#but every time i hear ‘all of the sudden.’ or ‘right off the back’
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
zyafics-recs · 17 hours ago
Text
i know this gonna break my heart... sigh... taking deep breaths... let's go ⬇️
It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.
first and foremost, i love the characterization of rafe. something about ur interpretation of him feels so lively and real, especially because it relates to his canon. when i was reading thru his thoughts, i was like, woah, rafe would act this way.
He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.
i love the line throwing grenades, waiting for who to blow up first. ur metaphors have always been some of my favorites, so i always love highlighting and pointing it out <3
Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 
i love the turn of internal conflict, that rafe - who has always been loyal as a dog to ward - can have his own conflicting emotions about his father
Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect.  To Rafe, that meant something. Everything
but at the end of the day, rafe recognizes that he has to set his father on a pedestal because that's all he's ever done. all he'll ever do.
At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.
that actually hurts, the idea that you're dissociating, going somewhere where he can't follow u? oh the miseryyy
He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 
i love u pointing out the validation-seeking 🙂‍↕️
Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?
this is such a bitter moment, but it's also shows how rafe just reverts back to his younger self in the presence of his father. that even if ward's death, he will continue to haunt the narrative. also, "shit, that was something, wasn't it?" was such a bitter realization.
Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.
HE SAW HIS FATHER
Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.
i love the depiction of seeing rafe as nothing more than a prop, an entertainment for the rest of the kooks. it gives u this zoo-like viewing of rafe rather than human.
It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.
he's so protective over his father
“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 
I LOVE HER FOR THIS SOMETHING ABOUT THIS OWNS MY HEART
You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”
she's real and she should speak on it
“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”
i love her but god that must've hurt
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
i love that he only picked up the things that he hears, not the fact that he's blind to see it, but rather accusing him of being "dumb"
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
he has such self-destructive tendencies omg
“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”
i love their arguments so much, because it's so bitter, and resentful, and sharp and it cuts so deep. that's one of my favorite things about this series, is when they're talking, they're going all in
That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.
SOMETHINGS WRONG GO HELP HER
But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 
my favorite line
He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”
he's hurt too (but he's a dick) but he's hurt too 🥹
He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 
i love the lingering love, especially because i believe rafe to be the type of person who cannot mourn loss whatsoever, he keeps it in his chest forever, when he loves someone, he'll love them forever
“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."
ONE OF THE BANGER LINES OF THIS PART AHHH
“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”
oooo i love this, sometimes i be forgetting they're toxic.
💌 — i love love their argument in this one. i love how u manage to capture rafe's essence with this characterization, especially post-ward, because i often don't read a lot of fics with ward being a dead presence but haunting the narrative. and that make rafe's viewpoint so conflicting, especially since he's trying to grieve but come to terms on who his father is. i absolutely love how u build up to their breaking point, because they have all these things festering under the surface that neither are willing to talk about until someone breaks, and that's how their relationship dynamic is. every time we get to see an insider scope of rafe's head, i am amazed, because the way he analyzes things, flowing from one thought to the next, makes sense. he's insecure, he's grieving, he's angry, and all of these emotions are hitting him at full-force and no one is allowing him the proper space to actually deal with them—especially because ward never did. and when their argument was just bitter shots at one another, just to hurt each other, you know it hurt. oh oh, gigi, u amaze and fascinate me so much!!
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SIX
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;
Tumblr media
Rafe had been clean for the past three years.
Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing. 
It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.
He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.
Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. You’d gotten better at letting each other breathe. He’d pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and you’d do the same.
It wasn’t perfect; sometimes you’d still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours. 
Until Ward died. 
Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 
Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. 
To Rafe, that meant something. Everything. 
Ward had shaped him, he couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t act like that wasn’t important.
At first, you were there for him, no question. 
He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didn’t spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didn’t always know how to ask for it.
You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.
At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.
He pretended he didn’t sense it, tried to tell himself you’d come around. 
After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to him—maybe not in the way you thought he should’ve been, but that was just the reality of it.
For the first time in years, it felt like you weren’t there with him. It didn’t make sense to him how you couldn’t see it. 
Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didn’t always come wrapped in the right way.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 
He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.
Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?
He’d had people telling him he wouldn’t make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didn’t think he’d get this far. Only you.
Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dad’s old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.
After the whole “funeral”, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.
If you’re so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat. 
It wasn’t like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didn’t care if it broke him apart.
This was different, a slower, quieter process.
Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.
So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldn’t, if they’d just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that? 
He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didn’t care.
Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.
Grounded.
Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.
You watched him—really watched him—and yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didn’t say anything. 
Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.
She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated that—God, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.
But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.
He probably shouldn’t have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal again—even if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel it—the way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.
Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.
“Guess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldn’t buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people don’t just take bribes? Practically killed himself.”
It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.
“You got something you want to say to my fuckin’ face?”
The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thing—they were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.
It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.
He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you weren’t letting go.
“You’re gonna waste your time on him?”
Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didn’t give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face. 
“Get out. Now,” you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didn’t want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “Rafe. Now.”
You were mad at him.
It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.
“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 
There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogue’s smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your family’s name always had an impact around town, old money and all.
As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didn’t need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldn’t seem to avoid.
His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldn’t even look at you, not with how angry he felt.
By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you. 
You were there, right behind him with that look on your face—angry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didn’t get it.
He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped.
“My problem?” you scoffed head already shaking, “Are you serious?”
“You don’t get it,” he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shame—everything. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.”
You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”
Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”
He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to see the indignation—or worse, the pity—in your eyes.
“Just stop,” he muttered, but you were past listening.
“No, I won’t stop. I can’t. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself again. You’re better than this.”
He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.
“You don’t get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.”
“I know what you deserve.” 
He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “Think you know what’s best for me? Get off your high horse.”
“You’re damn fucking right I know better than you do, I’m not the one who’s drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
He could feel it now, the bitterness you’d been hiding for weeks. It wasn’t just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everything—every fucking thing you’d been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.
“You’re the one who’s just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.”
You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t flinch.
“What?” Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, “You think I’m tired of you? I’ve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you won’t even look at me. You won’t let me in. You’re too fucking blind to notice.”
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.
“You don’t get it! I didn’t need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, you—" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"
You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.
“I’ve been here. I’ve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didn’t walk away. You did.
His stomach churned, as if you’d taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadn’t even seen how far you’d already gone.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”
“I’m not trying to play the hero!” you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. “I’m trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if you’re so fucking broken you can’t see that, then maybe you really don’t need me.”
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldn’t stop.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.
He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.
“Maybe I don’t. Grab your shit and go.”
"Don’t you fucking—" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, “You know what? Fine. Maybe I will.” You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. “Don’t come running back in two days like you always do. Don’t come crawling back.”
Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.
He didn’t turn around, didn’t look back at you.
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”
You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didn’t turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.
That was it.
Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.
He’d told himself he’d stay away, make it easy for both of you. 
That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.
He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.
He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that he’d moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you weren’t meant for each other.
But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 
No, no, no.
Sofia was what he needed.
Someone who didn’t know shit about his past, who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t seen him the way you had, hadn’t been there through every drunken rant and punch he’d thrown at the wall or someone’s face, hadn’t heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights. 
She hadn’t called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his father’s ashes on the ocean. She wasn’t going to call him a coward for it. She didn’t have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.
He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.
It was over between you two. He’d make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didn’t give you enough closure, you’d hate him faster and you’d both get over it. 
So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John B’s beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. 
Of course you’d call her, his own sister—his father's favorite.
Sarah had always been the golden child, Ward’s little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, you’d picked her, just like Ward would have. 
He didn’t think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.
Sarah didn’t back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her. 
“I’m here because she called me.”
“She called you?” He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. “You? She called you?” He took a step closer, “So what, you’re her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if I’m right here?” His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”
Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.
“Are you dense, Rafe? You’re with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?”
He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”
“Oh, right. A favor?” Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That why you’re pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?”
“Go away. I’m driving her home.”
She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.
“No. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.”
A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, “She already hates me, Sarah. What’s the fucking harm, huh?” He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. “What’s one more screw-up on top of everything else?”
“You’re real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. You’ll just prove her right.”
He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldn’t even begin to understand.
But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.
“Walk away,” she warned him, looking over her shoulder, “That’s the only thing left for you to do right now.”
Rafe didn’t know why the fuck he listened to her.
It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d end up doing something stupid—something even more fucked up than what he’d already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came. 
His feet wouldn’t move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldn’t let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.
Hated that he just…felt like something was wrong.
You hadn’t been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didn’t want to remember that night—you damn near threw yourself out of his truck.
But he couldn’t ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.
He’d felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldn’t fix but couldn’t let go of either. He’d seen it again in your eyes when he’d caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way you’d tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital. 
Rafe still felt like he’d swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe he’d start to forget you.
His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like before…He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.
He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 
Perhaps because he remembered the last time he’d let you walk out, the way he’d watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thing—giving you the clean end you’d both needed.
Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldn’t say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.
But you’d called her, not him. You’d picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what he’d asked for, wasn’t it?
This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.
He’d impulsively made his choice the minute he’d wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone who’d once known he was yours. He’d talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system. 
He was the one who decided it’d be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easy—pain-free.
Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.
If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, he’d just be right back where he started.
He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet under—the need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.
He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather you’d help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.
He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him. 
You’ll just prove her right.
He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push. 
As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topper’s house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topper’s sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.
He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.
"Wake the fuck up."
He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. “Jesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?”
But Rafe didn’t answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didn’t even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.
“What the hell happened?”
Finally, he stopped, “I need you to find out what’s wrong with your cousin,” he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.
Topper blinked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”
Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know, okay? She just…she’s acting off. And I can’t—I’m not supposed to care, Top. I’m not. I’m with Sofia now, alright? But she’s still…” His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.
Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.
“Right, yeah, whatever you say. I’ll figure it out.”
Tumblr media
If Sarah Cameron didn’t walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, you’d lose all the courage you’d summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm. 
Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wished—desperately—that you didn’t feel so…empty.
Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.
She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.
“Hi.”
You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.
“Thanks for coming.” 
“Of course,” She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” 
You felt a laugh bubble up, “Not even a little.”
She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. “I figured,” she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didn’t pretend to have some miracle answer, “I made him leave.”
She’d made him leave.
You could imagine his face distorted with anger.
You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.
You weren’t going to ask, the less you knew, the better.
“Good.” You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, “I didn’t want him here.” 
Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.
You’d been telling yourself for so long that you didn’t need him—that you didn’t want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting… God, you hated yourself.
Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasn’t anger or flat-out ignoring you.
“He threw a hissy fight, but don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”
You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, “He never listens.”
“Especially when it matters,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.”
You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemed…hurt. Like he wanted to fix something he’d already smashed to pieces.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
She respected that—she wouldn’t insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didn’t need to go there right now. She could tell.
"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?”
There wasn’t any judgment in her tone—just plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, you’d be asking the same thing.
You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadn’t planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.
Not like this, with the IV in your arm.
"I—" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I don’t trust him with this.”
This.
You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside. 
“He’s too close. He wouldn’t get it. I needed someone who could just… not be involved, you know? I mean—You’re still his sister but—”
Sarah’s already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, “Sweet girl, you don’t have to explain your reasons to me. I’m listening either way. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get it, I understand why you’d want to keep him out of this.”
“You’re the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,” you confessed, “If anyone finds out—if Rafe finds out—it’s over. I’m not ready for that.”
A shadow crossed Sarah’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t ask questions about what you meant—about how Rafe had ruined things before. She didn’t need to. 
“I won’t tell him,” Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. “It’s safe with me. I’ve got your back.”
You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.
This was hard, harder than anything you’d ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would change everything between you—between you and her, and you and everyone else.
"Sara, I—" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldn’t breathe.
Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didn’t know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.
“Are you—" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.
"Just… just let me tell you,” You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. “I-I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.
But it didn’t. 
You didn’t dare look at Sarah right away. 
Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didn’t need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation. 
Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didn’t feel like you deserved it.
“Rafe’s?” she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.
You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.
“God,” Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"
You nodded again. She wasn’t asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.
“I don’t want this,” you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. “I can’t have it, Sarah. I can’t. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I don’t know what to do."
“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.
“I can’t… I just… I don’t want him to find out,” you managed between shallow breaths. “If he knew, he’d… I don’t know what he’d do. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to look at me like… like he owns me something.”
Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, “He won’t know a thing from me, I swear. He’ll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one else’s.”
You didn’t know you’d been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.
“Thank you. I just… I didn’t know who else I could ask.”
“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “This? This is exactly what I’m here for. I’ve got you, no matter what.”
The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.
“New Mexico’s clinic rules… they won’t let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.” You took a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.”
“Then I’ll be there,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ll get the tickets, we’ll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you don’t have to keep any of this in anymore.”
Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitude— “You’re really… You’d really do this for me?”
“Of course,” she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. “Sweet girl, I’d do this a thousand times over.”
“I mean—he’s your brother. I don’t want to mess things up between you two even more.”
She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like she’d been waiting for you to say that. “You think he’s my priority right now? Don’t you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, I’m used to it.”
