#and the only thing wrong with it was that one player had to drop because they hadn't fully grasped at first they'd be killing said demons

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

ok i can't contain myself to write so i will be reading (sorry for all the tiktoks send over dms hahaha) ⬇️

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

always obsessed with your descriptions and im grinning so hard knowing that's ME hehehe

It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you.

NOT FOR LONG I READ THE WARNING

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots. It was refreshing. 

my dom girlyyy

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s. Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGG (muffled behind a pillow)

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

me rn: login who???

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

im so giddily rn, their banter is TOP TIER

 “Logan’s a lucky guy.”

OH I SPELT IT WRONG LOLLLLL

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

🤭 im like a schoolgirl rn

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

imma be so honest i thought WE were gonna be cheating but i guess HE'S cheating that scumbag

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe said softly, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler,  “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

I KNOW so give me that dick 😁

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice. As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety creeped in. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

i need him to SLAM into logan ohmygod

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

ANGRY MAKEOUT SESSION LETS GOOO

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

oh im horny

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

oh HE'S horny

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on. 

ok im at a cafe, reading this smut on my 14'' screen where everyone can surely see. let me pack up and go home and i'll be back to react.

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue. 

I'M BACK

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

Oh. My. God. this is so fucking hot what the FUCK

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world. 

it's me, but THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!!!!

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged. 

IM GRINNING my favorite part of public sex smut is the fact they're almost caught hahahahaa

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you with a mixture of affection and desire. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

my baby my baby my babyyy

final thoughts—i'm obsessed with this. ur writing. you. ohmygod, as always, the first thing that comes to my head is your descriptions. when you were describing reader, the medical training, the equipment and the environment, i always feel so immersed by your vocabulary and imagery. next, the fucking BANTER, oh you got me clutching my chest, giggling in the middle of a cafe. thank god no one was looking over my screen. but truly, i love how lowkey smitten rafe is with reader. he's always in love with her before the story truly begins and i love how much softer this version of rafe is. don't get me wrong, he's possessive and a beast on the ice, but something about him is so baby girl. thank you, gigi, for doing my request justice, i swear i want more!!!!

looking like motivation - hockey!r.c (+18)

requested by my #1 @zya4lifers

warnings: meantions of cheating; SMUT.

Rafe’s day started the same way it had for the last two months: with a groan of pain that shot up from his knee and settled into his mood like a stubborn storm cloud. 

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

At least that was what he thought when he first met you. 

But two weeks in, his hatred had morphed into something else entirely, something way more complicated. He wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe when he caught you singing quietly along with the radio while taping up his knee, or when you’d given him that first, honest-to-God smile that wasn’t out of politeness but genuine amusement at some stupid joke he’d made. And he made a lot of those. 

Now, sitting on that same damn table, Rafe found himself looking forward to PT in a way that had nothing to do with his injury. You walked in, clipboard in hand, looking as professional as always. It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you. Rafe knew he got under your skin—hell, he made sure of it. He could tell by the way your eyes flicked up to meet his for just a second longer than necessary before you quickly looked away. You tried to be cool, but he knew better.

“Alright, Cameron. How’s the knee today?”

He put on his best wounded-puppy face. “Terrible. I might never skate again.”

“Shut up.”

“And I could be better,” Rafe drawled, his lips curling into that signature smirk. “But seeing you always helps.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking at you.

You tried to ignore him, busying yourself with adjusting the equipment. “Let’s focus on your knee, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Rafe said, stretching out on the table with a lazy grin.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched up. “We’ve got to work on your pain tolerance.”

He couldn’t resist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to keep me on my toes.”

Finally, you looked up, your expression deadpan. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to avoid actually doing your therapy, Cameron.”

Touché.

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots. It was refreshing. 

The first few minutes of the session passed in relative silence as you guided him through the exercises, your hands expertly working his injured knee. Rafe winced, but it wasn’t all from the pain. It was from trying to resist the urge to say something that might actually cross the line. But resisting wasn’t really his style.

“So, what’s your boyfriend up to this weekend?” Rafe asked, his voice casual, but his eyes sharp, watching your reaction.

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s. Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

You looked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Out of town.”

Rafe snorted, unable to help himself. “Figures.”

You frowned, straightening up to give him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rafe shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing.”

“He’s busy,” you said defensively.

“Too busy for you?” he pushed, his tone dripping with faux concern. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, I’d make time.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, “I’m sure you would.”

“You don’t think I would?”

“I think you’ve already got your hands full with the cheerleading team.” 

He liked to pretend you sounded jealous and not critical. 

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Cheerleaders are fun and all, but they’re not really my type.”

Okay, that was half a lie, but in his defense, he hadn’t slept with anyone on the cheer squad since sophomore year. 

You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as you adjusted the strap on his knee brace. “And what exactly is your type, Cameron?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “Complicated. Smart. Gorgeous.”

You didn’t miss a beat, even as your pulse quickened. “So, basically the opposite of you?”

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile threatening to break through. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied smoothly, his eyes locked on yours.

There was no denying the chemistry, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. But you were with someone else, someone who, despite his flaws, you cared about. Still, Rafe made it hard to remember why you were trying to resist in the first place.

“Rafe, we really should focus on your PT,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

“Trust me, I am focusing,” he replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t talking about his knee.

You rolled your eyes, standing up straighter to put some distance between you. 

“Right. Well, you need to focus on this next exercise. We’re going to work on your range of motion.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, watching you with a lazy smile as you moved to demonstrate the exercise. He couldn’t help but admire the way you carried yourself—confident, knowledgeable, and completely fucking beautiful. It was a challenge, and Rafe Cameron loved a challenge.

As you guided his leg through the motion, your hands firm but gentle, Rafe couldn’t resist pushing a little more. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“What you’re doing this weekend,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch.

You glanced away, focusing on the movement of his knee, your fingers brushing against his skin as you adjusted the angle. “I’ll probably just catch up on some work. Maybe relax.”

“Sounds boring,” Rafe remarked, though there was a playful lilt to his voice. “You should let me take you out.”

You looked up sharply, caught off guard by his directness. “Rafe, I’m—”

“Taken, I know,” he interrupted, his tone still light but with an undercurrent of something more serious. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, does it? Just as friends.”

“Just as friends?” you echoed skeptically, knowing full well what his idea of ‘just friends’ probably entailed.

Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “We could get dinner, maybe hit up a bar, talk about something other than my knee for once. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, before it came back stronger, more determined. He leaned back on the table, pretending to stretch as he tried to mask the sting of rejection. "No?" he echoed, as if the concept was foreign to him.

You crossed your arms, standing firm even though his eyes on you made your heart race. "No. We both know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to happen."

"And what exactly am I trying to do?" he asked, feigning innocence with a smirk that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to get drawn into his game. "You know what. I’m here to help you with your injury, not to entertain whatever fantasy you’ve got going on."

"Who says it’s a fantasy?" he shot back, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone that caught you off guard. "Maybe I just want to get to know you better."

You paused, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. But Rafe was hard to read when he wanted to be, his playful exterior a well-practiced mask that he rarely let slip. "Rafe, you're a good guy, but—"

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

"Fine," you conceded with a small smile. "Maybe ‘good’ is a stretch. But you’re not as bad as you want people to think."

Rafe’s smirk faded. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it made you hesitate, made you wonder if there was more to him than just the cocky, relentless flirt.

But before you could dwell on it, he was back to his usual self, flashing you that devil-may-care grin that made it hard to stay mad at him. "You know, I’d actually take that as a compliment if it came from anyone else."

"Don’t get too excited," you replied, trying to keep things light. "I still think you’re a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass," he teased, stupidly blinking his lashes up at you.

You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "You really don’t give up, do you?"

"Not when it comes to something I want," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Cameron, this isn’t going to happen. I have a boyfriend."

He shrugged, unbothered. "And? You’re no fun. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You handed him a water bottle, expression neutral. “You’re just out of shape.”

“Out of shape?” He looked at her, incredulous. “Do you see this body?”

You didn’t take the bait. “I see a guy who’s been slacking off on his conditioning.”

He laughed, low and warm, as he took a sip of water. “You’re tough. Tougher than most of the coaches I’ve had.”

You shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

 “Logan’s a lucky guy.”

The hockey world was small, and word got around, of course he knew his name.

“Logan’s great,” you said, a little too quickly.

Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

He didn’t push it further, though. Instead, he fell back into his usual routine of teasing and flirting. Every time you guided his leg through a stretch or adjusted the equipment, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like if things were different. If he were the one you were coming home to after a long day, if he were the one you smiled at without that guarded look in your eyes.

But you were with Logan, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to cross that line. Not when you were clearly trying so hard to keep things professional between the two of you.

As the session wrapped up, you handed him his schedule for the next few days, your demeanor as cool and composed as ever. “I’ll see you on Thursday. Make sure you keep up with the exercises over the next couple of days, and don’t overdo it.”

He took the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. It was enough to send a jolt of electricity through him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

 “Can’t make any promises.”

He spent the weekend bored out of his mind, thinking about you—wondering if you were with Logan, if the guy was actually smart enough to know what he had.

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

The guy was too perfect, too dependable, too fucking boring. And Rafe had been praying, in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone, that something would happen—something that would make you see Logan for the jackass he really was. It wasn’t that he thought he was a better guy; he knew his own flaws better than anyone. But he also knew that he could make you happier, make you laugh harder, make you feel things that Logan never could.

So when you walked in late to the next session, he was ready to make a joke, to tease you about finally deciding to show up. But the words died on his lips when he saw you. You weren’t looking at him, not really, just muttering a half-hearted apology as you dropped your bag in the corner. But when you finally met his gaze, his chest tightened.

Your eyes were bloodshot red, the kind of red that came from hours of crying, from tears that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. You looked exhausted, like you hadn’t slept in days, and your usual spark was nowhere to be found.

His first instinct was to make a joke, to lighten the mood the way he always did, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice void of its usual cockiness. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that was meant to shut someone up, not because you actually meant it. You were far from okay.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone teasing, but even he could hear the concern underneath.

“I know, sorry,” you replied, your voice small, almost defeated.

Rafe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. This wasn’t like you. You were always so put together, so in control, and seeing you like this was…so unsettling.

“What happened?” he asked, more serious now, the joking tone completely gone.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the equipment, but Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Not when he could see the pain written all over your face.

“Come on, what’s going on?” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Did something happen with Logan?”

The way you flinched at his name told him everything he needed to know. His chest tightened, protectiveness swelling inside him. He’d always thought Logan was too good to be true, but seeing you like this confirmed it.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly as you finally looked at him, “I mean, yes, but… it’s not like that.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What did he do?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you tried to hold it together. But there was no point in pretending anymore, not when Rafe was looking at you like that—like he actually cared, like he was ready to go to war for you if that’s what it took.

“He cheated,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill over. “I found out through a fucking DM on Instagram. Some girl… she just messaged me out of the blue and told me everything. And when I confronted him, he didn’t even deny it. He just—just said it wasn’t a big deal.”

Rafe’s vision blurred with red-hot anger. He wanted to find Logan and beat the shit out of him for making you cry, for being stupid enough to let you go. But more than that, he wanted to make you feel better, to make the hurt go away, even if he didn’t know how.

“That fucking asshole,” He growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “I swear to God, I’ll—let me get on that ice and I’ll wipe the entire ring with his face.”

“Rafe, don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it, okay?”

His heart twisted at the broken look in your eyes, the way your voice wavered as if you didn’t quite believe your own words.

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe said softly, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler,  “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t like him to be so serious. But here he was, looking at you like you were the most important person in the world, and it made your heart ache even more.

“I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” you admitted, your voice small and lost.

He reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally escaped.

“You deserve someone who knows what they have when they have you,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on yours. “Someone who would never make you cry like this. Someone who would never, ever cheat on you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over at his words. “Rafe…”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re… you’re amazing, you know that? Any guy would be lucky to have you, and Logan’s a fucking idiot for not seeing that.”

You shook your head, trying to keep it together, but it was no use.

You started to cry, the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sobs that you’d been holding in all weekend. And before you knew it, you were collapsing into his arms, letting him hold you as you cried, his arms strong and steady around you.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to shush you or tell you everything was going to be okay. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back as you let it all out, crying into his chest until there were no more tears left.

When you finally pulled back, your face red and puffy from crying, you only uttered a small, “Thank you.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes soft as he looked down at you. “Anytime.”

And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling away. He blinked, a little stunned by the gesture, but before he could say anything, you stepped back, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“Do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?” you said quickly, your voice still shaky. “I’m not sure I-“

“Of course not.”

You breathed out in relief, “Thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to tell you to stay, to tell you that it was okay to not be okay, that you didn’t have to face this alone. But he knew you needed space, needed time to process everything that had happened.

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding as you turned to leave. “Tomorrow.”

He wanted to be there for you, to be the one you turned to when everything fell apart. But more than that, he wanted to be the one to put you back together again, to show you that not all guys were like Logan—that he wasn’t like Logan.

And as you disappeared down the hallway, he made a silent promise to himself: he was going to make you see that. No matter what it took.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

The weeks passed, each session with Rafe seamlessly flowing into the next. What started as this totally professional thing, strictly business, slowly morphed into something way more personal. His cocky jokes and playful banter had shifted into these deep conversations that actually mattered, and somewhere along the way, you found myself getting closer to him than you ever expected.

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice. As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety creeped in. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that he might distance himself once he was back on the ice. After all, athletes had their own lives, their own routines, and you were just the therapist who had helped him get to this point. But when he invited you to his first game, the gesture came as a welcome. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he’d slowly lurked his way into your heart. 

It was after a particularly intense session, where you’d pushed him harder than ever before, that he brought it up. You were finishing up, wiping down the equipment while he caught his breath, stretching out his legs on the bench.

“You know,” Rafe started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more in it, “I’ve got my first game back tomorrow night.”

