#and then just sat there like fuck. what now

[toothfa-1-ry]

YOU STILL LIKE IT THOUGH

GENRE: Fluff, crack fic ish?

PAIRING: Choi su-bong/thanos x preg!fem!reader

FEAT: Nam gyu as the supportive bestie (that he never rlly was)

A/N: this fic i based of a request from anon !! Tbh i changed ALOT of the request (haha- sorry 😞) because I felt like it was a little repetitive and idk i just can't write rlly emotional scenes with Thanos for some reason (??) ALSO I feel like there are parts where Thanos seems ooc? Idk.. i wrote this instead of studying in the span of 30 mins

"Whoo!" You hear Thanos shout on the top of his voice while he high fives nam gyu as they both jump up and down as if they were children in elementary school after winning a play ground game

You manage your groan, suppressing it while you stare at them from afar, of course that crazy fucker managed to pass through the first game.

You hated to admit it, but a part of you was relieved,

You always had a thing for psycho guys, and your ex boyfriend? The one with the brightly dyed hair who was now doing some weird dance seemed to proudly embody every part of that sentiment.

You carefully watch from afar, not wanting to catch his eyes, your hand unknowingly lay over your stomach while you move uncomfortably in the bunk bed

Fuck, your feeling dizzy all over again

You hear a thud against your bed post, you look up slowly, your eyes slightly squinting to see the purple haired boy with a usual frown on his face

"Hey" his eyebrows raise "are you okay"

"I thought I told you to get lost earlier"

Your mood swings weren't really helping either

"Geez woman" thanos tchs but sits beside you in your bed anyways "im just trying to help" grumbling under his breath but the cautious expression in his face saied otherwise

"I came here to brag about how amazing i usually am but seeing you like this is just killing the vibe yknow"

he makes a hand gesture in the air, leaning face closer in an attempt to make you smile which does not go wasted as the smile you tried to supress escaped your face

"Fuck off you loser" your still kneeling, your hands over your knees and your face hiding behind your knees but he hears the smile in your voice anyways.

He wouldn't want to admit it, but he was relieved

He always had a thing for girls with pretty voices and you? The girl right next to him had to have one of the prettiest voices he had ever heard. Ofcourse who would better know than a rapper like himself?

"I thought I told you to stick close to me, instead you leech to that crazy old man" thanos says as he points towards gi hun who sat far away in the opposite side

You immediately slap his hand, causing him to wince while retracing it back, rubbing it softly

"How many times will I tell you! You shouldn't point your hands at strangers especially to people who are older" you scold him rather loudly causing him to wince even more

"Agh" thanos ruffles his neon hair while complaining "why don't you shout louder so that everyone will hear and laugh at me?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes upon his childish manners, he really didn't change

Thanos suddenly bangs the top of the bunk with a loud sound, taking you by shock

"Oi" his voice loud and almost threatening "nam gyu" calling out the man above the bed

Immediately your taken by shock once more when a man's head pops upside down, with black oily hair falling all over his face from above the bed

"Yes Thanos?" Nam gyu quickly inquired while sparing you a quick glance which didn't go unnoticed by the scowling man next to you

"Did you hear her telling me off?" He points at nam gyu before quickly adding "careful, there's only one correct answer"

Nam gyu pauses and thinks which seems to be the wrong thing to do as it just annoys Thanos

"Whats wrong with you, tell me quickly!"

"N-no! Not at all! Infact nobody heard anything!" Nam gyu quickly says, obviously lying but this seemed to please Thanos who now held a haughty face

Wow, this is was supposedly the father of your unborn child. Shame you and your taste in weird guys

Before Thanos could open his mouth to say something, a group of pink guards enter the room with large containers

Straight away you freeze up, shrinking behind the bed while your heart hammered, fear spread across your face

Noticing your expression on your face, instinctively Thanos covers you with his back, shielding you with his arms which covered your sides while his expression, though you could not see was filled with wariness

The pink guards open the large containers they were carrying as everyone watched quietly, scared as they were unsure of what to expect, you included

The pink guard with the white circle lifts up a piece of bread and milk "lunch time" announcing in the same robotic voice like all the other guards

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your shoulders relax, unlike you Thanos still shields you, covering your face with his back

You hit him with a thud on the back of his head

"What the hell man" thanos turns around, his eyes glaring at you

"Stop trying to act like a hero you shameless prick" you frown even though his actions did leave you with a warm feeling in your heart

"Your acting so protective after all the stunt you pulled before we broke up" you continue "seeing you act all so protective is just pissing me off even more"

Thanos throws his head back, groaning "give me a break woman. You know I was going through a hard time"

"Bullshit" your fold your arms, as if it was act to protect yourself, and the unborn baby in your stomach.

The poor thing was only 2 months old

The both of you hear nam gyu cough from above the bed, forgetting that he was there in the first place

Again Thanos bangs the top of the bunk, causing you to give him a look

"Stop doing that" you scold him

"doing what?" Thanos raises his eyebrow before banging the top of the bunk again while sticking his tongue at you

Nam gyu pops back down again, upside down, the sight would have been hilarious only if you weren't experiencing the pain in your stomach and the sight of the man sitting beside you

"Go get lunch for me and my girl" thanos tilts his head towards you while avoiding your eyecontact while you tell yourself not to think about the fact that he still referred to you as 'his girl'

"go fast what are you still doing here" thanks reprimanded nam gyu

Nam gyu awkwardly stood unsure of what to say "but it's just one bread and one milk per person"

"Then give her yours" thanos said simply "and go steal someone's lunch for me"

"Then what about for me?" Nam gyu asked dumbfounded which caused Thanos to pause and think for a while

"That's not my fucking problem man- now go" he pushes him away, leaving you with a heavy sigh

"I don't want to eat"

"Don't talk bullshit" thanos eyes you "you think i'm gonna let you starve? I never did, and i wont be starting now"

Again with the whole protective boyfriend act, fuck, why did it make your heart race a little?

"Your still such an asshole, you didnt change a bit" you huffed as you leaned behind, resting your back against the wall

"Well you changed" thanos says which quirks your curiosity

"How so?'

"I don't know" he shrugs "something is different. Something happened, i can't exactly ppint my fi ger at it though"

Your eyes dart away from his while your breathing started to fasten slightly

"Oh yea? How so?" You ask, your voice slightly higher than it was which Thanos picks up immediately

"Ohoho" he grins "did I get it right? Did you get something done?" He glances you up and down which leads you to hitting him

"Ow- i was just joking, you still take everything so seriously" he grumbled holding your hand from hitting him "I wish that part had changed'

Your other hand comes swinging which he again grabs softly

"jokingg" he says in a sing song voice before letting both your arms go leaving you with a scowl and him with a satisfied smirk in his face

"Asshole" you mutter which stretches his smirk even more

"You still like it though"

You almost swear you heard a hint of vulnerability in his tone, prompting you to glance at him quickly just to catch him already looking at you

"So? Aren't you gonna ask me what has changed?" You ask slowly, in your head trying to process whether your doing the right thing or not,

You first found out you were pregnant with your baby right after you and Thanos broke up.

The following days, whenever you went to pay him a visit, he was always missing, causing you to believe maybe it was better for him not to know. And then you suddenly meet him for the first time after your breakup during the squid games

The timing was almost comical

"Why?" Thanos continued still with an amused face "you still seem the same on the inside"

Your hand immediately goes to your stomach, slowly tracing along it from above the green track jacket which everyone wore

"Don't tell me your sick or something" thanos asks with his voice slightly raised as he notices your action "fuck are you?"

His eyes slightly widens as he frowns "hey" he snaps his finger upon your zoning out "are you sick?"

"Hm?" You ask confused

"What the fuck" he swears under his breath with a anxious expression on his face while his hand runs through his finger "is that why your here? To win some money for your treatment?"

"Su Bong its not like that-" All your attempts of correcting him seemed to be futile as he sweared loudly, getting out of the bed

"Shit shit shit!" He grabs his head while he paced around the floor, a sight you had seen a few times over the span of your relationship

"ofcourse that's why your here, you would only be here for a sensible reason"

"Oh, su bong" you attempt to appeal to him, reaching your hand out, pulling his closer towards you while he hands were still over his head, eyes lowered

"Fuck baby I'm so sorry" he breathed out "shit i never should have left, i thought" he paused "I thought I'd win some money and get you back, give you the life you really deserve but"

You watch his dazed expression while he rambled, you bit you underlip, hesitant of whether to tell him the truth still

"Fuck, i didn't even know that, i didn't even know you were sick-"

Before he could continue again you grab his face , forcing him to look at your face

"I'm not sick, that's not why im here"

Thanos breathed heavily, everything felt so real suddenly, he felt his cross necklace strapped around his neck, his fingers itching to pop a pill in his mouth to sooth his nerves

"I'm not sick" you shake your head as you lean your forehead against his "su-bong"

You can still feel his strained breaths and darting eyes

"I'm pregnant"

And it all stopped,

You held your breath, afraid of what would happen if you let go, your could heart your heartbeat from your ears, feel the realisation setting inside thanos,

You were scared. Scared of how he would react

He breaks away first, slowly and gently. Staring at you with no expression in his face,

"And it's yours" you rapidly feel the need to add, taken back by his silence which didn't not suit him "and i know having a kid was never in your plan, and i know things are over between us but-"

Your body is wrapped by his arms and his face nestles in your neck, pulling your deeper in his embrace

"Holy shit" thanos whispers in your ear, you can hear the giddiness radiating off his voice "im a dad"

"Yea you are" you laugh a little as you say "your a dad"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I never got the chance to"

Thanos furrows his eyebrows but doesn't press any more "will you let me be our baby's dad?" He ask

"You know I grew up without a dad, this kid doesn't deserve that" he pokes your stomach with a soft grin which looked slightly odd against his eccentric features "I wanna be in this kids life"

You nodd softly, hearing his words

"And yours too" thanos looks up to you, grinning while he winked at you "senorita"

"You corny bastard" you laugh shaking your head

"You still like it though"

You nodd your head, with tenderness in your eyes and voice

"I do"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ extra scene pack !!

"Thanos!" Nam gyu came running with 3 pieces of sweet bread and 3 packets of milk "I got it! Do you know how much trouble i went to get all these-"

"Give it here " thanos grabbed all the bread and milk away "why did you take so long anyways"

Nam gyu held his hands as he pouted "I mean- i had to fight like 2 guys for bread and milk for us-"

Thanos brushed him off as he opened all the packets of bread and poked in the straw of all the milk packets

"Uhm thanos" nam gyu apprehensively called out "What are you doing?"

Thanos hands you all the bread and urges you to eat while he holds the packets of milk in his hand, ready to feed you

Thanos gestures towards you who was sitting in the bed, now wrapped in not only your jacket but his aswell "can't you see the lady is pregnant"

Nam gyu scratched his head "pregnant? With who?"

Thanos shakes his head, exaggerating his actions "dumb ass, she's pregnant with my baby ofcourse" he announced like it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Holy shit!" Nam gyu gaped his hand covering his mouth as he stares at you while you sheepishly smile at him

Thanos let out a small laugh which then slowly grew louder

"What? Why are you surprised? Ofcourse i succeeded in my first try- fuck" he kneels down in pain after being striked by you in the stomach

Nam gyu pulls a face in behalf of Thanos as he pats his back sympathetically while he whispers to you

"Don't worry. I know it probably wasnt his first try or anything- ow" nam gyu kneels on the ground after being hit in the stomach by thanos

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

"What... what are you guys doing?" You question as you approach Thanos and nam gyu who were huddled up in a corner, in a long rather quiet conversation which seemed like an unusual activity for both of them to part take in

Both in the 'discussion' and 'quiet' part

Thanos loops his arm around your with a proud smirk on his face while urging nam gyu to announce what they were discussing

Nam gyu nodds eagerly as gets up in his two feet quickly, standing straight and tall with a loud and confident voice "we have decided the perfect name for the baby !!"

You see thanos's broad smile and nam gyu's confident voice, uneasiness settling in your stomach for whatever name they picked out

"These is the name that Thanos and i have personally given a lot of thought for and chosen after much contemplation !!"

Thanos nodded his head with a content expression while he winked at you, assuring that you'll like it

"Ahem" nam gyu clears his throat "before I announce the name that we have chosen, i would like to give recognition to the name we almost chose aswell !!"

Thanos immediately began clapping his hand loudly "waaah, I never knew you could speak so well "

This comment made nam gyu's chest fill swell with pride as he puffs out his chest a little

"I shall now, announce the first runners up, the name that almost was given to the new born baby"

nam gyu pauses which prompts Thanos to make the sound of drum rolls

"Nebula" nam gyu announces as he and thanos clap loudly.

Seeing your still figure both men urge you to claps aswell

"Nebula?" You mutter under your breath "where have i heard that name before?"

"And now, the name that has been selected over numerous selection test and discussion, the name of the baby is" nam gyu points at your stomach

"Gamora"

Thanos whoops loudly, both nam gyu and him clapping their hands in the air while you stand off handedly as it hits you

"Your naming our child after the daughter of the purple alien monster from a superhero movie?!"

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ELEVEN

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of severe anemia; pregnancy; abortion

💌MASTERLIST

Rafe sat in his truck outside the unassuming brick building for longer than he’d care to admit, over two hours. The sign out front read “Coastal Therapy Center” in simple, soothing letters, but nothing about this felt soothing.

Therapy. 

If someone had told him just three months ago he’d be here, he would have laughed in their face. Therapy was for weak people, that was what Ward Cameron had drilled into him since he was a kid. It was the kind of shit he’d spent his whole life avoiding because, what was the point? Nothing ever changed. Not for him, not for his so-called family.

After his mom died, Ward’s solution was to bury it—all of it. Grief, pain, confusion. “Camerons don’t cry,” he’d said. “We keep moving forward.” But what if forward felt like walking through hell?

The door felt impossibly far away, but he knew he had to get out.

“Get your shit together man,” he muttered under his breath.

He could hear his dad’s voice in his head, unforgiving. Weak. Pathetic. That same voice had driven him for years, pushed him to be stronger, tougher, to bury every fucking thing he felt. But it wasn’t Ward’s voice that mattered now, it was yours, the Picture of your eyes shining with tears the last time you’d spoken to him.

He glanced at the building again, still not knowing if he believed in it, if it could fix whatever was broken inside him. But he did know one thing: if he didn’t at least try, he’d lose you for good.

Rafe exhaled sharply, shoving open the truck door, but before he walked it, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. His fingers fumbled with the lighter, the flame sputtering before finally catching. He took a drag, the smoke burning his lungs in a way that almost felt good.

He exhaled slowly, watching the gray wisps disappear into the air. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. He should just leave. Get back in the truck, drive somewhere, anywhere but here. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked back to the door. One foot in front of the other, he told himself, although it felt like walking to his own execution.The waiting room was quiet, with soft music playing in the background. 

He hated it already. He didn’t belong here, but he chose to stay, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt like a bitch. He couldn’t stop his legs from bouncing as he waited for the receptionist to notice him.

When she eventually looked up and smiled, he nodded stiffly, avoiding her. He didn’t want her kindness. Didn’t deserve it. Rafe wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say when he walked into that first session. 

He didn’t know how to explain the mess, the voices in his head, the anger that raged over and the guilt that followed like a shadow. But he knew why he was here.

When the therapist finally called his name, Rafe hesitated for half a second before standing. She looked normal enough—glasses, sweater, clipboard—but it still made his skin crawl. He felt like she could see through him, as if she already knew all the shit he’d done and thought and didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially himself.

“Rafe?” she called again, her voice patient. He didn’t deserve that either, but he nodded and followed her to the room.

It was small, the kind of place that made him feel like a caged animal, he sat on the couch because what the hell else was he supposed to do, and stared at the floor, picking at a thread on his jeans.

“So,” she started, sitting across from him, crossing her legs like this was just a normal conversation. “What brings you here today?”

 “Huh, what doesn’t?” he said before he could stop himself. He glanced up at her, half expecting her to kick him out right there.

But she didn’t, instead she simply nodded, like she got it, she’d heard worse. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s start with whatever feels the hardest.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. 

Where the fuck was he even supposed to start? His mom dying? His dad? The drugs, the fights, the hole he’d dug so deep he wasn’t sure he’d ever crawl out? Or maybe with you, with the way he’d pushed you away until you had no choice but to hate him?