“He might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on you…” You couldn’t finish.
“Listen to me,” she sighed, “I’m here because I care about you. Rafe and I, we’ll always have our issues—he’s stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But that’s our problem. He’ll never have a say over what I do or who I’m there for. Especially not with this.”
You swallowed hard, “I don’t want you to regret it.”
She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. “You don’t have to protect me from him, remember? He’s my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but I’m not here for him right now. I’m here for you.”
“You’re sure?” you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified she’d eventually pull away.
“Of course I’m sure,” she replied, tilting your chin so you’d meet her eyes. “Whatever’s going on with Rafe will figure itself out—But right now, you need someone who’s all in, no strings, no doubts. That’s me. You focus on you. I’ll handle him.”
You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” you admitted, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it, “I was so mean when your dad died.”
When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. “You really believe that?” she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldn’t see.
You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. “He doesn’t want me, not really. He’s…he pulled away. Like he’d rather hate me than be close to me. He’s with her.” 
The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.
She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.
“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."
Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.
You weren’t sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. “We’re better off without each other, aren’t we?”
“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”
You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps he’d realized that, in the end, you weren’t worth fighting for.
And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.
“Thank you.”
And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday you’d be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache you’d come to accept as your own.
Tumblr media
TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige
@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds
@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron
@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog
@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2
@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt
2K notes · View notes
itstheval · 20 hours ago
Text
Memory of Visitation
A @livesworthlivingau Side Story
"Oh Stars, I remember this town! This place sucked!"
Siffrin said it with a laugh as they entered Wolworth, but everyone else simply glanced strangely at him. The realization hit them at the same time it did Mira, from the look on their faces. "Time travel s-" "NO SPOILERS!"
Mira half-pulled her rapier, but the look on her face was one of jest that kept a smile on Siffrin's face, even as they raised their hands up defensively. "Okay, okay! I just…There were a lot of memories wrapped up in this town. So, uh…" His eyes flickered around to the others, looking for help, and getting only amusement at his plight.
"Hmf. I believe, I will go take a walk. To explore. Bonnie, would you come with me? You have the shopping list." "Aw, Crab, I wanted to hear!" Mirabelle harumphed her way away, frills spinning as she twirled on a heel and walked into town, leaving Siffrin staring helplessly as Bonnie rushed to catch up with her, hat bouncing with every rushed step. Vale's laugh broke the tension, and Siffrin turned back to look at them. "Oh well DONE, Stardust! We can really see the skills it took you thirty years to hone!"
The flush darkening their cheeks was matched only by their urge to snap back, and they managed to find their voice. "Don't laugh too hard, Vale, not until you find out WHAT happened here. Besides, I might make sure it happens to you…"
"We got here…I want to say a few months, after the King? We'd met you, Nille, but there was a lot you didn't know. I hadn't even opened up to everyone yet…I'd say I'm sorry, but you know. Wrong people to apologize to. But you, Odile! You're always too clever, and you'd noticed, by now."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Odile managed, smiling wryly. She recognized an Old Man Ramble by now, but Siffrin's stories were always worth the listen.
"Noticed what, precisely?" Vale's question was colder, but from the look on their face, the queasiness in their expression, they already knew.
"Well…Back then. Before I knew any better. And I want to make it real clear, I know better now! But back then, I would…Punish myself. With my dagger. For things that…hadn't happened, to any of you? And I'd hide it with my Craft, which…I learned way more about the limits of Healing Craft than I should have."
Siffrin didn't bother looking at everyone's faces. He knew what they looked like. He'd seen them before, and they broke his heart the first time, when it was Odile revealing this. Even so much later, thinking about those expressions hurt.
What he wasn't expecting was the sudden enfolding of arms around him. Isabeau's warm body against his, enfolding him, and a moment later Odile's hand on his head, patting it gently. Even Nille joined in on the hug, and a glance up showed Vale nearby, looking in. This was…different? This was nice. Until, on some unspoken signal, everyone stepped away.
"I'm sorry Sif, just…the look on your face. I don't think anybody could see that and NOT want to give you a hug! We know it's alright, but the way you looked…"
"Like a crab just pinched your puppy." Nille confirmed.
"Yeah, or like…I dunno, like someone ate your favorite treat you were saving for later!"
In that moment, he was loved. In all moments, he was loved, but it was nice to see it so clearly, and the smile Siffrin let onto his face was genuine. "Thanks…I don't like thinking about this stuff. But, no bottling myself up, not to my family! That's what I promised."
"Promised who, precisely?" Odile's voice was wry, in the way that came when she was trying to not show affection.
"Well I was getting to that! Before everyone decided it was group hug time! Anyway! Odile noticed, and she…told everyone, when we were here. I'm not ashamed to say, I ran off. I was stupid…I thought none of you would care about me if you knew how much I hated myself."
"You're absolutely right, Stardust." Vale finally decided to add their two cents, and everyone's heads snapped towards them, making them glad that looks couldn't kill - they'd be dead four times over, at least! It was Odile who found her voice first.
"Explain?"
"He WAS stupid!"
Vale's laugh cut the tension that their statement made, and Siffrin was the first to join into it, before everyone else allowed themselves to be part of it.
"Right! Right, where was I…Running away. Right. Well, Odile was too smart again." A glance to her showed a smirk that showed she agreed. "I ran and hid in the House…and her letter had gotten there first. And when people showed up expecting me, and bringing me to an appointment? I wasn't going to tell them they had the wrong person. Whoever's appointment it was, I could hide there until you all forgot! And that's how I met my therapist."
The sharp bark of laughter from Odile showed just what she thought of that, but Isabeau was quick to follow, as Nille shook her head in exasperation. "That actually worked?" She said, around a smile, and Vale nodded with mock seriousness. "It would have worked on me. Smart."
Siffrin decided then to start walking and talking, as he explained the rest of it. "Doctor Jinn was…strange. Even for Vaugarde. It/its pronouns, with lightless hair with darkless spots in it, like the stars. I'd have almost thought it was from home, except that everyone I've seen from there had darkless hair…and Doctor Jinn was a housemaiden. Or…I mean, it was working in the house, and it wore a change symbol on a necklace? And one of them for a bonding earring? Anyway, it had its own office set up, and was ready for me and everything. It wasn't until it addressed me by my name that I realized what happened. But Odile, why did you tell it my name was 'Siffrin Nomiddlename Nolastname'?"
"I couldn't begin to imagine." Odile allowed, walking the crowded streets, Isabeau pushing ahead and the others walking in the wake of the broad man like wakesurfers…Siffrin briefly wondered where he'd heard that term, then remembered they were telling a story.
"Well, that's what it called me. Like that, like 'Nomiddlename' and 'Nolastname' were names themselves. It was a great listener, I'll tell you that…It seemed to accept the Wish Craft stuff pretty easily, and didn't blame me for…" a light cough. "Any of it." Siffrin glanced to the side, and when the others followed their glance, they saw Bonnie at a stall, haggling with a zit-faced teen about the price of tomatoes.
"The interesting thing was…Well, when we got there, we were sort of wandering wherever we felt like, just seeing the world? And it turned out that Jinn was traveling anyway, so we wound up joining it…or it joined us, but we just wound up going where it led. It was convenient, and it meant I couldn't get away from it, either. So…we wound up talking a lot. Almost the whole time we were in Wolworth, and even on the roads." Sif took a turn, but kept up his memories. "About the Loops, about what I could and couldn't remember, about…well, everything, really. How I felt about Isa, how I felt about touch, home, why the Universe granted wishes like it did - it really didn't have much to say there, but it was great to just get it out of my system."
Vale was starting to look uneasy as they walked along, and Siffrin knew it was now or never, time to strike and hope everyone else was on board. "It was so useful, in fact, that I felt like visiting again. I sent a letter ahead myself this time, since…well, you didn't have a reason to, Madame. And don't worry, Vale, I told them all about you!"
Siffrin's grin was shameless, and watching the look on Vale's face was worth the entire time, as they realized how close they were to the opened doors of the House. And how Isabeau was blocking them off to the side…Vale couldn't escape that way, maybe…no, Nille was over there. Maybe through the Madame? With that look on her face, no way. That was the Path of Pain.
Vale's shoulders slumped, as Siffrin stepped aside and gave a sweeping bow. "After you, my friend!" Vale muttered oaths under their breath as they marched to the doors, only to find a Housemaiden waiting for them.
"Siffrin and Vale Nomiddlename Nolastname? I'm Housemaiden David…I got your letter, but I'm afraid no one here's ever heard of a 'Doctor Jinn'. Would you like to come in anyway?"
34 notes · View notes
ninyard · 3 days ago
Note
HI HELLO YES.
the swiftness in which kevin goes from blank to not even capable of coherent thought is truly a blink of an eye. it's years, over a DECADE of agonizing grief crashing together like several waves in one singular moment, and kevin is only human. he's got his PR masks and his athlete mask and his nobodycanknowwhattheydotome mask, but there isn't room for putting on any kind of front. it's just pure, raw static
idk if i'd call it paranoia considering kevin had every right to be terrified the moriyamas would come after him, but this sort of agony and fear??? would absolutely create the world's fastest wall between the foxes and his father and abby and everyone there and him. in a moment's notice, kevin is on an island he occupied with his brother, his best friend, his identity mirrored back in him in another boy with the number 1 on his cheek written in sharpie
how long until kevin can see anyone else in the room as anything other than an enemy hellbent on taking him away from his family? how long until kevin stops screaming, begging, pleading to go home, to go back in time, to just apologize to riko?
how long until kevin goes silent, unreachable for days and unable to be left alone while they all whisper around him about what to do?
how crazy is it that the only time kevin might brutally fight the foxes to get back to riko is when riko's not even waiting for him anymore?
i could go on for eons, truly
-childhood in the nest anon
"how crazy is it that the only time kevin might brutally fight the foxes to get back to riko is when riko's not even waiting for him anymore?" INSANE INSANE INSANE
Like god can we even comprehend how it must've felt for him to hear that??? His whole world just got flipped upside down and the chemicals in his brain don't even know what they're supposed to be doing bc one minute he's on top of the world celebrating their win and the next thing you know half of his identity is just. gone. just like that. The sudden drop from "We just won the finals," to "Riko is dead," must've been such a horrible feeling for him to live with. Such a violent and instant fall off a cliff you know. I'd short circuit if that was me and I fully believe Kevin was not a functioning human for a couple days if not weeks afterwards
19 notes · View notes
mars-ipan · 2 months ago
Text
nobody talks abt how hard it is to be a pedantic bitch who doesn’t want to be a pretentious asshole
6 notes · View notes
sttoru · 6 months ago
Note
Sukuna with clingy concubine 🛐🛐 like hella clingy, always clinging to sukuna, sitting on his lap and just following sukuna like a lost puppy
Tumblr media
 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff. little bit suggestive. size difference. reader is clingy, a bit of an airhead ig. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’.
Tumblr media
“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.
you flash him an apologetic smile “i’m sorry, my lord.” you’re not sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he cannot recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.
he doesn’t wait on you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem. you frown and take on the challenge that’s been thrown your way.
you increase your pace and nearly run after sukuna. you have to lift your kimono a little to make sure you wouldn’t trip over the fabric. it doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon as you follow him with that same content expression on your face.
sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him? he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”
there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones. you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”
you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard. “tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.
sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines since you’re always with him.
you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.
you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking at the nature in front of you both.
“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone. he doesn’t push you off, however. that alone should tell you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.
you shall never discover which of the two it actually is.
“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to. you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.
you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time sukuna shows some tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.
“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna simply puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.
you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”
you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back. you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”
sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.
he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.
the power dynamic; it’s addictive.
he needs more of it.
sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision. you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”
the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for. he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.
you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.
what a perfect way to spend your day.
Tumblr media
8K notes · View notes
lovelivision · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱
Riding Choso’s abs, slick pussy gliding against the ridges and contours of his muscles. Struggling to keep the noises you’re making at bay and having to give up all together, letting the pathetic moans and whimpers you’re making for him fall freely.
Choso’s so painfully hard watching you rub your cunt all over him, at the sounds of your moans. Dick straining against his pants, neglected and needy, tip sticky and leaking. His hands rest on your thighs, on your hips, anywhere he can get to. Wanting to touch you, needing his hands on you at any given moment.
His abs flex under you and it has you crying out a moan. Falling forward slightly your nails dig into his chest. A self-satisfied smile on Choso’s face tells you it wasn’t an accident, clearly pleased at the reaction he got out of you.
“Don’t be – hah – mean, Cho,” there’s a slight shake in your voice when you say it.
“I’m sorry,” he pouts back at you, “Couldn’t help it, you look so good right now, wanted to hear you more.”
The amount of slick you’re leaving behind is embarrassing, face feeling hot at just how wet his abs have gotten from you grinding down into him. “Can we just have sex now?”
“No, no, I wanna…” he pulls at your hips, wanting you to keep moving, encouraging you, “…I wanna see you cum like this.”
