the door close, all the pressure in my body suddenly rose. My head started to ache intensely, and my body stopped working altogether. Panic and nervousness took over me. And once again, I was there, standing still in front of Matt's room door. I took a deep breath, 'it's now, Y/n' I thought. I couldn't waste any more time. I knocked on the door.

Silence.

Is he asleep? Or maybe he's ignoring me... but did he know I was coming? New thoughts kept popping up. What do I do now? I knocked again, and then I thought about it. 'Fuck'. Surely, he wants to be alone and not be bothered. Or maybe he's dying for a hug.

Silence, again.

I think that's a sign to leave... I don't know if he really wants me here. I took a step back without thinking twice, it's time to go. But in my mind, the moments we spent together were repeated over and over again, the sincerity in his eyes whenever he told me he loved me, his desperate messages, his eyes, his face, the image of him begging me on his knees not to leave, his loud cry when I decided to go... I couldn't let him alone again. I couldn't lose someone else without fighting for that person. So I took courage and slowly opened his door, to find him asleep, his eyes red and swollen from the hours he spent crying, his messy room, a photo of our first date printed on his nightstand, his stuffed animal in his arms, it was all too much. I made a great effort to keep my tears from falling, finding him this way was drowning my heart.

Slowly and quietly, I entered the room and sat on the other side of the bed. Now his back was facing me. His room seemed... dead. Lights off, food and drinks on the floor, clothes thrown everywhere, everything messy, he looked the same, they both lacked love. I didn't know what else to do, but I was sure Matt needed company. So I started to lie down, getting closer and closer to him, and hugged him around the waist with one of my arms, my exhaled air going directly to the back of his neck. After a few seconds, I felt Matt grab my arm and realized it was me who was there. He turned to face me and couldn't hold back the tears.

All this time, being apart has been a complete hell for both of us.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold mine back and they finally rolled down my face. With the little strength I had at that moment, I brought my hands to his face to hold it, and joined our lips in a soft kiss full of feelings that couldn't be described in words. Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me as close as possible, afraid that I would leave again. When we separated, neither of us said anything, I didn't know what to say, I just wanted to enjoy the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, which he followed and hugged me tighter. Then, without letting go, Matt buried his face in my neck and I started to caress his hair.

"I really missed you," Matt said, breaking the silence. "Me too," I said, continuing to play with his hair. We returned to silence, and Matt relaxed a little. Suddenly, seeing the photo on his nightstand again, I remembered our first date; both of us looking into each other's eyes while my favorite song played in the background: "Sailor Song." Without thinking, I started to sing it, so softly, almost like a whisper. Bringing back memories of all the moments together, the good and the bad. I felt Matt's grip tighten a little. We both wanted all this to have been a bad dream, that in reality none of this had happened and we would continue our relationship happily. But like any relationship, there were problems, fights, happy and sad moments.

A few hours later, I felt Matt move a little. "What's wrong?" I said in a tired tone, but soft as always. "I want to be like this forever. And if I can be even closer, even better," Matt said, pulling away from my neck to meet my face and cross glances. A big smile full of love spread across his face. "I don't think you can get any closer than this," I said, laughing softly. He laughed with me, "How not?" he said, teasingly, and buried himself in my neck again, his grip on my waist tightened and pulled me impossibly closer. I just laughed and enjoyed the moment, I hadn't laughed in a long time.

Without realizing it, the door opened and Nick and Chris entered the room, both happy that their brother could finally laugh again. "I knew they were going to figure it out," Nick said. Matt moved away from me a little and turned to face his two brothers smiling. "Thank you," he said, a little embarrassed now that he realized his room was a mess, and he had acted like a zombie these days. Matt turned back to me and kissed me, this time harder than before, but with a meaning beyond love for me, if not as if to say thank you.

And in the end, maybe for my dad, music kept him alive, but for me, Matt kept me alive.

A/n: I hope u liked this series! This chapter is way shorter than the lasts... I really appreciate all the support you give to this series.

Love yall:))

[shirogane-oushirou]

[cw vent: chronic illness, general world politics mention w no detail)

"man. i'm so tired. i feel like i can't do anything selfship related. is it because my energy's been sapped from family visiting and everyone wanting to do ~summer activities~ nonstop? am i so in my head about "getting ren's story right without stepping over any lines" that i've backed myself into a perfectionist corner? is the world just going to shit so hard that i can't have one (1) minute of escape on this blog before going back to working through the political hellscape we're in? god even trying to make this plushie pattern is killing me even though i want to hold my guy So Badly AUGH."

/finishes the plushie pattern after trying multiple body bases and literally buying a japanese ebook about plushie face and hair design/

"actually what if i lived forever and spent all of that time making an army of these fuckers to swim in? what then?"

[bbyhellfire]

curiosity gets the best of eddie when he finds your hitachi (18+ only)

perv!eddie munson x fem!reader, eddie has a bilbo baggins 'why shouldn't i?' moment, male masturbation, prostate stimulation, imaginary bj and p in v, unrequited love, he's gross and pathetic and lovesick (don't use your friend's sex toys w/o their permission), no beta this is not that serious

Eddie could qualify for the Olympics with the amount of hoops he’s jumping through.

He gets it. Laying naked in your friend’s bed as you debate whether or not to use their sex toy is not a good look. But it’s not like that, okay? 

Listen.

First of all, he did not break in. He’s staying at your apartment to watch your cat while you’re out of town. Him lounging in your bed isn’t weird, it's expected.

He wasn’t snooping, either. He was searching. After spending the day hunched over a Ford Taurus, his aching back was demanding he find that bottle of ibuprofen you kept on your nightstand. And when it wasn't in its usual spot, the only logical next step was for Eddie to check your nightstand's drawer. And he did find the ibuprofen, thank you very much. He just also found something else. 

It was hard not to notice. Not just because Hitachi wands are bulky, but because it was sitting right there in the open. No clothes or knick-knacks to hide it, just...there. And he knows what it is. He's seen enough porn to know when he's face to face with a Hitachi.

See? He's not some creep who can't control his crush. He wasn't looking for your sex toy, it found him.

And he tried to forget about it. Really. Slammed the drawer closed so so quickly he almost smashed his fingers. He even took a long, ice cold shower to keep himself from chubbing up. Thought about anything and everything except for his recent discovery– car transmissions, his next DnD campaign, Wrestlemania, Wayne's mug collection, anything to get his mind off of you. Which is easier said than done when he’s using your soap to scrub away the car grime and shame.

It's no wonder his cock remains semi-hard for the rest of the evening. He discovered his crush’s vibrator. Who moves on from that? Like, are you really pining over your friend if you aren't hyperfixating on their sex toy?

Besides, Eddie is a naturally curious person. He’s seen his fair share of porn and all the actors seem to have a grand ol’ time when there's a Hitachi between their legs. He wouldn’t mind trying one himself, but they’re expensive. Sure, he’s got a stable job at Thacher Tire, but he’s not in a tax bracket where he can drop $100 on casual curiosity. 

But now…

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, he reasons, thumb ghosting over the power button in debate. That logic is how he ends up in his current position – naked in your bed with his cock resting against his tummy as he inspects your wand.

It’s heavier than he imagined, the noticeable weight only rivaled by the angel on his shoulder yelling at him to put it back. But it's your toy. He's had a crush on your longer than he'd like to admit. And no matter how many times Steve pushes him to ask you out, he's certain you don't feel the same. You're just friends, and this might be his only opportunity to know you on a more intimate level.

A fucked up, kinda gross and intrusive opportunity, but still. Beggars can't be choosers.

And right now, Eddie can't help thinking how it's oh so very interesting that you left your wand out in the first place. You knew he’d be staying at your place, sleeping in your bed. There was a chance he’d stumble across it. You could have made an effort to hide it, but you didn't. You left it there for anyone to see, for Eddie to see. 

Did you want him to find it? Did you want him to think of you using it?

Because if that was your plan, it's sure as hell working. His last functioning brain cell work to conjure up various images of you laid out in the very spot he is now in, pleasuring yourself until your whole body shakes and your thighs are drenched.

Wait, could you squirt?

The women in porn usually squirt. Even the men come so hard it hits the ceiling. He shifts in your bed, imaging the pretty green sheets beneath him soaked with your juices as he brings the wand closer to his face.

The buttons are a little faded and there are some tiny scratches, but no major signs of use. The wand is clean, and obviously cared for. Which now has Eddie thinking how long you've had it. How often do you use it? Enough to make the plastic smell like you? He wonders…

Smashing his nose against the plastic, he inhales until his lungs balloon out. The smell of plastic hit him first, following by a muted scent that tickles his nostrils. Natural musk and sweat.

Jesus H. Christ, he is smelling you. 

He can’t bite back the low rumble from escaping, groaning as if he's being tortured. His cock twitches against his tummy, a fat pearl of precum budding at the tip. There’s no turning back now. Not when he kitten licks the bulbous head picturing your cunt in its place. He thinks of how good you'd taste, how wet and shiny you'd be as he dips into your hole.

Fuck it. It’s a one time thing. You won’t be home for another two days. The only potential witness to his debauchery is your cat, and they’re too distracted with a catnip toy in your living room.

“No one will know, they won’t,” He tells himself, taking one final sniff before grabbing a hold of his cock. He might not be able to step foot into your bedroom ever again, and there's a chance he won't be able to look you in the eyes, but, hey, that’s a problem for future Eddie.

It takes him a second to find a comfortable position, eventually settling to hold the wand perpendicular to his cock as he leans back against the headboard.

Just once to know what it feels like, he thinks. There is about a centimeter of space between the wand and his cock, but it's still close enough to make his breath hitch when he pushes down on the power button.

“Fuck!”

His stomach seizes, muscles tightening so violently he all but sits up. Jerking the wand away from him, he tries to compose himself as the toy makes his entire arm shake. It’s embarrassingly loud even on the lowest setting, but holy shit is it powerful. It hadn’t even touched him, but Eddie still shook in shocked bliss. He and an ex occasionally messed around with a mini pocket vibrator, but this. This is otherworldly.

And perhaps now would be a good place to stop. He's tried it, knows it could raise the dead. Pack it in, Munson. Put it back where you found it. Right?

Right.

Except his lack of self-control has doubled in size and devoured the last crumb of common sense he possessed. He's already started, might as well finish. He's already corrupted your friendship, at least let him get an orgasm out of it.