“I don’t know,” he said finally. His eyes stayed glossed over on a spot on the carpet “I guess...uh, I should start with my mom, right? She died when I was fourteen. Leukemia.”

The therapist didn’t say anything, just nodded like she was giving him space to keep going. He hated the silence, how much it made him feel, but he kept going, because if he was going to do this shit right, he might as well not half-ass it.

““I’m sorry to hear that,” she said gently. “What do you remember most about her? What was she like?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, “She was… everything, y’know?” His throat felt sore, “I know everyone says that shit about their mom, but she really was. She was the one who kept everything together. When my dad was being—” 

He stopped short, his jaw twitching at how hard he bite his tongue.

“When he was being what?” the therapist prompted.

“When he was being him, she was the one who’d step in. She’d tell him to back off, that I was just a kid, or that I didn’t deserve whatever shit he was throwing at me that day. She was the only one who ever really had my back.”

“How did losing her affect your relationship with your dad?”

“It changed everything. When she got sick, it was like… I don’t know, like everything just fell apart. She was the glue, y’know? Without her, my dad just—he went full-on Ward Cameron.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he swallowed hard, “I remember the day she died,” he said after a long pause. “I thought I’d have more time. They kept saying it was bad, but I didn’t think it would happen that day. And then it did. Just like that.”

He rubbed his hands together, the motion frantic, restless. “I didn’t even cry. I just sat there, staring at the floor while my dad kept saying, ‘We’ll get through this. We’re Camerons. We don’t fall apart.’ And I was like, okay, I guess that’s what we’re doing then. Not falling apart. Just… moving forward.”

“What does that mean to you, ‘full-on Ward Cameron’?”

“It means he turned me into his fucking project.”

“Did he ever talk to you about what you were feeling? About how hard it was to lose her?” the therapist asked, her tone pointed.

“No,” Rafe said immediately,“My dad never wanted to talk about it. He acted like it was this... inconvenience. Yeah, he was sad, but he just buried it, wanted me to do the same.”

“What do you mean by that?” she prompted

Rafe let out a bitter laugh. 

“I’m the oldest, out of three. Not just the oldest— the only son. Wen she died, my dad decided I had to step up, be the man of the house. Take care of my sisters, keep everything running smoothly. Be his goddamn mini-me, like that was even possible. I was fourteen, but that shit didn’t matter. My dad expected me to bury all the shit I was feeling, I had to be twice as strong because I was the only man left.”

“How did that make you feel?” she asked, her tone measured but firm.

“How do you think it made me feel?” he snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He sighed, leaning forward again and dropping his head into his hands. “Shit, sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” she nodded, not the least bit fazed, “But I think it’s important to answer that question. How did it make you feel?”

“Like shit,” he admitted after a long pause. “I couldn’t do anything right. I was pissed at him for putting all of that on me, pissed at my sister for needing me, pissed at her for dying and leaving me with all this. And most of all, pissed at myself because no matter what I did, it was never enough. Not for him, not for me.”

“Do you think you could have stopped it?” the therapist asked softly.

Rafe’s head snapped up at that, but then he shook his head. “No,” he admitted, “I know I couldn’t, it wasn’t my fault. But it felt like it was, if I’d been better—smarter, stronger—she would’ve stayed. Or at least… she would’ve been proud of me for trying.”

He hasn't said it out loud since that night, with you.

She pursed her lips, as she took notes, “You should give yourself more credit, for how much you’ve survived.”

“Credit? For what? Being a fuck-up?”

She barely looked up from her notebook, changing the direction of her questions, “What do you think your mom would say to you now, if she could?” 

Rafe’s throat tightened, and he looked away, “I don’t know. Fuck, maybe... maybe she’d say she’s proud of me for being here. For trying to fix it, even if I should’ve done it years ago,” He paused, swallowing hard. “She probably would think I’m a fucking idiot, I pushed away the one person who actually fucking mattered.”

“Who’s that?” the therapist asked gently.

“My girlfriend,” He bit his tongue, the word stinging, “Ex-girlfriend now, I guess. After my dad died, I just—I started pushing her away. Picking fights over Ward, shutting her out when she tried to help me see the truth about him,” He swallowed hard, his throat burning. 

He hadn’t expected to feel this vulnerable, but now that he’d started talking about you, about what he’d ruined, it was hard to stop.

“She’s the one, y’know?” he muttered, his voice distant as though he was speaking to himself more than anyone else. “I fucked it all up.”

“What happened?”

Rafe let out a shaky breath.

“I was an asshole. I told her I didn’t need her, that she should just leave, like it wasn’t me who was the fuckin’problem. She did—she left, thought if I cut her loose or pushed her away, maybe I wouldn’t feel so fucking broken. Maybe if I wasn’t constantly looking at her and seeing everything I couldn’t be, I could... I don’t know. Get my shit together or some bullshit.” He rubbed his temples, frustration mounting “But then, like a fucking idiot, I started seeing someone else. All I could think about was how much it would hurt her if she found out. And it did.” His voice cracked, “It fucking destroyed her, I knew it would. That’s the worst part—I fucking knew, and I still let it happen, like the selfish piece of shit I am.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes, hoping it could block out the memory of you—your tear-streaked face.

“What do you think that relationship was about?”

His fists clenched again, “A distraction? I thought if I just... started fresh, started with someone who didn’t know all my baggage, someone who wouldn’t make me feel like I was constantly failing, I could just... forget. Forget everything. Forget her, forget my dad, forget how fucked up I was.”

“And did it help you forget?” she asked, her voice steady, but full of understanding.

“No,” He gritted out, “I couldn’t stop thinking about her, even when I was with someone else. Every time I closed my eyes, it was her face I saw. Her voice I heard in my head, telling me I could do better, be better. Shit, all I could do was prove her wrong.”

The therapist leaned forward slightly, her expression compassionate. “It sounds like she means a great deal to you.”

“Talking about her,” He paused, wincing as if he was in physical pain, “She’s just—fuck, man—she’s always in my head. It’s worse than talking about my parents, worse than remembering my mom dying or my dad. Because with them, it’s just... loss, y’know? Her? I had her, she was there. She loved me, and I ruined it.”

“What do you think she would say to you now, if she could hear this?” the therapist suggested, “You don’t have to think about it, if you don’t want to.”

Rafe���s breath hitched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He chuckled, but it came out jagged “Shit, that sounded real fuckin’ pathetic, huh? I can’t even talk about her without losing my shit.”

“It’s not pathetic. Give it a try.”

“I don’t know,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his noise, “That it’s too late? She’s done with me, and I deserve it. I think she’d still tell me to get my shit together and she’s proud of me for trying, even if I’m still the same fucked-up mess I was when she left, even if she hates me. That’s the kind of person she is.” His throat tightened again, and he looked away. “But even if she did, it doesn’t change the fact that I broke her heart.”

The therapist let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again. “It’s clear that you’re carrying a lot of pain, not just from losing her, but from how you see yourself in all of this. Have you ever thought about what it might look like to forgive yourself?”

“Forgive myself?” Rafe repeated, his voice incredulous. He shook his head, scoffing. “I don’t even... know what that would look like, y’know?” His leg started bouncing again, the restless energy coursing through him. “How do you even do that? Is there, uh, like, a fucking manual or something for that shit?” His voice cracked on the last word, and he shook his head, “I keep replaying it. All the shit I said to her.”

The therapist didn’t say anything, just watched him, her expression poised. He hated that, how calm she was when he felt like he was losing it.

He huffed, leaning back against the couch. “I mean, yeah, maybe that’s why I’m here. I don’t even know where to fucking start. It’s just—fuck, it’s just a lot. Too much.”

“It’s a lot of guilt for just one person, Rafe,” she pointed out, “Your mom, your dad, your relationship. And I think you’re right—talking about it won’t change the past, but it might help you figure out how to move forward.”

He scoffed “Yeah, okay. Move forward. Sounds easy enough.”

“It’s not easy,” she admitted. “But it’s possible. You don’t have to figure it all out today, or even next month.” 

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“You’ve already started,” she pointed out. “You’re here.”

You’re here. 

Those two words rattled around in his skull. He was here, but why? To make himself feel better? To prove to himself—or you—that he could do this, could change? Did he even believe that?

He thought about the nights he spent pacing his room, phone in hand, your number glowing on the screen. He’d wanted to call, to apologize, to beg, but he couldn’t. What would he even say? 

Rafe let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping, his foot tapping out an uneven rhythm. He didn’t have it in him to argue, not anymore. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I’m here.”

He was there, sure, but the room still felt small, the air dirty, his own body too restless to sit still for another second. His hands clenched into fists against his thighs, his nails biting into the fabric of his levi’s.

“You say you’re a mess, but you’re here,” the therapist said after a moment, her tone even. “You’re talking about it, trying to figure out what went wrong and what you can do to make it right. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s given up.”

He wanted her to push, to give him a reason to bolt out of there, to justify why this whole thing was a stupid mistake. But she didn’t, she was waiting like she had all the time in the world.

“Why’s it gotta be like this, huh? Why does everything have to hurt so f-fucking much? Why can’t I just... be normal? Like everyone else?”

“Normal is a lot more complicated than it looks. What does ‘normal’ mean to you?”

He scoffed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know. Not waking up every day feeling like... like there’s this weight on my chest.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze firm but not invasive. “That sounds exhausting.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to my life,” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like... I can’t turn it off, y’know?” He gestured vaguely at himself, at the space around him. “It’s just there. Always.”

“You mentioned earlier that you feel like you’re not enough,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “Not enough for who?”

“For anyone,” he said immediately, then paused, his throat tightening. “For my dad, for my sisters... for her. I mean, shit, if I can’t even be enough for me, how the fuck am I supposed to be enough for anyone else?”

The therapist smiled faintly, not unkindly. “That’s what we’re here to understand.”

Two hours later and 300$ short, his phone buzzed on the passenger seat, the screen lighting up with two missed calls and a flood of texts. All from Topper. 

Rafe grabbed the phone, unlocking it with his thumb and scrolling through the messages.

Topper: “Bro. SOS.” “I think she hates me.” “Like, actually hates me.” “Call me back. This is a situation.”

He huffed out a breath, tossing the phone back onto the seat. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Topper’s idea of a crisis was probably that your coffee order had foam when you wanted oat milk or some shit.

Rafe rubbed his temples knowing he wasn’t exactly in a position to play mediator. 

The last call came in five minutes ago, he muttered, “What the fuck did you do now?” and hit the call button.

Topper picked up on the first ring.

“Rafe!” Topper’s voice was a mess— frantic, breathless, like he’d just run a marathon. “Okay, okay, it’s official—she’s gonna kill me or us—”

“Top, what the fuck are you talking about?” He snapped, already annoyed.

“I—uh—Did you tell her I told you?” Topper stammered. “Because she blocked me, everywhere. She told me, ‘Never speak to me again,’ and blocked me! I’m dead. She’s gonna cut me off for good, man.”

Rafe bit the inside of his cheek, “I didn’t, but Sarah knows you know.”

“Why would you tell her?” Topper grumbled out, “You know she hates me too. She’s the enemy.”

“She’s my sister you fuckin’ idiot.”

“Semantics.”

Rafe leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling of his truck. He wanted to hang up, but Topper’s desperation was almost pathetic enough to make him stick around

His friend fell silent for a moment. Then, quietly: “You think she’s gonna be okay? I mean, with everything?”

“I don’t know. But she’s strong. She’s gonna do what she needs to do—whether we’re in the picture or not.”

Topper swallowed audibly. “So… what do I do?”

Rafe sighed, “Give her space. Just… back off and let her come to you. If she even wants to.”

“It’s kinda crazy, right? Asking you for advice? For the longest time, you were public enemy number one. You, the big, bad ex who broke her heart.” Topper’s laugh was nervous, he knew he was pushing it but couldn’t stop himself. “Now she hates me more. Like, I dethroned you. That’s wild.”

 “Yeah, hilarious,” he muttered.

Topper either didn’t catch the sarcasm or chose to ignore it. “A real plot twist. I knew I’d screw up eventually, but I didn’t think I’d ever top your record.”

“Topper,” Rafe growled, “this isn’t a fuckin’ joke. You don’t even know the half of it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You mean, like… she really hates you, or…?”

Wow.

Rafe clicked his tongue in annoyance, “The fuck you think?”

"Wait, wait," Topper said quickly, his voice climbing. "You still haven’t asked her? Confirmed all this? What if I—what if I misunderstood or something?"

His eyes squeezed shut, as if the sheer force of Topper’s stupidity might give him an aneurysm. "Yeah, fuckin' genius. Because it’s so easy to ask someone who won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me."

"Okay, okay, fair," Topper admitted, “Your sister could’ help.”

“Again Top, be fucking serious.”

"Yeah, okay, nevermind. But what if it’s not true? What if I made things worse for no reason?"

"You did make things worse," Rafe snapped, his patience hanging by a thread. "You’re lucky she hasn’t shown up at your door to shoot you.”

"Not helping, dude," Topper muttered, then hesitated. "So… what’re you gonna do? I mean, if she won’t talk to you, if Sarah won’t fess up, how’re you gonna know for sure? What if she really is—y’know—and you’re just sitting here like a dumbass, waiting for a miracle?"

Rafe opened his eyes, staring blankly at the dashboard. Topper wasn’t wrong, but hearing it said out loud made his stomach burn, especially after he just spent a good fucking hour talking about you, pouring his feelings out to a stranger he paid for.

Was he wasting time—time you needed him to be stepping up?

"I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, okay? I want to know, but—she’s got every right to hate me, man. How am I supposed to just… show up and ask her something like that, huh?”

Topper exhaled loudly, his usual bravado replaced with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "Yeah, I guess you’re kinda in a lose-lose situation. Damn. That’s rough, bro."

"Thanks for the insight. Real helpful," Rafe grumbled, running a hand over his face.

“She’s blocking me, she’s not talking to you—you think she’s just gonna wake up one day and decide to make it easy for us? For you?"

Rafe sighed, "No. She’s not."

"So… what’s the move?"

Rafe stared out the windshield, his heart pounding in his chest. What was the move? He didn’t have an answer.

"Guess I’ll figure it out," he said finally, voice rough around the edges.

Topper hummed thoughtfully. "Well, uh, good luck with that. And, y’know, if you figure it out… let me know if I’m, like, still alive in her eyes or if I should start preparing for witness protection."

Rafe rubbed his forehead, trying to avoid the headache that was building behind his eyes. "You’re on your own there.”

"Fair," Topper said lightly, “Shit, this is depressing. We should go on a boat ride tomorrow.”

A boat day? He could almost hear the suggestion in Topper's voice: a desperate, half-hearted attempt to get away from it all.

"Yeah," Rafe hummed, "Maybe.”

"Seriously, though, it might help," Topper said, but he could tell the guy was genuinely losing it, "Get out on the water, clear our heads, get some space.”

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at the dashboard “Space,” he repeated hollowly. Empty. "Yeah, I guess.”

Topper's voice came through again, sounding more serious "Just don't stay in your head too long, man. Don't get stuck there. You deserve a break too.”

Maybe the boat ride was the kind of distraction he needed to stop the spiral he’d been going down over the past few days. To stop thinking about all the things he couldn’t fix right now.

"Alrigh’, we’ll do the boat thing."

Topper, as if relieved that Rafe was playing along, responded with a chuckle. “Sweet. I’ll get the cooler ready. It’ll be good. I’ll try not to drive you completely insane.”

“Don’t make any promises,” He rolled his eyes, feeling the tension in his body soothe slightly, though it was still there—a bruise that hadn't healed.

The call ended shortly after, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

He glanced at the phone, the notifications still lighting up with messages from Topper. He barely glanced at them, his mind turning instead to you, as always. To the things he should have said, the things he should have done. To the feeling of you slipping farther away, out of his reach, out of his life.

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore, didn’t know how to fix any of this. 

He just knew that at least for a little while, he wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts.

You were at ponguelandia again for the night, it wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Sarah had insisted, practically dragged you here after hearing about your “severe anemia” situation. Add the fact that carrying the baby could fuck up your health to the point where you’d be bedridden for the rest of your life (or worse), and it was a recipe for a meltdown. 