You looked up, catching the subtle edge in his tone. “Yeah, I’ve heard. You must be excited.”

“Excited? Nervous as hell, more like it.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “It’s been a long time coming. A lot of pressure to perform, y’know?”

You nodded, understanding him. You’d seen how hard he’d worked, how much this comeback meant to him. “You’ll do great, Cameron. You’re more than ready.”

He smiled at that, but there was something else in his expression, something hesitant. “I was thinking…maybe you could come. To the game, I mean. It’d be nice to have someone there who’s seen the whole process, who knows what it took to get back on that ice.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. It wasn’t just the invitation—it was what it represented. He didn’t just see you as the therapist who’d helped him heal. He saw you as someone important, someone he wanted by his side as he took this next step.

 “I’d love to, Rafe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a grin that was equal parts gratitude and something else— “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now, “because I’d hate for you to miss it. You’ve been a big part of this, more than you know.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself blushing under his gaze. 

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, but the look in his eyes told you that he saw right through your attempt to downplay it.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad it’s you,” Rafe said, his voice earnest. “I don’t think I could’ve done this with anyone else.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world at that moment, made it hard to breathe. This was more than just an invitation to a game. This was him telling you, in his own way, that you mattered to him—that you were more than just his therapist, that you were someone he wanted to keep around.

“I’m glad it was me too,” you whispered back, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

“Tomorrow night, then.”

“Tomorrow night.”

Now, as you sit in the stands, watching Rafe skate out onto the ice, you feel a nervous anticipation that has little to do with the game itself.

Just before the puck drops, Rafe catches your eye, giving you a confident wink that sends your heart racing. He knows what this game means, not just for him, but for you as well.

Logan is there, playing on the opposite team. You haven’t seen him in exactly two months. Whatever feelings you had for him disappeared the moment you found out about his betrayal, but your ego still hurts like hell.

The energy in the arena is electric, a buzz that makes his blood hum with anticipation. His first game back, and the stakes couldn’t be higher—not just because of his injury, not just because it’s a rivalry match, but because Logan is on the other side of the ice. Rafe’s jaw clenches at the thought of that bastard, the memory of your tear-streaked face still fresh in his mind.

During warm-ups, he spotted Logan, skating like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him. Rafe’s grip tightens on his stick, his knuckles white against the black tape. The rage simmering beneath his skin isn’t just about the game. It’s personal.

His focus is razor-sharp, every movement precise, every play calculated. But no matter how much he tries to concentrate on the game, his eyes keep drifting back to Logan, who skates circles around the ice like he owns it.

The first period passes without incident, but by the second, the tension is boiling over. Rafe feels it building, that need to do something, to break Logan’s face in half. He doesn’t just want to beat him; he wants to humiliate him, to knock that smug look off his face once and for all.

Then it happens.

Midway through the second period, Logan makes a hard hit on one of Rafe’s teammates, sending the guy crashing into the boards. The hit is clean, but it’s the arrogance in Logan’s smirk that pushes Rafe over the edge.

He doesn’t hesitate. 

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

“You think you can just get away with that?” He snarls, his voice low and menacing as he shoves Logan hard in the chest, the force sending him stumbling back on his skates.

Logan’s eyes flash with surprise, quickly followed by anger. “What the hell’s your problem, Cameron?”

He doesn’t bother with a reply. 

He swings, his fist connecting solidly with Logan’s jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone against bone is drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Rafe doesn’t care. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting to unleash all the pent-up anger and frustration that’s been eating away at him since the day you walked into that PT room with your heart shattered.

Logan staggers back, his expression twisting with fury. He recovers quickly, launching himself at Rafe with a wild swing, but Rafe is ready. He dodges the punch and counters with another one of his own, this time aiming for Logan’s ribs. He can feel the impact reverberate up his arm, but it’s not enough. He wants more.

“Come on!” He shouts, face red from all the pent-up anger simmering inside him. “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Logan grits his teeth, struggling to keep his balance. “You’re fucking crazy, Cameron!”

“You haven't seen shit," He spits back, landing another punch to Logan’s midsection. “But at least I know how to treat someone right.”

Logan’s eyes widen, the realization of what this is really about dawning on him. “This is about her? You’re seriously going to throw down over some girl?”

Rafe’s vision goes red at the mention of you, the casual way Logan dismisses you as “some girl.” He doesn’t care that he’s going too far, doesn’t care that the refs are probably going to break this up any second. All he cares about is making Logan feel a fraction of the pain he caused you.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” He growls, grabbing Logan by the collar and yanking him close. “You don’t even get to think about her.”

Logan tries to shove him off, but Rafe is relentless, landing punch after punch, each one fueled by the memory of you crying in his arms, by the way your voice trembled when you told him what Logan had done.

By now, the refs are on them, trying to pull Rafe away, but he isn’t finished. Not yet.

“You don’t deserve her,” He hisses through clenched teeth, his fist connecting with Logan’s face one last time before the refs finally manage to separate them. “You never did.”

Logan stumbles back, his face a bloody mess, and for a brief moment, he feels a little satisfaction. But it isn’t enough to stop the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming need to protect you from ever being hurt like that again.

He sits in the penalty box, his chest heaving as he tries to calm the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He can barely hear the crowd over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he knows they’re going wild. The fight has been brutal, and he’s given Logan exactly what he deserved. But as the rush of the fight starts to fade, he starts to overthink: how will you react?

The game ends with a hard-fought win for his team, but the victory feels hollow. As his teammates celebrate on the ice, Rafe’s thoughts are miles away, fixated on you. What if you’re pissed? What if you think he’s overstepped?

After the final whistle, he makes his way to the locker room, his mind racing. He’s about to strip off his gear when he hears footsteps approaching, quick and determined. Before he can even turn around, the locker room door flies open, and there you are, marching straight toward him with a look on your face that he can’t quite read.

Shit. You’re mad.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, his voice low and uncertain as he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I know that might’ve looked bad out there, but I swear—”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

His mind goes blank as all he can focus on is the way your mouth moves against his. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before—raw, heated, desperate.

His hands instantly find your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you flush against him, the heat of your bodies mingling in the small space between you. Your kiss is wild, all tongues and teeth, and when you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan, he realizes this is real.

You’re kissing him.

“Fuck,” he gasps against your mouth, his voice ragged with need. But you don’t give him a chance to catch his breath, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving with a feverish intensity that makes his head spin.

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

The way you say it, half-growled, half-breathed, sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t help the sound that escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a groan. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to keep control, but you aren’t making it easy.

You press yourself even closer, your body flush against his as you kiss him again, harder this time, more demanding. Your tongue sweeps into his mouth, claiming him, and Rafe is more than happy to let you take the lead. He’s never felt anything like this before—this urgency, this hunger that makes him want to lose himself in you completely.

You tug on his hair, tilting his head back to give yourself better access, and Rafe nearly loses it right then and there. He can feel his self-control slipping, can feel the primal need to devour you taking over, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how badly he wants you, how desperately he needs to feel more of you.

When you pull back, your lips are swollen and glistening, your breathing just as ragged as his. You stare at him, your eyes dark with lust, and Rafe feels his heart hammering in his chest, each beat echoing with the desire pulsing through him.

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

Rafe’s hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. When he reaches the curve of your ass, he doesn’t stop. His fingers grip you there, kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pressing against his.

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

His hands are everywhere, sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before moving back down to cup your ass again, pulling you even closer against him. You can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh, and it sends a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You want him—more than you ever wanted anyone—and the way he’s looking at you tells you he feels the same.

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on. 

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His reaction is immediate. He groans, a sound so deep and full of need that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands flex against you, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he’s trying not to loseg control completely.

 But you can feel it—the way he’s trembling, the way his breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants against your neck. He kisses you again, hard and desperate, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that matches the wild pounding of your heart

But just when you think you can’t take it any longer, the sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, snapping you both back to reality. You pull back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, your mind spinning with the intensity of what had just happened. He’s just staring at you, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips swollen and red from your kisses. He looks as wrecked as you feel, and it takes everything in you not to drag him back down for more. 

But you know you shouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Except there’s no fucking way Rafe is letting you go now. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and filled with a raw need that makes your breath catch. 

He doesn’t ask; doesn’t need to. He’s done waiting, done pretending he can hold back. 

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

He presses you up against the cold tile wall, his body flushes against yours as his lips find yours again, hands running over your wet skin. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone as he kisses, licks, and nips at your sensitive skin. You whimper, fingers threading through his hair as he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing down your stomach. 

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the hot water and his hot mouth on your skin driving you insane. "If you don’t-" your voice trembles with need as he spreads your thighs apart, “Fuck.” 

He looks up at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

His hands grip your hips firmly. Without another word, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sudden, intense pleasure makes you cry out, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you gasping for breath. It’s not fair. 

This man can’t possibly be real. The water splashes against your back, masking the sounds of your moans as he takes his time, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue. Your body trembles, your legs barely able to hold you up as he pushes you higher, his hands tightening on your hips as he holds you in place.

 "Oh my god," you moan, your voice breaking as you feel the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until you are crying out his name, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure rips through you.

Rafe keeps his mouth on you, drawing out your release until you are trembling, your legs shaking as you struggle to catch your breath. 

Truth is, he doesn’t want to stop. He can’t get enough now that he has finally gotten a taste. He stands back up, his hands running up your sides as he kisses you again, the taste of you still on his lips. You can feel him, hard and ready against your stomach, and it only drives you crazier. Of course, this man had to be fucking huge. 

Without breaking the kiss, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall as his hands grip your hips, pulling them back slightly. You brace yourself against the tile, your body arching as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. 

"Oh Rafe," you groan out his name, your voice low and needy and he growls softly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he slowly pushes inside you, filling you inch by inch until he is buried to the hilt.

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world. 

“So fucking pretty.” The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, is almost too much to bear, and you let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drives you wild. The water cascades over your bodies as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. 

Each thrust pushes you harder against the wall, the cool tile a pleasing contrast to the heat between you. You can barely think, barely breathe, lost in the sensation of Rafe moving inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots with every thrust. The sound of the water mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to consume you.

 "God, you feel so fucking good," He groans, his voice rough with desire as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

 "Faster," you gasp, your voice pleading as you push back against him, needing more, needing everything. He doesn’t hesitate. His pace quickening, his thrusts coming harder and faster as he drives you both toward the edge. The intensity of it is overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he fucks you with a raw, desperate need that matches your own. Just when you think you couldn’t take any more, you heard footsteps outside the shower, followed by a voice calling out. 

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged. 

"Yeah, I’m here," he calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, though you could hear the strain in it. 

"We’re heading downtown to the bar. You coming?"

He looks down at you, all too pleased with himself, "Not tonight," he replies, his voice thick with lust. "Got something else to take care of." 

There’s a pause, then a chuckle from the other side of the door. "Alright, man. Have fun."

 The footsteps retreat, and the moment the door closes, he’s moving again, thrusting into you with a renewed urgency, the near-interruption only heightening the intensity of the moment. You moan loudly, your body quaking as he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending you spiraling closer and closer to another orgasm.

The combination of the heat, the steam, the feel of Rafe fucking you so hard is too much, the almost getting caught. You feel yourself losing it, your entire body tightening as you reach the edge once again.

 "Come for me," He growls, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow. His words push you over, and you cry out as your orgasm tears through you, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure crashes over you in waves.

Rafe follows right behind you, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he comes, his body shuddering as he fills you to the brim with a low, guttural groan. 

For a long moment, neither of you move, both of you panting, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. The water continues to pour over you, washing away the evidence of your encounter as you slowly come down from the high. 

Finally, he pulls out, turning you around to face him as he cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss that’s so different to the rough, desperate way he just fucked you.

 "You’re a fucking idiot," you whisper against his lips, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. 

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you with a mixture of affection and desire. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

He was fighting every fucking player on that ice ring if it meant having you again.

[brit-no]

With the news about DnD getting Worse I’m begging you all to at least try Masks

[hhughes]

Jack keeps an elastic around his wrist for AT!reader bc she always forgets hers when she's behind the bench

you sigh in annoyance as a strand of hair falls in front of your eyes when you bend over to grab the tape you dropped. a couple of the guys glance at you when you blow the hair out of your eyes, your frustration visible.

“you okay doc?” nico asks, the doting captain always noticing whenever anyone seems a little bit off even if he was still trying to catch his breath from his last shift.

you try not to roll your eyes at the “doc” title he refers to you at, probably picking it up from Jack, as most of the guys have by now. although you had to admit, it was slightly more endearing with his Swiss German accent and Bambi eyes.

“I’m fine Neeks,” you wave the captain off, not wanting to make a big deal of something so insignificant.

“what’s got you huffing and puffing back there then? trying to blow our house down?” curtis jokes and a couple of the surrounding players chuckle as you flick him on the side of his helmet.

you turn your attention back to the ice, hoping the guys would do the same as most of their focus was on you and commotion that was being caused.

“what’s going on?” jack asks softly, leaning back slightly and glancing at you.

“doc has a problem,” jesper says and jack immediately frowns, looking you up and down, twice, before meeting your gaze

“what’s wrong?” he asks, turning his body a full 180 to talk to you and you get the urge to laugh over how many people are going to be speculating that he’s harboring an injury just because he’s talking to you on the bench right now.

“nothing,” you insist and he just tilts his head slightly, making a move as to reach for you but he retracts his hand when he remembers where he is and sees the fans behind the glass trying to get his attention.

“what’s wrong?” he asks again, tone making it clear he’s not taking your obvious lie as an answer and when you see the assistant coach glance at the two of you, you do the only thing that’s gonna make Jack stop asking.

“my hair is annoying me. I forgot my hair tie,” you explain and Jack’s lips immediately tilt up as he holds his wrist out, his chest fluttering at the sweet smile you send him in thanks when you grab it and tie your hair back.

“why do you have a hair tie?” curtis asks, and you shuffle from one foot to the other when you realize most of the guys are still focused on your conversation than the game.

