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[coquettebeautiful]

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[2hightocare]

BIRTHDAY CHAOS!

Synopsis: It’s Jungkook’s birthday and obviously it couldn’t just be a small get together… according to everyone.

Genre: comedy, found family, established relationships.

Pairing: DILF!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: curse words, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, family oriented, jungkook being sappy, just full on fluff, this is more bts centered than just jungkook and oc, cowboy jungkook YEEEHAW!

a/n: Tupac back! TUPAC BACK! hi im back… i haven’t been writing these pasts months like i used to— school has had me busy with so many papers that the idea of writing for anything outside school literally sends chills down my spine. BUT! i miss writing my very close imaginary family so enjoy🤍

…

"We're doing the absolute most," Jia sighs, slumping backward and releasing an untied balloon. It zooms across the floor, landing by your feet. "We're talking about the same person, right?" Eunbi asks from her position on the floor, colorful confetti spread out in front of her as she carefully glues a number onto the banner.

"Let’s not bully my man on his birthday," you playfully scold your best friend, giving her blonde hair a gentle tug.

Eunbi looks up at you with a pout. "Ow!" She scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out before returning to decorating the banner on the ground.

"That ‘happy birthday’ looks crooked as fuck," Taehyung comments, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at the colorful banner beside the long-haired blonde. "Ari, permission to clock his shit right now," Eunbi says, looking up to Taehyung’s wife, who is perched on Namjoon’s shoulders, sticking balloons to the wall.

"Permission granted," Ari mumbles around the tape in her mouth. "But stay away from his face; we have an event coming up." Her voice is clearer as she uses the tape to secure a balloon.

"Honey, you did not just—what the actual fuck?" Taehyung gasps dramatically, quickly dodging Eunbi’s attempt to hit him with a pair of confetti poppers.

"Girl, next time, aim for his balls—" Aera begins but is interrupted by the front door slamming open, making everyone freeze in place.

The room goes deathly quiet before everyone exhales in relief as Lora, Jimin, Daeun, Yoongi, and Seokjin come rushing through the door.

"Y/n, I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen," Yoongi says first, rushing to his wife on the floor. He drops a kiss on her cheek before looking up at you, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Don’t even! You helped us pick which one!" Jimin defends himself, placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. Lora laughs out loud, bouncing with excitement.

"You look too happy for anyone's peace of mind," Hoseok observes, a small smile of amusement on his face.

You raise an eyebrow, confused, both hands on your hips as you wait for someone to start explaining. "Before you get mad..." Lora begins, only to be silenced by your raised hand.

"I’m already mad," you sigh, making everyone burst into laughter.

"Jungkook said he wanted one, so we got it for him," Daeun explains, clicking his tongue and biting her lower lip anxiously. She’s the newest addition to your group—she and Jimin started dating a few months ago. Despite her shy nature, Daeun clicked with everyone quickly, although her personality is much more calm than anyone else’s she fit in perfectly. Still no one could beat Jungkook’s and Eunbi’s track record when it came to the most extroverted of the bunch.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for an explanation. At the same time, Seokjin nervously let out a small, low-pitched "giddy up," his voice cracked as he hesitated. He awkwardly mimed cracking a whip, glancing around with a sheepish grin, clearly embarrassed and already regretting it.

"You guys bought him a horse?" you gasp, eyes nearly popping out of your head as you watch everyone else's expressions mirror your shock. Silence fills the room, and it’s almost comedic when one of the balloons that Ari was blowing deflates. As everyone waits for your reaction, you hear the blonde on the ground whisper.

"Wait, he really wanted a horse? I thought he was joking! Babe—we should’ve gotten him the horse first as a thank you gift for giving me bubbles on my birthday," Eunbi whispers to her husband, who gives her a 'not now, baby' look.

Before you know it, you're pulling on Eunbi’s hair again. "The fuck are we going to do with a horse?" you sigh heavily, flailing your arms around.

One thing you learned from everyone is that they all go to great lengths for each other, no matter how ridiculous the idea or situation might be—and you fully participate in the chaos. But right now, the only thought in your mind is how you’re going to murder five people simultaneously.

"How did going for birthday hats end with you guys buying him a horse?" Joon asks, his face scrunched in confusion as Taehyung tries not to laugh while helping his wife off Namjoon’s shoulders.

"We didn’t buy one..." Jimin says, looking around nervously, waiting for someone to step in.

"We rented one!" Lora jumps in happily, clapping her hands. Her long, straight black hair bounces around her face as her deep dimples appear while she shoves her phone into your face.

"Isn’t it so cute? The person renting it out said his name is Rex, but I think he gives off more ‘Goody’ vibes." Lora shrugs happily, showing you multiple pictures of a huge, beautiful black horse.

"Can we talk about how big a horse shits," Seokjin mentions dramatically to the boys that stayed behind at the house. Your mind already making a mental note that the five responsible will be cleaning up after the horse in your backyard later.

"When is it getting here?" you sigh in defeat, making Lora clap excitedly.

"Aww, you didn’t crash out! Maturity looks so good on you, babes!" Eunbi cheers from the ground.

…

"I am not wearing this shit," Hoseok groans loudly, rolling his head back and stomping his feet like a child. "Why did I get the worst one out of everyone?" His hands flail dramatically as he explains, clearly annoyed that his t-shirt is, in his opinion, the most boring.

"You think yours is wack?" Eunbi side-eyes him, pointing at her own shirt. "I’m wearing a picture of Jungkook's face with the words, ‘Big dick is back in town.’" She reads it out loud before throwing her head back with an overly dramatic sigh.

"I low-key love mine," Jimin chimes in, striking multiple poses to show off his t-shirt, which reads, ‘I wish he was real,’ beneath a large photo of Jungkook giving a thumbs-up while wearing Iseul’s pink tutu.

"That’s because yours is cool! Mine is literally..." Hobi starts, sounding enthusiastic before suddenly clamming up, which causes Jia to burst out laughing beside him.

"Wait, now I wanna see it!" Eunbi’s face lights up, reaching for the shirt bunched up in Hoseok's hands.

"Stop! I love it!" Eunbi bursts into laughter as she reads the large text across the middle of his white shirt. "Show me!" Yoongi nudges his wife, poking her in the hip for her to move aside so he can see.

A grin spreads across his face as his eyes scan the words: ‘Sorry, princess, I only date DILFs who look like this,’ followed by a heart-shaped picture of Jungkook, shirtless, flexing his muscles with a pout on his lips. Yoongi can't hold back his laughter.

"I need to know who came up with these," Yoongi chuckles, dropping his head onto Eunbi’s shoulder, still shaking with amusement.

"I am not wearing this," Hoseok snaps, snatching the shirt back from Eunbi before crossing his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a sulking kid.

"Babe, you’re so cute," Jimin teases as he watches his girlfriend make her way to the small group, whistling as he gives his girlfriend, Daeun, a playful spin. She blushes, biting her lower lip as she reads aloud the words on her own shirt.

"‘Introverted but willing to discuss...’" Daeun pauses and points at the picture of Jungkook dramatically winking beneath the text.

"That one is so cute!" Jia claps happily beside Hoseok, who is still throwing a tantrum while Eunbi laughs and points at his pouty face.

You silently chuckle as you overhear their conversation shifting from shirts to whether they should have gotten a photo booth. You quickly announce that you’re going inside to get Iseul and yourself ready before heading into the house.

The laughter from the backyard fades as you close the sliding door behind you, having spent all morning decorating it. You take a moment to check the kitchen, living room, and walls, ensuring everything looks as you had planned before rushing upstairs to shower before Iseul wakes from her nap.

After showering, blow-drying, and straightening your hair, you start to hear small whines from Iseul as she begins to wake up. You poke your head out of the bathroom and into your and Jungkook’s room, finding Iseul sitting up in bed. Her hair is disheveled, and she’s rubbing her chubby hands over her eyes, surrounded by pillows creating a makeshift barrier.

“Hi, my love,” your voice soars to a higher pitch as you approach her. “How’d you sleep, baby?” You coo, brushing her small light curls away from her face, gently poking her cheeks before planting a kiss on them both.

“I slept good,” Iseul murmurs softly, finally opening her eyes. Her Bambi-like gaze looks up at you. “Is Daddy here yet? It’s his birfday.” Your four-year-old scans the room, only to pout in disappointment when she realizes it’s just you both in the room.

“He’s almost here, so we need to make you look pretty! Okay?” You poke her small side, making her giggle and nod enthusiastically. You wrap your arms around her, holding her tight as you lift her and carry her to her room. You carefully set her down on the bed before heading into her closet to find the outfit you had planned. You also grab a couple of alternative pants options just in case the original choice doesn’t work out.

“Okay, you have two options. Pick,” you say, emerging from the closet with two pairs of bottoms. “Skirt or jeans?” You wave the options as Iseul puts her index finger on her chin and furrows her eyebrows, deep in thought. “What are you wearing?” she asks carefully, making you smile. “A skirt,” you reply, watching her nod several times before pointing at the skirt in your left hand.

"I wanna wear a skirt too!” she exclaims with a beaming smile, her dimples—clearly inherited from her dad—showing prominently.

You nod in approval and quickly help her change and brush her teeth. You also brush her hair, letting it flow down her back.

“Okay, pose for me, princess,” you giggle as you watch your daughter smile and place her hands on her hips, striking a pose.

“Okay, now stand still and look down at your shoes for me.” You ask, as she hums and gazes at her Adidas shoes and white socks with ruffles, while you click away on your camera. “You’re so beautiful,” you coo, finally standing up and reaching for your daughter’s hand to guide her outside so you can finish your makeup and get dressed.

As you open the glass door to the backyard, she finally speaks. “I know, Daddy told me I’m the most beeyootiful girl ever.” She quips before stepping out, where Yejoon—who just got here, after being dropped off by his grandparents from his dad’s side—rushes toward her, and Eunbi and Taehyung quickly start showering her with compliments about her custom-made shirt as if it were a competition.

You laugh as you watch Eunbi’s smile falter when Iseul jumps into Taehyung’s arms first. You shout that you’ll be right back, earning several thumbs up from the group. As you rush back to your room, your phone rings in your back pocket. You quickly pluck it out and see a picture of you smiling at the camera with your husband’s bicep cradling your face, making you smile as you press the green button and click ‘speaker.’

“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice comes through as you place the phone down on the counter and start your makeup.

“Hi,” you reply, tucking your hair back out of your face.

“Hi, my obnoxiously gorgeous wife, I miss you,” Jungkook says, and you smile, hearing the warmth in his voice.

“Are my girls ready? I’m almost home,” he continues. You giggle and reply with a small “yes” as you blend concealer under your eyes.

You had told Jungkook the other night that instead of a party, you wanted to take him out to eat for his birthday, just the three of you. He agreed immediately, not knowing it was a complete lie. Knowing damn well the group chat you just have made the other day with everyone from the already standing “plan b survivors” group chat with the exclusion of Jungkook—obviously—was currently being spammed with multiple suggestions of whether getting a bouncy house was a good idea or not.

“Your mom sent me her GIF not too long ago; it’s the best one she’s sent to date,” Jungkook says, making you burst out laughing, knowing exactly which kind of GIF he means. Your mom has a habit of sending extravagant GIFs with blooming flowers and sparkles, with bold text that reads something completely different depending on the mood, situation or event.

“She edited me into the background this time. You know, the one where I’m flexing my muscles with those pink ribbons you tied on them,” he recounts, and you hum in agreement, knowing exactly what picture he’s talking about since you were the one who took and sent it to your mom.

“I love the way confetti pops the moment you click on it to play,” he chuckles, making you mirror his smile.

As he continues talking about how everyone wished him a happy birthday at the meeting he had to attend—scheduled long ago and unmissable—you listen as he changes topics to how he plans to start taking Iseul to swimming classes while you finish your makeup.

“Okay, baby, I’m around the corner. Can you put an outfit out for me so I can shower and change quickly?” Jungkook asks as you apply the last coat of mascara to your eyelashes.

Humming in agreement, you reply, “Okay, and I already did, baby,” as you twist the mascara cap shut and check yourself one last time in the mirror before grabbing your phone and heading to both your clothes laid out on the bed.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, as you return the sentiment before he disconnects.

You quickly change into your t-shirt, tying a rubber band at the back to create a crop top. You follow up by slipping into your denim mini skirt, not even taking a minute to check if it fits perfectly as you rush to find socks and matching shoes to match Iseul’s. The moment you’re dressed, you hurry downstairs, turning off every light as you make your way to the backyard, where everyone’s eyes turn to you.

“He’s coming, everyone hide!”

The position you were in was uncomfortable as hell, and no one seemed to be enjoying themselves. Iseul started to whine, complaining that her knees hurt from crouching behind the couch, which prompted Ye Joon to comment smugly that “she isn’t as strong as he is,” earning a loud “shhh” from Ari. The twins, Nari and Yeseol, were also not having it. Barely a year old, both blondes were already driving Eunbi and Yoongi crazy—you could hear Yoongi trying to calm down Nari from behind the kitchen counter, as she teetered on the verge of crying.

From your peripheral vision, you caught a glimpse of Aera and Namjoon making funny faces to distract Nari and keep her from crying. You also noticed Jiho texting on his phone, his brows furrowed in concentration. You tried not to laugh when Jia snatched his phone away, scolding him to “pay attention.”

Suddenly, your heart fluttered as you heard the front door open, followed by Jungkook’s familiar voice calling out.

“Baby, where are you?” he called, murmuring under his breath about how dark it was. He moved towards the light switch and flicked it on. Before he could react, everyone shouted, “Surprise!” as colorful confetti burst from poppers, flying everywhere and littering the floor.

“Oh, fuck!” he shrieked, clutching his chest in surprise.

“Happy birthday!” everyone yelled together, rushing forward to hug him. Iseul was the first to reach him, raising her short arms for her dad to pick her up. “Happy birfday, Daddy!” Iseul kissed his cheek as Jungkook smiled brightly, while Lora snapped multiple pictures with her camera. “Your shirt, princess,” your husband beamed, reading the words and poking her side, making her squirm. “You’re a hundred percent ‘Birthday boy favorite girl,’” Jungkook said, pressing a big kiss to her cheek, reading off her shirt.

“Happy birthday, my brother,” Taehyung and Jimin chimed in, launching themselves at Jungkook the moment he set his daughter down to greet everyone else. “Where’s my gift? I don’t think my wife would’ve let anyone in without a gift fee,” Jungkook joked, patting Jimin on the back.