You couldn’t be alone right now, not after all that. Being around people was better than being alone. 

Her and John B were being everything you needed, so you’d put on a happy face and pretend you weren’t dying inside. They were doing their whole supportive couple thing, and it was almost everything you needed—if it weren’t also so annoyingly them. Could they be more in love? Probably not. It was nauseating in the best and worst way, watching the life you could’ve had with someone else if things had turned out differently.

Then there was Kie and JJ. They were around, too, in their usual JJ-and-Kie way: watching you, but not prying, holding back out of respect—or pity. They knew you’d passed out on the beach two weeks ago and that you were “sick,” but Sarah had spared them the details. Small blessings, you guessed.

You were trying your best to keep up the whole "everything’s fine" act, but it was getting exhausting. Sarah had been the one who knew the real story—about the anemia, the baby, the complications—and she was the only one who knew how much of a mess you were in.

You’d asked her not to tell any of them. That didn’t make the pretending any easier. All they knew was that you were feeling a little under the weather, run-down, nothing too serious. You didn’t want to tell them. They’d never understand, not in the way you needed him to. Not when the issue was...everything.

You were curled up on the couch in their messy living room, a blanket thrown over your legs, you were trying to hide under it. You were just tired of pretending you weren’t falling apart inside. But you could do it for Sarah, she deserved to have a normal night, one that wasn’t filled with you sobbing in her arms. 

John B was sitting on the other side of the couch, there was an awkward space between you two. Not in a bad way, just... you didn’t really know him. He and Rafe had a history, to say things were tense between them was an understatement. But you liked him for Sarah, he treated her right. 

That was more than you could say for a lot of people in her life, so... here you were.

Kie was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, holding a bottle of something that definitely wasn’t soda, while JJ sprawled across the floor by her feet. John B had his arm slung casually around Sarah, who was perched on the couch between you and him, her body half-turned toward you as if she were ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. 

Always watching, always waiting.

JJ tossed a pretzel at Kiara, which she caught without looking up.

“So, tomorrow’s the big day,” he announced, grinning like a kid.

Kie rolled her eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“To you,” he shot back, pointing dramatically. “To me? Monumental. Legendary. Historic.”

Sarah groaned. “He’s talking about the party,” she explained, bracing for your reaction.

“What party?” you asked, already regretting the question.

“Just a little thing at Poguelandia,” John B said casually, brushing popcorn crumbs off his jeans. “Bonfire, some drinks, a couple of people. Nothing crazy, it's promotional."

 “A couple of people? Dude, half the island’s gonna show up.”

John B shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “It’s not a party unless it’s packed.”

“Exactly,” JJ said, leaning back on his elbows. “You have to come. It’s gonna be sick.”

You made a face, “I’m not really in a party mood.”

Sarah turned to you immediately, her eyes wide and full of meaning. The look. The one that said, C’mon, you need this.

“It’d be fun,” she pouted, “You could use a little fun right now.”

“I’m fine,” you said, avoiding her eyes and focusing on the popcorn in your lap. “I don’t need a party to cheer me up.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. Just a chill day. You won’t even have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to.”

“And there’ll be drinks,” JJ added with a wink. “Or, you know, drink-adjacent options for those who can’t hang.”

For a second, your stomach almost dropped. Did he know? The way he said it—so casually—it almost felt like he did. It felt like he was teasing you in that obnoxious JJ way, but with an awareness that made you want to crawl out of your skin. But then logic kicked in.

They didn’t know. Not about the baby, at least. As far as they were concerned, you were just sick. Which, to be fair, you were. “Drink-adjacent” made sense because no one expected you to down shots when you could barely keep yourself upright most days.

Still, the comment made you uneasy, and your fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.

“Right,” you grimaced, your voice stiff. “Because nothing says ‘party’ like seltzer water.”

“That’s the spirit. We’ll even get the fancy kind, with lime or whatever. Really roll out the red carpet for you.”

Kie snorted. “You’re so generous, JJ.”

“Hey, I’m a man of the people baby,” he said, throwing his hands up like he was defending his honor.

Sarah nudged you again, harder this time, and you glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. She was giving you that look again, the one that screamed, Just say yes already.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” you muttered, aiming for annoyed but landing somewhere closer to resigned.

“Nope,” she said brightly.

You sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

JJ whooped, pumping a fist in the air like you’d just agreed to crown him king of the Pogues. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“I didn’t say I was going. I said I’d think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving you off like the details didn’t matter. “Thinking about it is basically saying yes.” JJ grinned at you, “But y’know,” he started, pointing a lazy finger in your direction, “it’s still kind of insane that you’re here. The literal kook of the kooks.”

You rolled your eyes, “And yet, here I am. Stuck with the pogues. Truly the highlight of my life.”

“Admit it. You love it. The... gritty charm.”

“Right,” you casted a skeptical glance around the room. “Because who wouldn’t love the charm of beer-stained furniture, half-empty snack bags, and... whatever that smell is?” You wrinkled your nose for effect, though you weren’t entirely joking.

The place was a dump.

John B chuckled from his corner of the couch, tossing a piece of popcorn at JJ. “She’s not wrong, man. This place barely qualifies as livable.”

“Livable?” JJ looked mock-offended, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “This is prime real estate! You kooks don’t appreciate the artistic chaos.”

Kiara looked up from her phone. “It’s chaos, all right.”

Sarah leaned toward you, her voice low and teasing. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just salty you make this place look like a dump by comparison.”

“Please,” JJ cut in, leaning forward, “This place looks like a dump because it is a dump. But it’s our dump.” He grinned, flicking his eyes back to you. “And now, apparently, it’s yours too. Welcome to the family, kook princess.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “Don’t get used to it.”

JJ clutched his chest again. “Ouch. Cold. But fair.”

The truth was, you did think the place was terrible. 

Objectively, it was, you already knew that since last week.

The furniture didn’t match, the walls had stains you didn’t want to think too hard about, and everything felt sticky, even if it wasn’t. You were used to perfect beachfront properties with matching decor and staff that catered to your every whim. This? It was a wreck.

But at the same time, there was something about it that felt... alive. The chaos wasn’t just chaos—it was theirs. The mismatched furniture, the random surfboards propped in corners, the lived-in feel of a space that wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It made you hate it and love it all at once.

Your eyes flicked to Kie, who rolled hers at JJ but couldn’t hide her smile. He said something under his breath, too quiet for anyone else to hear, and she shoved his shoulder in mock annoyance. He grinned at her, that lazy grin he probably didn’t even realize he saved just for her. And she was trying so hard to look unimpressed, but her expression softened anyway, she couldn’t help herself.

Sarah caught you looking and smirked, nudging you. “Cute, right?” she whispered.

You gave her a half-smile, more honest this time. “Annoyingly so.”

JJ, oblivious to the exchange, flopped onto his back. “I don’t know why you all keep insulting my hospitality. If this was a five-star resort, it wouldn’t have vibes.”

“Yeah, vibes of a condemned building,” you grumbled back, unable to help yourself.

And when everyone laughed—Kie’s chuckle, Sarah’s giggle, JJ’s full-blown cackle—you hated yourself a little for loving it here, even as you pretended you didn’t.

Would things have been different if you hadn’t been born a Kook?

The thought hit you out of nowhere, unwelcomely, like it always did when you let your guard down. Would your family still be alive if you weren’t wrapped up in the trappings of wealth and privilege? If your dad hadn’t been able to afford that stupid private jet, if your mom hadn’t insisted on using it for every family trip, if your sister hadn’t tagged along on that one last flight...

It was a cruel, useless spiral of what-ifs that never went anywhere but still had you choking on guilt every time. Because it wasn’t just the money. It was the whole stupid kook world—the private schools, the country clubs, the constant need to show off and be better than everyone else. That world had shaped your family, pushed them into the roles they played, and it had been the death of them, literally and figuratively.

You wondered, not for the first time, if they would’ve been safer if you’d all been normal. Just some middle-class family driving to vacations in an old station wagon, complaining about rest-stop food and fighting over the radio. Maybe your parents wouldn’t have been so busy, and maybe your sister wouldn’t have been on that flight at all.

Your throat burned, and you blinked hard, trying to push the thoughts back where they belonged. The pogues were still talking, still laughing, completely unaware of the war blazing in your head.

“You’re lucky to be here, kook princess. You’re getting the real-life experience.”

You forced a weak smile, still staring at the popcorn. “The real-life experience.”

If this was real life, you thought bitterly, maybe you wouldn’t have so much to regret. Maybe you’d still have them. Maybe you’d even know who you were outside of the perfect, shiny bubble you’d grown up in—one that had popped so catastrophically you were still finding pieces of it in your skin.

Maybe if you hadn’t been born a kook, you wouldn’t have met Rafe when you were kids. You wouldn’t have been his best friend, wouldn’t have spent your whole childhood trailing after him, clinging to every crooked smile and reckless dare like they were proof that you mattered.

You wouldn’t have fallen in love with him at sixteen, back when you thought love meant him driving you to the beach in his dad’s truck, his hand on your thigh, telling you you were the only person who really got him. You wouldn’t have had your heart broken by him now, when he was with someone else. Your hand drifted to your stomach, a subconscious gesture that made your breath hitch. You wouldn’t be pregnant with his kid, either. Or sick.

You’d built this whole life around him without even realizing it.

Would it have been better? Not having Rafe at all?

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to imagine a version of your life where he’d never existed, where you didn’t have his name carved into your heart. Where you weren’t here now, still loving him. Where you weren’t pregnant and alone while he was somewhere else.

The truth—the awful, undeniable truth—was that you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

For all the ways he’d broken you, Rafe had been the one to hold you together when everything else fell apart, the one who pulled you out of bed when you couldn’t find the strength, who made you laugh when you thought you’d forgotten how.

If it weren’t for him, you didn’t know if you’d even be here now.

And you wouldn’t trade the sound of his laugh for anything in the world. Not the condescending biting one he used to throw around when he was being an ass, but the real one, the one that came out when he was caught off guard. 

Even if you hated him, you couldn’t regret him. Not all the way. Not enough to wish he’d never been in your life. Despite all of it—he’d been there when no one else was, that was enough to keep him tethered to your heart, even now, when you wished it wasn’t.

“Earth to princess,” Kiara's voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back to the dimly lit room and the blanket over your legs. She waved a hand in front of your face, “You still with us, or are you planning your escape route?”

You forced a smile, “Just trying to figure out how I got roped into your weird little cult, that’s all.”

They laughed, the sound was bright enough to pull you out of your head, just for a moment. It wasn’t the same as Rafe’s laugh, but it was something. Right now, you’d take it.

When you woke up, the house was already buzzing. 

The pogues were up and at it, setting up for whatever party they had planned. You’d slept in, which wasn’t like you, but Sarah had all but forced you to stay in bed last night, insisting you needed the rest. She’d even made John B sleep on the couch so you could take his spot in their bed. You felt bad—guilty, really—you tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but Sarah was Sarah. Stubborn, loyal, annoyingly sweet Sarah.

The morning, however, had been nothing short of a disaster.

You barely made it out of bed before you were sprinting to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet like you’d had one too many shots at a party the night before. Except, this wasn’t from partying—it was the fucking morning sickness. Thank God everyone else was outside setting up, or you’d have to deal with their questions.

You stayed in the bathroom longer than you wanted to, rinsing your mouth out and glaring at yourself in the mirror like your reflection was to blame for your misery. Your hair was a mess, your skin looked pale. You looked like shit.

To make matters worse, the house was painfully loud. Every noise from outside echoed through the shitty walls, stabbing into your head. The party. Where everyone would be drinking, laughing, and probably noticing that you were the only one sitting in a corner looking like you’d been hit by a train.

Groaning, you wiped your face with a cold washcloth. “Fuck,” you complained under your breath, glaring at yourself in the mirror. 

You grabbed the bottle of pre-natal vitamins from your bag, the ones that looked like horse pills, and twisted off the cap. The nausea was already crawling up your throat again, and the last thing you wanted was to shove a giant vitamin down your stomach.

You didn't have much of a choice. You needed it, not just for the baby, but because of the anemia. If you didn't stay on top of it, you’d end up worse than you felt now—and that was already a nightmare you were trying to avoid.

You stared at the pill in your hand, mentally preparing yourself.

“Just swallow it,” you muttered, willing yourself into doing it. It took a moment, but you finally threw it back. You chased it down with a sip of water, grimacing as it settled in your stomach. It felt like you were choking on a rock, and you had to fight to keep your stomach from revolting all over again.

For a while, you sat back on the edge of the bed, elbows on your knees, head in your hands, hating the lingering taste of bile in your mouth even after your oral hygiene.

You let yourself fall back, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily, pressing a hand to your stomach, not out of affection but frustration.

"I’m trying here, okay? Can you at least meet me halfway?" you muttered.

The distant noises and commotion from outside seeped in through the window, but it only made you feel more isolated. You reached for your phone, scrolling aimlessly through notifications you didn’t care about. A text from Sarah popped up: "Take your time. We’ve got it covered out here.”

You tossed the phone aside, rubbing your temples. You wished you could just stay here all day, curled up under the covers, but the thought of Sarah’s concerned face, of the inevitable questions and glances, made that impossible. You were tired of being a problem, tired of being the fragile one everyone tiptoed around.

You sighed, knowing there was no way you’d make it through this day without looking like total crap. You grabbed a hoodie from the back of the door, tossed your hair up into a bun, and made your way downstairs.

You found her in the kitchen, already pouring drinks and bossing JJ and Pope around. She spotted you lingering in the doorway and waved you off before you could say anything.

“Nope,” she shook her head, clicking her tongue at you like you were a misbehaving child. “Don’t even think about it. Go sit down. Rest. It’s gonna be a long day, and you need it, okay?”

You blinked at her, then at the mess around the house. Decorations were half-done outside, the tables and counter were an explosion of snacks, and JJ was currently trying to balance three folding chairs in one hand like a party trick. Kie was arguing with John B about where the cooler should go, and Sarah was somehow keeping it all from falling apart.

You leaned against the doorway, hand still on your stomach, glaring at her as she poured some sort of drink into a plastic cup. “You could’ve woken me up. I’m not completely useless.”

Sarah spun around, eyebrows raised and gave you a look that could kill. “Uh, no, you don’t get to complain. I let you sleep in because you need it, and I’m not about to let you overdo it, okay.”

You sighed, leaning against the counter. “I feel like a freeloader right now.”

“You’re not a freeloader,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. “You’re my sister. And you’ve been through... a lot. So just chill. We’ve got this.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re pregnant, which means you’re officially on my do-not-let-her-do-anything list. Now go sit your ass down before I make one of them carry you.”

“Don’t drag them into this,” you muttered, but you were already giving up the fight. Sarah was like a pit bull when she made up her mind, and there was no arguing with her. You nodded reluctantly, letting her win this one. It wasn’t like you had the energy to argue anyway.

Outside, the rest of the group was scattered around the yard, setting up for what promised to be a classic pogues-style party. Pope and Cleo had arrived at some point; Pope was trying to figure out how to hang a string of lights between two trees, while Cleo stood nearby, holding a roll of tape and offering sarcastic commentary.

“Maybe if you’d let me do it, we wouldn’t be out here for an hour,” Cleo teased, tilting her head.

“And maybe if you didn’t talk so much, I could concentrate, baby.”

JJ was dragging a cooler across the sand, muttering something about how “beer doesn’t carry itself,” while Kie followed behind him, laughing and tossing bags of chips into a pile on the picnic table.

Sarah joined you on the porch, a can of sparkling water in her hand. “See? We’ve got it under control,” she said, gesturing to the scene in front of you. “Now, sit down, relax, and enjoy the show.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about you? Aren’t you gonna take your own advice?”

Sarah grinned, “I’ll relax when the party starts. For now, my mission is to make sure you don’t lift a finger.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” she replied, linking her arm through yours.

And she wasn’t wrong. As much as you hated being doted on, it was hard not to appreciate everything she’d been doing for you.

Cleo spotted you from across the yard and waved, her smile wide and warm. “Yo! You gonna come hang out or just stand there looking pretty?”

“Both,” JJ called out, smirking as he cracked open a beer.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. 

“I said pretty, rude boy. It doesn’t include your ass.”

“Cleo, you wound me. I thought we had something special.”