“him and Nico braid each other’s hair during intermission. you haven’t noticed it? s’real cute,” you say, failing to keep the humor out of your voice and the guys laugh, while nico and jack just send you little glares.

when the next line jumps onto the ice for their shift, jack ends up right in front of you as the guys shuffle around and you put a hand on his right shoulder, bending down to whisper a soft “thank you” in his ear and you ignore the butterflies going crazy in your stomach as he turns his head to meet your gaze, sends you that signature jack grin and mumbles a “you’re welcome,”

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations from real life 🪷🪷🪷

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

A few in my mailbox asked me to post about astrology playing out in real life. I still have to preface that the view is mostly based from the viewpoint of my own individual Natal chart. So it’s coming from a perspective of Taurus Sun, Aries Moon, Scorpio Rising.

🪷 For me 8th house Synastry with Cancer or Taurus, Libra over the 8th house is not the usual “love or hate connection” at all. So this is one thing I definitely didn’t relate. I think love hate dynamic could be perhaps more prominent if you have a malefic, Capricorn, Aquarius etc. over the 8th house. So I have Cancer over the 8th house. And best I could describe 8th house Synastry with Cancer placements is “failed attempts”. I really like them, but nothing ever gets of the ground with them. I had already someone’s Cancer Sun and Mercury in my 8th house and another person’s Cancer Sun, Venus, Mercury and Mars in my Cancer 8th house. Each Cancer was completely different, but there was usually a pattern I noticed, that after 3 years of knowing them, there is usually a breaking point and it’s always after 3 years. They either rejected me, friendzoned me or weren’t looking to enter a committed partnership. So technically, on paper is nothing particularly wrong in the 8th house Synastry, just stagnant and not much happening and the connection just never got of the ground to begin with. So that’s why I don’t really understand the 8th house love or hate thing. I would say we are pretty neutral toward one another and don’t hate each other, but aren’t in love either.

🪷 Aquarius Moon can end up being quite narrow-minded in a way that they have hard time fully accepting the other’s perspective, but only their own. That’s why sometimes having a conversation with them, doesn’t feel like a dialogue, but more so like they are in a monologue with themselves. Some can end up being quite preachy, because of that.

🪷 In my experience Taurus Moons, natives with Taurus IC are some of the most secure individuals. Because they have the needed self-love and most that I have met don’t even feel the need to start a partnership, just because they are just so comfortable on their own.

🪷 Pisces Moon can either be incredibly intuitive, compassionate or really mean “in the name of the truth”. But I feel like you have to know them for years, before it really becomes apparent how blunt, truthful and sometimes mean they actually are. They can kind of be unhealthy towards themselves by not believing they are capable. But also have the ability to negatively influence others with their negative mood as well. They are really observant and good listeners, therefore often times they choose words that know will sting you.

🪷 I noticed that stereotypically labelled as “players” when grown up, Aries Moon men, even Moon aspect Mars natives, appear that way only in adulthood. But what I found, that in childhood/teenage years they were often ignored by women or didn’t receive much romantic attention at all. They were rarely picked or chosen. So later they seem to quite enjoy the attention. I’d say maybe it’s the same for Aries Moon women? I don’t know, but Selena Gomez (Aries Moon) did talk about how boys were never interested in her when she way much younger, that she didn’t receive much romantic attention.

🪷 Libra Chiron people have strange behaviour. They still pursue people who rejected them and fall even deeper in love. Like what?? You guys deserve reciprocal love and not this one-sided thing.

🪷 Scorpio Rising, Pluto in the 1st house native is really one of the realest people you meet out there. They become so open and honest about life with time and in adulthood. They are not pretentious at all and I noticed they even don’t mind if they embarrass themselves a bit, as long as they are being authentic and living their own truth and purpose. A lot of them also went through a major breakthrough in life (dropped out of education, lost an important job etc.) and that launched them in a totally new life direction, career path, where they end up being successful then. They are very artistic, even though they appear logical, excellent problem solvers too.

🪷 Natives with Moon at a Leo degree (5, 17, 29) low key are Cancer Suns. I noticed you have troubled love life, because you get taken advantage of your kindness and you are genuinely so nice. I wouldn’t say this rings true too for Leo Moons or Moon in the 5th house natives (you more so attract rather selfish people).

🪷 Libra Moons probably rarely saw the conflict resolution between parents, so many of them are so conflict avoidant (are even scared to have tension) in a partnership, because deep down they didn’t really learn conflict resolution and don’t know how to solve it.

🪷 Cancer Moon men desire a wife, a housemaker, a best friend, a lover, a wifey in one person. They often secretly wish for a very traditional marriage. But to be fair, they probably had parents that were married for years or married couple goals, so they had role models and want the same for themselves.

🪷 A lot of Scorpio Risings or Pluto in the 1st house native have this idealisation with wealth going on. A lot of them dream of extreme wealth and are very money, financial stability oriented.

🪷 You really get along with someone who has their Rising sign in the same sign of your 11th house. For example: you have Scorpio over the 11th house, you could have a good chance to get along with Scorpio Risings.

🪷 Libra Chiron don’t find themselves attractive. But y’all are models for real. So so many people find you very conventionally attractive.

🪷 Aquarius Eros people can have a tendency to be so random. And you guys love love surprising others. Just not the other way. 😂 You dislike surprises. But I don’t find the stereotypes of being into “group sex, threesomes, kinky af” true at all. Most of them are oddballs with specific humour and often postpone intimacy, because they prefer touching people with their words. They really like hangouts and long talks over physical intimacy or touching. A lot of them also don’t understand why people rush intimacy so much. They like to take their time. However, they are into connection with people that has proved time. The longer they have known you, the more they are likely to consider you an intimate option. They really like people that stick with them or have been in their life for years.

🪷 Pisces Descendants doesn’t come across to me as delusional. Instead quite controlling towards the actions of their partner. They are idealistic about love and want their partner to act accordingly with their wishes. So they get “their way” by presenting themselves as a hopeless romantic.

🪷 Cancer Moon, Moon in the 4th house both men and women often feel like they can’t protect or defend themselves in the world. So they are often attracted to “protector” type of partner. However, the potential downfall of not learning how to protect themselves is falling into a parent child dynamic with their partner (with Cancer Moon, Moon in the 4th house native acting as a child).

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

[yoichiris]

better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader

✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication

"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."

you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.

"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.

you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.

"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"

you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."

"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."

"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.

"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.

you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.

of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.

"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"

he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.

"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.

he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.

it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.

you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.

it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.

"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.

your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.

"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"

"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.

he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.

"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.

you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.

"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."

"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?

you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.

it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.

"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?

reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"

and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.

"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."

reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."

"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.

"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"

you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.

you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.

"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.

you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.

there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.

"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."

it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."

well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.

you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.

"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.

he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.

you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.

"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."

"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.

you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.

he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.

it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.

waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.

it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.

you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.

"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."

you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."

he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.

"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.

traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."

"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.

there's another silence. what else can you say?

"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."

but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.

"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."

"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.

you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"

"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."

but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.

"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."

"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.

"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."

"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.

your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.

"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"

you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.

"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.

but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.

"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."

you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.

"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."

you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.

"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."

he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.

"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."

you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.

"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."

he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."

you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.

as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.

"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."

you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."

[mythalism]

having my regularly scheduled weekly freak-out over "whats the old dalish saying? may the dread wolf take you?" -> "and so he did." -> "i did not. i would not lay with you under false pretenses". i think i could literally unpack this for a thousand years and never be satisfied its so fucking insane. its so full of meaning. its so expertly written. its the kind of thing you'd only expect from fanfiction except its REAL.

the way he acts like he doesn't actually know the saying. but of course he knows the saying. of course he knows exactly how the dalish use his name and legacy as a curse of bad fortune. OF COURSE HE KNOWS THIS. we literally hear mihris say it to his face if you choose to attack her during his very first personal quest. the forced casualness of this line in such an otherwise tense and monumental moment of confrontation, "what's the old dalish saying?" with his sad little self-deprecating smile. its insane that he's saying this. its INSANE that he's bringing this up to her, RIGHT NOW OF ALL MOMENTS?? he's dropped the mask and he is so mortal, he's Chuckles making a wry, sarcastic comment, except its all wrong - because it's not funny and its not lighthearted and its not sarcastic, its carrying the weight of all of his lies and manipulation. how was he expecting her to respond????? certainly not how she does. his tone and face immediately changes when she says, "and so he did." her voice and face reflects the severity of the moment that he was trying to break with his levity, she denies him the break in tension he was trying to create.

"and so he did." "i did not. i would not lie with you under false pretenses". WHAT???????? WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way his thought process immediately goes to sex and interprets this as innuendo is I N S A N E. it is such a tone shift from the rest of the conversation to just throw this line out - but it's not out of character. he does make a few similar comments; "getting you into bed is an enjoyable side benefit" and "i do enjoy the heady blend of power and sex that permeates these events" and of course the first haven flirt that always make players go "HUH!? SOLAS FUCKS!??!!?" but this one is just so inappropriate in the context of this confrontation that it speaks to how FUCKED his mindset is in this moment. WHY ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT SEX RIGHT NOW??????????? its so interesting its SO INTERESTING. and the brilliance of the ambiguity of the line makes me go crazy. solas is unambiguously talking about sex. "i would not lie with you" is basically synonymous with "i would not have sex with you". which is especially bizarre because "may the dread wolf take you" isn't necessarily a sexual curse. it seems to be fairly equivalent to english's "fuck you". while "fuck" is a synonym for sex just like "take" is, its not only a synonym for sex. you can say "fuck you" to people and its not sexual, its just a rude curse. the dread wolf curse is used similarly, by mihris, by merrill, by other dalish throughout the series. it's never been explicitly sexual. but when he hears "and so he did" from lavellan's mouth he immediately takes it as sexual? WHAT? and its not necessarily a confirmation that they did have sex.

i know people get confused about this line but it does work with any player headcanon about the nature of the relationship. it can be interpreted as two ways. "i would not lie with you under false pretenses" can mean either "i did not lie with you because the pretenses under which it happened would have been false" or, "i did lie with you, but the pretenses under which i did so were not false, because i love you". it's less about the "did not lie with you" part and more about the "pretenses" part that allows for the ambiguity. are the pretenses he's referring to the lie about his identity? "i refused to lie with you without you knowing the truth about who i am"? or are the pretenses about whether or not he loved her, that "what they had was real" and that they lay together because he loved her, not because he was acting as the dread wolf to trick and manipulate her. lavellan could have meant "and so he did" both ways too. it could have been a "and so he did take me (sexually)" or "and so he did (trick me, betray me, lie to me, catch my scent like the curse implies), but honestly the sexual one doesn't make a lot of sense? the fen'harel myths are not explicitly sexual so there is no reason for her to interpret the curse she would have used and heard all her life in such a way. its really more him taking it in a way it is not intended, and thus revealing a sort of insecurity or at least a sticking point in his mind regarding their relationship, which is fascinating.

whether or not they were intimate is entirely up to the player because of the brilliance of the line, but what's canon in this conversation is his own anxiety about the ethics of sexual consent in their relationship coming to a head in this climactic moment of catharsis. he is so defensive. "I DID NOT." its the culmination and final acknowledgement of the push and pull, indulgence vs. restraint present in every scene of them together. he dives in, he pulls back. he can't help himself, but he can't give in. it would be kinder in the long run, but losing you would-. he's telling her how aware he was of the wrongness of what he did to her while simultaneously trying to defend himself. it shows how much this issue was truly on his mind the entire time, how much the guilt weighed on him to have him acting like this. id also probably argue this could factor into his spirit vs. physical struggles. he is bad at controlling himself physically in this context, even if he knows its wrong. he is off-kilter in this one area of physical intimacy, he is not as in control and composed as he should be. he knows it. he hates himself for it, so much so that he connects this situation to the curse that has been uttered about him for thousands of years with a sad, brittle little laugh. anyway if we get more lines like this in veilguard im so cooked

[romanticinlove]

misunderstanding

Summary: When Jude is banned because of his celebration, his anger gets the best of him

word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst

___________________________________

During the game against Slovakia, England was putting up a good fight. When the other team scores, it went unanswered for so long. As you watched the game from the stands, you felt very anxious. Your boyfriend, Jude, was playing and you knew he had a lot of pressure of him during this game. You were wondering how he was dealing with the weight of the game, and you worried for him. When the game clock showed the 90th minute, you could only hope that enough time was added for England to make a comeback. When England finally scored, it was Jude who scored. You jumped up in the stand celebrating along the other fans. You could not have been more proud of your boyfriend. It was only when you looked down at the pitch that you saw how Jude decided to celebrate. You didn't think much of it, other players had done this celebration many times before. Sure, you thought it might've been a bit crude but he was just celebrating, you couldn't blame him. When the game came to a close, you were celebrating, Harry Kane scored a goal in extra time that secured the win for England. When you went down to see Jude, you were so proud of him and could not wait to see him. When he left the locker room, you could see that he was upset about something.

"hey baby, I am so proud of you! You played amazingly tonight, I knew you would be the one to put us ahead" You said and went to kiss his cheek, but he simply turned his head. You were confused and continued "Is everything ok?"

"Can we just go?" Jude said, while he couldn't even look you in the eye. You were a bit hurt because of the way he was acting but decided to leave him cool off before trying to talk to him again. As you drove the both of you home, you would occasionally look over at Jude, who only looked out of the window. You dropped Jude off at the facility where the teams were staying. When he went to leave the car, you tried to talk to him again.

"Ok well I'll call you tonight ok? " You said to him hopeful that he would at least give you something.

"I can't call tonight" he said before opening the door, but before he could get off, you began again.