“I was thinking about what to get you, and I realized you don’t need anything—you already have me. I even debated wrapping myself since I’m clearly the biggest gift in your life,” Taehyung said, making everyone burst into laughter. “Exactly what I thought too,” Jimin added, earning a side-eye from Taehyung.

“Just two dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactly!’” Eunbi mocked behind them, scooting in-between the boys to give Jungkook a hug.

“Hi, blondie,” your husband teases, poking your best friend’s side, before laughing at the words on her shirt. “Big dick back in town!” Jungkook guffawed, throwing his head back in laughter.

You watched with a huge smile plastered across your face as your husband finishes hugging everyone and complimenting their shirts. Once he had said his hellos, his eyes finally met yours. His grin widened, and he walked towards you. Feeling playful, you shifted all your weight to one leg and twirled your hair around your index finger, giving him an innocent look that made him burst out laughing.

“Hi,” Jungkook smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Hi,” you smile back, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. He gave you a quick wink before leaning down to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a slow, agonizing pace.

Smiling into the kiss, he finally pulled away as everyone started whistling in the background.

“There are kids here!” Namjoon shouted playfully, watching as Jungkook stuck his tongue out at him like a child.

“You take my breath away every damn time, baby,” Jungkook says, turning back to face you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm, really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles, his gaze drifting from your shoes back up to your eyes. “Yes, really,” he says, biting his lower lip.

“Okay, we get it. You guys are in love. Can we go eat now?” Jiho interrupted, looking up from his phone with a bored expression, clearly used to this level of PDA, since his own parents were just as bad.

Everyone laughed and agreed, while Jiho earned a light swat on the back of his head from his mom for “interrupting a moment.” Lora shook her head in mock disappointment, quickly passing her camera to Ari to place on the marble table before ushering everyone towards the backyard.

“Happy birthday again,” you whisper to your husband, stopping him before you could join the others who were waiting to show him the bouncy house and decorations.

“Thank you, baby,” he voices out, his voice soft and serious, making your heart clench. “Always,” you reply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips again.

“I like your shirt,” Jungkook murmurs just for you, his voice low and teasing. You bite your lip, meeting his gaze.

“I mean, it’s true,” you shrug playfully, watching the slow smile spread across his face. His thumb and index finger toy with your belly ring that you’ve just put back in, and he tilts his head with a grin. “I’m hoping I got a shirt and it says ‘I heart milfs’ to match yours,” he jokes, his smile faltering when he notices the way your lips press together.

“What does it say?” he sighs, bracing for disappointment.

“‘Birthday boy,’” you reveal, trying not to laugh as his jaw drops in exaggerated shock.

“That’s not fair! I was expecting something wild like everyone else’s. How does Eunbi get ‘big dick back in town,’ and I get ‘birthday boy’?” He pouts, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Well, aren’t you the birthday boy?” you tease, placing your manicured hand over his, resting on your belly.

“I guess...” He blows out a dramatic sigh, making you giggle.

“I missed your belly piercing,” he says softly, tugging gently on the teardrop ring in your belly button.

“And I miss your lip piercing,” you reply, brushing a finger over his bottom lip. “Please put it back in. Hopefully, Iseul doesn’t tug on it like last time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he groans, shuddering at the memory. Remembering how his daughter yanked on his lip piercing with all the strength a one-year-old could muster.

“Thank you for everything,” he says, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of your skirt and pulling you into a tight embrace. “I appreciate everything you do and more. I know this whole thing was your idea. Thank you,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t make me cry,” you sniffle, feeling him press small kisses along your neck. Your hands rub soothing circles on his back, and you stay wrapped in each other’s arms for a minute, though it felt like only seconds. “I love you so much, baby,” he continues, squeezing your cheeks with both hands and forcing your lips into a pout before kissing them.

“I love you,” you reply, kissing his nose, making him chuckle.

“Is it bad that I want everyone to leave already so I can just spend time with you?” he whispers as you both walk towards the glass sliding door. “Lowkey yeah,” you chuckle, stopping at the door and looking up at him, only to find him already gazing at you.

“What?” you giggle, feeling shy under his intense stare.

“Nothing, just one more kiss, please. Count it as my early birthday gift,” he winks, leaning down to capture your lips again. You pull back with a laugh when you felt his tongue start to intrude. “Baby…” Jungkook whines, a goofy grin still on his face as he tugs you closer.

“Jeo—” you start, but he interrupts, kissing you again, this time swirling his tongue with yours. Your shoulders slump as his hands cradle your face, keeping you in place before separating with a small string of saliva connecting you.

“Sorry, it’s my birthday,” he whispers against your lips, before finally opening the sliding glass door and extending an arm to guide you outside. You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small yelp when you felt his hand smack your ass as you walked past him through the door.

“It’s my birthday,” he says with a cheeky grin, raising his hands in defense when you shot him a warning glare.

…

Everyone is drunk, and things spiral out of control quickly.

The moment Jungkook steps out of the house, freshly showered and changed into his matching t-shirt like everyone else, everything becomes a blur. After countless photos taken on Lora’s camera, you all eat, sing happy birthday, and Jungkook blows out his candles before cutting the cheesecake you made him the night before.

By ten at night, the kids are sent inside to sleep, and that’s when the chaos begins.

“You’re fucking lying!” Jungkook yells, eyes wide as Seokjin and a man lead a huge black horse through the backyard doors.

“Where’s my camera?!” Lora screams, looking around frantically.

“It’s inside!” Ari shouts back. Before you can react, a head of caramel curls dashes into your house.

"That thing is literally humongous," Namjoon mutters, running a hand over his face, his eyes slightly red from all the alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be talking,” Jimin retorts, eyeing Namjoon up and down, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

“You’re just mad you’re short,” Namjoon fires back, but you’ve already tuned them out, watching as Jungkook climbs onto the horse with the help of the owner.

“This is such a bad idea,” you screech, covering your eyes.

“Here!” Ari runs back out, handing Lora her camera. She immediately starts snapping photos of Jungkook, now balanced on the horse.

"Hold on tight, bro!" Yoongi yells as Jungkook wobbles before finding his balance as the horse starts walking.

"Baby, look at me!" Jungkook calls out, taking off his shirt, revealing his flexed muscles as he jokingly cracks an imaginary whip. Your heart skips a beat—stomach flips—half from how ridiculously handsome he looks and half from the fear that he might fall.

Lora, on the other hand, is in her element, snapping photos like her life depends on it.

“I wanna ride next!” Eunbi cheers, jumping up and down.

“I’ve never seen you this excited to ride me before,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, causing everyone to groan.

“Brother, eugh!” Hoseok fake gags, while Jungkook laughs from atop the horse. Eunbi’s face turns pink as she playfully pushes Yoongi, who apologizes profusely for his comment.

"Baby, can we keep it?" Jungkook asks, flashing you his signature doe eyes.

"Fuck no," you respond immediately, leaving no room for negotiation.

"You’ve only got an hour—make the most of it," you shrug, moving closer to the horse.

"An hour only?" Jungkook gasps, glancing at his friends as if they betrayed him. "Y/n didn’t want the horse, we had to compromise, lil bro," Yoongi says matter-of-factly, making Jungkook roll his eyes playfully.

"Come on, baby, let’s ride," Jungkook says, winking as he pats his lap, motioning for you to hop on, which earns a chorus of fake gags from your friends.

The hour passes in a whirlwind of laughter and screaming. Everyone takes turns riding the horse, which ends with Ari nearly face-planting, sending everyone into a panic—except for the owner, who looks like he’s ready to be done with all of you and head home.

"Shot! Shot! Shot!" the group chants as you down a shot of tequila, scrunching your face in disgust, earning more laughter. Jungkook rubs circles on your back as the cold liquor burns its way down your throat. "Fuck!" you exclaim, tapping your chest like it’ll help with the heartburn.

"You did so good, princess," Jungkook praises, tossing back his shot like it’s water, letting out an exaggerated "ah" as he sets the glass down.

It’s nearly two in the morning now. The horse is long gone, and everyone is utterly trashed. The guys, all shirtless, are slumped around the backyard, claiming it’s too hot—likely the alcohol talking.

"Five, six, five, six, seven, eight!" Eunbi shouts as the speaker blasts "Hot to Go," jumping onto a chair and belting out the lyrics.

"Here she goes," Taehyung sighs jokingly, watching Eunbi throw herself into the song.

"You’re her biggest opp," Aera comments with a smile as Jungkook joins Eunbi, copying her arm movements.

"Opp stands for opposite, right?" Taehyung asks, which sends everyone into another round of laughter.

"Opponent, dumbass," Jimin smacks him on the back of the head, snickering at Taehyung's widened eyes.

"Did you guys read the weight limit for the bouncy house?" you ask out of nowhere, standing up, suddenly eager to jump around.

"There’s a weight limit?" Daeun and Seokjin ask simultaneously, then look at each other. "Jinx!" they say in unison, making you laugh.

"Yeah, the person who rents them usually tells you," you explain, kicking off your shoes before climbing into the character-themed bouncy house. You barely stand up before everyone starts piling in.

"If anyone throws up, I’ll kill you—" Lora screeches as Taehyung accidentally shoves her, sending her face-first into the bouncy floor. "I’m so sorry!" he laughs, trying to help her up despite the bouncing of everyone.

"Guys, I think it might pop," Daeun warns, clinging to Jimin for balance. You try reaching for Jungkook but get launched across the bouncy house by the devil herself, Eunbi.

"Ah!” You scream, laughing as you tumble into Lora. The laughter doesn’t last long, though, as a loud pop echoes through the air. Everyone stills before panic sets in as the bouncy house deflates rapidly, and everyone scrambles to the small exit.

You all stand in stunned silence, staring at the flattened bouncy house sprawled across the grass. Despite knowing how much trouble you're in with the renter, you can’t help but laugh.

"Welp, happy birthday to me," Jungkook shrugs with a grin.

🐈‍⬛: @allie-is-a-panda @minghaosimp @nicolepvp8 @blaricee @parkinglot-nights @jmscaffeine @httpjeonlicious @jeonjungkooksbabamomma @army061313 @crazyovayou @thvvcut (idk why some don’t tag😔)

[cherienymphe]

Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

~

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

 It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

[enhalouv]

lee heeseung - birthday boy (boyfriend texts + drabble)

a/n: a belated birthday fic for my baby!! THERES A DRABBLE AT THE END BTW!! hope you enjoy ;)

pairing: heeseung x f!reader

warnings: the texts r fluffy, w a lil bit of smut heh, lots of kissing!!, clothed humping lol, fingering, oral f!receiving, hee is a muncher, overstimulation, lil bit of dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex whoops

w.c: 2.2k

“Did you like it?”

Heeseung hums, nestling deeper into the crevice between your jaw and neck.

You had gotten home from the party, all numb limbs and sweaty bodies, Both tiredly shuffling into the cramped shower stall. By the time you’d gotten out and ready for bed, it was already 3:15am. You both flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, shuffling to get under the covers.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones, the night long and wearying. Not by the party itself, per say, but the happenings before it. Your phone had rung non-stop as people bombarded it with questions ranging from where they could park to whether the cake was gluten-free. By the time Heeseung had arrived, there was a small pounding at the back of your head.

You had booked a small venue to hold all of Heeseung’s friends. But, the owners wouldn’t let you come in early to decorate, so you’d rallied Jungwon and Sunoo to help with the mere hour they’d given you.

Glinting fairy lights and strings of balloons donned the walls, a huge banner hung up at the bar depicting a baby Heeseung with a drawn-on party hat - courtesy of Jaeyun. You had even gone out of your way to find baby pictures to play a slideshow on the two separate screens displayed at the venue. Scouring his parents’ baby books and various photos hung up around his family home.

By the time the party started, all the decorations were up and the food and drinks were sorted, everything fell right into place. Seeing Heeseung’s surprised face as he entered the venue was well worth the stress you endured.

He had come to you immediately, scooped you up in a hug and spun you around, giggling about how amazed he was and how happy he was that you’d done something like this for him. You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that arose as he spew gratitude to his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ during his birthday speech.

Now that you were home and all danced-out, you couldn’t help but relive the night and all its glorious moments.

“You did amazing, baby. Worked that little butt off to make me the happiest man there.”

Heeseung’s lips stretch into a smile, tickling your neck, dropping a sweet kiss at the base of your throat. He peppers the skin there with tiny kisses, squirming on top of you as you giggle.

One particular kiss has your breath hitching. One accompanied with his tongue laving at the skin. Heeseung sucks at the skin softly, making his way up the column of your throat.

“Heeseung…” you whimper, hands grip at his shoulders as you tilt your head. He takes your invitation and pushes himself against you harder, the outline of his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

Hands wander down your body, slipping under your pyjama top and gripping your waist. You could feel the heat growing between your bodies. The way your heart beat faster and breathing got shallower. The feeling of dreaminess clouding your being as you felt like you were floating at the gentle caress of Heeseung’s hands.

“Should I thank you for your hard work?”

Pressing up against him, you let out a breathless moan, “Please.”

Lifting slightly, Heeseung makes quick work of your top, tossing it behind him before diving down to trail kisses down your chest. His hands squeeze at your breasts, forefingers flick at your already hard nipples. The sensation makes you buck your hips into him, seeking any sort of friction to calm the restlessness you feel itching at your skin.

You like when Heeseung takes his time. He gives every inch of you and your body attention, paying mind to how your body reacts - what things you like and those you don’t. Yet right now, he’s moving far too slow. You think he enjoys torturing you just a little bit. Likes watching you wriggle around for any sort of touch where you need it most.

Slot between your legs, Heeseung stares up you with hooded eyes as he leans down and swipes his tongue against your nipple. Your body arches, hand gripping the back of his head to push him further down into your chest. Heeseung takes his time, lips smear with his own spit as he obscenely sucks and drools all of your tits. His hands knead at the other, ensuring neither is unattended to for very long.

He was driving you mad.

“Fuck,” cursing, Heeseung grinds down into the bed, his cock hard and strains against his boxers. “You did so well for me today, love. Worked so hard to make me happy, didn’t you?”

At his words he trails a hand down to press roughly against your core. He feels the dampness settling between your thighs through your shorts, nipping tenderly at your nipple. Heeseung presses the heel of his palm where he knows your clit is and grinds it against you.

Your head tosses back into the pillows and you moan unabashedly as you press up into his palm. Your cunt now soaked merely by the feeling of Heeseung’s teeth scraping against your nipples and his hand pressing deeply between your thighs. Why you felt so on edge already was mystifying. You had a feeling the weariness from earlier aided to heighten your senses, making you particularly reactive to Heeseung’s advances.