You’re not confident you can, feeling shy, but with how his eyes are glued to you in complete awe, you feel desperate to please him. Doubling your efforts to drag your sopping cunt back and forth on him, biting your lip to control your moans. Only to have Choso reach up and tug your lip free, not wanting you to deprive him of any of your reactions.
His heart pulls at the way your brows knit together, at how your mouth drops open in a gasp. His cock twitches pitifully when he catches the sight of his drenched skin, he needs you to cum on him. A new kind of frantic determination settling under his skin as he grabs onto your hips.
His hands guide you, rocking you faster, with more force. The sudden change shocks you, choking on moans at how much better it feels to have him helping you. Thighs shaking either side of him, chest stuttering as you struggle to keep up with him.
“I want it,” he doesn’t spare you a glance as he rushes his words out, instead keeping focused on how you’re twitching and drooling on him.
You want to tell him to breathe, that you’re close, but you’re barely able to talk without your voice breaking off, “I– oh!”
“I know,” he assures, he knows you’re so fucking close, he can read you like a book.
You can tell he’s flexing his abs for you, relishing in how your pussy jumps and you gasp every time he does. Then he’s grinding you down harshly as he presses himself up into you, the friction drives you wild.
Lip wobbling as you’re cumming very suddenly on him, coating his abs in a slick sheen of your mess. Your arms shake where you’re holding yourself up, he doesn’t stop your movements straight away, very nearly overstimulating you before finally stopping.
Choso’s eyes sparkle at the obscene mess left behind, abs drenched and shiny, over the moon at how he managed to get you to finish like this.
He’s smiling at you sweetly when he asks, “Up for riding my face?”
3K notes · View notes
dollaches · 4 months ago
Text
— stay with me, sleep with me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ perv!ellie x fem! reader
synopsis: ellie’s desperate moans pull you from your sleep and after fully waking up, you realize just how badly she needs to touch you.
a/n: wrote while extremely high i am so sorry
warnings: DONT LIKE DONT READ ! — established relationship, a bit of somno, dry humping (a blessing), cursing, ellie is a complete perv, dom ellie, sub r!, degradation (both receiving), impact play, ellie’s strap is referred to as a cock, a vile amount of spit mentioned, super sloppy sex sorry, cunnilingus (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), ejaculating strap, breeding kink, consensual pics after sex, begging, kinda perv r! tbh, sex, deep penetration (?), porn with no absolutely no plot and not proofread
wc: 4k
Tumblr media
It was hard to register anything at all as your eyes fluttered open, your mind muddled and confused as you are yanked out of your soothing sleep. 
The room is still dark, only being illuminated by the small night light on the bedside as the clock reads 2:42 am, and yet you have no time to notice it. All you are focused on is the fact that you could hear Ellie whimpering, the warm feeling that spread throughout your lower body being due to her humping your ass like you were nothing but a toy. 
“Els” you whine quietly, your voice still groggy with sleepiness. Despite the suddenness of your words, Ellie doesn’t falter in the slightest. Instead, she grips your hips tighter, making quick work of flipping you onto your tummy so she can straddle you easily. Pinning you down takes little to no effort even as you squirm a bit, as Ellie’s strength is best shown when she is hyper focused on pleasure. 
“Shut up, just shut up” she mutters, now grinding against you desperately, the way her clit is being nudged through the fabric of her boxers is enough to make her act carelessly. “You were teasing me on purpose… wearing nothing but those pathetic little panties to bed. And you expect me to be able to sleep?” she scoffs, her words breathless and frustrated. 
All you can do is whine as your face is shoved into the pillow below you, your mind desperately trying to catch up to the situation. It finally dawns on you that she is desperate to get off, so desperate that she was using your sleeping body. 
Throughout your relationship, you have learned that Ellie has a tendency to be grabby and a bit pervy to put it nicely. Whether you’re at home or in public, she’s always groping your tits, smacking your ass, or cupping your cunt right before she gives it a little smack. Every little thing you did made her horny, so much so that she couldn’t sleep properly unless she fucked you at least twice a day. 
But to know that she could get off just from seeing your body while you sleep is enough to make you moan weakly as she grinds against you. “Didn’t mean to tease, promise” you grunt against the pillows, desperate to defend yourself and yet she scoffs at you reply. 
“I’m not telling you to give me half assed excuses, I’m telling you to just shut the fuck up, for the love of God” she seethes, her words barely coherent as she rocks against you, her mind blinded by pleasure. Her words make you shut your mouth instantly, able to tell that there was no way to talk yourself out of this situation. 
“Thaaaaaaat’s it” she praises upon your silence, begrudgingly slowing down her hips since she could finally do what she had been so desperate to do. She takes in a few shaky breaths, keeping you pinned down with her weight but leaning back a bit so she can take in more of your body. 
Seeing you clad in only cozy white cotton underwear has Ellie more desperate than ever. Her fingers trace your puffy cunt through the thin material, testing your patience with her movements. “Stop fucking teasing” you groan, pressing your hips back against her touch in search of some sort of relief. 
For a moment you think she isn’t going to bother responding to you, that is until you feel a hard smack against your ass. It’s harsh enough to make you yelp in surprise, your skin tingling with pain from the impact. 
“Watch your goddamn mouth when you’re talking to me” she seethes. “Was gonna be all sweet on you but stupid girls like you don’t deserve that kind of treatment” she mutters, the anger in her voice making your whole body feel as if it’s on fire. 
Before you can beg for her to go easy on you, she is pulling up your hips till your ass is raised in the air and your knees are spread. You use your arms to help push yourself up, now on all fours as you look back at her. 
Ellie is wearing just a black tanktop with her boxers, and yet she manages to look absolutely perfect. The way her chest rises and falls at such a quick pace shows her need, her complete desperation to have you all to herself. Her eyes flicker to meet yours, having a terrifying edge to them as she analyzes your features. 
“Aw, did I scare you, baby?” she coos with false pity. Even if you know she is mocking you, you still nod your head, albeit in an unsure manner.  She gives a little ‘awh’ before lowering her hand so she can toy with the waistband of your panties. 
With the material pulled snug against your cunt, she can just barely make out the wet patch that has formed since it’s still dim in the bedroom. She lets the material snap back in place against your skin, a pleased smile on her lips when you flinch and let out a hiss of pain. 
“Just doing what you want me to do, sweet girl. Look at how soaked you are just from being hit and used” she hums, landing another rough smack on your ass that makes it hard to keep yourself upright. “S’ fucking filthy, you know that?” she questions, not caring when you don’t offer her a verbal reply. 
Instead you let out a soft moan as the pain from the hit settles in which causes pleasure to shoot down right towards your pussy. It’s too much to bear, the anticipation of her touch leaving you breathless. 
She smooths her hands over your aching bottom to soothe the pain only to quickly yank your panties down to your bent knees. Cool air hits your cunt and makes you let out a puff of breath, feeling so exposed and at Ellie’s mercy. 
“Perfect little cunt” she praises, running her thumb between your folds just so she can gather the slick that is rather prominent. “Thank you, Els” you breathe out, needing to get back on her good side or else it would be unlikely she’d actually let you come. 
Your sentiment is not wasted on her, as her touch becomes more gentle, leaning down to let spit drip down from her lips so it can slide down your cunt slowly. It’s so warm that you can’t help but shiver, letting out a borderline pornographic moan as she uses her lubed up finger to gently press against your entrance. 
But just as you think it’s about to begin, she pulls her finger back. “You gonna let me taste you or are you gonna be difficult again?” she questions, sucking your juices off her fingers before crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back. 
You immediately turn to look back at her, your eyes pleading. “I’ll be good, baby. Wanna feel your tongue, please. Want your fingers too, fuck” you rush out, your words slurring together just a bit. 
All you can think of is her touch, her body, how low her voice is when she speaks to you like you’re just some stupid girl. Your mind is barely functional at this point, not minding as she yanks your body down until you’re at the very edge of the bed. She settled onto her knees, dreaming of the bruises that will likely appear from doing so. 
She spreads open your cunt with her fingers, wanting to take in the sight of her spit that had managed to mix with your own arousal, leaving you a dripping mess. “Atta girl” she praises despite the fact that you are doing nothing but allowing her to see you completely. 
The mixture of being praised along with the feeling of her warm breath fanning against your cunt as she inches closer. “Wanna make this pretty pussy feel so good; gonna make you mine” she mutters, not even thinking anymore. She is akin to a shark that has just smelt blood, her eyes narrowing as they focus on your cunt that she’s about to eat out without hesitation. 
Her words wash over you and take away any tension left in your body. She presses an open mouthed kiss right on your clit, always loving to surprise you with a shock of pleasure. Within a second of the kiss, she is flicking her tongue against your cunt like a starved woman. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you huff, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of her tongue working against you. The sounds she makes are absolutely obscene, moaning against you as she keeps her face completely buried in your pussy. She doesn’t make you work for anything at all, already licking upwards towards your aching clit. 
She closes her lips around the soft bud, sucking on it so perfectly that for a moment you swear you can see stars. Your moans mix with hers in the filthiest way, as you’re both overcome with pleasure. “Jesus, m’ sensitive, fuckin’ aches, Els” you murmur, unsure if you’re trying to get her to ease up on your clit or suck on it just a bit harder. 
Ellie chooses to ease up, giving a final lick to your clit before she shoves two fingers into her own mouth, getting them slick with saliva so you won’t feel any sort of discomfort from them. “Love those noises you’re making, baby. Could fucking come from listening to you moan my name” she says with a breathy chuckle, finding herself entertaining as per usual. 
You can’t help the lazy smile that spreads on your lips from all the attention she is giving you, an exasperated groan as you feel her pressing both fingers against your opening, trying to ease them in before you have time to protest. 
She usually does one finger on its own but she is terribly impatient and some sick part of her loves feeling how tight you are when you’re not prepared for such a stretch. You practically mutter every curse in the book as she pushes them in, feeling slightly embarrassed from how easily they slide in due to your slickness and how relaxed you are from her touch. 
“Jesus Christ, your cunt is sucking me in, so fucking tight” she says with a drawn out groan, the way you’re squeezing against her fingers making her head spin with delight. “So big” you moan out, as Ellie’s fingers were the perfect length, reaching spots you could never get to by your own hand. 
The stretch is enough to have you writhing, your arms shaking from weakness as she pumps her fingers in and out of your sloppy cunt. “Taking me so well, angel” she grunts, curling her fingers in a way that has you pleading with her to slow down a bit. But she is too focused on bringing you to the edge, needing to make you feel good no matter what. 
“You gonna come on my fingers, hm?” she questions with a teasing edge to your voice, never ceasing to be amazed at how easy it is to make you fall apart completely. You nod, your arms aching as your muscles burn just to keep yourself in the perfect position. 
“Feels uhm— holy shit, feels like heaven” you gasp out, the realization that she has her fingers knuckle deep inside of you only making your cunt clench more. “Yeah, baby? Bet that pretty little head of yours is all empty now. All you can think about is how fucking deep my fingers are in your little cunt” she says, knowing that her words are completely true. 
You only nod as Ellie focuses on how perfect your tight heat feels as you desperately bounce back against her fingers. “Jus’ a little more” you whimper, and Ellie is more than ready to give you what you need to push you over the edge. 
She flicks her tongue against your clit, alternating between that and sucking on it sloppily, her spit dripping down onto the floor at this point. Neither of you care, as you are far too busy crying out her name. Your arms give out and you press your cheek against the soft mattress, your hips still in the air as she works. 
“Can I come? Pleasepleaseplease, can I come?” you ask, knowing better than to do so without her permission. Your well behaved demeanor never fails to please Ellie, her eyes practically rolling back from how obedient you are. 
“Course’ you can, sweet girl. Just let go” she mutters against your over sensitive cunt before lapping at your clit once more. Her fingers slide in and out with ease and she can tell you’re about to let go completely. 
With her permission, you’re coming, the taste of your arousal filling her senses as your clit pulses against her tongue. You can’t even thank her for giving you permission, practically braindead as your orgasm crashes over you. Your own drool seeps into the blanket beneath you, a fucked out grin on your lips as Ellie finally pulls her fingers out of your pussy. 
Your body feels completely relaxed, your hips finally dropping down so your aching muscles can relax. You take a moment, a little sigh of happiness leaving your lips as you listen to Ellie suck your juices off her fingers as if it were the best thing she has ever tasted. 
“C’mon, baby, I wanna see that pretty face” she coos, helping your weak body so that you can turn onto your back, your chest still heaving as she lays down beside you, not giving you any warning as she shoves her fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself as well. 
You take it just for her, letting her practically fuck her fingers into your mouth just for her pleasure. She eases her fingers out when she has had her fun, pressing her fingers together before spreading them once more just so she can she the strings of spit that connect them together. “You made such a mess” she observes, a grin on her face as she glances at you. 
All you can do is grin at her, knowing how much Ellie gets off on helping you feel good. She leans close enough to press her lips against your own, the kiss so intimate yet needy. Her tongue slides against yours, letting it trail against your teeth whenever she pleases. A whine is pulled from your throat when she grips your cheeks with her strong hand, forcing you to stick your tongue out. She offers you no explanation before leaning back in to messily suck on your tongue, her moans making your cunt ache for more attention. 