“Yeah, it’s called my patience, and it’s runnin’ real thin,” Cleo yelled back, smirking as she handed Pope the tape. “Here. Fix your mess before the whole damn tree comes down.”

Pope muttered something under his breath but took the tape anyway, climbing back onto the ladder. “You could’ve just done this yourself if you were so sure about it.”

“And rob you of the chance to prove me wrong? Never,” Cleo quipped, crossing her arms as she stepped back to watch him work.

The two of you headed toward the table where Kie was busy arranging snacks, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“How are we still out of guac?” She muttered, her tone more annoyed than concerned. “I swear I made enough to feed an army.”

“Your boyfriend happened,” Sarah said without missing a beat. “I saw him sneak off with a bowl earlier.”

Kie groaned, hands on her hips as she glared at the blonde boy, who was now lounging in a chair with his feet propped up on the cooler.

“You are a menace to society.”

“And yet, here I am, invited to all your parties,” JJ replied, raising his beer in a mock toast. 

Kie grabbed a chip and threw it at him, hitting him square in the forehead, "It's your party too, dick."

“Guys,” Pope called out from the ladder, sounding exasperated. “Can someone just hold the other end of the lights? I’m not trying to die out here.”

“I got it,” Cleo said, strolling over and grabbing the string of lights. “Don’t let go of that tape, or you’re on your own.”

Cleo had finally climbed up the ladder with Pope, muttering something sarcastic, only for him to pull her into a quick kiss that made her giggle.

It wasn’t long before everyone started getting ready for the party. It was only around 3:30, but you could tell everyone was in full-on prep mode, running around and grabbing last-minute things. You figured you should probably start getting ready, too, if you wanted to make it to the party without looking completely out of it.

You escaped, fully aware that Sarah would check on you soon if you didn’t start moving. Sitting on the bed, you scrolled aimlessly for outfit inspiration, but everything felt wrong—too tight, too flashy, or too… not you. You hadn’t exactly packed for a pogues-style party, and the thought of showing up in your worn-out jeans or one of John B’s oversized T-shirts made you shudder.

Sarah’s closet caught your eye, the door slightly ajar. A beacon of decent fashion that you knew was still hiding in there, despite her efforts to shed the kook label. She still had a few relics from her old life, buried beneath tie-dye and frayed denim.

You’d teased her about it last week, calling her out for keeping a little piece of her former self tucked away. She’d rolled her eyes and said, “A girl’s gotta have options.”

Today, you needed those options.

You bypassed the flashier options in favor of something understated. Nestled between a linen sundress and a denim jacket was exactly what you needed: a simple, fitted black dress. It was sleeveless, with a subtle scoop neckline and a hemline that hit just above the knee. The fabric was soft and unassuming but hugged your frame just right, giving it a quietly polished look.

“This one,” you murmured, pulling it off the hanger. It wasn’t loud or overly attention-grabbing—more like the kind of dress that someone who didn’t need to try would wear. 

Elegant, minimal, perfect.

Sliding it on, you immediately felt the difference. It didn’t scream for attention, but it made you feel put together, which was exactly what you needed right now. You ran your hands over the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkles before stepping into a pair of nude sandals you’d found shoved in the back of the closet. Flat, simple, and mercifully easy to walk in.

Sarah popped her head in just as you were brushing your hair out into soft waves. “There she is,” she said, giving you a once-over. “God forbid you wear something ugly, huh?”

You tugged lightly at the hem of the dress. “I’m doing this closet justice.”

“You are. I forgot I even had that dress or I would've given it away."

“Thank God for that,” you replied, slipping on a simple gold bracelet you found on her dresser. “The pogues' style is great and all, but I have my limits.” You hadn’t even touched your makeup yet. With a sigh, you glanced at Sarah. “I’ll be ready in five.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t tease, already heading downstairs to check on the others. You glanced at the clock—it was almost party time, but you needed a few more minutes to look presentable.

You grabbed her makeup bag from her vanity and settled in front of the mirror. Starting with a light layer of foundation, you evened out your complexion. You weren’t trying to hide anything; you just needed to look less like you’d just rolled out of bed.

For the first time in what felt like years, you weren’t thinking about the baby. You weren’t worrying about keeping your secret from Rafe or everyone else around you. You weren’t wrapped up in the anxiety of it all. Instead, you were just doing something that felt simple, that belonged to your age—putting on makeup, getting ready for a party, like a normal twenty-year-old something woman.

This was the most normal you’d felt in months.

You’d been so consumed with everything pregnancy-related, trying to stay on top of your emotions while dealing with the fear of being found out. It was exhausting. You had forgotten what it felt like to be carefree, to be you—not just someone wrapped up in worry. There was something so familiar about it—the way the brush swept across your skin, the way you mixed your bronzer just right to highlight your cheekbones. It felt like the old you. Who knew this shit could be so therapeutic?

A soft sigh slipped from your lips. You needed more moments like this. Simple, easy moments where you didn’t have to think about the rest of the world. Just doing your makeup. Just getting dressed. Just being you—even for a little while.

When you made your way downstairs again, the mess had somehow multiplied. The house was alive with movement, and the sound of JJ yelling something unintelligible from the backyard. People had already started arriving—pogues, and a handful of kooks who never missed a good party. You spotted Sarah in the kitchen, pouring drinks into a massive punch bowl, looking entirely in her element.

You sidled up to Kie, who was setting out plates of food with military precision. “Hey, you need any help with this? Or anything, really?”

Kie glanced up, her brows shooting toward her hairline as she appraised you. “Is this the control freak in you?”

“Funny,” you deadpanned, leaning on the counter. “Seriously, though. Put me to work.”

She snorted, grabbing a handful of napkins and shoving them into your hands. “Fine. You can help set these out on the tables outside. But if Sarah catches you, this conversation didn’t happen.”

“Deal.” 

The yard looked like something out of a fever dream. String lights were half-strung between trees, chairs and tables were scattered everywhere. A cooler sat precariously close to tipping over, its contents already being raided by JJ, who was popping open another beer while Cleo scolded him for being “absolutely useless.”

You moved through the yard, laying out napkins and straightening plates, feeling some of the earlier tension and sleep deprivation ease from your back. It felt good to do something normal, something productive. By the time you circled back to the porch, Sarah was waiting for you, hands on her hips and a knowing look in her eyes. “I thought I told you to sit down.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Kie needed help. I’m fine.”

Sarah didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she handed you a cup of water and gestured toward one of the chairs on the porch. “At least pretend you’re taking it easy, okay? You’re gonna need your energy when this party really gets going.”

You rolled your eyes but took the seat, sipping the drink as you watched the guests buzz around the yard. 

Cleo and Kiara were already in tears laughing as JJ dramatically narrated Pope’s “world record attempt,” complete with fake announcer voice. By the time Pope finally flipped upside down with his help, everyone was cheering loud enough to drown out the music blasting from the backyard speakers.

JJ was yelling something about “legendary keg stand form” as Pope balanced upside down on the keg, supported by Cleo and a very unenthused Kie.

It was hilarious watching his usually composed demeanor dissolve into giggles as beer dripped down his face, but even funnier was JJ hyping him up like this was the Olympics. “That’s my boy! New record! Somebody time this shit!”

You laughed, for once letting yourself enjoy the day. It felt good to be surrounded by fun, to not be caught up in your head for a change. Maybe Sarah had been right—you needed this.

For once, you were wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. It felt so good to do it too, to feel like you were part of something instead of just watching from the sidelines. You could breathe again.

Pope wobbled, barely lasting ten seconds before collapsing onto the grass. JJ threw his arms up like they’d just won the championship, shouting, “A legend was born tonight!”

You felt all the stress and heaviness you’d been dragging and moping around had finally been put on pause.

Then, subtle at first, a tickle at the back of your neck, a whisper of unease. You moved around on the railing, trying to shake it off. You glanced around, casually at first, scanning the crowd. Everyone seemed caught up in something—JJ was on his third keg stand attempt, Kie and Cleo were busy arguing over the playlist, and the rest of the partygoers were either dancing or clustered around the fire pit.

Nothing out of the ordinary. You tried to ignore it at first, brushing it off as your brain’s way of being a buzzkill. It had a way of doing that—ruining a perfectly good night with its tendency to overanalyze everything.  You were having a good time, and you weren’t about to let paranoia ruin it.

But then you spotted her, Sofia.

She was standing near the back door, lit by the string lights strung across the porch, holding a beer cup. And she was staring at you.

Not just a quick glance, not the way someone looks when they’re zoning out. No. This was…staring. Your stomach twisted. This couldn’t be about you, she was just drunk and in her feelings or whatever. But there was something about the way she looked—sad, almost heartbroken—that made you want to bolt home.

You turned away, feeling like you couldn’t breathe, the night wasn’t as fun anymore. Maybe she wasn’t even looking at you. Except, you couldn’t shake it. You drained the rest of your water and headed inside to refill it, telling yourself you needed a second to breathe.

But of course, the second you stepped into the kitchen, Sofia was there.

She was crying—full-on crying—her mascara smudged and her cheeks streaked with tears. She was drunk, that much was obvious, so drunk she had to grab the counter.

Jesus.

 “Uh…? Are you okay?”

You weren’t Sofia’s biggest fan.

She had the love of your life—the guy you’d once thought was it for you—and that alone made it impossible to feel anything but complicated about her. Add to that the fact that she was a pogue, and… you’d never been friends.

The last thing you wanted to do tonight was play therapist, especially not for her. But she was still a girl, drunk and crying in the middle of a party, and no matter how much history—or lack thereof—existed between you, there was no way you were going to leave her like that.

You sighed, setting your cup down on the counter, “Do you need to sit down? Water?”

She only sobbed harder. Okay, not helping, noted.

“Hey, sit down,” you murmured, guiding her to the bench by the window. She didn’t resist, collapsing onto it.

Her eyes glassy and red. She looked up at you like you were the last person she wanted to see, but also, somehow, the only one she needed.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice cracked. “I shouldn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You crouched down in front of her, arms resting on your knees as you tried to figure out what the hell she meant. “What wasn’t supposed to happen? Did someone do something to you?”

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head hard enough to make her curls bounce. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just… it’s Rafe. He—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.

The second she said his name—Rafe—you already knew.

You didn’t know the details, didn’t need them, but you knew it was going to hurt like a bitch. That name always did.

Sofia’s voice cracked again, her words coming out between hiccuping breaths and slurred apologies, but you’d already braced yourself for whatever you were about to hear.

And yet, when she finally said it—he dumped me—it still felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water in your face.

What the fuck were you supposed to say to that?

"I’m not sure what you want me to do with this."

She flinched, her glassy eyes darting up to meet yours, but she didn’t say anything, just sniffled and stared at you like you had all the answers. You didn’t. Not for her.

"You’re upset, I get that," you continued, "But coming to me about Rafe? Really? What did you think was going to happen here?"

Her lip trembled, you thought she might start wailing again. "I—I didn’t plan this, okay? I just… I didn’t know who else to—"

On one hand, you felt bad for her.

How could you not? She was drunk, sobbing, in a way that felt painfully familiar. But on the other hand… what the fuck did she expect? She’d dated Rafe—your Rafe—knowing you were a six-year-long shadow she could never step out of.

She was with him knowing now she wanted you to what? Comfort her? Be her shoulder to cry on?

This wasn’t the time to be petty or mean, not when she was looking at you like you were the only person who could possibly understand.

“H-he dumped me,” she repeated, her voice cracking. “said… he said he’s not over you. That he c-can’t give me what I d-deserve because… because his heart’s still with you.”

You pursed your lips, a tangled knot of guilt, and something dangerously close to vindication swimming in your head.

Of course, it felt good to hear it—of course it did. But that didn’t make it easier to watch another girl fall apart in front of you because of him. As pathetic as it was, you knew what it felt like to be that girl.

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the snarky comment sitting on your tongue. As much as this whole thing screamed bad decision after bad decision, she was still here, crying her eyes out, and you weren’t heartless. Not entirely, anyway.

“I knew,” she whispered, “I knew he wasn’t over you. From the beginning. I thought I c-could… I don’t know. Change his mind?” She let out a choked sob. “I’m sittin' h-here, drunk and crying to you, of all people, because I d-didn’t li-isten to my gut when it told me to walk away. I’m sorry,” she blubbered, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. You probably hate me.”

You didn’t answer right away because, yeah, she wasn’t entirely wrong. You didn’t like her, that was for damn sure. But hate? Hate took too much energy.

You didn’t know what to say to that. Couldn’t say what you really thought—that she should’ve walked away, that no one could ever fill a space someone else left behind. So instead, you sat down beside her.

“I know it doesn’t help,” you said finally, “but it’s not your fault. Rafe… he’s complicated. He doesn’t know what he wants half the time, and even when he does, he’s too scared to hold on to it.”

She looked at you through teary eyes. “He held on to you for years.”

“Yeah. And look how that turned out.”

"If this is how I feel now, I can’t even imagine what you went through."

You bit your lip. She honestly thought this was the time for some heartfelt apology? God, bless her heart—no, scratch that, bless her delusions. She was standing there, looking like a wet mess, telling you she couldn’t imagine how you felt? If only she knew.

You sighed, grabbing a towel from the counter and tossing it at her. "Here. Fix your face. You look like you’ve been crying in a frat basement."

She caught the towel, her cheeks burning as she dabbed at her ruined makeup. "I—thanks," Her voice shook as she continued her drunk ramble, "I didn’t know... I didn’t realize how bad it hurt you."

You took a breath, part of you wanting to snap at her, tell her it was too little, too late. You could’ve easily unleashed all the venom you’d kept inside for so long. But then, there was that little voice in your head—one that, surprisingly, wasn’t making fun of her. You couldn’t be that cruel, you weren’t heartless, no matter how complicated things had gotten.

Sofia, in this state—drunk, emotional—didn’t deserve that. 

"You need to get your shit together, stop letting your entire world revolve around him.” You could see her flinch at that last part, but you weren’t done yet.

How ironic.

"You’re better than this. You don’t need a guy—especially Rafe—to make you feel whole. I learned something, and you’re going to learn it too. Life doesn’t revolve around some guy’s bullshit feelings. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be, put yourself first, always. I’ve been there. You’ve got to live with the fact that he chose someone else. It doesn’t matter if you did everything right—sometimes, it’s just not enough."

There was a part of you that really felt sorry for her, the part that was human, not just jaded from all the pain. But there was also a voice in your head saying, You don’t owe her understanding.

Loving Rafe Cameron could feel like the best and worst thing at the same time.

You watch her carefully, making sure she’s soaking it in. "You deserve better than a guy who doesn't know how to value you. And don’t get me wrong, I get it. We’ve all been there. You can’t fix him."

Sofia was still sniffling and wiping her eyes, catching her breath, maybe even trying to piece things together. You felt like you had done something... good? Maybe not good, but at least you’d been the bigger person, showing her a bit of mercy.

Before she could answer, the door creaked, and you both turned to see your cousin standing there. Instantly, all alarm bells went off in your head, your eyes narrowing instantly, hands searching for something to throw at his face.

"Topper," you spit out, the name coming out like acid, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

ooop- y'all not ready for chapter 12 heheheh

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[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mo' Money Mo' Problems

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.

“I am not calling him.”

“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”

“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”

“What in the world are you getting at?”

“Answer my question.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”

“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”

“I get it but..”

“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”

“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.

“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.

“Yes, obviously but not yet.”

“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”

“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.

“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”

“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”

“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”

Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.

“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.

“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too and Erin called me.”

“What? Why?”

She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.

“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”

“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”

“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”

“I…”

“Is that it?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.

“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”

“Yes?”

“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”

“Yes.”

“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”

“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”

“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.

“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”

“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.

“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.

“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”

“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”

“I…”

“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."

“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”

“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”

“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”

“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.

“Babeeeee.”

“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”

“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”

“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”

"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.

"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."

"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."

"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."

[eyelambspider]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 '𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝' 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐂𝐎𝐃

┊𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he shouldn't have any say in what you do... so then why does seeing you with this guy piss him off so much?