To be honest, Heeseung could probably get off to watching you alone. He’s so hard between his legs, aching as he watches your body writhe in his hold as he presses against you harder.

“Good girl. Already so close and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

You groan, hiding your face in your pillow, embarrassed at how true his words were. Your hips stutter as you notice Heeseung watching in your peripheral. Three years and the way Heeseung watches you unravel yourself by his own doing will always make you shy. It’s like he’s completely absorbed into watching your every reaction, how you body moves and reacts to his touch.

The extra attention and the pressure between your legs spurs you on. Your hips grind harder against his palm, your cunt dampening your shorts as you chase your high. Heeseung’s mouth is back against your chest, playing with your nipples in a way that has you mewling. Heeseung’s palm presses a tad harder, the pressure going straight against your clit. With eyes still trained on you, Heeseung fondles your chest and watches as your body suddenly goes taunt, a low moan slipping out as you shudder through your orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, ride it out for me,” Heeseung coos, tucking strands of hair behind your ear and gently caressing the side of your face as you come down. “You’re doing so well.”

Your orgasm left your body hypersensitive. The deft fingers inching down your torso, the palm now splayed flat against your hip - all of it felt heightened.

With a knowing smile, Heeseung presses two fingers against your covered core. Your whole body flinches, letting out a shocked gasp as Heeseung continues to slowly circle his fingers right where your clit is.

He’s sadistic. Heeseung couldn’t help but derive pleasure from watching your overstimulated body writhe this way and that from his ministrations.

Heeseung pulls back, giving you room to calm down. He reaches down to his boxers and palms the uncomfortable hardness. He can’t help but groan as he savours the image of your body covered in small bruises and your puffy nipples that stood erect from his mouth.

You look beautiful.

“Hee,” your voice calls out to him, hands reach out to cradle his face with a look of pure adoration. “Please, I want you.”

He can’t contain the groan at your words, his dick throbs in his hand.

He pulls out of his boxers and turns to take your shorts off, enjoying the way they stick to your pussy, a string of cum connecting them.

Without thinking, Heeseung spreads your folds and leans in and licks a stripe against your cunt. Moaning at the taste, Heeseung begins flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, relishing in the unrestrained sounds you let out at the feeling.

Heeseung lifts your legs to press them against your chest, leaving you entirely exposed to his mouth. He pushes his face into your pussy, groaning as cum smears against his face as he swipes his head from side to side, tongue flicking out and catching on your clit.

Fingers inch closer to your hole, the tip presses gently before sliding in with ease. The slick pouring from within you help. The squelching sound as he pulls in and out has him stifling a moan, loving the way you squirm beneath him.

“Ah, ah-Heeseung!”

He could tell you were getting close with the way you grip the fabric of his comforter, your hips lift to press his mouth deeper into your pussy. Heeseung pulls his fingers out momentarily to press the wetness onto your clit, moving his fingers quickly side-to-side just as you like, before he thrusts them back into you. His mouth covers your clit, sucking and flicking as you rode out your high - your second orgasm of the night.

Heeseung couldn’t help but keep taking in the taste of your cunt even as you shudder through oversensitivity. His tongue pushes into your hole to encase his tastebuds entirely.

“God, Heeseung, please,” you begged, tears edging your waterline, “Please fuck me, I need you inside me right now!”

Groaning, Heeseung pulls down his boxers and kicks them off to the end of the bed. He lifts and pulls you towards him. Your legs spread and his hand grips the softness, the other lining his cock with your entrance.

“Ready?”

“If you don’t get in me right now, so help me God-“

Your complaints cease as Heeseung pushes into you, his cock stretching you out so well. His hips meet your pelvis and he leans down to cover your mouth with his own. Sobbing into his mouth, Heeseung’s tongue slips in to swipe against your teeth.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans and rolls his hips. His cock feels suffocated, wet and warmth surrounding it driving him insane. Your walls were practically sucking him in, trying to milk him of all his cum.

Nails dig into Heeseung’s hands as he starts inching out. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, jaw slack and sweat beading at your forehead. Two orgasms in and your body was thrumming. The need to be filled and stuffed full of Heeseung’s cum, your body was practically calling out for it.

Relaxing into the steady pace Heeseung sets, your body goes lax after a few moments. This lets him pull out with ease. Lets him set a newer, faster pace.

Heeseung pulls out leaving only the tip resting at your entrance, head tilting up to see your face, “Feels good, baby? My cock making you feel good?”

You couldn’t even formulate a response, head sagging against the pillows as your back arches. Your pussy clenched around nothing as Heeseung strokes his tip against your now swollen clit. Your body felt like it was on fire.

Watching your face crumple in displeasure at the emptiness, Heeseung pushes all the way in again, spurred on by the way your nails dig into his shoulders.

After a particularly hard thrust, Heeseung lets go of your thighs and leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss - hands cupping your heated cheeks. Your legs wrap around his waist, caging him there.

It’s a miraculous feat that you didn’t die right there. Heeseung relentlessly fills you up, pushing a hand up against your lower back forcing it to curve into a delicious arch. His cock pounds into the exact spot that makes you splutter and moan.

“That’s it baby,” Heeseung growls, his voice dipping lower. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Does my pretty girl like it?”

Barely able to say a word, you nod your head weakly a mantra of “yes, yes, yes,” tumbling from your lips. Heeseung revels in it.

He had fucked you completely and utterly dumb.

Leaning back to take in the mess he’s made, Heeseung presses his hand against your lower stomach. The pressure combined with the hard thrusts has your back bend deeper. The new position ensuring that every inch of Heeseung’s length was penetrating your walls, leaving nothing untouched.

The thought alone had you succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure. Your pussy tightening around his thick length, making it difficult for Heeseung to move. And yet he kept pounding into you. Never once letting up as your body trembled through your third orgasm of the night.

“Fuck,” Heeseung moans, his hips continue to slap against you, driving his cock deeper. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

It was all the warning you got before his hips still, burying deep within you and you physically feel his cock pulse at he fills you to the brim. You felt so full. His head tucked into your neck breathing deep as his body laid lax in your hold. You continue to roll your hips, making him whimper.

Your panting, sweaty bodies lay over one with your and hands clasped. You pepper kisses along Heeseung’s neck, while he runs his hands softly up and down your sides.

You feel floaty as Heeseung pulls out of you, turning onto his side and bringing you in. You snuggle into his arms, and groan at the sticky feeling between your legs, of Heeseung’s cum leaking down your thighs.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

[webdollzz]

Birthday girl ᯓᡣ𐭩

a/n: in light of my girls birthday…thought i’d write this. @scoobywrites690, happy birthday mama. i hope you had the best day ever (and this makes it that little bit better)

warnings: SEX! BIRFDAY SEXXX. mixes up between rough n soft. oral (f rec), mating press?? ish? multiple orgasms,

Simon did anything he could to make sure he would be back just in time for your birthday. Sure, being in the military, you didn’t have much — or any at all — control over when you got to go home, but he still tried.

And thankfully, he did manage to.

On the day of your birthday, infact. Best gift ever, right?

You were still out, likely with friends or something along those lines, so it meant he had the house to himself for an unknown amount of time, so he had to do the best with what he can.

He ran to the nearby hobby store, where he knew there would be banners, balloons, all the birthday decorations.

One hand taping banners to the wall, mouth occupied blowing up a balloon and his other hand holding it so it didn’t just fly out his mouth.

He was trying his hardest to get it all done before you came back.

When you entered the house, bag draped over your shoulders, you let out a sigh of relief at finally being able to just collapse and watch a movie until you fell asleep.

You kicked off your shoes, throwing them somewhat towards the direction of the shoe case.

You wished Simon was here, it’d make everything so much easier for you. You understood his job wasn’t necessarily the easiest to get away from, anything but infact, but you could still wish you had your husband with you.

Switching on the lights, a loud gasp ripped from your throat at the sight of a tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room.

When you realised it was your tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room, with a dorky smile and a balloon is hands — you could swear you wanted to scream.

Wordlessly, you let the bag drop from your shoulders, nose scrunching as tears filled your eyes. You shuffled towards him, falling into his chest head first and wrapping your arms tightly around him.

He reciprocated — of course — his arms going around your waist tightly and practically lifting you off your feet.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” You whispered into his chest, sniffling away your tears. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry this year.

“I’d never miss my wife’s birthday.” He kissed the crown of your head, peppering more all over your forehead before reaching your cheek.

“C’mon,” He tugged you away from him, having to begrudgingly separate you two like velcro. “There’s more.”

He pulled you along, walking past all the banners and balloons, being led to the bedroom.

Rose petals led the way, his warm hand enveloping yours; and you gripped him just that little bit tighter.

There was candles lit, the ceiling light off so they were the only thing illuminating the bed, which was covered in various things.

More rose petals, some bath salts, bubbles, a large teddy bear (which won’t fit anywhere in your already cluttered, hoarder house), a few pieces of jewellery, some chocolate and fluffy socks. ‘Cause who doesn’t love fluffy socks?

You sniffled again, looking at all the presents he managed to get you in the maybe four hour span you weren’t home and he was.

“I know s’ not a lot, I didn’t know how long you were going to be.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared at what he classes as a sad display.

You grabbed him by the shirt, tugging him down to your level a little, watching his eyes flick away from the bed to you.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Well, who is he to deny that?

He smiled before his head tilted down the rest of the way down, lips brushing hours before they locked in a kiss. A kiss filled with passion, longing, and need.

It had been so long since you had kissed Simon, that you almost had forgotten the pressure of his kiss entirely.

It started slow, sensual, soft. His hands drifting from your waist to your cheeks, thumb slowly stroking them. Your hands went from his chest to the back of his neck, tugging him closer and deepening the kiss.

The kiss went from slow and sensual to fast and needy, very quickly. He took a step forward, and you backed up until your knees hit the bed; not breaking the kiss.

He went to push you back against the bed, but got interrupted by your little wince of being poked in the back with a bottle of bubble bath.

He grumbled, taking the objects off one by one and putting them on the dresser, walking backing forth and making you laugh at him.

You pushed all the remaining stuff off the bed, hopping onto it and leaning back on your elbows, legs spread invitingly.

He smirked, approaching slowly and moving to kneel between your legs.

“Where do you want me, my love?” He asked, peppering kisses along your cheek before they drifted down to your neck.

You grabbed his wrist, slowly guiding his hand to your jean clad cunt, making a slow smirk form on his lips that you could feel against your skin.

“Can’t say no to the birthday girl, can I?” He practically purred against your skin before his hands fumbled at your jean buttons, tugging them down your thighs before he threw them to the floor.

Upon seeing the already forming wet patch on your panties, he let out a low laugh as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit through your panties.

“So wet already ‘n’ we ain’t even started.” He teased, dripping his head down to begin kissing your neck again.

“Shut up and just fuck me, ‘kay?” You hissed through gritted teeth, hand going to the back of his head to keep him where he is.

He hummed slowly, fingers tugging your panties down your legs and dismissing them else where, pushing your legs open wide before leaning back — getting a nice, long look at you.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” He groaned, hands sliding up your body and going to the hem of your shirt, pulling that off and throwing it, leaving you completely exposed to the cool air of your bedroom.

You shivered, before bucking your hips closer to him to try and find friction, letting a soft — almost pained — whimper leave your lips.

“Please.” Was all it took from you, and he was sliding between your legs until he was led on his chest.

Usually, he’d have you beg way more than that, but since it’s your birthday, he figured you can have it easy just this once.

“M’ getting to it, baby.” He said through his kisses he scattered along your inner thighs, big, strong arms wrapping around them to keep them spread open for him.

“Si..” You cried, head falling back against the pillow as you began getting impatient, hips attempting to shuffle towards him so he’d just fucking get there faster.

But unfortunately, his burly tatted arms kept you from doing such.

He ignored your pleas, continuing his kisses and occasional nibbles as he made his way closer and closer to your wet cunt, watching the way you tried to squirm and the way you clenched around nothing.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flattened his tongue and ran it up the length of your pussy, from your needy hole to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a harsh gasp and a hand fly to his hair, tugging on it.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently and making your noises grow louder and more frequent, pulling him closer and putting your thighs around his head.

“Fuck, Si. Don’t stop.” You cried, heavy breathing and loud moans falling from your pretty lips as two fingers prodded at your entrance, the intrusion making you hiss softly before it heightened your pleasure — the same reaction you always had.

He watched you intently, slowly guiding his fingers in and out of you as his mouth lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning when you’d tug on his hair a little bit harder.

You lifted your head, eyes half lidded as you looked down to see him already staring at you, hips slightly grinding against the mattress below you.

The sight had the knot in your stomach twisting tighter, brows furrowing as your thighs began shaking.

“Si — Simon, m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum.” You whisper-chanted at him, and he just continued the same movements, not changing the rhythm of his fingers as they curled inside you, feeling your warm walls flutter as you grew closer and closer.

He pulled away, gently leaning his head on your inner thigh as he stared at you like a love sick puppy, hips humping at the mattress. Like a bitch in heat.

“It’s okay, love. Cum f’me, c’mon.” He cooed, giving you a little nod before his head dipped back down and lapped at you like a man starved.

If it wasn’t for the hot heat of pleasure rushing through your entire body and mind, the wet sound of him pumping his fingers in and out of you, and his mouth sucking at your sensitive cunt would’ve normally felt you embarrassed.

But you were too occupied to be insecure right now.

“Fuck, fuck. M’ cumming, m’ cumming!” You gasped, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you in harsh and hot waves, a long drawn out moan leaving your throat.

He nearly came in his boxers from the sight of you cumming alone, his eyes fluttering gently as they never strayed away from you.

Your body finally relaxed against the bed and his movements slowed to a stop, before he pulled away and kissed your pussy, then your stomach, chest, neck, jaw, and finally: lips.

You sighed softly at the taste of yourself against his tongue as he kissed you, his hands going to his trousers to pull at them until they were off him and on the floor instead — boxers following suit rather quickly.

Using your slick left on his fingers, he jerked himself off just a little before lining himself up with your entrance, breaking the kiss to watch.

His large hands hooked underneath your weak, trembling thighs, pushing them to your chest as you let out another sigh, head falling back and eyes closing as you felt his tip nudging against your clit.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you letting out a low moan as he did so, sliding in with ease until he was buried to the hilt, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he forced himself to not cum.

He wanted at least one more out of you before he did.

“Move — please, move. I need it.” You coaxed him, hands fumbling with the bottom sheets as you tried to push yourself into him further.

“Mhm, I am, I am.” He whispered softly, voice comforting as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, ankles now dangling by his head.

His arm wrapped around your thighs, forcing them flat against his front as his other arm was supporting his body weight so he didn’t completely crush you.