She only pulls away to catch her breath, already missing the warmth your mouth provides. “Gettin’ so much better at kissing, baby. Guess I’m a good teacher, huh?” she quips with a grin. You only nod, your lips still slick with saliva as you give her your prettiest smile. “The best teacher ever” you hum. 
Ellie pauses for a moment, noticing the way you’re already pressing your thighs together, a sign that you are getting yourself worked up. “Aw, poor thing. So pathetic and needy for my attention” states mockingly, although she couldn’t be more pleased that she will be able to give you more. 
“Just let me grab somethin’ to help make you feel good” she instructs, pushing herself up from the bed and parting from you so she can find what she knows will help you get all that extra energy out. For the first few minutes you simply stare up at the ceiling, eventually growing bored and quickly propping yourself up with your elbows. 
You were met with the sight of Ellie tightening the harness against her body, turning just enough so that you can see which strap it is. it doesn’t take long for you to realize, your tummy aching in the best way as you stare. 
It’s the fucking ejaculating strap, the toy only being used when Ellie wants to make a real mess all over the bed and maybe because she needs to watch her come drip out of your poor used cunt. 
Its an intimidating sight, the way Ellie looks down at you, her hand at the base of the silicone cock. “Gonna knock you up tonight, I swear” she mumbles with a soft smile that sends shivers down your spine. 
Even if you know it’s not possible, it doesn’t stop you from feeling completely vulnerable to her. It’s undeniably dirty, the idea of her coming inside you causes you to instinctively part your thighs for her, gently rubbing your clit and smiling weakly as you make tight circles with your finger. 
“Need you to, Els. Wanna feel when you finish inside” you plead, trying to entice her. Without even truly having to try, she is giving in to you. “You’ve got a dirty fucking mouth” she huffs, quickly striding towards the bed and pushing your legs up a bit higher. Her tone of voice leaves you feeling helpless to her in that moment. 
She uses one hand to slap her strap against your needy clit, her mind filled with everything she wanted to do to you in that moment. The way you yelp and flinch is more than enough to please her; raising her hand to spit into her own hand, stroking her strap as if she could truly feel it. Ellie tilted her head back, her fist pumping in the most perfect manner, as it forced the material to nudge up against her clit. 
“Gonna fuck you till you’re a mess, all for me” she breathes out, slowing her fist down now that her cock was thoroughly coated with spit, she teasingly pushed it against your entrace, letting it catch in the slightest before continuing on. 
“Need you to fill me up, please” you beg, looking up as ellie towers over you from her higher position. Your pathetic plea makes her genuinely smile and she is more than eager to finally give in to your request. 
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” she teases, getting you distracted so she could slowly push in. Your brows knit together once you feel the stretch, the thickness of it making you thankful Ellie had soaked your pussy with her spit. 
“Ellie, fuck” you shudder, not complaining when she decides to push your legs further apart so she can push all the way in. Every time you think it’s over, another inch slips in and leaves you barely able to take in a few breaths of air. 
When she finally manages to get all the way in, she lets out a curse at the way she can literally feel her hips against your own. Your hands clench at your sides, the feeling of being so full making it impossible to think for yourself. 
She pulls out all the way to the tip before pushing her hips against yours to fuck you as deeply as possible. Her pace only quickens when your moans are only full of bliss. “You hear that, sweetheart? Your cunt s’ fucking soaking” she groans between thrusts, her hands lowering to slap your tits and grope them carelessly. 
Her thrusts are forceful enough to really be able to make Ellie moan weakly, the material bumping against her making her grip on your thighs tighten. She looks you in the eyes as she’s buried in your cunt, letting silence fall between the two of you so you could her the dirty sound of your wet cunt slapping against the base of her dick. It left you more flushed than you already were, your lips parting in an attempt to say anything at all. 
“You’re such a nasty perv” you moan out between each thrust. “Getting off just at the idea of filling me up with your cum” you tease, knowing the effects it would have. 
Being called a perv for her behavior makes Ellie whimper pathetically, loving when you tell her how disgusting her behavior is. “Fuck, say it again babe. Gonna make me fucking come if you keep talking like that” she states, barely getting in a few breaths as she speaks. 
Her words only spur you on, as you have the need to make her feel good as well. “So wrong of you to use me while I’m sleeping, isn’t it?” you huff, feigning disgust. “Are you so desperate that you have to hump me like I’m just a toy? Because that’s disgusting” you continoue on. 
All the while, Ellie’s moans grow louder as her physical and emotional pleasure build intensely. “And now look at you, trying to breed me like you own me” you scoff, doing your best to play the part for your girlfriend. 
It seems to please her, as she’s fucking into you at an unbelievable pace. The strokes being so deep and swift that you’re back to being unable to speak, reduced to something weak when she was taking you like this. 
“I do own you, stupid. I’ll use your body however the fuck I want and I know you won’t complain because you get off on it just as much as I do” she groans, making you feel like you don’t even have any purpose other than to be Ellie’s girlfriend. 
“You own me, I’m sorry, you own me” you gasp as pounds against a soft spot within you that causes you to lock your legs around her, refusing to let her pull out. “And I am gonna breed your filthy cunt, s’ all mine anyways” she states weakly as you’re both about to fall over the edge. Your tummy feels tight, clenching around her strap as you try to prepare to take her load. 
“Holy fuck I’m—“ she begins, her hand tightening around the base of her strap so she can release the surprisingly warm cum into your pussy. Both of you moan over one another, hips trembling and shaking as Ellie’s cock remains deep inside you, cum dripping from the corners of your cunt. 
You’re flooded, feeling completely full and used. Each tremor makes you mewl, as her cock manages to move inside you. Before you can protest, she’s pressing her body closer to yours, pinning your hips down with her own. 
Slow and steadily she fucks you back open, each thrust intimate and loving. “Gotta make sure it takes, angel” she mutters to soothe your shaking body, completely overstimulated by pleasure. She fucks her cum back into your sore cunt, not wanting any of it to go to waste. Both of you were completely delusional, as you could swear in this moment you were truly going to have her babies. 
After a few soft thrusts, she presses a small and gentle kiss to your lips as she eases her cock out of you. The loss of it leaves you groaning, already missing the feeling. You clench as best you can just to keep the cum inside to please Ellie. 
“Don’t wanna forget this” she states in a rushed manner, scrambling up to grab her phone off her nightstand. She quickly places the camera above you, giving a little “say cheese!” and awaiting your bright smile before she snaps the perfect pictures of you. You’re completely fucked out and a total mess, her cum even still dripping out during the photo. 
You adore when she takes pictures of you, as it’s something special that is only for the two of you. She sets her phone down on the bed beside you, quickly taking off her harness and placing the messy strap onto the dresser so she can deal with it when she wakes back up. 
And just like that, she’s back in bed with you, peppering your face with kisses. “Took me so well, baby. Looked so perfect for me” she praises, her touch feather light as she brushes her fingertips against your soft tummy. “Bet you wanna get cleaned up and back to bed, hm?” she questions, knowing you must be exhausted. 
And you absolutely are, your energy all used up. You nod weakly at her words, pressing your body against hers for more comfort. “Just a quick shower, okay?” you mutter, simply wanting to go back to sleep as soon as possible. 
Your words make her chuckle and she nods, helping you sit up by keeping you in her arms as she gets upright. “That’s right, just a quick one and you’re all done” she agrees, knowing it’ll help keep you in a soothed state. 
Part of you can’t help but be glad this all happened, already planning to wear your skimpiest pair of underwear to bed tomorrow to see just how far she’ll go when she’s desperate.
3K notes · View notes
zephyrchama · 6 months ago
Text
[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]
Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?
MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)
There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.
A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.
---
“Can you help me with something?”
Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”
“You know how to do magic, right?”
What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”
“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”
How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”
MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”
“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”
MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”
“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.
MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”
“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.
There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”
4K notes · View notes
sweet-as-kiwis · 1 year ago
Text
How does one submit a room service request for “Well im 90% sure that pipe directly above my room is leaking. Again.”
0 notes
tojisun · 8 months ago
Text
still on that "simon teaching you how to shotgun while you're riding him lazily" shit and will always be on that shit!!
•°. *࿐
he pinches your chin, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the smooth of your skin. “breathe it in slowly—it will burn, especially ‘cause this is y’r first time—so tap when s’too much, okay?”
“okay,” you hum, eyes fluttering slowly at the gentle touch, a caress you know that is meant to be beckoning.
simon shifts the two of you on his seat, shuffling carefully, but the slight movement still makes you gasp, a sputtering of your breath, as muted please races through you at the deeper press of his cock.
he croons at your reaction, eyes crinkling as he murmurs praises and ‘i love you’s, his voice so full of adoration. it makes your heart clench, lips wobbling at the softness of it all—
simon is not a good man. he said this to you the first time you begged him to take you to his place.
(“please,” you whimpered then, too overwhelmed with your lust to notice the way he was straining against his self-control. “i need you.”
your voice broke, a sad tinge curling in your words, and you wonder if it was that which finally pushed simon to the edge. if it was the desperation he could see burning in your eyes and rippling into the way you held him—loose fists bunching up his shirt—that finally made him buckle.
“i’m not the man that you think i am, sweetheart,” he spat out, his voice weaving between his teeth in a barely-contained snarl. “y’re too good f’r me.”
“i don’t care,” you murmured, stepping closer into him, devouring even the minuscule space between you two because simon needed to know. he needed to understand that there is no one else you yearn for but him—
“goddamn it.”
his snarl was followed by the way his teeth sank into your skin, marking, tugging.
yes! you thought with giddiness, a sharp gasp getting torn from the base of your throat. yes!yes!yes!)
simon is not a good man, but he kisses you like one. he cares for you like one. he loves you like one.
simon is not a good man, but did he need to be? he was yours. was that not enough?
you rut your hips in slow circles, quiet rasps of your gasps filling up the space. you watch with hooded eyes as simon lights his cigarette, before you lean forward to snuff the fire off his lighter. your eyes meet his above the wafting smoke, desire mutual as it drips into each other’s laps.
sweat beads on your forehead, sliding down your temple.
you brace yourself on your knees, mewling as you feel the base of his cock sliding out from the grips of your wet walls, before slowly sinking back down to engulf the thickness of it. his cock digs deep again, settling somewhere that makes you feel so full—you swear your organs shift to make room for him—and it is in the midst of your stuttered whimpers that simon takes a drag of his cigarette, slow and deep.
you become so hyperaware all of a sudden, watching as his chest expands with every inhale. then, he takes the stick out, and he turns to you with pursed lips. simon cups your cheek once again, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.
anticipation courses through you as you pitch forward, willing your shaking body to sit still. you see the muted spark of the cigarette in your peripheral as you go—a temptress in its own right—until you feel the scruff of his unshaven chin tickling your own.
you didn’t realize how much your lips are trembling until you feel the steady press of simon’s against yours. he gives you soft pecks, reassuring kisses, and then he’s breathing out the smoke into your willing mouth.
you breathe it in slowly, feeling the burn on your tongue slither to your throat until it fills up your lungs. it feels like a thick miasma is being poured down your trachea, choking you with the tendrils of its fiery fog, and you cough, ripping your lips from simon’s.
“shh, shh,” he murmurs, quick to comfort you, his hand steady on the base of your head. “y’did great, sweetheart. y’did great.”
you can’t hear him, ears ringing as the heat spreads within you.
it is so foreign, dangerous, yet it is so, so sensual—
a metaphor for simon.
suddenly, sharp pleasure curls in the pit of your stomach, batting away the burn, and you keen, drawn out and high-pitched, before tipping your head down, needing to watch the way simon circles his thumb on your clit.
he’s let go of his cigarette—
“sim-onnn,” you hiccup, heart thudding with your disappointment. “wan’ more.”
he chuckles, the sound of it so fond.
so proud.
“look at you,” he croons. “it hurt you an’ yet you want more.”
his hand slides down from the base of your head to trace the plane of your spine before settling atop your ass where he grabs a fistful of your flesh. you groan, feeling truly edged out—the lapping euphoria you feel from the slow caress on your clit is not enough, and the thrill of breathing in simon’s sin having been cut short.
any more teasing and frustrated tears will trickle from the corners of your eyes.
simon catches your pout, and he grins, one that is a bite too mean.
“so needy,” he says, sighing dramatically, before he reaches for the stick and pinches it between his lips.
it makes you squirm, excited, your mouth already open—
needy, just like he said.
4K notes · View notes
monstersflashlight · 23 days ago
Text
Day 17. Monster-kinktober: Full moon + Swallowing/Cock Warming
A/N: Inspired by this post by @davinawritings. Also sorry (not sorry) because I feel like this is the 4th werewolf this month but I just fucking love werewolves. Enjoy!
Werewolf x fem!reader || cock-warming, teasing, oral sex, (lowkey) dirty talk
Your boyfriend usually had an incredible stamina, but full moon fucks were out of this world. You always ended up exhausted and so fucked out you couldn’t sit properly for the next couple days. Thanks the goddess it only happened once a month or you’d be fucked… in a bad way (and in a good way).