This time he lets the wand kiss his cock to send brutal ripples across his throbbing erection. With motorized tremors traveling all the way down to his balls, he imagines you on your knees, working his pants and boxers down so you could take out his cock. You bring him towards your mouth, stopping mere centimeters away, much like he had done with the wand. Your hot breath is fanning out against the underside of his cock as you say, “You have such a pretty cock, Eddie. Can I kiss it?”

“Y–yeah. Go on, sweetheart.”

As Imaginary You kisses the tip, he pulls the wand back just enough to dull the pulsing. He pretends the sensation is your mouth, kissing all the way around his tip. Down and around until your lips shine with his precum.

His groans are barely audible above the loud buzzing. He keeps his cock still, letting the wand trace the path of a particularly thick vein as he pretends it's your tongue. He imagines stroking the back of your head, coaxing you to take him into your mouth.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock. D'you know that?” 

You move your head in a disjointed nod, tears puddling in the corners of your eyes as the warmth of your mouth envelopes him. His fist tightens around his cock at the thought of you moaning with your mouth stuffed of him.

“Go on, you can take a little more.” 

It's not the vibrator that is shooting sparks of arousal through his cock, it's you and your moans. He ruminates on his fantasy, imagines you kissing and sucking like he's your favorite flavor of ice cream. Slowly moving the wand up and down until he’s built up the courage to take the wand lower.

The closer he gets to his balls, the more his cock leaks until it looks like he dumped on a bottle of lube on his crotch. He thinks of you grinding against the floor, his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth, until the vibrating head is nestled in the space between his cock and his balls. In his mind, you match his desperation by grinding against his boot, shining it with your slick.

Eddie teeters on the edge of release, panting like he’s run a marathon, his cock now an angry shade of purple. He's not gonna last for long. A fucking toy has reduced him to a virgin whose just watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High for the first time.

Shit. Now he's thinking about tits.

Your tits. He's never seen them, but he does remember all those hot, summer days spent cooling off at Lover's Lake. He can work with that. If there is anything DnD and tonight have proven, it's that he’s got a damn good imagination.

His broken whimpers match the way his thoughts slowly break off into disconnected clips as he hurtles himself closer to release. Your boobs cushioning his face. Him sucking bruises into your skin. Him notching himself at your entrance. You squirming so much he has to hold your hips down.

“Come on, Eddie. Need it, need you. I’ve been good.”

He’s drooling at the thought of your pussy, pulsing and warm and so fucking inviting as he sinks into your heat. You’re moaning too, whining his name as if you crave him as much as he craves you.

“Ohmygod, I feel you. Feel so good.”

“There you go, taking me so good. Wanted this for so long you don’t even know.”

The loud buzzing eggs him on, making his hips buck with little grace. He's not doing it for the extra stimulation, but as a visceral response to the heightened passion of the moment. It's everything working in tandem – the wand, his fantasies, and the piece of him that wishes this could become a reality. He can’t sit still, not when pleasure is this good.

The waves of dizzying pleasure carry him closer to oblivion, just a bit more and he'll be there.

Eddie's next move is consequential. Letting go of his cock, he moves to cups his heavy balls, tugging them up just enough to push the wand head into the space below his balls. The noise he makes is wild, animalistic in the way his vocal cords constrict, as the fierce vibrations spread all the way to his asshole. The feeling sinks into his flesh, radiating through his taint to shale his prostate.

He recalls every instance when you called his name, the soundtrack to his fantasy. He feels the phantom pressure of your heels digging into his lower back. You keep him locked in place, as if he would have left you.

"Eddie, please! Come inside me. W–want your cum."

He does his best to imagine what it would be like to pump you full, to feel you pulse around him, to smell his cologne mix with your sweat, to see his release dripping out of you. He needs it, needs you. The hand holding the wand went numb ages ago, but he still manages to extend a finger to turn up the intensity.

From there, it's a combustion of stars. Groaning, body shaking with little remorse, Eddie spills his seed in thick ropes. He's levitating off the bed, he has to be with how intense this orgasm is. All he can do to soothe himself is call your name until he is reduced to the cum covering his abdomen.

He can't remember when or how he turned off the wand, but it’s now on the floor. Quietude falls over your tiny apartment, and somehow it's more deafening than the motorized buzzing. It hits him like a heavy gust of wind, blowing in a profound sense of shame for what he just did.

Fuck. Did he…? Did that actually happen?

“Oh God,” He groans. Yeah, he really did that. His embarrassment is hot like fire and as rough as brimstone. He knows he needs to clean up and hide the evidence of his perversion, but he lays paralyzed at the inevitable consequences of his actions. Eddie is a mess, both physically and mentally.

Messy Munson, that's his new name.

Or maybe it's not that bad, he thinks. Maybe it just seems like that. He dares himself to look down at his spent cock and–

Jesus H. Christ, he didn't know one person could produce that much cum.

His abdomen is flooded, there is cum pooled in his belly button, and the thatch of pubic hair is glued together from his seed. And of course, it couldn't just stay in it's place, it's had to drip down to soil your sheets.

Throwing his head back into your pillow, he shuts his eyes as if the sight pains him. He did this and he's got to fix it. There is absolutely no way that you can find out about this. As he stands on shaky, Bambi legs, he starts a mental checklist:

Take another shower

Wash your sheets

Resist the urge to do it again

Clean your wand and place it back exactly as it was

Forget about your Hitachi (like, actually forget this time)

Figure out how to act like nothing ever happened

Do NOT do it again

divider by @/strangergraphics

[hgfictionwriter]

Long Distance Call

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?

Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!

A/N: Based on this request.

“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”

Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.

Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.

“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.

It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.

She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.

Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.

But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.

“What was that all about?”

Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.

“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.

“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”

“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.

“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”

“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”

“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.

“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.

“I know.”

Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.

She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.

“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”

She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.

“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”

Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.

She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.

“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.

She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.

“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.

She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.

She took a few deep breaths before she answered.

“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.

“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”

“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”

“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.

“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.

“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”

“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”

Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.

“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”

“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.

“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”

“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.

“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”

“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”

“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.

Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.

She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.

“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”

“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.

“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.

Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.

“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”

You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”

Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”

“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”

“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.

People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”

You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.

“So make me,” you challenged her.

Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.

“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.

“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.

“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”

“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”

“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.

A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.

You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.

“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.

“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”

You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”

“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.

“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”

Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”

[prismuffin]

Heya i wanted to do an ask about how batman, superman, green lantern, flash would react to a magic user reader who prefers using a gun. Like his spell book is just floating beside him in battle open but he just uses his gun instead.

Also i hope u have great day :3

Let’s do a classic DC ask as a small comeback! Anyways I think that-

Batman would have expected you to show him up a bit, like Constantine has before. But when in battle the last thing he expected you to do was pull out a fucking gun??? You had your spell book floating beside you as you came to his aid, it let out an ethereal glow that exuded power, surely you were going to release some pretty potent magic right? Welp forget all that, you just straight up shot the guy you were fighting. He found it quite humorous and after the fight he immediately asked what the gun was all about. You said you had to catch the guy off guard, saying that you found it more straightforward than using magic all the time, especially since that can be taxing at times, and he wasn’t worth the small fatigue that would’ve plagued you afterward. Every time he sees you just pull out a gun rather than using magic he can’t help but find it a bit amusing.

Superman would be rather shocked to see you suddenly pull out a gun. I mean, he gets it if you were too tired or if it was a last resort but your spell book was floating right beside you, still open and ready to be channeled. He wondered why you would handicap yourself, surely your spells are much stronger than any old lead bullet. After the fight he’d question you on it, and when you said it was just more practical and less mentally taxing he’d still suggest that you should use your strong spells since that’s what makes you such a good fighter. You decided to prove him wrong by only using your gun for the rest of that mission, also just to tease him a bit.

Hal would be genuinely confused. He’d also be somewhat concerned, had you overworked yourself and now this was your last resort? He’d let out a chuckle as he asked what the hell you were doing mid-fight. You just said that these goons were starting to piss you off and he was suddenly a little more scared of you. You were already pretty powerful with your spells but to know that when you get angry or annoyed this is what you resort to, had him a little fearful. At least he knows not to get on your bad side.

Barry would straight up bust out laughing as soon as he saw you say fuck it and just start shooting. He’d stop mid-fight just to laugh, speaking between his laughter and only speeding to get away from some of the guys that were trying to fight or shoot him as he questioned out loud why you just did that. You couldn’t help but smirk before saying that these guys were so bad it wasn’t even worth the effort of using any of your spells. He agreed with you, saying that he was barely even speeding to get away from these dudes. You both just kept bashing on their fighting styles and aim as you took them out without even trying for the most part. You two left that mission laughing at the lack of effort it took, he’ll never get over you just defaulting back to using a gun in a fight it’s the funniest thing to him.

———

I miss writing :)

Directory

[loveinhawkins]

Steve watches as Eddie drops the shield clumsily, just lets it fall into the grass. His hand—it’s not shaking, exactly, but there’s a delay to everything, to the way his fingers curl, like even the smallest movement takes so much effort.

Steve knows the feeling: when the whole world feels like wading through molasses.

Eddie comes to sit next to him, thunks the back of his head against the RV and winces. “Ow.”

Steve smiles. “We’ve got time, y’know.”

Eddie gives him a blank look. The shadows under his eyes are practically sunken in. “Time?”

Steve gestures out to the distance, where the kids are still playing, where Nancy and Robin are re-counting the supplies he’d noted down earlier. “Reckon you’ve got an hour or so, if you wanna get your head down.”

Eddie snorts. “Ah, sleep,” he says, with a wry smile. “What’s that?”

“Come on, man,” Steve says. “Gotta take any opportunity you can. Don’t want you collapsing before we flambé Vecna.”

Eddie mouths Vecna to himself a couple of times, blows out a breath. “God, my life… my life is fucking crazy.”

Steve chuckles slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“You’re used to all of this shit, though. Lemme guess, you can sleep just like that?”

“Hmm, not always,” Steve says, which… well, Eddie doesn’t know enough, he reasons, to realise just what an understatement that is.

Eddie sighs again. He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the RV—doesn’t look comfortable at all.

Steve moves closer, gently nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Hey.”

Eddie’s eyes open with prolonged, heavy blinks. “Hmm?”

Steve pats his shoulder in invitation. Eddie lets out an exhausted laugh. “Oh, my life just got even crazier.”