He began slowly thrusting into you, easing you in as he was on deployment for a while and he knows your stupid toys don’t do it like he does.

He watched where you were connected, admiring the way your cunt so eagerly took him and swallowed him whole, triggering him to let out a low growl and begin increasing the intensity of his thrusts.

You mewled; hands clawing at whatever skin of his was available, incoherent babbles of whatever he can assume is his name falling from your lips along with loud moans.

He leant down, bringing some of his large weight down against you as he pounded your cunt like he wouldn’t be able to again, wrapping your legs around his waist so he could watch your pretty face contort in pleasure.

He reached his hand out to hold your cheek, leaning down to kiss you gently, contrasting his harsh and fast thrusts.

He felt your cunt flutter around him once more, and he smiled against your lips before pulling back, tucking hair behind your ear.

“You gonna cum again, sweetheart?” He asked you, watching the way your head nodded quickly and your hands reached out to paw at his chest.

“Mhm, mh— m’ gonna cum, fuck. I missed you, missed you so much.” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as the ache in your lower abdomen grew and grew at a quick pace; jaw falling and lips forming a little o.

He smirked, holding your face and admiring you like he wasn’t ruining your pretty little pussy.

“I know, I know. I missed y’too, baby. Cum f’me, c’mon. Show me how much you missed me.” He groaned, feeling his own orgasm threaten to hit him at any second, and he just had to hope you came first.

And you did.

You let out a loud cry, mixed with a gasp as your legs locked around his waist. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arching so much that you were hardly even led on the bed anymore.

He felt your orgasm coat his entire cock, triggering his own as his thrusts grew sloppier, before he completely buried himself as far into your cunt he could and filled you up until you were practically dripping.

You both came down from your highs, panting heavily as he collapsed (but left his weight off you mainly) ontop of you, burying his face into your neck.

Your eyes closed briefly, before they snapped open at the feeling of his thrusts beginning again.

Looking at your face, he let out a low laugh.

“What, did you think your gift was over?”

[malfoys-demigod]

Hiii I don’t know if you write these type of things but could you write a fluff where reader and Logan have a baby girl and their planning their birthday party with some of the X-men? Thanks!!

Planning for the baby girl’s 1st birthday party

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: I kinda divided scenes into 2 scenarios and made the baby girl almost 1 year old! I hope that was okay, love! Enjoy!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Preparations for the Cake:

“Would it be a cliche if we decided on strawberry cake since we’re throwing a birthday party for a baby girl?”

This was an important question asked by Rogue, who tasked herself with baking the cake.

You looked at Logan with an inquisitive look. This first birthday party for your child was sincerely important and as much as you wanted to throw a classic first birthday party, you somehow did not want to turn classic into typical.

“She does make a point, Logan.” You noted, putting a finger on your chin as you started brewing deep thoughts on a question Logan thought didn’t need much pondering.

“Doll, it’s not like she’s gonna remember the taste of her first birthday cake,” he chuckled lightly, hoping you wouldn’t take that comment seriously by any chance.

What he got in return was you, trying your best to pull off a serious look, but the corners of your mouth said something else. “You are definitely not getting any cake! AT ALL!”

Logan took a step closer, playing a better game than you with a better serious look. “Is that right, darl?”

As he was towering over you, unsure of whether to kiss you or just keep making you flustered, Rogue, forgetting about her two parent figures being right in front, made a really, really bad fake cough sound.

“Can’t you two continue that later? In your bedroom? I really need to know what to bake! Don’t you guys want to taste it out before the party?”

“Strawberry’s fine, Marie,” Logan murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and breaking eye contact between the two of you to give a small nod to his daughter figure.

The decorations:

“Oh, aren’t these balloons just the cutest!” You said in awestruck.

Storm and Jean came back from shopping around town, buying all sorts of decorations from balloons, banners, balloons shaped into letters, etc.

They let you and Logan walk around the living room of the mansion alone, strategizing where to place all the newly-bought decorations.

Using your powers, you started floating around the room, drafting placements for the balloons first, placing them around the wall that included the fireplace while Logan was pumping air into the rest of the balloons.

As you placed some tape on the balloons, you heard a loud pop, followed by a loud, “SHIT!”, and… followed by another loud pop and same curse.

You looked down to the ground, seeing Logan standing with agitation on his face. He was looking around the two balloons he popped, now onto you as you flew towards him.

“Logan, hey,” you landed, walking to him, “Are you alright?”

You placed your hands on his face, cupping him with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I think I made the balloons too big and they suddenly popped after that.”

It seemed Logan felt bad about the two wasted balloons. He looked down and muttered a small sorry, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

A small chuckle came out of your mouth, adoring your ‘tough guy’ significant other act so unease about such a small issue. “They were just two balloons, Logan,” you assured him, “How ‘bout I take over pumping out the last balloons for now and you can place the ready ones around, yeah?”

Logan expressed tenderness, smiling at his loved one and planting a short but loving kiss on your lips.

He turned around, picking up the balloons and placing them beside the ones you placed.

Before he could place more, he looked over to you as you were pumping air into the balloons and said, “Hey,” he said, getting your attention, “How’d I get so lucky?”

There was a twinkle in your eye as you heard his question, “You already know my answer, Logan.”

Logan turned around again, now smiling from ear to ear to himself, still unable to process the fact that he got an amazing woman by his side, and now.. an amazing little piece of him and his woman in the form of a dear baby girl.

Whether he was nonchalant about it or not, he’s been dying to throw his baby girl the best birthday party he and his significant other could ever give.

[pseudowho]

Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons, Part 2

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.

Part 1 of Greynami Headcanons, link here

Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here

Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons

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Before he met you:

AU!Nanami Kento who takes up smoking again, a habit he had while working as a salaryman. His voice becomes rougher, more gravelly, irritated by the tobacco.

AU!Nanami Kento whose parents weep and stroke his healed burned face the first time they see him post-Shibuya, devastated by the suffering their little boy has experienced.

AU!Nanami Kento who sees that pain in his mothers' eyes every time he visits her. She can't help it. She's just heartbroken she couldn't keep her baby safe.

AU!Nanami Kento who begins to screen his parents' calls, not visit for dinner like he used to, and sends birthday gifts in the post instead of in person. Causing them distress by exposing them to his brutal injuries is a stress he's too fragile to cope with.

AU!Nanami Kento who listens to his fathers' long voicemails every night after a few drinks.

AU!Nanami Kento who often doesn't go home between missions, sleeping against walls in old buildings instead, a cold uncomfortable sleep preferable to a deep sleep with nightmares.

AU!Nanami Kento who alters his wardrobe after his tie, which he was unusually fond of, was destroyed by Jogo's flames. He can't find the tie for sale anymore. His beige suits just don't feel the same without it.

AU!Nanami Kento gives the last vestiges of his emotional energy to Yuuji, knowing he needs support, not wanting Yuuji to know he's struggling, not wanting to add more to Yuuji's already full plate.

AU!Nanami Kento who used to daydream about being a father one day, but now, being loved and giving love in return feels so remote and unlikely

After he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who tries to hide his trauma at first, afraid it will be too much baggage for you.

AU!Nanami Kento who is grateful to the very depths of his soul when you make it clear that he could never be too traumatised to be loved; you are each others' therapist, confidant, and sexy best friend.

AU!Nanami Kento, who struggles through reducing his alcohol and cigarette intake, with your steadfast support.

AU!Nanami Kento whose home screen photo is one of you asleep, snuggled into his chest, drooling; you hate it, he absolutely refuses to change it.

AU!Nanami Kento who confesses to you on one snowy evening walk; he tells you the moon looks beautiful tonight and you're on tiptoes kissing him before he can even finish his sentence.

AU!Nanami Kento who takes up baking bread overnight if he can't sleep, the process cathartic and soothing. You know he's had a bad night when you wake up to warm bakery smells.

AU!Nanami Kento and you, whose home becomes a refuge for all the kids who know where the spare key is hidden.

AU!Nanami Kento who has made up the spare room for Yuuta, Inumaki and Nobara at separate points in just one week.

AU!Nanami Kento, who makes sure you buy extra bottles of burn ointment, and delivers them to Maki when he gets the chance.

AU!Nanami Kento, stood at the bathroom counter which you sit on, facing him, your legs wrapped around his hips, as you gently shave around his scars. Kento rests his hands on your waist, slipping his fingers under your shirt, just to feel your skin.

AU!Nanami Kento, whose towel comes loose and drops to the floor, staring into your eyes in challenge. You last a few seconds before your eyes flick down, drinking in the beautiful nudity of him.

AU!Nanami Kento who immediately throws you over his shoulder, and carries you to your bedroom while you squeal and laugh, being promptly de-clothed by him.

AU!Nanami Kento who behaves the second time you sit on the counter, to finish the job you started; he looks at you with a naughty glint in his eye.

AU!Nanami Kento who, with your support and continuous company on his missions, finds his power grows rapidly; he manages five black flashes in a row, and feels he may be nearing domain establishment.

AU!Nanami Kento who, after a rocky start with Higuruma Hiromi, becomes his firm friend, forming an intensely unstoppable duo. Ino is only a little bit jealous.

AU!Nanami Kento who finally calls his parents with your encouragement. He can't help but tell them about you immediately. They're thrilled, and want you round for dinner as soon as possible.

AU!Nanami Kento who is mortified as you and his mother coo over his baby photos.

AU!Nanami Kento who is stunned into silence when, in the car on the way home, you wonder out loud if your babies will look more like you or him.

AU!Nanami Kento who throws you into bed the moment you get home, face between your legs and drunk on the taste and sounds of you, until you're begging him to come closer; he graciously complies, his mind full of your future home, tiny footsteps and laughter as you cling to him in bliss.

AU!Nanami Kento who goes looking for rings on his days off; it's a huge decision, and one he ponders over for months, so in the meantime, he buys you a watch which perfectly matches his own.

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More love for Greynami. I'll do some bigger stories at some point too.

Part 1 of Greynami Headcanons link here

Thanks as always to @silkspunweb for being my muse and fellow unhinged friend.

[luveline]

kbd —your youngest daughter’s second birthday is hectic but perfect. dad!steve x mom!reader, 1.7k

“It’s crazy that she won’t remember.” 

“I know, but they remember all the love, right?” you say, stretching the neck of a balloon before attaching it to the hand-pump. “That’s what makes them happy kids. They were happy babies.”

Steve glances around the living room. There are shining cellophane banners on every wall, streamers in the eaves, bunting across the stairs and now balloons to be taped to the windows and hung from the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, and while you and Steve are both a tad slow with the clinging dregs of fatigue, neither of you are grumpy. It’s hardly much earlier than you wake up most days.

“I guess so,” Steve says, stretching his own balloon. 

“Even if she doesn’t remember, we’ll still remember,” you say with a shrug. “Don’t you remember Avery’s second birthday?” 

Steve remembers every birthday, and he gets your point. He wasn’t suggesting you make less effort and you know that, but it really freaks him out sometimes that the girls won’t remember their childhoods like he does. He’s telling you because he tells you everything.

“We got her a purple puppy teddy with those weird glass eyes and she accidentally hit you in the face really hard,” he says.

Steve remembers you pretending it didn’t hurt, and wiping the instinctive wetness from your eyes. You hadn’t been upset, but injuries near the sinuses make everybody cry. He’d wiped your tears away and he’d been deadly concerned; that was at a time where he was still marginally insecure about being a family, scared you’d one day realise you didn’t want it with him, that it was too hard and he was doing too little, every gentle caress of his thumb pleading with you not to hate him for it. 

But that was dramatic, in hindsight. When Avery noticed you were upset and began to cry too, you’d ducked away from Steve’s touch to pick her up and soothe her. You love Steve like breathing and Avery ten times as much. Your tears really were because you couldn’t help them.

“Ouch,” you say, slipping the balloon from the pump to tie around your two fingers. “I’m glad they don’t like Beanie Babies. That puppy almost took my teeth out.” 

He gives you a long look. “You’d still be cute without teeth, probably.” 

“Thank you.” 

You overestimate how much time you need to finish decorating. At 6AM you’re done, and at 7AM you’re napping, you and Steve with your heads pressed together on the couch, your snores blending into one sound. 

It’s Beth who wakes first sometime around 7:30. She doesn’t disturb you, only laughs at all the balloons and your strange predicament as she drags herself up the leather couch. It’s cracking now, you’ve had the same couch since she was born, but her dad always raves about it because he can wipe it clean with a clorox wipe. She avoids the spiky skin of it and curls up gently against Steve’s chest. She sniffs his shirt, and usually he senses someone’s close by to wrap an arm around them, but it’s you who feels her and covers her tummy with your hand. 

Upstairs, barely twenty minutes later, Dove wakes. She’s trapped in her cot and furious about it, whining behind a closed door, but luckily her best big sister Avery is waking up too. 

“Hi, Dove,” she says, beaming at her frowny sister, “it’s your birthday, did you know? Happy birthday!” Avery reaches arms just long enough to help Dove over the crib and onto the floor. “Wanna hol’ my hand?” 

“Okay.” 

Happier to be released, Dove and Avery backtrack to your bedroom and find it empty. “They must be downstairs,” Avery assumes. “Do you want socks?” 

Avery outfits them both in socks. You and Steve would be sorry you missed it if you knew it happened, Avery at her most gentle as she slips a pair of her socks over Dove’s tiny feet, and then her own. “Warm toes,” Avery says, “why does the floor get cold at night time?” 

Dove doesn’t know. She holds her hands out and Avery shakes her head. “Dad said I can’t carry you on the stairs. Come on, let’s go see what’s for breakfast. It’s your birthday so you can probably get to pick.” 

“Toast?” Dove asks. 

“Sure, Dove, I like toast. French toast? With cinnamon sugar?” 

They make it to the bottom of the stairs unharmed and find a hallway turned to a dreamscape. “Wow!” Avery says, pointing at the balloons. They’ve been taped into a rainbow arch around the door to the living room, and there are streamers hanging down as a curtain to walk through. 

Dove is pleasantly startled, her giggle one of promised excitement. “Wow!” she says. 

On the couch, Steve snorts awake. 

He blinks dry eyes, arms instinctively squeezing the small mass at his chest, worried he’s grabbed a kid and forgotten and the poor girls about to fall. After a second he gets his wits back and realises it’s only a dozing Beth, your hand sandwiched under his arm. 

He blows out a breath and finds the source of the commotion; Avery and Dove stands giggling in the doorway, the pink paper streamers kissing their faces as they look up at them. 