That’s why you don’t act surprised when he appears in the door of your home office, a huge erection in his gray sweats and the biggest smile on his lips. He looks obscene like that, your wettest of dreams… and he’s all yours.
“You know I need to prep you so you are ready for the full moon tonight,” he offers as an explanation for his sudden appearance.
“I know you do, but I can’t do it right now, I have work!” You try to argue, just for him to walk to you and pull you off your chair, sitting there himself and then sitting you back onto his lap.
You are still facing the computer, but the cock under your hot center is so hard and tempting that you can’t avoid rolling your hips to create a bit of friction. You groan and curse him for chuckling.
“See? Now you can do both,” he smiles and kisses your neck as you try to focus your attention back to the screen.
His hands pull your legs apart as he starts rubbing your clit slowly over your pants. You try to focus on your work, but you are completely unable to read a single line on the email because he’s so distracting. It’s not your fault that dating a werewolf has turned you into a desperate mess every time his dick was involved. He shouldn’t be so good at it if he wanted you to be normal about it.
“You are distracting me!” He chuckles but doesn’t stop, his fingers pressing hard against your clit through the fabric, so good, but not nearly enough. “Ugh, fine. Let me take the pants off first at least, I don’t want them ripped open like last time.” You tell him, your hand stopping his when he tries to open your pants to slip his hand inside.
He laughs at your acceptance, caressing your ass as soon as you uncover it. Your tiny thong doesn’t get the best of treatments, being ripped away in one fast movement before you can take it off. Fucking wolves.
He keeps moving his hand in the way that drives you completely insane, his fingers probing and touching, rubbing and fingering… You are dripping wet around his hand and trying to respond to the damn email. He doesn’t say anything, but he starts breathing harder and harder behind you, his hips pushing up in tiny thrusts that tease you with the promise of a good dicking.
“I need to work,” you remind him, frustrated in every way possible. Especially sexually.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. Let me just…” You hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down, and then something pressing against your pussy.
“Don’t you-” Your phrase is cut short when he pushes his dick inside your wet heat and you groan. “Fuck, okay, but don’t move, I need to work.” You remind him, again.
You’ve played cock-warming before, he loves to feel you stretched around him, and loves even more when you fall asleep with him inside of you, so he can fuck you as soon as he wakes up. The little somno fantasy was one of yours, but he indulges in it more than enough.
He kisses your neck tenderly. “Okay, honey, I’ll be quiet and still. Do your thing.”
But he’s neither quiet or still. He moves his hips in tiny circles, he “accidentally” rubs your clit with his thumb with the excuse of readjusting your hips for more comfort. He caresses the insides of your thighs until you are panting, his dick buried inside of you.
When you let out a groan, he chuckles, his finger instantly finding your clit and rubbing it until you are coming apart over him. He doesn’t come, he doesn’t say anything. He just stays inside of you as you try to re-focus on the work.
It takes you twice the amount of time as it should to answer all the emails. You know you won’t be able to focus anymore with him there, especially being a full moon. Without saying anything, you stand up before him, his dick still hard as you turn and look down at him. He looks wild, his eyes unfocused and his dick leaking profusely. He’s feral in the prettiest way possible.
He looks at you with reverence. “Please, please, please, honey… I need, I need…” He doesn’t get to finish his phrase, your brain already knowing exactly what he needs. Your pussy is not ready, but you have other perfectly fine holes, and his dick always tastes better when he’s been inside of you anyway.
You fall to your knees in front of him and smile at his leaking cock, your lips coming around his tip instantly. His hips move imperceptibly under you, trying to remain as still as possible as you suck him slowly, drawing his pleasure until he has tears in his eyes and you feel like a goddess. He doesn’t say anything, tries to remain in his best behaviour as you swallow around him, making him moan your name in a filthy way.
“Do you… Can I? Are you gonna swallow, honey?” He asks.
You nod around his shaft, your hand squeezing on his knot as he cries out over your head and spills his seed deep in your throat, making you choke slightly and pull out. It always amazes you how much he can come during the full moon. He ends up coming all over your chin and tits, making a mess out of you (like always).
“Fuck, you look indecent like that,” he says in the most broken way he can muster. You smile, your tongue darting out to lick some of his come out of your lower lip. He groans and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walking you to the bed, his dick hard once again.
Full moon days are awesome.
(You don’t get to go out and run under the full moon because by that time, your pussy is already overflowing with his seed and you are so exhausted you pass out… with his cock still inside of you.)
1K notes · View notes
thewritetofreespeech · 3 months ago
Text
Flourish
Tumblr media
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
summary: Aemond had not been joking when he said they would work on another child after their first was born. Aemond never joked. [ part ii of this work ]
tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), fingering, breeding kink, mentions of past pregnancy, use of High Valyrian, Aemond so in love with his wife that he might fall over.
words: 2K Ao3
-------------------------------⚔️-------------------------------
The fire was warm as it crackled in the hearth. Staying off the coming chill of the cooler months settling in upon them.
Aemond stared into the hypnotic flames. His wine from dinner at his left while his wife sat in her twin seat at his right, wrestling with the babe in her arms. “Stop fighting little one.” She whispered under her breath at their child. To which Aemond had to scoff quietly as his cheeks raised in a smirk. You might as well tell a bird not to fly, if it was one of his children.
His beloved wife had given him the child he had asked for. A beautiful, strong, silver-haired paragon. With her mother’s eyes instead of his own, but no less the perfect Targaryen jewel. They named her Amena, after much debate of naming her Alyssa or Alysanne after his grandmothers. Truly they had considered it but, in the end, Aemond wanted his children to be their own person for as much as they could. So much of their lives would not be their own; their duties, their battles, their matches. Let them at least have their names.
The princess eventually settled and suckled at her mother’s breast for a time before a nurse came in to take her to the nursery. Though the Keep kept some of the finest wet nurses in all Seven Kingdoms, his wife insisted on giving their child her first & last feedings every day. No exceptions. He knew she would make an excellent mother, even before their child had been born.
The nurse gathered the babe from his wife’s arms, kneeling down to let her kiss Amena’s soft crown, before she came over to Aemond and did the same. “Sleep well, riñītsos.” He whispered to her, before she was carried away and the two of them were left alone.
His wife sighed heavily once the door closed. Slouching and sliding down into her chair in a very relaxed, but undignified, manner. “So, what shall we do for the rest of our night husband?”
“I want another child.”
Understandably, his wife was surprised. It was not the response one would often expect to hear when asking how they should spend the evening before bed. Cards. Reading. Surely not perpetuating a dynasty. “Did I not just give you that one?”
Aemond chuckled as she pointed towards the door where the nurse had disappeared through. “Yes. You did. But I would like us to have another.”
“Really? And what brought on this sudden change in perspective?”
He doesn’t know if he should tell her that it was not a ‘sudden’ change in perspective. Since that night they conceived Amena, Aemond’s goal had been to fill his wife and their wing of the castle with children. He just didn’t realize how persistent the urge would be once they had one.
“I thought you wanted Amena to have siblings.”
“I do,” she agreed, which was a good start, “but I did not think you meant now. Perhaps when they are older. I just got my body back.”
His eye roamed over his wife’s figure. Back nearly to where it had been before and still beautiful, but he would be lying if he said he had not been thoroughly attracted to her those nine months she had been pregnant. Seeing her swell heavy with his child. Watching her body change. Her breasts grow heavy. It almost set Aemond to drool.
“I thought you said you liked being pregnant.” He reminded her, as he stood up and knelt in front of her chair. The heat from the fire on his back almost as hot as his gaze fixed on her.
He knew that pregnancy wasn’t easy. Seeing his mother, his sister, and now his own wife go through it, he was aware it was not the tranquil beauty & reverence people made it out to be. But he did not think his wife despised it. She commented often on how she loved carrying their child, even amidst the complaints.
“Well, it…was an experience…I did not hate it.” He could see her waver as he took her hand in his. Good. Aemond did not think of himself as the clever charmer, full of charisma, like his brother was, but he was not without his own Targaryen silver tongue.
“Do you not want to give Amena a brother?”
“Is that what this is about?” Aemond stopped kissing her fingers at the sharp shift in her tone and looked up at her. “You don’t want another child. You want a son?” His silver tongue might not be as polished as he thought.
When she had been pregnant, she had asked him what he was hoping for and Aemond said he did not care. Which had been true. Sons carry a man’s name, but when you have the name ‘Targaryen’ the point was moot. And, as an avid learner of history, he knew that there were some Targaryen women that carried the name higher & finer than some of the men. If Amena had been male, he would have rejoiced all the same. But clearly now his wife was thinking that maybe he had hoped for a son and been disappointed. That they could try again and ‘get it right’. That was not what he meant.
“No. I have no more of a wish for a son than daughter. We could have 15 princesses, it would not bother me.”
“15??” His wife repeated with a laugh. Her concern and ire waning quickly. “I am not giving you 15 children, of any variety.”
“But you’ll give me another one, eh?”
Aemond lifted up on his knees. Back to seducing his wife as he leaned in close to her. His lips brushed against hers softly, before they traveled down her jaw to her neck. His wife sighed in his ear. Sinking further into her chair as she tilted her head back. Relaxed and pliable under his touch.
He continued to kiss her while his hands moved to undo the lacings in the front of her evening gown. A sharp gasp came to his ear, followed by a moan, as his cool hands slithered in to touch her breast. They were sensitive and tender. She had told him as much. The newfound weight of them in his hands from what they had been before made him moan as well and a shiver raced down her spine when he pulled the gown down to expose them fully.
“Aemond….” She sighed out as he kissed along the edge of her breast. Imagining another babe of silver at her left since Amena seemed to favor her right.
“Let us to bed, issa jorrāelagon.”
His wife nodded eagerly and Aemond rolled up to his feet with all the grace his training allowed him, before he offered her his hand. She of course took it, and he pulled her to her feet and against him. Holding her there for a moment to look down at her before he gave her another kiss on the lips and led them to bed.
As they were already in their evening clothes, the matter of getting undressed was easy. Aemond laid his wife on the bed and was quick to catch her arm before it moved to cover herself. She had become shy about her body and being naked in front of him since giving birth. A trend he hoped would pass. He certainly had not given her any indication that he did not still find her desirable. His hard cock stroked against the interior of her thigh, just in case she needed further encouragement.
She moaned quietly as his member brushed against her soft skin, then leaned up to kiss him. Aemond is happy to meet her. Her lips are soft as well. He always thought that. Everything about her was soft in comparison to his hard lines and, well, everything. It was why they were perfect together. Why the world needed more of their two halves in one whole, to make it better & perfect as well.
“Open for me.” He told his wife as his fingers brushed against her thigh as well to spread them that little bit further to give him entry.
She does, and his fingers slid in to toy with her already damp sex. “See. You may lie, issa jorrāelagon, but this part of you cannot. You want me to put another babe in you, don’t you?”
“Aemond…” Her voice sighed out his name as her head tipped back whilst his fingers pressed in.
“You want another Targaryen fire in your belly, yes?”
“I just want you inside me, Aemond.” She insisted and he smirked.
“I will be. And I will be every night until we make a new scion, if you’ll have me.” His thumb brushed over her clit. Swollen and beaded out as his fingers continue to thrust inside her. His pretty wife bowed her back. Called his name and begged him to enter her. “Tell me true, wife.” He whispered in her ear as she was nearly close to crying with want. “Do you want me to fill you up with my seed and plant a new babe in your womb?”
“Yes!” She finally admitted. “Yes Aemond, I do! I want another babe. To give that to you. I want you to fuck another child into me like you did before! Please, please, give it to me Aemond!”
The prince gripped his wife’s hair and pulled her in for a hard kiss. A reward for her honesty. As he was doing that, he pulled his fingers from her cunt and lined his cock up to refill it. Sheathing all of him in her warmth in just a single thrust. “Hells Aemond!”
He gave her but a moment to adjust before he started thrusting into her. Those beautiful, full breasts of hers bouncing obscenely in front of him. His eye roaming down to her again flat stomach and imagining it full again, before traveling lower to where there sexes meet and watched his cock thrust hard to put a child into her.
“A-A-Aemond!” His wife cried out. Voice stammered by his thrusts. Hands clinging to the bedding as her legs wrapped around him.
“Not going to let me go, are you issa jorrāelagon.”
“Never.” She told him. With this look in her eyes that shot Aemond right to his soul.
He grabbed hold of her arm and flipped them up while they kissed. Her legs still wrapped around him as she was now seated neatly in his lap as he thrust up. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” The sweet words somehow tainted a little with all the wanton, animal panting between them, but no less meaningful. “Now give me our son.”
Aemond groaned. His back teeth grinding while his wife’s hips were grinding into his lap. He held her still and flush against him as his cock burst forth deep inside. She moaned sweetly against his ear as he filled her. Not letting go until he was sure every drop was inside his wife, then laid her down on the mattress. “Just the once, husband?”