“What? It’s a perfectly good shoulder, dude, I dunno what to tell you.” Steve grins when Eddie keeps laughing. “It’s not bony or anything.”

“That so?” Eddie says, rubs at his eyes with a lingering smile. “You got good reviews?”

“Glowing. Five stars.”

Steve thinks about all the times he’s been a pillow for Robin or Dustin—Max, too, on the seldom few times he’s wheedled until she just took a damn nap, even if it was only for ten minutes.

He taps his shoulder again, goes quiet, more serious. “You’re dog-tired, Eddie. Come on, just ten minutes. Then you can trash my stupid shoulder all you want.”

Eddie just looks at him, considering. Then he huffs, glances upwards as if to say Fine, you win. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.”

And with some hesitancy, he tips his head down to the side and settles on Steve’s shoulder.

He’s tense still; Steve can feel it.

“Y’know, one of the best naps I ever had was ‘cause of you,” Steve says conversationally.

Eddie makes a disbelieving noise.

“It’s true. Uh, Winter ‘84, the period just after lunch, I think? Damn, can’t even remember what class it… Anyway, you were giving the teacher shit ‘cause of some test result, you just kept going, it was incredible. No work got done; I just put my head on my desk and slept, and no-one even noticed.”

Eddie chuckles, slumps a little more. “That’s…” And he yawns. “That’s depressing, man. You saying me going on and on was relaxing?”

“Yeah, like one of those meditation tapes. Except, uh, more aggressive.”

Steve feels more than sees Eddie smile. “You’re so dumb.” He hums tiredly, his head resting heavier and heavier on Steve’s shoulder. Voice small, he says, “Keep talking?”

So Steve does.

He keeps up a constant, one-sided conversation, speaking softly. Talks about what they’ll all do after this—mostly nothing, because everyone deserves a goddamn extended Spring Break, he’s decided.

And Eddie sleeps. He doesn’t twitch like Robin, and his head doesn’t nod forward like Dustin—like he’s reached such a level of fatigue that he can only be still. His breathing is deep and heavy in a way that Steve knows only comes from a rare, utterly dreamless sleep.

Steve just sits there for way more than an hour, doesn’t care when his back begins to protest at how unmoving he is. It’s only as the sun begins to set, as the group just begins to head back to the RV, when he reluctantly nudges Eddie.

“Hey. Hey, Eddie. Sorry. Time to get up.”

Eddie mumbles something, barely lifts his head before returning it to Steve’s shoulder. “Hmm… five more minutes?”

Steve sighs through a little laugh. Feels suddenly emotional for reasons he can’t fully explain. God, I wanna give you forever.

“Sure, yeah. Five minutes.”

But Eddie rouses after just a minute or two. Sits up and stretches. His eyes look a little brighter, his face no longer quite as grey.

“You were right, man,” he says lightly, gives Steve’s shoulder an endearing little pat. “It’s a nice shoulder. Gotta take good care of that.”

And his hand lingers there, holds on like he did when they were huddled round the Lite Brite. Like he’s saying Take care of yourself, instead.

Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand as he shrugs. “You get first dibs on it, when this is over,” he says.

And he means Come back.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[loveharlow]

COMPANY POLICY

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.7k] Caught red handed stealing from Cameron Development, Rafe Cameron's assistant finds herself in a sticky situation...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, power play, blackmail, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected rough sex, allusions to pregnancy, cheating (?)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU HELD YOUR ARMS CLOSE TO YOU AS YOU WALKED THE PATH UP TO THE COMPANY BUILDING — Cameron Development. It was midnight on the dot and the night air was chilly. Normally, you’d be in bed by this time, tired and exhausted after running errands for Rafe Cameron all day long with little to sometimes no break. Being his assistant wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream job, but it kept your lights on.

For some reason, the man had called you into the office, saying there was an issue that was urgent and had to be handled immediately. He had an edge to his voice, one that should've been your first warning to not walk into that building.

As you skipped up the steps to the building, still hugging yourself, you pushed the door open and followed the only light that was on down the hall. His office door was cracked and you could hear him mumbling to himself. Reaching the semi-open door, you pushed it open, the wood creaking as you did so.

“Mr. Cameron?” You called quietly, spotting his tall frame hovering over his desk — palms planted firmly on the wood and hair ruffled as his eyes ran wild over the small pile of papers on the desk. Your voice broke him out of his muttering daze as his eyes slowly rose to meet yours. His movements were slow and calm, his wild eyes meeting yours.

His movements were slow and calm, until they weren’t. Within seconds, he’d crumpled up the papers in his hands and rounded his deck to tower in front of you and grab your upper arm, bringing you impossibly closer. You could see him a lot more clearly now — he was visibly strung out and angry. 

You gasped at the rough contact, immediately trying to tug your arm away which only prompted the irate man to tug you closer. 

“What’re you-”

“How much?” He huffed out, infuriated. His jaw was clenched tightly.

You were sure you looked lost and confused, more scared than anything. Rafe had a knack for treating his employees like shit and you were no exception to his rage now, it seemed. But you’d never been at the receiving end of his abuse until this moment. It was frightening, to put it mildly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“How much fucking money did you steal from me?” He gritted through his teeth. You stuttered to find the right words and he took that as a sign to continue berating you. He released his grip on you to uncrumple to documents he was holding, using one hand to push you against the wall behind you as the other practically shoved the printed matter in your face. “Five-hundred and twenty-six thousand...” He started, voice rising with each word. “Five-hundred and twenty-six THOUSAND dollars. That’s how much money has been withdrawn from my company and deposited into shell companies — companies that do not fucking exist!”

You looked away from him this time. You honestly didn’t think he’d find out. Or at least find out that it was you. Five-hundred thousand was pocket change compared to what he was bringing in yearly and Rafe was careless, so you didn't think he'd notice and if he did, you assumed you'd be able to lie on the spot. Clearly, you'd misjudged both him and yourself.

He’d put you in charge of the books when it became too much paperwork for him one day and you just happened to realize that your paycheck could’ve been much higher than what it was but you knew he’d never give you a raise. You’d worked with him for almost 2 years and had never even seen the chance of a promotion. Who was Rafe Cameron to acknowledge his employees or their efforts?

It wasn't like you'd taken it all at once. It was over the last couple months that you'd misplaced the funds into shell companies and collected it at later dates for your own personal gain.

“Suddenly she’s quiet.” He taunted, throwing the papers to the floor. “Look at me,” He demanded, but you refused. He took that as a sign to grab, more like yank, your chin in his direction. “Where’s my money?”

“It’s gone, most of its gone…” You muttered with tearful eyes, speech slurred due to how he had your cheeks pressed together. You weren't lying. You'd spoiled yourself with the money. Shopping, grocery runs, furniture...

“I trusted you. You think I’d let any of those lousy, dumbasses touch my assets? No. But clearly…clearly I made a lapse in judgment with you.” He reprimanded. “You’re a damn thief.” He spat as he let go of your face, so harshly it prompted some of your hair to obstruct your field of vision.

Your heart was racing like crazy. Your hands had been clawing at the wall he had you pinned to, eyes following his pacing frame. “I can pay it back. I’ll pay it all back-”

“Oh, I know you will.”  He scoffed darkly. “But clearly, your word can’t be taken for it so, I’m going to need… collateral.” Rafe sounded much less angry now. But his tone was still clouded with an air of darkness that made the hairs of the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly, he was in front of you again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear — a much softer touch compared to the previous ones.

“Take your shirt off.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at his demand.

Surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Mr. Cameron-” You tried.

“Sir.” He corrected.

“...Sir,” You repeated, taking the hint. “I have a husband. Not to mention, you’re my boss. I’m sure there’s another way-”

“There might be...” He cut you off, the knuckle of his index finger trailing down the length of your neck as he licked his lips before speaking again. “Unfortunately for you, I want to do it my way.” He rasped. “So, take your shirt off.”

This was wrong. On so many levels was this wrong. He was your boss — your sick, deranged boss. You may be a thief but this was ludicrous. Was the terror in your eyes not enough assurance for him?

You gulped as you looked into his eyes, letting a few beats pass before moving your shaking hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head and hesitating to let it drop to the hardwood floors of his office. 

Rafe eyed the valley of your breasts that was revealed by your bra, a small smirk forming on his features at the sight. When one of his hands came up to cup one of them through the material, you couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the touch — it was foreign and it felt so… dirty. You wanted to just say fuck it and dash out of his office — shirtless and all. But you knew that would only cause more trouble — he’d ruin your credibility and career, destroy your marriage, and God knows what else.

So when the man used the hand that had been trailing your neck to untie your sweatpants, you stood as still as a statue and let him. The loose apparel falling easily to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you half naked in front of your superior.

“I never took you for the criminal type, y’know…” He whispered into your ear. “I always thought you were so obedient. The things I thought about doing to you whenever you nod when I give you an order, watching you rush around the office in your skirts just to get whatever I need done finished…I never thought watching you do whatever I say would be so fun.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but feel trapped at this moment.

Just how long had Rafe been pining over you? You suddenly wondered if this was really collateral or just a way of getting something he’d always wanted.

Was it both?

The thought ran around in your mind as he roamed the length of your body — calloused hands outlining the curve of your ass, palm trailing over your clothed core. You didn’t even fully register when his thick fingers pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, one digit gathering the wetness that had gathered before being quickly pushed inside. You whimpered lowly at the intrusion, instinctively closing your legs but Rafe wouldn’t allow it, using his knee to hold your legs apart.

His lone finger poked and prodded at your g-spot, forcing light moans out of you that you tried your best to keep low. You hated the way your body responded to his touch — the faint squelching sound you could hear as he pumped his finger in and out of you. A lone tear rolled down your cheek, small whimpers escaping your lips before he harshly pulled his finger out of you and took a few steps back, allowing you to close your legs.

But the racing and thumping of your heart within your rib-cage didn’t stop there, tearful eyes watching as Rafe’s hands moved to his belt. The metal clanking against itself as he undid the object and abandoned it to the floor. 

In one swift motion, his entire demeanor changed as he grabbed the hair on your head that he could reach, practically ripping you off of the wall that you were clinging to. You yelped as the man did so, using your tresses as a makeshift leash, pulling your body towards his desk as you struggled not to trip over your pants that were still wound around your ankles. Using his deadly grip, he shoved your face into the wooden surface, swiping papers and office supplies out of his way.

You hissed the contact, a small ache blooming on your cheek as your own hands were planted on the wood as well in awkward position due to how he had you pinned down.