"That's ok, I'll talk to you later then. I love you"

"You too." Jude said and then he shut the door and walked off. You sat in the car for a couple of minutes, shocked at his behavior. The both of you always said I love you to one another. It sounded so stupid and cheesy, but it did hurt you. You began to drive to the hotel where you were staying. Before, the distance would've killed the both of you, but maybe now it was necessary. You tried to think about every possible thing that could've set him off. When you couldn't think of anything, you tried to brush it off. When you arrived at the hotel, you got ready for bed. Just when you were about to go to bed, you decided to text Jude.

you: Hey Jude, I don't know what happened tonight, but I just wanted to let you know that I am very proud of you, you did great. I love you, please text me back <3

Read at 10:47

When you woke up and saw that he left you on read, you got a bit upset. You genuinely had no idea what happened and you thought maybe it had something to do with you. You decided to try and text his teammate, Trent, and see if maybe he knew something.

You: hey Trent, Do you know what's wrong with Jude???

Trent: did he not tell you?

You: apparently not

trent: Y'know his celebration yesterday? He got a €30,000 fine, and a ban

you: are you serious??

Trent: unfortunately

You were very upset and immediately called Jude.

"Jude why didn't you tell me about the fine and ban??" you said as soon as he answered the phone

"Who told you about that?"

"it doesn't matter, why didn't you?"

"y/n I don't have to tell you every little thing that happens, stuff just happens"

"Not every little thing, but yeah things like that are important, especially when you get disrespectful with me"

"you still haven't answered my question"

"I told you it doesn't matter"

"who did you ask?" Jude said as he began to raise his voice a little. He was met with silence and then he spoke up again. "y/n, who told you about that?"

"I asked one of your teammates"

"Oh so instead of going to me, you go to another guy? How is that right?" Jude said in an accusatory tone. You didn't like what he was implying.

"What are you trying to say right now, you think I would cheat on you?"

"why did you have to go behind my back?"

"You were being cold and unresponsive, I was worried" you said. Jude scoffed not he other end and you began to get teary eyed "we're not accomplishing anything right now, ok. I will call you later when we're both a bit more calm."

"Yeah sure, maybe you can call my teammate and tell him about this" he said before hanging up the phone. You sat indoor hotel room, dumbfounded by this argument. How could he think that about you? You were beyond angry, but you couldn't think about why you were crying right then and there. But maybe he was right, maybe you should've texted Trent, maybe you should've waited for him to be ready. As all of these maybe's went though your head you got a text.

Jude: Honestly, I don't know what to do right now, I need space, I can't be focused on this and the euros, soju please leave me alone right now

you: Jude I will respect you space but please know that I would never do that to you, I promise

Jude: Ok

You: I love you

Read at 12:26

________________________________

a/n: This was my first attempt at angst so pls lmk what you think!!

[hunterwritings]

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨

request: "hi there! since you mentioned in your last post you enjoy writing domestic lin kuei trio, would you mind writing some more about them? either general headcanons or a drabble for each one, feel free to chose! also, love your writing 🩷" warnings: none, established relationship notes: i have rewritten this 3 times 😭| also can you tell i love writing touch starved bi-han

↳ 𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧 A sigh escaped your lips as you sat on your bed, an old book in your hand. The other hand was softly holding onto Bi-han's hair as he laid his head in your lap. The Grandmaster was tired and relaxed by lying in your lap and having his big arms wrap over your thighs. You smiled at the needy action, knowing that he would only do something like this behind closed doors. You hummed to the soft music coming from your vinyl player, it was always nice to have some background music on whenever you were going about your day. Bi-han felt as if he could lay here for eternity, as if all his stress would melt away as you played with his hair. He sat there for a while basking in the feeling, before he heard a familiar song playing on the vinyl. He sat up quickly, almost convincing you that something was wrong. He made his way over to the record player and started messing with the volume. "Oh, you turning off my music?" You chuckled, lying the book down in your lap. He didn't respond, instead, he actually turned the music volume up so that you could hear the song clearly. You knew this song. Bi-han knew this song. It was the song played on your wedding night. You had always assumed that Bi-han had forgotten or just chosen to move forward instead of dwell on the past. That is until he turns around to greet you with soft eyes. "You remember this?" You ask. "Of course." He bluntly responded.

A smile appears on your lips as you look up at him, who walks to the corner of the bed to grab ahold of your hand. He slowly pulls until you stand up, grabbing your other hand with his. He holds up both of your palms against his before slowly interlacing his fingers with your own. Dark brown eyes peer down at you before leaning in to press a sweet, meaningful kiss to your lips; his hands move from yours to hold onto your waist. Your hands reach up behind his head and hold onto it tightly as he kissed you with passion. This was almost shocking for Bi-han, you knew he could get needy from time to time, but this was more than just that. He pulls away from your lips to press his forehead against yours, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He reaches one of his cold hands up to hold your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. To your surprise, he began swaying as he held you. "Is this a dance?" You softly asked, not wanting to seem like you were laughing at him because you didn't want to diminish his feelings. He just hummed in response, you could feel the vibrations on his chest.

The two of you swayed there for a minute before Bi-han took a deep breath before speaking.

"There are some things I cannot say with words." He says and you swear you can hear his heart beat faster. You knew what he was trying to tell you, trying to tell you that he loves you without actually saying it. "You don't have to." You say pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes. "I know." You add with a soft smile that he returns, a rare site. You conceal the fact with a soft kiss to his lips once again.

↳ 𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

A strong smell of some sort of cooking filled the air as you walked into the temple. Your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered who could be cooking right now. You followed the smell to the kitchen of the the temple, to see Kuai Liang standing there, cooking some that smelled delicious.

"Kuai Liang?" You said with a surprised smile on your face. He turned around and his face instantly lit up the second he saw you, almost dropping the food he was holding. "My love." He breathes out before walking up to you and engulfing you in a warm embrace, practically lifting you up off the floor. You giggle at his actions as he pressed multiple kisses to your lips and neck. "What are you doing cooking dinner?" You ask. He turns around to see the food he was making and back to you with a smile on his face. "Well I knew you were going to be tired once you were done with your training, so I thought I'd give you a nice, warm meal." He explains, holding tightly onto your hips as he pulled your bodies closer together. "Oh Kuai Liang, I promised to cook for you tonight." You say as he shakes his head. "No, no please, I can already see that you are tired." He says. He wasn't wrong, you had been training for the most part of the day and you were tired, but you still would've cooked for him. "Well then I will help you finish making the meal." You add, trying to still adhere to your previous promise. "No need, it is already done. I thought to start it early so that you wouldn't have to wait for your meal." He smiles and you gaze at him with adoration. What could you have done to get such a perfect man?

"By the Elder Gods, how can you be so perfect?" You ask as you scan his facial features, taking in how every part of his face is perfectly sculpted. "Please, you are perfection incarnate. A goddess walking amongst us, all I can do is worship you." His words were almost like they were written by the gods themselves. He truly treated you as if you were an all-powerful deity and refused to accept any other treatment less than that. All you could do was shake your head with the largest smile on your face and warmness in your cheeks. You looked down, almost flustered by his words. He reached his hand underneath your chin and raised your head to face your eyes. A wide smile plastered on his face before he pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your lips, a much longer kiss than the ones before. This was a kiss full of passion, to show that he meant every word of previous statement. You knew that you were going to end up repaying him in the future, one way or the other.

↳ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

Your eyebrows tightly furrowed together and a sigh fell from your breath as you entered the living area of the temple. Stress had clouded your mind, you knew you had many things to get done and it seemed like you had no time. You knew it was irrational but it would still manage to bring you down, almost ruin your day completely. You pushed through the door to your shared bedroom and felt saddened when you noticed that Tomas was not there.

Your sadness was short-lived once you heard your name excitedly being called behind you. You turn to see Tomas standing in the doorway with a large smile on his lips. "Oh, Tomas." Relief fills your voice as you rush up to him and engulf him in a hug, almost pouring your bodyweight into his arms completely. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you." You speak into his chest as he wraps his arms around you and tightly squeezes. "I'm sure the feeling is mutual." He laughs. You also knew how much Tomas missed you during the day, he was practically attached at the hip to you.

"I am exhausted." You say as you look up to him. "Can we please rest early?" He smiles at your request, holding one of his hands at the back of your head.

"Of course, but first I have something for you. A gift." He says as you raise and eyebrow to him. "It's nothing spectacular of course, but just something I thought you'd appreciate." He explains, almost stumbling over his words. Most of the time you would probably ask to wait for the morning, but his puppy dog eyes could lure you anywhere, so you agreed. Tomas walked you out of the bedroom with his hands over yours eyes. He walked slow to ensure that you wouldn't trip or run into anything. "Okay, stop right here." He says as you stop in your tracks. "Now, look!" He excitedly says before removing his hands from your eyes to reveal a large bouquet of flowers sitting on the table and small little boxes of cookies and sweets. One of your hands reaches up to cover your mouth and you could feel small tears of happiness prick at your eyes. "Tomas!" You exclaim before turning back to him and jumping into his arms. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and swayed you in a circle before setting you back down, still engulfed by his arms. "I know it is not uncommon or something magnificent, but I saw how stressed you seemed this morning and thought that you deserved something nice. Something to show you how much I adore you." He explains as he notices your glossy eyes, reaching his thumbs under your cheeks as he held your face between his hands. "It means more than you know." You tell him sincerely as his eyes light up. He leans in to embrace your lips in a sweet kiss and pulls your body closer into his. "I love you entirely (Y/N)." He softly speaks, inches away from your lips. "As I love you, Tomas." You reciprocate before leaning back into his sweet lips.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arguments II

Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first argument

You weren't really one to argue.

You didn't enjoy confrontations. You didn't like yelling.

But you knew this was where it was heading.

Talia stewed in the driver's seat all the way home, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

This wasn't how you wanted her to find out.

You had been lucky, you think. You and Talia didn't argue. You had disagreements over silly things over when to feed the pets and whose turn it was to do the laundry.

But you knew, just by looking at the way Talia's jaw clenched that this was heading toward an argument.

You prepare yourself.

It happens almost as soon as the apartment door is closed.

"Lyon?!" She demands," Really, Lyon?!"

It wasn't the best way for Talia to find out, you can admit that. It wasn't that you were trying to keep it a secret. It was that you were told not to talk about it while the details were worked out.

You sigh. "I'm sorry but-"

"I thought you were happy here!" Talia interrupts," At Barcelona. In Spain. With me!"

"I am!"

"You're leaving!" Talia yells," You're leaving!"

"I'm not!" You snap back, hands clenching into fists as you dig your nails into your palm.

Talia scoffs. "Oh, forgive me if I'm wrong but Lyon is in France, yes?! So, yeah, y/n, you're leaving!"

"You're blowing this out of proportion!" You stand chest to chest with her.

You're practically the same height as her now so you're both yelling straight in each other's face.

(You have to concentrate as to not connect your lips to hers because it's unfair just how attractive she is while yelling).

The loan to Lyon had come out of nowhere, as was most emergency loans. It was a string of bad luck for the French team, their keepers dropping like flies until all that was left was two academy players who had never played for the senior team.

You, on the other hand, were twenty-one years old already with six years experience and a world cup win under your belt. You were a proven winner and Lyon were willing to throw an extortionate amount of money at Barcelona to get you on loan.

They offered you bonuses that was bordering on more zeros at the end of a number than you'd ever seen.

Lyon had been knocking on the door when your agent let clubs know you were leaving Arsenal. It had been a toss up between them and Barcelona.

But you chose Barcelona and they still kept knocking.

You agreed to the loan though, if only to get experience in a different league.

"If you want to leave," Talia yells," Then there's the door!"

"Oh, yeah? Well maybe I will!"

"Go on then!"

"Fine!

"Fine!"

You whistle as you make it to the door, crouching down to clip on Prins' leash before storming out into the hallway.

You choose to take the stairs instead of the elevator, working out some of your frustration on the way.

Prins' leash gets clipped onto your belt loop and you take off on a controlled jog around the neighbourhood.

Talia calls you.

You ignore it.

She call you again.

You don't want to continue this argument.

You turn off your phone.

You keep jogging, your feet pounding onto the pavement.

Prins runs next to you happily. He's always been able to keep up on your morning runs and a random afternoon run doesn't seem to faze him either.

Your mind runs just like your feet as you overthink all of your little interactions in the argument earlier. You wonder, briefly, if this means you and Talia have broken up now.

You hope not.

You're not sure how you would cope if Talia broke up with you over this.

Your running slows to a walk as you make your way to the beach. You sit on the sand and just stare out across the sea.

Prins whines a little bit, stamping his feet on the ground.

"Sorry," You say, unclipping his leash so he can run," There you go."

He doesn't though. He just whines a bit more, shuffling closer until his snout is pressed up against your face.

You smile.

"Thanks, Prins," You say, tearfully," You're a good boy."

His tail wags happily.

"He is a good boy."

You nearly burst into tears are hearing a familiar voice behind you.

"Hi, Alexia."

"Hi."

She sits down next to you and you bury your face in Prins' fur, not wanting her to see you cry.

"Nat's worried," Alexia says," She's calling everyone to see where you've gone."

"I turned off my phone. I didn't want to argue anymore."

Alexia frowns. "You argued with each other? That doesn't sound right."

"She was very angry," You whisper, turning on your phone in your pocket.

Alexia can just hear you over the roar of the sea. You've still got your head buried against Prins so your words are muffled.

"She's not angry anymore," Alexia says," She's very, very worried. You've been gone for nearly two hours."

That doesn't sound right, you think but when you fish out your phone, Alexia's right.

You've been running for nearly two hours since the argument.

"Oh."

Alexia chuckles. "Yeah, oh. You've had people looking for you. I think Nat even called your parents."

"I didn't want her to worry. I just wanted to stop arguing," You mumble.

"That's okay," Alexia assures you," But maybe you should shoot her a text telling her where you are so she doesn't worry anymore, huh?"

"Okay."

You text Talia your whereabouts.

There's silence for a long while between you both, nothing but the ocean and occasionally Prins shuffling around to get comfortable.

The sun is setting when Alexia speaks again.

"What were you arguing about?"