“Do not tempt me, wife.” Aemond warned her. Both remembering the mad frenzy that had been their first bout to conceive. “Did you really mean it?” He asked when they were settled in bed for just sleep now. “Would you really want a son?”
The conversation earlier had led him to believe that she was not interested in one, but then her remark a moment ago made him question. Although Aemond was not fool enough to believe what a person said in the throws of passion anymore than what a person said when they had imbibed.
“Hmm…I have no opinion really.” She confessed. Settling into her spot on the bed between her pillow and his chest. “I know that is what everyone hopes for us. More Targaryen sons.” Aemond hummed once. He wouldn’t patronize his wife by telling her that that wasn’t true. “But, having one of each wouldn’t be so bad.” Aemond looked down at his wife just as she looked up at him. A shared moment between them. “I am not giving you 15 children though.”
Aemond smirked at her quip. “We shall see, now won’t we.”
*****
riñītsos: little one, little child
issa jorrāelagon: my love
Amena (origin, Arabic): meaning trustworthy, loyal, protected. [Not a Targaryen name but sounded pretty close, in my opinion]
2K notes · View notes
mysindividual · 3 months ago
Text
Unknowingly, his | Aaron Hotchner
requested
MASTERLIST
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader
summary: You never fail to make Hotch smile, even in hard times. One late night, when reader comes to his office to do some paperwork with him, he cannot help but catch himself staring at you and wondering if Hayley had the right to be jealous of you
cw: hints of jealous reader, mentions of jealous haley, divorce talk, cheating talk, mutual pinning my beloved <33
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!
Tumblr media
It was 7 in the morning when you entered your dull office with an emphatic unambiguous ugh. You tossed your briefcase and jacket onto the leather couch to your right, closed the door behind you with your heel, walked over to the table and turned on the light. You did a good job rearranging everything last night, but the files you were supposed to audit for the day had already been put on your desk. Though, you needn’t to rush as the team had already gotten a new case when 20 minutes prior you received a call. At least you had already been prepared to come down to your office, all dressed up. The phone call came through just as you were to about to cross your doorstep.
Moaning, you picked up the phone, dialed the number and patiently held for a response. You despised this. After a month, the team had a day off and you weren't expected to have a heavy workload today (also, you could never take a day off when the rest of the team did), so the most noticeably awful thing to do on a day like this for you was to call them back in.
You played with a tangled cord of your telephone when a hoarse voice spoke, "Hotchner” on the other end of the call.
Great, you wondered, was he already awake or did you wake him up. You could name a handful of different better ways of doing so.
"Uh, hi, Hotch." You noticed it was slightly too sweet how you said it. It might have been your way to make the news more appealing, or maybe, his early morning voice made you melt. You could never be certain which is the one.
Before he spoke your name, he cleared his throat and you believed you heard a light peck against his lips and someone’s chuckle.
The butterflies in your stomach died in an instant. Another great thing you had to do this morning.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” you said with a wry smile, rolling your eyes, “but I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”
Silence.
It made you glance at the handset you were holding to your ear.
Oh, how you have ruined his day before it even began.
“I figured. Call the rest of the team. I’ll meet you there in 20.” And with that, he ended the call. You could already detect a sudden shift in his tone, could already see a familiar frown appearing on his face.
──────────────────────
It was late at night when you knocked at Aaron's office door. Most of the agents on the sixth floor of the building were already out. Aaron could hear your heels clicking against the floor, echoing in the space before you even entered the bullpen.
"Hey."
A frown was settled on his face as he sat in a large chair behind his desk, his red tie slightly askew on his white-collar shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing his bare forearm. You couldn't help but notice that his hair, too, was more disheveled than normal. You tilted your head. If you had the chance, you would stare at him like that for eternity.
When Hotch regarded you with a fleeting gaze and a quick 'come in' in response before resuming to his paperwork and forms, you entered his office with a gentle exhale.
There was no need for questions or instructions as you silently retrieved the documents from your side of the table once you had sat across him.
That was the schedule you used to follow regularly.
Every time a case ended, both of you had to come together and complete the paperwork. At times, you’d spend extra time working together into the late night until you both were barely able to keep your eyes open, whilst other times it didn't take as long. Even though some might argue that it was not the perfect scenario - staying up late with your boss - those times when you had to be silent and be in close proximity to him were calming and almost sufficient to fuel your bizarre attraction that began the moment you first laid eyes on him. It was constantly shifting, influenced by mood changes from both of you. You were never afraid to express your strong opinion even if it didn’t parallel his, never afraid to speak for yourself, but you were also the one that spent most time with him, knew him better than the rest of the team, even had the most in common. The team referred to you as Hotch’s soft spot (not to his knowing, of course). In spite of being one of the youngest members of the team, if another member messed something up, they’d hide behind you, ask you to talk some sense into Hotch. To him, you could never do wrong. He was always a little bit blind to your faults. And you, obviously, weren’t oblivious to that. Not that you took advantage of it, or to be quite frank never a serious one. You could notice how one look, one ‘Hotch?’, one ‘please?’ could make him easily change his mind no matter who stood on the other end of the topic. You still remember when Penelope first started working with the team, and the first time she saw you two together - you saw a ‘?!?’ above her head. She asked if you were the wife.
And then, on the other side, there was a wife. Hotch was married, and you knew his little family - Haley and their son, so you never thought about breaking that boundary. As such, you were very adept at playing the game of hot and cold when it came to Hotch. Even if he weren’t someone’s husband, there was still a bit of an age gap between the two of you, and let’s not forget Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism. He was your boss after all, and in all your mind, you just firmly believed Aaron would never allow himself such a thing.
While you filled out the forms, you noticed something quite different tonight. Hotch had complete trust in you, he was aware of where your loyalties laid. You'd been on the same team for a few years in a row now, during which he would occasionally sign certain documents prior to you completing them. However, tonight was different. Tonight, he appeared unenthusiastic about returning home early to maximize the limited time his job allowed him to spend with his family.
“What’s wrong?” You inquired, feigning ignorance of his eyebrows raising towards you.
He shook it off, replied with a stock ‘Nothing’.
Neither of you seemed to stop whatever you were writing down.
“We’ve spent way too much time together. If you think I wouldn’t notice,” you eyed him. “You are wrong, boss.”
Aaron’s eyes finally really met yours for the very first time tonight. He leaned back in his seat comfortably, arms resting on armrests. “Are you a profiler now?”
“I might be one,” you mused, leaning back in your seat, crossing your legs as you put your pen aside. “Perhaps I have picked up a few skills working with the best.”
He surveyed you, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.
Aaron Hotchner - the profiler - never misses anything.
“In any case, I believed we had agreed not to profile each other,” he spoke gently.
You expressed gratitude to God for that. Would he, then, realize the extent of a crush you had for him in those little moments and mood changes? Was he just as unaware of that as any other man even though Aaron Hotchner was not just any man? You, in rare cases of boredom, would wonder what he really thought of you. Did he think it was just your personality - being all flirty and smiley, with everyone?
“I’m not profiling you, Hotch.” You reassured him. “It’s just… Would you not ask me if I were fine if you’d noticed?”
“Yes, I would.”
“And you’d want me to tell the truth?”
He nodded slightly in response.
Your eyebrows snapped together. “Then?”
As soon as the thought of Haley came back into his mind, his expression fell serious, his smile faltered.
He couldn't believe that Haley could possibly be jealous of any of his colleagues. After being together for years, he believed she would have had more insight, would known him better than that. For months now, that had not been the case. They practically turned into strangers who occasionally had to share the same bed. Even though he didn't realize it then, after the final confrontation and some calm reflection, everything became clear. Although the very thought of losing Haley was unknown… painful.
That morning when y/n called him, the moment Haley was waking him up in bed with her kisses, he called out your name. They both got carried away in the heat of the moment, not realizing that the call was indeed coming at his work number.
He recalled the way she gazed at him then - disappointed more than anything else - she shook her head and pushed him aside, getting up from the bed and putting on her robe. After the call had ended, he wanted to explain to Haley but what she said to him petrified him.
“It's always work, and it's always her, and you always go running like a dog whenever she calls you!”
He was upset, offended. However, he was fully aware that Haley was determined to find a way to bring their relationship to an end, regardless of his actions, whether positive or negative.
Aaron remembered then the call to the home telephone which he had picked, but was welcomed with silence before that someone hang up on him. And then Haley's mobile rang. He knew. He knew then, in that shared gaze with Haley. But regardless of all that, Aaron wanted one more chance, at least for their son Jack, who needed a united family more than anything else.
“Haley and I are getting divorced.” He spoke, not realising you had been back to signing the documents whilst he was busy in his thoughts.
“What?”
That took you by a surprise. You would have never guessed it. Yes, you shared glances with the rest of the team while working on the last case, noticing how something bothered Hotch, how slightly distracted he was. You could have notice how quiet he was on your way back home in the jet, not engaging in a conversation with anyone, with you. Yes, you all have guessed he had an argument with Haley having to leave for work again when he’d finally had a day off, but divorce… No one believed the two of them would ever divorce.
“I’m so sorry, Hotch.”
“For a while it has been… different. I guess there’s nothing I could do about that now, nothing to change the situation we have gotten into.” He spoke as if though he hadn’t heard you, his dark eyes distant in a dim lighting. “I tried.”
You didn’t want to pry. You needed not to know what happened - their reason, whatever it might have been, was sufficient. You didn't believe it was Haley's fault, nor his fault. You could understand both of them. It was indeed a rather challenging one. Only a handful of individuals could understand the job you have chosen to do, sometimes it made you wonder if you’d ever find anyone that would.
Unless it was someone doing the same job, the chances were relatively small. Reid could give his statistics on this one, you’d remind yourself to ask.
“I know, Hotch.” You reached out instinctively, your hand over his, slightly squeezing. He did not move or flinch, his eyes shifting to where the contact was. The hand under your palm was warm, simultaneously rough and soft. His wedding ring was reverberating a tiny bit of coldness against your skin. “And I know you. I know you would never just quit. You don’t deserve this. And I’m really so so sorry.”
“I’m not ideal. Haley has every right. I’m more gone than present, more a boss than a husband.” He sighed, pondering. “My own marriage’s been in trouble and needed saving, but I wasn’t able to admit it and help myself, help us. I wonder how I still keep this job.”
“Don’t take it too hard on yourself, ok? It’s never just one side, but it does get better. I promise. At least that much I know of. If there’s anything I can do…”
“You are here. Listening.”
You once again felt noticed as his intense yet somehow gentlest of gaze met yours. You loved that about Aaron, the ways he could make you feel in just seconds - you could be all platonically giggly and flirty with him in one, but in the next moment when he would regard you with that look in his eyes, one word, one smile - the world would stop, you could only hear your heart beating, his presence only existing. And it scared you.
It should have been just a banal crush.
You withdrew your hand from his at the thought, clearing your throat to cover a moment that was… profound, finding sudden interest in the documents again. “I can complete this by the end of night, you can-“
“No.” He cut you off, sighing as the documents on his desk filled his sight again. “It’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be in particular tonight. I have to finish this by morning…”
His brows raised once his eyes met yours again before he added, whispering. “And I could use some company.”
Or preferably, he could use your company.
“Ah, Strauss… The woman knows how to keep her employees in dislike of her.” You stated, averting your gaze from his eyes, taking another file from atop of others. “You should give her some tips.”
A soft chuckle escaped his throat, breaking the silent grimness that spread in the room.
“Since this is gonna be one hell of a night...” You put your hands on the armrests, ready to stand up. It was an attempt to run, reflect, calm down. “Anything you want me to get you?”
“Actually, I’m about to get some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Well, if we must finish all this work…” You nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we have to.”
“Ok.” He said in a soft-spoken manner, rising to his feet, and then pointed his finger at you in a manner similar to scolding a child. “But don’t doze off on me again. I’ll be right back.”
You put your hands up in defiance.
When he passed next to you, you followed him with your gaze out of the office. His perfume barely reached up your nostrils and you slumped in your seat, eyes closed, your breath shuddering.
That was close.
And about that… It wouldn’t be your first time. The team was amazed by your ability to fall asleep literally anywhere - desk, bench, floor, cinema, waiting rooms - you name it.
The first time Aaron found about this talent of yours was after the case. You went to check out of the hotel with the rest of the team, and while waiting for others in the lobby seated on a bar stool with your arms crossed, you fell asleep. He was quite taken aback, or rather impressed as well as everyone else, to see you dozing off while seated. On your way home, the team occasionally made jokes about it, but what stood out to you the most was that Hotch was also very engaged in them.
“Thank you.” He said once he returned to his office and put your cup of coffee before you.
You locked eyes with him, offering a small smile. “You are always very welcome.”
Taking a break from work, you took a sip. Just how you liked it. How attentive. Not that it was surprising. “And I suppose I should thank you.”
He lifted the cup in his hand to his lips but halted before taking a sip, his tongue gliding over his lips. You stared, hypnotized. “I’m sorry? Thank me for what exactly?”