The hand in your hair never left your body as it trailed down to pin you against the slab by the back of your neck instead. Your body jerked as he used his free hand to force your panties down your legs, leaving the material wound around the middle of your thighs.

You don’t even know when he found the time to pull down his own pants during his manhandling, only starting to internally panic, realizing the weight of what was happening when you felt the warmth of his tip rub against your sex. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, causing yourself more pain the more you moved.

You pleaded with him through labored sobs as your fingers clawed at his work space, leaving faint white marks in your wake. You didn’t even know what you were saying — a string of useless pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your fighting only came to an abrupt stop when you felt his dick push past your entrance, biting down on your lip as a small pinching feeling radiated from in between your legs at the unwelcome intrusion. You felt every ridge and vein as he took his time settling within you. The man behind you let out a gruff groan while the hand he’d used to guide himself inside of you moved to capture your waist, pulling you further onto him.

When he pulled his hips back only to slam back into you, you couldn’t contain the watery scream you let out. It felt like he’d punched you in the throat, fucking into you as if you weren’t a living thing. You could feel each and every time the tip of his cock would hit your cervix, the desk beneath you bruising your abdomen with each forward thrust that slammed you against the wooden fixture.

"Please! I can't-"

"Shut up." He immediately cut off your protests, voice curt and nasty. "I don't wanna hear you speak."

Nothing about his movements were pleasurable. His grip on your waist had grown tighter, so tight that his short nails were digging into your skin, feeling like miniature knives against your side. The hand on your neck followed, squeezing the nape of it until you were gasping for air between each cry and shriek.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the feeling of his pelvis meeting the curvature of your ass with each thrust made your chest feel tight. You hated the way you could feel yourself clenching around him, a familiar sensation building in your lower half. 

Before you could even attempt to stop yourself, your hands were curling into tight fists as you came around him with a pitiful cry. But Rafe wasn’t done just yet, and you laid under him as he continued pounding into you at a borderline animalistic pace. The desk screeching against the floorboards after a particularly, brutal jolt. You were quickly becoming sensitive, the friction causing your clit to ache as a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body.

It was only a few moments before he rammed into you for the final time, his hips stilling as they pressed against your backside, the feeling of him spilling into you almost making you sick. He didn’t bother being quiet as he held you flush against him, making sure to empty himself completely with a few soft pumps into you afterwards, pulling out with not an ounce of care, eliciting a wince from you as he did so.

He roughly released both holds he’d had on you, not saying a word.

You could hear the rustling of fabric and his heavy breaths behind you as you gathered yourself mentally. You didn’t move, not an inch until you heard his voice again.

“Get up.” You sniffed. Not wanting to irritate the man any further, you used your arms to push yourself up to stand straight on shaky legs. You didn’t turn around as you carefully bent over and pulled your pants up, trying you hardest to ignore what you felt running down the inside of your thighs or the way the fabric of your underwear felt against your swollen clit.

All hopes of not having to look at the man who’d violated you were shattered as he rounded his desk to sit in front of you, planting himself in the chair as he opened the laptop that he was lucky hadn’t been thrown from the desk in the harsh turn of events.

You stood in front of him with your head down. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears from your face, fix your hair, or check for bruises that you were sure you had and would have to find some way to cover up. You just watched liked a punished child as he opened the device in front of him, typing and hyper focused on the screen. You wondered how he could be so unphased.

He was like that for a few passing moments until he’d seemingly gotten what he needed, pulling the USB drive from the side of the machine that you'd just noticed, leaning back in his chair as he fiddled with the small stick. His face was flushed red and his hair was all over the place.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, out of breath but still managing to sound smug. You had an idea. But you hoped you were wrong. So, begrudgingly, you shook your head side to side. “It's our movie. I know it’s not the best angle because, well...” He motioned towards a corner of his office, prompting you to shift your sights in his line of sight, spotting a camera mounted in the corner, so small it was just barely visible but you knew from the placement it probably had a view of the entire space. Your heart dropped, slowly turning back to your boss to find him eyeing you with such a predatory gaze that it made you shudder.

“Don’t look so scared. No one else will see it, so long as you get my shit back.” He spat. “But I gotta admit,” He started, getting up from behind his desk and coming to stand next to you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Fucking you was much better than I ever imagined.”

His words had you choking back on your own saliva, swallowing harshly and refusing to look at him as you stared straight ahead with a disgusted snarl on your face. One of his hands swiped lightly across your torso as he left your personal space, opting to sit half-way perched on his desk. Fiddling and examining the memory stick like a prized possession before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and an unsettling grin on his features before speaking.

“You can see yourself out.”

That was all you needed to hear before your feet were rushing you away from him, barely stopping to snatch your shirt up off of the floor before making a bee-line out of his office. You struggled to put your shirt on as you practically sprinted through the doors of the building so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if you had it on backwards, hot skin immediately bitten by the night air.

Your breathing never calmed as you rushed to your car, struggling to unlock the door, throwing yourself into the vehicle when you finally managed to. You sat there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the street and breathing like a mad woman before you lost all control — punching and slamming on your steering wheel, a long string of curses leaving your lips before you were bursting into tears, sleeve-covered hands coming up to cup your face as you cried into them. 

You hated yourself and you hated Rafe. You had nowhere to go from here. Rafe's words made it clear that you wouldn't be quitting any time soon and what the hell were you going to do about your husband? Rafe had a full length tape of you, bent over his desk as he did what he pleased and no matter what you knew happened in that office, Rafe had Kildare in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take a genius to know that Rafe Cameron would bend that video to his very will. This whole thing made you look bad, a thief and a cheater.

Your hysterics didn’t last long when you realized that even though you were in your car, that man was still just feet away. You’d still have to see him the very next day and every day after that, but right now you just wanted to go home and you didn’t even know if you really wanted to do that — to climb into bed with your husband who had no idea what had just happened, knowing not only that your future was tainted but technically, so was his. 

You didn’t waste any time in starting your car, nearly whipping into the curb at the speed at which you pulled off. Watching streetlights and stores pass by.

It wasn’t until you passed the pharmacy, bright neon red sign lit up in the dark, that you felt your stomach drop.

You’d been off birth control for months now, wanting to try for a baby with your husband.

And in the middle of the night, you found yourself praying that a loss of dignity and aching legs were the only things Rafe Cameron just sent you home with.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[mya-jaa5]

My Affection

You were walking into your home per usual, it was a bit late since you hung out with your friends after school, while walking in your mother should’ve had dinner almost ready, your father sitting on the couch watching tv in the living room. A normal day…

Your ex boyfriend Scaramouche, he was the perfect boyfriend at first, always giving you your needs, spending time with you, calling you, you know the stuff you’d want in a relationship, you knew he was loyal…. But he was too possessive, he’s always adjusting his schedule to meet yours, it’s not a problem but sometimes you wonder and ask, he’d always get offended asking why can’t he be around you, he is your boyfriend after all… Then he started getting irritated whenever you wanted to hang out with your friends during lunch or after school. He started to get mad when you interacted with other people, it got to the point he’d get mad at you for talking to your family! Snatching your phone whenever your on a call with someone just to see who your talking too, he was getting disrespectful now…. Always telling you that you only need him, and you shouldn’t spend your time on other people but him, it’s like he expected you to actually keep up with this… He was pushing the relationship fast, too fast to your liking. So you ended it with him, it overwhelmed you.

Scaramouche didn’t take this lightly obviously, first he tried winning you over just with him, he goes up to you talking to you as if you are still together?? He even tried giving you a forehead kiss, but you kept denying him, you know better. gotta stand on business 🙎🏽‍♀️

This makes him mad, why are you being so stubborn? it’s not like he cheated on you, why are you acting like this? You don’t even want his kisses? You even started ignoring him.. how dare you, who do you think you are?

Raging thoughts cloud Scaramouche each time he makes an effort to get you back, only to get nothing. 

He needed to show you he wants you back, he starts following you to convince you to get back together with him, he did it multiple times at school, and he started doing it outside of school! Even when your out with your parents when your alone for a moment he just suddenly comes up to you… it’s like he’s everywhere….

A few days ago you were talking to your friends, Scara walked over and pulled you from your friends conversation, took you to a far away tree behind the school and he started threatening you, telling you if you didn’t get back together with him he’d kill your family, and kidnap you, that he’s tired of playing these “games” with you. All while getting in your face to prove his point.

This was crazy, you pushed him off of you and told him off, telling him you’ll never get back with him and to fuck off.

You walked off angry.

But truthfully, he was furious, outraged even. 

This scared you but you never took him serious , what causes someone to say this…?

You close your front door, went you take off your shoes. When you walk in you instead hear silence, you set you bag down near the hallway and head to the kitchen, you don’t see your mom? Maybe she’s at the store..? Weird… Nothing made, nothing was touched, you walk toward the living room seeing a red splash on the side wall, confused you get to the living room you see your parent dead, slaughtered, massacred, murdered.

You stare wide eye silent for about 30 seconds, then screaming and dropping to the floor crying, you take out your phone to call 911, while trying to check if your parents are okay, getting blood all over your hands and shirt… But you start to feel faint, seeing a purple smoke appear in the room, soon your knocked unconscious….

____

You start to wake up…. “Where am i…?” you think to yourself, you hear water droplets, and slight moving, your in water? warm water… it’s quiet relaxing, slowly you open your eyes… The bathroom is mesmerizing, it’s a blue and white marble wall paper and it has dim lights, much to your liking… Which is weird…

“oh… your finally up..?”

you get startled, scara was bathing with you?

“You smell so nice… i missed you y/n…”

He kissed your neck tenderly while his hands crept up to your boobs massaging both of them, he chuckled feeling your arch a bit.

“Calm down im just washing you…”

“Shut up… don’t touch me!” 

You try to move away but your still weak? You can barely lift up your arm, you can only really stay on scara…

He stops kissing your neck and instead reaches one of his hands for a scrub, taking some coconut scented body wash and gently washing your skin. You frown at this, why is he taking care of you, if only he knew how much he irritated you… Him still slightly caressing you’re other boob…

“This is our first time…. Taking a bath together, i’ve always looked forward to doing this with you.”

Scaramouche confessed, which angered you.

you decide to stay silent, he doesn’t deserve your words or attention.

“That day i threatened you, you left your phone on the bench. You know i think it’s cute you still have my birthday as your password..”