┊𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : könig, ghost, soap, gaz, price, horangi x operator!gn!reader ┊𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jealousy, unestablished relationships, swearing, hints of 'unwarranted' possessiveness ┊𝐚/𝐧 : thought i was dead?-heh

▹ König

König's day was going just about the same as every other, dull and moving through the halls of KorTac's base with purpose. Always a head taller than everyone, his mask hiding everything but the cold, tired eyes behind it. The bases' personnel and operators move by him in a blur, people parting instinctively to let him move past... nothing quite interesting until he hears a familiar laugh, like the sound of bells to his ears.

His head immediately turns to the right, and sure enough, there you are: a lingering smile brightening up your eyes, talking to a group of soldiers.

He watches the brief exchange that occurs in a matter of seconds.

You playfully shove a handsome man next to you, who shares your laugh, his face full of unbridled adoration, like a puppies. And when you turn to leave with a shake of your head, the man pipes up, watching you go. "See ya around then, babe."

The nickname sends a cold zing up the Colonel's spine, his whole body tensing in a manner that leaves him stunned; as if he'd been slapped in the face by that simple word. Unable to digest the new, ugly emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach, he just-stands there, wondering why the fuck that just got on his nerves. His fists balled so tightly that his gloves strain and the fabric squeaks in protest.

▹ Simon "Ghost" Riley

The mission was over, for now.

The Lieutenant had seen you take a hit out there, nothing too serious, but in the buzz and frantic 'running arounds' of medics and soldiers after the extraction helo had landed... he was going to check up on you.

It hardly took a moment before Ghost had caught up to where you were.

Rounding the corner, the tall masked man paused at the sight.

"Should be nothing to worry about," the medic assured you, the two of you sat facing each other, in your own little bubble as the man gently cleaned up a small gash at your hairline, his hand holding yours for comfort.

"Wouldn't want to leave a scar on a face like yours," the medic beamed with natural charm and a set of pearly teeth.

Ghosts hand clamped onto the mans shoulder before he could really think, gloved fingers digging in a little too tightly.

"It's just a fucking cut," his deep voice gritted out, effectively dismissing the medic who nodded and quickly stood up to leave.

Ghost watched him like a hawk, brown eyes searing into the flesh of the man until he was effectively out of view. Subtly, with him gone, the Lieutenant relaxed now left with an awkward unnamed air between the two of you.

He folded his arms over his chest and sighed, glancing down at you with a keenly softer look, "...Want me to help you with that?" He finally, begrudgingly asked. He had sent the medic away for fucks sake. Brilliant.

▹ John "Soap" MacTavish

Dirt from the hangar's tarmac crunched under his boots with a soft crunch.

For the next couple of missions, Soap was set to be working quiet closely with you and a few others. Something MacTavish was aware of, and quite honestly, looking forward to.

There was a sort of enthusiastic smile lingering on his face as he walked towards the truck. The engines were already rumbling to life, soldiers and the drivers clambering up and settling in the back.

It was then that he spotted you, and his grin only grew wider, mouth opening to greet you and get your attention... until he saw it clear as day.

As you turned your head towards the truck, ready to step up into the back and unaware of his gaze... he saw a little red mark just above your pulse point.

The Sergeant nearly stopped, legs tensing as he walked, his natural smile faltering for the briefest of moments until you turned your head towards him and like a light, it returned as if it was never gone.

"Lookin' forward to the mission?" He asked, lips curling into a grin that hid the small vein of annoyance on his temple.

When you looked away again, his blue eyes flickered down to the hickey on your skin, the grip on his gun tightening ever so softly as he hopped into the truck after you. Sure to sit close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. And god he couldn't look away from that stain on your skin for the life of him, a firm, uncharacteristic line forming between his brows whenever you weren't looking.

▹ Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The Captain had told everyone to check their ammo and weapons before they headed out.

Gaz, holding no argument, went to do just that, happy to see you standing under the tent with your gun in hand. He watched subtly as he approached, the way your fingers seemed to float over the metal as you inspected your gun, eyes narrowed calmly in concentration. It was a sight that never got old.

"Got what you need?" He chirped up, standing next to you and pausing in front of the table of weapons.

There was an unfamiliar flicker of color dangling from the side of your gun.

A little silver charm of a bullet with something inscribed on it.

He recognized the thing almost immediately. A weapon charm; sure tons of soldiers decided to keep a little 'lucky' one with them, but this one in particular...

Well, the last time he saw this one, it had been on the gun of another soldier he had seen you talking to not a week ago.

So why the hell did you have it?

Gaz cleared his throat and pulled his gaze away, picking up a gun and slamming the clip into the gun with a loud click, suddenly riled up a bit.

"Think that little trinkets gonna bring ya luck?" He teased with a handsome grin, annoyance hidden beneath his light tone.

"Don't worry, you got me with you," he grinned and forced himself to walk away as if the damned thing hanging off your gun and the man who must've given it to you didn't secretly irk him.

▹ John Price

The Captain, for one reason or another was looking for you. Needed a quick talk before the next mission Laswell would be sending you all on.

He knew where to find you, of course, and made his way over with purpose. He paused a bit when he saw you standing next to a young man, about the same age as you, who he'd never seen before.

Odd, since the two of you seemed as thick as thieves. Laughing, gently pushing each other and excitedly chatting about things he couldn't quite understand the context of. A shared joke or old memory, Price assumed as he got closer to the pair of you.

Closer now, the man's face seemed... vaguely familiar, but nothing important immediately came to mind. Until the young bucks eyes fell down to yours with a soft adoration.

Like a light, he had connected the dots then.

He had seen that same expression in a photo you showed to him once, a picture of you and some other rookies back when you first enlisted... back when Price hadn't known you.

"Ah, sorry to cut in but-" The Captain began, clearing his throat with a kind smile that belied the gnawing at his chest from the sight of you getting along so easily with...

He sighed internally, clearly not sorry from cutting in on your little 'reunion' that was too friendly by his standards.

"I'm afraid we'll have to save introductions for some other time," he mused dryly, gloved hands resting on the straps of his vest before he nodded his head to the side, signalling for you to come along with him. Far away, hopefully.

"You're taking up my teams time," the Captains gruff voice cut through with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, 'half-joking' with your... old friend.

Before either of you could say anything, Price had already started walking, his hand hovering over your shoulder, urging you to turn around and walk with him. Gritting his teeth through a strained smile.

▹ Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

He could hardly take it anymore.

There was always this... slimy feeling in his chest whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

Well-not you exactly-but you and that damned- He stopped himself and sucked in a deep, forced breath through his teeth.

Although no one could see his face, everyone around him sensed the tension rolling off him in droves. Muscles tight, grumpy, and currently: swearing in Korean curses under his breath.

His eyes, though covered by dark lenses, stared straight ahead at a sight that shouldn't have disturbed him as much as it did.

There, sitting across the room you sat with a new operator. A man who had barely worked with you for all of a month, yet here you two were: sitting shoulder to shoulder, finding out you had more and more in common because you both came from the same country.

His eyes narrowed slightly gaze flickering to the same flag patch that sat on your uniform and his. Matching.

Horangi had no right to be jealous, he knew it, but he also knew that for whatever reason... he was.

His eyes flickered to the floor, sitting with his elbows propped on his knees, grumbling some more to himself with a heated sigh.

What the hell was he going to do about this? Millions of ideas started flickering in his minds eye, massaging his knuckles as a plan threatened to take shape.

[dollyfiles]

asking bsf!rafe to take your virginity

cw: rafe x fem!reader, best friends to lovers, soft dom!rafe, first time, kissing, fingering, praise, p in v (protected), degradation, fluffy, i got a little carried away so it’s kinda long..whops

“so that’s why you’re acting all akward ‘n shit?” rafe asked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. his tone was calm, though curiosity and concern laced his words. you nodded, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat cross-legged on his bed. “yea…that’s it,” you muttered, heat creeping up your cheeks. “it’s stupid, i know.”

“it’s not stupid,” rafe said immediately, his brows furrowing. “but seriously, y/n… that’s the only reason?”, “yes..” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. “and i already get it, okay? you can save your dumb jokes and make fun of me later, just like the girls did.”

rafe’s expression softened. “you think i’m gonna make fun of you? c’mon, i’m not an asshole.” you glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice easing your nerves slightly. “it’s just—” you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “i feel like a complete loser. i mean, almost 20 and still a virgin? how pathetic is that?”

“it’s not pathetic,” rafe said firmly, his voice steady. “why would it even matter? it’s not like there’s a deadline for this stuff.” you huffed, “you don’t get it,” frustration bubbling up again. “it’s not just that. tay and jill were sitting there, sharing their stories, and i couldn’t say anything. i felt like a freaking clueless kid, rafe. i don’t want to feel like that anymore. i just…i just want it to be over with already.”

rafe studied you carefully, his jaw tightening as he thought over your words. “y/n,” he started, his voice gentle but firm, “you don’t have to rush into something just because—”

“then you do it,” you blurted out, words tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself. the room went completely silent, and you immediately regretted how direct you had been, cheeks burning as you looked at rafe, his eye wide and face turning pale as he processed what you’d just said.

“wait—what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, though he quickly recovered, “are you serious?” you swallowed hard, heart racing, but instead of chickening out, you met his gaze. “yea, I’m serious,” you said, “i don't want it to be with some random guy, and i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want it to be with someone i trust. and you’re the only person I trust, rafe.“

he blinked, processing what you were asking for. and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. you were his best friend, the one person he’d always been closest to, and now you were asking him to take your virginity. a million thoughts ran through his head, but one stood out; the idea of being your first didn’t just excite him—it drove him fucking wild. yet he tried to compose himself.

“y/n…” he began, feeling his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “are you sure about this? i mean, i don’t want you to regret anything.” you nodded, “i’m sure,” fidgeting with your shirt, “i trust you, rafe. i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t.”

he hesitated, the weight of your trust settling over him. “you’re really serious about this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i am,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your eyes locked on his. “you’re the person I feel the safest with, ray. please, teach me.”

the way you said it—the trust in your voice, the vulnerability—made his heart race. he swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded slightly. "okay," he murmured, leaning closer, his eyes piercing through yours.

rafe moved slowly, giving you every opportunity to back out. his hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in, your lips brushing only softly at first. but as you responded, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, the kiss deepened, growing more intense.

your breaths mingled, and rafe's hands moved to your waist, guiding you gently as he eased you back onto the bed. "tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and warm.

"i won't," you assured him, biting your lip in anticipation. even though you felt super nervous, rafe’s presence calmed you down, his touch sending sparks through you. just then his fingers paused at the hem of your shirt, looking up at you with soft eyes, "can i...?"

"yes," you whispered. rafe slid the fabric up slowly, his movements deliberate and respectful. every step, every touch, was cautious, ensuring you were comfortable. he tossed the shirt aside, followed by your shorts, going until you were bare. his hands grazed your skin, pulling back slightly to take in your naked form, his breath catching in his throat.

he had seen you in bikinis countless times before, even underwear, but this—this was entirely different. the soft curves of your body, the delicate flush of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with every nervous breath—he was utterly captivated. the fact that you had chosen him to be your first left him star-struck, a mixture of awe and protectiveness washing over him.

he swallowed hard, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as though afraid to break you. his voice was thick with emotion as he murmured, "you're fucking perfect." you gave him a small, shy smile, your hands fidgeting slightly at your sides. rafe leaned down, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, and the curve of your neck.

he could feel you relax beneath him, your body responding to his every move. when he reached just at your lower stomach, he paused, looking up at you with quiet intensity. "you tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?" you nodded, your heart racing. "mhm."

rafe’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot between your thighs, rubbing your clit in soft circles. the contact made you gasp, and he froze for a second, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. when he saw none he continued, his touch gentle and deliberate.

“it might feel weird or sting a little, okay? but I’ll be gentle, i promise.” he worked slowly, his fingers softly brushing through your slick folds before pushing one past your entrance. your breath hitched, winching slightly as his thick digit thrusted in and out of you, soon each motion eased the slight pain into something far more enjoyable.

rafe couldn't help but smile softly at your reactions, pride swelling in his chest as he watched you fall apart beneath his touch. "you’re doing so good," he cooed, his voice low and soothing.

your hands gripped the sheets, breaths coming faster, your head tipping back as waves of sensation washed over you. rafe stayed completely focused on you, his own desire burning inside him, but he pushed it aside. this wasn't about him. it was about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your first time being something you would never regret.

just as you felt yourself fall completely into it rafe removed his fingers from your weeping cunt, making you whine at the sudden loss of his touch. “shit, really can’t wait, can ya?” he teased, removing his own clothes before grabbing a condom from his wallet, pumping his cock a few times before rolling it down his shaft.

your breath caught in your throat as rafe stood before you, fully bare. you had expected to feel shy or embarrassed, but instead, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over you. he was perfect. his lean, sculpted body was like something out of a dream, every muscle defined, every line sharp, a literal walking god. your gaze lingered on his chest, his arms, trailing lower despite your best efforts to stop yourself. the heat in your face spread all the way to your core, and you bit your lip, trying not to openly gape at him.

rafe caught the way your eyes were literally ripping at him, the way your lips parted slightly, eyes wide with something that made his heart race and his ego burst out the roof. he chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the room.

your eyes were fixed on him, your heart fluttering. as he moved closer, preparing to guide you into unfamiliar territory, he noticed the nervousness flicker in your eyes. your body tensed slightly beneath him, and your breaths quickened, though you didn't pull away.

"hey," he murmured, his voice soft, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "look at me." your gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes immediately soothed some of your nerves. "you don't have to be nervous," he said, brushing his thumb along your jawline. you nodded, chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. "i know," you whispered. "i trust you, rafe."

"good," he murmured, pressing his lips onto yours while lining himself up with your entrance, his tip brushing against your puffy clit before slowly pushing inside, making you audibly gasp. he was big, actually huge, stretching you out completely. when you winced slightly, he paused, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, making sure you were good to go before he started rocking his hips slowly.

your hands gripped his shoulders, your body gradually relaxing under his touch, the pleasure only growing from there. rafe was careful, controlled, making sure you felt comfortable and safe. and as you grew more confident, your hands began to roam over his body, nails digging into his back as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

"rafe," you murmured breathlessly. he paused instantly, concern flickering in his gaze. "you okay?" he asked, brushing your hair back from your flushed face. your cheeks burned, and you hesitated for a moment before looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "i want...i need more. be rougher with me, please."

rafe froze, your words igniting something deep inside him. he studied your face, searching for any trace of doubt. but your expression was certain, eyes dark with desire. "y/n..." he began, his voice low, almost strained, "are you sure?"

"yes," you whispered, voice trembling but filled with need "want you, ray. all of you." your words snapped the last thread of his restraint. his lips crashed against yours, the kiss no longer soft and tentative but harsh, almost hungry. his hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as a low growl escaped his throat.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with desire. "you’re so damn perfect, letting me be your first. do you know how crazy that drives me?"

your breath hitched at his words, body arching beneath him. you hadn't expected the heat that surged through you at the sound of his growly voice, making your head spin. "tell me," you whispered, voice shaking, “tell me everything."

his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he grunted, "you’re such a naughty little bunny. letting your best friend pop your cherry like this. shit—do you know how bad i’ve wanted you? how many times i’ve imagined this?" your gasp turned into a moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders, cunt clenching around his cock. "rafe..."

"you like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with need. "you like knowing how much i’ve wanted you? how long i’ve been holding back on pounding this sweet pussy?" he bit down on your shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue as his grip on your hips tightened.

you could barely form a sentence, your mind going all fuzzy from his words and the way he made you feel. "yes," you breathed. "i love it.” rafe huffed, “say it again," he commanded, his tone firm as his movements grew more intense, abusing your wet cunt. "say you fucking love it."

"i love it," you cried out, voice breaking as you felt a tight knot forming in your lower stomach, his hips meeting yours with every thrust, "love it so much."

that broke something inside him. he couldn't hold back anymore, his movements turning fierce and desperate, thrusting into you harder, his hands and lips claiming every inch of you as his own. “that’s my girl.” he smiled through gritted teeth, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter, “gonna cum for me pretty bunny? make a mess all over my cock?”

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, arching your back as your head pressed down into the pillows, your orgasm rushing over you while crying out his name. rafe was absolutely going crazy, the sight of you cuming because of him was heaven sent, making him moan.

"you’re mine, y/n," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he helped you ride out your orgasm, “do ya’ hear me? you’re mine now. no one else gets to touch you like this."