“Yeah, you know…” Nervous, you offered him a report you’d just finished hoping he didn’t catch that. He reached forward to take it. “For indirectly acknowledging that seeing my name on your phone on a day off is not the most pleasant thing. I suppose I am bad news.”
“It’s a rather heavy subject, you know.” He replied in a professional tone, his eyes glued on the paper.
“Well, we’ve got all night.” You joked, throwing your hands in the air.
His eyes softened upon meeting yours once again. “I didn’t say that, and no, you aren’t.”
You lifted your brow at him. And then, there was that crooked grin on your face, teasing him to admit.
He observed you for a moment. “Sometimes, yes.” He succumbed to your will once again, before signing the report, concealing his own smile from you.
2K notes · View notes
bueckers · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWGIRL ━━━ paige bueckers
synopsis: you and paige sneak away during her family’s barbecue for the fourth. ✶
pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader
notes: literally have been slacking on every other fic and this is the one thing i jumped to write and finish… talk about matching each other’s freak is all i’ll say. i’m just here to feed families.
Tumblr media
The smell of grilled hot dogs and the sizzle of sparklers in the distance should be enough to keep you in the moment, but your nerves are working overtime. Paige insisted that it wouldn’t be a big deal, that meeting her dad’s side of the family was just another stepping stone in your relationship. But as the two of you step out of the car and make your way up the driveway to the family home, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking into something monumental.
It’s not the first time you’ve questioned what you’re doing with Paige. Not because you doubt her feelings—those have been clear since the night she first kissed you, all intensity and softness in equal measure. But because it still feels surreal, like the basketball star who seems untouchable to so many chose you. And just maybe she sees you as untouchable too.
The door opens before you can knock, revealing her father with an easy smile that mirrors Paige’s, and you relax—just a little. He greets you warmly, and you can’t help but notice the pride in his eyes when he introduces you to the rest of the family. Paige lingered, and it was a good feeling in one way.
There’s a moment where you’re being passed around like a prized artifact, a flurry of names and faces that blur together as you turn every corner with Paige. Maybe it was the way her dad’s side of the family welcomed you with open arms, or the way Paige kept you close, her hand on the small of your back or intertwined with yours, always making sure you were comfortable. Or maybe it was the seltzers—crisp, cold, and just the right amount of boozy—that had helped you loosen up.
“This is my girlfriend.”
It’s the first time she’s introduced you that way today, and the words hang in the air between you… a good feeling. The Bueckers family seems to take it in stride, with warm smiles and a few teasing remarks, but all you can focus on is the way it ignites something in you—a mix of something good and a sudden, overwhelming desire to make sure everyone knows just how mutual this feeling is.
Paige had introduced you to what felt like every relative under the sun, but now, a few drinks in, you were both in that sweet spot where the drink had taken the edge off, and everything felt a little lighter, a little more fun.
She pulls you away from the crowd, leading you hurriedly around a few corners and to her room. The sounds of the celebration are muted, and you begin to let out a fit of giggles. You weren’t even entirely sure what was funny, but Paige made you feel giddy.
“Why are we in here?” you asked, turning around to face the door she had previously shut. Despite this, the blonde pulled you into her, the both of you now chest to chest as she peppered kisses down your neck.
“There’s a meetin—meeting in my bedroom. You ain’t hear?”
You sighed out, reeling it all in before you realized that you had her entire family to accompany, and she wanted to meet with you. “P!” you whined, attempting to wiggle out of her grasp and failing miserably.
Paige’s smirk widened, and she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours. “What do they say? Save a horse, ride a cowgirl?”
You felt a rush of heat flood through you at her words, your body responding to the suggestive tone in her voice. Before you could fully process what she’d said, Paige was leading you both to the bed, herself falling before you as she held onto the tips of your fingers. “C’mon,” she mumbled, and it somehow sounded so sinful.
You took a moment to just look at her, her bright eyes darkened with desire, her lips parted slightly as she watched you with a hungry intensity that made your knees weak. “Only ‘cause you make one hell of a cowgirl,” you retorted, only half-serious.
Paige smiled, prepared to drag you down next to her before you stopped her. You smirked a little, your fingers trailing to the elastic of the cowboy hat she was still hearing. You pulled it until it snapped against her chin, the movement dirty and teasing and all a tipsy Paige could ever want.
She let out a low chuckle. “Careful,” was all she said.
You raised an eyebrow, your smirk widening as you reached up to take the hat off of her, placing it on your own head. The light weight of it settled over your hair, and you tilted it down over one eye, giving Paige your best attempt at a sultry look. “Or what?” you shot back, your voice a little breathless with anticipation.
Paige’s gaze swept over you, her series of different smiles turning into something curious and willing. She leaned back, all the pressure in the palms of her hands as her tongue swarmed her mouth in amusement. She nodded her head, as if she were challenging you so you could see what would happen.
Sure, it was a relatively bad idea in the moment with Paige’s family roaming in the same exact house, and you had really planned on saying no, but— well…
You took a step back, feeling a rush of everything nice as you put some distance between you and the bed. Paige’s eyes followed your every movement, her hands curling into the comforter as she watched you. You reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head and letting it drop to the floor, the air cool against your heated skin.
You could hear Paige’s breath hitch, her eyes glued to you as you turned around, giving her a teasing view of your back as you unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms and letting the garment fall away. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way her jaw tightened and her lips parted just enough.
With a giggle, you wiggled your hips, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs in one smooth motion before stepping out of them. You gave your ass a little shake, sliding your pointer finger into your mouth as if it were a lollipop. If there was one thing you’d caught onto while being with Paige, it was that she loved when you were completely naked. You didn’t miss the way her hands tightened against the bed, her knuckles white as she held herself back from reaching out for you.
Her eyes raked over your body, a hunger evident in her gaze that made your pulse quicken. You couldn’t help but smile, a wicked glint in your eyes as you took in the sight of her, lying there with her abs tensing beneath her shirt, her breaths coming a little faster as she watched you.
“Paige, baby…” you purred, your voice low and teasing as you crawled onto the bed, making sure to brush your body against hers as you moved. Her breath got caught in her throat, and you could see the way she fought to maintain control. Just give in.
Without another word, you settled between her legs, your hands trailing up her thighs as you pressed a soft kiss to her inner knee. Paige’s muscles twitched under your touch, her lips parting as she let out a breathy moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to keep herself together.
You weren’t about to let that happen.
Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to her core, teasing her through the thin fabric of her shorts. Paige’s hips jerked at the sensation, her hands fisting in the sheets as she let out a low, desperate sound that sent a thrill through you.
“Fuck, stop teasing,” Paige mumbled, her voice rough as she lifted her hips, urging you to take things further.
You smiled against her, enjoying the way she was starting to unravel beneath you. Slowly, you tugged her shorts down, your fingers brushing against her heated skin as you bared her to your gaze. You could feel the tension in her body, and it wasn’t the type of tension you’d get from a basketball practice.
Paige let out a shaky breath, her hands clutching the sheets as she waited for you to make your move. And when you finally did, pressing your tongue against her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke, her response was immediate and intense.
“Oh, fuck,” Paige gasped, her hips bucking up into your mouth as you lavished attention on her, your tongue moving in slow, teasing circles that had her panting for breath. You could feel the way her thighs quivered on either side of your head, her body reacting to every little movement, every flick of your tongue.
You didn’t let up, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady as you increased the pace, your mouth working her over with a skill that had her moaning your name, her voice raw and desperate. The taste of her on your tongue was intoxicating, the sounds she made even more so, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the sensation, your own arousal building as you felt her getting closer and closer to the edge.
Paige’s hands flew to your hair, it being a bit messy from the hat that had now hung around your neck, her fingers tangling in the strands as she held you to her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the brink of release. “Right there,” she panted, her voice strained as she fought to keep herself together, her body trembling with the effort. “Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.”
It didn’t take long. With a final, desperate cry, Paige shattered, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her, her hips bucking as she rode out the overwhelming sense of pleasure. You stayed with her through it all, your mouth never leaving her as you drew out every last bit of her release, savoring the way she fell apart beneath you.
As Paige’s body slowly relaxed, she took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was still uneven. You watched her with a satisfied smile, your own breathing a little ragged as you leaned on one arm, taking in the sight of her in her post-orgasmic bliss.
But Paige wasn’t done with you yet. She never was, and she would never let you win.
With a determined look, she slowly lifted herself up, and you watched, your breath catching in your throat as her fingers moved to the hem of her shirt. She paused for a moment, her eyes locking with yours over her shoulder before she slowly, deliberately peeled the fabric off her body, revealing the toned expanse of her back, and you knew you’d be a puddle if you would’ve saw her torso first.
Her muscles flexed and rippled beneath her skin as she discarded the shirt, and your mouth went absolutely dry. Paige’s back muscles were a sight to behold, the definition in her shoulders and the way her arms looked so strong and capable left you more wet than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t resist reaching out, your fingers brushing over the hard lines of her biceps, head slightly tilted as you admired in fake innocence. This was everything but.
Paige chuckled, and you felt the vibration underneath your fingertips as they dropped back to your side in one swift motion, the blonde now laid back in front of you. She took in your slightly dazed expression, and it only made her want you closer to her. On her.
“Get your ass up here,” Paige growled, her voice low and commanding, and you didn’t need to be told twice.
Scrambling to straddle her, you positioned yourself over her abs, your body tingling as you felt the firmness of her muscles beneath you. The friction was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you slowly began to grind against her, your movements fueled by the heat of the moment.
Paige’s hands roamed over your body, her eyes never leaving your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure. The hat on your head had been trying to escape, and Paige reached up, adjusting it with a grin before letting one of her hands return to your waist, speeding up your movements, and the other to your clit—doing as much damage as possible.
The blonde was practically drooling as she watched her two fingers slide between your folds, not missing the quaint squelching noise it made. “Pussy so good, baby. I swear.”
You were a whining mess, the sound being your only verbal response to Paige’s words. Your hand reached for the gold chain round her neck, the jewelry being previously tucked as your fingers tugged onto it in true cowgirl style.
Her words sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you as you rode her abs, the sensation something you’ve never felt before. You had started to feel immense heat underneath Paige’s touch, and it was driving you closer and closer to the edge. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you completely lost control.
Paige could sense it too. She leaned up slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Go ahead. Let me see how fucking good you look when you lose it.”
You screwed your eyes shut, letting out a long and hoarse cry that Paige was quick to shut down, her guiding hand now used as a cover for your mouth. Your hips continued to buck as she pulled her fingers away. You looked down at the way they glistened, eyebrows furrowed as she brought them to her mouth.
And of course, the most Paige thing to do was to turn you on even more as her tongue went to town on her own fingers, licking every bit of you off of them. You were close to demanding her to eat you out next, but the two of you didn’t have any time for that.
You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was sloppy and filthy, your tongues dancing in a heated rhythm. The kiss was a passionate mess, filled with the raw need that you both felt. But then, the distant sound of fireworks caught your attention, breaking through the personal sex bubble you’d built.
You gasped, your eyes widening as you pulled away from her. “Paige, we’re missing the fireworks!”
Paige’s face mirrored your shock as she looked toward the window. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, her expression one of sudden realization. Both of you scrambled to get dressed, tossing garments back and forth in a frantic attempt to look presentable. Paige’s bun was a far cry from its original neatness, and your cowboy hat had slipped off for the third time that night.
Finally, you managed to make your way out of the bedroom and finally outside where Paige’s dad, Bob, and a few other family members, including Drew, Paige’s little brother, were gathered. They were all watching the fireworks display their attention momentarily diverted by the spectacle.
One of them, with a sly smile, glanced at you and Paige as you entered. “Where’d you two run off to?”
Paige’s retort was quick, a playful smirk on her lips as she answered, “Promise land.” It was clearly a joke, but the way they scrutinized the two of you, taking in your disheveled appearance—messy hair, wrinkled clothing, and the cowboy hat that still refused to stay on your head—left little to the imagination. There wasn’t much point in hiding it anymore.
As you both took your places in some lawn chairs to watch the fireworks, Paige stepped in front of you for a brief moment. She reached down, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear with a tender touch. Her voice was soft, almost serious, as she mumbled, “You know, I think I like roleplay.”
You gasped, your eyes wide with disbelief. “P, that is so not what that was!”
1K notes · View notes
fuckingmyboyfrienddumb · 5 months ago
Text
as much as i crave fucking him into the mattress and hearing him cry from both overstimulation and my cock being too deep in his pretty little cunt, i genuinely want to just make love to him for hours and hours on end.
i wanna kiss every inch of his skin tenfold. starting from his right hand. i’d kiss each finger, each knuckle, his palms, the back of his hands, then his wrists, front and back. every part of him until i make my way to his shoulder. at that point, i’d tip his head back a little and kiss across his collarbone until i’m at his left side. then i’d start from his fingers once more. repeating it all until i’ve kissed my way up to his collarbone once more.
from there, i’d kiss down his chest, focusing tenderly on each nipple, taking one in my mouth as i cup his breast with one hand, squeezing gently to keep it stimulated before swapping sides, taking the other in my mouth and sucking it eagerly as it hardens against my tongue. until his back’s arching into me from how good such a simple touch is making him feel. my free hand would move to his hip, rubbing it softly as i mumble praise and comforting words around his nipple. telling him how much i love him and how good he’s being for me. how patient he is.
after a few minutes, once i’m sure he’s going to be completely and utterly soaked, i’ll slowly kiss down his stomach, leaving marks all the way down until i reach below his belly button. i’d slowly pull down his pants while holding eye contact with him, enjoying how pretty he looks all blissed out and desperate from my attention. i said i wanted to worship him, and that’s exactly what i plan on doing.
once his pants are off, i’d lean in just enough so he can feel my breath on his pussy, opening my mouth like i’m about to take a swipe at his clit, only to turn my head and kiss his thigh. letting out a soft chuckle as he lets out a choked whine, clearly desperate for any friction.