Your surprised…. That means he.. That’s why he threatened you that day…?

Scara chuckles feeling you tense. 

“What i don’t think is cute is that you were texting another guy, really y/n? Did you really think you were gonna to move on? He’ll never be able to handle you.. Why would you ever leave me…”

He continued to wash you though a little rougher and fast… He was clearly getting angry… Your definitely not going to worsted the situation by barking back… Choosing to stay silent you wait for what he’ll say next…

“You weren’t understanding, i’ve did everything for you, i’ve only ever looked out for you, and this is how i get treated? You were supposed to come back with me the first time i asked you, but you so stubborn and let it escalate to this..”

He lets go of the scrub and it floats on top of the water, he grips your waist and turns you around, when you look at him he looks mad, your nervous. 

He brings his hand to your cheek caressing it

“Your staying here for now on, you can’t go out anymore, you have to prove your obedience if you want to live a normal life, to finish school, you know.”

what? you can’t sit here and not say anything.

“G-Get away! You killed my parents! And you think i would-“

“Get over it. Your parents are dead they lived a pathetic life” Scara coldly said.

You sharply inhale, how dare he? He doesn’t understand how much you loved them. Soon you feel your eyes tear up.

Scara rolls his eyes “You’ll get over it”

He looks at you and slightly smirks.

“You know i’ve never seen you cry before… Your eyelashes are pretty long, you cry a lot?”

Its like he’s taunting you. 

“Hey hey it’s a joke don’t cry more… Listen if your worried it not gonna hurt you..”

he got closer to you, sorta sitting in your lap, looking down on you.

“Its been a while since we did anything intimate…”

Really? He’s bringing up being intimate? He clearly doesn’t take you serious. 

“no i’m mourning, don’t rush me”

you heard him make a “tch” sound, instead he placed his head on your shoulder. and wrapped his arms around your waist 

“fine i wont…”

Its silent… 

“i missed you… i missed this”

You wanna make a big sigh, maybe it’ll make him drown you.

Trying to think back how normal your life was before, wondering if you took it for granted, and got this for being selfish or wanting more… Missing your dear parents… Wondering if all those times you spent being mean to them was worth it. You stare at the water lost in thought just wondering what will happen now your in this situation. knowing you can’t escape it. Or Scara…

Moments pass and your pulled out your thoughts as he suddenly gets up, he gets out the tub and puts a towel around his waist.

Its not like he’s not hot, but he’s a bad person, and this is a pretty fucked up situation, anyways you didn’t look at him as he got out, wanting to give him privacy despite him going through your phone while you two weren’t together…

“Be ready for dinner at 12:30, your outfit is picked out already, we’re eating your favorite” 

he saids while washing his face in the sink.

You nod and he takes your answer and leaves the bathroom… You don’t feel as weak anymore, so you get out and dry yourself, what time is it? And why is dinner so late? Whatever, you wonder what type of clothes he got you…

To your surprise it’s fresh new clothes he bought you. Its just a simple matching shirt and shorts, he also got you basic white garments, with a tiny pink ribbon bot in the middle of both the clothing, it’s cute. just to your liking… Which is weird, he knows a lot about you more than yourself… Anyways you brush your teeth wash your face, your ready… you got this for sure, what could go bad ?

___

ermmm end 😝 ? or maybe part 2 👻

i’m good at writing and coming up w good story’s but when it’s like i actually gotta wrote a part2 or sum it just be like what am i gon come up w next, this story is kidna random but lmk if y’all like it 💃🏽 no specific age i’m just going by mine. proofread but not at the same time

also idk what title i should make this 😭?

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A follow up to Sour Times. [ SYNOPSIS ] A simple dinner date goes to shit. [ WORD COUNT ] 2k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, established "relationship", y/n is a civilian, canon typical violence is discussed, alcohol, binge drinking, dubcon, oral sex, jerking off, squirting.

The persistent loneliness you felt that Friday night was a cruel humiliation. The air was still and biting, a constant needly presence on your skin. You had been waiting for fifteen minutes, feet firmly planted on the sidewalk, but it felt like years. Every so often you glanced inside the restaurant, cursing the adorable couples feasting by the window. That was where you belonged. You should have been sitting amongst them, having dinner with Kishibe.

And yet you were shivering outside, feeling like the only person in the world. You looked up at the night sky, stars bleached away by city lights, and noticed it was a new moon.

“That’s so fucked up,” you muttered.

Its absence felt personal.

You flirted with the idea of going home, cozying up on the couch and eating a garbage frozen meal you kept for bouts of laziness and self-loathing. But you couldn’t admit defeat yet. There was always the chance he was running late. Giving him a little grace wouldn’t kill you.

Or maybe it would. The cold penetrated your bones and death felt imminent. You thought of places he could be, namely bars he could be wilting away in. You knew a few off the top of your head, dingy places that smelled like wet leaves and cigarettes. The closest one was only a few blocks away, a walk you could manage.

You tried to keep your cool as you made your way down the street. If he was there you wanted to seem unbothered by his behavior. You hated yourself for clinging to someone who could barely do the bare minimum. Maybe going home and eating a sad meal was what you deserved.

The door to the bar was open. You peered inside, eyes darting around as you searched for Kishibe. It took you no time to find him. He was at the bar with his head down, face buried in his arm. You sat beside him and cleared your throat. He wasn’t roused. You cleared your throat a little louder, but it was no use.

“Hey asshole,” you said, scratching the back of his head.

“Why are you here?” he grumbled.

You ignored his prickly question.

“Did you forget we have a date tonight?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you show up?”

He sighed and lifted his head. He looked exhausted and drunk. Alcohol wafted from his pores. He must have been at the bar for a while.

“Y’know… how sometimes you’ll see something so horrible that it makes you feel like you’ll just taint everything with your presence?”

“I’m not familiar with that feeling, no. Did something fucked up happen?”

He let out a throaty laugh. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you replied flatly. “We can talk about it—”

He cut you off. “Nah. I’d rather spare you for once.”

“I can handle it.”

“You cried when I told you about that possessed girl swallowing razor blades.”

He was right. You did cry, but he also went into way too much detail about how the blood poured from her throat.

You scoffed. “Whatever. You’re still an asshole.” He snickered. “I’m serious. I froze my ass off waiting for you.”

“You could’ve gone inside,” he said before yawning.

“That would have been embarrassing. I’d look like a loser.”

“Good point.” He waved the bartender down and straightened his posture. “Two shots of whisky. Make one a double.”

The bartender stared Kishibe down. “The double better be for your friend. Don’t think I didn’t see you sleeping.”

“Can’t a guy be tired in public?”

The bartender rolled his eyes and went to the other end of the bar after the transaction making an effort to converse with the other patrons. You longed for the ability to walk away, but you were too attached. No one else in the world beckoned such devotion. You snatched the double shot and knocked it back, trying to not think about your overwhelming patheticness.

“I needed time to myself and by the time I realized that it was too late to tell you.”

The whisky burned as it made its way down your throat. You coughed into your elbow. You felt like you were going to hack up a lung. His irritating response did little to soothe your misery.

“What a baby,” he teased.

“I kind of hate you right now.”

“Good. You’re better off without me.”

You wanted to bite him. He spent so much time pursuing you. You thought about the nights where he’d fall asleep in your arms, face buried in your neck, because he couldn’t bear to do it on his own. He’d come to your apartment, his body battered and bleeding, practically begging for affection. And now he was trying to brush you off.

“No shit.” Your skin felt warm and your heart felt marginally softer. Skipping dinner betrayed you. “Are you… Is this how it’s going to be now?”

“I’m not good at making plans.”

“But you’re a professional at dropping by my apartment unannounced in the middle of the night.”

He smiled. “I never planned those visits. They just happened.”

He sensed your discontent.

“Listen. I…” He hung his head. “I wanna be that guy for you, but I’m not good at it.”

“You could try a little harder.” You stared at the purple bruise that bloomed on his cheek bone. “I’m willing to be patient, if that helps.”

He let his hand rest on your thigh. “You’re too easy.”

Your body felt heavy; you had never been so keenly aware of gravity, or how much you adored him. 

“Only when it comes to you,” you said with a slight slur. “It’s ruining my life.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not,” you whined. “I just want you and you make it so hard for no reason.”

You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. Your grip on it was tenuous. You had a clear vision of yourself sliding off of it, hitting your head and bleeding out in Kishibe’s arms. In your drunken haze you couldn’t help but find it a little romantic.

“My therapist thinks I should stop seeing you.”

He laughed. “Are you gonna listen to them?”

“I have no sense of self-preservation so no,” you joked.

“Well they’re right.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I am willing to try. I can probably manage—”

“Can you give me something more than probably?”

He exhaled sharply. “Sure.”

You struggled to wholeheartedly convince yourself he’d keep his word. It did feel like you were strong-arming him into being someone he wasn’t. It was possible you were asking too much of him, but your grip remained firm. He turned his gaze towards you, eyes dark and exhausted. Despite his tone, he looked sincere. He was a walking mixed signal.

“I promise,” he added.

He wanted to believe it so you followed his lead. “Alright. How about a drink to celebrate?”

“I doubt he’ll serve me again.”

“Have faith,” you said with a grin.

Kishibe was right. The bartender looked at you like you were insane when you asked for two more shots so you asked for one double. The bartender didn’t catch onto your plan, or more than likely he didn’t care enough to say anything. You took a gulp from the glass and passed it to Kishibe.

“I’m gonna end up carrying you home. I can feel it.”

You leaned on him. “Let’s leave then. I have beer at home.”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, resting his head on top of yours. “Not after what I did.���

“Shut up. You’re coming over.”

He didn’t take any further convincing. You left the bar without paying your tab. Alcohol tended to bring out the worst in you, especially when you were engulfed in a haze of desire.

Kishibe was right. He did end up carrying you. You clung to his back like a baby koala. You were more than capable of walking on your own, but pretending to be helpless was a joy to indulge in. You were almost disappointed when you arrived at your apartment. You asked him to unlock your door, again leaning into your faux helplessness.

“The beer’s in the fridge,” you said, slumping down into your couch.

He went into the kitchen and returned with two cans of beer. He cracked one open and handed it to you.

“I shouldn’t let you stay,” you mumbled knowing full well he’d be sleeping in your bed.

He took a swig of his beer and smirked. “Then kick me out.”

You pouted. “I’m too lazy.”