“Good morning!” he says, giving you a little nudge. “Dove, baby, it’s your birthday! Happy birthday! Can you see, the decorating fairies came when you were sleeping.” 

“Happy birthday!” you croak agreeably. 

“Thanks,” Beth says, rubbing her nose against his chest. 

“Not yours, sweetheart,” Steve says. 

“Okay.” She settles with a good pat on the back. 

For breakfast, Dove indeed wants French toast with ‘minnamin’, and you couldn’t be happier to make it. You sit her in her high chair with a pillow behind her back, you and Steve performing something of a dance as you rush to feed three hungry girls while satiating the birthday girl's demands. “You can have anything you want,” Steve promised. Why would he do that? Now Dove wants a kiss, and the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, and another kiss, and Mommy, can we have cocoa? 

It’s hectic, but it’s fine. If she wants some hot cocoa of course she can have it, it’s just a lot to happen all at once. 

“Careful,” you say, lifting Steve’s arm away from the burner. He’s shifted the pan off of the heat and forgotten about it. “Ooh, saved your arm hair.” 

“Jesus,” he says, yanking his arm out of your touch, but more importantly, away from the heat. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Mom, can I have water please?” Beth asks. 

You lean up into the big cabinet full of glasses for her favourite plastic cup and rinse it out. You fill it from the jug in the fridge and put it down in front of her with a big kiss pressed to the back of her head. “Okay?” you ask. 

“Thank you.” 

“Avery, what are you gonna have to drink?” 

“Coffee.” 

“I don’t think so, little miss. Coffee isn’t very good for you, and it tastes strong.” 

Avery tries to stop you from walking away, so you stay, despite Steve’s scary-looking cooking. He’s dangerous about the heat. 

“What?” you ask, looking down at her. 

“Are you gonna give Dove the presents after breakfast?” she whispers. 

“Yeh, bub. Don’t worry, I wrapped yours last night.” 

She beams at you. She’d stuck up in bed like a dagger when she remembered she hadn’t wrapped it, but you promised to do it if only to get her to go to sleep. 

She hums as you tip her head back and tap your noses together, upside down.

“And… ta da!” Steve puts a plate of chopped up French toast and sugar soaked fruits in front of the birthday girl. The toast is thick and browned, but cut into little squares so she can’t choke. “Birthday breakfast for my beautiful girl.” He kisses her chubby cheek. 

“Who’s next?” he asks, pulling up. “Bethie, you want French toast too?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“You want to help me make it?” 

“I can?” she asks, propping herself with two hands on the table. 

“Steve, please be careful,” you beg. 

“What, like I’m gonna let her get burned?” 

He scoops Beth up. You wrap your arms in front of Avery with your chin atop her head, two girly shields to protect you from the oncoming argument. 

In her high chair, Dove laughs around a mouthful of raspberries and bread. “Dad, stop frowning!” she demands. Frowning sounds like ‘fwoming’ and raspberry juice stains her chin, but it is her birthday, so you and Steve leave your playful arguing for another time. 

“You’re on my list,” he whispers threateningly. 

You pull up a seat between Dove and Avey to make sure Dove doesn’t hurt herself in her greed. “You’re on my list.” 

Dove doesn’t need help eating anymore, but she seems to enjoy the attention, so you begin feeding her one forkful of yummy sugary breakfast at a time. “Want maple syrup?” you ask her. 

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Yes!” 

“Okay, baby. Dad, can we get some syrup over here?” 

“Lazy, awful woman. What happened to her legs?” he asks Beth, who giggles like she knows she shouldn’t laugh. 

Dove smiles. She looks as happy as she ever has, with her slept-in pyjamas and her bed head, pink on her lips, brown sugar dusting the front of her nose. “I can’t believe you’re already two,” you say, wiping her nose gently. “Is that yummy?” 

“Yummy,” she says agreeably, lips parting the second you raise her fork. 

You got a present for each of the girls, though it isn’t their day, because you didn’t want them to feel left out, but honestly they don’t seem like they’ll need any extra spoiling. Bethie’s laughing sitting on the counter as Steve lets egg drip on her knee, squeamish giggling that in turn makes Avery laugh and attempt to join them. Steve grabs her under the arms and puts her right next to Beth. 

“Two assistants!” he says. “I’m spoiled. Which one of you wants to find the maple syrup? It’s somewhere in all that mess.” 

[i23kazu]

THEY CALL ME FATHER. I ACCEPTED THE TITLE

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. this is me getting to say neuvillette is daddy in an extremely sfw manner. he is melusine daddy i do not make the rules | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

so firstly. the melusines. they are absolute suckers for him. his greatest fans. if neuvillette has 10 fans they are the melusine. if neuvillette has 1 fan it is a melusine. if neuvillette has 0 fans the melusine is dead. if teyvat is against neuvillette, the melusines are against the world. need i explain more

anyways!!! he unofficially adopts them. i think thats just so cute like imagine waking up one day and your husband just goes "im the father of a race of sea creatures who live in a village. we have 300 children btw"

the melusines loooove to help you out around the house! they let u go for work while the older melusines are scrubbing dishes and hanging clothes (BABY MELUSINE CLOTHES!!!!!.) and rearranging neuvillette's hair ties into a little waterproof box

and yes!!! they love to tie neuvillette's hair! granted, they don't do a very good job – the melusines' hands are so, so so small anyways. your husband never dares to tell them that it doesn't look good, or it could be a little looser, he winces – he doesn't want to hurt them. after all, they look so happy to be a part of his morning routine!

they love to give neuvillette different hairstyles. some days it's pigtails, some days it's braids – all simple hairstyles, elevated with rainbow hair ties and seashell pins. the younger melusines love helping with his hair, and they all clamor onto his lap: tippytoed and standing on each other's shoulders. if one of the melusines can't reach his knees, neuvillette lifts them up by their arms and sits them on his lap to help.

and they all crowd around the door when saying goodbye to you and neuvillette for the day! the little melusines excitedly shove snacks, hairties, water pouches (that are melusine sized: they definitely aren't enough for neuvillette) and anything that they can think of that will help you with your day – right into your pockets

a slightly bigger melusine trots out of the house with a water bottle almost the size of her own frame, strapped to her back like a knapsack. she wobbles slightly, looking almost like a toddler playing with adult sized items. it doesn't help that neuvillette is so tall himself. he bends down to unstrap the water bottle and thank the dutiful melusine for helping him carry it. you swear that the melusine's eyes light up!

when coming home from work, the melusines excitedly count down the minutes until you and neuvillette arrives home, right on schedule. they greet him with a cheery "surprise!" as he opens the front door, greeted with the sight of his melusine children holding up a messily painted banner with the words "welcome home papa and (gender neutral parent term)!". he chuckles to himself, assuming that they weren't tall enough to tack the banner onto the wall. it's a cute surprise, anyways.

neuvillette also keeps a calendar of his children's birthdays!!! every week there's at least two birthdays going on so. he makes sure to have a little gift and cake prepared. a lot of the melusines like to go up to him and hint at it being their birthdays soon ("papa!! dyou know what day it is next week?? do you??!!") and he loves being playful with them and teasing them in return ("hm... is it tuesday?"), watching as the little melusine pouts. he gently hints at a present coming for their birthday soon, and the little sweetheart just beams.

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki (send ask to be added to taglist)

[kenacoki]

A Night To Remember

// Pairing // Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley x Fem!Reader

// Genre // fluff

// Summary // With your birthday right around the corner, the 118 decide to throw you a surprise birthday party. Unbeknownst to you, that wouldn’t be the only surprise of the night…

// Word count // 3.5k

// Warnings // none!

// Dividers // sister-lucifer

“No, no, no…a little to my left—yep. Perfect!” Buck glances down at the clipboard in his hand as he checks off the final box on the list. “And that’s it!”

Hen and Eddie look at each other as they descend from their ladders, both stepping back to admire the banner.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!’

“It looks great, Buck.” Hen smiles as she spares a glance behind her to the entrance of the firehouse. “Does Bobby have the cake done yet?”

“Yep! He had to let it cool for a minute, but he’s up in the loft icing it now.” Buck explains as he sets down the clipboard. “I’m going to go change before (y/n) gets here.”

Eddie checks the time on his phone, “Better hurry, man. She should be getting here anytime.”

By the time Eddie looks back up, Buck is already gone from his sight. He laughs to himself as he trods up the stairs to the loft, “He’s hopeless.”

Eddie’s only upstairs for a few moments before he hears your voice calling out from downstairs.

“Hello! Buck…Hen…Eddie…? Where is every-”

“SURPRISE!”

The abrupt chorus of cheers catches you off guard causing you to panic at first. Jumping slightly, you look up towards the loft and see most of the crew peering down over the railing looking at you.

“Jesus Christ, are you guys trying to give me a heart attack…” you laugh, hustling up the stairs. As you reach the loft, you feel your breath hitch in your throat at the sight of the decorations.

The room is filled with twinkling lights, giving off a dreamy atmosphere. The tables are adorned with white tablecloths and celestial-themed centerpieces, adding to the starry ambiance. The walls are adorned with streamers of various shades of dark blue and black, resembling the color of the sky after the sun goes down. The entire space has an almost whimsical touch.

“Oh wow…” you glance around the room in disbelief, overwhelmed with happiness. You let a shaky breath escape your lips, “You��you guys did all of this for me?”

“Is it someone else’s birthday and we don’t know it?” A voice speaks up from behind you…Buck. You whip around and catch sight of your best friend hustling up the loft stairs, “Cause the cake says (y/n)…and that’d be a real pain to change.”

A smile curls at your lips as you playfully roll your (e/c) eyes, “Ha. Ha. Where’d you learn that joke? The back of a cereal box?”

Buck’s hand plops down onto the top of your head as he ruffles your (h/c) hair, causing it to become messy.

“Hey!”

Buck laughs and walks over beside Eddie. You grumble to yourself as you attempt to fix your hair. While you’re doing this, Bobby quietly grabs the chocolate cake he’s prepared and carefully walks over to you.

“Happy birthday to you…” Your head snaps around as you hear Bobby begin to sing, your eyes widening at the sight of the cake.

The rest of the 118 starts to chime in, “Happy birthday dear, (y/n)…” Bobby holds the cake out in front of you, and the reflection of the candle on the cake flickers in your eyes.

“Happy birthday to you!” With a deep breath, you close your eyes and gently blow the candle out…

“What’d ya wish for?” Chimney questions, taking the pan from Bobby as he starts to cut slices of cake for everyone.

For a moment, your gaze drifts over to Buck…his face contorted in a smile at something that Eddie’s said. The outer corners of his eyes are crinkled from how hard he’s smiling. You can’t help it as your heart flutters in your chest at the sight.

Of course, it’s right then Buck would avert his attention to you. Your gazes lock briefly…you can feel the hair on the back of your neck raise as your cheeks take on a slight twinge of pink. Coughing, you avert your attention back in the direction of Chimney.

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t come true. Do you want that for me, Chim? For my wish to die.” You joke, attempting to cover the flustered expression on your face.

Bobby smiles as he rolls his eyes at your behavior, letting Chimney place a piece of cake on his plate. Chimney places a piece onto his plate, “You know, this whole surprise party idea was Buck’s, believe it or not.”

His brown eyes meet yours as he places a piece of cake on your plate, “The man is a menace when he gets a clipboard.”

The group can’t help but chuckle at Chimney's comment, Hen and Eddie giving Buck a sly smile. Meanwhile, Buck’s face turns a light shade of red in embarrassment. You smile in amusement at Chim’s teasing.

Buck clears his throat, trying to change the subject, “Anyway…” he mutters, a hint of redness still apparent on his cheeks as he approaches Chimney. “Give me a slice of cake.”

Chimney dramatically groans before plopping a piece down on Buck’s plate, “There you go, buckaroo.”

Buck looks at him unamused as he strides toward you, his voice quiet so only you can hear him.

“C’mon…” He walks over to the emergency exit door. Your brows furrow in confusion as you cautiously trail behind him, cake still in hand.

“Uhh…where are we going?” You question, watching as Buck uses his behind to open the door. He brings his finger to his lips, silently shushing you.

“You’ll see…” The two of you start up the stairs, the noise from the party slowly fading into the background as you get closer to the roof. Your mind is filled with curiosity and anticipation as you follow him, your guys' steps echoing throughout the stairwell.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he pushes open the door and steps outside onto the roof of the firehouse. The warm night air of L.A. surrounds you as you step outside, the heavy door closing behind you. The only noise provided being the sounds of the city off in the distance.

Buck walks to the edge of the roof that overlooks the city, taking in the bright lights. He sets his plate of cake down on the parapet surrounding the roof, he puts his hands in his pockets. There’s a small, almost contemplative smile on his face.

“You better have a good reason for dragging me away from my party, Buckley.” You jokingly tease, settling yourself beside him. You rest your elbows on the stone parapet, turning your attention towards Buck.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as you speak, his eyebrows raising in amusement. He lets out a small chuckle as he turns to fully face you.

“Oh come on, am I not allowed to have a private moment with you on your birthday.” He teases, a wide smile on his face.

He slowly takes a step closer to you, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. The smile on his face is coy like he’s got something up his sleeve.

“I uh, wanted to be the first one to give you your birthday present.”

Your eyebrows raise at his words. He-he got you a gift? A wave of curiosity fills your mind as you wonder what he could have possibly gotten you…

He reaches into his back pocket, his hand emerging with a small, crumpled-up black velvet bag. He holds it out to you, a sheepish grin on his face, “Here ya go. Happy birthday.”

You tentatively reach out and take the bag, your heart skipping a beat as your fingers brush against his. Your heart pounding in anticipation as you bring the bag closer to you.

You slowly open the small bag, your eyes widening as you peek inside. Reaching inside, your fingers brush against something cold and metal. You glance up at Buck curiously…just what exactly did he get you?

Holding the object in your hand, you raise it to eye level so you can see it properly. Your breath catches in your throat as you get a good look at the item in front of you. It’s a delicate golden necklace, a small sunshine charm with your initials engraved on it dangling from the center…

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight of the necklace, any words instantly dying in your throat. You look up at Buck, your eyes meeting his with a look of complete shock and awe on your face.

Buck smiles back at you, a hint of shyness in his expression. He looks almost nervous as if he’s waiting for you to say something, “You, uh, like it?” he asks, a small bit of uncertainty in his tone.

You open and close your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words. You’re completely stunned by the gift, your heart swelling with emotions. After a moment, you manage to find your voice.

“I…I-It’s beautiful..” you whisper. “I love it.”

Buck’s crooked smile widens, his nervous expression turning to one of pride. He clears his throat, his eyes studying you for a moment, “Do you want me to put it on you?”

Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at his question, the idea of having him put the necklace on you making your heart race in your chest. It’s such a simple, innocent act…and yet, here you are feeling like this. A small shiver runs down your spine as you look up at him; the butterflies in your stomach back in full gear.

“Would you?”

Buck’s eyes seem to gleam at your question, “Yeah, of course. Turn around for me.” he replies, his voice soft.

You spin around slowly, your back now facing him. Your heart is pounding like crazy, every fiber of your being filled with anticipation as you feel him step up right behind you. Buck basically pressed against your back. You feel his fingers brush against the nape of your neck, his warm touch sending jolts of electricity shooting throughout your body. You have to refrain from involuntarily shivering as he leans closer to you.

Buck is incredibly gentle as he brings the necklace to your neck. You feel the cool gold of the necklace against your skin, the metal sending another shiver down your spine. His fingers graze the back of your neck, his nails brushing against your skin as he carefully fastens the clasp.

The feeling of his touch against your skin is enough to almost drive you insane. Your heart thundering in your chest as you desperately try to control yourself.

Slowly, you turn around to face him, one of your hands instantly reaching up to touch the necklace that’s now sitting delicately on your collarbone. As you look up at Buck, you notice the way he’s staring down at you, his eyes taking in the sight of you with the beautiful necklace around your neck.

Buck stares down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in the way the necklace hangs across your collarbone as you toy with it with your fingers. He seems unable to tear his gaze away like you’re a piece of art that he’s admiring.

After a moment, he seems to catch himself, and he clears his throat softly, “It, uh, looks good on you…” he mutters quietly.

A small smile immediately forms on your face at his words, your chest fills with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You couldn’t deny that knowing he bought this and put it on you sent butterflies through your stomach, “Thank you...”

Buck’s smile warms at your response. He reaches out and gently fiddles with the necklace, his fingers brushing against your skin as he toys with the small sunshine charm, “I…I was hoping you’d like it. I wanted to get you something special for your birthday.”

You feel your stomach flutter as his fingers keep brushing against your skin, the sensations overwhelming you. You swallow down the lump in your throat, trying to compose yourself as you speak again. “It’s-it’s absolutely perfect, Buck. I’m so grateful you got it for me.”

Buck’s eyes meet yours as you speak, he seems to study you for a moment. He’s still standing incredibly close to you, so close that you can practically feel his body heat and breath on your face. The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering wildly, your heart pounding in your chest…you break your gaze away and look back towards the rooftop door.

“We…we should uh, get back to the party before—”

However, before you can finish, Buck slowly reaches his hand out and places it on your cheek; his touch sending another jolt through your body. He gently guides you to look back at him, his blue eyes locking with yours. You can see the fire in them, a hint of something in his gaze that you can’t quite decipher.

“I-I want to give you one more thing..” he says, his voice quieter than before.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the thought of another present from Buck sends even more anticipation through you. Your mind races, unable to even fathom what it could be…you nod at his words, your own voice now a whisper.

“Yeah?”

Buck nods in response, his thumb gently caressing your cheek in the process. He hesitates for a moment, almost as if he’s debating how to proceed, “Just- just close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise.”

Your mind is spinning as he speaks, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. You give him a tiny nod, the anticipation making your hands shake. You close your eyes like he asked, your mind racing with a million different questions.

Buck’s touch disappears from your face for a moment, your heart clenches at the loss of contact. You hear him shifting, his body moving and his feet shuffling against the roof. After a moment, you feel his touch on your cheek again, his hand moving back to its original place. He gently guides your head towards him.

As you keep your eyes closed, your heart is practically racing out of your chest as you wait for what’s about to happen. Then suddenly, you are completely overwhelmed with the scent of him, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your nose.

He lets out a shaky breath, “You-you mean the world to me…” His tone is slightly pleading as if he’s begging you to trust him.

You’re tempted to open your eyes, curiosity making you itch to see what he’s about to do..your mouth opens as you start to question what he’s doing—

But before you can speak, you’re interrupted by a feeling of his soft lips pressed against yours. Despite being told to keep your eyes closed, they immediately shoot open. All thought leaves your mind as he kisses you, your body instantly responding to his touch. He’s incredibly gentle, his lips softly moving against yours like he’s afraid to push you too far.

You feel his hand on your cheek drift up into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. he gently tilts your head back, the action pushing the kiss even deeper. Your mind is overwhelmed with sensations, the feeling of his body against yours, of his lips moving in unison with yours; your eyes flutter back shut.

You raise your hands instinctively, bringing them to his torso and clutching onto the soft fabric of his henley shirt. The need for air becomes too much, causing you two to break apart from one another.

Buck’s breath is shaky as he rests his forehead against yours. Your faces are still just centimeters away from each other. You slowly open your eyes, your vision still slightly blurred by the shock of what just happened. His eyes stare back at you, a mixture of emotions swirling behind them.

He looks completely flustered, his expression filled with a mixture of awe and slight worry. His hand is still on the side of your face, his other hand resting on the dip of your waist; he’s still holding you incredibly close.

You’re both quiet for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to say anything. As your heart pounds, your mind still struggling to process how this just happened. Buck finally breaks the silence, clearing his throat and loosening his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry I…I couldn’t stop myself... I just…” he mutters, his voice shaky and filled with a hint of uncertainty, he looks like he’s scared you’re going to hate him for what he just did.

You’re frozen for a moment, still trying to recover from the shock of what just happened. However, you can’t ignore the fact that as shocked as you are, you absolutely loved every second of that kiss. Your heart flutters and you bring your hand up to his cheek, your fingers caressing his skin gently.

“Don’t…Don’t apologize..”

Buck’s eyes widen slightly at your words, shock, and relief appearing on his face as he realizes that you’re not mad. He gently leans his face into your hand as you touch his cheek, his body relaxing as he realizes that you’re not going to yell at him.

“You, uh, you’re not upset that I did that..?” he says, some of the shakiness still in his tone.

You almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds. You’re the exact opposite of upset, and it shocks you that he doesn’t know that.

“Upset? No way.” you reply, your heart still fluttering at the idea of him doing that, of him kissing you so intensely, “Why would I be upset about something that I’ve wanted for so long..?”

Buck’s eyes widen even more at your words, his expression morphing from slight shock to disbelief.

“Y-you-you’ve-you want-” He seems momentarily stunned, like he’s not quite believing what you just said. He swallows the lump in his throat.

“You-you’ve wanted me to do that?” He asks, his voice a tad bit quiet.

You nod slightly at his words, heat rising back up to your cheeks. It’s almost comical how surprised he looks that you wanted him to kiss you, or that you like it. You smile slightly when you respond.

“Why else do you think my heart’s beating a mile a minute?” You tease. “Of course, I’ve wanted you to do that..”

Buck’s expression changes even more at your words, now shifting from slight shock to pure bewilderment. He’s looking at you as if he’s not quite sure he’s hearing everything right.

“B-but…you’ve never said anything to me..never gave me any kind of hint..” His tone is still slightly hesitant.

You sigh, leaning against the parapet and looking back out at the city, “I…I never thought that you felt the same.”

“You thought…you thought I didn’t feel that way?” he asks, his words filled with disbelief.

You sheepishly nod at his words.

“I…I mean...yeah. I didn’t think you were at all interested in me. Honestly, I thought you just saw me as a friend.” You reply, your heart clenching at the realization that you had both been pining for each other this whole time, both thinking the other didn’t want more.

Buck looks at you for a moment, completely stunned at that information. His eyes are wide, the look of surprise still etched on his face as he speaks again.

“So what you’re telling me is…we’ve been idiots this whole time..?”

You nearly laugh at the statement, realizing that he was completely right. You both thought the other didn’t feel that way when in reality, both of you wanted the same exact thing.

“Yeah…yeah I guess we have...” You gently respond.

Buck continues to stare at you for a moment longer before small, toothy grin forms on his face. He shakes his head slightly, he can’t stop himself from letting out a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. You can’t help but laugh along as you slide your other hand down and intertwine yours with Buck’s.

You two laugh for a moment; You have both been pining for each other this whole time and had really no idea. After a second you both manage to regain somewhat of your composure, Buck’s smirk still on his face.

“You ready to get back to your party?”

You let out a dramatic sigh before rolling your eyes. At the moment, the last thing you really wanted to do was go back to your party and pretend everything was normal. Hell, you’d just kissed your best friend who you’d had a major crush on for years.

“Ugh. Yeah... I guess we should.” You say, your words laced with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Buck chuckles under his breath at your sarcasm, clearly amused at your demeanor. He gives your hand a small squeeze as he responds, “C'mon. The faster we get back down there, the faster we can leave and go do something else..”

Your heart flutters at the way he emphasizes the words “Go do something else”. You know exactly what he’s referring to, he wanted to be alone with you as much as you wanted to be alone with him. You nod slightly at him, smiling as you respond.

“That sounds like an absolutely fantastic idea…”

[coquettebeautiful]

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[thef1diary]

A Spoiled Surprise | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max, your roommate, wanted to decorate the house to celebrate your birthday. Inconveniently, you walked in before he was fully prepared.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

pairing: max x fem!roommate!reader

wc: 1.5k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As your birthday approached, the familiar pang of homesickness settled in your heart. Being away from home meant that you couldn't celebrate with your childhood friends or family, and the thought of spending the day alone in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. But little did you know, your roommate Max had made plans to make your birthday still feel like a proper celebration.

Max had been sneaking around the apartment for days, trying to plan a surprise for you, but it was harder than it seemed.

His determination to make your birthday special fueled his every move as he threw himself into the preparations with gusto. While you were in your room, he rummaged through cabinets and drawers, attempting to gather supplies, but he barely found anything.

Max set to work, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He meticulously planned every detail, jotting down all the decorations he needed to buy. Nothing was left to chance — this had to be perfect.

He left the apartment a day before your birthday, wanting to buy all the supplies he needed to decorate and to make a homemade cake. With his arms laden with bags filled with streamers, balloons and whatnot, Max made his way back to the apartment. Fortunately, you weren't in the apartment at the time, allowing him to hide the items until he needed to decorate.

When you returned, he was inconspicuously relaxing on the couch, but it still made you raise your eyebrows. "Did you end up going to the store?"

"Yeah, why?" He asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

"You didn't restock anything…” you trailed off, having checked the pantry. "Oh, um, I forgot," he reasoned.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at his response, but you decided to let it slide for the time being. "It's fine, I'll go tomorrow."

He nodded, a small smile growing on his face because it'll give him a chance to decorate once you're out of the house. However, he does feel bad that he's making you run errands on your birthday.

The next day, Max sat at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on the calendar displayed on his phone screen. He couldn't help but notice the red circle marking today's date — your birthday. A mixture of excitement churned in his stomach as he could finally decorate.

As he heard your footsteps approaching, Max quickly minimized the calendar app and forced a casual smile. "Hey, are you going out now?," he asked, hoping that you would be out of the house soon.

You nodded, "yeah, just grabbing my keys," you gestured to the car keys sitting on the table.

"Alright, see ya," Max waved playfully, earning a confused expression from you.

Max watched you go, and once he heard the door to the apartment close, and the familiar sound of the key locking the door, he stood up.

He wasted no time in beginning to decorate the apartment. He started with making the cake first, mixing up the batter and putting it in the oven. While it was baking, he hung streamers from the ceiling and started inflating the balloons using the pump.

Despite his best efforts, time seemed to slip through Max's fingers like grains of sand. With each passing minute, the pressure mounted, and he found himself racing against the clock to finish decorating before you returned home.

He taped the 'Happy Birthday' banner to the wall and smiled since it was coming together. The ring from the timer startled him, indicating that the cake was finished baking, reminding him to pick up the pace.

He popped the cake out of the pan onto a cooling rack and let it sit on the counter while he went back to the balloons.

No matter how hard he worked, it seemed as if there were always more decorations to hang, more balloons to inflate, more details to attend to. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to overwhelm him.

And then, just when it seemed as if he would finish in time, Max heard the sound of keys jingling in the lock. His heart leaped into his throat as he realized that you were back earlier than expected.

With a sense of dread coursing through him, Max frantically tried to put the finishing touches on the decorations, attempting to pump air into the balloon he was holding, but it was too late.

You walked into the apartment, holding a couple bags full of groceries with a curious expression on your face as you took in the scene before you.

"What's all this?" you asked, your eyes widening in surprise as you surveyed the half-finished decorations.

Max's heart sank as he met your gaze, knowing that he had failed to finish decorating in time. "I, uh, well, I wanted to do something special for your birthday," he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You stood in the doorway, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across your features as you took in the scene before you. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons littered the floor, and a plain cake sat on the counter, the aroma of freshly baked vanilla filling the air.

A small smile grew onto your face when you noticed the banner, and your eyes softened as you took in the chaotic scene before you, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of Max's efforts.

"Max, that's incredibly sweet of you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I had no idea you were planning all of this."

Max breathed a sigh of relief at your response, the tension melting away from his shoulders as he realized that you weren't upset with him. "I just wanted to make sure you had a great birthday, you know, being away from home and all," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You quickly placed the bags on the countertop, and stepped forward to inspect the decorations. "Well, you definitely succeeded," you said, reaching out to give Max's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I love it, even if it's not finished."

Max couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude at your words, a sense of pride swelling within him at the knowledge that he had succeeded in making your birthday special. "Thanks," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm glad you like it."

As you both surveyed the scene before you, disaster struck. The balloon Max had been holding slipped from his grasp, and suddenly it was soaring through the air, bouncing off the walls and ceiling like a mischievous spirit.

You both stood there stunned for a moment, watching in disbelief as the balloon's chaotic flight filled the room. And then, without warning, you burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like music to Max's ears.

He couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he watched the balloon land on the couch, deflated. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty that had been weighing on him melted away, leaving nothing but a sense of pure joy and exhilaration in its wake.

Once the laughter died down, Max nudged you. "I still have to decorate the cake," he stated, glancing at the cooling cake resting on the countertop.

"Let's do it together," you suggested.

As you and Max worked side by side, carefully icing the cake, the atmosphere in the kitchen was filled with laughter and chatter. "Is this why you 'forgot' the groceries?" You asked, dipping a spoon into the bowl of icing and carefully spreading it over the top of the cake.

Max had a sheepish smile on his face, "I was busy buying the decorations, so I actually forgot about why you sent me to the store in the first place."

You shook your head with a smile, and reached across to grab a napkin, but as you did, your hand accidentally brushed against Max's face, smearing a steak of icing across his cheek.