"yes" you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair. "only you, ray." his movements grew sloppier the closer he got to releasing, his hips bucking into you, cock twitching inside your pulsing cunt as he filled up the condom with his seed, “fucking shit..”

the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as rafe hovered over you, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up. his chest rose and fell against yours, his cock still buried inside you. your hands were resting on his shoulders, fingers tracing the faint lines of his muscles as you tried to catch your breath. your cheeks were flushed, hair messy and splayed out on the pillow beneath, but to rafe, you had never looked more beautiful.

he dipped his head, brushing soft, featherlight kisses along your jawline, then your cheek, and finally your lips. “you’re amazing," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and breathless. "so good. you were so, so good." he pressed another kiss to the curve of your neck before meeting your gaze, his blue eyes shining with admiration. "you have no idea how proud i am of you."

you let out a soft laugh, still trying to process everything. "i don't think anyone's ever said that to me... like this," you whispered, voice tinged with a slight shyness. "well, get used to it," rafe said with a small smirk, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "because i'm never letting you go now."

tags: @rafesbangs @rafesheaven @littlelamy @vampteeths @filthyrafe @figthoughts @pintrestgrl @kissyrafe @bambiangels @beausling @starzify

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"Suck it n' look in his eyes!"⋆˚࿔ ⋆𝜗𝜚˚

synopsis: birthday blowjob for alhaitham hehehe

tags: vulgar, explicit, bj (obviously), cum eating, other than that pretty tame

wrd cnt: 0.8k

a/n: repost from old acc!

Alhaitham isn't one for relishing in the day of his birth, but he knows you like to make something special out it- so he lets himself humor it.

When he walked through the door, he was immediately hit with the sweet scent of roses and the evidence of its petals creating a clear and persuasive path.

He followed the trail of red velvet into your shared bedroom to find you sat and waiting, a wicked grin on your face.

"Happy birthday," you purred.

Alhaitham's eyes widened at the sight before him, his love in a dark hued set of lingerie, wrapped up like a delicious present all for him.

He was…surprised- to say the least, and a little nervous for what you had in store for him on his special day.

"This is...wow," he stammered, palms sweating slightly from his evident nervousness.

You unfolded your legs from the position they were in, pulling on the strap of your thigh garners straight as you stood up to go hug him.

"Come," you said softly, beckoning him.

Alhaitham eagerly complied, quickly closing the distance between you, his large hands catching you at the waist.

He captured your lips in a passionate tangle, tongues dancing together.

You pulled away just for a second to push him gently onto the bed.

As you straddled him; cold hands found the meat of your ass to grab and grind against his growing erection, his cock poking in between the folds of your clothed cunt.

You slowly trailed kisses down Alhaitham's neck, nipping at his sensitive skin along the way, continuing to grind against him, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure as you both felt a familiar pool of pleasure and warmth in your bodies, growing each titillating second.

"Fuck-“ he groaned. "More...'

You smirked, making your way down his chest as he strips for you…quite fast at that, letting you leave a trail of hot kisses down his exposed skin.

When you reached the waistband of his pants, you look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes; hungry to taste more.

"Can I take these off?" you ask innocently, as if he’d say anything but yes.

Alhaitham nodded slowly, unable to form words as desire coursed through his veins and a red hue stuck to his face, a rouge similar to the ones of the roses that led him here- to you.

You make quick work of Alhaitham's boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. His cock springing up free from its confines.

You breathed heavier now, feeling the weight of it in your hand and seeing all the pretty veins that were engraved into his cock.

Alhaitham groaned at the sight of your lust-filled gaze focused on him, so eager to feel your mouth wrapped around him.

You placed a soft kiss on the tip of his shaft, already tasting the pre-cum that had gathered there, only serving to make you even more determined.

You slowly licked a stripe up the underside all the way up, before swirling your tongue around the head, sucking it softly.

Alhaitham let out a low growl of approval as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

"Fuck- just like that…you're doing so well."

You took as much of him into your mouth as you could, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around him.

Bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke as your hand took the rest of it.

"Y-y/n...shit," Alhaitham groaned. "That feels so fucking good...don't stop-"

All you could do was moan in response, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Alhaitham's cock- but you continued to suck and lick him, alternating between slow and fast strokes.

Alhaitham's hips bucked involuntarily as you took him deep into her throat. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge with each passing second.

"I'm gonna cum...down your fucking throat," he warned.

You pulled away from his cock with a wet pop and looked up at him with a sultry smile.

"Not yet," you said teasingly. "I want to taste you a bit more."

With that, you took him back into your mouth, sucking him eagerly as you stroke his shaft with one hand. Your other hand pleasing his balls, gently massaging them as you continued to work him over.

It didn't take long for Alhaitham to reach his peak. He let out a string of curses as he came hard in your mouth.

"Don't you dare waste a drop..." He groaned, ragged breathing as he threw his head back.

And you damn sure didn't, swallowing every bit, eagerly milking him for every last bit of pleasure.

When he had finally come down from his high, Alhaitham pulled you up into a messy lock of lips. He could taste himself on her tongue, and it only served to fuel his desire even further.

"Happy Birthday to me." He breathed out against your lips.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[goddamnitmahtin]

This is too good… I must add because what if…

During one of their meetups

Tim, sleep deprived and desperate for coffee, “Robu…. I need you.” He slumped onto Danny’s couch

Now normally, Danny wouldn’t prefer to be referred to as a coffee brand all the time but… this was Tim. And it was Tim’s favorite coffee… so in a way… it was like he was Tim’s favorite coffee? It was hard to explain but Danny knew that he liked it a lot. More than he probably should have.

He placed the cup of coffee into his fake boyfriend’s hands. His very big hands. Course from working so hard being all heroic in the field of duty. Calloused and bruised, no doubt broken and reset dozens of times. The hands of a vigilante who was fully and utterly alive.

Danny was never jealous of Tim for that. Infact… he was very happy for Tim that he was so alive. Heartbeats are a good thing of course. And his was very nice. Steady and always going 100 miles a minute from the amount of caffeine he consumed. He supposed he should stop providing said caffeine but he spent his whole life being selfless. He was going to let himself be selfish this one time. He didn’t want to stop seeing his fake boyfriend.

“How long has it been this time?” Danny asked, trying not to sound too suspicious, “Since you’ve slept?”

He watched as the adorable mess of a man slumped over his couch sighed, “Um- 6- no- 8? Um- 74 hours or so?”

Well it wasn’t as bad as sometimes at least. He knew that it was bad for him to be awake so long. Sometimes on their “fake dates” Danny suggested movie nights just so he would take a nap. He wanted Tim’s heart to keep beating so he could keep listening to the sound.

Danny nodded, “Busy man you are.” He made sure his body blocked the coffee table from Tim’s view. He hadn’t properly put his mail out of sight before his vigilante had come to see him and he knew that Tim was nothing if not a detective.

Tim noticed the awkwardness coming from him immediatly, “Hey why are you hiding your mail from me?”

Dammit Tim why do you have to be so smart and perfect all the fucking time-

Danny laughed nervously, “I’m not- doing that…”

Tim sat up and gently adjusted Danny out of the way to look at the papers, grabbing him by the waist to do so.

Danny swooned only a little when he felt those big hands on his hips. Momentarily, he very much forgot why he was hiding his mail from Tim. But not long enough for the distraction to stop him from trying to grab the papers before Tim could reach them.

He failed.

Tim looked at the eviction notice in his hand, “Danny you never told me- I could have given you more money?!” He looked bewildered and confused. And more than that. Danny could tell there was a bit of fear in his eyes. He understood. He felt it too.

“Money isn’t the problem Tim, you give me more than enough,” Danny said fidgeting with the tracker fashionably dangling from his ear, “Everyone in the building got one. Ms. Abernathy sold it under the table to some shady company.”

Tim looked outright pissed, “What company is it?”

“I don’t remember but I remember hearing the name of it and thinking it sounded fake as hell. Probably why we are all getting kicked out instead of our leases transferring to the new owner. Ms. Abernathy doesn’t want her tenants in a bad situation,” Danny explained. He may not have been a vigilante anymore but hey, he still knew shady shit when he saw it.

Then a ding from Tim’s Nightwing tracker. And then immediately after, he feels another presence outside the window. The other birds were spying again.

“Move in with me,” Tim blurted out.

Danny… well Danny…. Danny fucking short circuited.

“Wha-?” was all he could get out. Normally he was better at improvising but ancients be damned, the cutest man ever just asked him to move in with him.

“Look I know I said we should wait since I didn’t want you in harms way if any rogues found my apartment but…” Tim wrapped his arms around Danny’s waist AGAIN, “I trust you to be able to defend yourself (after Danny broke into the Batcave as Phantom, Danny told him everything because why wouldn’t he) and honestly… I’de love having you around more often Robu.”

Danny’s breath caught as he felt those callouses on his hips again. He watched Tim stand to look him eye to eye and felt his entire core purr as one of those calloused hands moved to his cheek. Tim was really playing it up.

Danny could play it up too, “Aw is the tracker not enough anymore Timothy?” He wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, bringing his face closer, “Of course I’ll move in with you. But don’t think I’ll be taking it off.” (Danny was referring to the tracker)

Tim smiled, “Don’t you dare.”

Then they kissed. Like on the lips. Cuz they were acting. Yeah, that. It didn’t stop Danny from adoring how Tim tasted of coffee though.

The next minute they were packing a few bags of Danny’s things and heading off to the new apartment.

While his core buzzed excitedly about the future of much more close proximity, Danny’s mind couldn’t help but wander off a little. They had gone this far. And Tim had a nickname for him. Maybe he should come up with one for Tim? He called him Tim or Timothy mostly, sometimes throwing other names in there to see if they stuck but nothing ever did. He called him Birdie once and the man gave him the biggest glare he had ever seen. It was attractive but not the response he was hoping for.

Danny knew a lot about death. Obviously. He also knew the irony of Tim’s vigilante persona Red Robin. The most alive man he had ever met used the name of a bird of death. Most people only know about the associations from cardinals, many stating that the dead send the bird to their loved ones as reminders of them.

What not as many people knew was that this was also extended to red robins. Red robins also had a double meaning when it came to the dead as they represented rebirth and starting anew. The same meaning as an upright death card in the tarot deck.

If anything… of the two of them Danny was the red robin. Tim was more of a…. swan. Yeah a swan. Loyalty, fidelity, and grace. Swans also mate for life but Danny wasn’t going to think about that. He knew Tim probably didn’t do that kind of thing like ghosts did. But it was a nice thought that he wasn’t going think about at all.

He set down the box with his clothes in it. He didn’t have very many. Most of the clothes he had were from before he moved here and most of that was destroyed in Amity Park when his parents found out what he was. It was… a lot of fire.

The rest of the clothes he had… well he kinda slowly stole them from Tim whenever he finally decided to shower and crash out whenever he stayed the night.

It wasn’t weird. He trusted Danny to wake him up before he had to leave for work. It wasn’t weird at all. Infact… Danny’s core quite liked it whenever he would stay.

“Well that’s all of my stuff,” he said.

Tim nodded, looking at all 4 boxes and 1 backpack, “Well it’s a good thing you pack so light. Too bad that couch wasn’t yours. It was comfy as fuck.”

Danny chuckled, “The bed wasn’t mine either.”

At that Tim laughed as well, “I know Robu. It was far too comfortable for you to afford.”

Danny scoffed, though the thoughts of his hometown that were brought up by how little stuff he had didn’t leave completely, “Wow thanks.”

Tim’s posture straitened. Dammit. Tim always fucking knew.

“What are you thinking about,” he asked, getting close. He always did that. Got close. He knew Danny sought comfort in physical contact. He could hear a difference in Tim’s heartbeat from the genuine concern.

Danny looked up at him, “Amity… my parents…”

Tim nodded, “Do you want to talk about it or a distraction?”

Ancients, this man was so fucking perfect.

“Distraction please,” Danny sighed, letting his head fall against Tim’s chest. He wanted to listen to his heartbeat. It was nice. And Tim held him for a while just like that. Talking about how he was going to buy a brand new bed for Danny and that after that, he was going to make 3 new tracker earrings all in different colors so that he could always have one on him no matter the outfit (As if Danny didn’t wear the silver one he already had everywhere).

One day… one day maybe it could be real. But until then… having Tim like this was going to have to be enough. It was better than having never met him at all. He couldn’t let go of his swan.

Extra:

*a few days into them living together*

Danny on the phone: So yeah I’m living with Tim now.

Jazz on the other line: So he’s your boyfriend? You could have just said that Danny.

Danny blushing furiously: N-no!

Jazz: Danny… from what you’ve told me, you live together, you eat together, you do laundry together, he knows your past, you know his…. you sleep in the same bed!

Danny: I- well- the new one hasn’t come in yet and before that it was only sometimes!

Jazz: Uhuh. And denial is a river in Egypt.

Danny: Jazz….

Jazz: Daniel the man has a tracker in your ear! So, what did you decide to call him?

Danny: *blushing profusely* I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Jazz: You can’t hide from me. I know your brain Daniel Fenton! He has a nickname for you so obviously you came up with one for him.

Danny: Fine… he’s… my Swan.

Jazz: ….. (processing) …. (Google searching the meaning)…. (Reading) …. Danny you are so insufferably corny. I hope you know that.

Danny smiling: He reminds me all the time.

Jazz smiling wider: Uhuh.

Danny, working as a cashier: Can I help you?

Tim half-deranged: Please I just want a cup of coffee

Danny squinted, then pulled out a binder: I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-

Tim: NO. THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!

Danny leaning in to whisper: Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash.

Tim: how much? Five hundred, six hundred or hell even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want.

Danny: Chill dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine.

Tim: It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand and Bruce bought them out just to make sure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!

Danny: okay okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?

Jason three weeks later in Bat cave: Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention.

Dick: What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!

Bruce: I also thought that was Tim boyfriend but if it's a drug dealer we have to help him.

Tim hiding in the shadows: shit.

Tim texting Danny: If anyone asks your my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny: who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend.

[fl3shm4id3n]

hiii i love your writing sm and i was wondering if u took requests! If you do i was wondering if you would do a fic of thanos where him and fem reader both take the pills from and his cross and they have seggs and its js really rough and everything😇

ʜɪɢʜ ᴏɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 '𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬' 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, taking substances/drugs, under the influence type sex, swearing, dry humping, aggressive make out, lip biting, titty grabbing, mating press, missionary, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), reader has the implant or on the pill (either or), a bit of aftercare.

A/N: They weren't until now, I got better to do so, enjoy :D

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That night, Thanos had come home a bit too excited. He quickly took off his shoes in the doorway and quickly ran to the bedroom. Where you were located. "Baby! I'm home and I got something!" He said, seen you lying in bed, scrolling through your Tiktok. You looked up at him, then sat your phone down onto the pillow and sat up. "What is it?" You asked, as he sat down on the bed, in front of you. He took out his cross. "I got it right here." He said, as you watched he opened the cross. Revealing pink, blue and yellow pills. "Candy?" You said, while looking at the colorful tablets.

"Nah baby, this isn't just candy. This is the good shit. Fucking crazy shit." He said, he was twitching with excitement. "What is it? Ecstasy? Ketamine?" You asked, as he took out a pink pill. "Even better than that. I call them, Infinity Stones." He said, making you roll your and playfully push him. "So what? Do you just swallow them or crush them? What?" You asked. "You can, but for much faster results. You chew them." He said, as he held up the pill between his fingers. "Open wide. Ahhh." He said, as he opened his mouth wide. You then opened your mouth, slightly sticking out your tongue a bit. You watched how he placed the pill on your tongue. You closed your mouth, then processed to chew on the pill.

It tasted just like any other pill, nothing real special. But the after taste tasted sweet, kind of like Pepto gum flavor. You wondered if Yellow and Blue had their own after taste. "I don't feel anything." You said, as you swallowed the now chewed up pill. "Just wait a few minutes, it'll kick in soon." He said, as he chewed his own pink pill. You hummed, then laid back on the bed, but as soon as your head hit the pillow. You felt your heart beat picking up. It felt weird, but calming in some way. Not only that, but your face began to heat up, as well as your body. Holy shit did that kick in fast. You suddenly felt all the adrenaline in your body kick in.