"I'm moving to Lyon," You say and Alexia jolts.

"What?" She asks in disbelief," Why? Does Barcelona not make you happy anymore?"

You give her an odd look. "No, it does, but staying out for one season wouldn't do any harm. Lyon has no keepers. Barcelona has two others plus that La Masia girl."

"The one that's always following you around?"

"I think it's sweet. She's good." You shrug. "I'll be back next year anyway."

"Wait..." Alexia blinks a few times. "What do you mean you'll be back next year?"

"It's only a loan," You reply," They're..." Your face goes red. "Lyon's offering the club a lot plus a bonus for me." You're sure that you resemble a tomato right now. "It's a lot of money. Enough to pay for a house in cash. Talia mentioned about maybe finding a place for ourselves."

"You want to buy Nat a house?"

"Well, I want to buy us a house." You frown. "Sorry...is it too early in a relationship to consider that? My Morsa said she was envisioning a house with Momma within the first month."

"No!" Alexia assures you," It's sweet. You're sweet, y/n, but I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding."

You turn to look at her. "A misunderstanding? Over what?"

She doesn't get to answer because a body crashes into you and a phone is shoved into your face.

"I found her!" Talia exclaims," I've got her! I've got her!"

On the phone screen is your mothers, both pressed up against each other as they stare.

"Don't do that!" Morsa immediately jumps into a lecture. "Do you know how worried we were?! We called you so many times! We thought you were dead in a ditch!"

"I had Prins with me." It's a weak defence and you know it but you have to at least try. "He wouldn't let anything happen to me."

"Princesse, I love you but your dog is as dumb as a pile of bricks," Morsa says," But I'm glad you're okay."

"You can go to France," Talia says quickly," Not that you need my permission but if you want to go then go. I'm sorry that I yelled. If you want to leave Barcelona then go but-"

"Leave?" You repeat," I'm not leaving. I'm just going on loan."

If you weren't still a little worried about Talia breaking up with you then you'd find the shocked look on her face comical.

"What?"

"It's just a loan," You say," I...erm...They're willing to give me a lot of money for it. I thought, maybe, we could use it to get a house."

"I...You...We...You want to get a house with me?"

"I mean...er, if you want that too. I know that-"

You don't get to finish because Talia drops her phone to pull you into a kiss.

"Yes, I want to get a house with you."

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part iii (final)

warnings: angst; smut; word count: 6.3k (sorry)

what the fuck. 

as soon as the words left his mouth, you wondered how many hits to the head soccer players got each match, because there was no way in hell rafe cameron was in love with you.

suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, you stood up, almost falling off his bed in the process.

in a frantic scramble, you reached for your clothes, tugging on your jersey inside out and hopping around on one foot trying to pull up your shorts.

"what's wrong with you?! we just had sex!"

rafe blinked, still dazed from your anything but innocent activities.

“uh, yeah, that's kind of when these feelings hit me.”

you paused, one leg in your levis shorts, the other still “bare”, and shot him a look. 

 "you don't just drop the l-word after sex! are you insane!" you managed to get your shorts up and fastened, albeit a bit crookedly, “jesus christ.”

“i didn’t mean to freak you out, it just came—"

“yeah, well, maybe lead with something less dramatic” you snorted, tugging your shirt the right way around. "i mean, who does that?"

he laughed, the sound rich and warm, and for a moment you were torn between being annoyed and charmed, “i’m sorry. i meant it tho.”

“no, you didn’t.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you fumbled with your shoelaces.

“i did,” he insisted, his voice earnest, but you were too busy wrestling with your stubborn converse to look up.

“you don't even know me."

"course i do," he looked offended, like you insulted him, "your birthday is on october 8th, and your favorite color is blue. your favorite food is picanha and kimchi ramyeon. you do this thing when you're happy where you just speak really loud, all the time and when your favorite song comes on, which is all of them really, you always squeal—"

you think you lost at least three brain cells as you stood there, jaw dropped to the floor, listening to him list all the things he knew about you.

correctly.

"y’know what sherlock?” you said suddenly, standing up, finally fully dressed but still feeling exposed. “i need some air. a lot of it.”

“what?”

“i’m leaving.”

“wait—" you hear the sound of sheets ruffling, “wait a sec—dammit!”

you didn't look back as you hurried out of his room, the sounds of the frat party thumping from downstairs, music seeping through the walls. the hallway was packed with people, and you pushed your way through the crowd, your mind racing. oh my god. everyone was seeing you leave rafe cameron’s room in a hurry. there was no way in hell you’d have a peaceful week after this.

you were almost reaching the door when you felt a hand grab your upper arm. you turned around to see rafe, now dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, “can we talk about this?”

the music was deafening, forcing you to practically scream to be heard. “what part of 'too much' don’t you get?”

“why?” he asked, his voice barely cutting through the noise. “why does it have to be too much?”

“because it is!” you shouted, then softened your tone just enough to be less harsh, “just let it go.”

he let go of your arm, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “’m not asking you to say it back, okay?”

you felt the weight of curious eyes on you. the partygoers’ stares only made you want to leave even more. desperation clawed at your chest.

rafe closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly, “did that really feel like only sex to you?”

you bit your lip, the regret hitting you immediately, but you couldn't stop now. you needed to get out.

“yeah.” you replied, even though your heart screamed at you to take it back.

he stepped back, letting go of your arm completely. “fine. go on then," he said, his tone flat and lifeless. “just go.”

“i’m sorry—" you started again, but rafe's expression hardened. he’d never looked at you like that and you hated every single second of it.

he stepped back further, creating a physical distance, as if to save himself the hurt, “leave.”

you didn’t have to be told twice, you wanted to be anywhere but there. you couldn't delete the image of his face when you rejected him from your brain. 

as soon as you were outisde, you pulled out your phone, and dialed pope's number. he picked up on the third ring, his voice laced with excitement.

"the dick was that bad? i could've sworn—”

tears were already threatening to fall as you tried to steady your voice. "pope, can you... can you pick me up?"

“huh?”

"i just... i need to get out of here," you managed, voice cracking as you wrapped an arm around yourself, feeling strangely exposed.

"shit. okay. i'll be there in ten minutes.”

you found a quiet spot near the edge of the campus, too embarrassed to sit outside rafe’s frathouse with so many people coming and going. leaning against a tree, you sank down, hugging your knees to your chest.

what the hell were you doing? had you just permanently ruined your friendship with rafe? let your little mommy issues get ahead of you?

when pope finally pulled up in his car, you climbed in wordlessly, unable to meet his eyes. 

“what did he do? you want me to punch him? cause y’know i’ll call jj and we—"

you leaned your head against the cool glass of the car window, “this was such a fucking bad idea.”

he glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road, “what? why?”

“because.”

pope's brow furrowed in confusion. "what did he say?"

"that he loved me.”

“what the fuck?!" your body jolted forward, your heart racing from the sudden stop. the motherfucker accidentally slammed the brakes.

“pope, what the hell?”

“my bad, fuck,” he muttered, regaining control of the car and easing back onto the road, “he dropped that shit on you?”

“yeah.”

“okay, that’s kinda fucked, but—“ pope glanced at you again, concern etched on his face. “look, cameron might be a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. man, he’s the complete opposite if you ask me. too fucking honest for his own good.”

“he picked the worst time to be honest,” you muttered, wiping away a tear, “i literally had his dick in my hands!”

“dude!” pope faux-gagged, “i don’t need the details, jesus.”

“sorry,” you said, half-laughing through your tears. “it’s just... how can he love me? he doesn’t even know me! that’s what’s pissing me off the most.”

that was a lie.

pope sighed, shaking his head. “i don’t know, but it sounds like he’s really into you. you spent a lot of time together, right? maybe he knows you better than you think.”

he does.

“don’t get smart on me pope howard. i need your support right now, not this sentimentalist bullshit.”

pope chuckled, “you’ve got to talk to him. y’know that, right?”

you groaned, lifting the palms of your hands to your eyes, “why?”

“because you care about him, you dumbass. that’s fucking obvious.”

“stop making sense,” you mumbled, sighing heavily. “i need you to be angry with me, pope.”

he shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "i'm your best friend. my job is to tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.”

you slumped further into your seat, “this is your fault anyway. you planted the stupid idea in my brain.”

“me? this is all you.”

your mouth dropped, “be fucking serious. you told me to sleep with him! for sports!”

“yeah, okay, i’ll take the blame but…”

“but?” you narrowed your eyes in warning, “but what?”

he shrugged innocently, “you never listened to me up to that point. i didn’t think you’d do it. that’s gotta mean something.”

“stop making me think,” you muttered under your breath, letting your head fall back against the seat. “i just want to forget this whole night happened.”

“maybe you just need some time to figure out how you feel.”

“i don’t feel anything,” you lied, staring out the window at the passing lights. “he’s just rafe cameron.”

pope sighed again, the kind of sigh that said he didn’t believe you for a second. “whatever you say."”

he dropped you off at your dorm, waiting until you were inside before driving away. you made your way to your room, collapsing onto your bed. why did you feel like such a terrible person?

you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts, stopping at rafe’s name. your thumb hovered over the call button before you shook your head, tossing the phone aside.

you needed time. time to think, time to breathe, and time to figure out what the hell you wanted.

the next morning, you woke up with a headache and a sense of unease that settled deep in your chest. you dragged yourself out of bed. pope had texted you, a simple “hope you’re okay <3” that made you smile despite everything. you quickly replied, assuring him you were fine, even if you didn’t fully believe it.

you weren’t.

not when your first class of the day was with rafe. but you could do it.

you walked into class just in time, like you always did, only this time you were dreading the inevitable awkwardness of being sat next to rafe.

you hadn’t thought this through. he usually got here before you, real heavy on being on time for everything he did. you tried to keep your eyes locked on the professor, who was gathering the material for class, but you still took small peeks towards the door, expecting to see him stroll in at any given moment.

except he never did. as the lecture progressed, he never showed up. 

when the professor eventually asked about his whereabouts, kelce, his friend who sat a few rows behind you, raised his hand casually.

“rafe’s not feeling well today,” kelce spoke up, his tone nonchalant. he glanced over at you briefly, a knowing look in his eyes that made your stomach twist. 

oh great, so now you were the witch of the wicked west to all his friends. 

the professor nodded sympathetically. “alright, thank you for letting me know, kelce. make sure he gets the notes from today’s lecture.”

kelce nodded in acknowledgment, and the class moved on, but your mind was racing. rafe skipping class wasn’t like him. the timing felt deliberate, almost as if he was avoiding you after last night. 

as the lecture continued, you realized rafe wouldn’t be the only one needing notes. all you’d done for two hours was scramble down a few words, none of them making any sense. you struggled to focus on the material. every glance towards the door was met with disappointment.

maybe this was serious. maybe he hated you now.

after what felt like an eternity, the class finally ended. packing up your things, you hesitated before deciding to approach kelce, who lingered near his seat. you’d only spoken to him a handful of times, mainly when you and rafe studied back at the frat house.

kelce was nice. but the look he was giving you now, was anything but.

"hey, kelce," you began, trying to sound casual.

"hey," kelce replied cautiously, eyeing you up and down. 

you swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.

"um, is rafe okay? is he sick?”

he nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering, “the flu. got it last night."

"l-last night?” 

“yup.”

“oh.”

kelce's brows furrowed slightly, “look, i don’t know what happened. but, he’s…not doing okay.”

your stomach sank. it was clear rafe was avoiding you, and the guilt gnawed at you even more. "i just... i didn't mean to..."

kelce cut you off gently, his voice softening. "that’s none of my business.”

"yeah," you murmured, feeling utterly inadequate.

"he'll come around," kelce reassured you, though his tone lacked conviction.

you nodded dumbly, unsure of what else to say. part of you wanted to apologize again, but...you’d done nothing wrong. there was no need to explain yourself.

"thanks," you managed weakly, offering a half-hearted smile.

kelce nodded in response, his expression remaining neutral. with that, you turned and hurried out of the classroom, feeling the weight of kelce's gaze on your back. the hallways felt suffocating, with whispered conversations and curious glances that only amplified your discomfort. did everyone know? was there a journal column telling everyone who got laid last night? fucking hell.

back in your dorm room, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. this was worse than what you’d expected. you couldn't stop seeing the image of rafe's hurt expression, his quiet insistence that he meant what he said.

your phone buzzed beside you, and you hesitated before picking it up, sighing in realief when you saw it was a text from pope.

"baaaabeeee, how did it go?"

did he really want to know the mess you'd made of things?

after a moment's hesitation, you replied with a simple, "not great. think everyone hates me lol"

pope's response was almost immediate. “shit. you wanna to talk about it?"

you bit your lip, undecided between wanting to unload everything and wanting to bury it all deep down. in the end, you settled for a brief reply. “later."

that went on for a week and three days.

you avoided rafe’s usual hangouts, keeping your head down and focusing on your classes. you still hadn’t seen him, and it was starting to drive you crazy. you needed to talk to him, but you were scared. like, shitless scared, of what he’d say, scared of what you’d feel.

it was hours later when you finally saw him again. you were in the library, buried in your notes, the ones who’d stolen from pope because you hadn’t been able to focus properly in any class and you hated that you’d let a boy have so much control over your brain, let alone a jock.

when you looked up and saw him standing at the entrance. he looked a little too good. the typical shorts hitting just above his knees, a loose sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscles way too much for your sanity, and his hair peeking out from under a snapback. 

good enough to eat.

he spotted you almost immediately and then quickly turned his head to side, ignoring you. 

ouch. okay, fair enough all things considered.

your heart skipped a beat. it was now or never. for a moment, you considered hiding, but you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. taking a deep breath, you stood up and made your way over to him.

“hey,” you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to sound as casual as possible.

rafe looked up for a second, then returned his attention to the phone in his hands, “hey.”