He plopped down next to you, letting his arm snake around you. He pulled you close. Your head dropped onto his broad shoulder. He turned his head and inhaled, taking in your scent.

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“One compliment isn’t going to do it.” You playfully shoved him away, but let your hand linger on his arm, his muscles tense with anticipation. “I need more than that.”

He chuckled before taking a sizable swig of beer.

“More than that, huh?” He got up and got on his knees in front of you, his dark eyes locked on yours. “How about I take off your pants and make you come all over my tongue?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. “Oh wow. You’re sooo charming. You really got me going right now,” you snarked.

“C’mon. Be nice to me.”

You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers and gave it a gentle pull. “But it’s more fun to be mean.”

He unbuttoned your pants and unzipped them. You lifted your hips and let him pull them off of you. He nuzzled his face into your cunt, kissing it through your damp underwear. His eyes never left yours. There was a softness to his gaze, a tenderness you only saw when in the comfort of your home. Something in him changed when he was in the safety your apartment granted. So often he looked worn down, weathered by death and devastation, but once he walked through your door his stress drifted away.

“I really do love you.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured as he tugged at your underwear.

“Why? It’s true.”

“It’s too much pressure.”

“Ser—seriously? You’ve been begging for me to say that forever.”

He slipped two of his calloused fingers into your cunt. “That was one time. And it was after I saw three people get eviscerated at once.”

You rocked your hips against his fingers. “Still counts,” you mumbled.

The ability to speak was becoming difficult. Your brain was fogged by arousal, any form of rational thought was impossible. You wanted to shut it down completely.

“Whatever you say,” he said before pulling out his fingers, sucking your fluids off of them.

Your consciousness melted away as he sucked on your clit. You couldn’t even remember why you were frustrated with him. Dinner was a nonentity. There was no way someone capable of making you feel so good could hurt you.

He paused and you heard the faint sound of a zipper. He grumbled a brief “sorry” before he spat into his hand. He stroked himself, hand gliding up and down his shaft. You ran your fingers through his hair, and guided his head between your thighs.  He rolled his tongue against your swollen cunt as you writhed against the couch, ensnared in mindless ardor.

You arched your back and sighed, your body warming with every languid lick. The weight of your impending orgasm pinned you down, almost suffocating in its intensity. You held his head close as you panted and grunted, unleashing a deluge of fluids. He slipped his tongue between your folds and drank every drop of you in.

He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Pretty sure I got cum on the couch,” he said with a hint of pride.

You exhaled and stared up at the ceiling. “You fuck up our dinner plans… And now… you fuck up my furniture.”

He kissed your thigh. “Mhm.”

“You’re a dog,” you murmured.

“Yeah, but I’m your dog.”

“Then it shouldn’t be so hard to train you.”

You looked down at him. He had a point. At the end of the day, he was yours. Sure he sucked at committing to being an actual boyfriend, but he never fully strayed from you. He always crawled back. You couldn’t give up, not yet.

[agi-ppangx]

Duh, girl.... I just thought of a story that's really sad, if one of the straykids members whose relationship with his girlfriend feels distant. Because of what? Because he's lost interest and they rarely communicate because they're really busy, but... He doesn't want to let you go, with the words "I still love you". But you're really tired of this kind of relationship, and you're also stressed because you have a lot of work, same as him.

Do you think they'll continue with the vague relationship or finally break up even though there must be a little regret and sadness for sure?

💭tell me you love me

pairing: skz member x fem!reader

warning: swearing

an: anonnie why are you doing this to me💔 no but i actually love this idea so much and i may have made this drabble a bit too angsty, choosing an abrupt ending, but i hope you'll like it nonetheless<33 i also didn't mention any names so you can imagine any of the members :]

“i’m tired of this,” you whispered, tears making their way down your face. he only sighed in response, plopping heavily on the couch. you felt defeated, stressed and so extremely tired. you were standing in the very middle of your living room, staring at your so-called boyfriend. “i told you so many times i’m a busy man. i can’t help it. and you were aware of all of this when you decided to be my girlfriend!” he shouted, but you didn’t even flinch. you didn’t care anymore. “well, i thought that maybe you would try a little bit more to make things work. but here we are instead,” you spat, your voice trembling. “i’m trying! stop with this whole narrative, you know i still love you.”

you always thought your relationship was stable, that your fights were just meant to make it stronger. you wanted to believe in forever with him - since day one you promised to make effort and find time for one another. but it seemed as if he broke the promise at the first opportunity. and when you confronted him about it he always had the same response - “you know i still love you.”

“have you ever thought about how i feel? how i feel when you ignore me for your friends, how you literally avoid me when we’re both home and how you don’t even speak to me anymore? do you ever think about anything else but yourself?!” “shut up! it’s not my fault you are insecure about everything. i’m tired and when i get home from work all i think about is getting some sleep, not making sure you are taken care of. you’re a grown-up, you don’t need me around all the time.” he got up abruptly, screaming at you. you scoffed at his words. you couldn’t believe your ears - it had to be a nightmare, right? you took a step in his direction, then another one until you were standing right in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes. your vision was blurry but it didn’t stop you from trying to burn holes in his face. “do you even love me anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above the whisper. he kept eye contact with you for a while before speaking again through gritted teeth. “you know i do.” “then say it properly. tell me you love me and say you’re sorry.” he hesitated. he fucking hesitated and that was your last straw. you left him in the living room and went to your bedroom to pack essential things. “oh my god, of course i still love you. stop acting like a fucking child!” he went after you, screaming something after these words, but your mind couldn't comprehend his lies anymore. your face was covered in tears, eyes stung and it felt harder to breathe with every passing second. when you had all your stuff packed you faced him for the final time. “if you at least apologised, i would've stayed. i would stay here with you and try to work this out, because i do love you, truly. but you’re a fucking liar playing on my emotions and i’m not going to waste even a minute more on you,” you shouted into his face, almost choking on your tears, and simply left the apartment. and the worst part is that he didn’t even try to stop you, letting you go.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist💚

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

[seokmthw]

crying eyes | shen ricky

⇢ pairing: insecure!ricky x reader

⇢ warning: angst, fluff, mentions of poor self-esteem but nothing major

⇢ word count: 955

prompt(s): #3 "hey, it's okay to cry" + #5 "you don't have to be so brave with me" + #6 "how long did you think you could hide this?" + #19 "oh sweetheart, come here"

⇢ note: hello to the anon who requested this! i took a bit of a different spin on this one, so i hope it's everything you wanted! i wrote this so quickly and i genuinely don't know how, but i'm pretty proud of it! enjoy~

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

ricky stared at himself in the mirror as he danced, eyes trained on every single move and every single mistake he kept making despite his efforts. he had stayed well after practice, trying his best to perfect every part of his routine for his upcoming show, but just could seem to get the ending right no matter how many times he redid it.

nearing the end, he spun, but instead of landing how he was meant to, he lost his balance. he cursed at himself under his breath, angrily shutting off the music and standing there for a moment in disbelief. he wasn’t quite sure what to do from here, but his frustration was beginning to get the best of him as he worked.

he took a swig of his water before turning the music back on, but skipping to the ending to try and perfect one of his final spins. much to his dismay, he was off-balance again, this time tumbling down to the floor with a thud. he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, hair messy and sweat dripping down his temples, and all he could say was, “this is so fucking pathetic.”

he quickly rose to his feet, beginning to mutter things under his breath about how horrible he was and how he didn't think he deserved to have this dance solo. unbeknownst to him, you'd been watching him the past few minutes, feeling your heart break each time he beat himself up over making a mistake.

unable to handle seeing him like that anymore, you walked into the room, snagging the boy's attention with your presence almost immediately. he looked tired, the bags underneath of his eyes evident of his hard work over the past few days. you gave him a sad smile, softly telling him, “i thought i might find you here.”

“i was just finishing up,” ricky attempted to lie, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, but it was no use. he knew you'd caught him in the midst of him beginning to break down.

“i know better.”

upon hearing your words, something shifted within the boy’s head and tears began dripping down his cheeks, though he angry wiped them away as soon as they fell, “sorry, i didn’t think this would happen.”

“hey, it’s okay to cry,” you reassured him, stepping forward to get closer to him. ricky hung his head, finding a new interest in his shoe laces the more you approached his figure. more tears fell, but this time, he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“i just don’t understand what i’m doing wrong, y/n,” he managed to sputter out in between his cries, “no matter how hard i word, not matter how many times i try to fix it, i just can't. and i feel like all i’m going to do is let my team down,” by now, his shoulders were shaking with with sobs, and before you knew it, the barrier he had built up was slowly beginning to break down right in front of you.

you were finally in close enough proximity to grab onto one of his trembling hands, “oh sweetheart, come here.”

upon hearing your words, the blonde practically melted into your touch, allowing you to hold him as he let out a noise you'd never heard him make the entire time you'd been dating. he buried his face in your shoulder, balling his fists up into the fabric of your jacket, almost as if he believed you would disappear from his grasp if you didn’t.

you stood like that for a while, allowing your boyfriend to cry as much as he needed to. you sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. you almost felt bad you hadn't detected this sooner, but you knew ricky was capable of putting on a front that was believable, even to you.

“do you want to talk about it? would that help?” you offered, rubbing small circles on his back as a way of comfort, “you don’t have to be so brave with me, you know.”

he nodded, voice muffled against your skin as he spoke, “i know i don’t. it’s just a lot of things bottled up that picked now to explode. the pressure of getting my routine right, of not letting the other members down, and not burdening everyone around me.”

you pulled ricky away momentarily, surveying his face intently. you forced him to meet your gaze, questioning, “how long did you think you could hide this? it’s not healthy to keep all of those emotions to yourself.”

“i don’t- i don’t know, truthfully. i just didn't want anyone to worry about me.”

“you listen to me right now,” your voice was stern, but gentle, “you will never, ever burden me with talking about how you feel.”

“y/n-”

you stuck a hand up to shush him, “i’m not done, mister. you can always come to me, no matter what. and for what it's worth, you are extremely talented and you're severely underestimating that. you put everything into your practice, so just because you keep making mistakes doesn't mean you're bad. got it?”

you could see him fighting off a smile, “yeah, i think so.”

“good. i’m never going anywhere if i have any say in it,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, “no let's get you home so you can rest.”

he nodded, pulling you in for another hug, his chin rested on your shoulder and eyes fluttering closed upon feeling you squeeze him back. he sighed, “thank you for reassuring me. it means more than you know.”