You gasped once you saw his face, then burst out into laughter again, your stomach already beginning to hurt with how much you laughed.

He instinctively reached up to touch his cheek, but instead of looking upset, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh no you didn't," he muttered. Before you could react, Max dipped his finger into the bowl of icing and flicked a dollop of it onto your nose.

"I see how it is," you stated, a playful grin spreading across your face.

With a laugh, the two of you engaged in an impromptu icing fight, smearing frosting on each other's faces and giggling like children. By the time you were finished, both of you had icing all over your clothes, hair, and even on the kitchen floor, but you couldn't remember the last time you had laughed so hard.

As the laughter subsided and you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Despite being away from home, living with someone who was once a stranger, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You held your arms out, stepping closer and embracing Max. He made a disgusted face, "you're all sticky."

You chuckled, "so are you, now shut up and hug me back."

He obliged, wrapping his arms around you too. "Thank you, this means a lot to me," you mumbled against his shirt.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @regalbanshee @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag X

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON acts, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

You blinked at JJ’s question, leaning back against the wall of the pool house.

He sat next to you, both of you facing the couch, and you tried to ignore the feel of his arm brushing against yours. Despite the fact that it was only a week ago that he was kissing you in your bedroom—and that Rafe didn’t not deserve it—you still felt wrong about the whole thing. Horrible or not, the older blond was still your boyfriend, and it was bad enough that you were hiding out in the pool house with JJ while Rafe was probably off snorting coke with his friends.

You didn’t want to make it worse by doing anything other than talking.

The blonde’s question made you eventually sigh, straightening.

“Hey…hey, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t-.”

“No…I…” you shook your head. “It’s fine.”

That was the truth.

“It’s just that I’ve never talked about any of this with anyone before…”

Your voice shrank, and you didn’t want to admit how comforting it felt to feel JJ’s hands come up to rest on your arms. It was strange to say all of this out loud to anyone, especially JJ, because you were so used to Rafe’s behavior—had been rationalizing it for so long—and you felt nervous as to how JJ would take it.

“It was my 19th birthday,” you slowly said.

You felt JJ tense, and when you snuck a glance at him, there was a deep frown on his face as he looked at you.

“We were arguing…” you sadly smiled as you thought about what it’d been about. “…because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

You scoffed at the memory and at how you’d ignored what you thought was a little thing.

“It’d been a sore spot for a while. I was a virgin, I wasn’t ready, and Rafe was waiting longer than he’d anticipated.”

JJ’s hands fell, and he fully turned to face you, that frown remaining on his face as he listened.

“It became this whole…thing that really just pissed me off because it was my birthday,” you spat out, frowning now too. “It was my birthday party, and he was ruining it.”

You swallowed, recalling how angry and sad you’d felt that night.

“You know, I was reading up on this one day, and it said that sometimes people like him will purposely start arguments and fights on special days and holidays and stuff to make it all about them?” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. “They were right.”

Tears kissed your eyes, and JJ reached out to brush his thumbs underneath them.

“…because every time I think about that day, instead of remembering turning nineteen and celebrating with my family and my friends and my boyfriend… All I remember is him slapping me,” you whispered, holding JJ’s gaze. “All I remember is where it all started and how he begged me to forgive him…and how I should’ve left then.”

“Hey…”

“It was my birthday…but to me it’s just the beginning of the end. It’s the start of when Rafe ruined my life.”

JJ wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you pressed your face into his shoulder. You felt so odd—so much lighter—and you didn’t need to be a therapist to know that it was because you were finally talking about this. The blonde’s hands rubbing up and down your back was enough to make your lashes flutter.

“You know, I blamed myself for the longest time,” you mumbled.

JJ pulled away almost immediately, lips parting, and you shook your head.

“I know that it’s not my fault. I know that, now, but… I was so angry that night that I said things that I knew would make him mad,” you shrugged. “It just didn’t seem fair that I was the only one upset on my birthday.”

“That doesn’t excuse him hitting you,” JJ bit out, and you nodded with a shrug.

“It doesn’t…but…for a while I kind of believed I’d brought that on myself.”

JJ looked like he didn’t know how to take in what you’d told him, pink lips pressed together as he just studied your face. The bruising under your eye was practically nonexistent, and you shuddered when he reached up to lightly graze the skin with his fingers. You’d been exceptionally agreeable since the incident, dreading a repeat of the night where Rafe forced himself on you so violently that you’d had to strip the sheets.

JJ suddenly blinked, brows twitching, and there was an unsure look on his face.

“Can I ask you something?” he wondered, voice low, and you nodded.

A look passed over his face that you couldn’t place, and he seemed to be thinking hard about whatever was on his mind.

“A little over a year ago…”

You felt your shoulders droop, almost positive you knew where he was going with this.

“Sarah told us how you and Rafe had called the police one day.”

You sighed, recalling the story Ward had repeated. Neighbors were bound to notice a police car in the yard, bound to spread gossip, and he couldn’t very well tell people the truth.

“She didn’t know what for. Said that Ward wouldn’t tell her…”

JJ’s words died in the air as you stood, his hands falling from you. You tried not to think about that day if you could help it, and you were surprised by the quick procession of tears. JJ stood with you while you wiped your face, and you knew what he was going to ask before he even opened his mouth.

“Did you call the cops? On him?”

By his tone, you could tell that he knew the answer, and when you sniffed, JJ was there. He turned you around and pulled you against him. The reminder of that day—and all the emotions that weighed you down that evening—had more tears escaping against your will. You twisted your fingers into the back of his shirt, trembling in his hold, and JJ held you tighter.

“I thought I was going to die,” you shakily confessed. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

You could feel a shiver crawl down his spine at that.

“He was so mad,” you cried. “He was screaming and throwing glass at me and…he put a gun in my mouth.”

Your face was pressed into the crook of JJ’s neck.

“I didn’t know what else to do. I really thought…” you trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut. “It’s why I didn’t even want to talk to you. I didn’t want to go through that again for something as stupid as a smile.”

JJ seemed to freeze at that, and when he pulled away a bit, his gaze was questioning.

“What…?”

You opened and closed your mouth while JJ just stared at you, blue eyes glinting as his mind started to put the pieces together.

“What do you mean? Are you saying…?”

“No! JJ, that wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”

“Stop saying that,” he breathed. “What the hell do you mean? Are you saying Rafe did that because…?”

You rubbed your forehead, sighing.

“JJ, it wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who smiled back at you that day at The Wreck. Rafe saw.”

You swore you saw the color drain from his face, and you watched JJ stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the couch. He was staring up at you with parted lips, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that he was going over that interaction in his mind. It was such a simple and harmless interaction…one that had an almost fatal consequence.

JJ ran his hands down his face.

“…and when I told Rafe that you’d apologized to me?”

His voice was low—troubled—and when he lifted his gaze to meet yours, you only pulled your lip between your teeth. When you didn’t respond right away, you watched him exhale, shoulders sagging as he buried his face into his hands.

“JJ, that wasn’t your fault.”

I’m an idiot,” he choked out.

“JJ…” you whispered. “You couldn’t have known.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

He was standing, now, and you hated the conflict and regret you saw in his eyes.

“I knew he treated you like shit,” he spat, gesturing towards the door. “I knew it would piss him off.”

“JJ,” you reached for him.

“I just thought you guys would argue a little,” he whispered, and you rested your hand on his arm. “I didn’t know that he was…”

You held his gaze—yours pleading—as you tried to get him to see that it wasn’t his fault. You needed JJ to understand that there was no way he could’ve known. Sarah lived under the same roof as Rafe—and you half the time—and she still didn’t know. You weren’t going to fault JJ for thinking Rafe was only capable of being a little bit of an asshole.

When JJ’s hand rested on your cheek, your heart skipped a beat.

He was getting closer, and you should’ve been stopping him. The truth was that you felt safe with JJ, and you didn’t want to. The beginning of your relationship with Rafe felt like ages ago, so this safe—and excited feeling—you were experiencing with JJ felt almost new. When his nose touched yours, you placed your hand on his chest.

“I never would’ve done that if I had known…”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you reassured him, swallowing when his other hand touched your waist, fingers grazing the skin from where your shirt rode up. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” JJ argued. “You were right that day. I was being an asshole.”

When his lips brushed yours, you shook your head.

“JJ-.”

The rest of your words were swallowed when his lips covered yours, following you every time you tried to step back. It had been a week since he kissed you last, and the way he moved his mouth over yours told you that he would do it every day if he could. His hands were all over you, and you gasped into his mouth when they rested on the small of your back, pinning your lower half against him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m really fucking sorry.”

When your back met the wall, JJ wasted no time in pressing his knee between your legs, and you couldn’t hold in the shudder as he pressed his leg against your clothed mound. Things felt like they were moving too fast, so much so that you didn’t even realize what was happening until you moaned, JJ forcing you to grind yourself against his leg.

His hands were tight on your waist, and his lips had just traveled to your neck when your phone rang.

It startled you and angered JJ, the blond letting out a frustrated huff. It was Rafe—you knew it was Rafe—the other blond calling you almost every hour from the moment he’d left. JJ’s hands briefly squeezed your waist before forcing himself to pull away. His blue eyes glinted, and when you studied his face, he only shook his head.

Reluctantly, he let you go.

“Hey,” you softly said the moment you answered the phone.

You avoided JJ’s gaze as Rafe’s voice filled your ear.

“You know what? I actually think I’m gonna just head home.”

JJ’s voice reached you from the kitchen, and you only briefly glanced up as Pope responded.

“Seriously man? Now, you don’t even want to go out anymore? You made such a fuss!”

“Yeah, I know,” the blond said, and you heard Sarah say something—probably to John B. “…but I’m not feeling too good, and I think I’m just going to go home.”

Pope sounded disappointed—as did John B. —but they didn’t argue with him much over it. You were currently in the Cameron’s kitchen getting something to eat, and you had been since Sarah, her boyfriend, Pope, and JJ came inside under the reasoning that Pope had to pee.

“We’re just going to hang out with some people at the beach,” she’d said.

You could see it in her eyes then that she’d wanted to ask you to join them, but even if you hadn’t given her a look warning her off of that, Rafe’s tight grip on you was clear. If Sarah thought he was strict before, then it was nothing in comparison to how he was now after the incident at The Chateau. His phone call only moments ago was proof of it.

“How are you going to get back?” Sarah wondered, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“You know I’ll find a way,” JJ told her, tone light and boastful.

She made an unsure sound before letting it go.

“Well, leave before Rafe gets back. I don’t want a phone call from Rose or Y/N telling me that my brother and my friend got into a fight.”

You closed the fridge as the rest of them filed out, telling JJ to call them when he made it back to The Cut. The house was oddly quiet, and while you wanted to pretend like you weren’t alone in the house with JJ—Rose didn’t count—it was kind of hard to do when you turned around to find him at the kitchen entrance.

He was wearing some shirt with the sleeves cut off—as he often did—and you tried not to let your gaze linger on his arms.

“I hope you didn’t do that for me…”

The smirk that danced along his lips gave you your answer.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, stepping into the kitchen. “I was kind of hoping Rafe wouldn’t be here.”

“…and he could walk in at any moment…as is his right. Considering,” you gestured around. “…this is his house.”

JJ leaned his arms on the other side of the counter, gazing up at you as you grabbed a paper towel.

“Hey, I’m sure I could find some excuse if he catches me in here…”

He straightened, slowly making his way around the island, and you didn’t miss that mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“If he manages to find me on top of you…maybe I could even tell him I forced you into it.”

“JJ…” you said, taking a step back.

He held your gaze for a few moments before looking away with a shake of his head.

“Why do you feel bad about what you’re doing? He treats you like shit,” he chuckled, but it lacked humor.

You looked away from him, shrugging.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered.

He didn’t respond right away, and you didn’t hear him move closer, so you shuddered when you felt his fingers grazing the side of your face.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about kissing me,” he quietly told you. “If you ask me, you should be doing a lot worse.”

When you looked at him again, he was much closer than you’d anticipated, and you sharply inhaled. Despite his cheeky nature, you could see the way his eyes dimmed as he looked at you.

“Every time I think about him…and you…I think I could kill him.”

You frowned at his confession, shaking your head.

“JJ…”

“I would if you asked me to,” he continued, moving closer. “I’d drown him in the fucking ocean.”

“You can’t-! You can’t say things like that,” you said, voice lowering.

“Why not?” he curiously wondered. “You’re telling me you don’t want him dead for everything he’s put you through? There was blood on your sheets last week-.”

“I know,” you cut him off. “I was there, remember?”

You watched JJ take a deep breath, and he seemed to be calming himself down. The silence was a little tense, and you worriedly eyed the entrance, expecting Rafe to just show up at any moment. When JJ took your hand, you tried to pull it away, but he wouldn’t let you. You found yourself between him and the counter, and your heart was in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just…don’t understand why you’re fighting me.”

Your eyes burned, and you briefly looked towards the ceiling.

“…because,” you breathed. “He’s still my boyfriend.”

“The only reason you’re with him is because you don’t want him to fucking murder you,” JJ sneered. “That’s not a relationship, that’s a hostage situation.”

You couldn’t disagree with JJ’s assessment, and you both knew it.

“He enjoys treating you like shit…so why can’t you bring yourself to enjoy treating him like shit?”

Again, JJ’s logic wasn’t wrong, and you briefly closed your eyes with a sigh.

“…because if he caught me, he’d kill me,” you whispered.

When JJ’s hand touched your face again, you held his gaze. The smile he gave you was small, and your heart fluttered when he brushed his thumb over your skin.

“What did I say earlier?” he mockingly replied. “Let him try to kill me for fucking his girlfriend, I don’t care.”

He pressed his lips to yours.

“I just want you to stop feeling guilty over that asshole because he doesn’t deserve it.”

You chewed on your lip as he ran his eyes over your face, and when he was about to kiss you again, you shook your head.

“You should go. Sarah was right, Rafe could be back at any moment, and… That’s not a fight I think I’ll ever be ready for,” you sighed, moving from between him and the counter.

JJ seemed reluctant, but he eventually obliged, grazing his hand along your waist on the way out.

Rafe’s light snores grew quieter the moment you closed the door behind you.

He’d come to your house drunk and stumbling, too wasted to even fuck you—although it wasn’t for lack of trying. Naturally, he wouldn’t hear a word you said about drunk driving, waving you off and laughing in your face. After his second failed attempt to stay awake, he merely rolled off of you, his even breathing reaching your ears only moments later.