“can we talk?” you asked.

he shrugged, and it took everything in you not to punch him in the face. “sure.”

you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “sorry about the other night. i-i didn’t handle it well.”

he nodded, but his gaze remained on his phone, fingers typing away. “yeah, i get it.”

you frowned, sensing that something was off. he’d never ignored you before, he wasn’t even giving you the dignity of looking at you as you spoke to him. 

“are you okay?”

“fine,” he replied curtly.

before you could ask him what the fuck is problem was now, a girl approached, her smile bright, almost blinding you. she was ridiculously pretty, with long braided hair and sparkling brown eyes.

a literal doll.

she looked between you and rafe, “hi, are you ready to go?”

your heart sank as the girl slipped her arm around rafe’s arm and he finally put his stupid phone away and smiled down at her.

heavy on the ouch.

“yeah, let’s go,” rafe said, his voice softening, but then he turned to you, his expression blank again, “see you around.”

you stood there, watching them walk away feeling like a complete fucking idiot. like you were being pranked. what the hell was that? was he trying to make you jealous? or was he moving on that quickly? was there even something to move on from?

you returned to your seat, barely registering the world around you.

is that what he meant by telling you he loved you? you’ve been feeling bad over a boy who clearly only said what he said because you fucked him too good? wow.

you tried to focus on your notes, but your hands were trembling. without realizing it, you started tearing at the pages, ripping them apart. by the time you looked down, half of your notes were in shreds, scattered across the table.

“dammit,” you hissed under your breath. you gathered the torn pieces, stuffing them into your bag. there was no salvaging them now. 

with a frustrated sigh, you pulled out your phone and dialed pope’s number. 

“what’s up?”

“i need to get fucked up tonight.” you said bluntly, not bothering to hide the frustration you were feeling. 

“buy a guy a drink first?”

you could hear him snicker at his own joke, “shut up. are there any parties?”

“yeah, heard there's a big one at the delta house. everyone’s going.”

“okay. we’re going too.”

pope sighed, “i don’t remember signing up for this.”

“shut up and pick me up at 9.”

you decided that tonight was the night to go all out. no more hiding, no more feeling sorry for yourself. you rummaged through your closet, tossing aside clothes that were too plain, too boring, or just not the vibe you were going for. 

finally, you found it—the perfect outfit, and possibly the sluttiest thing you proudly owned.

you slipped into a sleek, black leather mini skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, hitting just the right spot on your thighs. you paired it with a cropped, red satin top that showed just enough skin to be daring but not over the top. the top had a deep v-neckline, accentuating your collarbones and drawing attention to the delicate gold necklace you wore. the outfit was completed with a pair of knee-high black boots, giving you an edge and adding a few extra inches to your height. you never wore them out, too worried that your feet would be killing you after a couple of minutes, but tonight, if you got drunk enough, you wouldn’t feel shit.

you looked at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the top and smoothing down the skirt. 

your makeup was bold, different from what you usually did—a smoky eye that made your eyes pop and a deep red lipstick that matched your top perfectly. you left your hair loose, allowing it to fall in soft waves. satisfied with your look, you grabbed a small clutch and headed out.

when pope arrived to pick you up, his jaw practically hit the floor. he stared at you, eyes wide, as you strutted towards the car.

“i'm sorry—are we going to a strip club or to a party?” he blurted out.

"are you slutshaming me?"

"no, but be real for a second."

you rolled your eyes, but a small smirk played on your lips. “don’t be dramatic. just wanted to look good.”

“look good?” pope repeated, still in disbelief, “sweets, you always look good, okay? but this? you look like you’re about to rip someone’s heart out.”

“good,” you replied, sliding into the passenger seat. “that’s the goal.”

he shook his head, muttering something under his breath about needing to keep an eye on you all night.

“you’re gonna tell me what happened?”

“nothing happened.”

“right.”

the delta house was already packed when you arrived, the music thumping so loud you could feel it in your chest. you walked in with pope by your side, determined to leave all your worries at the door.

“alright, let’s get some drinks,” pope clapped his hands, rubbing them together before leading you to the makeshift bar. you could feel eyes on you as you walked through the crowd, whispers and stares following your every step. you ignored them. 

so what if people knew you fucked rafe? that was your business, not theirs.

you grabbed a tequilla shot, downing it quickly and feeling the alcohol warm you up from the inside. pope handed you another, and you sipped it more slowly, trying to steady your nerves.

“easy. ‘m not holding your hair back if you throw up,” he warned, nudging you gently. “just relax and have fun. cleo’s joining later.”

“awwww, look at you being soft."

“shut up. don’t embarrass me in front of her."

you placed your hand over your heart, “i would never!”

the night wore on, the party growing louder. you danced, laughed, and mingled, trying to keep your mind off rafe and the mess you'd made of things. pope stuck by your side, and cleo, the girl of his dreams, joined you eventually, her energy infectious. 

you were happy he’d found someone. 

you were at the bar, grabbing another drink, when you saw rafe walk in.

your heart nearly dropped out of your ass, but you forced yourself to stay calm. he was with the same girl from the library and seeing them together made your stomach churn. he hadn't even noticed you yet, too busy talking to her.

"pope," you called, nudging him. "look who's here."

pope glanced over and sighed. "ignore him, please. we're here to have fun, remember?"

you nodded, drowning another shot, "right. fun."

it was easier said than done. every time you glanced their way, you wanted to storm up to him and punch him in that stupid perfect face. why did it bother you so much? he was just a guy. just rafe cameron. you downed another drink, hoping the alcohol would numb the emotions swirling inside you.

“goddamn mama, are you drinking yourself to death?”

jj’s presence barely phased you, “yes.”

“what’s got you so worked up?”

you groaned, not really in the mood for his antics. “nothing. just havin’ a good time.”

“yeah, right,” jj snorted, stealing your drink and taking a sip. “try again. this shit is 95% vodka by the way.”

you snatched it from his hands, “don’t drink my shit. don’t wanna talk about it.”

“alright,” he held up his hands in mock surrender, “dance with me then?”

“no.”

“pleaseee,” he begged, jutting out his bottom lip in a ridiculous pout, “c’mon.

despite your best efforts to stay frustrated, his infectious energy made you crack a smile. "fine, but just one song maybank."

jj whooped, “atta girl.”

he grabbed your hand with a mischievous grin and pulled you onto the crowded dance floor. you laughed as he twirled you around, his movements were surprisingly graceful. one time he made you faceplant the floor, so this was an improvement. 

his energy has always been infectious, jj was a literal golden retriever in human from and soon enough you found yourself letting go of all the worries that had been weighing you down. you moved in sync with him, your hips swaying, and your arms following the flow of the music. jj’s playful antics kept you entertained—he'd throw in a spin or a sudden dip, making you laugh even harder.

but then, he leaned in close, his voice barely audible over the music.

“guess who's watching?"

you raised an eyebrow, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

"who?"

jj nodded towards the edge of the dance floor, where rafe stood with a group of his friends. “my number one fan. been eyeing us since we started."

“uh,” you glanced in his direction, catching rafe’s gaze briefly before he looked away, “that’s weird.”

“i know you two fucked.”

your hand instantly reached out to shove jj’s shoulder, “shut up.”

“i'm serious. you’re gonna let him watch or show him what he's missing?"

on one hand, you were furious at rafe for bringing another girl to the party so soon after whatever had happened between you two. after telling you he was in love with you. sure you were a bitch after, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. on the other hand, jj’s always made you go off the rails, in a way that stoked your pride. 

“fine,” you said with a defiant grin, “let’s give him a show.”

jj’s smirk widened, and without missing a beat, he spun you around and pulled you in closer, moving with even more enthusiasm than before. the music pounded around you, you couldn’t even tell the lyrics apart. every twirl, every dip, every sway of your hips was a message to rafe—whether he was watching or not—that you were done feeling sorry for yourself. as the song reached its peak, jj dipped you low, and you laughed breathlessly. you glanced towards where rafe had been standing, but he was gone.

then, without warning, from the corner of your eye, you saw a commotion erupting nearby. before you could react, the crowd around you began to murmur and part, revealing rafe. what the hell? what was this? a coming-of-age movie?

his usually friendly composed demeanor was gone, the glare in him was enough to scare anyone in his way. he stormed towards you, his eyes locked on jj. and then it clicked.

“oh for fuck's sake,” you groaned under your breath, knowing that nothing good would come out of it.

"hey, what the—" jj started, but before he could finish, rafe swung a punch at him.

yep, there it was. 

the blow caught jj off guard, knocking him back a step. the music seemed to stop, or at least fade into the background as chaos erupted around you. people gasped and shouted, some pulling rafe away while others checked on jj.

you pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance as you watched jj touch his jaw gingerly. 

“what the fuck, cameron?” jj groaned, “watch the pretty face.”

rafe’s chest was heaving as he glared at the other blonde, fists typically clenched by his side, looking as if he was ready to pounce on him again. before he could take another step, you placed yourself in front of him, blocking jj’s figure sitting on the ground.

“upstairs. right now,” rafe opened his mouth to spit something, but you cut him off, “now.”

he moved silently, following you up a flight of stairs to a quieter area. you could hear his breathing from miles away, he was still worked up. you found an empty room and stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind you.

“what the hell was that?” you demanded, turning to face him.

rafe ran a hand through his face, frustration evident in his every movement. “i don’t know, okay? i just—i saw you with him, and i lost it.”

“oh, so you’re a caveman now?”

"god, you can be so fucking infuriating," rafe exploded, throwing his jacket into a corner of the room, "i saw you. touching him like... like none of this matters!"

"none of what matters?" you shot back, incredulous. "you show up with another girl after telling me you love me, and now i‘m not supposed to move on? what do you expect?"

"me?!" he jabbed a finger into his chest, his face flushed with anger. "that was my damn tutor! i wasn't trying to—shit. you think i'm trying to move on? i told you i loved you. that shit doesn’t just disappear because you don't feel the same way."

now you just felt stupid.

"your tutor?" you repeated, trying to wrap your head around the new information.

“we weren’t exactly on speaking terms and i needed help with calculus,” he muttered, “didn’t think you’d want to speak to me. and i was still sad.”

rafe shifted uncomfortably in his place, his expression now softer. you felt the sudden urge to hug him, but you didn’t. 

“you said you were supposed to move on,” he says carefully eyeing you.

“i did?” you lied, suddenly feeling like the room was closing in on you, “i don’t think so.”

“you did,” he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "i meant what i said that night. did you?” 

you looked away for a moment, “rafe—“

“i don’t care if you don’t love me, you don’t have to, not right now. i just need to know if you think you can, one day.”

this wasn’t the rafe who punched jj, or the rafe who stormed through the crowd in a fit of jealousy. this was the rafe you were used to. 

your ears were ringing as he closed the distance between you. his eyes searching yours, desperate for an answer. the anger had melted away, replaced by a raw, aching need. fuck, he was good.

“listen—” you started again, but this time your voice was softer, trembling. he was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath mingling with yours, “can you back up? jesus. can’t think properly with you close.”

“don’t want to back up,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. he didn’t move, instead leaning in even closer, his lips brushing your ear, “yes or no?”

“cameron,” you breathed, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

but he wasn’t having it.

his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “tell me you don’t feel this,” he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “tell me you don’t want me too.”

he held your face by the jaw before leaning forward on instinct to kiss you but stopped himself right before he did. eyes on his lips now, completely entranced, you leaned forward to finish what he started but he was stopping you with his thumb. you stayed close though, gaze still fixated on his bottom lip and when his eyes flicker up to yours again, they’re wild and dark.

“you gonna make me fuck it out of you?”

you couldn’t deny the way your body reacted to him, the way your pulse quickened every time he was near, “and if i do?”

he didn't answer immediately, instead closing the gap between you in a heartbeat. his lips crashed against yours, his hand sliding from your jaw to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it as he squeezed you deliciously. 

all of a sudden, you were pressed against a wall, his body firm against yours, pinning you with his weight. he got a groan out of you, tilting your head as his grip tightened on your hips to keep you there, secured to him.

“this isn’t fair,” you pushed at his shoulder with your palm so that he pulled away to look at you, “you’re playing dirty.”

“so what?” he breathes out, jaw relaxed as his hips start to grind against yours.

your hand reached out to grab his shoulder for purchase when your hips started to move on their own, “oh fuck.”

rafe arched his hips sharply, teasing your clit, eliciting a gasp as you leaned your head against the wall, your chin tilting towards the ceiling. he kissed your neck, where sweat-dampened hair started to cling at your nape.

when did it get so hot in the stupid room?

“you’re—oh, gonna f-fuck me in a stranger’s room? real romantic,” you tried to sound casual, but it came out all wrong when his fingers pressed into the plush of your ass. 

he laughed against your skin, the sound making you tighten your legs around him. you were glad his hands were currently busy because a single touch between your thighs would expose how wet you were. 

“you can say it.”

your arms slided past his shoulders and loosely locked behind his neck, “no.”

rafe shook his head, “you asked for it.”

“rafe.”

he was poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek looking at you as if he was ready do destroy you whole, “told you i was gonna get it out of you.”

you blinked slowly, savoring the sight of his face, then your wrists, still crossed behind his neck, tugged gently, drawing him closer, craving his threat, “you’re gonna fuck me until i confess?

he lowered his head until his forehead met yours, your fingers could sense the rapid throb of his pulse beneath his jaw, his eyes tender, holding an adoration you never knew was possible. no one had ever looked at you that way. 

you pulled him by the fabric of his shirt, hard enough to make him understand he needed to do something. you moaned against his lips, fingers threading through his hair as he trailed kisses down your neck, sucking and biting gently at the sensitive skin.

your skirt rode up as he rutted into you, and his hand slipped under the fabric, fingers grazing the edge of your panties, teasingly close to where you ached for him most. you gasped, arching into his touch, silently begging for more.

“rafeee,” you whimpered, “please."

he pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, eyes dark with lust. “say it,” he demanded, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, driving you crazy with anticipation.