“anything for you, my love.”

[lizlovell]

You're losing me

part 1

part 2

''Stop staring at her,it's creepy''

Pansy rolled her eyes at the blonde.

''It's not creepy,she is my girlfriend'', Draco replied, suprisingly for the first time since class started, ignoring everything else his friends were saying.

Pansy snorted,''Well apparently not''.

''Yeah man,why don't you just go talk to her instead of sending death-glares to everyone sitting next to her''

The words were simply ignored. Draco couldn't help it. He hated seeing her living like her life doesn't revolve around him anymore.

During the exam months before they take a break, all Draco thought about was to get away from you and all the tension built in your relationships. Being too busy under the exam pressure made him think your problems were nothing. He could see how your built up your guards up and how the dry conversations were cut short. He were annoyed that you kept on being strong for both of you although you were hurt. He didn't know how to handle,he couldn't find any word to make the situation better.So he ran away. But now that the exam pressure is gone, he found himself in the worse agnoy. He have to fix this.

...............................

''Y/N wait!''

''Y/N there are flowers for you in front of the common room..again''

''Miss Y/L/N, stop running in the hallway and bumping into everyone!The school is not a playground for Tag''

''Y/N I'm sorry i can't come to the library with you today''

It is an understatement to say the following weeks were funny and eventful for everyone at Hogwarts.They got some free shows to enjoy. It was a strange sight for them at first to see Malfoy trying to chase his former girlfriend. But then they got used to seeing you running in the hallway with Draco trying to catch up, flowers for you in the classes and in front of ur dorm, your friends getting paid to leave you alone, and everyone is just so invested to know what is going to be Draco's next move and how you are going to slip through it,again,some betting it won't last three weeks.

Despite you using all of your effort not to lose the bet and keep ur dignity, there you are again,back up against the walls and embraced in someone's warmth.

The familiar mixed scent of green apple and pine hovers and a wave of nostalgia washed over you with the familiar chest-ache.

There you are again– after nights and nights of crying your eyes out till they were dry– you find yourself pinned under the Draco fucking Malfoy against the cold stone wall of Hogswart .

''Y/N'', he voice cracked out of his throat betraying the tough act he is trying to put on. He just couldn't take it anymore. He can't stand the void that left him with dark circles under his eyes and he refused to believe you are doing well without him.

''Come back to me,love. I know you missed me too''

His eyes do not match the arrogance the words are carrying. You hate yourself for it but that longing gaze filled with sorrow and a tight grip on your waist was all it took to break down the self control you have tried so hard to build around you. He see right through you.

''Didn't you want this Draco, wasn't this what you wanted? away from me'',

''I was scared Y/N, i was so scared that i doubted us. So i ran away like a coward because i didn't know any better..i'm sorry'', he mean every apology he is saying.

''But now i'm scared to live without you, i don't want to be away from you,never again, please love, come back to me''

Your knees are weak and your vision is blurry. You taste something sour, is that a tear, are you crying again? ''Merlin,i'm so damn tired to crying'', you thought.

Soft lips pressed down on yours. You felt your stomach dropped. The taste of fire whiskey and your tears linger on your lips. A few sobs chocked out of you, feelings like you are finally woken up from a nightmare. All these touch and warmth,merlin knows how much you yearned for these. A sharp pain drew some blood from ur lips as if he is letting out all the frustration and finally finding comfort in it. The familiar feeling of belonging and love filled up the void.

''shouldn't have let you go my love''

Students of Hogwarts are going to be happy that they won't have to worry about falling victims to the certain couple's stunts and tantrums .

.....................................

I'm sorry this is rushed and bad but here's the ending >~<

[lizhly-writes]

introducing new character: liang yuwen. not sure if i'll stick with this exact characterization, or even this character role (she was actually meant to be a rival character for chen lihua), but i ended up here anyway, so. here you go.

Jiang Mingxi kept perfectly still as her mother ran fingers through her hair.

"You have such nice hair," Liang Yuwen sighed. "It's unbelievable how little you do to maintain it! You never use any of the conditioners or oils I send you, but it's still like this..."

Jiang Mingxi only half-paid attention. This track of conversation was well-worn; the very first thing her mother would say upon seeing her would always be about her hair. Jiang Mingxi had mostly learned to tune it out by now, as she did with most of the things her mother said at her.

"I still can't believe you've cut it so short," Liang Yuwen said, as if Jiang Mingxi had recently shaved it all off instead of going for just-past-chin-length years ago. She picked up a comb -- some ornately carved wooden confection that Jiang Mingxi had gotten her years ago. "If I was you, I would never. I might have cried, if my hair looked like this. I suppose, if you like it -- but I really do think you should think about growing it out again."

Jiang Mingxi was actually thinking about cutting it shorter. This was not something she was going to bother telling her mother.

"You looked so pretty with long hair," Liang Yuwen said, starting to comb through it. "What does A-Ran say about it?"

Jiang Mingxi took a split second to register that her mother actually wanted a response instead of a doll to talk at and play with. "What about him."

"Your hair. What does he think about it? Does he like it?"

Jiang Mingxi shrugged. "It's not like it's attached to his head."

Liang Yuwen sighed, disappointed as she always was when it came to how Jiang Mingxi talked about Yang Haoran. "He's your man, Ming-er. Of course it matters if he likes it. Surely he has opinions on your appearance."

Sure. Fine. Yang Haoran had opinions. He cared about appearances, in the sense that he enjoyed making jokes about them. She'd always hear offhand remarks about his skincare routine and his manicure and how much effort he put into his pretty face, despite the fact they both knew he was the kind of person who wouldn't even bother brushing his hair if social standards didn't make him. At one point, she had gifted him a full skincare and cosmetics set. He had laughed so hard he almost cried.

"He's fine with it," Jiang Mingxi said.

"Is he? Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean there's no problems."

Technically speaking, Yang Haoran had, at one point, expressed disappointment about her lack of makeup and pretty outfits. This was less because he felt that she should be wearing pretty outfits and more about how he felt somebody in their relationship should be wearing pretty outfits.

This had led to some interesting things in their sex life that, again, Jiang Mingxi wasn't going to bother telling her mother.

"It's just... you're still not married. Of course, it's good that you're watching out for your career, but you have to keep his interest somehow, at least until the wedding."

"We fuck three times a day," Jiang Mingxi didn't say, because logistically speaking, she could probably only manage once or twice a day before work got in the way. "It's fine," Jiang Mingxi said instead.

Liang Yuwen shook her head. "Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean there's no problems. That's a tenet in all communication. Not all things are said out loud. It's a shame 'out loud' is the only way you ever understand anything."

This was one of the things that her mother always picked at. Jiang Mingxi had gotten tired of hearing it years ago.

"Oh, don't make that face," Liang Yuwen said, without actually getting a look at Jiang Mingxi's face. "It's just an observation, dear -- you have to admit you are awfully straightforward. People don't just say what they think, there's subtlety involved. Subtlety will get you everywhere, but... well! It's not really a skill you practice. It really does seem I'm a terrible teacher, doesn't it?"

Jiang Mingxi didn't bother saying anything. There was no point; it wasn't a question with a correct answer. Agree, and then Mother would accuse her of being a rude, unfilial child. Disagree, and then Mother would ask, if she was such a good teacher, why Jiang Mingxi hadn't learned anything.

"You're always so quiet," Liang Yuwen said. Her hands tightened on Jiang Mingxi's hair. "Are you upset? I'm only trying to look out for you. It's only that people like looking at new, pretty things. Of course my Ming-er is very beautiful, but you always choose such boring things, over and over again. Don't you think you should put a little more effort? I'm sure A-Ran would like it. It's just... people can get bored so easily."

....Was she saying...?

"You've gone so stiff," Liang Yuwen said. "This sort of posture isn't very good for you, Ming-er. I'm sure you're already getting some aches and pains. You'll need to visit the masseuse -- oh, or we could order one over. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"What are you saying about Haoran," Jiang Mingxi said lowly. Liang Yuwen didn't try that hard at subtlety when she was talking to Jiang Mingxi, not when she was aware that too subtle would fly over Jiang Mingxi's head. There were very few ways to interpret what Liang Yuwen was saying.

"Hmm? A-Ran? I only said he might like it if you try something else with your hair."

"You're saying he'll get bored of me."

Liang Yuwen sighed. "Oh, that's such an unpleasant thing to say. Do you really want to talk about this?"

"You're the one who brought it up," Jiang Mingxi said. "Why would you even say that?"

Their relationship was fine. Yang Haoran was happy, Jiang Mingxi was happy -- no matter what Liang Yuwen said, everything was fine. Why would her mother even --

"Ming-er, it's rude to raise your voice."

"He's been engaged to me for over ten years. If he was going to get bored of me, wouldn't it be before now?"

"A-Ran," Liang Yuwen said, setting down the comb with a faint click, "is a very nice boy. Very... obedient. Very unlikely to rock the boat, don't you agree? Ming-er, if he was bored of you, do you really think he'd say so?"

... Yang Haoran complained all the time. Jiang Mingxi thought that he did it sometimes just because he thought it was funny, always about annoying little things that she was sure he didn't actually care about. It was easy assume that if something actually bothered him, he'd just complain about it.

Looking back, though, she couldn't remember him ever complaining about anything he was actually upset about. Did it make more sense to assume that he never had serious problems, or that he did and just never talked about them?

If he was really unhappy...

"Ten years," Jiang Mingxi repeated.

"Yes, about that," Liang Yuwen said. "Have you heard of the sunk-cost fallacy?"

"You think my relationship is a sunk-cost fallacy?"

"An engagement is, by nature, temporary. When that engagement develops into a marriage -- well, some things become... intolerable, when they become permanent. Men do get cold feet at the altar, sometimes."

"He's not -- he wouldn't--"

"Oh, maybe he wouldn't," Liang Yuwen said. "I could just be overthinking it. I'm sure you know A-Ran best, but it's only reasonable to worry about these things."

"Is it?"

"I just want you to be careful. I only want what's best for you, Ming-er. Now, why don't we try something else with your hair?"

[wooahaes]

tangled lights

pairing: non-idol!jaehyuk x gn!reader

genre: coffee shop au. coworkers au.