You’d pulled your knees up to your chest, eyeing him for the longest time and mulling over your conversation with JJ. You knew that the other blond wasn’t wrong. Rafe had done—and would do—much worse to you. Your relationship wasn’t a relationship, at all, but instead a prison, and maybe you shouldn’t feel guilty for finding some semblance of happiness. No matter where it came from.

Once alcohol knocked Rafe out, he was pretty much dead to the world for hours.

…and that was how you found yourself putting on shoes while he slept. You might’ve been more nervous and scared if you weren’t so in tune with Rafe’s patterns. There was no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t wake up until at least noon the following day, but you still kept your steps light as you made your way down the stairs. You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, and your fingers shook while you disabled the alarm.

The walk across the lawn felt too long, and if you hadn’t already psyched yourself up, you might’ve turned around and went back inside the house. Out of paranoia, you looked over your shoulder, relieved to see that your room was still dark with no sign of movement in the window. JJ didn’t open the door right away when you knocked.

However, once fatigue faded a bit, and he realized that it was indeed you through the cracked door, he was swinging it open and pulling you inside.

“I just…wanted to sleep here for a few hours I guess,” you murmured, still feeling unsure.

JJ shifted on his feet, and you only then noticed his bare chest. The plaid pants he wore hung low on his hips, and you told yourself you weren’t here for anything like that.

“…and Rafe…?”

“So drunk that not even an earthquake could wake him,” you said with a shrug.

JJ pulled his lip between his teeth, eyeing you with a look that was hard to name. He didn’t respond right away, just staring at you and studying you. His light hair was going every which way, some hanging into his face, and one hand ran through it when the other eventually reached for you.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispered, pulling you to him.

The pool house wasn’t as big as others you’d seen—namely some of your former friends—but it was spacious enough for both a living room and a decent sized bedroom. JJ’s hand was tight on yours as he pulled you through the threshold, and you glanced around, recalling that you hadn’t been inside the bedroom since high school. The bedding was askew, obviously lived in, and you were glad your parents barely paid the building any mind outside of the yearly spring cleaning.

“Do you like staying here?” you asked him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

JJ found that funny.

“If you’d ever seen my place, you’d know how crazy that question is,” he told you, plopping down beside you. “I love staying here.”

His face was close to yours.

“…and not just because of the 100 thread count sheets or whatever.”

He shrugged at you, eyebrows waggling, and you fought back a smile.

“I guess I’ll have to see your place to give me some perspective then.”

His own smile twitched, and you didn’t like the way his face fell a bit.

“Nah,” he breathed. “That’s…not something I want you to see.”

You felt your own face fall.

“…I mean, I know things with your father are pretty…ugly, but it’s where you grew up, isn’t it?”

Your tone was a little hopeful, and you watched JJ watch you. His blue eyes shined in the darkness, and you didn’t miss the way his smile grew again. When he reached for your face, he let out a light laugh.

“Yeah…yeah it is where I grew up,” he confirmed. “I guess you’re right about that.”

He pulled you with him as he laid down, and you faced him on your side.

“We’ll have to find some way to get you back to The Cut then,” he whispered.

At the reminder of your last visit, you both grew quiet. You were sure you both were remembering that morning when Rafe came to pick you up, and you recalled your next reunion with JJ, feeling comforted that he was so worried about you the entire time. As if thinking of the exact same thing, he touched the skin under your eye, and before you could say anything, JJ leaned in to touch it with his lips.

“I really hate that you’re with him,” he said after a while, pulling away. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You took a deep breath at that, reaching out and touching his arm, thoughtful.

“…and you do…?”

When you lifted your gaze, your eyes met his again.

“I like to think that I do,” he murmured, fingers dancing towards your chin.

JJ pulled you into a kiss, and despite the fact that this wasn’t what you snuck out of the house for, you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach flipped. In this moment, JJ felt like your boyfriend—lying in bed with you and talking to you and kissing you. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in bed for a long time, and you knew it was a feeling you could get used to…and have trouble going without.

“What are we doing?” you found yourself whispering in the darkness.

You looked between his eyes as you asked this.

“Rafe’s…asleep in my bedroom…and I…” you scoffed. “I’m here with you.”

“It’s sexy, isn’t it…”

“JJ,” you sighed. “I’m serious. Like…what are we doing?”

You were sure that your worry was all over your face.

“We don’t have to have an answer for that, right now,” was his response, hand touching your waist. “I just want to help you forget about Rafe, sometimes.”

He kissed you again.

“I want you to be with someone you don’t have to be afraid of,” he murmured against your lips. “Someone you can relax with.”

He pulled you closer, rolling you both, and when he rested on top of you, you pressed your hands to his arms.

“JJ, I don’t… I’m not comfortable with anything like that yet.”

Your lips brushed his as you spoke, and you swallowed.

“Kissing you and sneaking around to talk to you is one thing, but…”

You didn’t know why, but going beyond that in any way would make what you were doing seem too real—too deceptive. JJ didn’t seem to care about that though, pressing his lips to yours again.

“Do you trust me?” he wondered into the kiss.

“Yes, but-.”

“…but what?” his nose touched yours as he pulled back, holding your gaze. “You’re just scared because Rafe’s intimidated you and beaten you down so much that you’re afraid to do anything for yourself.”

Was that the root of it? It was true, of course, but you also still felt uncomfortable.

“I don’t know…”

“Hasn’t Rafe also been the only guy you’ve ever been with?”

You gave a reluctant nod, and JJ smiled at you.

“…and you don’t think that has something to do with it? You being scared of what you don’t know…?”

That was also true, and JJ took your silence as consent, kissing you again as his hand trailed down your frame. You made a slight noise of protest when his hand slipped between your thighs, Rafe’s t-shirt riding up. The blond on top of you swallowed it down, refusing to break the kiss, and you jerked when his fingers brushed over your underwear.

“JJ,” you said when you turned your head away, pushing at his arm.

“It’s okay,” he breathed against your cheek. “Trust me.”

When you looked at him again, his fingers were already tracing circles over where your opening was through the fabric. His blond hair touched your forehead.

“I would never hurt you,” he assured you, more pressure from his fingers, now.

You involuntarily lifted your hips, and you didn’t know if it was to push him away or get closer. You wanted to push him away, not quite okay with taking things this far just yet. In truth, you didn’t know if you’d ever be, and you thought about what JJ said. Maybe you were just scared, but did you fix that by pushing yourself to do something you weren’t ready for?

You supposed it didn’t matter, anyway.

JJ’s fingers were circling your clit, panties resting on his hand as he touched you. His lips trailed kisses along your neck, and without thinking, you threw your head back. You forgot all about Rafe who was knocked out drunk in your bed, none the wiser to JJ’s fingers sliding between your lower lips. You could feel genuine excitement, something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and you sighed when he dragged his fingers between your folds.

You could tell that JJ was being mindful of whatever lasting damage there still might be from last week.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, lips at the corner of your mouth. “…and wet.”

You shuddered at those words and the feel of the tips of his fingers just barely dipping into you before he pulled them out.

“Do you get this wet for Rafe?”

The mention of your boyfriend had your heart skipping a beat, but the feel of JJ’s fingers massaging your soaking cunt had you answering honestly.

“No,” you breathed, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he confessed.

“JJ,” you warned, hand on his wrist.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but a guy can dream.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth.

“I think about it a lot…pushing my cock into you and watching you stretch around me…”

When you softly moaned at that, JJ hummed.

“Do you think about it too? About milking me dry?”

You clenched around nothing, aching as he circled his fingers.

“…because I do…especially in his bed,” you dug your nails into his skin. “Fucking you until you come on his sheets, letting me fill you up right where he sleeps.”

You gently shuddered, your orgasm washing over you as you wrapped your other arm around him. JJ rode the wave with you, fingers rubbing against you, playing with you as you soaked them.

“Atta girl,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt slightly disbelieving at what had just occurred.

The proof was smeared on the inside of your thighs, but even when you watched JJ place his fingers into his mouth, it still didn’t feel real. JJ wouldn’t let you go as you caught your breath, kissing you again when you finally did.

“See,” he quietly told you. “That wasn’t so bad.”

He may have been right in some aspects, but JJ’s way around words and that tempting influence of his had you worried about what else you’d convince yourself you wanted.

[nhlclover]

BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION MATT REMPE

pairing: fem!reader x matt rempe

summary: matt makes sure to go all out for your birthday, hoping to make it one to remember.

warnings: sweet sweet fluff, reader not liking her birthday, brief crying (but out of happiness!)

wc: 1.4k

notes: fun little birthday celebration with matt :)

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, and before you’re fully awake, you feel the gentle brush of lips against your cheek, the warmth of a breath close to your skin. Blinking your eyes open, you see Matt’s face hovering inches away, his expression tender as he places soft, sleepy kisses along your forehead, down to the tip of your nose. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection.

Still half-asleep, you reach for him, pulling him closer, savoring the warmth of his embrace and the scent of him — a mix of his cologne and vanilla. You’re not entirely sure why he smells like a cupcake, but your sleepy brain doesn’t think about it much. The last thing you want to do is leave this cocoon, this perfect moment wrapped in Matt's arms. A contented sigh escapes your lips as you press your face into his shoulder, barely able to articulate anything beyond a soft, murmured, “Can't we just stay like this all day?”

You’ve never been one to celebrate your birthday with much fanfare. The thought of a day centered entirely around you has always felt a bit uncomfortable, and you’d rather let it quietly slip by with minimal fuss.

Matt chuckles softly, tightening his hold as if he, too, wants to savor every second of this peaceful morning. “That’s exactly why I planned something low-key, just the two of us,” he whispers, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. You can’t help but feel your heart warm at his thoughtfulness. He knows you so well — how the attention of a big celebration has always made you feel slightly on edge, how you’d rather not be the center of it all.

As he pulls you a little closer, he murmurs, “I know you don’t like all the fuss… but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make today special for you.”

He presses a couple of kisses along your jawline, hands holding your frame tightly to his. Suddenly he pulls back as you let out a disappointed groan. “As much as I’d love to stay here all day… I actually planned something for you.” he says, his voice carrying the faintest trace of excitement, “And I put a lot of effort into it so you’re going to have to get up and at least see it once.”

Reluctantly, you let him pull you out of bed, the world outside seeming less enticing than the warmth you were leaving behind. He wraps an arm around your shoulders as you shuffle down the hallway, staying snug in Matt’s hoodie you slept in last night. When you reach the living room, your breath catches.

The room is transformed. Streamers drape from every corner, a riot of colors filling the space, and a little banner in your favorite colors stretches across one wall, proudly proclaiming, Happy 22nd Birthday! Balloons in every shade are placed around the space, while small decorations and a few scattered confetti glitters on the coffee table. For a moment, you’re speechless, turning slowly to take it all in.

“Did you seriously do all of this?” you manage, looking at Matt, feeling almost shy.

“Of course I did,” he says, looking at you with a mixture of pride and a soft, almost vulnerable joy that takes your breath away. “Oh, you have to come see the best surprise.”

You follow him to the kitchen which is where you see a cake sitting on the counter. It’s a beautiful mess: the frosting uneven but clearly, painstakingly applied, a little lopsided, and decorated with a generous helping of sparkling sprinkles. He must have worked on it for hours, trying his best, determined to make it perfect just for you. The sight of it, so personal, so filled with love, tugs something deep within you.

The gratitude, the overwhelming sweetness of it all, builds so suddenly that you feel your eyes start to prick with tears. You try to blink them away, but it’s too late; Matt notices. His face changes, his brow furrowing as he steps closer, hands finding your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did I…did I do something wrong?” There’s a thread of worry in his voice as he reaches up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the single tear that’s escaped down your cheek.

You shake your head, a tremulous laugh bubbling up. “No, no… it’s just… no one's ever done anything like this for me before.” You gesture around the room, the carefully decorated chaos, the little details so clearly made with you in mind. “All of this… it just means so much.”

Relief floods his features, and he pulls you into a warm, solid embrace. His hands press firmly into your back as if anchoring you to him. “Well, it's your birthday, and it only comes once a year," he says, his voice soft but steady, almost as if he’s saying it to himself. “So, of course I’m going all out. You deserve every second of it.”

You sink into his embrace, feeling the truth of his words settle around you like a warm blanket. The tears fall a little harder because of that — the sheer simplicity of being seen, of being loved without conditions.

You pull back, a smile breaking through the tears as you look up at him. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice soft but full of emotion. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek, then another just shy of his lips. It’s a little kiss, but it carries all the gratitude, affection, and quiet awe you feel for him in this moment.

His eyes meet yours, his cheeks tinted a little pink as he grins back, clearly touched. “You’re so worth it,” he says quietly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before nodding toward the cake. “Now, let’s eat some of this masterpiece, yeah? And then — you still have to open your present!”

You both settle at the kitchen counter, laughter filling the room as you cut into the cake, teasing Matt about the abundance of sprinkles. You take a bite, tasting the slightly sweet, perfectly imperfect frosting. It’s delicious, mostly because you know he made it himself. “Matt, this is incredible, thank you.”

As you savor another bite of cake, Matt fidgets slightly, his eyes glimmering with eager excitement. He clears his throat, before reaching into his pocket. “Okay,” he says, looking almost bashful, “now for the real present.”

Matt pulls a small, velvet box from his pocket and places it on the counter between you two. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look at him with a mix of curiosity and excitement. “Matt…” you start, but he cuts you off gently.

“Just open it,” he says, his voice soft.

You pick up the box, feeling a small flutter in your chest as you lift the lid. Inside, nestled in the soft fabric, is a gold charm bracelet with a single small charm dangling from it — a tiny, intricately detailed ice cream cone. You gasp softly, instantly remembering your very first date with Matt when you got ice cream, talking for hours until the diner had to kick you out.

“It reminded me of our first date,” he says, watching your reaction closely, “and every time you look at it, I want you to think about all the other firsts we’re going to have together.” He gives a soft smile. “And, I thought… maybe over time, you could add more charms. Little things that remind you of us — of things we’ve done together, memories we’ve made.”

His words settle over you, filling your heart in a way that’s almost overwhelming. Each little charm to come would be a reminder of this — of him, of this journey you were both on together.

You look up at him, feeling your voice catch slightly. “Matt, this is… it’s perfect. I love it,” you say, reaching for his hand. “Every time I look at this, I’ll think of you. Of us.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, his smile widening as he gently fastens the bracelet around your wrist. “Good,” he says quietly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “That was the idea.”

You lean back, the weight of the bracelet on your wrist a reminder of everything Matt has done to make this day special for you, to help you enjoy your birthday again. As you look up at him, your heart swelling with emotion, you can’t help but smile.

You press another soft kiss to his lips. “I think this might just be my best birthday yet.”