“no.” you managed to choke out, feeling a flush of heat spread through your body.

he raised a brow, “no?”

his fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric of your panties, finding you wet and ready. he groaned at the feel of you, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan his name. you clung to him, hips bucking against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

“you sure?” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise. 

you barely had time to think about changing your answer before he plunged two thick fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. your back arched off the wall, your head falling back as waves of pleasure crashed over you. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“rafe, i'm—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, your body trembling as you felt the orgasm build, ready to spill over.

but then he was pulling back just as you were about to fall over the edge. it was maddening, the way he seemed to know exactly how to bring you right to the cusp of pleasure and then deny it. you’d only fucked once before, and it felt like he’d memorize every single thing you liked. every spot that made your toes curl. 

“please, let me—”

“you said no, baby” he interrupted, a mocking smile curling on his lips. “you’re not ready.”

his fingers moved with practiced precision, slow and deliberate, stoking the flames of your desire without allowing you any release. every time you felt the pleasure building to its peak, he’d ease off, bringing you back down, only to start all over again.

you clawed at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he held you firm against the wall, his body a solid, unyielding barrier. “please,” you begged again, “i can’t take it.”

“oh, you can,” he scolded, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “and you will.”

his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, while his fingers thrust inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. you bucked against his hand, your body pleading for release, but he kept you balanced on that knife’s edge, never letting you tip over. motherfucker.

“I need to come,” you admitted, your voice cracking with desperation. “please, baby. i need to come.”

rafe’s pretty blue eyes darkened with satisfaction at your words, but he still didn’t relent. 

instead, he slowed his movements even more, drawing out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable. you writhed against him, your body trembling, every nerve ending on fire.

“you want to come?” he asked, his voice a seductive purr, “that bad, huh?”

“t-this isn’t f-fair.”

“awww, sorry baby."

“fuck, fucking—"

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with approval. “just a lil more, yeah?”

he increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb rubbing faster against your clit, and you felt the pleasure building again, higher and higher, until you were sure you couldn’t take it anymore. but this time, he didn’t stop. this time, he pushed you right to the edge and then, finally, let you fall.

your orgasm crashed over like a train wreck, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. you screamed his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the waves of pleasure that seemed to go on forever. rafe held you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were a boneless, panting mess in his arms.

“good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection. 

he kissed you tenderly, his lips a gentle contrast to the intensity of what you’d just experienced. as you came down from your high, he held you close, his fingers still inside you, his thumb gently stroking your clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure through your body.

you couldn’t find the words to answer, your mind too foggy with pleasure. instead, you just held onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

rafe’s fingers slowly withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more. he lifted you gently, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with his casual tenderness. he climbed in beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body warm and solid against yours.

“i love you,” his voice was a soft caress against your ear. “i meant it.”

you looked up at him, “i know,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him, “i think i love you too.”

“i know.”

[the-unseelie-court-official]

For those who don’t know, I am the technical admin for a Minecraft server. Now I have slightly above average skills with computers, but nothing to call home about, since computers generally act weird around me. That said I was the best equipped for it so me and @the-seelie-court-official started it up together, me for technical stuff and Dion for community stuff.

Now let me tell you about the Haunting on the Minecraft server.

One of the things I wanted to set up was NPC shop keeps. Now these shop keeps look like players, and I can code them to type in chat and to walk around, but they aren’t players. They aren’t counted in the server list, they only say the words I’ve given them. One of these Npcs was Herb, the Herbalist. They sold plants.

This was their skin, by the way.

Now one day herb stopped talking, this was odd so I tried to select them, like I had done so many times before, but it wouldn’t work. Whenever I tried I was met with error messages. I couldn’t select them, so I couldn’t delete them, I couldn’t move them, they had cut their strings and I the puppet master was forced to place an end portal beneath them and drop them into the void.

I thought this would be the last of it.

Fast forward a couple months and the server is up and running for public use. The players got into the end to find the end dragon missing, and upon building out to make an enderman farm we found herb. They were hovering, in the void. Easily accessible, I still couldn’t select them to change them or edit them so we just let them stay, floating above the yawning void that was meant to get rid of them.

Over time the server got more and more glitchy, chunks were being loaded by the thousand with only one or two people on at a time. After some serious sleuthing we (me and my team) found that the server recognized a ghost player. One that wasn’t listed when you pressed Tab, but was listed on the server side. The console of the server was filled with error messages almost constantly, cascading errors of Null, of Not Found despite the fact herb was right there.

Eventually it came to a head, the corn plants and slimefun crops went Wrong. Corrupted just like herb. And with fields of Steve heads staring back from what should be a farm we agreed that we would completely delete the world. The world that herb was in, that whole dimension. In hopes it would finally get rid of them.

We thought it worked, that we had finally be rid ourselves of this beast of my own creation. An hour later Herb Appeared at the world spawn. As if nothing had happened.

Finally I had to resort to burying them in a bedrock box directly under world spawn, because while I couldn’t move them I could break the blocks under them to make them fall. They sit down there trapped, vomiting error messages any time they are looked at or touched. Waiting for the chance to destroy what we have built.

[puckinghischier]

Surprise…?

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke gets hurt during a game

notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩

request: can you do a post on luke Hughes getting badly injured the game at umich and both older brothers are there and get worried over him and major fluff

i strayed away a bit from the michigan aspect because i don’t feel comfy writing about college hockey players, so i changed it up a bit. i hope you still enjoy!! 🫶🏼

[3.3k]

~

There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.

“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.

Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.

“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.

“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”

You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.

In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.

“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.

“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.

Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.

“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.

“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.

The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.

You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.

You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet. You wondered if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.

Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.

Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.

The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.

“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.

“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.

“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.

“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”

Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.

Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.

With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.

What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.

You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.

Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.

You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.

Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.

“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”

The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.

You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.

“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”

All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.

“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.

You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.

“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.

You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.

You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.

“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.

You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.

“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.

“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.

“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.

“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.

Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.

“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.

Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.

“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”

“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.  

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.

“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.

“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.

“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.

“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”

“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.

Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.

“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.

“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.

“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.

“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.

“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.

“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.

“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.

“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.

“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.

“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄? ✮ F. LÓPEZ

summary. fermín wants to celebrate his new trophy with you.

warnings. 18+ mean! fermín. smut.

gabri speaks! paz!reader universe is back due to popular demand.

the view of the apartment the guys rented for the party was breathtaking. madrid was a beautiful city, you were glad your brother had convinced your parents to move in with him. although right now you were alone in madrid surrounded by a bunch of players you didn’t know. a bunch of players your brother hated. in the midst of drunk players and their friends you kept tugging your short red dress every five minutes. you were beginning to regret even coming, you were only here because of a certain blonde. a blonde you had yet to see.

“didn’t bring nico?” you’re startled by a familiar voice.

“why? you have a crush on my brother?” you ask him surprised at the sudden interest fermín had for your brother.

“no but it would’ve been nice to show him what a trophy looks like.” you can barely see him through the dim lights but you know he’s smirking. you can hear it in his voice.

“if i’m not wrong you barely had minutes. i’m not too sure you have any bragging rights.” you test him.

“and somehow i played more minutes than your brother has his whole career.” his tone changes. “watch your mouth. you look prettier like that.”

you’re taken aback by his change in demeanor quite frankly you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up. he’s rough and threatening, his good boy facade long gone. you’re amused by the way he’s acting wondering if he’s trying to get you to sleep with him again. you place your hand on his jaw while the other goes into his hair, tempting him.

“it’s such a shame that you could be celebrating your win but instead you’re bitching about my brother like a sad little envious child.” you say sharply not taking insults to your brother lightly.

the smirk that once adorned his face was now gone and you could tell he was mad at you now. he grips your hands away from him with such a tight hold you’ll know they’ll be bruised tomorrow. his eyes pierce into yours with a threatening look and you realize you’ve successfully riled him up.

“okay, that’s it.” he murmurs.

one minute you’re looking at fermín dead in the eye and the next you feel his hands grip your waist. his hold is so strong on you that he manages to carry you over his shoulder with ease. you’re not that surprised at how easily he’s picked you up, you’ve noticed how bulkier he got over the past year. when the guy you’ve been fucking on the low gets hotter you notice.

“fermín! put me down!” you shriek.

the blonde just finds it funny laughing at your vulnerability. your screams manage to get the attention of his teammates and their guests. the least you could say is that he was embarrassing you in front of everyone and you hoped that none of the real madrid players were here. the last thing you needed was to get embarrassed and scolded by your brother. the faces of the guest slowly fade away as fermín drags you to what you can assume is his room. he gently drops you on the bed before laying down next to you.

“you’re such an asshole.” you whine as you fix your dress. it’s then that you realize that some of the guests had probably seen your dress skirt up, your face heats up instantly at that.

you don’t get to bicker at him for much longer because he pulls you on top of him. his hands instantly go towards your hips — a muscle memory for him by now — and holds you. you can already feel him grow hard against you and you get excited. the two of you had just argued and now here he was with a hard on. he thrusts up against you causing a whine to slip past your lips at the sensation.

“such a shame that you could use your mouth for beautiful noises like this instead of arguing.” he murmurs under his breathe trying to contain his groans.

it’s your turn to grind against him causing his breath to falter. he places himself against the crook of your neck as you continue your movements, leaving wet kisses along your throat. you move your hands into the light curls of his hair as you feel yourself growing wetter.

“instead of trying to compete against my brother every five seconds you could be fucking me but you don’t see me complaining.” and there you go always trying to have the last word.

“shut the fuck up and spread your legs.” he groans.

you hesitate but you obey nevertheless. his hand trails down your figure until he places it firmly on your thigh, teasing you. he knows you need him and the idea of making you frustrated is amusing to him. you can’t stand it anymore — his touch being so close yet so far — you yearn him. it’s almost pathetic except for the fact that you know he feels the same way. he’s the one who wanted you first and he always ends up satisfying you even if he’s mad.

his fingers slowly tread up your leg and you grow frustrated at the edging. you can’t stand it anymore so you drag his fingers to where you need him the most causing a teasing laugh to leave his lips. you know he’ll give you shit about this later but you don’t care, you need him. he also seems to think the same as he doesn’t waste time spreading your wetness along your folds. your hips instinctively grind into his hand as his fingers start circling your clit causing waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“oh, fuck.” you whine as he brings a couple of his fingers towards your hole.

“say you want my fingers.” he looks at you with a defying grin. “say it or else i’ll leave you here all alone.”

“fuck fermín please.” you gasp as one of his fingers enters you slowly. “i need your fingers, please”

he leaves a quick kiss on your jaw before inserting you with his second finger. your body collapses against his chest as he fucks you slowly. the intrusion is sudden and your hands grip the sheets below you as he fills you up. the feeling is intense and you feel feral at the way you moan without holding back. the thing about fermín was that while he was asshole at least he fucked, hard. his free hand grabs you by the throat forcing you to look at him as you ride his hand.

he looks at you in awe admiring the way your eyes get glossy as you fuck yourself on his fingers. he analyzes the way your hair bounces with every movement of your hips and how your eyes close and your nose scrunches a bit before reaching your peak. he adds a third finger hoping to help you reach your high. you’re full on whining in his ear now as he fills you up completely. the sensation of your walls clinging to his fingers so tightly also allow him a sense of satisfaction.

“fermín. please.” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. you only knew that you were close.

“you’re so close.” he whispers as he pulls you in for a kiss. the kiss is sloppy but soft. a mixture of lost and love. it scares you, nevertheless you come around his fingers gasping as you wet his fingers.

“fuck, that was hot. you’re hot.” fermín rambles as he helps you come down from your orgasm.

as you adjust your dress and fix your hair fermín watches you intensely. he’s tired of only seeing you like this and never normally. he hadn’t slept with anyone else since you came into his life and you were making him crazy. the feeling of knowing fran was so close of having you too was too much for him and he wasn’t sure why felt so possessive about you.

was it just lust or was it love?

[agaypanic]

Could you write a regina x femme jock fic please

Welcome to the Team (Regina George X Jock!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: After her spine has fully healed, Regina’s doctor suggests she channels her anger into a sport. She chooses lacrosse, mainly because of the hot star player. 

A/N: basically just a meet cute fic. idk shit about lacrosse or sports in general, i was an orchestra + theater kid in high school. also i havent seen it yet so idk if renee’s regina joins the lacrosse team at the end, but i know that rachel’s regina did lol

***

Junior year was very eventful for Regina George. She was a mythic bitch, putting down anyone who so much as looked at her wrong. With the arrival of the new girl, Cady Heron, she saw an opportunity to add another girl to her posse of Plastics. But that new friendship ended with Regina George getting hit by a bus.

She survived, thank God. Her spine had broken, but it healed up in time for her senior year. Regina and Cady forgave each other for the things that had happened last year and were now on good terms. But the social hierarchy that Regina created seemed to die out, she was no longer the queen bee.

But now that Regina George was no longer focusing on being popular, she had time for other things. Like ogling one of the girls on the Lady Lions Lacrosse Team. Not so worried about always doing the ‘right’ thing, she didn’t feel ashamed by her stare or her thoughts. Deep down, she had probably always had a thing for you, the star lacrosse player. 

So when her doctor told her that she should join a sport to channel her anger in a healthier way, she immediately signed up to be a Lady Lion.

As she walked onto the field and saw the rest of the team getting ready for practice, Regina felt slightly intimidated. Not that she let that show. The most she knew about lacrosse was how hot you looked in your uniform. 

And then suddenly, you were standing right in front of her.

“Hey! Regina, right?” You asked, even though you obviously knew who she was. “Our new Lady Lion?”

“Yup.” Regina’s smile was unlike any other she had shown people; it seemed a bit timid. But you didn’t comment on it. “That’s me.”

“I’m Y/n.” You said, shaking her hand. Regina couldn’t help but notice how nice your hand felt in hers. “So, have you ever played lacrosse before?”