"Holy shit!" You said, as your eyes began to dilate. "Right? Crazy shit." He said with a chuckle, seen your rookie reaction. "I'm like, really hot." You said, as your took off the shirt that belonged to Thanos. All he did was chuckle, watching you take off his shirt. Now you laid there, with your shirt off. Not sure on what to do now, you just laid there, while Thanos just looked at you. With admiration in his eyes. You looked at him, lazily raising a brow. "Whatya looking at?" You asked, while Thanos ran his fingers up and down your stomach, slightly tickling your belly button. "Nothing, you just look cute right now." He said, making you smile and giggle, your face burning up a bit more.

The room grew quiet, both you and Thanos simply stared at one another. It felt like while, but only a minute passed. He then proceeded to lick his lips and smirk. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked, while he somewhat crawled to you, now hovering over you. "Is it weird that I am?" You asked, while looking at him. Directly at his dilated orbs. He didn't even say anything. He leaned down and kissed you right on the lips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your around his neck and kissed him back.

You were basically eating each other's faces. Lips locking and teeth crashing against each other. As you kissed, you felt his warm hand get a hold of your left breast, giving it a good yet harsh squeeze, making you hum against his lips. You then wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer with your les. You felt his now rock hard cock slightly rub against your clothed cunt. You couldn't help but run a hand through his purple crazy hair, giving it a small tug, making Thanos groan.

That made him slightly bite your bottom lip and gently tug at the skin, having your wine underneath him. Spotting his name 'Thanos' inked into your skin. He remembered the day you got it tattooed. It was painful, but you loved it. He pulled away from your lips. Allowing you both to catch your breath. "It's so fucking hot." He said, he then took off the hoodie he was wearing along with the shirt underneath, in a quick manner. Almost desperate to strip. Once he was shirtless, he leaned back down and kissed you again. As you both kissed, you began to unclasp the small hooks of your bra. Then you'll the straps down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Immediately erecting your nipples.

The kiss was even messier than before. Your tongues were literally battling each other, desperate for dominance. Neither of you cared for that, you were far occupied on other things. As you both kissed, you felt Thanos beginning to grind his hips against yours. "Oh!" You moaned against his lips, feeling his hard cock rubbing against your now dripping pussy. You felt even more wetter than most times. What is it the drug or just the fact that Thanos was being slightly more rough with you. Whatever it was, it felt amazing.

Soon after, Thanos pulled away, then began to pull down his sweatpants and his boxers. You also removed the basketball shorts that you wore, which also belonged to him and you took off your obviously soaked panties. Thanos then grabbed your legs, spreading them and pushed down down to your shoulders. He then got right between your legs, lining his cock against your entrance. You shivered when you felt your folds getting caressed by his angry red tip. "What? Not gonna eat me out?" You teased. "No time, I need to be! Inside!" He said, thrusting his cock inside you. That harsh thrust made you let out a moan like scream. Normally, he'd finger you or eat you out before fucking you. But instead, he just went for it.

Thanos began pounding into you and into hard. It made the bed creak loudly and shake the same rhythm as his thrusts. He was going faster then normal, you had your arms around his neck. Holding onto him for dear life. You whined and moaned against his shoulder, as he continue to pound you, with no mercy. His cock was stretching your insides, it burned in a way, but it felt so pleasurable. It felt as if he was trying to split you in half, he easily could.

You then felt the back of your hair getting pulled, causing your head to tilt backwards. You moaned loudly as you felt your scalp slightly burn by the hard grip Thanos had on the back of your hair. Almost directly pulling at your roots. You looked at him, weakly, but the adrenaline and excitement was keeping you from giving up. "Open your mouth." He moaned, obediently, you opened your mouth as much as you could. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of your chin and cheeks, making your mouth widen a bit more. Then he spat right in your mouth. That surprised you. He had never done that, not even suggested him spitting in your mouth before.

That was hot. You never thought you'd be into something so vulgar. Soon after, Thanos kissed you again, pounding into you as much as he could. All that could be heard in the room was your skin slapping against each other, as well as the bed creaking even more. "AH! FUCK!" Thanos moaned loudly, as he kept pounding into you. He moved your legs back down, placing them around his waist. He loved the way your legs would wrap around his waist. The way the tighten as you were closer to cumming.

As soon as he felt your legs tighten around his waist. He knew that you were about to cum. He looked down at his cock disappearing, he spat down at your clit. Then began to give you harsh clit harsh and hard rubs. Making you twitch by the sudden action. You threw your head back against the pillow and loudly moaned. Almost like a phonographic moan, except your moans were real and he knew it. "Fuck! I'm about to!-" Thanos moaned loudly, as he continued to thrusts and his fingers rubbed rubbing at a fast pace. You notice how he was going weak too, but he wasn't going to stop. Not until you and him came.

You then felt your insides explode, as you came. You let out a cry like shriek as your juices had released all over your body. You felt Thanos pumping his hot load inside you. As you tried catching your breath, you could still feel Thanos coating your insides with his cum. He dropped on top of you once he pulled out. He was beat and you knew it. He had his eyes closed as he tried catching his breath, while the side of his face rested against your chest. He was coated in sweat, as if he had come back from a run. You softly ran your nails down his damp back. Giving somewhat of a message. "You okay?" You asked, while Thanos just hummed. "Yeah, just beat." He responded, remaining in his current position. You continued your soft movements as he relaxed. You couldn't help but yawn, feeling tired. "I'm sleepy." You said. "Yeah, that happens." He mumbles. "Just sleep it off." He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, using your chest as a pillow. You were tired, like really tired. You closed eyes, as you continued to run your nails softly against his back. Until finally falling sleep. You loved it, hopefully you'll do it again.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks.  Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club. 

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

 Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen. 

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.  

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls. 

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away. 

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over. 

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll.  “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke. 

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!” 

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over. 

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her. 

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend. 

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door. 

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his. 

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent. 

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.” 

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots. 

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach? 

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line. 

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next. 

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.  

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.  

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party. 

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?” 

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?  

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words. 

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life. 

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

 You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him. 

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.   

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start. 

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face. 

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would. 

He showed up. 

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours. 

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious. 

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd. 

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. 

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends. 

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far. 

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.   

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to. 

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout. 

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer. 

“Six,” you sob. 

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.” 

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it. 

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once. 

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[skzenhatxt-stan]

“𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞” (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠)

Note - MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact)

Warnings - smut (ofc), dom!Heeseung x sub!reader, anniversary sex, fingering (f receiving), overstimulation, p in v, sex, unprotected sex, crude, many orgasm, idk what else?

Description - Today is Yours and Heeseung's 1st Anniversary.

Today is your and Heeseung's 1st marriage anniversary.

You were waiting for your husband, Heeseung to come home, dolled up in his favourite navy coloured minidress, wearing his favourite baby blue lingerie set underneath.

As the door bell rang, you opened the door to only be greeted with Heeseung's happy face and his hands holding a bouquet full of blue roses, only for it turn into a smirk after looking at your outfit.

He gave her the bouquet and landed a sweet peck on your forehead. “Happy Anniversary My Princess”

As he entered the house and removed his shoes, without wasting a single moment he scooped you in his arms making you gasp at the sudden contact.

He sat on the couch with you on his lap and started kissing your soft lips making you respond to his kiss immediately. He started kissing your neck with utter softness making you tilt your head to give him more space to abuse your soft skin.

He looked at your neck, which was now filled with purplish marks, softly licking those marks before looking over your mini dress.

“This dress looks beautiful on you my love, but you'll look more gorgeous without it” he said slowly unzipping the dress while his mouth latched to your sweet mouth.

As the zipper tugged open, the dress fell on your waist, revealing his favorite baby blue lingerie underneath. He helped her remove the dress as he looked at her.

“You wore it for me, didn't you? ” he said kissing your clothed nipple

“Just for you Hee” you moaned at the wet feeling in between your legs.

He wrapped his fingers around your delicate neck slightly choking you making your eyes roll back, moans slipping out of your mouth.

You kept your arms on his shoulder as your head fell back in pure bliss. He touched your clothed clit with his slender fingers, slightly rubbing the wet cloth with practiced manner while you clutch on his shoulders.

Her sticky wetness made him smirk. “ So wet? Wanna take daddy's cock? ”, your eyes widen in shock as he never talk to you in such dirty manner.

He chuckled at your reaction, “You thought I didn't knew about your little dirty fantasies about me fucking you in such manner that you would bleed cumming? ” you blushed in embarrassment.

“Don't be shock now when I'm gonna turn all your fantasies into reality” he whispered in your ears seductively.

He picked you up in his arms and harshly threw on the bed as he crawled up to you and ripped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room as he cupped those big boobs with titts being so perked up and squeezed them like a dough.

He pinched and twisted your nipples making you arch your back in pain and bliss. He slapped your boobs a good few times before burying his head between the dip of your chest as he licked the navel and spitting on places he desired.

He continued kneading her boobs before getting up and shaking your torso a good few times getting the hot view of your boobs dangling and shaking at his mercy.

Your uncontrolled moans slipping out of your mouth as he abused your little body, you were slipping.

“So beautiful titts, just for me” he slapped you harshly on your face to make you conscious, his hands now imprinted on your pale face.

He ripped your panties making them scrap your skin, the sticky wet arousal of yours beautifully painted the baby blue panties. He sniffed your panties taking in the sweet smell of your wetness.

He spanked your thighs before splitting them apart to see your glistening slit and beautiful pussy.

He licked your clit, sucking in the taste of your wetness as he inserted his fingers making you moan too much.

He thrusted and abused his fingers inside you as you reached your climax and came all upon his face as he licked off all the cum off you, while you shake like a leaf.

He kissed you making you have a taste of yourself. “You taste so fucking sweet princess, wanna have your cum as my breakfast, lunch, dinner everytime” he said holding your jaw and releasing after landing a tender kiss on your forehead.

He stood up from bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand as he took a pair of handcuff from it and smirked towards you .

He cuffed your hands as he spanked your ass.

“Now you'll be a good girl and take daddy's cock good ok? ” you nodded at him in desperation.

He removed his shirt and pants throwing it somewhere while you looked at the outline of his big cock through his boxers.

He aligned himself with your hole and slammed his cock inside your wet pussy making you moan his name.

He didn't give you even a bit of time to adjust and just thrusted inside and out of you in a very fast pace.

His hands clutched on your boobs, giving you pleasure of the whole world as he only fasten his pace.

He made your cuffed hands touch your own lower abdomen feeling his massive giant cock. He pressures on it making her feel pain.

You were close to your climax as he only seem to fasten his pace.

“Cum for me slut” he ordered making your legs tremble and cum on his cock as he didn't even stop and just continued pondering at the same pace if not more faster, making tears spill out of your eyes”

He flipped you on your stomach only to spank you and tug your hair back as he pondered inside you.

He twitched inside you as he feels closer to his own orgasm with your own climax.

“Gonna cum inside you and give you my babys, wanna make you a mother. Cum with me” he said as he shot his seeds inside you while you came apart on his massive cock.

But he didn't stop there, this time changing the positions making you sit on his cock and ride him as he helped you ride him.

He looked at the beautiful view of your boobs bouncing with every thrust, your tired eyes filled with tears and your cheeks stained with tears.

He spanked her again and again and again, not even showing her mercy and leading her towards her orgasm.

“C-can't hee, p-please. T-too much” she cried and choked

“No whore, you can give me one more. You will give me one more” he ordered you as you came apart on his dick for the fourth time tonight.

He flipped you down on the bed again and thrusted again, this time with tenderness making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Cum with me, princess” he said as he chased his orgasm making you feel him everywhere, so full, so cockdrunk

You both came at the same time as Heeseung kissed you with your orgasm.

He collapsed on you, without removing his cock from inside you.

“I Love You My Love”

[jjscrybaby]

thinking about “who did this to you?” and frat!boy rafe 🤭 his girl is always at his frat house and one night at a party, he’s looking for her and can’t find her. He eventually finds her crying and maybe with light bruises on her wrists or something? protective frat!rafe 🥰

rafe cameron x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (creepy guy, wrist grabbing, bruising, protective!rafe, mentions of anxiety, sort of shy!reader,)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The lights were giving you a headache. Topper thought it was funny to repetitively switch the main light on and off, to try and give the room a rave vibe. Most people inside were too fucked up to be annoyed by it, but you weren’t. You’d only had two vodka cranberries, and honestly all you wanted to do was crawl into Rafe’s bed and go to sleep.

During the majority of these parties you’d be glued to your boyfriend’s side, hanging off his arm like a trophy, but tonight was different. You were trying to branch out more, stop being so anxious at these things. Rafe loves a party, and being his girlfriend you should as well. So, for the last hour you’ve been roaming around; making minimal contact with him.

You left the main room with a huff, rubbing your temple as you walked out into the hall. There was no-one in sight, and you let out a sigh of relief that you had a moment alone. You sat down on the floor, leaning your head back against the wall. The door to the bathroom opened and a boy, one you hadn’t seen before, walked out.

“You alright?” He asked, looking down at you in amusement.

“I’m fine, just takin’ a break,” you explained. You didn’t want to speak to him, but it would be rude to send him away; especially with the mission you were on tonight.

“Mind if I join you?” He questioned. You didn’t even get to respond, he was already sitting down next to you. “I’m Parker, by the way.” You introduced yourself, shaking his outstretched hand. “Ah, you’re Cameron’s girl?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, just the mention of him had your mood lifting. Maybe you should just give up with the outgoing thing, maybe you should just go and find—

“You don’t seem like his type.” The statement caught you off guard, all thoughts leaving your head as you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“What does that mean?” You wondered, trying to sound calm.

He let out a hum, as if deep in thought, before shrugging his shoulders and giving you a smirk. “Rafe’s, like, into all this shit, y’know? Parties, drinking, drugs. You’re sat in the hallway alone.”

“Opposites attract,” you shrugged back, picking at the pink nail polish on your nails.

“That is the saying,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I just think maybe, a pretty girl like you, deserves someone that’s more like her. Someone that would sit with her in the hallway, for example.”

You thought he was degrading you, like the rest of Rafe’s fanboys usually did. But, you realised now that wasn’t the case. He was your fanboy. You let out an awkward chuckle, looking to the door that hadn’t opened since you stepped out. You prayed for someone, anyone, to need the bathroom.

“I’m gonna head back in—” you decided to screw the anxiety, and just do what was necessary.

“Why?” He interrupted. He didn’t sound quite so friendly anymore. “We’re hangin’ out, don’t go in yet.”

“I need to find Rafe.” You tried to stand, but his fingers gripped onto your wrist to stop you. You winced in pain, his hold only tightened. “Get off.”

“No—” your prayers were answered as the door opened, a drunken couple came stumbling through. The sudden interruption had him letting go of you, and you swiftly rushed away.

You ran upstairs, through the corridor of boy’s bedrooms, until you reached Rafe’s. With tears in your eyes, you pushed open the door and laid down in his bed.

It only took ten minutes for the door to open again, you flinched; thinking that maybe Parker had followed you up here, but you let out a shaky sigh of relief at the sight of Rafe.

“Hey, baby. There you are, been lookin’ all over— are you crying?” He interrupted himself, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No,” you blatantly lied through your tears, voice coming out muffled.

He wrapped his arms around you, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Hey, what happened? It get a bit overwhelmin’? You could have told me, you know I��d much rather sit up here with you.”

“Not exactly…” you reached up to move your hair from your eye-line, you realised your mistake the moment that gentle look in his eyes dropped.

“What is that?” He grabbed your arm, not harshly but forcefully. Your wrist had turned a bright red colour, bruises would be forming soon enough.

“Nothing!” You squeaked out, trying to pull your arm away from him.

“Don’t bullshit me. That wasn’t there earlier. What happened?” He demanded to know. You knew he was serious, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice.

You gave in, tears rolling down your cheeks as you explained to him what happened with the boy. He stroked over your wrist, a moment of silent going over the two of you before he leant forward and kissed your temple.

“Get changed, put on a movie. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He murmured softly.

“Where’re you going?” You asked nervously, you were pretty sure you already knew the answer.

“To sort out that fuckin’ kid. No one puts their hands on you, get it?” He stated, pecking your lips before getting off the bed.

You didn’t argue, there was no point. Rafe was too in love with you, if someone hurt you he’d do just about anything to get payback.