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. reader isnt a fan of the holiday season.

daisy's notes: ngl sometimes i kinda miss having a christmas tree

Why the hell did the store need a Christmas tree out on the floor? It was just taking up space, and someone (read: you) had to be the unfortunate idiot who decorated it all alone while the rest of your coworkers got to do their actual jobs. You had exams to study for! And that should be your priority, not… untangling this stupid spaghetti-pile of lights.

Okay, fine, so maybe Christmas wasn’t your favorite time of year. Sure, it brought some nice things, like the limited time specialty hot chocolate drinks that you were more than happy to use your employee discount on… and the limited time cookies that you’d always steal the leftovers of when you had the closing shift. But Christmas was just a reminder of too much bullshit. That your family wasn’t in the city, so unless you saved the money to travel, you’d only be calling home this year. Or the fact that you were alone, since Christmas was much more couple-y. The countless number of couples who came into the coffee shop were people you had to greet with a forced smile (they never seemed to notice, though), and it was starting to get tiring because they were always a thousand times more cuddly and sappy than normal.

Some people might call it jealousy. You preferred to think of yourself as more practical. What was so special about the Christmas season that made people awful to deal with? Couples aside, you swore people got much more high-strung with you and other people in service jobs for no damn reason. Sorry, but yelling at you wasn’t going to get their kid the toy that sold out immediately. 

Andn ow the fucking lights were even more tangled. The place was empty, and it was late, and you were about to start yelling. Your boss needed this tree up yesterday and the busy hours had kept you from doing the damn job. 

“Fuck this!” You threw them down in a rage, getting up and walking away. All you needed was a few minutes and you’d tackle it again. How did these lights even get this tangled? After your shift today, all you wanted to do was make your stupid hot chocolate drink, clean the machines, and go home to watch whatever video essay popped up on YouTube. With another frustrated groan, you slammed a fist down on the countertop, before relaxing. With a sigh, you looked back at your current enemy. “Why did she have to pick me for this…?”

Someone like Asahi would be better at this. You saw the drawings he made and the photos he took—he had an eye for this kind of thing. Or Jaehyuk; he loved this time of year. Sometimes you wondered how he managed to be so positive at work, but you’d seen the moments where he needed to step into the back to collect himself. If anything, seeing Jaehyuk was just this reminder that you were this mess compared to your coworkers. No wonder none of them seemed to like you all that much: you weren’t there to be best friends with any of them, you were there to get paid. Sure, you were friendly enough with them, but you never really let shit slide: if someone treated you wrong, you called them out in the back room and demanded their basic respect. 

Maybe that was why people didn’t seem to like you. Other people still made an effort to be friends. And you… Well, your friends had joked once that you were an “acquired taste” as a person—but one they appreciated nonetheless. The “they asked for no pickles” friend who couldn’t stand to see someone else struggle out of the need to be polite when the answer was just “speak up for yourself.” You let out a long sigh. Maybe… Maybe you needed to find a different job where you could start over. 

The sound of your name being called made you look up, and you stared at where Jaehyuk of all people was standing outside the store entrance. He waved at you, speaking louder, although it was far too muffled for you to fully understand what he was saying. You made your way over, clicking the door unlocked, and he stepped in, thanking you quickly.

“I forgot my textbook,” he said, dusting snow off of his shoulders. Then he looked at you again, “Why are you still here?”

Maybe you’d die right here and not have to admit that a Christmas tree was getting the better of you. 

Of course, Jaehyuk had to lean forward enough to see the tree. “Oh, you’re still working on it?” He locked the door behind him, already shedding his coat. “I can help! It’s already getting late—and you still have to close up properly, right?”

Wait, what. 

“I think if we work together, we’ll be done faster,” Jaehyuk continued on without much of a care, making his way over to where you’d thrown down the Christmas lights. “I’ll start untangling these while you get the ornaments from the back.”

At long last, your brain seemed to have caught up, and the first thing you said was “You don’t have to do that.” 

Jaehyuk had already pulled over a chair, “It’s late,” he said. “And you have more to do—I don’t mind helping. I can call Asahi, too, if you want—”

“No!” You made your way over. “No, that’s… You don’t have to bother him. This was supposed to be my job for some reason. You can get your book and go home,” you said, reaching for the string lights in his hands that he was already managing to untangle far easier than you did. “Really. It’s okay.”

Jaehyuk looked up at you, frowning a little. “You can ask for help if you need it,” he said. “And… I owe you.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Owe me?”

“For Saturday,” he said. “You chewed out that lady after she purposefully spilled her coffee down my apron.”

“Uh. Yeah, because she literally could have burned you,” you crossed your arms. “She’s lucky she left that cup sitting up there for so fucking long otherwise you could have literally sued her, I’m sure.” 

“My brain always seems to turn off when people get that angry,” he admitted. “It’s nice to know you have my back.” Jaehyuk paused, looking up from the lights in his hands. “... The ornaments?”

Fuck. Right. You walked away to find the box from the back room, snagging his textbook from where it was sitting on a table. One less thing for him to worry about. He thanked you when you set it down on the table next to him, and you pushed the box aside. No need to start hanging those until the lights were up. You reached for the other end of the tangled lights, and began to work again.

“Like I was saying…, You don’t owe me for that. I would have done it for anyone,” you shrugged. “I’m not gonna let someone get mistreated because some customers genuinely think they’re always right.” 

“You still didn’t have to do it,” he said. “I appreciate it. I always like working shifts with you because of it.”

The sentiment nearly made you laugh. He had to be joking, right? “Riiight, sure.”

He looked up, stopping in his work for a moment. “Why did you say it like that?”

“I know what other people think of me,” you said. “You don’t have to pretend you like me. Respecting me is fine.” 

“But I do like you.” Jaehyuk only continued to stare at you, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

If anyone else had said it, you’d find it hard to believe. But Jaehyuk was different: Jaehyuk didn’t seem like the kind of person who would outright lie—at least not so easily. The quick way he said it, the genuine confusion on his face… Suddenly, you had to wonder why you’d mentally cataloged Jaehyuk as someone so out of reach for someone like you.

“Oh.” You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, and you busied yourself even further with untangling the lights. “Hey, um… Jaehyuk?”

He hadn’t stopped staring at you, still so confused. “Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you want to help me decorate the tree?” You looked up. “And… Maybe grab a hot chocolate later, too? I mean, you don’t have to, but—”

He chuckled softly, that same soft, sweet smile on his face as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Shackled (Chapter 16)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader

Warning: There are some intense, dubiously consenting and nonconsensual sexual themes in this series, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Summary: You hate Outer Banks with a passion and are working hard to get out despite all the obstacles in your way. Rafe himself eventually becomes one of those obstacles after a night of low impulse control. Will you be able to overcome him or with you have no choice but to submit.

Slow Burn

Series Masterlist

Tag list:

@sophiexoxo-lol

"I've always wanted to ask, what are these?" Rafe holds up a small circular pink pill to my vision. 

"Birth Control," you rasp. 

"You take birth control? Since when" he asks

You throw him a look of annoyance and blow a breath of exasperation. 

"We had been fucking for several months, and not once did I ever mention anything about a pregnancy scare. Did the idea of me being on birth control never occur to you?"

He shrugs and continues with his task. 

Rafe had taken it upon himself to oversee your health, which included picking up and organizing your prescribed medication in your pill box. At first, it was difficult to trust him, so you made sure you had all your tablets before taking them, but he managed to prove himself, and you became too tired to keep up with your tablets. 

He'd also gotten into touching you often, especially during bathtime. You've tried to thwart his advances several times, but he always seemed to get his way. Eventually, fear was replaced with chagrin, and every time he dragged his fingers down your forearm, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

You had to go into surgery in the next few days, and you had been waiting for an orthopedic surgeon to travel to the island to assist you, Annie Rose said your ribs weren't healing properly, so she had to put in a referral for one. In the meantime, she said no strenuous activity, making sure to fix Rafe with a look.

It would have been funny if you didn't feel like you were being held captive. 

Since the first bathtub incident, you thought of ways to escape Rafe's grasp. You had to heal first, that was a given, and it wasn't leaving that was giving you the issue. It's what you would do after you leave. 

You had no money or family; all you had was Rafe, and if he kept on with his possessive ways, he's all you would ever have. 

You could always go back to Misty's and beg for your old job back, but then how would you find enough money to get on the ferry, your racked your brain trying to find a solution to this puzzle, but something was always in the way. 

You suddenly felt lips pressed against yours as fingers crept toward your nether region. 

"What are you thinking about?" Rafe says. 

"What if I never wake up from the surgery?" you ask, wanting him to believe that the surgery was what you were worried about. 

"You'll be fine, and you'll probably feel much better afterward, so no worries, in fact." he moves his body underneath the covers, placing himself between your legs and pulling off your pajama bottoms. 

"Rafe," you call. He ignores you as he rubs a finger up and down your clothed slit. 

"Rafe, stop, I'm tired," you beg.

He pulls your panties to the side, shocking you with his tongue to your clit before wrapping his mouth around it and sucking. 

You couldn't say anything else. It didn't matter since Rafe would do what he wanted anyways. 

So you gave in to the moment. Drowning in forced pleasure.

*** 

You were fatigued, your body felt limp and heavy, and it took too much effort to move a toe, let alone push away the fingers creeping up your thighs.

You struggle to open your eyes as you look up at the perpetrator attempting to invade your space. There he stood, Rafe Cameron, looking back down at you—the expectation on his face, with a cloud of lust shadowing his eyes.

Of course, it had been him; it could only be him. He'd taken it upon himself these last few weeks to terrorize you with his presence consistently.

You'd just gotten the surgery for your broken ribs, and as you looked around, you saw Rafe had no problem setting you up in his room again. Now he won't even allow recovering at the hospital. He needed you to be around him as much as possible. So you can only imagine his frustration whenever he had to leave for work.

.Since your trip from the hospital, amidst your travels in and out of consciousnesses, he was the only face you ever saw.

Without taking his eyes off yours, he pulls off your blanket, causing your top to pul up, exposing a bit of your navel. He drags his fingers under it, pulling them closer to your pubic area.

"Surgeon says you'll be able to resume sexual activity in about two weeks." He briefly takes his eyes off yours as he uses his fingers to pull at your pajama bottoms.

You whimpered, hoping he wouldn't try anything while you suffered weakly.

"Don't worry, I'm patient."

He looks back into your eyes, bringing his face closer to yours.

"I can't say I'm not excited by the thought." He gently places his lips against yours.

And all you could think of was how you were going to escape when you could barely move your body.