“No.” She gained the confidence to giggle and twirl her hair. She had never really flirted with a girl before, so she had to resort to the tactics she had used when trying to bag any guy in her grade. Not that she really had to try, they all dropped to her feet like obedient dogs when she so much as looked at them. But you were different; you actually had a brain. “I’ve only done P.E. sports.”

“Well, don’t worry.” You smiled at her, and she could feel butterflies all up in her stomach. “I’ll help you out. Come on! We’re about to start warm-ups.”

As Regina followed you to the middle of the field, where everyone else was stretching, she had only one thing on her mind. How to get you to be hers before the season was over.

[maxsimagination]

Hii.

This might seem like an odd request but can you do a lucy bronze x reader fluff where theres a thunderstorm at an away match or at england camp (your choice) and r gets scared so lucy makes her sleep with her and in the morning one of the team comes into wake the pair up as they slept in but they see the 'couple' and take a picture and show the squad and when they finally go down for breakfast the pair gets interrogated and a couple months the later the 2 start dating.

Thank you if you do , do it but you dont have to xx

𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 - 𝙡.𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙯𝙚

summary: reader is scared of thunderstorms and lucy comforts them during the night.

𖦹 masterlist

𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗔 — 𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗘

it was an away game against tenerife, in tenerife.

the squad were all travelling together, and it was roughly 4 hours before we landed.

all twenty - four of us girls plus coaches and staff piled out of the airport and into the team-rented bus that took us to our booked hotel. there was an even amount of players so everyone would have a roommate. i had a feeling i knew who i’d be paired with, lucy bronze.

we’d hit it off when i first transferred to the spanish giants last summer, and ever since then she’d been like my mentor.

i was stoked to be in the same team as her a while ago and don’t get me wrong, i still was, but there was something more. she was an amazing person and player, and an attractive one at that.

it just so happened that i was a sucker for pretty girls.

“yn, are you ready to go?”

lucy’s voice pulled me out of my daydream, just as the bus pulled up in front of the hotel. she lightly tapped my arm and grabbed both our bags for us.

“mm, thanks luce.”

again, all twenty - four girls walked into the hotel reception. i almost felt bad for jona since he had a considerable amount of kids (and non-kids which acted like kids) to deal with. almost.

eventually we were all sorted into pairs and sent up to our rooms to get settled, with a strict order to be back at the reception by 6pm. lucy led the way to where our room was located, swiping the key card to let us in. it was a pretty room, with two double beds and a conjoined bathroom.

we set our bags down on the two beds. i chose the one closer to the door, while lucy took the one by the deck.

there was a couple hours until we had to be down for dinner, so i busied myself with sorting my things. i put my most used clothes and shoes in the provided drawers, keeping anything not needed in my suitcase.

eventually we both headed down for dinner and joined everyone else.

i’d noticed the sky was dark and overcast outside, which could only mean one thing. thunderstorms.

i’d never been a big fan of them, the lightning gave me shivers.

it was well past sunset when the team returned to the hotel. i was exhausted from the day and was looking forward to sleeping, but there was a niggle in the back of my mind.

i ignored it and went to have a shower.

when i came out, lucy went in. we hadn’t spoken much since getting back but there wasn’t any bad feelings. she came out of the bathroom just then, only wearing her boxers and a sports bra with her shirt hanging from her neck.

i was staring, respectfully. the girl had abs.

she must’ve noticed my gaze from where i was perched on my bed.

“like whatcha see?”

i blushed, hard, and look down in embarrassment of being caught.

there was a slight pitter-patter of rain drops on the glass from outside, and suddenly my nerves were back. lucy must’ve noticed me tense up.

“you all good?”

“yea, yes. just.. not the biggest fan of rain and thunderstorms.”

“you can join me over here if you want.”

her voice was soft, gentle.

“i’d like that. thankyou.”

i slip over to her double bed, perching on the edge and waiting for lucy to hop in. we must’ve fallen asleep together, because i have no recollection of actually getting to sleep.

in the morning, there was a light knock on the door. neither of us woke to the noise, so the person opened the door and walked in.

it was claudia, she’d come to wake us up. instead of being greeted with the two of us sleeping separately, we were both curled up together in the one bed. unfortunately, she’d think that too funny and snapped a picture before racing back to show patri and mariona.

when we did actually wake up, we didn’t really speak of the night before or sleeping in the same bed. i mumbled a quiet thankyou for comforting me again but that was it.

we walked down to breakfast, and were greeted by the whole team looking at us with a smirk.

when we sat down, claudia spoke first.

“so how was your sleep?”

“good, very comfy beds. how was yours?”

lucy didn’t miss a beat in calming the younger girls’ confidence.

“oh yea, it was good. very comfy. seemed like you two had a great time.”

she flipped her phone around to show us the picture she’d taken this morning. it was us, still asleep, in the same bed. lucy was lying on her back, but i was on my side and curled into lucy’s side, almost lying on top of her.

“it was cold last night, i couldn’t let the girl freeze to death.”

again, lucy was smooth and didn’t show any signs of nerves. i didn’t know whether to let out a sigh of relief or internally cry since she didn’t seem affected by it.

i just let it be, i didn’t want to make a big deal and embarrass either of us.

eventually time had passed and it had been two months since the thunderstorm incident. i thought about it constantly, it never left my mind. it took everything i me to not talk to lucy and clear everything up. i did not want to make a fool of myself.

we were at training that day, i was standing off to the side grabbing a drink when alexia came up beside me.

“you know she thinks about you too.”

her spanish accent didn’t help her case, but i knew what she said.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she gave me a knowing look, her captains look, she said it was.

“you know exactly what i am talking about. you should go talk to her.”

i could feel my face go pale at her words.

“ale, that is the last thing i want to do. what if she doesn’t like me back?”

my captain just laughs.

“niña tonta. do you see the way she looks at you? she loves you.” (you silly girl.)

i don’t respond, just blush a little and look out to where lucy was practicing on the pitch. she was so gorgeous, her muscles popping in all the right places.

“de acuerdo.” (okay.)

i don’t say anything else, just walk over to the water cooler to pick up my water bottle again. i end up waiting until practice is over and all the girls are walking to the change room.

“luce, can i borrow you over here?”

“yea, what’s up?”

“just wanted to talk, and get something off my chest.

um, so. i don’t know how to say this, but i guess, i like you more than friends?”

i looked down immediately, not wanting to see the look of rejection on lucy’s face. when she didn’t say anything, curiosity got the better of me and i looked up a bit.

she was grinning down at me with a huge smile.

“you know i like you too, right?”

i wanted to say i dumbfounded, but alexia had quite literally told me she liked me back and i still didn’t believe her.

“like, for real?”

lucy nodded, and leaned down to give me a peck on the lips.

i was stunned but had a tiny dopey smile plastered on my face. alexia had come out of the changing rooms to find us then, and saw lucy holding my hand, and me with a grin. she must’ve put two and two together and figured it out.

“i was right, sí?”

i nodded at her, and she laughed.

“i told you she liked you, niña tonta.” (silly girl.)

[ristoranteivorykeys]

twst mermay 13 — teeth

headcanons about how the octavinelle trio will bite you and their reaction to you biting them :3c

ft. azul ashengrotto, jade leech, and floyd leech

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: some steaminess; yes i intend to somehow finish everything in the mermay masterlist no matter what time of the year it is, octatrio is still my love

╰┈➤ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨: mermay masterlist

Among the trio, Floyd is the first to leave hickeys on his lover. In fact, it's already in your first intense kisses when he starts leaving your lips for your neck.

Floyd's already known how fragile human skin can be against his teeth. He's bitten Jade's arm in a sibling squabble before on land, and he noticed how much easier it was to penetrate human skin than merfolk eel skin.

Still, the first time he left hickeys on you, he was careless enough that he heard a yelp from you and when he looked up, his bite mark was a vibrant red. Needless to say, some wounds had to be dressed that night.

But it more than satisfies a deep carnal desire when he sees that your skin is marked with that red dotted curve—the marks of his teeth on your skin. It's not only an arousal, but it means a lot to him. As a moray eel, waiting is something he values because waiting will give him the best results: waiting for the right time to strike prey, waiting for his part of the plan to come up and see the big picture come together... waiting for the right person to be his lover. And once he's with that right person, can he be faulted for spoiling you with all he has?

When he sees you outside the bedroom, it arouses him when he imagines the hickeys left on your skin. It arouses him further when it's exposed for the world to see. Sometimes, Floyd may expose your hickeys, whether by tugging on the collar of your uniform or by casually dropping it in conversation. If it is something you're uncomfortable with, Floyd is still a team player with people that he cares about—he'll be all ears to you expressing your discomfort.

Now if you're the one biting Floyd, it will really make him ecstatic. His head would be hazy from the pleasure your teeth give him and the amusement that he's getting from being the one on the receiving end. While he is by no means as strict about equivalent exchange as Azul, he still abides by that to some degree. It would make him happy to be marked just like you are.

He isn't picky about where he'd be bitten. He's not sensitive in a particular area, as long as you bite him hard enough to get him groaning. He doesn't care either about his marks being seen. In fact, once he receives your love bites, Floyd would walk around with obvious marks. It exasperates Azul, but he doesn't care. He loves the hickeys that you give him, and he isn't hesitant to expose them.

When you're in the first few months of the relationship, things are actually relatively tame and sweet. The most that you get is the occasional makeout session, but often Jade cuts them short, whether it is due to Mostro Lounge shifts, schoolwork, or other things.

It's not because he doesn't want to put in effort into the relationship. Jade just does not flash his teeth until he's ready to. He needs time to really get to bond with you and see that you're someone that he can trust before truly letting himself go with you.

And once he finds you trustworthy and appealing to be with, you will get to know that in the form of a sharp pain as he digs his teeth into the base of your neck.

Actually, his first hickey would be somewhat unintentional—he was just so lost in the moment and so lost in you that he opened his mouth and wanted even more of you than just your kisses. Once realization dawns upon him, he would be shocked.

After that first hickey, you better expect more hickeys, and it will go from the areas where no one will definitely see, like your inner thighs, to areas that can be exposed with one wrong movement of your clothes, like your neck.

Jade would tease the hell out of you with those near exposed love bites. You would be talking to your friends, and he passes by you, with a hand on your shoulder. "Hello my pretty rosebud, how are you this fine day? Ah, there's a bit of dust on your collar, I just want to..." And he would move your collar in a way that it would expose your love bite if one looks at the right moment. Any reaction will amuse Jade, whether you panic outwardly, stiffen, or keep yourself together surprisingly and give him a glare when no one else is looking, because at this point, he just likes to learn about all your little ticks and quirks.

If it takes a while for Jade to bite you, expect it to take longer for him to let you bite him. Trust builds slowly, and Jade would rather be marked by someone who will stick around for a long time than for a mere 2 years or less.

But once he allows you to bite him? Oh, you better bite hard because Jade will taunt you if you can't leave marks on his skin. "Oh, is this the best you can do? I was hoping you of all people would not be so shy with me."

Bite him on the inner thighs, and Jade will shut up as he muffles a moan. He may stifle his sounds, but he cannot stop the way his body trembles when you suck on that particular wound you leave in his thigh.

It would really get him if you pull the same teasing thing with him. Jade would really try to be one step ahead of you of course, but when you not only persist but also manage to get him when he least expects it... Jade's going to be so overjoyed, having such a fun partner by his side for the rest of his life.

Azul has two kinds of love bites.

The first kind is the one that is often littered along your chest and base of your neck. Azul bites hard enough to elicit moans out of you and leave little marks on your skin, but it's soft and quick enough that they will heal a few hours after your canoodling. They are fleeting like the glow of a contract that has been torn, but they are still a reminder that there is something between you two. It's a nice balance of spice and class that Azul can seamlessly do.

These love bites are the ones you only see in the first few months or even the first year of your relationship with Azul. For him, it's because there's that part of him that's expecting that this will not last. It's Azul's silent way of bracing himself for any losses he might incur if things go wrong.

It's understandable to feel just a bit disappointed about it, and one might even misinterpret it as him not loving you enough. But just know that on the contrary, Azul does care about you. It's his own way of keeping things stable between you and him because he wants this relationship to last. Already choosing you to be his lover is a huge choice for him, and he wants to make sure that it's the right choice.

The second kind of love bite happens when Azul is very emotional to the point he has a hard time controlling himself. These are the bites where his fangs will come out and mark you much deeper. Azul will take much more time with each bite, eliciting more moans out of you, and he will suck on the skin even more, creating deep marks that will last for days.

These are the bites that will either get him huskily whispering in your ear that you are his, or him in tears saying that he loves you and wishes to care for you from now on. These are the bites that let you know that he is placing his trust in you and expressing how much he wants to stay by your side.

At first, Azul is very careful about your love bites being exposed. It's part of why his first love bites heal fast. He is conscious of your image to your classmates, and he is conscious of his own. He would rather not be thought of as obscene, and he doesn't want you to be caught in any gossip either.

However, when you get closer, Azul gets cheeky. You would be talking with friends or walking along a crowded hallway, and Azul would approach you with an arm around your shoulders. He'd be asking you about your day and what your assignments are, and before you realize it, he'd have one finger hooked on your collar, exposing to the world a tease of a red mark on your neck. If you stiffen or panic in response, Azul would ask in mock concern if you're okay as he hides a shit-eating grin.

Azul is also possessive. If another person approaches you with romantic interests, he will wrap one arm around your waist as he pulls on your collar, exposing his marks on you: "I'm sorry, I hope I did not mishear you saying that you were asking out my love to a date."

He does want you to bite him back. Half of it is to satisfy the equivalent exchange he so values. The other half is just that he likes it, plain and simple. He respects it if you aren't into it, though, just as long as you show your love for him in other ways.

But when you do bite him, he often puts a hand over his mouth because he moans loud while he holds you really close to him. He's particularly sensitive around the neck area, where even the small bites will leave him gasping. He really values it though if you leave deep bites around areas that are easy to cover up, like the chest, and shallow bites around areas that are harder to cover up.