“patience, sweet boy. let me savour it.” i’d whisper as i kiss down to his ankle on each leg, only to kiss my way back up to his face. moving to straddle him as i kiss his neck, taking my time since i know he’s extra sensitive there. focusing on all of his sweet spots. the spots i know’ll drive him crazy. while of course leaving marks all over. claiming him in a way everyone’ll see.
by this point, he’d be panting. his face bright red and his eyes half closed and rolled back as beads of sweat drip down his forehead, creating a soft shine over his skin. my poor boy so deep into his happy place as i savour every inch of his perfect fucking body. my beautiful boy.
i’d kiss down his jaw, both sides receiving equal attention before kissing his chin. then both cheeks, his temples, his forehead, his nose, both corners of his lips before finally kissing him deeply. my tongue swiping over his bottom lip, asking for permission before i go deeper. all the while my hips rock back and forth as my fingers run through his hair.
finally, after a few more long, long minutes, i’d pull back. his lips and chin covered in our spit, but i’d just leave it there.
“such a sloppy boy, honey.” i’d mumble. a whimper in response, nothing more. knowing he’s too blissed out now to even think i’d move back down to the foot of the bed, gently spreading his legs to get a good look at his dripping cunt.
“oh sweet boy…” messy would be an understatement as i look at the sight between my lovers legs. “you’re so pretty like this, honey. so so fucking pretty. so nice and wet for me.”
after what would feel like hours at that point, i’d finally press a kiss to his clit, enjoying the almost guttural moan he’d release as the sudden contact jolts him back to life before licking and sucking as my tongue laps at his pussy. instead of holding his legs open, i’d let his thighs squeeze my head for once as he moans almost pathetically, too overstimulated to make any noise.
“that’s it honey. cum for me, just like that sweet boy. such a good boy. i’m so proud of you.”
2K notes · View notes
florwons · 4 months ago
Text
NOT ON MY WATCH ⋮ P.SH
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS Sunghoon caught you getting ready for your supposed date, and it was clear he was trying to convince you to reconsider. He tried to dismiss his actions as simply "looking out" for you, but deep down, he couldn't shake the thought that lingered in his mind: why him, not me?
𝓟AIRING brother's-best-friend!sunghoon x fem!reader 𝓖ENRE fluff, friends to lovers (?) 𝓦ARNINGS jealousy, slight bickering / argument-ish? 𝓦ORD COUNT 2K+ ( 2054 words ) 𝓕EI’S 𝓝OTES first sunghoon fic (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) hoon has been taking over and that picture on pinterest fueled this idea in mind … think of this as a thank you for 100+ followers ♡ i truly am grateful and i hope to continue to make much more works for you all !! enjoy & ily >ᴗ<
Tumblr media
You heard a gentle knock on your door, followed by a familiar voice asking, “Can I come in?” It was Park Sunghoon, your brother’s best friend. His frequent visits to your house had become routine, and you were used to seeing him almost every day. It felt like he practically lived there, but given his close friendship with your brother, it wasn't surprising.
“No.”
“Come on, please?”
“What’s your excuse for bothering me this time?” you replied, still focused on the mirror in front of you, showing no intention of letting him in.
“Your brother is busy playing games with Jake right now, and they’re being way too loud,” Sunghoon sighed, clearly exasperated. “Mind if I come in to escape them for a bit?”
“I don’t think my brother would appreciate you suddenly disappearing. He might think something’s up,” you replied, still focused on your appearance.
“He’s too busy trying to beat Jake to even notice I’m gone,” Sunghoon said with a faint smile. “Besides, I’d much rather talk to you than listen to them shout at the screen.”
“I’m flattered,” you laughed softly. “Alright, you can come in. Don’t be annoying.”
Sunghoon opened the door, his eyes settling on you as you sat at your desk, touching up your makeup. He raised his eyebrows slightly, leaning against the doorframe, clearly wanting to enter. “What are you getting ready for?” he asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “You look rather pretty.”
“Why, thank you. You’re being nice today,” you replied with a teasing smile. “I’m getting ready for a date.”
“Funny,” he said with a soft chuckle as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge while watching you apply your blush. “What are you really getting ready for? A girls' day out?”
You rolled your eyes and turned to face him. “No, seriously. It’s an actual date,” you insisted, trying to convey sincerity.
“You’re joking,” he said, laughing a little more, but when he saw your serious expression, the laughter faded. “Seriously?”
“Why would I joke about my love life?”
“You seem like the type who would.”
“Oh, don’t start. Remember, I’m the one who let you into my room,” you said, turning back to your mirror.
Sunghoon's smile wavered, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as his eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. Hearing you say that, he couldn’t help but feel slightly…bothered.
“An actual date, huh? With who?”
“Why should it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like you’re my brother.”
Sunghoon hesitated, searching for a reason to dismiss your plans. “Does your brother know about this… supposed date?”
“First of all, it’s an actual date, so I don’t know why you’re doubting me,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively. “And secondly, why does he have to know?”
“Oh, so he doesn’t?” Sunghoon crossed his arms, frustration evident in his expression. “I would think you’d be smart enough to talk to your brother about this. Someone should know about this date of yours.”
“Well, now you know,” you replied with a teasing smile. “That should be enough, right?”
“Is that so?” he said firmly. “Then no.”
“What?” You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden declaration.
“You’re not going,” Sunghoon insisted, his voice carrying a hint of jealousy that was impossible to ignore. “Not on my watch.”
You’d always known Sunghoon as your brother's annoying friend, the one who constantly found ways to bicker with you. But instead of the usual smirk he wore, his expression was serious—totally out of the ordinary.
Why was he suddenly acting like this?
“Okay, you’re confusing me,” you said, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to decipher his words. “Why wouldn’t I go?”
Sunghoon crossed his arms tighter, trying to maintain his composure. “Because you told me about your date, right? So I’m saying you shouldn’t go—just offering my opinion,” he said, attempting to mask his jealousy with a casual tone.
You frowned, feeling your frustration build. “Why should I listen to you?”
“So you just want me to stay silent? What if your brother asks me about you, wondering where you’re at, and I lie, and—who knows if you won’t get hurt?”
“Why would I get hurt?” you replied, exasperation creeping into your voice. “You don’t even know my date.”
“Then tell me about him,” Sunghoon pressed, his curiosity tinged with something deeper.
“Why should I tell you?” you asked, your frustration growing. “This isn’t your business.”
“It’s either you tell me about him, or I tell your brother,” Sunghoon replied, his voice firm and unwavering. “You know how protective he can get.”
You sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. A friend of mine set me up with someone. He’s supposed to be nice, and I thought it’d be fun to meet him,” you said, trying to sound casual despite feeling a bit cornered. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”
“So, you don’t know him?” he asked, his tone filled with skepticism.
“I’ll get to know him then.”
“No, that sounds so...unsafe!” Sunghoon said, his voice tinged with genuine concern. He was struggling to form his thoughts properly, not wanting to say the wrong things but clearly wanting to show his disapproval. “What if he’s not who he says he is? You can’t just meet up with some random guy.”
“Sunghoon, it’s not like I’m going to be reckless,” you replied, feeling a bit defensive. “If my friend knows him, then I should be fine, right?”
“Still, just because your friend knows him doesn’t mean he’s a good person.”
“You judge a lot for someone who hasn’t even heard about this man before,” you countered, crossing your arms.
“And you’re putting a lot of trust in a man you’re planning on seeing today,” Sunghoon shot back, his expression unwavering.
The room fell into a tense silence, his words hanging heavily in the air. You could see he was genuinely concerned, but his protective stance was starting to grate on your nerves.
“Whatever, Sunghoon, you can’t change my mind. I have to give this thing a try.”
“And do you even have a ride?” His question caught you off guard, making you pause. You didn’t have a ride.
You hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a quick response. “I was just going to take the bus,” you admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Sunghoon sighed, clearly not satisfied with your plan. “I’ll drive you,” he offered. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But, you’re going on a date with me.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush with confusion. “What? Wait, what do you mean?” you stammered, caught completely off guard by his sudden declaration.
“I think I made it pretty clear that I didn’t like the thought of your date, did I not?” Sunghoon said, getting up from the bed and walking over to your desk. He leaned against it, pressing his palms on the surface, standing right next to where you were seated. “I wouldn’t want you to waste a cute outfit.”
“Okay, this is all of a sudden—this is crazy, Sunghoon!” you exclaimed, trying to wrap your head around the situation.
“Come on, you tell me that all the time. Why don’t you tell me something new?” he replied with a playful smirk. He was back to his usual self, but there was a flirty undertone you weren’t sure whether you hated or actually enjoyed.
“No really, do you know how insane you sound right now? Why would I go on a date with you?” you asked, still trying to process his sudden proposal.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“We can’t.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re my brother’s best friend—and my friend is going to kill me if I back out now,” you explained, trying to sound resolute.
“I don’t think it would be a problem to cancel now,” Sunghoon said, dismissing your concerns with a casual shrug. “And your brother? He doesn’t have to know.”
“Sunghoon!”
Sunghoon let out a small scoff, unable to hide his disbelief. He couldn’t understand why you were so set on meeting this guy. Did the thought of going out with him really bother you so much that you'd choose a stranger over him? The idea was unsettling to him.
“You’re already planning on breaking the rules that your brother established, so why are you hesitant now?”
“It’s not the same.”
“So, you’d rather go out with someone you don’t even know, instead of someone you’ve spent time with and know well? Why him, not me?” he asked, his frustration clear in his voice.
He muttered a curse under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Running a hand through his hair, he looked away from you, letting out a quick sigh as he struggled to collect his thoughts.
“Forget what I said.”
“You could’ve just blackmailed me by saying that you were going to tell my brother about this, but you chose to basically ask me out?” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes.
“It’s not like I meant it,” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “I’m just looking out for you because, you know, I’m your brother’s best friend. I was trying to get your mind off of this dating nonsense thing—as your brother would’ve liked.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sunghoon, you’re blushing.”
“I’m not blushing!” he insisted, but the pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. He tried to maintain his composure, but the blush only deepened under your scrutiny.
“Right, and I’m supposed to believe that?” you said, crossing your arms with a knowing smile.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little jealous. But can you blame me? I’ve seen you around all the time, and you’re amazing. And I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how. So, hearing you talk about going on a date suddenly was definitely not a good feeling.”
“I didn’t think you saw me that way,” you admitted softly, feeling your defenses start to crumble.
“Well, I do,” Sunghoon replied, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “I’m just trying to understand why you’d choose a stranger over someone who’s been here all along.”
“I’ll admit, I didn’t think you were actually suggesting we go out,” you said, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Let alone, suddenly calling it a date…”
“It could be considered a friendly one then. Would that make you feel more at ease with agreeing? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my abruptness,” Sunghoon replied, his tone softening as he tried to reassure you.
“Oh? Yeah…that could work too…”
“You sound like you want it to be considered an actual date,” Sunghoon teased, a playful glint returning to his eyes as he leaned a little closer. “Is this you saying ‘yes’?”
“There you go, being your teasing self again. I thought we were having a moment,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “I can’t help but think you meant it that way for suddenly bringing it up.”
He laughed. “Well, we can have an even better moment, only if you accept.”
“Ask me properly then.”
“So demanding,” he teased, shaking his head with a grin.
“It’s either that, or I actually take a bus and meet up with him,” you said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Don’t joke like that,” Sunghoon said, meeting your gaze with a serious look, though a small smile soon cracked through. “Okay then, Y/N, will you go out with me tonight?”
You pretended to consider it for a moment, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Well, since you asked so nicely… I guess I can rearrange my plans,” you replied with a smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. You might feel a twinge of guilt for backing out of your original plans, but you know your friend won’t hold it against you. After all, you're still going on a date—just not with the person she set you up with. Instead, it's with your brother's best friend, which adds an unexpected twist to the evening.
“But if my brother even suspects a single thing, you’re so dead.”
“Don’t worry, even if we have to sneak out, I can make it work.” Sunghoon said confidently, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I promise this will be worth way more than whatever you planned on doing today.”
Tumblr media
────── 𝓔NHYPEN 𝓟ERM 𝓣AGLIST IS 𝓞PEN! 𝓐SK OR 𝓒OMMENT TO JOIN!
1K notes · View notes