[rainyreading]

Can you please write a mattheo x theodore x mc smut pleasee if possible.Thank you!

what are best friends for

mattheo riddle x theodore nott x reader

wc: 1.3k

requests open

Theo was your boyfriend. You both loved each other very much. You both were good friends with Mattheo. The three of you had a lot of fun together. There was never a dull moment between you three. Right now you were all in the common room chatting away. You were on Theo’s lap sitting happily.

Mattheo sat across from the two of you in a chair. Theo noticed the way Mattheo was eyeing you. You were wearing a top that accentuated your tits. Mattheo was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Theo was thinking about it and he thought maybe he was willing to share.

“Would you let Mattheo fuck you?” Theo whispered.

“Wh-what?” You questioned shocked.

“Would you let my best friend hook up with you? It’s okay with me, I’d let him just this once.” Theo explained.

“Theo, I love you not him. Why should i?”

“I don’t know the experience, to feel good?”

“I don’t want to pressure you but I think it would be fun for you.” Theo gently explained.

“Mm okay,” you said softly.

“Okay?”

You nodded. Theo wanted to make sure you were comfortable with this. He didn’t want to put you in a situation where you were uncomfortable. He just thought it would be beneficial for both parties.

Now Theo could tell Mattheo. Theo took your hand in his and sauntered over to Mattheo. “Come with me,” Theo tapped him on his shoulder.

Theo led the two of you to his dorm. When you got there Mattheo spoke, “What’s this about?”

“Do you want to have sex with Y/N?” Theo asked bluntly.

“What?”

“Do you want to fuck her?”

“Theo.”

“No i’m being serious,” Theo stated.

“She’s yours man, I couldn’t just take her,” Mattheo responded.

“Well I’m giving you an opportunity here,” Theo explained.

“What’s the catch?” Mattheo asked.

“There are some rules, for one no coming inside her.”

“Obviously, but she’s okay with it?” Mattheo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Come here sweet thing,” Mattheo beckoned you.

You were a little shy but you trusted Theo. You made you way over to Mattheo. Mattheo grabbed the back of your thigh and guided you onto his lap.

“It’s okay bella,” Theo encouraged you.

Mattheo gave you a smile and brushed some hair out of your face, “I’m gonna kiss you now okay?”

You nodded your head which gave Mattheo the green light. Mattheo tasted like cigarette smoke and whisky. You weren’t gonna lie it was different and it felt weird kissing someone else. Mattheo crushed his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

Theo came up behind you and started to kiss your neck. “We just want to make you feel good,” Theo whispered. “Mhmm.” Theo skillfully sucked deep purple marks on your neck and chest.

Then Theo grabbed your chin and kissed you roughly. “We’re gonna share you tonight, aren’t we Theo,” Mattheo announced leaning back on his hands. “Yes we are,” Theo responded.

“Can I take your top off?” Mattheo asked.

“Yes.”

Mattheo lifted your top off and slid it up over your head and off your body, revealing you in a black lace bra. Mattheo’s gaze was hungry. He looked at you like you were a piece of meat. Theo came up behind you and unclipped your bra revealing your bare breasts.

“Fuck, you’re exquisite,” Mattheo complimented.

Mattheo had you lie down on your back. Theo sat on one side and Mattheo sat on the other. Theo was kissing your neck and then Mattheo started to kiss your chest. The sensation of their kisses were making you wetter and wetter.

“You have such perfect tits,” Mattheo commented.

“She does doesn’t she,” Theo boasted.

Mattheo sucked on your nipple and groped the other. He licked and sucked and then gave the same attention to the other breast. Theo was making dark purple marks on your neck still. Mattheo kissed down your stomach and then stoped at the waistband of your skirt.

“Please tell me I can taste you,” Mattheo begged.

You looked at Theo to see what he would say and he seemed fine with it so you nodded your head. Mattheo was quick. He discarded your skirt and panties in one swift motion. Then he settled between your legs.

Mattheo licked a strip from your core to your clit and you moaned at the sensation. Mattheo feasted on your cunt like it was his only purpose on earth. You felt euphoric. The pleasure was overwhelming.

Theo sat behind you as you leaned on his chest. The only thing he was wearing was his underwear. Mattheo was shirtless. Mattheo skillfully ate you out. He sucked on your clit making you see stars.

Theo watched the interaction. You had your back up against his chest. He soothed you and made you feel safe because he was close to you. You were arching your back and trying to back away from Mattheo because the pleasure was getting to be too much.

Mattheo fucked you with his tongue. “Fuck you taste divine,” Mattheo panted over your cunt.

“Mmm,” you moaned.

Mattheo could feel that you were getting close. “Come on let go f’me,” he told you.

Your orgasm washed over you sending sparks through you. You came all over Mattheo’s face

“Good girl,” Theo whispered huskily in your ear.

“I get to be inside you now right?” Mattheo asked.

“Yeah mate she has the best pussy I’ve ever had, enjoy it,” Theo responded.

Mattheo rolled on a condom. You opened your legs and waited. You were a little nervous because it wasn’t Theo. You were mentally preparing yourself for this. “It’s okay principessa, I’m right here,” Theo soothed and started rubbing your shoulders.

“Are you ready?” Mattheo hesitated.

“Yes.”

Mattheo slid in with ease. Mattheo groaned loudly as he entered you. “Fuck you feel amazing,” Mattheo panted.

Mattheo pulled out just to slam back in. He set a brutal pace. The feeling was weird because you were used to Theo’s size and Mattheo was different. You had some drool that leaked out of your mouth and Theo kissed it away.

Mattheo’s cock massaged your walls in a whole new way. He pounded into you at a relentless pace. You took it like a champ. Theo reached around and played with your clit.

“Gonna fucking cum,” Mattheo hissed.

Mattheo pulled out and spilled into the condom. He jerked his cock with his hand. He then collapsed next to you on the bed totally spent.

“My turn cara mia,” Theo announced.

Theo lined himself up at your entrance. He pushed in with little force. You moaned at the feeling of your lover entering you. It felt right. Theo was super gentle and took care of you the whole time.

Theo kissed you while he was drilling into you. “Fuck you’re taking me so well, good job baby,” Theo panted.

You were getting a little overstimulated so you let out a whine. Theo shushed you. Theo pulled out just to slam back in at a bruising pace. The way he gripped your hips was sure to leave a mark. “Theo,” you cried. You dragged your nails down his back.

“I know baby I know,” he replied.

Theo started to play with your clit and you moaned again. “You’re almost there aren’t you?” Mattheo asked.

You nodded your head. You were clamping down on Theo’s cock and he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer. After a few sloppy thrusts, you came undone hard. Theo followed right after spilling his seed into you. “Ah Fuck,” Theo growled.

Theo pulled out and then went to go clean you up. The three of you laid there catching your breaths. You were completely spent and so tired you fell asleep cuddled into Theo’s side. You were practically on top of him.

“Ya know it was everything i dreamed of,” Mattheo said.

“Good.”

[sahisan]

nsfw. fem reader. cuddly chuuya for life <3 not proofread. might write an sfw ver now that im thinking about it.

chuuya who holds you as close as possible during sex.

chuuya loves cuddling during sex more than anything. it always starts with his hands all over you—holding you, hugging you, groping you; legs wrapped around your own or your middle, arms holding you close; lips either on yours, tongue slowly moving inside your mouth or littering your neck, shoulders and literally everywhere he can reach with kisses and lovebites.

and it doesn't even matter where—in bed, on the couch while watching another episode of a show, on the kitchen counter which he sat you up on while making breakfast on a day off (chuuya has self-control, a lot of it, actually, but it's needless to say the omelette was burnt), in his office at home (literally adores it when you cockwarm him while he deals with all these papers—can actually sit there for hours), hell, even in the shower where he always volunteers to hold you up while you wrap your legs around his waist.

chuuya doesn't like losing hold of you ever when you two make love, even if it's faint hand holding while he thrusts in and out of you, or holding your thighs apart while he eats you out or just simply pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

and oh, every time is so, so good.

like now, when he's fucking you from behind, arms wrapped around you like you're his lifebuoy, a hand on your breast and another on your lower abdomen, two fingers circling your clit. and it's a combo, even, of almost everything mentioned above—his face is nuzzled tight into the part between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavy with pants and grunts and whimpers leaving his mouth. he's so, so close, in every sense of the word—there's no space between you at all, not a single millimeter, and he's so close to coming he has to basically hold it in.

but chuuya just has to always make it even better.

it's when he hoists your upper body up from the bed and presses your back to his chest from this position as well that he starts reaching that particular spot inside you and oh, he moans in tandem with you when your moans get louder and you squeeze him tight enough to make him come on the spot. his fingers stutter slightly because of that but don't lose their rhythm on your clit and it's when he starts feeling like he's going to black out from how close he is that he starts mumbling "c'mon, baby, f—fuck, s' close— love you, love you, ah—" frantically while panting into the crook of your neck and fuck, is it the best orgasm he's had in years.

chuuya holds you with literally all his limbs for what feels like eternity after you both come. his hand is off your breast but instead both are now wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and he's pretty sure both of you are sweaty as hell but he just does not give a single shit. there might be stars in front of his eyes as he closes them, inhaling your scent and exhaling with thr sound of his loud heartbeat drumming in his ears. he doesn't dare pull out just yet—let him have it for a few moments—minutes—longer, please.

chuuya who falls asleep with his limbs intertwined with yours later on after—and every night—breathing evenly into the back of your neck, not daring to let go of your hand.

[aliwritex]

franco thoughts: 18+ car quickie 1.6k

“You should’ve stayed back, I know you get car sick”

“It’s fine, we’re not even moving anyway.”

You had been stuck in traffic for a while. You didn’t really know where you were but it was a busy avenue. The car was quiet, the radio barely audible and none of you saying much as the sky darkened above you. You had been sent to get some missing ingredients for dinner before the sun even set.

Now it was night, you hadn’t even gotten to the market yet and you were bored out of your mind. The only thing keeping you entertained was your shirtless boyfriend.

He was coming out of the pool when his dad threw the car keys at him, giving him the chore. You were kind of glad that he was such a stubborn person and didn’t listen to you telling him to change before getting in the car, he only threw a shirt over his shoulder instead.

You wish you could stop starring but the thing was, you had been staying with his family for the holidays so alone time was a tad more difficult. You had tried the first night you got there, of course, you missed each other and couldn’t stop your hands, but the next morning at breakfast you could see his family avoiding eye contact — so there was no way you’d do that again. But it had been more than a week now, and God, you were horny.

You couldn’t help but reach out for his thigh, he looked down at your hand and covered with his.

“You okay?”

He watched you nod and moved his hand away from yours after a squeeze. He didn’t get it. You removed your hand from his thigh and took it to your shirt undoing the first few buttons, exposing your chest and the bikini top that barely covered it. It took him a while to notice but when he did his eyes rolled back into his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting comfortable, looks like we’re gonna be here a while.”

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but not without your hand pressing hard on his thigh. When you sat back on your seat he was glaring at you.

Another idea popped in your head when you realized the first wasn’t working so well. Your hands dropped to your jean shorts, slowly unbuttoning them. Franco started watching you, eyes on your body as you struggled to get out of your shorts.

You heard him curse something in Spanish and it only made you smile as he moved the car a couple meters forwards. You spread your legs open on his passenger seat, only your bathing suit covering your bottom half. You caught him shaking his head from the corner of your eye as your fingers danced around your clothed middle.

“You’re fucking impossible” he muttered

“C’mon, Franco, let me touch you, I miss you so much” you practically whined “please?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just turned back to the road, relaxing and spreading his legs wider.

“You see that street over there?” he pointed through the glass “I’ll stop there to sort you out.”

“If you can last till we get there” you teased, dipping your hand into his shorts before he could even stop you.

He was starting to get hard, you could feel him becoming warmer and stiffer in your hand. His entire body tensed up for a second before he relaxed again. Franco shook his head when you started massaging him. Your palm ran up and down his shaft till you felt him completely hard in your hand, soft sighs leaving his lips.

You pulled away just to move in your seat, settling into a position where you could simply bend over the center console and face his crotch.

"Mi amor, please"

"Please, what?" you teased, lifting yourself till your lips where brushing his cheek, "want me to stop? Just say the word, yeah?" you kissed his face as your hand pulled him out of his shorts, making his eyes screw shut, still not saying anything. "Right, just enjoy, love"

You bent over again, your lips meeting his tip in a quick kiss before you spit on him. He groaned as you paused, waiting for the spit to drip down his shaft. A few more licks, quick kisses and soft touches till you sat back in your seat, leaving Franco confused, looking at you.

"The traffic lights, Franco" you told him, nonchalantly. He drove the car for a couple more meters before turning back to you. "I need you to concentrate, you don't wanna hit anyone in this state, do you?"

Your hand dropped to his lap again, grabbing him.

The spit helped as you started moving your hand up and down. You were being extremely slow with your movements, partly to tease him and partly so he would last.

Your hand worked skillfully around him, squeezing, thumb pressing his veins and his tip, making curses and moans fall from his lips. You tried to stop when he had to drive but it just made him more desperate.

"Don't cum yet, I really need you." you whispered to his cheek.

He nodded, flicking the turning signal on. The noise driving you insane for the next couple of minutes till he finally reached the street. He struggled to turn, almost scraping the car in front but nothing was gonna stop him. He parked behind a building, immediately pulling the handbrake.

"Come here" he whispered, pulling the seat back.

You chuckled as you climbed over him, sitting on his thighs. He finally felt your lips on his, soft and warm as they moved together in a rushed kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth as his hand dropped to your middle.

You felt his fingers tug your bikini to the side, easily sliding between your wet folds. A sigh left your lips when they pressed against your clit, making you pull away from the kiss. He smiled at your reaction and let his lips drag down the side of your face, meeting your neck.

Franco kissed and nibbled at your neck as you teased each other with your hands, sighs and soft moans leaving your mouths as you did.

“Fran, please” you whined, both of your hands going to his hair, tugging on it.

He nodded and pulled on the side tie of your bikini, making it come undone. Franco didn’t even bother with the other side, he just lifted your hips up and pushed you down on him. Satisfied groans left both of your mouths, your foreheads meeting.

“Ai, mi amor, missed this so much” he whispered, diving his hand into your hair to pull you into a kiss.

Your hands rested on his bare chest as you started moving. His own hand running up your waist to tug your bikini top out of his way. You moaned into his mouth when his cold palm met your breast, your nipples hardening because of the temperature.

Your hips moved against his in a slow rhythm, enjoying the drag of his skin against your clit as he kissed you. That was till he dropped both of his hands to your hips, guiding them up and down. Franco then wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you close to him.

He bounced his legs to help you move on him. His chin rested on your chest as he looked up at you, watching your face twist in pleasure. He couldn’t care less about his pleasure as he saw you use his body for your own.

You were shocked as you felt the warmth of pleasure grown inside of you so early but when your boyfriend took his hand between your bodies to circle at your clit there was no doubt that your orgasm was creeping up on you. Your walls were clenching around his cock as every single muscle in your body tensed up. His legs still bouncing to work you entirely as you reached your high.

He watched and felt all the little reactions your body had as you moaned. Your hands closed into fists on his hair, making him groan at the sting. Franco almost spilled inside you as you convulsed around him but he managed to ground himself, waiting for you to come down and finally pull out.

You smiled and kissed him, sitting back in his thighs. “You could’ve come inside, you know I don’t mind” you whispered to his neck, still lost in the bliss of your orgasm.

“No, I wanted to cum in your mouth, don’t want you to be a mess while we shop”

You smirked and moved away from him, settling back on your seat before bending over to take him in your mouth. He tasted like you when you first took him in so you made sure to clean him off, licking and sucking away all your wetness from him. His hand dropped to your hair, pulling it away from your face before he bucked his hips into your mouth, holding you in place as he shot ropes of cum.

A Spanish curse left his lips in a sigh as he finished and finally let go of you. “‘m sorry”

“You don’t need to apologize, love.” you pecked his cheek, “if I wanted you to stop you would’ve known.”

“You okay, though?” he asked as he tucked himself away.

“Perfect, love” you gave him a peck on the cheek.

You fixed your clothes as he took off and it turned out, there was a better way to the store, you were there in no time.